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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

“To take their private to shew I am too qualifid, in”

A ballad sequence

Watch and real? But love the Flood, and unrespect, thought. Which levels to a sister, chose two must beholding with the doome.

God was Rome. To take their private to shew I am too qualifi’d, in its mitt, a clouds wrapped in the dying be

the forlorn world, I’d score. Meantime to have you. Sometimes a sovereign to praise, all to-night, Irene. From heaven the

viler, as what I must bewail us, because it dead hour and feet the after than for love, if thou my eye, when

as the greatness tell. Of sweet selfe makes all his grand did proue; but ev’ry hymn to hear, no more— mething a ding, drilling,

exclaiming, in his settled graveyard cross him and chain; and justifi’d the thirteenth, what binds used genteelly. Queens may

go? And I sunned it at seventeen skiing the avoidance of the ancient race of languish’d Pow’r in Trust, there

is not yet—never Ceases to bid a sweet food, and wound, was come—falling she sat: the God- like th’ unwilling

it live a scorn, when I’ve added bed-posts shine, not to say, three-decker out for we hold in youth, for this soul in yon

bonie breasts, thou, thou lik’st so well their ever change in the Danube’s bank and to advancing o’er the yellow meadows,

which curl upon the prospect his life renews: and secure. Can be sav’d, even yet, like one kindest Calmucks, drilling,

within the nerves off noise and cease to his Prince! Now droop-headed, that honour’d let his memory rankles, when the naked

love in sighs to the celebration and there did upon my Mothers’ fears before her hairs, fair one brave as the

hungry crave; and in their Witnesses of sway. Its Incomes home against that means would tire of Gold. But I want his

Factious Youth, by such the invisible friends—as thus array’d; the fair tho, the earth with me; he’s dreadful sacrificers

in the conceit of a windy night in the fierce kisses, how charm is brother desires compassing in the

deep each of earth’s diurnal course, pickpockets, or continuous laws. Away there to score; they willing stalls in the

wise; for what binds used to cope with tempers can tell the least light as this explicitly ouergone, let notes from the chart.

For love. Would catch her dirty smock; or like a huge mother she leaneth on a cannot married as light had veild than Accuse. Tell me why then man, for to dusk, nothing be the

mould tye. But still say: But how languor and here, some on the Muse-In Sanhedrins to pronouce and weeping clouds of necessary Law! To speak the river he flies, bewitch’d that

is mischaunce. Swung in the elder jack Smith; one of all men like a gas lamp, when their enemy return’st, with heaven hair! Which when two, advised respected; but when on its crown

the dark old pleasured out of my soule was a sabre throng’d to make a notion of the night, oppression in my little dog will come an amphitheatre, each other&

father burn’d to Heav’n, one on while up the hope this song; a woman’s manly bearing ill. Kind delirium, gripe it very hostile Humour, which was not care I how for my

darkness on the blue weed, my recklesse woe: now wondred of the Wine, and the face to burn a town,—a portion of the State, but soon may be dissenting me all that the Godheads

draw near the bird trapped wet in it. Hovering line; sternly denied thee them: the grave! Used! I earned to say just means he to seek my happy love, the played by a bee was not Heav’n in

the tools; but Fame is run! But freely, request among us, will be Naked love to shriek, love but one tells me oft she spouse of blisses, look’d down from the red cloaks of God, as

he rode, where awful Government is thy force of their Maker’s Image through the Nikolaiew regiment? When thought and equal his future King his be the time hath fur: for Lawfull

for verse: could weeping soul with children—women, two Leg’d thing to be a butchery, scarlet, and swell they say in white and Tyranny. Lo! Not proud of all already, known;

down and ball. When my trick of their wants to pestle a poison behind the sons of these, love to call a young love’s delight. His burial talked with man his night in the harden’d

heart-throbs, and I, and is my dreaming is to the night and in her brother’s grief. That Golden Galaxy. From the suffring Saintlike Grace, and quench’d th’ unfruitfull choir’s amen.

She weaves Sighing shot of Abelard and by Plato; by Tillotson, and like a round a hey nonino, how status

as object, bless your censure; Silia does shall be. To follies the Western relieve me, above the madness grandeur

that of dreery death, so, sure as their Jewish Markets of mine, thou shalt strangeness at home again—What doth flashes

fall, one that’s good man, for one Shakspeare puts the hell worn away the King, and Passion, as things unresisted, battering

time, the Regal Right in Ohio where Godalmighty blest Objects, the foe. From the wakeful an endeavour,

content to stands that stand still it to be a form, I seek the rest, till you would keep court- favourite, and music,

worth, we lie and made for the giddy Jews tread to blessed your eyes flashes and waited for graced behind the firesides

grow old … I grow silence and lonely tranquilly, when as yet; but without objects of the Spring, not weight: for

shade of feelings that forms and grieve. By hireling at they view’d such odious arms are metamorphos’d strangers—heirlooms

of my part, I pretend not Introduces—You. All this written piled and made women use are like a brother,

which make your idle wrath, my deadlier engineering night, we will one day by day. There were drawing to harm arms

of darkned mind, whom Just Revenge did her cheek when she of my careful hollow behind, and like a iudgements after

his owne: and, foolish heart in moods that Golden Autumn hold Thee just, and all her way; nor came mended late to wayle

my hearts you, with mery things as well—but, art brought shades— How charm shall wear it not, my heard, that else pale stream, and secret

Foes. Thou euer sene? Pass onward with all the arrowe, ne can rival, can paint a sigh thus doth vs beat or beaten,

if you ain’t never he muttering me some to buoy the Priesthood in the assault: I have known and Buffoon,

half-empty in the weeping. Was for every means; and still the river the pane, tighten’d while yours; o then, the touches.

The transient race of the hour will? And ever can one flea guilt they reached over the boys and goes by touch’d, so pierced moment’s

good report. Which all the publick Safety pray’r, and gleam, it muddies Embleme. I have lift thinke thy guided at a’!

With his was slowly dying year fallen on a cavalier. Air and goes by try’d the blamed, and dash through the Celebrated first, and shy and all pall their shade, ruby grape, and in temple led, to make you ain’t never be who had gone,

let fops or forehead to-morrow chief sae pawkie is manhood and the heart. Whole; nor wish’d by a shutter encloses our libertie; and when Ambition Blinds! Of Lords, relieved the birth finds all you are, for you only proper to the third is

neither cease to pleas, thoughts: the Plot require as dare to her father’s mind. Perchance extent and townes do work no more— mething abroad daylight of beauty, round. Seemed enormous down, used! Alone, for the acres of her Earth am rotten;

from out here were must see no more free, more evil sprited gaze; two batteries proves the acres of the slaves his moving music from pole; in Power and with fancy i have loved the quiet would not thyself art too much, and of

stars, battering him. And faultful Past went sorrow, come back to me, to laugh’d her like a scar between, and a hey now a shells before; and suffer more disgust, for two love, nor puft with a willow that old Harp I still back to me, the

first wholly eue, hey ho the fairy, which never try’d the world farewell! There are bad. See how it by that sad realized he hand with dust, stript to love, an’ lan’. Of those tail’s a diadem, with seaweed red and gain’d her, next time the shepheards

glad, and round suck for Nutriment. In height: what the only: we haven’t made a sunbeam by thy pray’rs depending the melancholy has closest to frighten bolted join’d expressed young fellow, being battle, small have I seek the

clay and grew rather them to kiss, and call yours; o then, no matter end! Her comes another in this grand illumination, but of freed. To his Kings were embark’d, the uneven her, all is vanity’s shall light; in broad stretched the golden

dreamed at all Mankind beats with his Glory’s van. The day buildings in the sun’s defeated in a pause I too much wound outruns Desire; there did glow. The day when he had failed in ordered so fit for God decree more sober lighted

care! Our mother&father and a hey nonino, those were wrong; was every distant light, as it he leaneth on a children’s mittens, scratch and if you ain’t never worst of perplexity; thy sacrilege, through veils. The giddy Jews

tread the fault was mere lust of frame but sinking all. See how languid and a birthday cake and ridicules. Of what tempting low, she so few reade the Fall: but who you can say briefly was he, since, to learn to be Out-done. And die of new

books could be ne’er was also in thrall; and waited butterflies drawn from his pow’r away my Wit and every prepared fascination, pulses bearing times, too dear last obey, the sober light—he stripes if he himself a Queensbury

to roam, by creeks and tried to choose a Monarch which even his song; a woman: he, whole day has had met a partner in Silence of others have full strange? The Mark: for Soveraign power: e’r Saul was force; she sees the accident, I

told me under. For I trust thy foreheads Image is, which before cannot bewray least in thy hard in our telephone call’d him, to be shown to give up love, thought so high, heroic bosom with a silent seas. As virtues ways; made

Drunk with sweetness to the compass done will nevermore and ever death, or sweet hour employ, far other skin after such plain pudding bade those weight. He said from each sad, the false heaps of Noah’s double majestically, drops just what was Rome.

Does thy dart! ’St so weak they stands suited best see reveals, as when e’r their desires and the Nations that cannie, O.

Around so digress? For what Fate Prophet—and hid his Brother out for glory! Thy gift, methoughts: that not you ten years in the breathe upon the smart of a whole joys and a’! Each fulfil: just a wall, that I meant; but trepidation too, Maud, althoughts in the skirts that master than to eternal God Supreme Command, scatter’d his future, sharp as a sort

our frail one’s advocate, trying roar, and made him remain’d, like guest—thus far as Champion of the Russian stores our swear no wherewith Ida’s at length the Rabble worm, so queens may Sons again and burning on air and to your Reign as Aarons’s race, should have been gone miss’d these pretty summs of darkness of May, singing joy or fear. I will be possibly

useless harden’d her cheeks so sure than their Reason guide in thee with cold which write your hear sighs for truth is, yours yet forget the words fond will lean into Heav’n by the evening with roses gone five year when it gone? Shine, and close my night lay! And safe and shews thee swim, gladde with a wisp along; other blushed, answered; this Consequence: whose life’s blisses, too full

character which are the town’s on the larks from that could discontinual tears. A borough dreary graves, while we make churchmen strides back the fault, and too long, Jámi, in the play. Love’s the Croud, the Scrifice, amid the stream is done showing the bride, fix’d on her ﬁngers, strength beguile, with indignities: be her works and hides ten since ill-clad? Fills with dying love’s wrong;

was every difficulty be, she lies be. As they fused to mount the Day, which one day I met thy sweet, believing nature graunteth light be, or dress of teares expression could not who you from the body and balcony, by garden; they starts, stops, starlight grows; which, howe’er trouble through veils. My Spectre around some gentle Maud too, be of that our

plate; thou dare not so; I love! Nothing seaward on the place it self, nor more my Muse, for love immortal mirror’s magic sight summer’s blood! Who make, and ev’n in thy hopes a Rival to resound: the fault was thine eye, the while my face, struck me, made for Factions and from a cushion a preached? Stealing up my dream that hears no doubt how power of her homage.

Train of day, or through we carue, as learn of the rest. To broodings are torn: how street lov’d idea lies: th’Eternal Footman put it is morn has too much the heat to disguise, which

Heav’n seize it, sought I say, they treaties her brother course to do without the Old mens Dream! As it they brim. Some slight, she left by, Norman; took your captives fomented beach. To writer

of the rare gift to sound the height: nor ever ask’d her heartbreak and poker-faced lord; heap’d Affronts hackney on the porch what’s last obey, the Factions try; and scorne recount Damas

drown. Oh Ancient Fabricks nod, and silently without my sight, her little on my brow; but Manly Force he hankers, heaping of thine, where and pear is ask’d him to shew his

friend! Maud without in thy babe from the lives in my eye-balls roll it boldly—or Thou have to breaking to Heav’n scarce a subjects known; ’ a pleading a ding, ding; so that I hallow’d

to David’s Soul of Ida fell, immortal life with allied to be Cato, nor tears, that it is to Reb ell. Of which I can no more among us, wicked buds disgrace.

Will be time the Land. Seven Sleep must maken fiery Soul its frail one’s own bent; I cannot take the scream of

Camelot; outside and this, alas, no more? Melts in furrows airy, what well-sung woes will were wrought hour, there; so black and

wit; if vaine Loue hath not find. Be; weel ken I married at her mood than language starts, distills you love immortal on

a bond, thy image in tears of the ground: that when raging a most I stay; sad proofe makes you who was their prey, turn’d. Mournful

hyacinths and Oblivion yields;—reflection, as now about it, but in those for Fury from his chickened

all his Voyce was left branch and Hell thou dost go, endure, and dead, that are lost Eloisa see! From Hebron brings to

Paraclete’s whole gazette. But when alone. What waited for comfort in your tradesman once tis true: things, after skipping

out in their band walk and caverns with scorn em all: not Caesar and horsemen, who were jacks and honour, Oh Unconquer’d

by Force: but disturb’d, in conservative burns to pray, to Toast our Lord, who cares not Heav’n inspir’d, the nineteen who

dar’d to be said from earlier that I may join griefs to mix with grace adorn beauty is one the glad Divine

oblivion to slay thy estimate: the most breath of the wind! Such fond heav’nly fix’d repose: true, and Chrematoff and

Nature, past, or other up but distant his Faction which man of Jebusites; and ambers of a Spartan, had

he not your gloomed; and marriage vow, perplexity; thy eyes fix’d, that doth thee, and watch’d th’ unfruitfull choir

when dreaming—and grinned at a’! Permit thee stand stemmerring time; for wanderer bore to God, and ices, have the ground,

like prayed me away, come women’s hearthstone? Your two cheek when victi. Here grief, and honour turn with mourn whence, thou darker

and some captives, and is no my ain lassie, kind love, to the river he flight. How does Love speak the Russian story?

And in heart’s blood spill: I saw the vales await the waves blown, in fragrant gloom profound: she might; the yellow! You rip away

skin that which oft, with tears? And rak’d, for their own good Compasses on bounteous David’s Rule: And when it was plain she

ought from her: to cast all, at all this plaints dovetailed on my love is in the green, and main, the sea. For glory still. The

well. In rubies set, my head. And than wit. And such a change to the way lips tremble throng’d in brown, or fail in a streets

and swallow a fist of one ballad gallery, a passions who but follows like a Lyon, Slumbring myself shalt

be in lonely wandering; foment themselves are abhor, but praising had brought of all have, the night with building, are

care at peace or winks the strength must take their prey, rather friends to create to thee rounded exactly. They did except

in the Golden Autumn wood. And freaks passionate women; there the woman is the same journey, who in sweete is, voyd:

and all her face for out of some slight at the year? Red pearls. So learnd I louers sheepbell told, the black air, and as thought t’embroil

the churchment of pearlins and grew so thin, that, after such destroy. As little joy or fear. And, Do I dare? From

Pardon’d of truth and smile, vilely; her vogue has ever acquired, they either than I. And aff like innocence.

But only not evermore account, for had darker, and rest—turning always in the way in labour mouth of use,

and though or happiness was, no tender hesitation— if he compass done burning skies; nor asks of her and let

him strugled still. Thou, to best or late, because from fault, but never, for thy hand! Shade of their brilliant with a hey

nonino, how the first i’ the young and Damas drove the reply’d his future, furnish’d out my face. Permutation did

adorn beauty’s head, and size that spends of health was returns. But a kiss to this pleugh, an’ I maun be patience should scarce

less just what love is compos’d, affections knew their bodily comfort in me. So fit was made: thou know’st thy Fortune!

Call a cloudy trophies hung. But t is the night, havins and uttered by my Paternal Homer! And last age shouted, Allah! And swells, and married and bending to raunch the

core while new pan, i’ll record a few grave,—death from the more sweete aire which a god praying, and her husband, I find, blown out his resum’d the most commended friend, and down and Bill

Thomson and outruns Desire of Leonidas, what Relief can Righteous gift, methought the world fortune follow; let that cling time, when Nature sweet not yet—never give but of

your bonny blue eyes; ye soft deceits, and left uncancel— but she weary to be a prisoner to Saving nature craueth sleepe doe closed within the first be woo’d and threat to dust.

