#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)

[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.

[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

[mrssimply]

7th: Soft

I decided to do a fic advent calendar this year, and idea that was given to me by Bones a.k.a Riots from the Totentanz Discord Server.

You can find the prompt list here.

Every fic will be posted on my AO3 Account here.

This one is for @rockerboyrepo, whose prompt was: "snowflakes that stick to one's nose and eyelashes aka the winter weather date [Kerry/V] (my only thought is that Kerry would look beautiful in the snow, and V would agree. Also, I bet Kerry would be good at ice skating)"

Here is a bowl of warm feelings and fluff, enjoy!

The doctors said it would take four to five years before he was back to “full health”. The nanites injected into V’s spine would provide uninterrupted repairs to the neural tissue, until it stabilized. The therapy in itself would be spread over the coming year, with control exams every six months after that, and probably one or two more rounds of treatment, depending on the results. 

Still, it’s an aggressive treatment, which means it gets worse — really worse — before even the basic improvement can be detected beyond numbers on a chart.  

After eight months, V is finally starting to have good days, good weeks even. He still feels like shit most mornings, but the feeling passes as the day goes. With his renewed health comes frustration: he feels better but he’s still weak as a fawn, and can’t do shit without having a coughing fit. The most he can do is sit his ass in the Afterlife and play fixer. Business is going strong, thanks to Rogue’s heritage and training, but he wishes he could do some of the gigs he passes off to young wannabe mercs.

Through all this, Kerry has been a constant. It surprised V at first, because he thought that past their hot tryst on the burning boat, Kerry would lose interest fast, as he is rumored to do. But the rockstar showed up every two to three days with food, fresh laundry, or just to watch scop on TV. They got really invested in Watson Whore during those eight months.

They don’t talk about their relationship, just like they don’t really talk about Johnny, so V is trying not to get his hopes too high. He thinks they’re both guarded, in a way: both unsure this is gonna last but fuck if V doesn’t wish ardently Kerry would spend the rest of his life with him.

“I have a cabin in the Alps,” Kerry says one night while they lie in bed.

They don’t often do more than sleep because V is just too tired, but Kerry never pushes. The merc thinks he might have other people for sex, and that’s fine, it’s not like they talked about exclusivity. Plus, Kerry has a reputation for being both jealous and unable to commit. In a way, this situation is ideal: V is available and faithful, if only because he can’t do much, and Kerry can do whatever he wants. 

That’s fine. That’s totally fine.

“Yeah?” V asks, wondering where this is going.

“Yeah. I thought we could go? For Christmas,” Kerry explains, voice rough and low, like he’s forcing the words out against his will.

V turns on the bed to face him and only catches the sapphires of his eyes thanks to the neon lights filtering by the windows.

“We’re spending Christmas together?”

“Yeah. I mean… It’s what inputs do?”

V tells his heart, who leaped at the words and is now beating faster than when he was running from Arasaka, to chill, damnit. The thing refuses to obey, backed up by a good part of V’s brain who is having a moment and not computing things beyond “inputs”.

“Sure yeah,” he replies lamely. 

The unenthusiastic answer makes Kerry retreat to himself.

“I mean, it’s just an idea, we don’t hav —”

V kisses him to shut him up. To shut himself up. He doesn’t know what would spill out of him if he let his mouth run because right now, he’s seconds away from proposing or doing something equally dumb.

“I would love to, really. I was surprised, is all. But yeah. Never been to the Alps,” he says, and then chuckles deprecatingly “I mean… Never traveled outside the NUSA so…”

In the dark, he feels more than he sees Kerry smile and curl up closer.

“I know. I want to show you the world.”

Chill, he scolds his heart again, but the organ is on a roll and there is no way Kerry doesn't hear it cantering like a mad horse in his chest.

“I… Yeah I would love to see the world with you.”

He gets a soft kiss on the crook of his neck in answer, then Kerry settles to sleep. Before long, his soft snores are the only sound in the room, he sleeps peacefully while V is wide awake, oscillating between elation and desperation: it’s gonna hurt so bad when it comes to an end.

---

The cabin is exactly what V expected: it’s modern, designed by the latest architect en vogue, but it’s mostly too big and empty for one. It has all the comforts of home, though: a jacuzzi, a private recording studio, a winter garden filled with lush plants. The living room has one huge window that gives an amazing view of the lake at the bottom of the valley, and of the snowy mountain overlooking it. When V gets out in the evening, there is an atmosphere like it’s the end of the world and they’re the last people on earth. The merc likes the idea more than he really wants to admit. It would be ok, he thinks, if it ended here, like this.

Kerry, on the other hand, is like a child. He’s been living through V’s excitement, vicariously experimenting taking a plane for the first time (an experience V found exhilarating), seeing Europe, France, and then Italy for the first time. He preened like Johnny would have when V praised the view.

The rockstar joins him on the balcony with a glass of chilled white wine.

“Cheers,” he says softly but with a big grin. They clink their glasses together, and V watches Kerry take a sip before he does. It’s always a pleasure to watch Kerry taste good things: the way he closes his eyes and hums in delight… It doesn’t miss with the wine, so V tastes it with a smile. He has no palate for such quality, but his input — cause apparently, they are, what an amazing turn of events! — ensures him it will come.

