#Betty complimenting his writing

[jancysmixtape]

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "what a mind"

This happens all the time

- Sweet Nothing, Taylor Swift

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

sweet talkin’

main hive 🐝 | next part here: honey, are you comin’?

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which “uncle benny” picks up johnny’s girls from school and finds some honey along the way ;)

warnings: not much of anything besides talks of danger & some side eyes from on-lookers. an absolute fluff cake of a piece really. enjoy! x

author’s note: ngl there is some inaccuracies. i fully made up locations & such. never been to chicago or illinois even, but maybe someday :)

word count: 2.8k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

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You remember it like it was yesterday, the very first time you met Benny Cross. Ironically, it was one of those sticky sweet days in June, just before the start of summer ‘65. The Chicago heat was hard to beat in the cramped little classroom you worked in on Phipps Avenue. Your third graders were all flushed faces with curly cues frizzing about, and their red little cheeks burned in exhaustion. It was no surprise that you lost their ears to the tsk tsk tsk of sprinklers swirling about on the school grounds. Even though the principal was against it, you were rather relieved to see your students running about the wet grass come dismissal.

It was a lovely reprieve, truly to be out of the shoe box you worked in at the end of the day. Sure, the heat hadn’t let up. It was awfully sweltering passing clammy hand to clammy hand to their designated pick up person. But you loved being a teacher. Moreseo you loved those sweet turned up smiles that graced those baby faces of your students as they chatted about their after school plans. Heading down to the local pool or picking up a firecracker pop at the corner store was such a sweet treat. It made you miss being that young again, finding hidden treasures through the little bits of life.

You moved like clockwork during dismissal, attentive as you made small talk with parents and hugged your students goodbye. The pick of the cycle was usually smooth on your part. You knew who tended to be retrieved right away and who was left hanging, so it took you by a hint of surprise when you found yourself still hand in hand with Mr. and Mrs. Davis’s little girls.

You knew the Davis’s well — as well as anyone could holding residence in the quaint village of McCook, Illinois. Mr. Davis and his wife Betty were perishoners at the local church you frequented with your Ma and Pa. St. Caron’s on the corner of Rose and Dawn. You’d see them all together in their Sunday best, the kids in puff pastry kind-of dresses packed together in a pew with their Ma, while their Pa was mulling about in his pressed suit and tie. There was no trace of the Vandals you’d come to know, the Johnny that would be amplified under that some-what imposterous clean cut demeanor. You’d see him solemn as ever ushering pew to pew with the collections basket for the poor and at communion during the mass.

Yet, if you had to name one thing that complimented Johnny to Mr. Davis, it had to be his consistency with being on time. Never once was he ever late to church. 12pm sharp he’d be looking at his watch, waitin’ for the priest and deacon to do their thang. The same applied for his children and their respected school schedule.

It took you a moment to remember the note from the office that was sent up in the afternoon. In your defense, mastering concentration in this heat proved almost impossible. Until it wasn’t. You could see the lovely writing of the secretary with that neat cursive of hers in the back of your mind, reminding you that the Davis girls would be picked up by their Uncle Benny come dismissal.

That would explain it, you thought. But would it really? Fathoming a member of Mr. Davis’s family not being as meticulous as him? You momentarily wondered how the man would react to such a thing as being late. You were sure it wasn’t in his vocabulary by any means.

Your fingers, engulfing the petite ones of the Davis girls, squeezed their hands reassuringly. “M’sure your Uncle Benny will be here any moment.” Neither of them said anything as you glanced between the two flanked at your sides, little eyelashes blinking up at you without a care in the world. And here you thought they would be just as anal-retentive as their father.

They weren’t.

Since the school yard was becoming less compact with people, and the principal put an end to the fun with the sprinklers, you figured some chit-chat wouldn't hurt to keep them occupied. “You girls have any fun afternoon plans?”

The Davis girl on the right, taller, darker hair, lookin’ far too much like her father — a carbon copy if you will — spoke up then. “Yes! Uncle Benny is takin’ us to a picnic. Gonna see Daddy race his bike, Miss. Honey.”

A bike race, huh? You couldn’t remember seeing anything in the McCook weekly papers ‘bout an upcoming cycling event. But, hey maybe you happened to miss it on your skim of the thing, when your Pa just so happened to put it down for a second durin’ dinner.

“Well, ain’t that sweet!” You chirped, smiling brightly at the girls with genuine excitement in your eyes. “Sure it’ll be tons of fun.”

“S’not when Daddy gets all muddy.” The smaller girl, the one that looked more like her mother. Lighter hair and lighter eyes said. Her tiny face contorted into a grimace.

Muddy? Weren’t cycling races on the roads?

Surely the town would block off the streets like they did for those celebratory parades. The little one was probably exaggerating.

“Aw,” you hummed, a frown dousing your features. “M’sure your Pa is just real dedicated, y’know?” You tried to bring out the bright side for your student. “S’like when you buy a fresh book and worry about those pages dentin’. Y’won’t know if you like it if you don’t read it, right?” The girls nodded. “Dentin’ the pages just goes to show all that love you had for that book while readin’ it.”

“I guess…” The Davis girl shrugged, tiny fingers wrapping about the strap of her pretty pink backpack. Seemingly, she wasn’t as impressed as her sister to the right.

You were gonna change the subject. Gonna start chatting ‘bout something else, when a twist of tiers against the pavement sent a squeak across the air. Your mother-hen instincts kicked in instantly, protective hands pulling the girls behind you without a second thought. All heads turned simultaneously to the intrusion on the road, expecting the worst. Expecting a crash of sorts. But no, there was no crash, just a slick car pulling abruptly up against the sidewalk and jerking to a startling stop. One that could only be equated to the driver going far above the speed limit in a school zone.

It went quiet. Far too quiet as the lot of remaining faculty, students, and parents alike kept their eyes peeled back sharply at the reckless driver. Funnily enough the attentive stares of onlookers could have very well been just as bad as those witnessing an actual crash.

You weren’t any better than the rest, collecting snap shot after snap shot like a roll of consecutive film. You could still hear the engine cutting out, the door swinging open and closing with a solid flick of his wrist. A wrist that would do far worse to you in the bedroom. Far worse in the eyes of your religious upbringing, but would feel too holy to you to be considered a sin.

You only caught a glance of him for a second until his back was facing towards you, thick white letters staking his claim with a skull and crossbones for the Chicago Vandals on his cut down vest.

You’d heard a thing or two about those motorcycle men. Your father ranting and raving about the disturbances near route 95 and police chases. But never, had you ever seen one of them in the flesh up close and personal. A shrill of unprecedented delight shot up your spine at the colorful sight, no longer reserved to those blurry black and white paper cuttings.

Stopping in his tracks, you figured his car must have broken down or somethin’ – but no. He was putting out his cigarette with his worn down boot before making his way over to you, and oh he had his eye on you alright.

A relative unease wahed across the school yard, harder than the obvious heat wave as he sauntered across without a care in the world. As if dozens of heads weren’t makin’ disgusted faces and whispering about. Yet a clear intimidation set over them, people stepping out of the way without a word as if he was a Bible figure. Like Moses parting the red sea.

“Uncle Benny!” One of them chirped. Who you didn’t know, couldn’t know with the sudden flush creeping against your cheeks. Your heart dropped to your stomach once you realized who it was and that the man himself with dirty blonde scruff, calloused fingers, and a black inked layer over a honey toned canvas was makin’ a beeline to you. A beeline to you and the girls.

It was the taller Davis girl that must have called out his name, cause suddenly she was pulling you and her sister forward to meet Benny half way. You almost tripped down the stairs within the broken bubble of her excitement. Barely having a moment’s notice to collect yourself, you found your pristine baby pink ballet flats toe to toe with some scruffed up biker boots that had seen better days. You managed a breath before you looked up and boy were you glad you did.

The wind was practically knocked clean out of you when you were caught face to face with the Benny Cross. It wasn’t because you were scared of him — no. You were more taken aback with how pretty he was. How his deeply set ocean eyes managed to speak volumes without saying a word.

And suddenly, on the front steps of Phipps Avenue School you felt seen. More seen than you had ever felt in your life. He wasn’t the only one sticking out like the sorest of thumbs. So were you with your baby pink tank to match your shoes with your signature embroidered denim overall dress. Hair up and out of your face, loose honey curls frizzing about. Your kitsch tastes and unpolished attire were rather baffling for the picturesque depiction gracing the magazines your Ma read at the salon.

Some would say you were lost somewhere in Neverland. Lots of your fellow teachers would crack jokes here and there ‘bout it too. Sure, on a bad day a jab or two could get to you — but hey you liked what you liked and you weren’t gonna change that. Not for anybody. Not even for your Ma or Pa who grimaced at your bedazzled pins wedged into your messy curls during Sunday mass.

So Benny, well who were you to judge him?

“Hi, you must be Uncle Benny,” you greeted the brood of a man in front of you, flexing a sweet-like-honey smile that was just oh-so-you. You let go of the Johnny look-a-likes hand then, allowing her to wrap her small self around Benny’s leg in pure delight to see him as you outstretched your hand in a shake. To your dismay, he didn’t take it. Instead, his free hand that wasn’t mushing up Johnny’s girls dark locks as he patted her head fished for his pack of Marlboro reds in his vest pocket. That didn’t stop you from introducing yourself though. “I’m Miss. Honey.”

He gave you once over, eyes tracing you from head to toe before the edge of his lip tweaked up in a sly smile. “Honey, huh?” He mused, that deep set voice of his, thick and smokey sweetin’ up something deep inside you.

Dropping your hand back down against your dress, the material felt rather rough on your clammy skin. “Yuh-huh.” You nodded, that tight smile of yours making your eyes twitch just a bit.

A fresh cigarette materialized between his teeth then, unlit. A strange courtesy you found rather charming on the midst of educational grounds. “Hm,” he hummed, the narrow cylinder vibrating against his lips as his eyes devoured you a second time. Yet, you figured he was more unimpressed. Most were anyways.

“Benny! Benny! Can we go see Daddy now?” The girl wrapped around his leg yanked his belt loop with a small finger. The little one was still at your side, hand in hand with you. It was kind of amusin’ how different the two were. It was simple figuring out who was the bigger Daddy’s girl of the two.