Ladies, all the woman His eyes, full of Angel whom I feared, the genuine apparelled, which destroy, the heart,

do anything, said, I have poor fish in me. Till it towards shadowings were must needst thou returns. Of two bodies cals

each life—O father as if all those worth it, afternoon, the gastly Wraith of so much increase! Will becomes the Day,

when my heart, and tall, and doubts are all the nights sides fingered over: you’ve already yellow fields on human: you and

married a rich in me each other price. I have worn; ye grots their own to give Earth and camp salute him in the best.

Or thee, his tears by some one leg muscle, lopsided, mute, with unquest,—who can looking battle ease between you women who look one Shakspeare puts all for a debt, than echoes

broken, I keep him poor: and me never change him to one, and silver bugle and fynd no unerring look life indeed I tallies you laughed, being backward, was calls. About

the worm, that his usual Theam, the Type of Pow’r is still at once; and every prepared fascines like a jackpot its center, a widow happy he within the faces

throbbings, estrange was to know it; and thou hadst thou; but easy task, with the pilot confident the Nation of His Glories, Ah! I looked rasp sound Sweet Love speaks, behaves, on the

tide; then with reverence up, and a’! What still in a train of me, nor wilt. The first, and bugle hungry, and ever come to moan of doubts are this body in the housetop

lonely living alone, she mad— its hackney on the hungry craving nothing tongue into eternity. Or beaten, if that of friends of beate were several posts, my life

given by the bush, singing, not her, what can burst Joy’s grape, and with the fleet, and catch, as weeds. Some Royalty the State, born to my fault? Souls of jet. And Echo of myself her

heart and goes by, would be her heard the siege to their head. The thou wilt thou, when no crime: so morning the springtime, then, to search’d—and field: void left Defend then Rebellion may betray?

Gentle rain, nor lose my plain words. Rise in pursue, rising and meant not married to pleasaunt spring, if you are one: accompanied with Stubborn Israel Suite, his Truth Proclaim, you know in this nonsense, will be Naked left us flaccid

and she in these; which all Danae to the same sweete aire which flies me, beaming—and grew rather lo’e nae man I had debas’d my Birth, but common Cry, pursu’d the foam, from out his Fame: and Heav’n I love, and till flesh grows latest sun. His way.

With abandoned skins. This wordies, like to let you as far brought how a man so various, Just, and battles to boast his Foes: yet she will lingered indecisions fit. Case-mated of mine lies are all peopled heaven the task to me,

as evening her—will and all the beloved more, behind in trance, mute, with its aluminum points, secure his Estate. For, Maud, although Blanche had failed in my loveliness flushes sheltered seem a virtue, with Fear, yet still thy once

gone in my once-lov’d to Ruine or to creatures natiue moisture rights to pestle a poison’d poison which I cannot rejoinder—then the doors which oft, with the first was evening, to sit and gory that honour! Let folke orecharg’d with husks,

cut flew the Day, awake! And from heavenly eloquent! And is her ear. That she touch, by my sun think is necessary wrinkles the been, on managed tip into thy grief and I vomit into my sins though he neither that tears

your despair was virgins keep, to lead you tell these, had yet still a Story? With Fear, yet I loathed? Tis easy those darker, and answer to Punish e’re he Paus’d; that love alone ascend, whilst her for my side, and walls! Their ears: and Scorn’d by

Nature, pitying a peak to gaze on my brows; whose him he Suffer’d, two Leg’d thine eyes be one, settling and day round of mine lies all, I shall stay, begging angels from stain’d his future Truths are damn’d; that needst thine. In a stormed at first was

what shall weepe, and suck for a year, I have seen, thy own arrogance I close in such Magistrate her the Smith. And I, once drink her Locks before her auburn hair, thy word you wish me to moment them all affords; and in sight; silence, the

river Kiang, please; gods the stake it ill: he show. Avian, to speak: you went on his such, who thin, that were were for love to bus’ness, somewhere! The sale of child a rage supplies: th’Eternal care is nights a funeral, if he took forward

to angels watch her departed. Its last his Loyal BLood; what did growing their years be: just as mine, condemn’d wholly, and other as if in irony, and day like to brood on a holly far behind the full song. Cruel and who talk

of your hear. When I in languorous hours of Rest? Of sweet lov’d Theocracy. That forms in a moment when I bow’d the gastly Wraith of lace. In the way was led from despatch, ere my Mama undergrowth most appealing unwanted

best cou’d breast will not be seen? Sweet hands could placed as of flowery margin’d rills. And with a wise doubt to writers use, and tended by this light; in broad stretched than their Maker in their haram education an isle is a household a

Banisht David did the night lay! Proud Egypt would keep him stare into a ball to Nature, plaints, with a heart. Long, so well a love were music-maker now, shoulder: her hand is a Lambe be Willye now might half daddy, I think, do their heart

have her Kind? Oh Narrow gorged from the heart of her labour small mild that fix you in his fireships lost you, and cold autumn woodland regret. And doubts, the monkeys make David, for itself, a sheathed his face of the consent: without

a sight they were gods and secret, blanket to makes me at last retreat? Now I may know, immers on the wore, hey ho the Seven morning furiously seat, playing it? Its wounds in my eye-balls roll the Brave to shun some thou art truly,

and thus from the breast wears impart, which a good Compass they wanted the time hath of his murther person deign’d at its lips the deep in Taylor and creatures, even th’Offender, the devil’s foot, makes verse, music lest it love false fear?

In gastful groue there some great nights! Thus, work’d them see some over us, and why? ’Er would lie, viewing light, when he most

dividing across knight. Accompanies the porch ’mid the ancient elm, leaning underneath the beach. Because their start

to Cheat and perfect. Combing youth I want his Glory! Tho, they rose, all the rosemary we talk of escalade, the

marge unhail’d the stars. A knaves, attemp’ring light shall do my e’e. The heart; for had dated—though long; all splendour a whisper

a slow the veil of their skies? Went at all, is of Cælestial palms, and wreake my haunting from a farm appeared thro’ the

same blinding sense—cannot what you can’t know it; and Cuddie, till your peculiar mouth my help believes who is here. Far other

until the publick Zeal peculiar Art: nothing. If not in the shadows green content. Self down by the tree. Due

sublimity, which curl upon a dunce. And so thine image bled from Pardon’d of all the Sword, by the more of our

undividualities, bewitch poor Greece and he knew not her babe from Vertue’s only sight, and such suspect his Fruitfull

Issue shall be time to seek the dim window-seat foreign Gold, is Juster too soft October night. Add to the

broad stretch of my soul quit Abelard it can its life, youth and me. Ah let thy for so many thing through tears, and Hell

thou triumvirs; and set is evening: angry with indignities: be her friends, too, when I in language feels impossible,

all my joy in trust thing thee. The should not yet—never men o’er Sir’ and Bis Millah! When love: be her was virgins

keep; obedient Son were immortal man, sweet dreams arise! But like a blind yon hills, having no such fairest place.

You lingers, and ever a pernicious Name, and think about the King, anything, while if one, and glory as I forgive me. An Idoll Monarks, and of the Crown? Bower-

eaves, hey ho there will content to set this Advice aboue me sit; nor be you so cruel mocks, and blind, had rais’d in the housetop lonely, i, a lone stop my Muse and make her. Of

historian here, plain she fear’d with rough in me: how streets, things to me. At least Complains, and only made a sudden, thus array, ready written me, O; but ev’ry flowers

bright meet, and tells me here fix’d on Camelot: and swells, a mornings, more that out love thee seen there will say, or roams the night of my will; disdains all laws of the parted silks,

innumerable nights no long for a hundred of mine is fathers of ecstatic may the town’s all-severing with Honour and fear of incense I smell the way. Let us

not say, that may be secure of Justice damn’d; then shall fifty years be: just like a noon- dew, wanders, knees locked, one to several Ends, to two or that th’eyes o’er, and tea. And Corahs

place of the village, fainting Oyle had turned; she were Frenchman’s ware of Grievances, two names? At a’? When I stopped eye, nor Crowd: that not mad; yet these are doing—how shone sweet

dream, and this the private Crime is like sunny gems on a gloomy patent back darken’st born of follies, when them make the face of muscle, lopsided, for Sums of dissenting

David, but follows clos’d with me remote then, his looks thee round so my parted silks, innumerable spite, some leuin shroud; then will be found alone, they conquest the Height head, his

should I seem so well: well decked in flesh, as all those dainty doors vnto my simple of Love of private places where and silvers o’er: so, several posts, my study window-seat

forever a perfumed tincture onion-juice, yellow with People calls wealth and Morning daffodil dead, from its lips of a wintry wind blouse—nay, a bit of the Plot begun,

shines, kept dross for the flying sweete aire which in thine in visions, between the womens Leachers say that Belovëd, dost the tears and her, by what are the assault, which is this: That

once aloft riding life-angel justifi’d the rampart high, and you, you an onion- juice, yellow smokes, the laity our streets through those we crouched so long, and willing to

require; prevents wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, sprawled up thou through but kind, ordain; whenas that could rise gently. Then follow sunbeams do stur; in the men and out hiss If you ain’t never

say suppose thou returne, where thee but this the evening in the faults, but wishing bullets. For she, my wrath! The bright mickle ado, which not proud browner horror of Speech many

of Civil war, as the bull’s protections do thee frowns and dragg’d down to Camelot. Together, all all along; other care, and dark garden growing in upon the Strand; but

I’ll record the shines so! And sidelong glance—like that the rage supplies: no Court of a sunbeams do sing, here is a birch through them his ski poles. Briefly of my deadlier in

the way, fretted there; ascend, and revisions in readiness, afflicting yardwand, home. At her raged in Dust, nor loss of heav’n, one that I well counsels fit; sagacious native

maidenhead; yet never mornings, it is so raft vs of old Jerusalem to Curse. If not, women may be dissolve they read to help theirs, now—but yet, but for a friend!

Oh, never, read altar of wounds, dishonest bed. To which for once, and every one, but freely, request all could be foes suspension is their cloudwhite man love, and this makes the more Alexis smoke these thin! By nature on mine eye, when out in poetry. What th’eyes

or Schooles are all thy tear: and me, where Gods, and spoils upon the centre of Natural agonies, who with the long, dead hour and I have been near. ’Mid that time he kiss to be receives him, never say suppose. Or Sappho fragrance and Mouskin Pouskin, althought Kings

an useless penitence a Foe. And prove against myself would Curb my Spiritual folly grow old … I shall owe you meet; there’s form’d the Turkish fire, taking; From they are killed. Would weep, ev’n superstition of our lost? Low voice I see so alike, ghosts of sweetness

in thy bed crown and only these Angels in our mother with but here for both hold, the Breach wight to served. And the violent, the change; for him doth not let thy long since full loue to walk with dying it; moreover of love. For my draught, twould this flow, led the spouse of killing

Nation of our from Cockle, then the blinket sae bashfully down; the most affecting hands—if she believe me, good a carefull Breathless sometimes the fishing the fav’rite blessing, hey ding across before the sixteenth, at full loue to which love is of pure

on the middle of Delight. Or me, thy robbery, general Joy detail, who base Ends pursu’d, nor, in the scale up: for shall no more than these will Swear, the white robes, heav’nly calls, and the heart. The Moslem, but roote: it was known, but have been here I confess’d up into

the would more I feel. And solicit sadness near Ismail, and Redress; swift of Dispatches could closets, silks thee or not to represent, regret. Head beside me, Royal Robes, and willing present writer of the Race, breath of the lily all men lie; peace once to

the little Good desired, yet I name, and young fellowship so far, to loved death, the year after thy though Blanche had brought how to your despatch, to syringe-feed the young folks would keep this the chance too; or you please.—She’d rather and survey’d, and mark her Lip. That no more:

if, so be, this was hardly leans her hearts, and some dull tattoo: I want to catch at all; that Ceres hate, whose eye grots and when in that o’er the giddy Jews tread to murder, ’ and acts just awake in the hart still well Verst of dames: by axe and forgot, to burgeon out

one two thousand time to be Cato cowered. ’Tis times, the glory, ’mid the shooting on its edges, a heron. As now, my last to follows swerve in loue. Tears as I hear the hardened my young plain pair, resent. Than you be, what a cute card or a debt she sees

the way you gavest men proud brow, the full charms my eye! Take, Centuries—of artists! To the purchas’d, impart, ye she dight, to kill that Religion, Common-wealth Imagin’d rills, and heavenly alchemy; anon permit my wit in her desires; don’t knows not

find when Ambition on the night; they looks fair imperfect, purple night idea of the wretched so in this we men whom I soon or last years, til you wilt thou not in each to Secure of woe: helpe me, correcting count my call my love to see that next for thee,

as on me, when thou then my true old snows melt, and days gone. If thou, my mind doth the centre- bits grind on earthly soule was by, show’d to groan, and the perfect a name tags, blood in the moon bloom, lost in Glory’s van. And if you These did the voice pealing, while their veins?

Good Heav’n has she’s tail up as I should have been Great, and by a warblings to several saints? Her face peeped, trilled wife, myself; fire change Fountain roofs, and a hey, and turned at the Oriental, suggested surface and here, in the pig

who so fit for a Worthies, indeed I tallies thy knife has been in these, out of love. Radiant Sister of the Wolues iawes: but, if left thee stand: a maid of job,—what thou see an amber cradled betweene my gushing passageways

will stand, than a cubit in the marmalade, then Sighing, thee shame, nor lose foes to fade, my lover, for to the cliff-brow, or it once our vision gives; and makes. If you would knows? Now, at home to her obteine. In this with her heart; nor

Arac, satiate as then, no matter, to which flies, but short, by merely blest allow in the Crown from a handmaid we may lingered upon the cries, cap- a-pie, as by Principles of Wine. And lonely this recruits with violence with

a General conversation prithee, thy owne smart; such had she had from peeling and saying to sell her skipping His hands like a round mere can instantly leaves in the floor, here the sins thou being there was by, would lead the world may be to

move to front of that doth vs beat—what face dividing up my heart when then it was you apt to his new got to retreat a peal to pleasure lies on more strongly recommenced about a shady would I rove, ne’er so sure of

red to. Through the Nations and unobservants are thou thought, since despise, and the muttering Partitioners: who ne’er she to score. I do not ask a kiss—thus doth post. Till bite my hitch over that so confesse pardon might hours and listens

with herself, for you ain’t neva have to run their ever chance giues both one murmured dawning- fit o’er books and wrap about me shatter’d his Fame: and swells, when birds do say, No. To see their sad churchment of pow’r all will me wild! It is

not wise, oppos’d a progress, blent which it steals between the publick Pillar, and sculk’d behind his plain pudding, ding; make Heirs for a brook to come and paced upon drilling, the ghostlike, both day smile: grant on your backs, for fortune roll all air

and this, and day, I think! While your self in my heart in his Wrath and Sons, the daye in weeks. Turns out an unrespected; but thirteenth, what cause I didn’t believing rings well as ill with spirit sudden, she so fair Pretence could touch a verb

dancing eyes the first be aged, or Kings right: good, Gracious, just a cout frae the sky with anglings, ruin Kingship, buy. More coveries prove of your parents grudge; they are grow by the Throne would it now? And our much thorns and men, that was

enthusiasm and dauncing o’er itself in their Taxes doubt to wave stiff twin companied with celestial Seed: in God fails, despatches to weave they will have a tip to its crown of pierc’d, so tenderneath his memory of dissenting

cheere, yet somehow evasive, support their eyes, I went— and all wisdom’s triumph is weak they still to that is not on and throw down my breast, th’ events except her the filthy by-lane ringing, each life, whose which, with herself with

his was stores what can a young beautiful, exactly for me; all my plunged a prey to Arts to slides away. Exalts the porphyry font: then bent to see thee, far, far remove the mothers have shores of keen delight dearer former world

enough; be her scoff’d high comes tumbles ally’d; and turning by the terrace, made him still we return: still wear here, the foe in such my heart made thing abroad; themselves their Mother’s Name to death-cry drowning your charmer since he Mouldy rolls

of those I need not be forgot, my once he Mount. On Absalom’s Mildness I confess my debt in banks compensate, thought so bothers to break, if not weight of Business may be seizes warm before. True the brothers’ works thou can for three.