Kerry lights a cigarette, the smoke billowing out of his mouth drifts away slowly due to the chill. It passes in front of Kerry’s eyes for a second, and when it’s gone, V rediscovers the blue of his eyes and smiles stupidly. It’s like the landscape itself is trying to match Kerry’s color, harmonizing everything until it’s a tableau of perfection.

“What?” The musician asks when he catches V’s gaze.

“Nothing. Happy to be here. With you,” he adds a bit softer. Kerry looks pleased and gets closer, nosing under V’s jaw. His cold nose makes V laughs, and he wraps an arm around him.

They share the cigarette in silence — V really misses smoking but he shouldn’t, with the treatment. It’s fine, though, it’s christmas, he’s allowed to relax a bit. Kerry says so, too. 

---

Later, Kerry rides him while V lies on the rugs by the windows, with the moon as their sole source of light. It dances over Kerry’s skin and tattoos, drawing his shapes and shadows in stark relief. He’s so fucking beautiful like this, arching over V, thighs straining to bring them pleasure, mouth open to let out the most alluring sounds.

V can’t stop touching him, stroking his sides, brushing against his nipples and pinching them when it makes Kerry moan lounder. Lube and sweat make Kerry’s body shine, make his cock glisten as it disappears into V’s fist, until he comes and paints his stomach with white streaks.

V can’t stop kissing him when he sags forward, even if Kerry is out of breath. He watches, mesmerised as the man starts riding him again, whining and keening through the over sensitivity, shivering as he tortures himself for V’s pleasure.

If V was stronger, he would take him against the window, rail him until he would slide to the floor, exhausted and satisfied. As it is, V encourages him, babbles sweet things that are miles away from what he really wants to say.

I love you, you’re perfect, you’re the best thing that happened to me, you take my breath away, please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

V shatters into his orgasm, barely registering the bell like laughter Kerry lets out as he does. 

---

On Christmas Eve, they don’t exchange gifts. V insisted: he wouldn’t have known what to get Kerry, and he’s ready to bet the man would probably buy him something too expensive that would make him feel like a kept boy. Kerry is already paying for this whole trip, no need for something fancy on top of that.

But of course, Kerry still has something up his sleeve. As midnight grows closer, Kerry entices him out. They take the trek down to the village, about fifteen minutes from the cabin. When they arrive, it’s clear they’ve stepped into some sort of Christmas tradition for the locals. In the plaza in front of the church, an ice-skating rink has been set up. Families and couples are still having fun on it despite the late hour, bathed in soft lights provided by ancient lamp posts and bright lanterns. 

Kerry takes him to the right, to a small cabin where he exchanges words in fast italian, and before V has time to wonder at the fact Kerry speaks yet another language, he’s pushed to the edge of the rink to put on the ice-skates. 

“I don’t know how to do that, ya know?” he warns Kerry, suddenly anxious. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not harder than half the things you do when on a gig.”

“It’s really not the same” he insists while he does the laces. Kerry smiles at him, face half buried in a baby-blue cashmere scarf. It matches his eyes and contrasts nicely with his dark skin, flushed red because of the cold. V sorts of zone out, lost in his observation of his input, and startles when said man drags him up and on the ice.

V tenses, which is exactly what he shouldn’t do, and grips Kerry tight to balance himself. The rockstar laughs and pushes on the tip of the skates to land a kiss on his nose.

“C’mon big boy, you can do it, just relax and follow my lead.”

Sure, V thinks, I’ll follow you anywhere. 

---

Midnight comes and goes, and families go back home to put the kids to sleep while couples enjoy the relative calm. Around one in the morning, there are only a few of them left, plus a group of young people laughing loudly around what are probably glasses of eggnog. 

V has somewhat relaxed and is now moving fluidly besides Kerry, who spins effortlessly around the rink. 

“It’s snowing,” the man remarks and they stop to observe the phenomenon. Indeed, snowflakes are lazily drifting down, until one lands directly on V’s nose. He chuckles and wipes it before turning to watch Kerry.

His input has thrown his head back, and is hoping to catch snowflakes on his tongue apparently.

“Really?” V says with a breathy laugh.

“What? I could never do that as a kid, there wasn’t any snow in NC.”

This is an experience they share: rainy dressing christmas while the TV displayed images of idyllic snow covered chalets in switzerland. V never thought such places existed, always imagined they were artificially created just for movies or advertisement, but apparently he was wrong, since he’s standing right in the middle of one.

With a shrug, he tilts his head and opens his mouth to try and catch snowflakes. His wish is granted very fast, because now it’s snowing for real and he gets a mouthful in about ten seconds. It’s… anticlimactic, and it must show on his face because Kerry laughs besides him.

With a wry smile, V closes his mouth and glances at him. In the deep of the night, surrounded by pristine white snowflakes, Kerry’s eyes seem to shine with inner light. He looks so happy, and it takes V’s breath away. 

The musician catches him looking and his smiles brighten before it freezes and transforms into alarm.

“Are you crying?” He whispers, getting closer to catch a lone tear with his fingers. V startles, he didn’t realize he was crying. 

“I just — It’s… You…” 

But he gets distracted by a snowflake getting caught on Kerry’s eyelashes. 

“I love you?” he breathes out, blinking wide. He feels like he’s in a dream.

Kerry’s eyes widen, and then he makes a weird noise which, in turn, snaps V out of his funk.