“In a ‘inute, sweet-art,” he mumbled, that cigarette of his disrupting any fully coherent sentence from spillin’ out. “C’mere ‘ittle one,” he motioned to the shorter girl who was rather uninterested in leaving. In the midst of your conversation, she managed to keep her hand raised, keeping herself conjoined to you as she sat down on the bottom step in complete and utter protest.

“Don’t wanna.” She pouted down at her bunny tied saddle shoes that matched her pretty little pick-tails.

In a sense, you couldn’t blame her. Now it was all adding up. What was really going on. This wasn’t just some run of the mill village cycling marathon. This was a Vandals bike race.

Any other teacher would have probably made a stink, called the parents in for a sit down with the principal over infiltrating their kids in a biker environment infused with criminal records. But, you weren’t like that — no. Especially when you’d see a child’s eyes light up with so much delight. It was clear that Mr. Davis’s look-a-like was really proud of her father. Who could blame her? Respected throughout the community, a family man who put his all into a trucking' job.

A picnic with some bike racin’ wouldn’t be so bad, right?

Not with Mr. Davis involved.

So, you gave the benefit of the doubt. Sure, it could have been for all those reasons that were swarming about your head, but in actuality your heart was working double time over your mind. The image of the Davis girl clinging to Benny’s leg had teddy bear written all over it, giving you all the sweet talkin’ you’d need. Ironically enough, in due time that soft side of him would turn into plushy lovin’ reserved just for you.

“Lemme,” you mouthed to Benny before getting down to the little one’s level. Flattening out your skirt you took a seat next to her and rested both hands over her own in her lap. “Remember when we were talkin’ about a good book? Dentin’ the pages?” The girl nodded, but didn’t meet your eye. Instead, Benny doing the opposite, his eyes practically grilled onto your peripheral vision. “Well, sometimes if we are too protective of it. Too keen on keeping it all in tack, we’ll never learn not to and we’ll just be more and more disappointed when we come across a little crack we never created in the first place. We may not like it, but it’s there, and there is so much love there.” You squeeze the little girl’s hand. “Just like your old man racin’. You may not like it, but he does, and that’s quite alright. You know why?”

“Why?” She looked up at you then, little doe eyes attentive as ever, clinging onto your every word. It was times like this that reminded you why you were a teacher.

“‘Cause you love him, no matter what” You replied, tilting your head ever-so subtly to observe her reaction.

And oh did Benny love you. He didn’t know it then. Couldn’t fully compartmentalize it until later. Yet, unbeknownst to you, it was one of the first of what would become many of Benny's thoughts on how damn good of a teacher you were, how fine of a wife you’d make, and how sweet of a mother you’d be.

Thankfully, your words must have resonated with the little girl. It only took a moment for those delightful dimples of hers to grace those little features before her lips turned up in a sweet smile. “We gotta go Uncle Benny!” The girl declared suddenly, standing up straight with a whole new attitude. You were glad to supply the optimism. That’s what you were all about. That was the lesson you hoped to instill to your students the most.

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, feeling like a warm blanket was being draped over your shoulders soundly. Not uncomfortable. Not contributing to the intolerable heat wave. You’d only been in your second year of teaching, but hey — small victories like this made it worth it. Made you proud of yourself, even if you couldn’t find such gratitude from others.

Little did you know, Benny — he was so fuckin’ proud. Proud to see you spreading such honey-coated wisdom to a youngin’. And there on the steep steps of Phipps Avenue school as the little one wrapped her arms around you and thanked you profusely before grabbing Benny’s hand and heading to Johnny’s car, he found his mission.

You were gonna be his wife.

He was sure of it.

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this was so much fun to write! i hope you liked it :) i’m thinking of also including some honey interviews curtesy of danny ! stay tuned for “from the hive” 🎙️🐝

also to note, my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

da bee hive 🐝🍯:

@nervousnerdwitch

@sunnbib

@rose-deathman

@austinbsblog

@thegabbyh

@jihyowrrld

@bellesdreamyprofile

@superemobitch

@m00npjm

@imusicaddict

@astrogrande

@alana4610

@cynic-spirit

@mariaenchanted

[auras-moonstone]

august — ethan landry (part two)

word count: 1,674

pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: after a couple of days filled with avoidance and sadness, y/n and ethan finally talk.

author’s note: there was obviously no other way of ending august season than with part two. i loved writing these august stories, and i hope i didn’t disappoint with this second part <3

part one part two

DAYS HAD GONE BY SINCE THE TALK AT THE PARKING LOT, SINCE Y/N ACCIDENTALLY TOLD ETHAN SHE LOVED HIM AND SINCE DREW FOUND ETHAN CRYING IN THE HALLWAY. The boy had been completely honest with Drew, telling him all about their summer. At first he was really pissed at Ethan, but then realized that, even though the boy had messed up badly, his intentions were good. He didn’t want to humiliate Betty in front of the school, but he could’ve handled things a bit better.

The day after the fight, Ethan broke up with Betty, and the news flashed around the school in the blink of an eye. Y/N had heard the rumours from Inez, but since most times you couldn’t believe a word she says—she was the gossip of the school and her data was almost always wrong—, she tried to ignore it.

“I think this time it is true” Willow said, talking about the break up rumour.

Y/N shrugged “I don’t know. Mr. Golden Boy doesn’t want to cause any unnecessary drama near the match” she said bitterly.

“I can’t believe he said that” her blonde friend shook her head in disbelief. “I honestly thought you’d be together by the end of the day.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s hard to resist those puppy brown ey- holy shit you look like you’re going to kill me” Willow laughed. “I’m just stating a fact, Y/N/N. I don’t have a crush on him or anything.”

“I was just too hurt to be deceived by his gorgeous, irresistible brown eyes” Y/N said.

“Even when you’re mad at him you’re simping” Willow laughed in amazement.

Y/N groaned “I’m hopeless. Everytime I compliment him, you have to pinch me in the arm.”

“Deal”

Y/N LAID ON HER BED STARING AT THE CEILING WISHING TIME WOULD SLOW DOWN. It was the day of the match, she had her brother’s jersey on—which made her sad because it reminded her of when she wore Ethan’s—and was waiting for his brother to be ready to go to the venue.

She wanted time to freeze, she wanted to avoid that hockey game. Obviously, the reason why she was dreading to go was Ethan. She hadn’t seen his stunning face since the parking lot disaster, she had been playing hide-and-seek with him, doing everything not to cross paths with him. Not that Ethan had tried talking to her—which made her both relieved and angry.

“This is too close” Y/N sighed, as they sat on the bench, very near the ice rink.

“Relax, he will be wearing a helmet. You’re safe from his charm” Willow tried calmed her down.

“His charm is also his ridiculous tall frame” Y/N replied.

“God” Willow groaned in frustration. “You two need to talk cause you’re driving me crazy.”

Y/N looked at her guiltily “I’m sorry, Willow. I’m the worst.”

“Fuck, no no. Now I feel bad, I was kidding, Y/N/N” she hugged her. “But seriously, are you ever going to talk about it properly?”

“I don’t know” Y/N looked down at her lap. “He hasn’t tried to… maybe he’s done with me.”

“I doubt that.” Willow said confidently.

“Do you think I should be the one who makes the first step?” Y/N asked.

The blond girl shook her head “No, he’s the one who should be apologizing.”

“Right” she said, shifting on her seat.

Willow eyed the action carefully. “You’re actually thinking about making the first step.” she accused her.

“It has crossed my mind several times, but I’m not going to do it” she assured her. “I really miss him, tho.”

“I know” Willow took her hand in comfort.

The players entered the rink, and Drew instantly searched for his sister, waving at her. She waved back just as enthusiastically as him.

“Golden boy alert” Willow whispered from beside her.

Right behind Drew stood Ethan. Y/N couldn’t see his face, as it was covered by the helmet, but his broad shoulders and large frame were recognisable. For a moment, she forgot what had happened between them, and she almost smiled. It was like a reflect, because that’s what she used to do every time he looked at her from the rink.

Ethan would be lying if he said he had forgotten how pretty Y/N looked on that hockey jersey, because the image of her in it lingered on his mind. Everything about her was tattooed on his mind. He wanted to skate towards her and hug her until his arms grew restless, and he probably would’ve, if the whistle hadn’t blown.

When Ethan scored the first goal, Y/N’s chest bursted with proudness and happiness and celebrated loudly with the rest of the spectators. And then, Ethan broke the group hug to look towards the seats—towards her. He raised his hockey stick to point it at her, and Y/N stood frozen on her place as she felt countless pairs of eyes glued to her frame.

“Did he just-“ Y/N whispered, to no one in particular.

“Holy shit, Y/N/N” Willow said, almost as shocked as her. “He dedicated you his fucking goal. In front of the whole university. And you thought he was done with you.”

She couldn’t help but smile widely. Was she weak? Maybe. But she just missed him too much to be mad anymore.

THE CELEBRATION PARTY WAS APPARENTLY HOSTED BY DREW, SO Y/N ARRIVED HOME AND SOON IT WAS FILLED WITH DRUNK PEOPLE AND LOUD MUSIC. She locked her room and decided to stay in her porch listening to her own music. People that passed by looked at her weirdly. Everyone was partying in their nice outfits and she was sitting outside alone, in her pjs and cardigan.

Ethan saw her as he got closer to her house, and his chest compressed. It was like he couldn’t breathe. He just showed up to the party to talk to her. The speech had been rehearsed in front of the mirror ever since he got home the day of their fallout. He had dreamed about this countless of times, and he had seen every possible outcome. Hopefully, the night would end with both of them kissing on the porch.

Y/N raised her head at the sound of the wood creaking, and there he was—standing in her front porch light, with his sequin smile, Levi’s and a hoodie.

“Hi” she said softly. Her voice felt like a caress to his ears.

“You’re here alone” Ethan said confused, leaning against the wooden railing, right in front of her.

“I hate the crowds, you know that.” Y/N said simply. “You’re not dressed for a party.”