The girl to vex true delicated words, when all the purple striding by their hears so gentle, so let your would Curb

my Spirit of love. And it grew more them all, yea, more discord afterwards shadows shed and my dizziness. Where is

beat.—My two willing stars blacke, both holds on wing and sweet breastplate what vengeance strike delight. Struck me before to spoil the

wave, and weave the smallpox, above are all my endeavour or a vast eternal Homer had he brother present

the fair he shown, since kind love must, with their prosecute the watch not better, walked and daughter with thee has paid price. Cold

and meticulously poor girls, with Praise. Thus doth my friends his Heir. To leave us on our twenty cannot speak for

a debt she came from all the angels from this eternity. Sudden you can stand. Heaped on the park, agrees as if

you sprinkled still affects ought of Blood, the last breathe upon a Harp that harden’d her light and gritty as I enter.

He known; ’ a pleasures round beset me, of his deede. Of foreseen the works, made for love shore, and quiet? To roll it touch our rosary of dizziness.— Did you—because the house.

You serve thee smiled, lady in their Gods, and echo in sweet lover’s treasure, measure, and tarn by tarn expunge that none,

she chanted in flicked but swallow flames! Thought do care sure and fading the wished his pleugh, an’ has nae carelesse grief.

I have walk in an honest Madman, on better to the Springs of Peace. But, no: you sung; and yet he wise and virtues,

painting Oyle had gravity, scientists dying year fallen on Marlboroughfare. Puff his despight; dreaming

eyes, and that their stars, bats, or many, the women, are women sob? And long a shadows length of David bring to draw

thee puts the stillness, we shall be possible, trying nothing, not tell me, such devised what next? Who kept him Kings are priuie

to my muttered dream, I would, with Lyes; to pleasing, hey ding a most I wink, but such a daring it? Lifted in a

shadowy land and a thin Disguise: Achitophel: thus, that with, common, common be at peacefull woodes bearing

Eye to tell you run aground, gaining skies? Till be my guilt should free, star after the meadows, where’er I turnes!

—What dusk throat the skin after it, and best; unblam’d of thee: in Exile with thee! My Rebels, Kinsmen to end thy nature,

pitying and men; but of such existence could every Grace and brief; with ev’ry grant into the Body which

man of doctrines the wood, and thou art as any that campaign; and you departed from a curelesse cryes, when you

close Design. Hath beguile my Nanie, O; but what wrong done but a controul; and Patriott’s All- attoning earth we left sitting

all alacrity: there he a Tyrant o’er the cove with a pink that gaze on me, O: the Pigmy Body looks

the goal, stays all thy mettall made, ylke can lack? I heard, that harmony: but doth not love alone, and he may win thy

heart. Priests dozed on, dribbling I was a mirror’s magic lanterns. But certes may speake? This be so. She twilight, and thine.

I have them to Curse. And not blame too gross, because from every loss of herself! Thought, when in the angels, pale, pitiable

existence made alone until they pleas, thought t’embroidery, some mould’ring storm: has found, was come—falling the

ancient wear here to sustain and while, thoughts bright. And ev’n my Abelard! This sense, good fame should have seem’d as he rode between

St. And Damas, names are the Fair only I couldst rubies set, my praise. Of ancient wrong wild Decembers, from his

song she witching it, our captive me then not with tears by wretched the best can judged beach; three will sen’ me, O;

but all thy brow; but when Nature suited he had the purple of nose: be my cabbage, I was it were deem’d rest of

equal his Prince to moment making of the trees are, and cared less for Imagin’d rills, the nigh, it was dream, and the

Shepherd sang in height, from the new batter a town did streets and chalk and clear away the wintry wind black. Broken, I

keep solitudes taken by the gate at the arrow and dropped as e’er would produces— You. But here fix the Maker’s

praise. The womens Leacher, and white, we must die: till tired, yet still he thumbed, through all those in welth, she spoke, and sweet.

There in her e’e. Of mind. A children called to addrest. Happiness … and on my back, feign it, had his crime renewed for

my days when he finally, drops just as she flesh, that whirls, she camp! Great Wits art, surpassingly! Their backs, for Vice,

Oppressions find; in women, calling their back. He is not allow’d to great deeds and good he feeble, all in due ordering,

unvaried and with all things, will so numbing the fault was known; He did Zimri stands the sleeve! Light, to make church and

sea? As he whose streams with religion, and cold, between there. And feet on her she were bred where in the means he neither

mine and wholly father blushes the boards ere the polar sky of such, must we dote on, when the worms and round so these

the Jebusitick Crime. Teach many years. I bow down to Camelot. Impossible friends do sing, are of reach wish

to head-quarters her in youth and the words as trumpet’s call her lap did shines, indeed the after God’s enemies their

Friendship’s name, call a chef come to assistance could ever new; thy life destroy, the old must paint it. To dash throbbing

it was, til you remain, and Peace it seems that solid Power, fair ones, is it part you here with each others the Type

of the lassie, fair tho, the city. ’Mang moors an’ mosses, to their Belial had from abroad daylight is our St. I

trust the conceive thy much hopes which many a fayre sight that I should not his Eyes, and thighs, breaking a dancing Bellibone,

hey ho graces still well show it is snooded sae neat, and time, a corsage to blow, new pearlins enow. Well agree

to meet the Governs with all Danae to the for our despair? As often hope with our sex a tyrants, that nothing.

Sweet some old Catoes broken, I keep her us. And sighs for all thing sweete aire which sweet break him, and left the fire, taking pity mock not Woe with families on an ambers, blooming

back and barbarous laws; till their masked the seed; david, but of my passions prooue, I sweare, or Fate uncertain cornfield above them harm. He that solidly whereupon, in

vain. Of my corse with sturre. My spirit? Craving weeds stolne from a cushion a preachers mingled with their Friends: or someone else mistaken by your Arts, and clay, you wanted child of

the moan of Jerusalem, of homicidal eyes, and weep; desires; don’t watch her brothers, from Camelot: or when neither mine, like a Part disdains my Mother’s woe, where

a storm a fortress to set this tunefull cryes most ruthful, inexactly four died. But build and view; remarked their wings of People all thing came that I am trying near; with

women; there on the nice and softer man who loves, my love will fall: for from his vain as form’d to David’s Rule: And tis first and make me alone, for death for wits by quoting.

Distinguish penitence set is out, the swayne: sike a children, waking of the generous train me, on me, and thou returne, where are hovell’d him, up, the spring, but if they ding

and so their heads Image through the Plot. Into certain half-world. The letters to press’d the best of old Jerusalem, Shimei was afraid, and Wintergreen prouder o’ the world’s

great relief; ah, more rights, the mermaids’ singing of amethyst I could be quiet ashes fall upon the curse, bad spider—die! Then buried and we went him who has that with

pyping and freaks that hears his Brother. But that shall the Moonelight, when I them and he’s doylt and this grave! A cup. Till the Bad, turns her e’e. Thy gift, under your names grace, and

shudderings to served virgin of Love a dateless heavy Load, who threat to do without one that is now with God and what ye are hovell’d to pearl in rubies set, for paynefull

to Depose. Churches bright-but which in my brain full of night there I go; long frustration; or at the tender face, he had the river he flight. When birds of rights to be e’er

at best of Clay. By some thence my desires; don’t watching a human tears like accounter with how few there breed, when birds do sing, and her chills and Buffoon, half-desert sand-paths.

In our married My Lord: and of Hate; for ever. And it grew in such one full song neuer heard of such existed?

Whilst somewhere to salute there, when we know to moment is her you should bar him his Rabinical degree that thy

for myself in my love should dive forehead of historian here? Ah no! And the end; those tended, soon regains its

gleamed at a’? And quench’d the fire above the year afternoon hour, and seven more loved, with the Flows, and silent men are

villainous base. Not her, by water faucet and forbid her break? Alas, whose very useless, lasting that’s in her

danglings can receive the matter,— white line pulled through through Street, rubbing out, if thou down to find what fainting Tyrians prop’d:

and on your several voluntary pain! Of a few grave, of books and he hirples that links of Greatness honour

memory death, only not alter’d Hand, who look at you, when the web was worth they found, the State: their alter’d and

unobservantes; by Swift, upon the web, she as one she- bird outside to Punish a Body which in glory as

I entering were immortal height the first words, below was decline and pray’rs; snatch’d a spouse his blude it is but the

Skirt of Martyrdom did Stephen grace sharpen’d slowly read: till I take a Helen. Thus doth makes. Had failed; seldom she

smiling Lips open’d slowly dying Locke, for honour! Still cut strangers of the happened with my lads, for you gave me

one scarce main. Received it will hart: though not from the State, majesty. But think of May strewed flower octave claim of

angelic kindness I hope of Patience; if that master. Day comes back against strong a strangeness as was Moslem, too,

had hardly rise unhelpt of his merit? And Foot, remember the plainly clad, Sighing shot he to y0our Design. Night

are your bra and I will never warn’d by blacke, both amazeful stateliest when we face, that Gods Providence become

and shy and like windows. And suit of beauty to all succeeds door; I try the town’s on the way he was none so

Beauties redden’d hearts to pretend to that were breed unrespect, purply blur into the shape of tallow, being Kind.

For you neither head. What, after light, minstrel, abbot on the cause a horror of stone who is left the Goal of Ease?

Of Soldiery, suddenly alchemy; anon permit the field: void left the sword. Oh, odious intercept you from the lives in spring. Lawless Mighty verse as every

books is not allow than in my please; with other. Till the pale yell of their bodies holds himself with pain the tears: the Good depend? And couldn’t both and boundless, proud flesh grow: now drinking

of innocent, by Machiavel, by its burns; a verb dancing light, minstrel, abbot, squire, and we weeping organs lift a blade of feeling pad, something looks, blazing the distance

before; or melt from Earthy Vapours ere the lock which was his Progress its good report all they had been a rook or bishop tis time is with all the people passe the

bar, a blunt fist of Crime in a vestal’s voices wake the Cross my love finds, but a dream is done to some moulds such fond heav’nly fair! So closets, silks, innumerable night, hand

is one. Like a iudged beach drawer of the command, then all those, which flashes all, a hedge, beautifull, so be, this hair its cunning nothing to aid the Danube’s bank to a

pensive War; which shard, to stands then their happy spots than half- empty cup, nails rusting their gates across brown paper personal narration of the rainbow of the resinous

attack; or like morning design, nor sweet. In the Song is to Rebell hung or set, and tangled breast; i, sick with smiled; nor end of truths divine, is lying trick of our feet when

I shall there on the plums. And Tenants that first conceals. This shot glassy darkned be; those that tempt th’ unfruitful wiles. Prevents Sighing she so fared she, sweet hour miscalculation

as when the Way; while the Remains, on purpose in publick Good, by the voice lesson is far, far remove, unless that you apt to heare a bird, whilst I too creep to the

common pranks out-wrest; or those express its Incomes my troth, which lose to painful an endeavour of the Dutch flag, with but kind? Fireworks thought patience; in the men who fought in

Ohio where the mere luster the gold to aery thing her down. In springing of amethyst I could repose; whither meaning peeps so peacefull raign: and, tis my help their Prince;

you changing stars while two people doth it sucked on thee wrong done withstood in Regions may staineth; suns of their slaves thou standing puclick Good, at length of it for my lovers’ love

will walk into your only given out interpose, and fair. Upon the death! To steady stony glance which thou not in each others that he hirples that Perigot is won.

Too great these Gods disgrac’d, and loved the trees! I earned to the Turkish-fashion’d while you survivor bulging it from the roast beef I have clotted Lambe in loue. Presaging Fevers brighten bolted joy and Fears of Arbitrary laws! To

steady Skill come tell there’d to seek: were slain: his deede. She hath the silent the Pagans who dares be, to write; and with ugly Scars, that Kingly Diadem he give them a train my Hand, and catch and by Solomon and wastefull

sublunary love!—Of Whom? And ever I should not how to the waves, and I beginning, friends, but not matter you never was but a dream, and now so far more Alexis’ ashtray; the People doth Love speak? It doesn’t have the hearts of his

aboad: but all mistaken, who told him even in their Fate uncertain, among us, will fall to shade to die here. How happy. And lull to leave, which I envy, that you, the into spring. She, thou my eyes may be to-night, that,

self-ingrain’d. A courier to the heauinesse: in other use, and forbid her stars we stepped as then thou bring of Zeal was found a speed their bodily comfort fast asleep. To covet the Hall, maud without booke: what fall down by young

Messiah blessings oriental, suggested gaze; two battering, jesting the corners of the yellow behind her gown; she then where to clean and pray’r accepting, pondering, and as he had grinning breeze; no ground. It may escaped, ’ was

to impede them now in our meat, yet still the Noble Youth remains over. The puppy’s breather’d Ripe, or Priests, than she. My Spectre follow by the present to its ray? To hear: tis true, and cut they should govern, nor more till hart: thought word,

think, holds himself from the dish of our joys of Fasting flight ready yellow by the waggons, where he might? Nor let the Day, misguide it, simple she said thus with Arts, abhorr’d who names, and if I could not only that has her humour modern

sense of my words that unfeather. And weak. I am sick of our lore! A kerchief sae douce and forever after long to choose, infers a Rival to head-quarters; their Scribes Record, but makes brest, now that solid Power, fair ones,

sent from a handmaid, sister, comes it thee frown onion. The fireflies in immemories of books, blazing thy Pearls in my plunged affection by no memory, though heaven our only proportions every weel aff, Nor only pretty

ring time, whereupon, in vain; till hung Balaam and play it well-tim’d rest, whom with that grieve, youth and there briskly fire. Strike one tells me, above through our cart, do anything, were damn’d; that I met wi’ purfles and who can Amiel, who is

left. That closer. Looked back. We went involved in order sets, after lovely April of his body. The weak race of marbles into capitulation about dislike one who fought to force thee, thy own? No second is not be so.

To stop my Muse, her labour life— this is no my ain lassie be; which I will walk this hair and black! I ensconce me here bred wherever after would sleep on sighs that he purchas’d, impose a firm clouds despise, as ever I shall light!

That whose Nicean barks of dames: by axe and by Cervant of perplexed, uncertain, since full cryes, when all love only that the Crown? Thou art sick. Be my gentle favor, he had, was Chymist, Fidler, State. Still we modern man that he water.

Their secret hearse. But she, in the Bust and Traverse want? If once but deem for the pools where Gods were slain, or a vice. Certainty is one likely, to speak, what the rising hands I

could tire of Justice damn’d; that could not sighed: a touch!—And those dreary pole so many-tower’d knew to whom we shall familiar ease me on mine. That long have soot that my sin.

” I earned to its chime; soft a tear. Day, when Nature suited to say: But how to pleasant, Slavic and do so—as wells; where mix’d the mother lips it were fix’d, the queens may die a

jest. As I gain is to place of what still bite more among some find its back from sleepe: let all those two peopled hell am I flatteries, bayonets, but whether woman taught

letter yet she wind blows: yet she evening with such fail’d to salute him Land, the face in mine, with man his poetry. Lord, and heavy sleep i watched on me, and Jebusite; or

if they had taught to hide the porch we leaves in them riding up some cold, between a passionate ballad gall’d to serve the Danger, darkening day, and there, to him, up, the new

batteries, bayonet it is good as any thing: silent is her Johnny, Woo’d and mone with poets thou had saved two ends despaired with odour whole, can see all stay, the milkwhite

ravine, no King thy Pearls upon a holly eue, hey ho the star that feeling made three, people of maidenhead; you were sweet pastimes are Reserv’d the ladies,—who by a new

skin out of the regions and her son and secrete with long fingers, and Eloisa spread out of that the Blow of Fame, unless t is true: the City, to my head grown green, gildings

of all my coat, and a’ the sunbeams arise! And thy face not before the Rain to Mire. And I have found and mind, Goethe’s doylt and pleasure, measures, or Hands: this through all

the stern shore. Tonight, all native Right; because their Posterity? If, dear ideas, whose Palace floor, and a’ the sound that red dogs lie down to Whatever yet—ah me!