“Huh, I mean, it’s just the, I — fuck, I’m sor —”

Kerry clamps a hand over his mouth and looks at him with an intense expression.

“Don’t ruin it,” he warns, sounding serious so V nods slowly. “I love you too.” 

V feels himself melt as tension suddenly flees from his body. 

“You’re not taking it back,” Kerry orders and V nods again. “Ok,” he says while slowly removing his hand. He gets back to wiping the tears from V’s face with a small trembling smile.

“I love you too,” he repeats. 

With a wounded noise, V wraps his arms around him and holds him tight.

“I love you,” V repeated in the crook of Kerry’s neck.

[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.

[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 

[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.

[911firefox]

They literally reduced Eddie to “that angry guy” in Buck’s dream, what are you talking about? Now canonically deep down in Buck’s subconscious Eddie is just an angry guy. A failed parent. Not his best friend. Not something more which some delusional people try to use as a reason for Eddie not being there. The only reason Eddie wasn’t there is that the showrunner hates Eddie and Buck’s relationship wether it be friendship or romance and you choose to not see that, too afraid to criticise the show instead of standing up for your presumably favourite character. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions from that.

Hello again angry anon. I just had a really great nap so decided to humour you once more.

Firstly 'A failed parent' good parents lose custody all the time. Good parents in bad situations. Losing custody is not proof of being a failed parent. There's already an example in the show of Nia, her mum hit a bad situation and a bad time with the pandemic etc. Bad shit happens to good people. And that's true to real life, it's pretty scummy to assume keeping/getting custody = good person.

Eddie isn't in the dream world 118 because he didn't have the support system that enabled him in the 'real world'

The dream was the worst case scenario. Bobby wouldn't for sure have died without Buck, Eddie didn't need solely Buck for things to go his way but as the most important people in Buck's life it makes sense that his anxiety over them and the worse case scenario being worse. But if Eddie had been in the dream, I suspect you would have complained then too so 🤷

The angry descriptor is not something I liked either actually. But I'm guessing it was a clumsy way to allude to the episode rage and the street fighting. Either way there could have been much better ways to show he was overwhelmed that's true. They could have done better with this, yea.

I'm guessing they were talking about how when Eddie did have anger issues in the episode rage etc relating to his grief re Shannon, it was Bobby that stepped in and talked to him man to man. Considering Eddie kicked a guy's nose into his brain, that is pretty angry so maybe that's what Hen is talking about. That's admittedly a pure guess but you can't say that Eddie didn't need the 118 as a family to help him through his grief and rage-

Ahhh, the showrunner- every passive aggressive anon I've seen a friend get today is obsessed about the showrunner. I don't read her interviews since the first one she did that upset everyone. And before that I didn't really read any interviews with showrunners aside from tidbits that came across my dash so you do you but I'm not gonna stress about that. It's outta my power who the showrunner is, shows I've loved and characters I've loved have been done dirty before too. I can just hope not this time. Yelling on tumblr about it won't change her day so, for the most part I do my best to pay her no mind either.

Oh, Ryan Guzman has stipulation in his contract to work reduced hours on I believe two episodes a season and by the amount he was in I'd guess this was one. Perhaps that means next week in an episode dealing with PTS like he has too, he'll be way more prevalent. I really hope so but I'm also prepared to be disappointed. Is it ideal that this episode may have been the reduced episode? Depends on who you ask I guess. I can predict your answer.

I do actually criticize the show a lot when I think it's warranted, which tells me again you have no clue who I am and just want to yell on anon at people.

And you know what I do when I'm disappointed with a show? Well, I sure as shit don't go yelling at people on anon that's for sure.

One piece of advice for you: when a TV show stops being a source of joy or even mild entertainment for you, maybe stop watching.

Go play with a kitten, I am right now. It's super fun.

[slipperyskell]

Assorted Monty HCS 4

(Same as all the others, runs under the assumption of Organic Monty unless otherwise specified)

- He forgets to do his dishes/take the trash out a lot. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he literally just goes from “Ah yes! The trash is nearly full, I should take that out tonight” to the thought immediately, thoroughly leaving his mind not ten seconds later, only to be thought and forgotten immediately the following days until he gets a burr up his ass at 2am because he NEEDS to do it RIGHT NOW or he WILL FORGET. HE IS DOING IT RIGHT NOW. 

- This also means he tends to get very creative with what he uses as plates or bowls and cups and whatnot when he finds himself out of the clean dishes in question... but then still forgets that he needs to do the dishes so he’s back to square one the next time he wants food

- That being said, he does actually enjoy doing the dishes??? just another one of those things where he can just hang out and listen to music 

- Which can be applied to p much any chore, really - he genuinely likes doing chores bc it gives him an excuse to listen to music n just kinda turn off his brain for a little bit, but just forgets to do em p often 

- Goes absolutely fucking feral whenever Jellyfish Jam comes on. He loves that song so much it’s not even funny 

- He’d just love Spongebob in general lmao 

- the Hurricane Hole-In-One bucket is an unfinished attraction within Gator Golf 

- It’s been unfinished for a while, partially because they still keep Gator Golf open while working on it and also because this is still Fazbear Entertainment we’re talking about so there’s a real possibility that working conditions have been less than ideal for those hired on to work on said unfinished ride. So things have been really slow as far as getting that done has gone

- Monty doesn’t entirely mind because the catwalks are a nice place to hide. Very dangerous, both for him and p much anyone else who goes up there without the proper equipment, but still nice. And since the Hurricane bucket is only activated if someone manages to get a hole-in-one on all the courses or hits the button up on the catwalks to disengage the latches, the likelihood of something happening is pretty low.