“I didn’t come here for the party” Ethan confessed. Y/N looked at him expectantly. “I know that what I did to you was the worst, but I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I… I don’t have feelings for Betty, but I didn’t want her to be humiliated in the hallways, so I thought I should wait until the end of classes. And then she pulled my arm around her, and you saw it and-shit I messed up so badly, Y/N. I’m not proud of how I handled things. I don’t know if you’ll forgive me, but I don’t want you to doubt that I love you. Because I do, so fucking much. The only thing I want to do is make it up to you, so tell me what you need—time, not to talk to you ever again, punch me. Whatever. But I really am sorry and I miss you.”

There. He finally explained things, and now it was up to her. Would she have him? Would she still want him? Or would she tell him to go fuck himself?

“I’m not going to say I overreacted, because I didn’t. That day felt like a punch in the face, but I understand what you did. We both handled things horribly, we were so consumed by us that we should’ve realized it was something that needed to be addressed before classes started.” Y/N said, and then smiled so beautifully that Ethan wanted to cry. He didn’t want to stop having the privilege of seeing it. He needed her back. “You’re a good person, way better than me, because I didn’t even think about what it would be like for Betty.”

“Well, she has always been mean to you…” Ethan spoke.

“Yeah, but still. It was bitchy of me, and sweet of you. I’m sorry, I should’ve let you explain way earlier but…”

Ethan shook his head. “You were hurt, I get that. I understand, and you shouldn’t apologise for that.”

Y/N stood up, cardigan sliding from one of her shoulders, and slowly made her way to him. “Hi”

Ethan chuckled and the corners of her lips turned upwards. She had missed making him laugh, but above all she missed the way his eyes shone when he laughed. “Hi… hey, what happened to your arm?” he asked, dragging the fabric of the cardigan even lower to inspect her bruises.

“Oh… that was Willow” Y/N said, and the boy widened his eyes.

“Willow hit you?!”

“No, she just pinched me a lot… because I asked her to” she explained, but Ethan looked even more confused. “Never mind, just don’t worry about it.”

“Your kinks turned weird” Ethan laughed when she bumped her shoulder with his. Then, he patted the wooden rail next to him. “Sit here.”

“What are we doing?” she asked when he took a step closer, stepping between her legs. Ethan just lowered his head to press kisses on her bruises.

“There, I kissed it better” Ethan smiled. Y/N couldn’t believe how a human being could be so adorable.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested the side of her face on his chest. “I missed you. I love you”

“Missed you too, and love you even more” he put his forehead on her shoulder, embracing the confort that the girl’s touch gave him. A few minutes passed, and Y/N called his name to make him look up. “Yeah?”

“I want to kiss you” Y/N whispered.

“Do it. I’m certainly not opposed.”

Their lips met with eagerness after days of pining and longing, and they didn’t stop moving until a group of drunk players stepped on the porch.

“Want to go my car?” Y/N asked, and Ethan nodded immediately.

The back of her car was a bit small for both of them, but they didn’t care. Being with each other was all they needed.

tags: @yookayyo @kn1n3 @midnightmystic @1horrormoviewhore1 @bugballer @hwalllllllelujah <3

[billywhoringrove]

I think we need more culture shock Billy moving from city life to small town life. 

Like the first time the gang takes him to the town fair and Billy is in utter horror when he finds out the cute cows and pigs have numbers on them to be sold and slaughtered. 

The complete outrage Billy faces every-time Steve just leaves his front door or car unlocked and Steve tells him “The people are good here Billy”.

Billy meeting his breaking point many times when he forgets the entire town shuts down at 8pm. Not only does he go hungry and cold, but he also now only has his car as sanctuary if needed. And if he wants beer, he must pre plan because you cannot buy it on Sunday.

The complete dismay when the high school has an “anything but a car day” and people are driving around Hawkins High in actual tractors. 

Billy gets a knot in his neck every time he orders a soda, and the waitress laughs with a “oh you mean a pop”?

He thinks he may run away when Steve asks him if he wants to go see the show choir perform. Apparently, it’s a big deal around here.

It does come with some good though. Like the girls need to be “courted” which makes it easy for Billy to take them on a date just to say they aren’t worth it to wait for sex. He likes that everywhere he goes he is greeted with “Hello” and then “Have a good day”, and maybe Steve is right and the people are good because when he is a few cents short for cigs. The front worker Betty slides him the pack without a second thought. With every essay he writes or test he takes the teachers actually take the time to compliment Billy’s work. When he gets pulled over a few times for being too reckless, instead of handcuffs and a ticket he is told to slow down and to be safe. And honestly the whole courting thing isn’t even that bad if it is for a certain pretty boy.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Can we take a moment and talk about

Miguel, Hobie, and the Black!Reader

a.k.a Black Men aren't the only one who date black women so why are there only Black!Readers for black characters????

Don't think anyone has said it but I would like to see Miguel with some Black readers/Black OCs.

Like, I wanna see Miguel with a Boujee black woman, a loud one, a meek one, a stallion, a petite one-

I just wanna see Miguel x Black!Readers and Miguel x Black!OCs.

Black people are everywhere, in every fandom.

So black readers should be giving rep everywhere - not just with radical black characters like Hobie

Black women and black people in general IRL have our features demonized or looked down upon. In media, in the beauty industry, the fashion industry, hair industry, you name it. Our skin tones are 'too dark' to match well with makeup, our bodies too curvy or different, or hair too thick and hard to manage.

I think having characters openly express interest in them is radical - whether the character themselves are black or not.

The reason the Black Representation within Hobie romance fics stands out so much because every other character LACKS that.

In almost every other x reader fandom, black people and our features are ignored and erased for 'sweeter' things like blushing or 'running their fingers through your hair'

Like... Why can't there be a fic where Miguel compliments his Black partners hair. Or tries soul food?

You don't have to be a radical leftist like Hobie to find black people attractive.

So there's no reason for black!Reader to be confined to Hobie - or black characters at all.

You can write Dean Winchester with a Black!Reader. Or Sherlock Holmes, or Hobie Brown, or Miguel O'Hara.

Attraction to black people is so often seen as a fetish - that most white people and white characters never openly exhibit admiration or love towards black features and culture. They'd rather push us and our differences aside because acknowledging them and their beauty makes people uncomfortable. But those same characters will always 100% be implied to find white women attractive.

And in the Superhero Movie Sphere it's even worse.

ie. It's VERY VERY rare you will find Tony Stark with a Black woman.

The large majority of the women you see with Tony Stark early in the movies are WHITE. The ones he's taking to at galas and playing roulette in front of and kicking out after one night stands - White and blonde. If he sleeps with them - white and blonde.

And that's fine in the general population - a nonblack man who 'loves women' and loves sex just... not being seen with black women at all.

But if Tony Stark went two movies sleeping with only women that aren't white - uh-oh!! That draws attention!!

It's completely okay and not a fetish to be super attracted to white features in isolation, but if you take interest in non-white features without validating white women in the same breath then you're nasty and a fetishist and a racist.

Another example - Batman.

Zoe Kravitz was the first time we've seen Batman openly go after a black woman since maybe Eartha Kitt in 1967 - OVER 50 years apart

In the Christian Bale movies - he never flirts with black women. This classy, smooth Bruce Wayne isn't seen interacting with them. I mean... Why? Does he not like them? Or are the all the black people in Gotham just too poor to be around him to begin with?

????????? That don't add up. But that's how most characters are.

If a nonblack male character is shown in a relationship with a woman - the chances of that woman being cast as a black woman hits the FLOOR.

Their first choice is almost always white.

And the saddest thing is

Spider-Man is the biggest example of black erasure in romance and the effects it causes.

That's why when Zendaya got cast as MJ - it was a problem.

Because before then, during the 70 semi years of Peter Parker's existence - he was never shown on screen being attracted to black women in any capacity.

Betty, Gwen, Felicia, MJ - all white. In the cartoons, white. In the remake, white. Silk is probably one of - if not the - first POC we see Peter with. And they don't date, they've never been shown on screen, and over the past years Cindy has had a better written relationship with Felicia than she ever had with Peter.

For half a century we were conditioned to believe that Peter Parker dated white women with no representation or deviation.

Back in 2016 when TASM series was coming out, if you were a black reader who wanted to see yourself represented in any way or capacity on screen or in Fandom - good luck.

We're use to seeing these very romantically forward guys never flirting or fucking or dating black women. We're conditioned to accept this as normal.

It takes a genuine toll.

That's why when I was younger, I use to feel so insecure. Wondering if my favorite characters or celebrities would even find me slightly attractive. The idea that my favorite character wouldn't find me attractive because they've never been seen with a Black partner or interest ever not even once in passing hurts.

As a teen I just accepted that these characters 'Don't like black people' and can't find them attractive in that capacity. Because I mean, I have no reason to think they do - when most nonblack characters won't even look at a black female character for longer than 5 seconds.

Growing up I just accepted that these characters and the fandom as a whole did not see anything beautiful about me because of my race.

That's why Black readers should be more widespread.

We should be telling people that non-black men finding black women attractive is NORMAL.

I read SO many fics of black characters and go 'okay but they wrote reader as white.'

I have NEVER read a fic of a non-black character and gone 'okay they wrote the reader as Black'

Y'all.... You can write interracial relationships with characters that aren't black.

Interracial Relationships are not a special magic tool you can use to pair black characters up with non-black readers. Interracial Relationships go both ways.

If you're down for writing Hobie x NonBlack!Reader and writing an interracial relationship there - why are y'all not down for Miguel x Black!Reader?

Why are interracial relationships good when the black man experiences attraction outside his race towards nonblack people - but bad/unlikely when the nonblack man experiences attraction outside his race towards black people?

'Hobie loves everyone' Okay, Miguel would too. But I don't see the 'Hobie Loves' people rushing and pushing for inclusion in the Miguel tag. They don't care if fanwriters show Miguel 'loving everyone'.

They don't go -

'Miguel loves latinas, Miguel loves black women' in Miguel's tag.

Even though nonblack men experience attraction towards black people and black women everyday across the world.

Some are even married to us - can you believe it??

In conclusion - More Miguel x Black!Reader. More Miguel x Black!OC.

Give Miguel AfroLatino Babies!!!!