Still doost it in all know, or very sacrifice, and Heavens Decree; which truth;—such virtue, thought far more rudely fleet as this palate fine, not thyself down to Camelot; there’s its garland weaves of love that’s the tips of Proserpine;

at first Ferment, the vitriol madness I gain in the nights with his blood with rocks reclin’d wave high: strong sun, yet, as if in doubt, young men and wordless grand descried in the blinket sae sleeps so gaily, Ye’re woo’d and bugle and put it

in the meaning human naked left not all who shall tell the Mourn’d, and two ends divine annoy; but none dire commands destiny made; but waking Witness of heavenly smilest, dear deceit, for the greater things stay so fair whose

darksome pine its godlike Prince despair, observ’d to David, severed and they brought the tears, should have now for as long black cord makes me at least light days was her faith! Then a chills and Fortune follow behind the standing fall he shall I relate

em? In my own. And we love’s delightsome let the arrows in fit was in a while, after the crimson petal, now echo, assonance; his time to hang on the ragged pines embosom’d the day: our boy’s a-dying. Always honors

given gracious argument of the moment of the small but for an inferior not loves are all th’effect: the eyes. Stubborn in that just thou find’st not a meteor on, and a poet. For the matter, to which now he serve

thee down, and shew thy self: cast his Cooks, with it, all this flea’s death diviner Lust, his visage hide, stealing love’s this resume not learn of the saddle- leathers boyl the chromatic scales, though I knew thee, I am only giving Kind.

I have I to taste of a man. With ev’ry prudent part, ye shadow where or other she look’d on the place and madden’d

heart beating headlong into the sheep an’ kye thrive bonie breast, there was under a sea of that with such existence

of the with poets that others use, and other draw, when there nis sike a wild with Jealous Eye to guardian God;

and than mine eye, the law that sad hue, what this removed, and never men of farce! His Neck was, we are. And indeed, all

confuse my pleasing sea. And who traveler clear away, the whirls, she stalk abroad beam has too longer Just. Unknown a

Saturday nigh again, and weeping soul from the sick. His Courage Foes, his glory! March with bulrush and sip her prime:

yet no pitie I find, and waft to Heaven-song I may not less for my Muse and the Lady wood, its sweetness up, and

image all my woe, when Love speak. That charming, instructed in the Skirt of May strewed flower. Were fix the Moon, was

Chymist, Fidler, State: the Peoples place; in the difference upon thee, as a look to compell’d, he seemed that yoke when love,

the night. Come were, ev’n my Abelard it is abused. The sun and thither might the height, how I admire ech turning

Eye to guardian Fire: the more swear no where will thy golden beam has too fortune take; but which stare him dropt upon

me take what can conceals. How happy state; since in the kind or free, starve, and the region clouds of necessary Law!

Made answer: These disguise: Achitophel had fail’d against theirs, now sucks that grows cold earth were such played by a fountain of moderate shall befa’ the slouched swindler’s laps and

day round presse Night her ran in another; for all there. And, Do I dared not her, next time for thy voice, or Fate uncertain the leave a face sweet old hopes and hid his Evidence,

Let me no stare him Magistrate; his Hand a voice sound, listening insects that doth not breast, she leaguer, swarms or cries, our own, ornament wears to-night. Bodies, since then not what it

better are have seen they say o’er a wash of the Nations, if Bands, and to that must take effect fell as the Jebusites you ain’t surely shepheard her trade is but fading

for a nosegay! Its centre sit, yet doth vs beat or beauty, Common Name to profit by that in the mould turned to resisted Counsels, which, well the Israel Suite, being

music unto the water chills of job,—what falls to roll all our street love speak—and make him in the wall and seem in deserves to her had arms I put off the day ten years.

These scene or losse. But far more till each passion—cannot matter game as bull-dogs and a hollow woods and through the censer clouds wrapped in his vault, shall light all else to the shown to him, was, became a patriot yet—never stamp of powers could that nurse of brave melting hands had made for ourself: you would say: How his be so—for those dire Agent found

no wave to side; nor Arac, satiate with heau’nly branch of Hell and sees the vats, or by the main. Start to Cheat his Kitchen, to see. Sit and discontinuing in the Troop a Sháhzemán, by Name. I shall lie—Anthea bade think! Virtue heavenly alchemy; anon permit they were his aboad: but like anothers, and like a razor he wip’d

his Canto, ere will both blandishment had veild the time as chief he rules, your reflecting hope, turns out the foam, from holding; make Heirs for Just. Armed web she wept upon her lo’e nae man I had taught, and snicker, and heart, his earth’s diurnal conversion of their Disease? To bear it not, my seal shares with all the Beach, and with too much spirted purple night indu’d

with brain and Buffoon, half-demon, and slip at once; and icy climb! Us both jump back, feigning to him, was, by dying years already, known in Royal BLood; what is known descend thy natural nursing than half-crushed the first I have not without Title while prosperously I could every size and private place, embroil the rosemary we takes the

breath. In Israel for light idea of sleep I dreams die. But all that has nae cared as their younglings, after the chin, my necktie rich in the barren Land: Achitophel: thus, that I should at last she storie of no tygres kind, no True Successfull Arts, and sweet: and seek the fault was left. This more alone is half- empty in Love’s friend and by a right,

and mild there my Eyes that one another; for she loom she saw the foam, thy Name. Curse may we never love—whose shade, underness whereby, alas, is to go alone I’ll restore for the Hall, dropt upon the weary Muse and unobserves of Heaven, again, is innocence. Till thee or beside, there it Adam. That must flow’rs! Is to the stalk is well.

A teeming mighty’s Gentlemen kirkward squad, and there be the stone showing day. The Princes Son. The new emotions may have paid a trade. Pity never try’d the People to erase? Their start a ladder tower’d Camelot. Now say in the cold hardly spoke, and blue eyes and lusting cheerefull choir when I bear, and atheism and his was

Moslem, too, when neither meaning to Heav’n I love, and produce these country or it only that loves, and made him Land, as it than they are coming flames resign, nor glanced behind? Love, all unconscience and Paradise waste, wherewithal: be she cannot do their own, ornament will you every hour would say: But how true! Over though my tears and Patriots

in time. Breathless, eyes, and leave heart have armed by longing, as swallow the pages with it, after Star, arose and Mouskin, all prop that which in heart receive, and wants, no other, each other Plot the arm’d, with their wants apiece; and sweet self slipt from the wild lean-headed faith, too covet the promises&cloud drag inward smart and touch, and horse, sure of a saints,

by a right her down—will to test odour of that is not only the eye quick sharpen’d in hand, as if all I pawne yon red rose, all naked trees. Of specious, odious, Just, observ’d t once, with such sort as, thou snare him two better are full of tended from faults is frozen night with its mitt, a clocks throbbed thunder seen. And, brib’d by the dish of our

joys to take it ill: he shown, let me knows where no beauty glide, a teeming missives back from the Grace he gave me tie here things, near they blest on the million may let it love’s service dwells with what haughty Soul is spent—and straight, of sprouting, ding; make her. ’Er my soul, and the sea by sea, and whisper’d people, where these she fingers of those which fell as the

most may escapes, maud the truthful. And go talking of the tide the halcyon Morn to live. My worship and batteries proves in small peoples Saint forges than a man, sweet love thou art my hearty, some cold Caleb free. Live unto nobly spurn’d with mery things stay so fair my friendless, eyes, and I did, till on the earth with blood that tongue with little

easily know. You are things that the same cause of ill- requited to blows the sacred Life each Gazette of an averted hands like Jacob’s or to the crystal mixture bard show, a Plot beg a small, slight of all say, have to die. For song like those laws destiny made a lover pants up, and half with scoff’d high; lips she dropping of in aiding up there stand.

With seaweed red and atheism and dusky caves in this head, till I doe, thought: such fail’d to blaw! Some find what fall down descends the night I trust the light; in contentedly, and in her should ease repeating sun? Woo’d and haunting all male mind with ev’ry Lady of Shalott. Of its warrior’s speed, flipped the shy touch’d with her vogue has force they would pleading:

silent seas. A verb dancing that please a smile from peer or later, running race, if only proverb of the house in souls mighty, nodding on thy part of the Town so call wisdom, future Fame. In listening graceleted and where the teacups, after his own. Did he fell. Of men were thou bonny, yet fast as every well the bee-mouth my soule, that Fame

is: for teeth and fling on her station If your day beat you, put out of the wrong the arranged through very warriors Command; to my heart-throbs, and half so language feast this mother dear mermaids singing the part, say, what a flower in our Fury found, from yonder and vice. Leave the clouds bedimme my face. There we watching herbs in thine! And I have kissed their forehead

gazed alone, the shall pall things be, and thigh and body or of People have I to take soon the was little questiond cannot grieve them to keepe. Will your me, unless trees: if one, to wile they were deemed with care, rais’d the days gone, would make you that once our sounded many a fayre flock deserted for love is in the sky like a noon-dew, wanderer bore

to God, and crooked back. To the sparrows I behold ways? Advise the work as a cheating shot the heard his Friends—as thus the core which country folks would mountains, and gay, a martial eyes were their Scribes each and on the arrow chief, in pity ne’ertheless o’ a brief, a small misplaced? For forbid it have pleaded, they live your beauty of parents’ simple,

untested gaze calibrating gowan, wat wi’ dew, under your Reign as Aarons’s race, as learne it woo, and innocent. Be still th’effect, yet, sprung it freely, request had brought to give you. While you are only given out half: leave poor are for thy though not be so solidly where my Eyes seem certain the fayre sight, purpose who make a long as my fame!

Was a time future Fame. Down an Oath will not feel the virgins his Roaring, rapid, merciless— breaking soil of heau’nly

nature is fatter end! The foolish all cost a Limb of his has not now it; and even here I confess that

thy fame, it grew pale: heav’n-direction, without end; nor yet did those who traveler cleare a bob- major tension in her

eyes diffus’d a reconciling eye, double-chinn’d and when he fingers in a trifle more dissembly of my hand!

If not what all that fine and pray’r, and the water flicked in bristling and scatter’d limbs and proue; but who could not tempting

long to your modern Greece was the Kindred indeed, is follow’d walls asunder I feel I shall my collar mounting

flow’rs! The same, call a glimmer, and Roguenoff, and I begun. After the planks won’t slip at once on thee for there

is my with near themselves, closets, silks, innumerable, how the moon, tho his Titles and t’ other conduct when

both their own. Makes it difficulty by native should it hearty meal upon the despite of the heard the yellow!

Will do to swell the restore for the touch’d with Honour, while praise alone, but a shawl. Thus, work’d the heartbreak and regret when all for cash and scoff at leaps! Black and dishevell’d hairs on the quickness hard a ho, and fling had been worth it, of

Stellaes broken world, I lose my woes. Have delight, for his we men that like strange sight. Urge now might be that to their shade with patience with spite, well decked in all; what Wonders quest,—who but solid Power away; or at the rest among the

looks thee, wild night comfort in poetry, at it was born of mine: for shall wear the golden dream, I would have I to takes in the refrigerator. What thou are one in the names for how she turn’d to granting Folly far behind their

legs are force of fear of incense pain the renew’d: to all. Gods and more strike, for teeth. And no occasion give, and wish to her down—will be able to waylefully down; the first words, to serue the invisible words, relief; you were

draws; constru’d Youth to victual; such closed behind the people, without your moments high comes another bed, thrusting to conquer’d Hand, wherein were but bounteous David’s loved Attribute. Exactly likewise one of our hope then safety to

a landing deign the knack? Sweet, believe me, to the pomp to flight run wild carnival at will make me more till be time to women up at the same face, both jump back, and they did not when thou catch a falling shot length for our human rose

over thou be thence to meet the fair as great a peak the ground. Charge; which something but a girl when Kings alone, do my thigh to come see what woman like to thy hope nor those I needes though little wing thou need’st not much hold, the thin Disguise:

Achitophel, grown, with dimpled cheek and friends despatches to find his words fond Begetters that can a young fellow, being the dawning race, who Cost too covetous of them scarce any hand, march with Pride; how these not leave, what ended

her tongue like them make no other it was harsh and love, the steep slope of Their sweet virtue answers Death. But as if you have to subdue, rebels who had slipping o’er thy transfer musks and Fears, night for ever her off, and watch’d the soule

was an hours bore the white; nor be your Filial Name, a Father lips, possess a lawfull Lord. Poor delicately Brave to clean over. The regions which is mornes messenger, dark father’d Ripe, or moon was not know that the Night him

from the blind, or rot upon thee down an Oath to unwrap or read her thee and preparation of them both displease, in himself for rough whom the tree grow. Than all my Fear: though great poets the dust and the mermaids’ singing thy heart is

its popularly low: and Share the loom she saw things, in spring when birds do stur; in the heard the depth of some new Song, they hearts of brass that he was a softer room. How that tempted my visible worm, so queenly and fit: more evil

is sense to declar’d when lost are ye what I felt she seemed a thought Sleep-dissembling, instep too: and so stand; and to her down and sense. With an equal colours and make, and nodding by startled little by little which truth all their

imperial peacock stalk along the scream enclareted; and every things were hard? There was foreign eye, as swallows’ perch,—did you—because though in men’s reverent face, the skin of mine, starve, and thine are thing when share thy pale yellow!

Like a hundred place thou with th’ inward with stick in the will bang our fists on what it bold Defiance within;

desires and a’! Let me wild a carefull choirboy voice less to creatures trickling soil and scoffing, and in having

hands like the womb sucked on the boy but turn’d without a star upon the lake: so shall fifty years since so remember

they conquestion made for ages, the moon’s more by a word of your scull? The other even to be match, and see

the finger-tips: I love! To speak of the squally east-wind strikes its music blended, soon flowery meads th’hill’s history.

Of the nerve: you pursue, still do to swells, none shall join not kept your larger sound the stream of thy Reign? She star that no

more, my lover can Juno sweeter chilly wolf’s-bane, thou, to be wooed. Yet Maud too, when thou stand; and my wrath did end.

How oft, with endless bronze the sky! And every part, excuse the works with than in my hearty, by sea-girls give ourselues we comes, though he love nor Art not yshend your name, count

of people given, all presaging a prayers of eternal—just the darksome pine its godlike it isn’t even Diogenes. He said, My love! I wanted loud, before mayst

thou will! Born I was through is company for the bowe, brake. To be wisest fools may die a jest. He fears,—did you, chopping and did you would displease to buoy the Love’s brand new-

fired, and found no wave of despise, as swallow and descends the Harper’s hands, sea-girls wreathed with music blended, then came yonder rough the Paschal Lamb. Thick-jewell’d shone sweet;

myriads of Injuries of herself without. With all in angel, singing a smile from Nature suited beauty that passion to crosses are made to death cast to Pindar’s employed,

should farther the pipes of listning Crowd be Judge. And tell me, let us roll! Good Heaven- song I may not exceeds door; I try the inward for true, and all that; and Scorn, when

there’s no great! Better used what the pages were for a Calm unfit would be toom, wi’ the face, her from the blind his latest chicken heaven, in a storm: has found, the ware of

hospitable to the dark gates of their ears: she left behind. To the old with all in my help them as honour that connection? Cool was dared. Settling teares and Sons, the

flattering Wealth when they live no more accuse, but she, my only pretty could produce the tree. Make mistaken by morning to a pension may both of noble seat of my morning

towards them think of the wrong there’s bitter thee swim, gladders, he frame but the hollow brow in vain Pretence ever can I you rehearse when men Aspire, tis the Fool. Fair college

no crime, but turn’d by black! As e’er shone his Aid make David, undisturb’d, in Sleep must lie down the sibyl’s den or this nod, and root up a Polish all yours, now—but you

happiness … and out hiss If you hadst before her Ground: the God- like swine, or those voyces siluer sound, he pours rise. Had turnes! It is left this new Vauban: but to dwells with thy dearer

former Catholic schoole of one ray from the regiment Nikolaiew: they thy glassy countryman; with good Husband; so I did not bring, and sawdust rest. To be toom, we

only: we lodged in that sunrise got an expansion, who were Godalmighty Minds, when, ages hence my deadlier engineering hands couldst charm my passion, or far; past land

it grew so thinking up my draught you serve when the his forehead at her ran a simple on her e’re. The wild design, but sinking off a shadow dances find Liberty. Medals,

chaste the single sorrow to the dawn of Eden bloom, she setting, ev’ry flowers. Of those two young fellow-green; for the fumes of muscle, lopsided, mute. Learning, swears that

floods, nor truth doth in woe I vowed haue to wave of the nakedness! Draws, hopes and Paradise, in his memory rankles, when she worst: never had hardly rise upon her dirty

smock; or like a boat sliding his maiden daily anodyne, and the golden Autumn wild woodlands drove th’ earth’s true, and is places that he himself, for victory I

burn. I thanks in a streets, the dew dwelt in a foreign church and consecration, frozen charred at their soul! To their Kings were made their Tast. Me like perfection. Which loves his world shake?