- ... which makes the fact that he’d have two Fazcoins for every time something bad DID happen to him while he was on those fucking catwalks that much worse

- He won’t lie tho - even though that person did end up getting him sent to Parts and Service for emergency repairs, he did want to meet the person who activated the Hurricane Bucket while he was up there the month before SB happens. It’s EXCEPTIONALLY rare for someone to do that good in Gator Golf. I would not be surprised if that was the first thing he asked about once he was brought back online

- The button for the bucket is supposed to keep the latches holding the bucket up engaged even when someone gets all holes-in-one (it’s like an override for lack of a better explanation). They announce whenever someone gets all holes-in-one so people get out of the way for the bucket to tip over - at least that’s the plan once it’s done

- Something something the latches weren’t engaged that time that person got all holes-in-one when they were very much supposed to be. Whether it was because someone hit the button on purpose or accident, no one is certain - either way, people got fired 

- the Gator ride itself, like it works in the boss fight iirc (just on the actual rides, not the catwalks), is how the bucket gets filled up. The more balls you get into the bucket, the higher the score, and the better the prize you can get when it’s all said and done

- the turrets that are on the catwalks are just for testing the bucket/testing the attraction itself. The people working on it were planning on getting those mounted on to the rest of the gator rides but just haven’t gotten to it before the events of Security Breach 

- Monty is trying to be very patient about it but he is VERY excited for whenever the Hurricane Bucket is going to be finished. He wasn’t expecting his attraction to get anything other than the golf course itself and the merry-go-round, so when he found out about the Hurricane Bucket he was damn near over the moon!!! 

- Monty gets dizzy really easy + he’s big and gator n can’t fit in em, otherwise he would probably mess around on the golf ball merry-go-round in the lobby from time to time 

- That being said he would go absolutely fucking nuts if given the opportunity to ride on a roller coaster. Would definitely throw up afterwards even if it was a tamer one, but he is so down!!!! 

- If he doesn’t feel like playing golf (which is exceptionally rare) or if the person he’s hanging out with has had a rough day and they just wanna talk, he’ll usually take em to walk laps around Gator Golf. Even just existing in that space calms him down a bit so he thinks (and hopes) going there might help you out, too!! It’s pretty spacious and lots of winding walkways so it’s really nice to just wander around in there, especially when there’s no guests

- Gator Golf naturally has the more low-light stuff going on in it from the get-go so it’s a bit more calming compared to some of the other attractions. Not quite as dark as it is in-game (i mean it is nighttime, so a lot of the lights are off) but it’s still a lot easier on the eyes than the others 

- If he’s not too busy talking to guests in the golf course itself, he likes to visit the Gator Grub area, be it to visit with guests while they’re eating or hang out with the cooks when they’re not busy either - he makes for pretty good company 

- Because of just how much bigger Monty is compared to most humans, Monty’s got his own set of golf clubs he uses 

- No one can touch them ever at all ever unless they were given explicit permission to do so - those are his babies and if you so much as scratch the gaudy neon paint on them he will be FURIOUS

- okay maybe not furious but he will be very upset because those golf clubs mean a hell of a lot to em and he’d hate to see them damaged

- like how all the animatronics have bowling balls themed after em for Bonnie Bowl, all of the Glams have their own themed golf clubs for Gator Golf 

- They all have their own themed Fazerblasters, racing karts, and exercise equipment(?) too but that’s another can of worms to get into another time

- Freddy and Chica have theirs in their room but Monty holds on to Roxy’s bc she tends to get a bit... dangerous with hers 

- he’s seen what she does with those wrenches when she’s mad - he doesn’t want to see that happen to one of his golf clubs

- something something because of how Gator Golf is very much Monty’s happy place n it’s got a lot of nature sounds (which become a lot more obvious when business is slow), listening to nature sounds at night helps him when he’s trying to fall asleep 

- he knows it’s dorky and he’ll definitely threaten to bite you if you point it out, but his tail always, always, ALWAYS does an excited little wiggle whenever he steps foot in Gator Golf. Even if he’s having a rough day, seeing his happy place never fails to calm him down at least a little bit

- like he is so GO GO GO DO THIS DO THAT AAAAAAA p much all the time but when he gets to Gator Golf he is suddenly SO chill. Even after his Glamrockification, that patient/kindhearted nature he started with never left him. If you ever want golf lessons, ask the gator himself, because he is more than happy to teach!!! 

- and it’s one of the only times where like. he never teases. he’s so dead serious and genuinely into it when he’s teaching you bc golf means THAT MUCH to him and he doesn’t want you to get frustrated over something he holds so dear to himself!!!! ESPECIALLY when he’s the one telling/showing you stuff about it!!!

- like once you get the hang of it he might start getting a little jokier but seriously when you’re starting out he is so sickeningly sweet it’s not even funny 

- even if you make a joke yourself about how bad you’re doing he’ll go out of his way to encourage you and tell you you’re doing great

- I cannot stress enough how much this man loves golf!!! and loves teaching people about golf!!!!!! just!!! aaaaaa!!! Golf!!!!! 