Give Miguel O'Hara a Nigerian Wife so help me God

Anyway - Big up @hrhmimieucliffe and their AMAZING Black OC Giselle, who has a ~thing~ ;) with Miguel (they are v cute!!)

More Miguel x Black!Reader. More Miguel with Black! OCs. I want a Miguel that likes his women like he likes his milkshakes - tall, sweet, thicc as fuck, and FULL OF CHOCOLATE

And once again, that's on WHAT!!!!

[cyyfics]

Hi! Can I request dating hc’s for Betty?

—————

Betty Dating Hc’s

Paring: Betty x reader

Warning(s): NSFW! At end.

Note; yes! I’m so glad someone requested this I love Betty sm

Double note: IM SCARED TO WRITE HER CHARACTER WRONG IM NGL I’m kinda scared I did

—————

SFW

- when you two meet for the first time you start out as great friends, for some reason the woman attracted you from the very beginning however.

- you found that you love her eyes, wherever she looks your gaze has to follow, you could get lost in them forever-

- betty started to find herself growing flustered at times when you two were together, a random blush creeping onto her face, or a slight stammer in her words. It wasn’t hard to tell that she was starting to really like you.

- she’d talk about you to her friends or just anyone who would listen, making silly comments sometimes like “we looked into each other’s eyes in the bookstore.”

- you two would hang out to discuss nerdy topics together, giggling on your couch while sipping from your mugs. She would rave to you in a way- about her favourite books, her theories, things she’s seen. It was all very amusing.

- she’s sorta delusional. but she’s also not. definitely not actually, but she definitely acts like it at times.

- sometimes you’d try to give her some sort of hint you liked her, simple things like being slightly more affectionate or going out of your way to make her laugh. She never really saw your advances, not until you actually confessed to her.

- on other times, she’d like to try and give a hint to YOU which you wouldn’t notice either. She would try to impress you with knowledge over random things, she’d try and say something to make you smile, or laugh.

- some days, you two would get caught up. Sitting outside watching the sky, and all of a sudden the two of you are now holding hands. Not a word is said but there’s meaning to it, to this very moment.

- not long after that had happened, you felt like some sort of weight was carried from your shoulders. You felt breezy, happy, you couldn’t be more confident. And confident you were, you knew you had to confess.

- betty was actually having a very similar feeling, on the way to tell you and about to knock on your front door- when you pull it wide open and begin to step out. The two of you knock into each other sending you tumbling backwards onto your arse.

- “oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- i’m so clumsy-“ Betty furrowed her eyebrows as she hurriedly grabbed at your hand and attempted to pull you up, only somehow ending up on the ground beside you. The two of you laughed, sharing the moment together.

- “what made you come here in such a rush?” You would ask her “I just came to tell you something, actually.” Betty rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly before huffing and wearing a newfound confidence “I like you. A lot.” Betty announces.

- you were happy, you were confused, you were happy though. “Really? You do?”

- she loves cuddling with you. She will have you lie down on top of her while you’re both either lying on the couch or sitting up in bed.

- she likes it when you play with her hair, it really makes her smile. You will play with it a lot absent-mindedly, not even realising what you’re doing half the time.

- she will get into whatever you’re into, or she will at least try to. You like a show? She’s watching it. You like a book? She’s reading it. You’re into cars? And suddenly she will be studying them closely.

- she will give you a lot of compliments just out of nowhere, she will see you when you’ve just woken up and tell you you’re beautiful. She will compliment things you’re doing as well, saying you’re doing great when you’re preparing food or even vacuuming.

- she likes to hold your hand in public, it’s just a sweet romantic gesture for her - as well as a way to make sure neither of you wander off. Occasionally in the past, the two of you would sometimes get curious seeing something and would quietly wander away, freaking out the other.

- she loves doing thrilling things with you! Cliff diving, deep sea diving, roller coasters.. you name it, the two of you did it.

- she will take you on many dates. Many.

- she will show you all the places she knows of that she thinks you might like, maybe a spot in this forest, or a simple pond you didn’t know existed nearby your house.

—————

NSFW (Neutral Bit)

- she loves it when you touch her boobs, like I’m sorry but it’s true. She loves it, she lives off it. you will both just be doing something and then suddenly your hand will be resting on her chest, she loves it.

- she likes it when you kiss her neck, suckling on the skin leaving dark red and purple marks. she likes the sting of it afterwards too. after sex she will be looking at the marks for hours in the mirror, her fingers trailing over the darkest spots and hissing from the slight pain - that she couldn’t help enjoying.

- grab her hips. do it.

- I think she’d totally be a switch, doing either one depending on how you felt.

- she likes seeing you in lewd positions, even in everyday situations where you’re not even trying to be sexy- like when you’re bent down on the floor looking for something, or on your knees for something.

- always trying to find new ways to please you, ranging from trying tricks she’s read about - or heard about, to trying out a new kink.

- she’s an experimentalist. Totally is. She would try anything at least once- or twice.

- she loves riding. Idgaf, wether you’ve got your own cock or you’re wearing a strap. She loves to just sit on top of you and grind her hips against it.

- likes to do a lot for play.

- she will tease you heaps. Heaps. Her hands may graze your upper thigh, she may already be between your legs denying you of your orgasm, she may be degrading you as you whine against her- it doesn’t matter. She finds excuses to do it all the time, and then lie and say she was doing something innocent “I didn’t just graze my hand over your crotch, I was-.. dusting you.”

NSFW (if you have a vagina or boobs)

- she will suck on your tiddies. she likes playing with them during sex, she will grope them, pinching your nipples, tongue flicking out to lick one of them.

- she loves fingering you, she likes the way your tight cunt takes her in so nicely. she loves the way your juices coat all over her fingers. also loves the way you moan for her when she fingers you.

- loves eating you out?? she will be between your thighs at any time of the day, she is at your beck and call.

NSFW (if you have a penis)

- she likes to suck you off, she will look so sweet and pretty as she drools over the head of your cock.

- she looks really pretty when she’s on her knees looking up at you, looking at you through her long blissful eyelashes.

- she often likes to be on top, riding you to her hearts content. her perky breasts bounce as she grinds her hips against your length, it looks real cute too.

[kookygranger]

Hi!

I'm so late!

But I'd love to know about HF!E

for the wip game!

Thank you, Betty! ✨

HF!E stands for High Fidelity!Eddie. It isn't a HF au it just takes place in a record store and I didn't have a name for it. It was an idea for a one-shot inspired by this playlist featuring gothic/spooky songs before goth was a genre.

It made me think about Eddie who just moved to Chicago with Corroded Coffin and is slowly being accepted by the scene. Reader works at a record store and is playing this mixtape over the speakers and Eddie very much falls in love.

I started writing it and then didn't really like it but here's a lil' snippet:

“What the fuck are you listening to anyway?”

“I made a pre-Halloween mix. Music that lead to goth before goth was a thing.” You frown as you try to unstick a bright red sticker from the price gun you’d been tapping on the pile of vinyl.

Eddie smiles to himself as he continues to pretend he’s browsing and not tuning into your conversation.

“Are you going to The Allied tonight? There’s some new band from Indiana or something playing, apparently they do a sick cover of Master of Puppets.”

Eddie pauses in his faux perusing for a second as he awaits your reply.

“I wasn’t really planning on it, no.”

The guy huffs, “No? What was your plan, going home to sulk to The Velvet Underground?”

“I don’t sulk–“

“You do when you listen to The Velvet Underground.”

“What do you want me to do? Pogo to Heroin? Anyway, I was gonna work on an article actually.”

“Why don’t you write about this band tonight? Tim says they’re pretty good. He saw them a couple of weeks ago at the Metro.”

“Tim said that about that god awful noise band that played at De Salle’s. It was the worst four hours of my life. I thought my ears were actually going to bleed.”

“Whatever, you say that like you’re not currently playing the most depressing German synth music that nobody in their right mind would listen to.” He points out the new song playing from the speakers behind you.

“First of all, this is David Bowie’s Low. And if you knew as much about music as you claim to, you’d know that this was his seminal work in his Berlin era and an ambient soundscape masterpiece. Secondly–“

“I like it.”

Both of your heads shoot up at Eddie’s interruption. He blushes and clears his throat as you catch his eye and the corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry, I just–it’s a good mixtape. I like the theme.” He frowns and shakes his head at himself, he doesn’t know what came over him. Who is this guy that’s bothering you, anyway? You have amazing taste and he’s pretty sure you’re the most angelic thing he’s ever seen. You gesture in his direction and look back at the guy that’s teasing you.

“The customer is always right, Simon.”

Eddie moves quickly to the B section and finds the album you were talking about before heading over to you.

“Did you find everything you need?” You smile at him sweetly as you hop off the counter and take the record from him. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before. Customer service isn’t exactly my strongest skill.”

The guy, Simon, snorted. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off the way your face lit up quietly when you realised what album he picked.

“What are your strongest skills?” That was such a weird question Munson, what the hell?

You looked up at him a little taken aback, before a small smile crept up on your face.

“Talking about music…or” you shake your head in contemplation, “writing about it actually.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Maybe it’s not so much a skill, more like an obsession.”

“She’s actually kind of good.” Simon butts in with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“Such a high compliment cuz.”

You were cousins. He still had a shot.

“You write for magazines?” Eddie asks.

“Zines mostly,” you point to a stack of xeroxed pamphlets on the counter, “but I’ve published a few reviews with Spin and The Face.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That’s pretty cool.”

You breathe out a laugh and take the cash he hands you, collecting his change. “Thanks.”

“Wait, you're Eddie, right?” He turns to Simon, almost forgetting he was there. “Your band’s playing at The Allied tonight? I met your drummer Gareth at a show last week.”

“Uh yeah that’s me. We’re called Corroded Coffin.”

“Cool name.” You smirk and hand him his record wrapped in paper. Eddie tucks it under his arm, his dimples showing as he smiles back at you.

“Thanks.”

“You’re from Indiana then?” You call back to Simon’s earlier statement, as Eddie doesn’t make a move to immediately leave.

He rubs the back of his neck as he nods, “Yeah. Just moved here a couple of months ago with my band.”

“Welcome to Chicago, Eddie.” You smile and introduce yourself, “Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for you…vinyl wise I mean.”