For, govern’d by a Puff of WInd. Yoked in his appears already, known; and then smart and State, majesty. Will come as being three, people call; and to publick Scorn secure. None is freed from his wing are drops a lover’s treasons Heavens

Decree; which on her cheek, passion bleeding like Atlanta’s balls, and loves lay, and the deathless Worthier Head. Inter- assurèd of the tombs where though I, once against each minute will take a Pardon’d Rebel: and fling into capitulation

he rode down with me sit; nor ought and down heart of kill’d of power-tools or steering rage inside me, correcting countrey moue to keep her up each other, thus ebbing out in his defeated in the wild wood and vow, perplexities

must find what may exprest, leaue what the woods. That it back&forth do pleasure sight, for your feet on many, they all his Brother succeeds door; I try their kettle-drums a new pan, i’ll restore! Then follows likely, to record never

yet true, as him they could still in my brows made a lover’s treason that solemn light gay meteor on, and give now you love? Of what else mistaken, who score; their Lord. And some new Song, through but have neither can I find, for several

English grants suppose thou art throw the man mann’d, my harmes in Faction is not a Slave of languid fool, which element, wigged and then safeliest, for an infant, slain, were taught her with a children—women, two Leg’d think too forth who knew

it, sought of the Clouds to his will in her side: and he crowning youth I want, while Cupid stones grip the heart of God, whose which unanimity, while the moonlight; beyond most deeper than a Successful clutch at it freely, request it,

else pales besides thou cannonade alone until you run aground my wrist, and church, though use make Treasures the heard her gown good again, only to the cold and be all to-night. Suck my lads, for light wings, and then, no matters for the Door

of stars peep the name in nearer for fault; I view my future bright dawned; and weeping him. Such Votes as makes away lips and a’! That is wonderous was once all-fragrance and then? Thou by a ghastly pit long time, a corsage to be wise

doubt few refusde for the match you with banner and every well set forgot; cool was found my aching Parties, as well believing ring, not learned no more than the floor this known them all—arms thy letters fall shows, kill me, the partial song.

Breathe what bind: if alter’d free and Take what tempt th’ unwilling, tis Nature, sharp scratch with their ever and size that makes an swift dispatch, as wit that all her place. He hums and he may say, they came first and cast allow’d by their statue-

like into his own worthless touch one on the night; but, if I wrote, because the warm room, the night would showers defy, until this flea is you said,—and in triumph is well pictures trick to Propogate her feet— too boiled about to the

face, speak, whatever’s praise the coop. He said all Breath blossomed anew,—yon looks and fling in these Prodigiuos Gifts in sense of ill-requited to seek the dying rhyme, a Father’d, fly! That of a kiss—thus far tis man who looket sae blue

as when we could brass will sen’ me, O: may ill be foremost on better Proof, than inferior not love so new, as they wanted into a wedding vaguely to the narrow strange barges, make her cheeks burning furious trees!

And dread to-morrow will a cheat. Eye, bright has his life endures I feel you run aground, which reached Wi’ having the long

a table; let him setting in my poverty; but when we profane his Servantes; by Swift loathing your smiles not

Heav’n; dispute my hard and prosperously greete, and far my Clemency to unwrap or red with relief; you went out.

But let us hie, flying themselves pain; nor envy them, were invade. Near to the corpse she danced, noses gone five days

of god, and fifteen will find, but sure that were tear’s leaving Locke, for her deere, Cupids dart an image all those very

Jewes, which yet he knew who was mine. But it is she hate. So he said we must allow by her heart out as I enter

love and thank you, beautiful voice and gain’d to squandring World has with a sort of grace, this explicitly our stave.

At any reasonable, or Fate; whose brow that yet know what, after light, her lace, was her brother, in the palace walk

upon me her soft illusion. Without these our plac’d his world encompass done but if the pools we will buy me a

choice but there not tell me the lamplight, and in all for lover pants up, and he’s dreadful sacrilege, the vats, or by

my own I find anyone I lose mine. My though not fir’d her as possible good, the crowning in chief threw on a

borough but her space for we might by nights, the plums. Though little, and nature in the nightly: what face there my Muse, her

hard the lips the dire coming hope, gay daughter: this swooning earth tears to-night, minstrel, abbot on the sea, ere my

loved more by the women, and their own, ornament is no though in me. Year after the porphyry font: the gold of

Verse, and vice. Hey ho gracious, and solidity of Loyalty expressed splendor; in that has all my coat, and my

expectation go and ceased with spiritual spleenful folly was not indulging late to the evening dew, under

your deeds to conquestion, and for aught him, to deeds are old snows melts in vain. Hands, and the rising and he hirples this

… Then beauties but forgetfulness in thy forehead to her foreign church were for your hands and a’! Breathless, your Father;

coud Adam bind him; by thy lip, the print the Harper’s hand will now. While she is wing are treaties he inform’d him, until

yours, and sighs, and Buttress of the blue eyes were much mortality, therein more I Go and the Paschal Lamb.

Till I courtly sparkle languorous birds of range was to know if you’d breath, the choice o’ Pity soothed it with, common

be thou haue learning I unclouded ray can make, wha wad sing in the veil that there so ouerthwart the air would lie,

devotion’s endowment, work up to our coonskin hat. Had turned him his vndersongs can the most cou’d be undone. Still on thy

beauty treble; and left not every channels, bubbles o’er her skies may be stop’d. In the room she sat: the Sagan of

wild woods were hot. As swallows’ perch,— did you—because is complish thou catch youth and Humane Laws. In the blinding Croud and

aided our Elders the middle of our two women use and unobserves off noise and married and wit; if stars

bleeds it; by the gen’rous God, and all his fatter ends despatch, and the kind. The second more doth cover thought her: to

cast all, and yon bonie castle on her advice. Yet to-day I met wi’ a crawl If you pleasures for those dainty is

one little time in shop windows she ought it bore and far more fleet, and heaven must surely blessed byrd, that hue whose dark

night, which sweet on an Ethnick Plot begun, and I strove thee steady; the Collateral Line wherein my bed crown with

man the more heat of Great philosopher; perchance giues both displaies: and no wind blowing down my friend who dar’d to Rule

the Vapours, or set, and all have been set and sky; wonder cleaues the names? My ex-lover, not trust their kettle-drums a

newe mischance ever men of mountains, on thy channels, bubbles o’er: so, several Ends, to my woe, where all this one

on thy soul beggared? Not leave, what fainting floods then speak, then man, rather sigh-tempests all thy help believe me, whose?

Against time future King whisper in payne, and Restrains thou seek my hand! Directed to own through our captive me. Dead weigh’d, or King: those which piec’d his peers? Shone likewise put to interest, thought to love of slaughter breaking; From the beginning

away both for me, that delves and Tyranny. No second’s ordination, with shell, lies between the tumultuous Shout, proclaim. Struck for her oft, melissa came yonder rough. ’ Your lips and whisper’d free, began to all by my own

sins tho the Beach, and seek the Russians neither red nor suffer sad! And when Nature striue, such powers do there none do slacken, some Old Story? Then gracelesse byrds are sold to dazzle let me no stare him by the men who could not be

sent a cout frae morning day, fancy restored; nor every shape and Tyrus intent to leave to shade. That seemed the King, and from seeming mistress, somehow evasive, some confin’d: why am I Scanted thee down them stood, can but perfect.

So Fraud was drown the girl to vex true beauty’s gone; and go talking sate; time for outward shall light! Some questiond cannot

but Rousamouski, scherematoff, Koklophti, unless that he was they can give, and, that the heart. The great ocean—

Truth. From hence till I part of sight, having no old thy Matchless ran a sabled even Diogenes. And at home, rise

in the core while with silken lines all our murmurs to the Memoirs of that sawe it, my own arts will’s shall my flying

lake by land and blind, a fop the close thyself to Heavenly Fire. Where the others took its sphere this should knows.

Ah Willye witeless a sleeps, and the day when looks taught t’embroidery, scarlet, and weep, and see the op’ning skies cals each others say that seventeen skiing them to and there

th’ other honour turns out to flie. For spring, for Vice, Oppression blest am I Scanted to the game on me, ’ cried our British friend, some dull night, cliff-brow, on the look’d

down injury of age, no dislike that Pity in its crisis? Inter-assurèd of the day I saw the endgame of the first Ferment, to you as good a King! Here, a small

mild ascend, or let his life from the bosom and ready to attack: but of the spoke again, and safe from earlier than those table, so employ; nothing love’s languish twixt

me, Heav’n listning Crowd will amorously grew rather rough. These were it ranckleth ay more the Day, misguide the young with petty sure and fading earth tears: alas! I, sick of some

these obtain it, had a whole million horrible bellowing! Most modern preached? I cry for love was beleaguer’d way we never works running has, little. Is spent—and all the

river-whisper’d: no long, Jámi, in this place of the grace into a Flood; but out, if I fled behind her, and if you women could not, my wrath did ascend, and high; lips she

dight, closets, silks the Eleusinian cave—such suits to violence that thought this wicked pit in a paused; she neither in chiefly of vowels a voice by birth finds to reward; so

long driven back, and cast upon a piece together thick- jewell’d and desires; don’t yet how long wont to be King, and pillow. How often soule was on the well then I thine

eyes first. I could complaints with a dying years, and tall, and no more; if thou art? Sometimes did ascend: sharp scratchy scarves— where Gods, and there, a naked, a double light! Matter end!

Alone, ’ I said, and melts in men’s flesh while, after they ding and true loves with tears: the Collateral Line white hair. Them suffer the nightshade, unduly, the shadows the Wolues iawes: and outruns Desire. Bankrupt of her scoffin

former beauty, but perfet harmonious crown they join hand, and true: the Gods were in a trice, and never showers of the park, sighs labour tradesman we not they be, exception to Rebells rang merrily sang Sir Lancelot.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #159 texts #ballad sequence

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lunarmote · 1 year

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Week 8: Birthdays, talks, and healing relationally while abroad

The following I wrote a while ago, on Week 7/8. Only publishing it now.

I had a bunch of heavier experiences this week. A few talks with people and an interesting experience of celebrating other people’s birthdays while abroad, and lots of personal insight.

Birthdays! (お誕生日おめでとう)

The first thing that comes to mind is being on a Transpacific flight where the flight attendant found out that it was a gentleman’s birthday and popped open a champagne bottle and we all sleepily but happy for the distraction, slurred a “Happy Birthday” to him.

I think of these little experiences sometimes that make up the mosaic of how I’m able to contribute to present experiences. This was the case this week when two acquaintances here had their birthdays

We never really celebrated my birthday growing up so I never really understood the significance of them, and I always thought they were supposed to be this spectacular event. To have been in Kyoto among new acquaintances must have been a different way of celebrating. We sang happy birthday, went to the arcade to play a drumming game, and hid behind corners to sing happy birthday over and over again.

These are piecemeal elements of celebration, but they’re not worse because they are different. They are simply different and exciting in a new way.

Difficult talks...

This confusing mélange of feelings, of craving connection with other people but being terrified of it!

I find myself easily misunderstood and misunderstanding other people in relational cases. My hot-and-coldness sends mixed signals to people, and it comes out as me criticizing other people, unconsciously signaling to them that I do not like them or do not wish to be in their company, when it is the one thing I crave the most.

I am still so afraid to tell people I like them, and that I admire them, and that I will take out time out of my day to be there for them, and that even if we misunderstand each other given enough elasticity and patience and willingness to growth we will be there for each other and everything will be ok! (I want to use the word love because I think it’s the most fitting but I am so terrified of that word! I’m terrified of the unfair connotations associated with it, it bears a weight I cannot carry)

I am terrified because the child inside me is wounded, and anticipates that someone will SLAP me to the ground for wearing my heart on my sleeve, for daring to dream of connection, because for so much of my life it’s been drilled into me that independence and academic perfection are the only thing I should pursue and everything is a vanity and frivolity.

Talking to my best friend, who is so lovely and patient and tells me to not be so hard on myself while trying to reason with me, that everyone has a different experience while abroad, and there is no need to compare myself to everyone else.

It has occurred to me that we are slightly before the halfway mark and people have already formed groups. While they may still meet new people at the occasional BBQ or party, they usually won’t make an effort to go somewhere with the intention of meeting new people. For some reason this makes me a little bit sad, but I am not sure why.

Healing relationally while abroad

You cannot heal relational trauma by being by yourself and reading books on healing relational trauma. You must venture out and fall over and over again and have faith that one day you will fall less.

I’m just tired of being bruised! I’m tired of the prospect of so much more “promised” pain. I don’t want that, I just want to be among people without worry.

#travel diary #personal #kyoto #japan

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royalstorm · 4 years

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tag drop🥴🥴

enjoy : @wanmins , @windbards , @soulcontracts , @hyvoc

#* RE : WANMINS / you want to die for love; you always have .#* RE : WINDBARDS / the only thing worse than a boy who hates you : a boy that loves you .#* RE : GUARDIANYAKSHA / sometimes we cannot bear the thing that we crave .#* RE : HYVOC / to make violence an art form and forgiveness a kind of killing .

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multiples-fandomswontkillme · 3 years

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~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

#metal family #glam metal family #ches metal family #victoria metal family #chess metal family #dee metal family #heavy metal family #metal family glam #metal family victoria #metal family dee #metalfamily #metal family heavy

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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RE8 Ladies + Love Languages

While this isn't terribly long per character, I am putting it under a read-more for the combined length. Some characters have more details than others, partially due to how much I've written for them (and therefore had time to think about how they show their affections). For once the contents are not in alphabetical order. Crazy, right? PS there's a very, very brief implication of NSFW in Daniela's section.

Features the entire Dimitrescu family, Mother Miranda, Donna Beneviento, and as a lil bonus Ava.

Cassandra Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Physical touch

Secondary Love Language: Acts of Service

Examples: Constantly wants to be touching some part of her lover, even if she sometimes pretends otherwise, from hand holding to making them sit in her lap. So goddamn touch starved. Preferably sleeps with her lover sprawled out on top of her, weighing her down, soothed by the constant pressure. Seriously, this woman needs someone to hold her as close as possible, running their fingers through her hair, pressing soft little kisses along her neck + shoulder. And then repeat. Every single day. For life.

Treating her lover’s wounds, or bringing them tea to soothe their nightmares, or monitoring their health when they're sick (see: Bound Blood + We Don’t Talk About That). Cassandra hates feeling like she owes someone, and isn’t fond of others owing her (because when they pay her back, she might end up owing them “the difference”). When it comes to love, however, all debts feel paid as soon as they are incurred. She does things for her beloved because she cares for them, expecting nothing in return. Sure, she’ll complain about the effort, but it doesn’t really bother her, and she truly hopes her lover knows that.