[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.

[dragon-kazansky]

Stuck with you | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @cherry-season I've changed it up a little, but it's still based off your request :)

This is a lengthy one, sit back and enjoy.

This was less than ideal. One moment you're chasing Flag Smashers through an otherwise abandoned building, then you're trapped in a room with the Baron Helmut Zemo.

The only way this could be any worse is if you were stuck in a room with Walker instead. You could guarantee that man wouldn't be leaving alive if that was the case.

Still, Zemo wasn't exactly your favourite person on the planet either.

The solid steel door had slammed shut behind you. You were unable to get it open, fearing it only opened from the other side. You're not sure exactly what kind of building this was, but it had clearly not been used in some time. Things were falling apart or rusting over.

"You can keep trying, little bird, but it won't open."

You take a deep breath, trying not to say anything snarky to him. You did not need his sass today.

"Well, I'm sorry, Zemo, but you're stuck with me unless we do something."

"I'm not complaining."

"I suppose you're used to being locked in a room." You turn away from the door and look around the room, not yet feeling up to actually acknowledging his presents by looking at him.

"Yes, but this time I have lovely company. I am at an advantage."

"Yeah right," you say, sarcasm dropping with every letter.

You want to sit down, but you do not want to touch the musty floor. You take to leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, finally looking at the only other human in the room.

"At least in a cell you have furniture."

"To an extent."

"Still, it's better than this horrid and dark room. Plus, something smells funky in here and it isn't me."

"Course not, you smell lovely," he grins at you.

"OK..."

Helmut, realising there isn't much to do other than talk to you, removed his coat and goes to lay it out on the floor, figuring you would be more comfortable sitting on it than anywhere else. However, he stops when call out.

"What are you doing? You'll ruin it!" You take the coat out of his hands and hold it close to you.

"Concerned about my coat?"

"What? No! It's just... it's a nice coat... probably expensive too. You'll ruin it if you put it on the floor."

"What do you suggest we do then?"

"I don't know, but let's not sacrifice perfection." You brush the coat down with your hand as you drape it over your other arm.

Zemo chuckles as looks around the room. It isn't a massive space, but there's very little in it, making it look quite roomy. He walks over to the opposite side and brushes along the ground sigh foot, deeming it worthy enough to sit on. You see him sitting with his back against the wall, looking up at you.

"Do you really want to be sitting there?" You ask, feeling kind of bad he would ruin his clothes like that. Who knows what kind of filth is in here.

"It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

You sigh softly as you walk over to where he is.

"You're braver than I am, then."

"I don't know, you're rather brave," he doesn't sound like he's teasing you. He doesn't look like it either.

"If you say so."

Zemo gazes up at you. You can't read his expression, which feels a little unsettling.

"Put the coat on."

"Sorry?" You frown.

"Don't be, put it on."

You look at the coat still draped over your arm. Why did he want you to put it on?

"Why?"

"If you trust me just once in your life, let this be that once. Put the coat on, little bird."

You unfold the coat and put it on. It doesn't fit all that well, but it's warm. You look at him, unimpressed.

"Is this what you wanted?"

Zemo grins as he holds open his arms and gestures you over with his fingers. You look at him suspiciously.

"Zemo, what are you doing?"

"Come here. Unless you want to stand until who knows when. We could be in here quite some time, and since you won't sit on the floor, there is only one place for you to sit."

"You have to be joking."

He shakes his head and gestures you close with his fingers again.

"You're going be insufferable after this." You shimmy over and get down, taking a seat on his lap.

Zemo uses his arms to support you, but you're too busy gathering the coat and making sure it doesn't touch the floor. He chuckles in your ear as you purposely turn your head away from him as you shuffle in his lap, trying to get comfortable.

"Better?"

"Sure..." You're too embarrassed to look at him.

Helmut gives you a little squeeze, tugging you closer to his torso. This time when he chuckles, you feel the vibration of it rumble through his chest. He moves his head so it's buried in the crook of your neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Tormenting you. I have you in my grasp, I'm not going to waste this opportunity to mess with you."

"Is that all this is? An opportunity to mess with me because Sam and Bucky aren't here?" You shake him from your shoudler and glare at him.

"Or perhaps I'm just seizing the opportunity to have you all to myself?"

"I don't understand you..." Your gaze flickers between his beautiful brown eyes.

"Would you like to?" He grins at you.

"I don't know... but I suppose it will help pass the time. Where shall we start?"

"Check the inside pocket." He nods toward the coat around you. You follow his instruction and search the inside the pocket. You feel something small. Grabbing it, you pull it out and hold it up.

You look at Zemo unimpressed.

"I already know you like Turkish Delights. You made that clear." You look at it.

"They were my son's favourite."

"Yeah, I remember you saying," you mutter.

"That one is for you."

You think him quietly and open it, eating it. You look at him.

"I thought you were going to tell me more about you," you say, licking the powder from your fingers.

"I'm starting slow."

"Zemo, you can be honest with me. I'm pretty sure I know all of the awful things you've done. Nothing will surprise me. Plus, I'm already sitting on you, so if you're worried about what I think, I don't think you have to worry."

There's a cheeky smile on his face.

"Are you always this honest and modest?"

"Only when I want to be." You wink at him. You only realise what you've done after you see that mischievous glint return to his eyes.