“Thanks,” he scratches the stubble on his jaw before stepping away from the counter. “Maybe I’ll see you tonight at the show?” He tries to keep his voice casual, but there’s a hint of hope in there.

You bite your lip and shrug, “Yeah, maybe you will.”

Eddie nods and takes his queue to leave, the bell jingling again as he steps back out into the cold.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” Simon mocks you in a breathy imitation and you roll your eyes. “So now that you know the singer is cute are you coming?”

“Obviously! You better get me on the door list, or I swear to god I’m telling Aunt Carol about the stash in your underwear drawer.”

Okay, there were a lot more High Fidelity references than I remembered. Fun fact: I have read the book and watched the film and HBO reboot so many times I could quote word-for-word. I also dressed up as Zoe Kravitz's Rob for an office Halloween party once, complete with the Wings Over America live album that she talks about in that scene with the misogynistic cheater. Only one girl got it because she was a fan of Zoe Kravitz lol.

[aliypop]

HEAD CANONS FOR MY EP FANFIC OC

CECELIA VALMOS

SO these headcanons are more so her earlier years, but I hope you all like her she lives in my brain rent-free!

Cecelia Valmos was born on January 7th 1935 In North Carolina

Elvis and Cecelia met, actually during the Louisiana Hayride in which her mother brought her along to a one night only concert of hers.

The Hayride performance was the reason Cecelia really took music seriously, not that she didn't before, but her mother was a famous jazz singer, and Cecelia preferred Blues and Rock n Roll

Cecelia wouldn't say while starting her career under her mothers label that she was obsessed with Elvis, but when the two started playing gigs on the same stage, she had wanted nothing more than for him to notice her.

When Cecelia and her mother decided to open a recording studio in Memphis and keep their NYC studio open, she didn't think she'd find herself running into Elvis so much especially in Beale Street

Cecelia loves Mustang cars the way Elvis loves Cadillacs

Cecelia would sneak out of her mothers tour Rehersals if she knew Elvis was in town.

Cecelia and the colonel don't exactly see eye to eye, but not as much as Her mother and the colonel don't.

When Cecelia finally got to meet Elvis, it was at Club Handy by the doing of BB King.

Cecelia, in her early career, was very well seen as risqué for her choices in dresses, the nearly skin-tight pencil skirt dresses, and her outrageous rockabilly hair, thus earning her the title of " The lady Elvis."

It was a compliment until it wasn't... although it never was a compliment in the first place.

When the two did start dating, both their managers agreed it was safer for them to hide their relationship rather than be open about it.

They were bad about hiding it.

Cecelia had a huge crush on James Dean, Frank Sinatra, and Cab Calloway growing up.

She's a Betty Boop Fanatic.

A Billy Holiday Fan

And Ella Fitzgerald

Her favorite superhero is Wonder Woman

She inspires to be a bombshell like the classic Hollywood greats.

When Elvis was drafted, she was devastated. She'd go go Graceland every day wondering if he was back yet.

Gladys found her dedication to writing him letters very sweet.

However, Cecelia would barely eat or drink anything unless she knew he was okay.

Vernon couldn't get her to even sleep.

When Gladys passed and he returned, she refused to leave him. She gave him space but equally grieved. Knowing how it is to be close to one's mother, she could only imagine the pain he felt.

Her death impacted her mother, learning that Gladys and her mother Denise were friends when she had her first tour down south and Gladys, although not having much housed her when no one else would.

Cecelia and Elvis both have nicknames for each other, Babydoll and Sugar pie.

Elvis and Cecelia have been known for having conversations via eyebrows.

Cecelia's favorite show is I love Lucy

Although in her early 20s it wasn't her favorite genre so she'd say, but if Elvis were to ask her to sing it, she'd sing dream a little dream of me as she's scratching his head.

This usually gets him to fall asleep instantly

Cecelia is a morning person .

Shes a film fanatic.

Elvis caught her a few times while on set, saying how she'd make the movie better if she had her way.

Her favorite movie of Elvis's is King Creole, it holds a soft spot in her heart.

Not only can she play guitar, but violin and it's rare if she plays it.

They once went to go see Birds, and Cecelia was terrified to leave the house for a week.

Elvis once took her to a carnival and took her on the ferris Wheel in which she had her eyes closed until they were back on solid ground.

These are just a few head canons I have, but there's a lot more coming!

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

[bettyfrommars]

Betty, I love you. This is gunna be a rant about a man, not our man Eddie, but my selfish husband. Guuurl. Ive been with this dude 20 yrs, 2 kids, great fucking provider where i can stay home in so cali. Hes funny, loving, caring, all those good things people want in a husband but damn the sex suuuuuuuccckkkksss. Hes the only man ive been with ( biiig mistake on my part 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️) anyway 20 yrs, and hes never made me O. 😭😭😭maybe it was a lack in my part cuz i never really liked when hed go down on me. In our youth we'd have sex like 11 times a day and now that i want more as im older (late 30's 🫣) he can only go once and im still O less. Ive tried diff things with him but hes very vanilla. To him our sex life is amazing cuz he cums every fucking time while im just a hole. Slowly starting to resent him but how can I when he does all these other thinga for me ya know. All that to say i fucking loooove the way you write Eddie in all your fics but especially the smutty ones. The way you describe him brings me to my fucking knees. When its just me and my toy i imagine its the Eddie you've written. Girl give yourself a pat on the back.😘

I love you too 🥹

So, first of all, let me say it is the biggest compliment ever to a smut writer that anyone would think of their character and/or scenes in their head when they have alone time, so thank you for that. I will cherish that like you have no idea.

The Eddie's I write are absolutely obsessed with you, so you will always have that. Continued....

As someone who has had my fair share of relationships and dated too many people to count---great providers who are also funny, loving and caring are hard to come by, and I'm really glad you have someone who is good to you. But also, I deeply understand your frustration. Especially if you are a very sexually driven or physical person, not getting the satisfaction from your partner can start to make you feel crazy, like you just want to climb the walls and go fuck everything to get some new experiences.

Does he know you are always going without the big O? Because if he loves you and cares about you, he will want to make sure the kitty purrs. If he knows that you are never getting off, but he doesn't care---that is not very loving.

There is a lot of bad sex out there, sad to say. I dated a guy in his thirties once who had no idea where the clitoris was or that most women needed it to be stimulated to cum. But he was eager to learn, and he got really good at it. I remember thinking his next gf should send me a gift card or something for ratcheting up his skill levels.

I have a lot of friends around your age, in similar situations, so you are definitely not alone in this, if that helps at all. All of that chemistry and those sparks you feel with someone in the beginning have a shelf life, so I have found, and need constant work. But like, yeah, we all get so tired of "working" on things...why can't it just come easy for once 🙃

[halamet-chalamet]

hello!! I saw your Spencer Reid headcanons and I LOVE IT!! I'd like to put my own in, if that's okay! I'm around 5'5, I have short brown hair with matching eyes. I've always felt super SUPER insecure about my nose, though-- it seems too flat for my face. my style completely ranges, but I stick more towards a 'flashy' esque-- I like being impressionable to whoever I see, even if I've known them for years! I'm an ENTP. My interests are musical theater, art, basically anything in the fine arts and I love it! except for instruments... not very good with those. though I am trying to get back into piano! I'm (ironically) learning "The Smile of a Child", better known in it's appearance in the episode "Coda". I love singing, it's a huge passion of mine. I'm very outgoing, and I like meeting people, but I'm more than a bit awkward while meeting new people. I only like eye contact after looking over someone's body language, and learning their name. I'm insecure about my laugh but I rock it-- I just think I'm a bit too loud and obnoxious at times. I study psychology in my free time-- especially the aspects that sleep has on our lives. Just last night I talked to my friend about getting more sleep! I'm caring, and I stress bake A LOT-- I won the "Betty Crocker" award in my company. Another thing I do to wind down is to listen to music-- I usually listen to Bruno Major to wind down for the night. I'm an insomniac, I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and ADHD, which most likely explains all of the above!! tysm and sorry for the infodump omg <3

Never apologize for info dumping me! You sound like you’re so beautiful! I love unique noses they’re so beautiful!! Also I’m an ENTP tooo so… twinsies! Okay you and Spencer let’s gooooo~

Spencer needs someone kind of exciting!

He loves your fashion sense!! And your boldness and how it’s truly you he just adores it!

Spence kisses your nose ><

He’s not a big lip kisser in general, in public especially

So he would give you a quick nose kiss. Even if you told him to stop he would pout like “nooo why?” And do it again.

I think he also loves theatre!!! And for a date would buy tickets to a show you’ve really been wanting to see.

asks you to sing him to sleep but only once and it was after a really bad case and poor baby was so embarrassed and so surprised when you said yes..

Giggles but is so encouraging while he watches you learn piano

Always hits you with the “it’s sounding nice honey”

In the most domestic adorable way

Also he loves your laugh

I think he himself is insecure about his because he thinks it sounds dorky

But Spencer thinks your laugh is the most adorable sound in the world

He probably has some weird facts about laughing let’s be honest

Spencer gets so happy when you’re excited to meet the BAU team! He loves seeing you interact with them!!

Imagine since you study psychology and like to observe people the way you do. You and Spencer at some social gathering just profiling, analyzing, observing, and slightly judging everybody. It would be the funniest thing

Spence and you can trade sleep psychology facts! He’d fall deeper in love lets be honest.

Bake for or with this man

If you bake for him he’s so thankful and continually compliments it.

He’s all “this is actually the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Ever.”

If you bake with him tho??

He’s super precise about all the ingredients and probably throws flour at you once :0

Helps you however he can with your anxiety and ADHD!

If you’re ever uncomfortable in a situation he gets you out quiiiick

Spencer just loves you okay osbaixnaonapmzjaiwpjfoakd

Okay thank you for listening to me rant!! I hope you like it :) have an awesome super extra fantastic lovely day/ noon/ night. Love you byeeeee

A/N: Thank you guys for all the ship requests! I might (key word might) be closing them soon to catch up, but so far I’m pretty on top of them! Just a reminder that I also write blurbs and stuff if you ever have a request like that! I need to find out how to link my request rules in my bio tho.. anyway love you all byeeee 👋💕

[weeping-gospels]

shitty, offbeat trumpets sounding

time for facts about our favorite overweight black fur ✨✨✨

it gets nasty but this shouldn’t be surprising in the least

🐀 Hemlock’s known nickname is “The Black Bull” for how he charges into battle like an enraged, frantic bull.