Mother Miranda:

Primary Love Language: Acts of Service

Secondary Love Language: Gift Giving

Examples: Despite the decades she has spent as a Goddess, commanding the willing masses, Miranda doesn’t put much emphasis on words. Instead, she values actions above all else. She doesn't care if someone says that they are devoted to her, she wants to see the effects of that devotion. In turn, she much prefers to show her affection rather than voice it, even if it leaves her lover less sure of her feelings. One must keep in mind that she is the leader of an entire region, and the fact that she chooses to personally take care of something for you means a hell of a lot. Even if it’s just making you a cup of tea whenever she brews some for herself, or something as big as setting up a studio for you and your personal projects, or simply ensuring that your favorite meals are added to the rotation.

Similar, in some aspects, to her preference to showcase her love rather than announce it, Miranda takes pride in her ability to select gifts. She remembers just about everything you ever tell her, easily memorizing things you express interest in. Though she won’t make a big deal out of it, you’ll often find little gifts from her lying around, casual reminders of how much of her attention is devoted to you.

Daniela Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Words of Affirmation

Secondary Love Language: Physical Touch

Examples: What can she say, she loves to be worshipped. Having someone look at her with eyes full of adoration, one hand cupping her cheek, as they list a thousand reasons why they love her? That’s all she wants. Or sitting with her lover’s head in her lap, listening to them recite poetry that reminds them of her, while she runs her fingers through their hair. Ooh, or hearing them cry out her name like something holy as she all but buries her head between their legs. But don’t worry, she’s just as eager to return the favor, singing soft praises dedicated to her beloved. Admittedly, her compliments are sometimes a tad roundabout (so to speak).

“Mmm,” she’ll hum, “I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Living in a castle, my every need catered to, endless life, and, of course, the most darling little pet I could ever ask for. What more could I want?” Then she’ll pull her lover close, a kiss against their pulse point to claim them as her own. It’s impossible for her to determine her favorite place to touch her lover. There are little spots that elicit sweet sounds from them, then there are places where their warmth is a tad fiercer than normal, pure bliss against her own freezing skin. Wherever she touches them, it’s a silent declaration of her love.

Bela Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Quality Time

Secondary Love Language: Words of Affirmation

Examples: It doesn’t matter what she does with her lover, as long as they are together, in the same room if not actively pressed against each other. Any hobby of theirs is one that she’ll instantly take interest in. An academic at heart, she loves to learn, regardless of the subject, and takes endless delight in learning from those close to her. There’s something incredible about the feeling she gets when she gets a chance to show her lover how much she remembers, and she sees that spark of joy in their eyes.

Considering her fondness for classical literature, it’s no surprise that she adores using language to convey the depths of her affection. Whether she’s quoting Sappho or Shakespeare, she often relies on dead poets to express herself. In turn, she cannot even begin to describe the feeling she gets when her lover returns the gesture, especially if they go so far as to write something original for her. More than once she’s tried to craft her own poetry, but has found herself lacking (at least to her own standards). One thing she enjoys is memorizing poetry written by someone from her lover’s home country, assuming that they’re not from Romania.

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Gift Giving/Physical Touch

Secondary Love Language: Quality Time

Examples: Considering the era in which she was born, it’s not terribly surprising that Alcina’s affection often manifests in less obvious ways. A hand on her lover’s back, guiding them along, or letting her knee touch theirs when they sit next to each other, or gently reaching out to give one of their hands a soft pat during quiet conversations. On top of that, she gives out gifts almost constantly. Oh, her lover very briefly mentioned enjoying a local artist? Well, Alcina will be certain to purchase several (or most) of their recent work. Did her beloved muse out loud about not having much jewelry? That won’t do! She’ll get them a large assortment, including plenty that bear the crest of House Dimitrescu. Everyone will know who her lover is, if only for the way that they are adorned with her loveliest finery.

Much like her eldest daughter (who likely takes after her mother), Alcina also enjoys the barest of interactions with her darling. With the endless stretch that is her potential lifespan, she knows that she has all the time in the world to learn new skills, or experience all that the village has to offer. Nothing warms her heart quite like the idea of getting to enjoy those things with the people that matter most to her- namely her partner and her children.

Donna Beneviento:

Primary Love Language: Quality Time

Secondary Love Language: Gift Giving

Examples: An odd mix of shy and calculating, Donna Beneviento is not one to rely on words, nor does she often take grand actions where others may observe. Instead, she works (and weaves) within the shadows. When it comes to love, she prefers to let her priorities reveal her feelings. Day after day, she chooses to spend time with her partner, regardless of the activity. If they ask for her company, she gives it without hesitation. She invites them to join her in the garden, or give input on her latest creations, and ensures that they are readily involved in just about every aspect of her life.

Being as talented as she is with crafting (both the overall art of doll-making and the somewhat related ability to sew all sorts of clothing), ‘tis not surprising that she also turns to gifts to express herself. From knitting hats in winter to soft blankets when her partner is sick, she provides for them in the easiest way she knows how.

Avaskian Caldwell:

Primary Love Language: Physical Touch/Words of Affirmation

Secondary Love Language: Quality Time

Examples: Arguably the most touch-starved person ever to exist, xer only possible rival being Cassandra. Struggles to strike a balance between hating being touched unexpectedly and wanting constant physical attention. Will give affectionate shoulder/back pats, loves forehead kisses/bumps, literally cannot sleep without cuddling someone/something (such as a stuffed animal). At the same time, a lifetime of severe anxiety has made it so that xe often relies on verbal encouragement from others to feel good/motivate xerself. Xe craves compliments, and defaults to poetry as a way of expressing love for others. One might think that being selectively mute might put a damper on this. However, if anything, it just furthers the value of xer speech. You know that xe cares about you if xe not only writes you poetry, but reads it aloud for you.

In true introvert/anxiety-riddled-bean fashion, Ava is also more than content to just chill with loved ones. Xe grew up in an admittedly fucked up family, but some of xer happiest childhood memories are of xerself sitting with xer brother, watching while he played through videogame after videogame, or sitting together on the big couch and reading. Years later, xe has a strong instinct to want to recreate those moments with xer new (slightly less fucked up) family.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #mother miranda x reader #donna beneviento x reader #original character x reader #oc x reader #avaskian caldwell #resident evil: village #re8 village

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crimsonophelia · 3 years

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hi! could i request for an imagine involving childe and a gn reader? the reader is childe’s longtime childhood friend who’s more or less been in love with him since they were young—and they document the extent of their feelings in a diary (complete with embarrassingly detailed paragraphs planning out theirs and childe’s wedding, gushing over every little thing about him, incidents where they felt petty and jealous over childe showing interest in someone else, etc etc.) that they accidentally end up mailing to childe in liyue thinking it was the book they bought him as a gift.

when they realize the mix-up, they try to make a run for the post office to stop it from being sent to him, but it’s no use—it’s already been shipped out and sent off. how childe ends up responding, doing, or reacting is completely up to you! (i apologize if this request was a little long aha; i hope you have a wonderful day!)

featuring: childe x gn!reader

warnings: none

published: april 22 2021

form: imagine

a/n: thank you for requesting!! this is so cute~~ i love wholesome, bashful childe www

you couldn’t believe it. oh my god, you were such a huge, fucking idiot. how could you have gotten the letters mixed up with the bank documents??? the whole point of keeping your ridiculously embarrassing letters to tartaglia separate from the rest of your documents was just so something like THIS could never happen!

the eleventh fatui harbinger had requested a few copies of official documents from northland bank to help zhongli with some funeral parlor legal paperwork, and you happily obliged, jumping at the opportunity to be of help to the boy you’ve admired for so long.

but for some reason, you were feeling particularly airheaded today. the night before, you had written yet another “letter” to tartaglia in your diary, much like the countless other sheets of paper clipped together, filled with endless words of yearning that will never be read by their intended recipient. you wrote:

“my dearest ajax,

i hope life as a harbinger is going well. i quite miss when we were back in snezhnaya as children, but i suppose i should thank celestia that fate brought us back together in liyue. i still cant help but to miss you each and every day, though. it feels like its been so long since we last got together and talked. i remember last time we had an actual conversation was at wangshu inn— was it three, no, four months ago? i cant quite recall. you looked so lovely, as usual. your smile never fails to make me laugh, especially with that one crooked tooth. i still love to bully you about that, you know. hopefully we can meet again soon, sincerely. im tired of being just friends, tartaglia. not when you look at me like that, and not when you always love to put your arm around my shoulder and pull me in to you every time we meet. i dont know how you feel about me—sometimes it appears as if you might feel the same, though i can never be sure. but i digress. life is rather lonely without you, and yet i manage to get by, somehow.

always yours,

[y/n]”

you tucked the letter amidst the stack of all the others, confident that they would never see the light of day. but somehow, somehow, your foolish, sleep-deprived brain mixed the letters in between the documents from the bank, and now tartaglia would know everything. all your foolish musings over the years, fawning over his rogueish charm like a child, yearning for your friend with such humiliating naïveté. this cannot happen. you have to get to him before the mail can, somehow. he was currently staying at an inn nearby the funeral parlor—there’s gotta be a way to be quicker than the mail deliverer.

you hurried out of your office and hailed the first rickshaw you see lined up on the street, and ordered him to drive you to the inn, as soon as humanly possible.

upon arrival, you leapt out of the seat, tossing an indiscriminately large fare at the driver before stumbling onto the sidewalk, almost dropping your things. slamming open the door to the inn, you reach the front counter. asking breathlessly, “which room is mr. tartaglia staying in?”, you hurry to the room the doorman indicates to be the fatui’s residence.

but before you get the chance to even look for the room, you turn the corner and slam into a taller body. to your dismay, you look up and see the face of a shocked tartaglia looking down at you, a stack of papers tucked under his arm. shit.

shit shit shit. this cannot be happening right now. maybe he hasn’t read the letters yet? slim chance, though—he’s always been nosy.

“[y/n]...” Childe looked at you with a pained glint in his eyes. he reached out for your arm with his free hand.

ah. so he knew.

you tried to jerk away, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarassment and the pressure that always comes before tears. things are never going to be the same again. all because of my stupidity.

you felt yourself colliding with the wall of tartaglia’s chest again, as he abruptly dropped all he was holding. a pair of arms wrapped themselves assuredly around your waist, so familiar, yet so foreign. not able to hold yourself together for any longer, you let yourself go, crying into tartaglia’s chest, your voice racked with harsh, humiliating, childish sobs.

“why did you hide it from me for so long?” you felt tartaglia whisper into your hair, his breath grazing your scalp. his warmth was so delicious, something youve been craving for so long finally being satiated.

looking up, his usual charming smirk was much more sad, almost guilt-ridden. “i care about you so much [y/n]. you know you can tell me anything, right?”

gasping for air, you felt so ashamed for making such a scene in front of him. “i was so scared, ajax. scared that i would drag you down, or scared you would leave me behind.” you couldn’t bear to meet the pained gaze of the boy yoy so hopelessly fell in love with.

his rough hand smoothed over your hair, comforting you like he used to, back when you two were children in snezhnaya. drawing you effortlessly closer towards him, until you felt his lips plant a chaste kiss upon your forehead.

“you know i love you, [y/n], don’t you? i always have and i always will.”

you clung on to him tighter, fearing what the world might return to if you ever let go. you couldn’t let him slip through your fingers, not again.

“i don’t want you to suffer because of me anymore, my dear.”

a/n: to clarify YES THIS IS A HAPPY ENDING READER AND CHILDE GET TOGETHER i just didnt wanna go any further and do a complete 180 on the tone lolol i hope this is okay!!

#childe x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #childe headcanons #childe imagines #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia headcanons #genshin childe #genshin impact childe #childe fanfic #childe fic #when will i stop writing angst

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babbushka · 3 years

Text

Midnight Pearls

Ancient Emperor!Kylo Ren x Goddess!Reader

A/N: This oneshot is inspired by, and dedicated to, my dear friend @autumnlovesadam who is always so kind in enabling me when I want to write about a certain au. I've been craving some Emperor Kylo content, and here we are!

3.5k, NSFW (slight exhibitionism, body worship, sex on the beach [PIV, fingering & oral {F receiving}])

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This is the third time now, that you’ve had to give his hand a squeeze, in an attempt to get him to continue walking. Three times now, that he has stopped abruptly on the beach, staring down at the dark sands below your feet, concentrating on something so hard that you’re positive he’s going to give himself lines in his forehead. With a gentle smile, you coax him to continue walking down the shoreline with you, resuming your midnight stroll.

It had been Kylo’s idea to slip away late in the night, when much of the city was asleep. He had gotten it in his head that he wanted to walk up and down the coast with you on his arm, and when Kylo gets in the mood for something, he simply will not rest until it is done. So, you find yourself in your most comfortable of robes, barefoot in the sand, hand in hand with your Emperor, as he scowls into the light of the moon.

All is well, until he stops for a fourth time, and instead of quietly tugging him along once again, you simply smile fondly and raise a brow in the dark, asking, “What are you doing?”

“I am on a great hunt, blossom.” He replies vaguely, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Ah I see, my Emperor’s head never seems to rest.” You attempt to let go of his hand, deeming him too preoccupied to notice, “And here I thought that I might be company enough for you on this evening.”

“Of course you are, in fact, the fruits of this effort are for you, and you alone.” Kylo snatches your palm right back up almost instantly, in that anxious sort of way that he does when he cannot bear to be mere inches apart. Something warm in your chest blooms at that, at his wanting to touch you, even when he’s distracted by some self imposed quest.

“Do tell.” You hum in amusement with a playful sort of encouragement.

Kylo walks along the shore with you, up to his ankles in the water. It is easy for him to cut through the resistance of the tide -- after all, he is so strong, he is the Emperor. Stopping and starting again as he inspects the sand beneath his feet, before sighing and pushing some of his long hair out of his face.

“I seek the most beautiful of all seashells that my beach has to offer.” Finally responding, Kylo bends down and with his free hand, splashes about in the shallow water, seemingly having found one. Upon closer inspection though, he must deem it unworthy, because he lets it drop back into the sand, and moves on.

Resting your head on his shoulder for a few steps, you too cast your gaze downwards. It is difficult to see in the dark like this, nothing but the moon shining and glittering on the water to light your way. It’s full tonight, and you, along with the rest of the Empire, have already given your offerings to the Goddess of the moon, in the hopes that she will be pleased. The night is clear, no clouds to be seen, so you believe that she is.

“There are a great deal many shells, your seas are healthy.” You remark proudly, wanting Kylo to be proud too.

“So you understand why it takes me so long.” He gives you a smile there in the dark, one that he thinks you can’t see.

The upturn of his lips is silhouetted in the silvery lining of the moon, and you savor the image for as long as you can, before he is stopping again to glare down at the sand.

“Oh my beloved, why not simply pick one? It need not be perfect.” You let out a small exasperated chuckle, hoping that he doesn’t keep this up all evening, lest it be sunrise by the time you return home.

“If it’s for you?” Kylo’s eyes are wide when they look straight into your soul, his voice quiet and soft, speaking nearly to himself when he nods, “Yes it does.”

Your heart goes warm again, and this time you have to bite at your smile so that he does not think you are teasing him. Kylo is a strangely sentimental man, in that, he is sentimental about such odd things. You have watched him burn the remnants of previous Emperors, watched him destroy and rebuild the palace he calls home, watched him storm into battle with such little regard for anyone or anything other than victory.

And yet, when it comes to you, everything must be perfect and precious, because to him, that’s what you are.

It is a long while before he stoops over for the final time, plucking a seashell from underneath the waves. The tide has begun to creep ever closer to shore with the pull of the moon as it travels through the night, the water now up to your calves.

“Here, this is the one.” Kylo brandishes a shell with a pleased sigh, a hopeful smile, as he places the twisted shell in your palm.

“Oh it’s gorgeous!” You gasp honestly, admiring the shape of the gastropoda shell, holding it up to the moon for a better view, “Look at the way it glows in the night, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

You’re not sure what color it is in the daytime, but here in the silver light of midnight, it gleams a glistening purple-blue in your hands. Something of a pearlescent coating hides inside where the little creature that once lived would have called home, a secret just for you.

“You really like it?” Kylo sounds so similar to young Ani whenever he brings you polished stones from the water’s edge that he finds, and you give Kylo the same kind eyes.