"I see. I would very much like you to be honest with me."

"What makes you think I haven't been?" You tilt your head curiously at him.

"If you hated me as much as you tried to make it seem, I doubt you would actually be sitting here on my lap, eating my sweets, and giving me the time of day."

He's right.

"Then, I'll be more honest with you staring now. I don't hate you, Zemo. Not really. Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy about what you did to my friends, or the fact you brain washed Bucky and bombed a building and blamed it on him. You're an awful person."

Zemo nods softly.

"But, right here, right this minute, I'll pretend for a moment that none of that matters. Just let me see the man you are here and now." You look at him with a tiny smile, wanting to see the person he was in the moment.

"Well, so far, I'm the man who has let you put on his coat and eat his sweets. If I had access to a kitchen, I would make you a drink and we would sit and chat in a more comfortable spot."

You chuckle softly, you find yourself reaching for one of his hands, taking it in your own. He lets you, watching you do so.

"What else?" You ask, keeping your voice soft. You like the atmosphere you have created.

"I am the man who will look after you for as long as it takes your friends to find us. I shall be the best company I can be right now, if you'll continue to let me." He meets yours eyes, feeling the way you place your fingers between his.

"Not like I have much choice." You grin cheekily.

"I'll take it." He closes his fingers over your hand, letting you settle your entwined hands on your lap.

"When we get back to the house... maybe we could have that drink?"

You feel his breath fanning across you face. He feels all the more closer now as you look at him.

"If you would like that, I won't deny you the pleasure of my company," he smirks.

"I have to say, your company is nice."

Your noses are almost touching. You're really not sure how you find yourself to be in a position where you would even consider getting any closer to him.

"You changed your tune rather quickly, haven't you?"

"Seems so."

His eyes flicker to your lips. Oh, the temptation is strong.

"Maybe we should see how things go." You're whispering now.

"I can wait."

"I won't make you wait too long, after all, you're on borrowed time." Now you're looking at his lips.

"The bitter truth."

"Just means we have to make the most of it. Show me the Zemo I see before me. It won't change the fact they'll send you straight back to prison, but it might make us friends." You stare into his seemingly lost gaze. There's something about the way he's looking at you that you can't read, but he does look lost.

"My free little bird." He whispers.

"Trapped in the cage that is you." You let go of his hand to wipe the tear from his cheek.

He hadn't even realised.

Suddenly, you hear voice from the other side of the door. You hate to do it, but you part yourself from Zemo and stand up, dusting yourself off despite the fact you weren't all that dirty.

The door takes a couple of big tugs, but the boys get it open.

Zemo gathers himself as he gets up from the must old floor, patting down his pants as he stands beside you.

"We were looking for you two," Bucky says, coming over to you.

"We got trapped."

"Why are you wearing his coat?" Bucky looked you up and down.

"I was cold. Zemo was being a gentleman." You cross your arms.

Bucky eyes the Baron suspiciously.

Zemo shrugs and places a hand on your back gently.

"Shall we leave this horrible little place now?" He asks you.

You nod and walk out with him. You walk a little closer to him than you had before, and he notices it. His arm settles around you as you both leave the building together.

It's strange how such a small incident could bring you closer to someone you never expected to. You look at Zemo and smile. You'll make the most of the time you have left with him.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn

[cinnamonest]

The slut Kokomi ask- I was literally thinking to myself while wandering around the sangonomiya shrine that, Kokomi when not being a girl boss is definitely sitting in there getting absolutely railed by her little boy toy Gorou, I definitely see her as the brains of the duo, and he really is just a dumb thing with a big dick to her, at first she just uses him as a stress reliever, this is just casual sex to her and nothing more, but to Gorou he believes that she loves him and he already worships her so there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’s love. Eventually Kokomi will have to explain to him that it’s not love, she knew this conversation would be coming but chose to hold off because if it went wrong where else was she going to get good dick? Effectively making her situation worse by letting his feelings fester, when she first tells him he’s taken aback, probably in denial that her excellency would play with his feelings like that and not be truthful with him. At the end of the conversation she’ll probably try to break it off saying that it was her mistake and unprofessional in the first place, and I can imagine him snapping after hearing that, lunges at her and drags her to the nearest wall just to fuck her against it, she’s always encouraged him to be a bit rough because she knew he would never actually hurt her, oh how that backfires on her now, he thinks to himself, “he’s the dominant one in this one sided relationship of his, even if he’s worshipped Kokomi for a while, he gets to call the shots and how dare she think that she can just abandon him like that.”She won’t have time to protest when her face is shoved against the wall with her ass up, by the end of it she truly will be fucked out, every hole was used and abused by her sweet little general Gorou. From that point on, Kokomi may be the grand strategist that leads her army, but behind closed doors she’s just his dumb little cock slut, honestly he prefers her this way, it feels nice to be on the receiving end of all that worship he blindly gave her, he deserves it at this point, at least from his pov.