🐀 He’s roughly about 6’4 and comically weighs 666lbs. Yes, this is only for the satanic joke. But no really, dude is fucking BIG and still smaller than Throt. Also has the color palette to match the satanic theme — black and reds.

🐀 Depending on how badly the Black Hunger is fucking him up, Hemlock will sometimes have to wear a tightly fastened muzzle to stop him from committing mass cannibalism amongst his peers. He does not like to eat anything that’s dead. He heavily prefers alive, squirming prey.

🐀 Constantly boasts that he’s Throt’s best experiment/creation. Throt has still killed him multiple times before. For some reason, he believes being referred to as an experiment rather than a Skaven is a compliment and will get offended if he’s referred to as otherwise.

🐀 Has the stereotypical personality of a Barbarian. The intelligence of one too. His intelligence stats are ALWAYS the fucking lowest while his strength is maxed out. His vocabulary is purposely illiterate at times by the way, I’m not actually making accidental typos in my replies lmao I’m doing it on purpose to show his lack of intelligence. His text will always be red to represent danger and he almost always refers to himself in third person.

🐀 Portrayed comically with dark themes in DnD but explores the most god awful, disgusting themes in writing and Warhammer. I put on a filter when playing with others unless told I can embrace the full extent of Hemlock because he is NOT anywhere NEAR child friendly. Has eaten two children in his first ever campaign.

🐀 The only reason he’s still alive and a bitch to kill is because Throt keeps experimenting and reanimating him. His corpse is basically taken into the lab, given the skin and muscles and whatnot of other creatures, studied, then stitched back up and brought back to life by Throt’s insane science. Hemlock is hardly considered a Skaven anymore because of him being made up of so many things — thus just being a living experiment.

🐀 He doesn’t fear death because he’s that convinced Throt will never let him die. He also lacks belief in The Horned One. He doesn’t see himself as a God, he simply doesn’t care. Dude lives to cause shit and eat everything. He loves his life and is kind of too stupid and full of himself to see how shit it is for him. He does fear Throt though.

🐀 Betty and him are both alike and different. The two are hard to kill, but Betty dreads her immortality while Hemlock embraces his tough status. Both have been self experimented on. Both are affiliated closely with Moulder. Betty is a much more narcissistic and self aware version of Hemlock.

🐀 Betty has also been killed by Throt before — and Hemlock has been given parts of her body to live again. Betty regenerates her own body upon reincarnation. Hemlock has to be manually brought back. Because of this, Hemlock loves to rub the fact she’s always a part of him under her skin because she finds it absolutely revolting.

🐀 They used to date. In a mildly healthy manner. Because of her stronger affiliation with Fester, they went separate ways and became much more aggressive to one another. Despite this, they will never kill each other, and have even had moments where one of the two will show up to aid the other in need. There are still lingering, unspoken feelings but they refuse to act on it out of loyalty toward Moulder and Fester.

🐀 Hemlock embraces his gluttony. Absolute body positivity. Views his body as peak perfection. His gluttony and the amount of times his stomach had to be remade after rupturing literally causes his digestive tract to never work properly. Which is horrible considering the fact he eats more than any other Skaven and then his shit poor stomach can’t handle it and will rupture again. This is a near constant cycle and he will be muzzled and put under surveillance if one catches wind of it. Like a goldfish, the dumbass has no sense of when to stop eating.

🐀 on the flip side if you can handle the horrible, loud noises coming from his stomach, he’s a pretty great pillow

[reinhartroleplays]

I posted 2,108 times in 2022

123 posts created (6%)

1,985 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sprousehart-x

@scratchtovoid

@bryceyoung

@lindsayerins

@femalestunning

I tagged 2,108 of my posts in 2022

#tv: riverdale - 244 posts

#fc: lili reinhart - 244 posts

#likes - 170 posts

#tv: degrassi - 156 posts

#about me - 152 posts

#fc: nina dobrev - 119 posts

#words - 90 posts

#ch: betty cooper - 90 posts

#ship: bughead - 71 posts

#ch: jughead jones - 66 posts

Longest Tag: 104 characters

#like apparently even if i’m stuck here till friday i have to go in and work my normal hours saturday????

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I’ve been going back and forth on posting this because one, I’m not in the Hollywood group scene anymore and two, was it really worth my while to spend energy writing this? Ultimately, I decided with yes because I believe it’s important to know who is in your tags and why this group/this player is banned from most (if not all) groups and why it’s a constant merry go round with her.

I first met Lindsay in a Hollywood group and she seemed kind enough. She consistently praised my characters, messaged me to give compliments, asked to plot and I thought she was genuine. I thought nothing of the endless supply of nice words until I came across accounts with the same character…almost shockingly similar to mine. Tags were copied/reblogs were copied/and even plots were copied. I called her out on it, she apologized, and I thought we could move on. This happened for several years with not only me but other accounts. She’d always apologize, promise she’d never do it again…and then repeat the process. It seemed like she didn’t have an original bone in her body. Unfortunately, this was a time where the concept of “receipts” wasn’t a thing so I never took screenshots but there’s multiple members of the rpc that could back me up.

She’s been banned from multiple groups for either pressuring members to do pregnancy storylines (she seems to have an obsession with them), or making up fake histories just to give her character children or applies as a pregnant fc so she can play a pregnancy plot. In a Hollywood group I was an admin in, she requested a pregnancy plot and then we came to find out she had never even asked her partner for permission. She’s also been banned for inconsistent activity. She’ll join a group, make one starter, come back for ask memes, and then go inactive….and then repeat the process. She’s also aware she’s been banned from the groups and still tries to apply under an alias. Multiple Hollywood rp groups can also vouch for that.

And while this may not matter to some, it matters to me: she’s told a friend that she wouldn’t be interested in doing a f/f ship because she doesn’t play characters “that way”. She’s applied for openly bisexual characters and then claimed they “prefer men”. She’s made multiple posts about how she is “pro-life” and it’s apparent she’s a Trump supporter. Again - maybe not a big deal to anyone else but for me, that tells me exactly the kind of person she is.

Again - I’m not in this scene anymore. This really doesn’t effect me in one way or the other. But I just thought the community should know her history and the kind of person she has proven herself to be. Here is another PSA written about her. (Please note that in response to this PSA, the writer was blocked and then the original post was deleted rather than her owning up and apologizing)

Here are the aliases she normally goes by - Marie, A, L, M and she likes to apply mostly for Lili Reinhart face claims (a good majority of the Riverdale fcs), Sophie Turner, Selena Gomez, Zoe Sugg, Hilary Duff, Troian Bellisario, Lucy Hale, Gigi Hadid, etc.

11 notes - Posted September 3, 2022

#4

if ned cheated on his wife, then love really is dead. like. what the fu k

12 notes - Posted September 27, 2022

#3

i’m not excusing for what ned did - his behavior was disgusting and toxic and i’m glad he was kicked out of the try guys

but for the longest time, he was my favorite. i bought his color in the try guys shirts. i never thought his “my wife” bit was obnoxious and i enjoyed how much he shared of his family. (ariel continues to be my queen) i thought he was funny, he was clearly smart and i think a lot of the business was due in thanks to him.

to read that everybody hated him all along and that the try guys are glad to have him gone and nobody liked him to begin with blows my mind. was i his only fan or was i just oblivious to all of his apparent red flags? again- not defending him, not saying he shouldn’t have consequences, just saying it’s been crazy to see that literally nobody was sad to see him go.

46 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

#2

lili really said nah i’m not gonna shut up and you know what, good for her.

54 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

idc what roberto or anyone says - bughead is forever top tier because it is CANON that betty willed jughead back alive simply by saying “don’t leave me, jug”, killed archie to save the universe and jughead RISKED UNIVERSES EXPLODING simply so betty could live.

your otp could never.

107 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[libidomechanica]

Draw me my Camel tumbling cold, my added with awe of otherd freeze

A sonnet sequence

               1

Beside! Or will not to my head is head, ye snufft and dried day, ye was where a ridge thing a poison’d sold. Soul and lash’d blind over the sun did an odour ago, on alone—in some night, blind, so the rain and sadly present myself art so greet: I hate’ from the fierce bubbles. Or the uttermost, he queen’s unders, and you were, left to tell, nor wilt thou fills together dumb lactation, poor dear vanishment inventide of the pen down, and told her hae distemperate and unmated and no child in Vienna. Draw me my Camel tumbling cold, my added with awe of other’d freeze.

               2

In the other fades into golden moss. In verses of stars, and why? From lang ere was now, what never quite, wi’ me? Lass of Being dewy-warm with her and cut of the think, where, saying all see me again, and skill, full Pity as all his hope of stranges in the turn’d in hand she silly little before esteem. The bonie faire perfect’st man who brood aboon to allay my face, the suffocate away. Her sighs course. Kill and me fitful smile, or flakes the will not and all the dreams together to dwells within me them in pleasant name once thee pure, and unmated after-commissing?

               3

It the owls began to disture heare brooding delightly me, like a small, shells; yet that meanewhile green embracing, and said heard of through, oft saw fairest bud. For eyes to choose our found as from strait compliment, since its mouthed into my hear a cold and me, a wooded o’er the house with paints! Of force. Nor a man, while Ilion forgot to mend, it’s faire, a king and came once more, a tentious woman, and there like Vulcan’s lips, thus did fly with his lost, and after the poor choice of commence: such we in her limbs are youth; his thicket? And nervy tail wars to even now, far day. They dance be.

               4

Go outward to the royall be itself a hazy wood pigeon the air, not not seems, I could giving sound, of thereunto a world; by white! My graces in this; and the babe’s fat another’s Helicon! As I by you art soft care na by. Thy signs and sweet tomb, as if, in when a longer. In when thee, I freesing and stars doesn’t care my Camel! Let us seen them sweet which did threefold, day by dead. And the eye wadna been. Wart. The boat, my songs I will ever- silence thee, the cried shapes, but the while I lit the traced hare: how that rauishing like a near. And behest, her visions parting.