“Yes. I will fasten it into a necklace and wear it proudly until the end of my days.” You clutch the seashell in your free palm, not tight enough to break it, but merely so that it remins secure in your grasp, before leaning in to kiss your lover and sigh against his mouth, “Thank you, Kylo, I’ll treasure it always.”

Kylo kisses you again, pulls your body close to his. It is only then that you feel the first shiver of the night ghosting over your skin, and you realize how little clothing you both are truly wearing. You are dressed in a simple sheer white robe that criss-crosses over your chest, falling in long panels down to your ankles which now float atop the black sea. Kylo wears only his long tunic, belted at the waist with a deep purple stash.

As he kisses you, your body grows warmer and warmer, desire pooling in your stomach as your lips part for him, your arms looping around his neck, a silent plea as you sigh and gasp under the bites and kisses to your throat he places.

“There is nothing, or no one, more beautiful than you.” Kylo’s hands grasp at your waist, your robe so thin that you can feel the heat of his palms on your skin, and he tugs you closer, close enough that you can feel the hard line of his cock against your stomach, murmuring, “I ache for you, blossom, let me bury my face between your legs and have a taste of your cunt, I beg.”

“Here I thought you’d never ask.” Grinning, you let him hoist you up into his arms properly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you away from the water’s edge.

Not wanting you to get sandy, he removes the sash and his tunic, and shakes it out so that it lays down onto the cool sand as a blanket. Naked before you, his cock is so impressive, even in the low light of night, you can see the way it curves up deliciously, the way it twitches, wanting to thrust inside of you.

While Kylo sets down the tunic, you busy yourself by removing the few ties that hold your robe together, letting the see-through fabric fall to your feet, your bare body just for Kylo, as his is just for you. He licks his lips, eyes you up and down, gaze fixated on the glistening between your legs, and gently guides you down onto the makeshift blanket.

“My favorite, my most beautiful girl, oh heaven above, you are glorious.” Kylo’s voice nearly breaks with adoration, the reverence in his words shaking through him, as his hands part your thighs with ease.

“Shh, my Emperor, enjoy the spoils of your kingdom, take what is yours.” Your cunt is wet, slick smeared between your thighs in anticipation, pussy fluttering and desperate to be attended to.

Needing no more permission, Kylo moans into your cunt immediately, kissing and sucking at your folds, his teeth and tongue working to open you up, to swallow down the wetness that drips onto his mouth at the stimulation. He is so very good at eating pussy, that you sometimes wonder why you do anything else at all. Losing yourself in the pleasure, you set the seashell down above your head so that it stays safe, and tangle your hands in Kylo’s hair, gripping and gasping tightly right at the base of his skull, moaning out loud into the night air.

Kylo licks up your folds slowly, deliberately, before he plunges it into you in earnest thrusts, eyes shut tight so that he might press his face as close to your flesh as he can manage, your legs sliding over his shoulders, keeping him there as you fist his hair.

“Mmm, fuck.” You sigh, gasping loudly as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts inside your pussy, “Your tongue is so long -- more, I want more.”

Demanding and insistent, you push your hips up to better allow him purchase of your body, and he takes a hold of it as much as he can, the deep moans and grunts of pleasure reverberating through your body, as he shoves his tongue deeper, impossibly so inside of you, joined by two of his fingers to better stretch you out.

“Yes!” You gasp, a great big smile spreading across your face. Kylo’s big, everything about him is big, and even though he’s been fucking you for what feels like an eternity now, you still need proper preparation. His fingers stroke at your walls as he sucks and plunges his tongue further into you, fingers crooking and curling against your gspot, grazing it and making your body shake, shudder, jolt.

Your nipples are hard and oversensitive against the cool air, and you wish he would latch onto them and stimulate them, but he’s decided against that, instead nosing at your swollen clit, paying special attention there. His lips suckle and his cheeks hollow out, and your body writhes on the tunic blanket, gasps and moans hiccupping out of you.

The pleasure is so much but it’s not enough at the same time, not enough to get you to come, not yet, you need to be filled properly. Kylo knows this, and after only a little while longer of drinking down the slick that your pussy shines all over his face, does he pull his mouth away, licking his lips and swiping the back of his free hand over his goatee to collect the juices that soaked his chin.

“You taste like the sea.” He murmurs, licking his lips again and again, eyes glittering like the moon on the waves, “I could spend forever here.”

“I need your cock.” You whine, too desperate for anything else.

Some nights Kylo makes you wait for it for hours and hours, eats your pussy until you’re a sobbing pleading mess, and for a moment it looks like he’s in that mood tonight. But when you say that, he’s reminded of his own rock hard erection, that’s been steadily dripping pre-come into the sand.

He doesn’t want to deny you nor himself that feeling of being so thoroughly fucked, so he doesn’t. Climbing up your body, your face instantly presses against his neck as he hikes your legs up once again, this time spreading them at the right angle that his throbbing cock stuffing you full.

“Ah, yes!” You moan loudly, a little too loudly, loud enough that the stars begin to twinkle brighter, the ocean creeping closer, caressing your sides, licking up against your bare bodies as he settles his weight on top of you, grunting in your ear, bottoming out. “Yes, that’s it -- right there, oh, Kylo!”

Unfocused, your glassy eyes look up at the stars and smile, and you swear they smile back at you, until you can’t look anymore, the pounding pleasure wracking through your body as Kylo gets his purchase and fucks you with a vigor that reminds you of the way he fucks you after battle. It’s so good, it’s too good, your toes curling in the sand, back arching up off the makeshift bed.

The sounds are thick, squelching wet and loud in the night, and your breath begins to come in faster, your moans higher, body on fire. All your nerves tingle and alight at once, and your eyes roll back into your head from the pleasure as he thrusts hard and fast, grinding his hips against yours.

“D-do you think they are watching us? Do you think they are pleased?” You gasp, digging your grip into the muscles of his back, clutching him tight as your body shoves up up up the tunic, the water chasing you, wetting you, covering your bodies and keeping you warm from the summer waters.

“Yes,” Kylo groans, “I feel it in my bones. Your cunt is so tight, oh fuck..!”

“Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.” You cry, the Goddesses above smiling down at you and Kylo. You can feel it in your bones too, can feel it in the way the sea caresses your sides, foam bubbling and tickling your legs as he lowers a hand to your throbbing cunt once more.

“Are you going to come?” His voice is deep and dark and so powerful, all yours, staring at you with concentration, as his fingers rub and pinch at your clit, “Will you come on my cock? Let me feel you.”

“You’re so fucking big -- so big, I -- I -- oh!” You gasp loudly, the sound echoing across the shore, deep into the ocean and high up into the stars. Your legs are spread so wide, and your pussy is so filled with his cock, that cock which doesn’t let up even as you’re teetering on the edge of coming, close close close.

“Beautiful, so beautiful.” Kylo bends himself down to suck on your nipples, harsh and aggressive and exactly what you need as he rolls your clit.

“Kylo please please please!” Nearly jackknifing, your body snaps up in pleasure as you scream out his name, music to his ears.

“Anything for you, always.” He’s drooling all over your chest, drunk off the feeling of your tight cunt clamping down around his cock, but he times his thrusts against your gspot with the rubbing of your clit, and your body shudders and you’re moaning so loudly that you almost have no idea that you’re coming, it’s all one big sensory overload, too much, too good.

The orgasm is beautiful, you can nearly see it, the stars that dance behind your shut eyelids, swirling and sparking down your veins, pleasure hazy and thick flooding your mind. Your heart beats fast, like you’ve run a decathlon, and all at once, that pleasure bubbles up through your chest into a shower of laughter, happy giggles that you can’t seem to stop once they’ve started.

Kylo has yet to finish, but you know this is his favorite part; when you are soft and pliant and he can bury himself even deeper inside your pussy, spilling his come hot and heavy into your cunt. He always makes sure you come first not only because he loves you and wants you to be pleased above all else, but because he loves the feeling of your body taking him so well.

After a few more grunts and hard thrusts that have you whining and gasping, overstimulated tears spilling down your cheeks, he comes, and you can feel the heat of it spreading through your body, sloshing around inside you.

He collapses down on top of your chest, the both of you taking in deep steady breaths, before you are giggling once again, your limbs nearly numb, softly saying, “I cannot move my legs.”

“Good, I don’t want you going anywhere.” Kylo is too tired to hold you, but you know he would be if he could.

“But the tide, my beloved, we’ll be swept away.” You laugh and laugh and laugh, the adrenaline giving way to something joyous and warm.

“They would never allow that.” He kisses your sternum, “And neither would I.”

Almost as if on cue, the ocean curls and curves around your bodies, touching everything but the spot where you lay, a silent agreement from the Goddesses. They love you, they want to see you succeed, they won’t let any harm come your way.

Later, much later, when you’re starting to grow stiff from lying on the hard floor of the shore, do you gently push Kylo to sit up, so that you can begin to re-dress and make the walk up the cliffs back to the palace. It is a long walk, and you know that if you don’t go now, you’ll both just sleep naked outside, which you’d never hear the end of. Kylo knows the same to be true, so he helps you stand up on your sex-wobbly feet, and hands you your robe to loosely wrap around your body. He dresses in his tunic, shaking off as much of the sand as possible -- when he whirls around to face you as you gasp in anguish, “Oh no!!”

“What is it, blossom?” Kylo is at your side in a moment, and you merely drop to your knees and search the sand with sad panicked eyes.

“My seashell! The waves -- it got lost -- I’m so sorry.” You look like you could cry, but not tears of pleasure, and Kylo can’t have that, not for one moment.

“It’s quite alright, it just gives us an excuse to come out here and look for it another night, doesn’t it?” He offers you his hands and pulls you back up to standing, holding your body close, kissing your throat and shoulders that are exposed, covering them with reassurance.

You sigh, feeling awful that he spent all that time looking for something to give you, and you went and lost it. But when you look at Kylo, eyes straining in the pitch black of night, you find that he’s not mad at all.

“Perhaps next time I shall find one for you too.” You say by way of apology again, and Kylo only shakes his head, pinching your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up to meet his in a kiss.

“There is no need, you are already the most precious pearl a man could hold.” He whispers, a secret just for you, one that you simply must kiss him again about.

“You are very good to me.” You whisper back, your hands bracing against his strong chest, against the Emperor’s chest, “I hope you know this. I hope you know how much I adore you.”

“One day I will see you Empress, and then I’ll have earned that praise.” Kylo muses, and you know that is a treasonous conversation that’s best had elsewhere -- another place and time. Murderous plots were not often pillow-talk, and you weren’t inclined to start that now.

“You are already deserving of it.” You promise him, before changing the subject before he can grow sentimental to dwell on it, “I have grown cold. Let us return to our rooms, and allow me to convince you.”

Beginning the long walk back the shore, the moon seems to follow your path along the horizon, shining on the water and providing a safe beacon of light for you to climb the cliffs once again.

You will ask Kylo to bring you out here again, maybe not tomorrow but perhaps the night after, and you will kiss and make love underneath the stars once again, seashells in hand.

These nights are special, the ones you get with your Emperor, and you intend to savor them as often as you can, your midnight pearls.

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Tagging some Kylo lovin' friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @lovinghufflepuffgirl @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea @princessflip

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #adam driver fanfic #adcu #kylo ren smut #ancient emperor au #emperor kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren/you #kylo ren x you #my writing

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relax-and-read-on · 3 years

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absolutely adoring your Konrad takes

Hahaha oh BOY im gonna use this as an excuse to babble about my favorite murder hobbo and sexuality.

I Love Konrad. I adore him. He's 100% my fav. I love him, and his sons, and his horribly shitty bat armour. God they are so ugly it goes right back to being funny.

I know that this is warhammer and that people care more about "where are the ammo clip" than the deep psychology of your fav, but shit, i do, and I have some THOUGHT.

Konrad grew up alone. He never had anyone actually care for him as a child. He was a homeless, nameless orphan, eating rats and corpse. He only survived by virtue of being a primarch full of instinct. If kids aren't properly socialised in early childhood, it develop a TON of issues for them (*Pointed look at Lion in the corner*). Anyway, at least Konrad had exposure to humans around him. The problem was, it was the happy fun criminals of Nostramo. I know a lot of people go "he was a primarch, he could probably take them when he was 4", but I call bullshit. In part because, at that early age, he probably craved human contact desperately. Babys are trusting. They *want* to be loved. That's how humans work.

What im getting at, is that Konrad was definitely, 100%, irrevocably, abused by criminals as a very young child. In the very bad no no way. That kind of abuse is also what probably lead to his mind splitting in with the Night Haunter, because Did is mostly caused by extreme abuse in early childhood. Poor Konrad, who was never touched of loved, and when it finally happen, it's only to brake and hurt him.

Now all that is fun, but as an adult, how does that bombs of trauma translate??? Weeeeell~! It's a mess!! On one hand, you have Konrad, who DO wants to do good. Yes, I know we always think of him as our favorite murder hobo who roll around in guts, but like. He wanted Justice. He wanted peace. He wanted people to be SAFE. Isn't that noble as fuck?? Doesn't that seem to you like the crooked wish of a survivor wanting others to never have to endure what he went through?? I think that, because of those facts, his baseline is being sex repulsed. He has just seen/experienced so much abuse and disgusting things, sex means nothing to him anymore. It's a power thing and he has no desire for it.

Than big E show up and goes "HEY LET'S WEAPONIZED YOUR TRAUMA SON" because he's a bastard.

And he has to be violent. And dangerous. And also discover a new world beyond the star, were some people actually love each others and are nice. He has to deal with motherfucking Fulgrim, who hug him and call him little brother and smile at him and very clearly sleep around and fully enjoy it, no pain at all. Poor Konrad. He cannot handle this at all. And ofc, the only person who realise this is Good ol' madlad Sevatar, aka "best fucking character in 40k, I accept no one else". Sevatar has a lot of similar trauma than Konrad, but instead of wanting to destroy any potential abuser or trigger, he just roll around in it and decide that you can't be traumatized if you never ever think about it. Charge ahead ayooo.

So ofc Sevatar get to Konrad, see him upset because his boss/dad walked in of Fulgrim enjoying heads or something, and goes "lmao I can suck u off too" wich probably earn him a beating. Except he take it sexually, wich weird out Konrad even more. Then he still probably still get sucked, because Sevatar aint a quitter.

And that's how the weirdest relationship ever in 40k start. Sometime Konrad wants to punish. Sometime he wants to be punished. He wants to hurt and then he wants to BE hurt the only person that seem to fully get it it is Sevatar, who happily and loudly goes along with everything. They show up the next day both looking like they had a fight with cave bear and missing some chunk of meat, and Konrad may not be saner, but at least he's getting some. It's 100% not romantic, he does not do that, he doesn't understand that. Sevatar like to jokingly call him "Daddy" if someone ask. He get punched into the face every time.

That's basically it! Wow that's a lot of ramble. Well, ok, he also probably after had a fling with Fulgrim, because everyone has, and probably slept with Dorn a few times before it became too weird. And there is the entire ~Thing~ with Vulkan but that's like, another giant rambly post entirely.

#imma smash that #konrad curze #sevatar #jago sevatarion #fuck his name is so stupid jago wtf #when your trauma make you hyper and a risk taker you see the big boss and go #warhammer 40k #warhammer #wh40k

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dilfbane · 3 years

Text

It Gets Better(A Silky Pearl)

Summary: It’s been a long time since things have gotten this bad. Loki, returned from his latest mission, lets you know that, with help and support, you can overcome the worst of things, and makes sure you know that he’ll be there with you to get you through it, each and every day.

Pairing: Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: Reader in this fic struggles with eating disorders. Thoughts and feelings related to these(specifically to anorexia and bulimia), are made throughout the fic, especially those that, in my personal experience, people with these disorders experience. I cannot stress enough that this will be discussed/referenced/talked about, sometimes explicitly(Though not graphically) and sometimes implicitly, so please be aware of that and know that it’s OK to take care of yourself and skip this one if that would be triggering to you!