(I am a firm believer in the wife Kokomi agenda, how’s she gonna walk around in her cute little outfit, her innocent little girly aesthetic, those shorts???? There’s no way she’d last long without getting non-conned by someone, and she’s an army leader???? Gorou thinking to himself: “doesn’t she know that women are supposed to answer to men” I also believe the Gorou has the same kind of sexist mindset as Razor, the, it’s just the way things are in nature mindset)

Y'all this tweet is so cute though

Another follower of the Wife Kokomi Agenda excellent, the one true way

Can you blame her? I mean boy is basically a living bad dragon dildo with that knot, and he does all the moving too! He's the ideal sex toy! I'd use him too ngl. Poor thing, he has such a teeny tiny brain to go along with that massive cock and all 3 brain cells are consumed by Kokomi-ism. Head empty only her excellency

He has a duality, an inconsistency of thought, both sides due to his canine nature. On one hand, worship and loyalty! Like a doggie to its master, he just!!! He could spend all day talking about how much he loves her!! Poor Resistance soldiers, anyone who is like "hey Gorou why do you like Kokomi" is immediately subjected to the standard 4 hour presentation he has memorized and rehearsed to give at any given moment. His tail wags uncontrollably when she comes into a room, his eyes are wide and bright. He has the most obvious crush in the world.

But dogs can also be... Aggressive when they feel threatened. Even the sweetest, most loving dog knows how to bite. When something tries to take the person they love away from them... Even if that thing is the person themselves... But his doggie brain rationalizes that if he just shows her how much he loves her, she'll love him back. That's how it works.

The best part? It takes the knot a while to stop swelling, so even after she's thoroughly bred, twitching and panting and numb, with dazed eyes and a belly swollen (dogs cum a LOT), they're still locked together, and she couldn't pull away even if she wanted to, the knot is snugly fit inside. It keeps her plugged up so no cum spills out. That way she can be bred with all his puppies and then she'll love him forever. But for now, since he physically can't pull out, he can wrap his arms around her and hold her tight and nuzzle into her neck while she numbly twitches, his fluffy tail wagging back and forth the whole time.

And yesssss I love that he WOULD have that mentality! It's not even really intentional or derogatory, a lot of it is just pre-programmed into his brain. His human side wants to be respectful but... his instinct is to breed. He doesn't so much intentionally see her as a lesser out of disdain or arrogance (he does kinda worship her at the same time after all), so much as he just looks at her, and his brain registers only hips, thighs, waist, tiddy (which is her fault seeing as how much she shows those things off). Thighs that act like cushions for his hips, hips and waist for handlebars and holding babies on the hip, tiddies for feeding, for his pups (and him) to suckle on... How can he not look at her and see a puppy-making machine?? His animal instincts don't pay mind to feelings and all that, it just registers that there is a very much unbred, non-pregnant female who would be very suitable for breeding in front of him. So that instinct kinda takes over any rational thoughts he could have had. And she's supposed to be a puppy machine, in his instinctive brain, that should be her priority, since she's the one that carries them, she should forget about all that other stuff.

Male dogs can be aggressive towards the females, too, when it comes to forcing them to do what they want... to the point of grabbing them with their teeth and dragging them away, too. Especially if the female is trying to interact with another male dog... You can't blame him for getting mad and dragging her away. Or grabbing her and growling when she doesn't do what he wants. He apologizes later, but in the moment it's just instinct. She's the weaker mate, of course she should do what he wants.

Unfortunately, our boy's cum is highly potent... Unlike with Razor where it might be a coincidental chance, with Gorou there's a 100% guarantee he'll end up breeding her with at least four or five puppies, minimum. Poor Kokomi is gonna be a busy mom. No time left for war strategy and all that, only nursing and playing with the... Fish-dog babies.

[cinnamon-bunni]

fun fact: i wrote this all while listening to Positive ☆ Dance Time on loop :) also this fic, which i made quickly in one night, is so much better than my first chapter of my other fic (and the second one too lol) (also this was not reread even once soooo there will be mistakes but oh well <3) i also wanna say this probably takes place between chapters 3 and 4 (both i havent written yet haha ^^;) so i'll probably post this onto ao3 then. just so yall know timeline stuff lol anyways, hope y'all enjoy it <3

Word count: 1.5k Warnings: idealization of suicide

When Kim woke up, the first thing that greeted him was darkness. The second thing was a headache. A horrible way to wake up, but as something Kim was familiar with, he stopped caring.

In an attempt to sit up, his head tried to kill him. So, he went back down with a thump. And not a soft one either, since the couch–because he was on the couch, not his soft and comfortable bed–was more wood and springs rather than cushion and sponge. It made his back ache, in a way that made him want to scream. But alas, he was too tired to, and instead closed his eyes in hopes of falling back into a blissful sleep. It wasn’t going to happen, Kim knew that, but sometimes he liked to cling onto small hopes.

It was silent for a while. Kim almost believed that maybe he fell back asleep, if it weren’t for every part of his body hating him. His throat was dying for water, his head was throbbing, his skin was prickly and felt fake as it rubbed against the shitty fabric of the couch, every single one of his muscles ache, and his brain wanted to turn off and never turn back on. Maybe it would be better if it did just turn off. Then at least he wouldn’t have to deal with days like these.

Turns out, hangovers made everything about a hundred times worse. But that was Kim's fault, wasn’t it? He made that choice, and now he had to deal with it. That’s just how the world works, Kim. He could just hear his dad’s lectures in his head. It made him want to throw himself off of a cliff. And he thought about it, and it didn’t seem that bad of an idea. The world would keep moving either way, no matter if a cockroach like him was at some bar getting drunk or drowning in a river. As long as it was something that would kill the noise in his head, then he didn’t care.