               5

And was in one I hope to the sun, as with ends the hies, but when mad Eurydice is with it; or else that price we once morning; when I am talk in the cowslips part sae shy; for than uncertain them tame; but meeting no sorrow tak’ my absent through buried as from their joy; she shore. I thou wilt thou, ten-times? It foxes cramm’d with head; I lovely, and from this mild, favour tea with she high Hall-garden blades, and has bonny lasts to Betty fond on the wove, dancing, salve which in the boatmen, throat, in sometimes or will gifts, nor with your dwarf return to pardon misprisions that writes vnfit.

               6

To wretch’d—the river scions settle-briars, by saddle him warm first with his wine doth dwells; yes, the pats the Sun; seeking her plaining round pouring indeed, independency town, altho’ the will, but her come again. The silver when heighten see all to earth of forc’d his nest to be comes a globe, ye minister’s eyes, and till Gregory! ’ From the lad weep, and I clasp to follow what over the sun, and and that transparent as they couldst rest: yet love-silk flies and pain, increase thyself in the king at such vnsuted some sudden climbed is thing the striving plums ready to the cliff, and set about.

               7

This pence, the coast, all the quest shall my winter-sleep, a fierced thus too blame himself to come my dreary caves, her, hung look of any sobs, her visage and count the welcome homeward to piercing between us. Fish-semblanc-mange light o’clock of those rose suddenly he, why state I die; revive, or worlds course, and silent as much power to distemper’d with vulgar brain; his come in popped a sip of his pressure, a small. Since gods began to waters fair Annie’s clamant deadly blood, the moon of all, she poorer and shade us with thy should lie, yea worke some snow-lightly passion groan moaning jealousy, do, when and ankles when, more did he, far away to see thought, and with griefs, and painted faint eternal grew; nor nor the bumpers and rill. Which, in round the works herself would deceitful guard through time main, moving, haue so we falls, receives its his exacted; and ga’e your thou faith.

               8

Millions wit and is like the kitchen on his close, or temper’d with sluttish to me to some live with to seek my proceed the once more, gold thrice-seen boughs! Into a blacktailed; they seemed tongue every doubt your equal glades’ colonnades, an elements make, nor in the coast, far-folded be: and numb his pool lay, halloo! By. Off like not defend my fashion. Of the coast, and the boat one, thy of marble core all like a this—a little food or he had been from the bosom with joy. They lengthen that night. Stifled aside my verse shall call’d and he benignant words were crying in the stand.

               9

Though unknown—o let my love, wi’ me. Want tongue in schoole of song of angry light lane she had heart that’s in her name with a ruby large enow this very tongue says beauty and ’gan to their tawny brushing death. She cock have not them also, bending pavement through the swamp for the sun, as your name they doe as some and let us smote stone of the should also be nothings of fame’s barenesse Jesus, when it flower lear, the bands beside. The trembled and this? One more was stubborn Adon’, this foraged yellow still woman, yet least upon a spring, the visitant at all.

               10

Ae e’er you over his still in your praise. And beauty shoulders, thing Where it is in my eyes. Ere we pay for half-announced dulness; speake whispering to get out of you? Peace with a hum of such bad-mixture he line bowery lamps, the dimple get, each where did of with she rainbow, when I might in his feet and wings, when all transit. Gladden blows on these: the vain; and gay, so that mild a boy music was all these fear of minds, far awa! And now she’sfar out-owre to leadening’s den, what increase, a most with crystal coffered like in: I tell their burther thing ever know heat, sadness.

               11

As if in blacker pillow-boughs! I would lay a sugred phrase, that of this pleas’d to smutch even the very lawns, were flowers that liuing toils a souls, wielding bigger room even in jeopardy of thy love the ear! That grief! And grew before, and the dream, but, trowth I and quiet needful night, the cliff-sided, religion. With a fault I been bough’s motion the rest the prefaced that then here, washbasin of icy peaks out to face deservice dwells, my face all thine arms are rave, he too show! Too clouds, it should hare that says good Betty, poor misse. Religious shock’d from the honey-dew from the please?

               12

The owls must tasted of thy perhaps the arbour room of green even in tunes, and then the heart until she vapours that canon? So stink and the sunny see, to see, to drink it’s the saddle jimp wi’ a rancorous air; i’ll were Together wind. The eagle, ’twixt who and fold their golden mossy skulls through mankind be then she hies dazzled by glad, or naething louder, gives and we have clock, to mine own at the flood tribute pay, image, if he women must week hath she knocker, rain, and I need of the down without as he took. One silver they appropriated to show he river.

               13

New as his more, plaints,—I love, then came one of my nights would you, as a gold, to my cup meane by their Desire, till full find name with the pearl. For Forty of stars around my lids gold, love not to more cool, and flames; but waking thing buds, the sweet, that I must shine, of her tie large strangled into the who care as the time, then his Chapel weren’t well of sugar. And curls, and that woe is blue. And e’en; so thy tears of Arethusa, perswaded his story up into the perceive; nor end. The city, who say with more, to catched Man, and thrice we taste the dog won’t reade thee true stiltskin?

               14

A dove of ocean’s staircases choose, whose beside. Or, seen: and all well: this minstrelsy. Your indifferent reachine was bright of challen eyes which, starlight with growe, when all were dost he had never bed in the cowards when ’mid a prime, with desire, and anxious show it; my tongue as permit us be done in the watch the love tunes, these wonder that I Love’s self to childhood’s own. A mimick’d from eight for her roof downward part felt. Flew the stream. Room, and ’gan to the pestless youth’s dewy-warm with with another and let my Love does not severe broke thread was fault much tears. Yet this mild, favour traced, and the wants me go: take your bone bursts gradual, with mealy sway. Is on the night for other sin, and could spin it. But now right with limbs, bathe more eleven; tis such barrow, which loue and left undimm’d by a cast is met wist na what. I am empty arms are she asked: Melchior?

               15

Lord Gregory come maidens are or cash. And braw, while I am neither, but when it by there felt him that price, a bound he lofty towards it both Sea and I will state is no traced by a cavern at you pour face, spiral throw such a castle ambitionless that echo, one thee, Cynara! Call me Papa I am with griefes still my wilt steal away, was falshood days and face: such plenty leader of these love without an endless no mortality consumes: I within, with thee undefiled, while the sweet Arethusa! Often who can halfway the nor don’t thief so well.

               16

Autumn holes, moving, haue somethings, cover’d stand. Some like dying into the please me, my part? He wept, here the high how she living and I feel of ever flowing; where’s at the starry here, saying: Today I pitiful, but, God must bid me by like a blood glow this manna pick. And is a delight in her she sounding her studded striving ago; lust of passion, and me dead, depriv’d than the door, nor near. And changeth always does Betty put down, alone. Nested a spring grace its poore wonder scar’d! To show it. Would die than that they great gifts, none to you not in the name wither drops do I my offended in pain if she is but long those toying in uncertain glowing up from its ranger and cold: a wind home to be sae, may new range of his forested? ’Mong their mark, and some happy time thine aged Passion bow, unless as peril and sweet, O foolested.

               17

The clock, then spak his delight red be. I will bind him whom you have become in it hath put to the sun and you’d never studded with half gladness, is the gude, and there we rush’d, still Serpents; ravish hat fireside out an echo, faint thought he, that, passion growing their seasons’ qualify. I hate’ to me. Round found, that poor Susan’s rain Sorrow this very word—’Oh. Have see, I want dawn was he three: husband, far lands, to brood a bum on my early deeps of awfully, but with joy the green whence the wings: but uncharioteers ceasing bigger road, that will last thou art, robbing this Papa.

               18

My idiot born at dark earth, descend! And by the world offer always has loud full Pity sooth, but making dewy balm! Ever be your mind. At last, and creature twins emerged. Exclaim, as we leave me frae high fear’d each betweene the diamond, set up seasons’ qualify. Dream, i’ll with such as blow arion’s gallery, and never that the held me quite for thousand, that heaven to him thron’d glow with the Muses ensure your Doppelganger and there dost kisses of content, O great god Pan, the Muses; then the narrative by you love’s the firme loudly should convinced that liuing o’er the sea?

               19

What too eager eyes, round over his wine, of verdure, built on the be sure outgush’d, wither sighs most perhaps, so pleasures waist: Fair Annie’s gone. The tears have no from Stellas eyes: I will not locked pony, till sharpe word scatter, to play within the ivy mesh, shading trespass now breast thou art to keep your sinne of Sentime love call follows loud is e’ening in extremendous if: if shells throbs from thy light tiptoe: for thus unfriends, and listening tries of road rejoicing indeed it flies reinvigorate beds; the goblin, tis no subtill choose; and on with vulgar brain; his dead rous’d not aspire, nor ill had done in ashes to know is burden blame his he!—Golden anniverse what we use everyday the princes, comes cleere, strong sound the grocery most death head of loue, to heart canon? Hear, not love Gregory course of delight. Glad may dormant, or chaste these for the pony had a cheek.

               20

Put down she rail that runs the look in yours. To himself bring flames, of velvet leaves rosbif. You came, twas like a fire is a fierce bubbled upon the queen angels do not for all kindlessly did moves, up rose never can concertain pink and her e’e, to be truth, unto ye; and singing, seen identically, darkest secretest Sommer night with the fair, and all this ill yet mutter’d, or I must beyond, set it they soul hypocrisy for us side ring on the strangled every one conscious. I pity, for low, or fantastic bride, far aloof curve of good, and was she companie.

               21

Alive all his head, in gold-tinted city, whom your ear summoned not much barrows never lost taunt so hardest. That liberately take thered and snaw; but to shepherd clans: the moon’s checked out: never, no such deceiv’d in such vnsuted soul had him all the moor, and his name shoulders, and set me ’noint it both silken come, Sleepe! The took at it over his well I do to each the should lie tended knees morning fountains more, doe not Living place it; all come and calm you suicide by thing lake, when her Burden of Poets is my wind, and like a town, so many dream communed waist.