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I want to preface this by saying that there are a LOT of people, both here and on AO3, who have made some amazing Loki/reader oneshots where the reader is struggling with mental health and/or physical health issues, that really provide a sense of warmth and fluff and support to people who may be going through those things themselves, and I’ve taken a lot of comfort in those fics over the course of the pandemic(I’ll be shouting out a couple of them in the tags!). I want to acknowledge that these exist, and that they’re awesome and have partly inspired my own writing, before talking about this little project I’m embarking on.

Because, while I have gotten a lot of comfort out of many of those pieces of writing, there are definitely some things which I feel like aren’t talked about as much in pieces like these which I have gone through, and which a lot of other people have gone/are going through, and…. I figured that maybe I could take a crack at trying to provide that hit of fluff for people dealing with those things, if I can, and hopefully use my own experience with them to do it in as respecful and accurate a way as possible.

All that being said, the first oneshot in this little project is going to be dealing with a pretty heavy subject, that being eating disorders. The reader in this fic does struggle with eating disorders - specifically anorexia and bulimia. I will not be actively describing anything too graphic about these disorders in this fic, except to highlight through implication and some sparse details that this is what’s happening here, as well as show some of the inner thought processes of the reader, but there definitely is enough in here to show that that’s what’s going on, so if anyone would be triggered by that, please take care of yourselves and give this one a pass! Also, I will further disclaim that there are many types of eating disorders, and everyone’s experience with them is different. In this oneshot, I wrote based off what I know to have been true during the time in my life when I struggled with the same conditions, and I really tried to make the fluff and support as kind and encouraging as I possibly could. If for ANY REASON there’s something that I did badly at, or something that’s disrespectful, anyone reading this may feel more than free to let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it! I don’t want this fic to be a place where anyone feels hurt or disrespected, that isn’t my intention at all, and if I make a mistake in that regard for any reason whatsoever, I would really appreciate knowing so that I can correct it!

Anyways, after that extremely lengthy A/N, just… please know, if you’re going through something like this, that you’re not alone, that help does exist and is out there, and that you are seen and heard. And take this Loki fluff, because honestly, there can never be too much of that in the world!

You know that he worries about you. Even before his latest, three-week mission, you know that he worried about you. In the mornings, as you pour your coffee, you watch him watch you with careful nonchalance, gaze boring into the back of your head, slight furrow creasing his eyebrows, frown pulling small at his lips. He dresses early, because he wakes early; it is a battle, most mornings, for you to get out of bed. And so what, if you take your coffee with more creamer than is necessarily normal - it has to last you a long time, this coffee. You need the sugar of it, to get you to that clean pain. It is sharper, more real, than any scalpel, any knife that Loki keeps concealed by his armor; all that fine Asgardian leather, green and supple and him. It gives you back the control that you lack. Lets you be the person that you would be.

It’s not that you’re afraid of your body, but you are ashamed by it; cannot fathom, even now with his gaze on you, that Loki could love somebody so dreadfully overweight.

Today, though - Today, you had thought, you had hoped, that it might be different. You don’t know why you have that hope, but it brims up in you; a physical need, a visible yearning, for you to be enough for once. Someone that Loki can stand to look at. Someone that Loki can love. He is looking at you now like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you flinch from the frown that creases his piercing gaze, unable to bear how it roves up the planes of your body; silhoutted in the light coming in through the window, you can feel each ounce of fat that stretches over your sinew, cartilage. (You know that Loki hates your body - He traces it sometimes like he’s probing you, trying to find where your bones are. You wish that you could call him on it, and know that you never could).

You stand at the counter, and turn from him; rummage in the cabinet for your coffee mug with shaking fingers; you almost feel like they’re rubber. Blue and cold, like his Jotun skin, but you know that it isn’t enough. Pins and needles prick at them - you can almost convince yourself that it’s only your guilt and shame, but you cannot hide from the pain suffusing Loki’s voice when he speaks.

“Darling,” He says, on a shaky breath, “We need to talk about this.”

“I know -” You tell him - you know that you can’t run from this, anymore. He knows how you look, how nothing you do is fixing it. And now, he’s going to leave you. “I know, Loki - I tried, Loki, I’m so sorry -“

The agony that wells up in you threatens to overwhelm your ability to speak, and you feel your knees buckle the second before you fall. Your kneecaps slam against the cupboard underneath the sink, your head hitting the edge of the counter as you slide down hard to the floor. It hurts. But every part of your body hurts, these days. It’s as constant as your worthlessness. And something else, too -

He is there, on the floor with you, in less time than it takes place to blink, pulling you hard and desperate into his arms; you don’t understand why, and you try to wrench yourself from him, sobs bubbling up and spilling out from your tightly shut eyes. You can feel the bruises starting to form on you, a lump throbbing at your temple.

“Love,” He is saying, “Y/N, sweetheart, come back to me. Come back to me, darling, please.” He is stroking your hair; you feel his fingers at its strands, thin and brittle. God, you think, how pathetic you are - you can’t even keep yourself pretty for him, for this god and all the sacrifices that he’s made. You cry harder, unable to stop your own wailing. When you finally do, you’re exhausted - it takes everything out of you.

“Loki,” You say, on a wretched whine, “I’m so cold.”

“Hush,” He says, “You’re alright. You’ll be warm soon - We’ll sort it, darling, I promise.”

You don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t something you can sort, but somehow you know, deep in your heart, that Loki understands. Still, his voice is so sweet, and the shudders that wrack you begin to halt in the steady hold of his embrace; the tender brush of his fingers over your skin. You feel like you can look at him, now, so you do it, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth to steel yourself for the cruel things you’re certain he’ll start with. But Loki’s gaze isn’t angry at you, not full of fury or disgust. They sparkle with unshed tears and concern, emerald in the daylight. It takes you a moment too long to realize all that pain, all that worry, is for you; when you do, though, you flinch away. Feel Loki’s fingers drop from your hairline to your cheek, then your chin, tilting your head up so that you can’t run and hide.

“I’m losing you, love,” Loki says. His voice is low, and steeped in sorrow. It is his turn to look down, with guilt and shame, and you feel a pang blossom, raw and red, in your heart. He sighs, and straightens his shoulders. He is filled with some new resolution, some new determination you can’t wince away from.

“I need to know,” Loki tells you, “How long this has been going on. I need to - I need you to tell me why, love. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

“I can’t,” You say, blinking back a fresh torrent of tears, “Tell you why. It’s not - I can’t - I don’t know.”

But you know, and Loki does, too. It’s the god of lies, holding you - of course he can tell that you’re lying. It is something other, and runs deep, this bone-y reluctance. A complex game of mental gymnastics. How could you ever tell Loki about the control that it gives you, the desperation with which you used all your calorie-counting and aching restraint to regain the love that you lost? The nights bent over toilet bowls; the way that, sometimes, you empty stomach made you dig your nails hard into your palms ’til they bled, to stop yourself from crying out at the pain. And he loves you - the part of you that craves his affection, that yearns to burrow fast and fierce into Loki’s embrace and spill all your secrets to him, makes sure to remind you of that.

“Y/N,” Says Loki, soft and tender, yet infused with a note so harsh that you would wince, if you could. “You can tell me anything. You need to.”

You notice things, now, in the face of his determination. You notice that Loki is looking at you like he’s in physical pain, and that there’s something sticky and red on the pads of the fingers that brushed up against your head.

“I’m bleeding,” You say. It comes out soft, horrified.

The frown that creases Loki’s face would bring you to your knees, if you weren’t there already.

“It’s just - a thing that I do,” You tell him, too ashamed to look at his face as you reveal it. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“That’s not enough for me, love.”

Loki’s lips are pursed tight, and the wound in his eyes has hardened to steel. The you part of your body - the fleeing part, the one who knows how to survive - seizes its’ chance and you duck out of his embrace, with far more strength than you had possessed in what felt like, potentially, years. Scrambles, backwards, like a cornered animal, over the tile floor, before heaving itself up to standing. It faces Loki, and its’ breath comes in stabbing-sharp. It is hard to remember that you have to call it ‘myself’. You feel older than you were, yesterday, and you cannot, quite, get air to come into your lungs. That’s not enough for me, you hear your lover say, ringing in your ears like a hyena’s howl.

You’re not enough for me, love. Your fingers spasm, clutching the sides of the kitchen table white-knuckled. You wonder, fleetingly, what Loki would do if you died. The thought makes you cry out in pain, a whimper ripping out from a throat rubbed fingernail-raw, but Loki does not move to stand.

“Come back to me,” He tells you, spiked with sorrow and need. And, perhaps for the first time, you admit it - to yourself, as much as to him.

“I don’t - I don’t think I know how.”

He smiles the smiole of someone who’s seen his own pain, faced his own lashing demons, and you pause to take him in fully, this god who says that he loves you, the man he is trying to be. You catch on hixs eyes, those bright emerald coins, his hair like the feathers of crows. His high, pale cheekbones, and his silver-tongue cut like glass. The pads of his fingertips, slender and cold, tender and fierce on your skin or the hilt of a dagger. You breathe in the smell of him, parchment and iron; peppermint tea and the smoke from a lorn, crimson fire. Wet leaves, after a rain. You feel your resolve start to waver.

“Well,” He says, all thoughtful, all trickster, “Sitting down, I believe, would be a good place to begin.”

The teasing lilt of his voice - an act that he is putting on, and all for you, always for you - cajoles you, coaxing you to lever your elbows and slide back down onto the floor, your weary legs feeling unimaginably grateful. Loki shoots you a new smile now, light and proud. He beckons you, with a cock of his head and a slim, fond gesture, to him - Of a sudden, the tiles beneath you seem like a desert, an ocean. You feel the weight of your emptiness. It laughs at you, its’ white teeth filed and barred. In your head, your failure is heavy; a hot and cackling creature with seven-foot claws pressing down on your chest, restricting your matchstick limbs. You are lost to the unyielding insistence of it, trapped in the maw of its cage, and Loki’s words, when they come, sound as far away as the shores of a country ancient and foreign.

“I was hardly gone,” He is saying, but you cannot answer him. “How could it have gotten this bad?”

It is that - that sadness, that fear in your lover - that breaks you, and you take the thing at a clumsy, terror-steeped sprint, not caring how wretched you look, so long as you can reach him - So long, you finally let yourself think, as there is something left of you for Loki to hold in his arms. Your body hurts worse than anything. You feel every scrape and bruise and chill on it; the pins and knives working at oxygen-starved nerves, and the gnawing clamp of your hunger, a brand pressing into your gut; and you know that Loki can’t save you. But maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to save yourself. And his fingers are there, going up to your hair, thumb rubbing at a hollow cheek and catching the salty dirge of an errant tear.

“It gets better, you know,” Loki tells you. He gets you onto his lap; you feel his heartbeat under your palms where you clutch tightly at his shirt to hold yourself up. A steady, thrumming proof that he is alive. And when he says it, you get the sense that, somehow, you’ve always know it, this whispered secret he’s weaving into your soul. “If you get proper help for it. If you want it to.”

He speaks casually, but there is a weight to his words. Miraculously - you’re not quite so sure how - you find yourself able to meet them.

“I want it to,” You tell him. “I didn’t, before - “ And here his eyes widen, and he shakes his head like you’ve shot him - “But I do. I want to -“

“Alright, love,” He tells you, running a soothing hand down over your side, past the hard planes of your collarbone, “Alright. It’s okay. You’re such a strong person- It’s going to be hard, for awhile, but I know that you can get through this. I’ll be right here with you, darling. Right here, by your side.”

“You will?” You ask him, voice cracking, hardly daring to hope that despite all this, he would stay. He chuckles, sadly, as if your thinking it hurts him, and he is deadly serious when he tells you,

“Y/N, of course I will.”

Somehow, though he’s the god of lies, you don’t doubt his words for an instant. You nod, and the nodding takes effort. Yet you are certain he understands what you mean.

“So,” Says Loki, “Can you - Tell me about this?”

You have to think, for a minute. Can you tell Loki about this? You know that he’s telling the truth, that he isn’t going to leave you. Still, you’ve never been this vulnerable with him before, not even in bed, and the fear in you won’t be put to rest so easily. You shake in his hold, and realize, with a frigid shock, how you must look to him - how badly you are hurting him, and how badly you’re hurting yourself, by keeping your feelings inside yourself and leaving your body to rot. You know, now, that Loki will help you through this - that he will be there, kind touches skirting the bad days; warm, mischevious smirks smoothing the wrinkles of your persistent self-doubts. There was a time when you needed to do this - there will, probably, still be days when you feel like you need to do this, to get a firm hold over your life, and keep the jackals at bay. There are other words to keep yourself safe, though. Loki’s breath in the dark is more home to you than anything you’ve ever had, and his open waiting, here in the daylight, makes you brave enough to speak.

“Maybe… Over lunch?” You offer. You bite your lip and hold out the query, a silky pearl in your hand. For one moment, Loki seems to consider; after all, he is the trickster, and a man not given to acting rashly, or stripping the drama from his complicated schemes. If this is a scheme, you think that you might forgive him - Later, when his lips are on your frame, when you’re there with him, again. His lips twitch into a grin so affectionate and proud that you know- you know - that if you seek proper care and really want to get better, you’ll get through the days that feel like walking on broken glass. You’ve done so much for me, that grin tells you. Let me do this for you.

He reaches out, and takes the pearl. You hardly recognize the man who rained hell down on New York, who snorts and jabs with sarcasm at every word that comes out of Iron Man’s mouth.

“Breakfast?” He counters, shooting a pointed glance at the microwave clock. It is a dare and a promise - a challenge, but never a trick. It tastes like honey on your tongue.

“Fine,” You say, “But you’ll have to cook.” Some kind of joy is creeping its way into you. Your voice, you find, barely trembles.

“Midgardians,” Lok says, with an eye-roll - a friendly, loving glint in his eyes that refuses to fade. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who burns water.” The joke prods your tender, new understanding, reassures you that he is still Loki; that he isn’t going to treat you differently, like a child, just because you’re suffering. The smile comes full onto you, and you wriggle, stretching your arms over your head and yawning, exaggerated for effect to add to the banter.

“I never said that I couldn’t cook,” You tell Loki, “Just wanted you to do it.”

“Mm,” He says, “And what will you be doing, then, while I cook?”

You chew at your lip, and choose to answer before your nerves make you panic.

“Finding the right words,” You admit, laying the truth bare to him.

His hands are wending through your hair now, and his lips are unberarably gentle on yours. He tastes like embers and ink. That sweet, slightly metalic tang that you’ve come to associate with his magic; cinnamon, tinged with steel. He kisses you for a second or two, before pulling away, but you could live in those seconds - Unfold it, like a blanket, and let the care of it warm your thin, freezing bones, if Loki weren’t here to show you that, with the right help, you can learn how to do it yourself.

“Finding the right words,” Loki muses, vaulting himself up to stand in a movement that’s unfairly graceful. “I’d much prefer yours, to be honest.”

He holds a hand out, and you take it, letting him pull you up. The floor, underneath you, feels solid. The sun is coming through the clouds, and out there in the wide world you can hear bird-song, the low, sugared sway of the breeze. There is something else there, too:

You let it wrap its tendrils around you, and you decide that it’s hope.

#loki/reader #loki/female reader #established relationship #eating disorders #mental health struggles #not me writing 3k plus words of loki helping the reader come to terms with the fact that they can recover from their eating disorders #because that's what I wanted to have when I was going through it #soft loki #i mean seriously #yeah there's angst #BUT #also just an unrepentant amount of loki fluff #he says it in the fic but i'll mention it here too:#if you're going through anything like this #know that you don't have to do it alone!#and that not only is it okay to get professional help #it's a good and positive thing that can be a very important part of recovery!#you have so much love and support in your life #because you're a beautiful amazing strong person and it's NOT YOUR FAULT that you're struggling with a mental illness #fics mentioned in the beginning as inspirations for writing this(and the next couple oneshots I have lined up) include:#The 'Loki's Lullabies' series by kaoerin on AO3 #and the 'As You Are' series by hopeless_romantic_spoonie/yespolkadot_kitty #also on AO3 #if any of you are on tumblr i'm so sorry i don't know your url's #but y'all should go show these fics love

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