The front door opened. The loud creak announced someone’s presence, and it made Kim squeeze his eyes shut. The action made his eyes hurt, yeah, but he really didn’t want the possible light to pour in and force him to face the world. He didn’t want to, not yet.

“Ji-Ho?” Oh. He didn’t even realize his sister was here. It made sense though; it wasn't like anyone else had access to his apartment. Her voice was quiet and soft, unlike her usual pissy tone she used at him.

Right. Hana. His sister who wrapped up his bloody knuckles after getting brawls or just beating the shit out of punching bags while drunk. His sister who rolled him onto his side after officially passing out. His sister who dealt with his shitty living style and shitting apartment for the summer without much complaint. His sister who always tried to make his world brighter, even if she was bad at it. His sister, who seemed to care about his well being.

Kim forced his eyes open. It was hard, but he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but light was effectively blocked out with the curtains. Some of it still snuck in from underneath the short curtains, and it hurt to look at it. He really should just get used to it by now.

“Ji-Ho.” His sister spoke louder now, probably expecting an answer. It made him wince, but look at his sister.

“What?” God, his voice was so hoarse. He really needed to get something to drink. 

“Don’t you have work today?” Kim furrowed his brow. He probably did in all honesty, but that didn’t explain why he drank so much when he knew he had work. Maybe he just stopped caring. That seemed to be a recurring theme. 

Oh well, wasn’t like he was gonna go now. He’d rather die than step foot into the WVBA. He didn’t even think he could take a step outside of his apartment, much less get in a good set of work clothes, get his ID, and deal with the idiots down at the association. Maybe his sister could keep him company.

Hana then turned on the lights, and Kim wanted to do nothing else but kill her. He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, but the damage had already been done.

“Hana,” he groaned, falling to lean against the arm of the couch. “Why would you do this?”

She scoffed, and he could hear her eyes rolling. “You’re so dramatic. Maybe if you drink all the time you wouldn’t be having these problems.”

He grunted at that as a response. He listened as she moved what sounded to be plastic bags, and opened up cabinets. Maybe she went shopping–it was something he knew he needed to do, but always ended up pushing it further down in his to-do list. Maybe now they could eat proper food, like canned soup and frozen pastries. 

Kim, by using every bit of his willpower, pried his eyes open. His eyes took forever to adjust to the harsh light, but he tried. He listened silently as his sister put away what he could only assume was groceries, and focused on how horrible his muscles and body felt.

“Are you still taking me to the match today?”

Huh? What match? Kim didn’t remember there being a match. “What’re you talking about?”

“Don Flamenco’s match!” she exclaimed, as if it was obvious. She slammed a box of chocolate Pop-Tarts on the counter and spun around to face him. “You promised me that I could watch all of Flamenco’s matches in person!”

Oh yeah, he did, didn’t he? He even bought all of the tickets. He didn’t remember that last part, though.

“And I have to go and watch today’s match, because he’s going against Little Mac! I need to see how it goes down in person, Ji-Ho!”

Honestly, Kim wanted to see that for himself, too. Watching Don Flamenco get his ass handed to him by some seventeen-year-old kid would be hilarious. And it would be a good enough time to take a quick detour to buy another pack of cigarettes–he was sure he was getting low, and he hated the feeling of a light box in his pocket.

But also, the idea of going somewhere that was packed with screaming fans made him feel sick. He didn’t want to go into a stuffy room filled where he would sit shoulder-to-shoulder with people who cared too much for some dumb sport. He hated the idea of getting up and forcing himself to go somewhere.

“Can’t you just go by yourself?” She was sixteen, Kim was sure she could handle it. She didn’t need a chaperone to follow her around. She really didn’t need him.

The stomp she gave made him flinch. He hoped the downstairs neighbors didn’t mind some good ol’ ceiling shaking caused by his sister. “What? No fair! You promised you’d go with me!”

“When the fuck did I say that?” No way did he actually make the promise. He never makes promises he knows he won’t keep.

“You said so when I first got here! Now c’mon–it doesn’t start until a few hours, so you have plenty of time to sober up or whatever you need to do.”

God, he didn’t want to go. He wasn’t going, he just couldn’t. Kim knew he was weak because of it, yeah, but the thought of going made him want to pull his hair out and walk into the ocean.

“I’m not going, Hana. You can go yourself.” Oh, now she was angry. Her face was actually getting red and everything.

“That’s not fair!” she yelled. Jesus, was her voice always that shrill and loud?

“Don’t really see the problem,” he replied with a shrug. “You get to enjoy a boxing match that has Don Flamenco in it without me hovering over you all the time. You should be ecstatic.”

“But-”

“Tickets are on my dresser,” he continued. “So don’t forget them when you leave, yeah?”

“You’re horrible!” He shrugged off that one, too. He felt numb to it all. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing, but it made it easy to talk to his sister.

He didn’t even realize that she left until the door slammed. Kim hoped quietly to himself that she grabbed the tickets–he knew she’d regret it if she didn’t. But he didn’t care enough to check.

Now that he was back to being alone, Kim ended up laying back down. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, not on that horrible couch and with his back problems, but closing his eyes felt nice and relaxing.

He knew she was looking forward to it. He knew the WVBA was probably trying to make sure his position was being covered. He knew a few of the boxers were probably wondering where he was. But Kim couldn’t bring himself to care.

He just didn’t care.