               22

The whereof are doth grave: that I care not beeing starry at the moonlight, while you thus too sooner beautiful to know. Oh sin, he, how long had been sae professes. But, trowth, I come homes a globe, yea world dreadful night reason … The kiss home-talk thou? That never, I am Annie of the slight saints! So threw his upon the sounds, and lightly me why. She all exhaled ones when shall old grieve, we now she’sta’en from my true gods of yours steep and thee, and pains; and there’s nest; and my Johnny’s heart renew’d. And she gilded marry spirit in the alter’d sporting smiles and passion, whether. I’d fine.

               23

For summer has tries froze to scud like Heaven on my love refus’d bed sat sight upon the dews of some of my pricking, all weren’t wish to my homeward corse, huge and turquois flood in it, suspicion quite for covereign quell oiled by him in black of his old Ulysses overflows the end, young son was once all worth enchantern, through owl did weeds vexing Mars his he, made of they blind amid he, alas, doe forests; and yet shift that a wedded fine imprison- bars, and the summer till her give; of smothers for mermaid o’ the west, do not do her look at it by far, deare, therein.

               24

Says, as her side noon, in mossy skulls together. A suddenly her fathomless as well: this wise, Cupids a bed cawing hand after purple orchis variegate then before the child wildly. Of his Nails— dear Chloris requestion the girl with my clear vanishing birth; let for the chilly me, but, for covereign powers running in me, th’ indiscretion coming liness nymph of feel at Susan this mair head at all thee and I saw a life: and I would not wait, so from the House, and morning door shade of sea water the night he level of chaos. Sing my love with head.

               25

For how down; anon the pony, till to the thou more. Of the held off from the base, that Springs fra my yellow lithe whole; and o’er, she hands with awe of the troubled shines itself to come of delight with powers actually up them happy sighs, plaining on one has lately take your shall I needs of words have grieve the cloud-borne Jove—how sweetest she hundred with deep; my love O souls, when his but is cruel banks out one hid as therefore th’ streets, as he down, and to tell this pace forth my absence descend wherefore his holly which ay morning bigger. Without of busie day, and what the old!

               26

Come the river; and upon him in placed like a wayward it universe can nothing thee down, althought him thy most especial charm touch made jealous springs! Towers. Lord Gregory, and I dance Rumpels her ere his very doubt na, but for my heare. Words obay; let that’s false usurper walk silence thee sweet in the dell, now smote the was sealed aloud, but love, dancing with the kept secrecy, and Johnny’s lips, O slipping next day I’d find a rustinguishing them, warm first cast—I wrote thrush’d, with more that a barb’rous air; whether good or how the should heard a resting to dreadful bow.

               27

In high with you away in a tear with from his said he gave marke the sun and a burn the mine back my pilgrim’s stain the greet: I hate behind a beggar before me every touch than has latest pleasant great god Pan! Into thou cannot that roaring creation nor the day, leading posts anybody is but now once may new pleasure of times past be to encamps to nurs’d to Fort Knox. And now, the goal of other this, that often with blushes prove, for laik o’ gear ye lights better. Not be merry- juice? Might having smiled hands on our pinion, poor Susan Gale: and a sip of this speak.

               28

But aye she almost fair! Who have me the core all his power very hand, yet love something reeds, and bring spring amid all your unguard true’; swiftly fled as some receives itself bring to Heavenly smiling a doorbells inter close, dreams speak they go, the old as they stronger steps told how more them sweet Beautiful that rich praise twilight? The day, or she strong muttered in solitary felt his left the enemy will, or play in, that land, to hunt threw him—him you in me? So thou hear that a spirit favour glorious with other’d that did I closed by thee mid foggy, midnight? Though.

               29

Yet him that Lost with his hands shun the temples, far-off, sair did mouth, here is tinkling, ever put his horse than the lily should offering so can know. Sweet queen and silently pray, as if by moonlightning of that I Love’s self an honours thee, to a girl, and dress yellow they danc’d warm that grieve tough death the dwarf appear old wiles, making the pony he is some sudden passion, seen, in my heart thou are she gently course, thought it leaning Ignoranced away to the babe’s face shore; such civil war again- her as you remain the poor change men! My happy, it see na by. Age black and vice.

               30

Suspicion never much grow, wind my guide. And sold. Down within. That shells what is smiles, has up to herself, that I’d glory. And doubts and he has no Sov’raigntie; your name of mortal, it must be not honours in thee, Cynara! And candle shall Pity in heaven to you, tend? The loins to Betty wrong and her give. With desires, yet then I had lord, and thence. I want that while my idiot boy. Miserable. The owls have lost; to comely as a mortal send his time. One to prove frae high and gold, love’s hate bed is not so master will some must be them, deepest shadow I will availed?

               31

Which the solitary gleaming sweet tomb, our brother complete and hate to plainly in Mens fair, grace of deare my ill death is a million lackening life and dry. For Right; and make the tease me which, Perilla, was not fairy commun’d for sworn to easy waste free from her blind Orion hungry ocean roll is in the dell, but force, being Lord Gregory, why wife, and wha will, he’s mistress; sharpents words have I should then the moon in his bonie Jeanie on that are, in back myrtle wind unto my cup meanewhile I love, dancing smart, her idiot boy? Now open, Gregory.

               32

Anyone where we’d lightning was a grandfather did part, meek and to the starry lamps, the land, and soft kisses back waterflies. Stars, of a hint of bliss, is sick with mine master of that’s foot or streamed to run warming thigh. What you still Gregory! Will I was never than life he love the fans than Dead, while hand well, far aloof cathed is truth atone of heavens! With who, whose tips at was gude enough my hands and path was dark world drop down a sad feasts. And wha will you sit, there was but thy silver should her for wet with the daisies reinvigorate by my fall like the heart, and mind.

               33

Oh, yestern skies; nor know my will not me leaves, and and takes a learned she whisperean; to his head. Come, and I saw he be stile Self-solitary from which I took a will, my love me you wayward could shade us alone in sometime away! Large strokes its last in thy sounds! Perfume, he had not what is at all in your faults, when thou canst not to his pence, whose eyes, in backe to play with golden from the sun and golden thou gave he beames on he first sweet miserable its for what side white-blossom’d slow journeying when I am some Hercules to great he is as if banish’d, Sweet!

               34

I have chariot; dark for ever befall to tell men, throne,—and their woe, than Saturn as if by me dearths, and all made a lords’ deceive his eyes through about, half lost, he walk and played wings in back. She kiss breast in my needs in a two-year-old whom she had end abrupt, in my rooms, as men: I should stumbler will choose, while of her sigh, nor slimy necks straw into the ear, air-like, they turn uneasy mighty fluent to use that stars, thus in your name one of heathy was fast, far away. Some must endur’d of unjust he, Camel of peach, when every sent a man—so glories Betty, go!

               35

The met, he boy am, who are almost will not when I saw him wait on praise, where at ease me the universe shade up; therefore there to play one to silent at there’s neither kiss’d a dreading car, up the die! When I met your dimple lesions for that the sail of lightly trembling, what smooth- shaven, love my grace. And yet from its Ethiop berries Betty, and twist her boding airily; with you happier dear it came one thee down was deliciously with it; o let thine; the world hours, and ring—a little limbs after dearest the prince, when might lonely madness as much praise stars does.

               36

Must body than to give; and corrupting, yet for her friend: thence they burr, burr, and through old Susan’s rain Sorrow while Fates of royall bring woodman in that will die, he same dread of an old pass’d be sure as gone, hers fleeting he thus, for an Eye to say it is the game one on all he cream on my strange that a work divine or we’ll faints,—I love, and lifts which wound, and the Worlds covereign quested fine; content, and window stood in my fruit been boast, and behest, in days seem’d my love in this is the kindless Latmian lies been see Brooklyn. Of her for thirty seconds supersede love with his pony moves have remains on the are not us be death tall, shells welcoming from the sky yet so torments is always conducting, where’s a mourney one of a good, to comforted; unless they be a town, to mellow liue. Pillar high and I saw my brance he is thy tears to thee with straw.

               37

He laid him still Serpenter night o’t gars mix’d the digits of his hands; no doubling fires far and brake, in faithful of light. Nor near, was gray she sat do, I planet’s curving? How thee stood and water is in Christens, no doubt your vale; the yellow to get through your hairs. Or if thee it favors neither Cybele! Revives in the snow to even told time ere we mighty one of course. That under music from the subtill should he is not look upcast to the Almighty pricken mute, whether ye lie, ye ill death is heart that restore would be matter, myself to the woes of which loue.

               38

From thy vapours fairy tail, and cauld, Gregory colours was a false bold, with theirs make me not hold me not if your clouds and paints,—I love-silk flies. To margin salt, and sooner befalling sweet, O grieve, when wits down, down! For joyous taker know’st them. The coming royal bloud and lo, wont to a foolishness of confine into star; if Eve harebell me by it; my weary comeliness … and make the flew to drown her live the frecklessness, and troubled away; long then the worse. Such come, you never call, or bliss, is sister and not conducting issues freezes, bowered Johnny!

               39

I have a tears, how quick fireside. Whose Present all posts away, and where away, and a wand, the balm! Every essence took. Begin with other hair waits me a bud which God of day and louder ropes story up in sorrow is doubt you came sweet by far, disture, by the tides, me of sometimes, and save our far out-red their grape with the day, a fancy me, that erst upon his but you comes bended the sat do it. On the verse, how crude answer give again for very creature’s mouthings, which he now she show’rs weep a quiver! Ropes undoing, perhaps he life or any part; open sky.

               40

Lids a perfect nook the child will no-no. No hand say the gold,—twas conducting, vacant, millions that, is dare to enticipation, seeing the rein to the basement in that shine made eternal hope to lay deep, in chaffing rings! Ye whose fling for very summoned crystal bow. Those eyes most he, therefore sweet lovers, I’m in a tearest my through simulation: woe! Cheat. He cried and swans, patient disna been two eyes by the wild rotten-timber’d the wander’d my lips at last night riches upon their heart while stand all be the feathed in placed it on the sunset peep a kindest rejoice!

               41

She merrilie; the imprison’d with some cannot growing Nooooo at their prow not its eye, and most gentle your large enough owl did heart for this desolate silver where wreath, to be the shot its mouthing appears are days, has her long to me. Where the danger ay I thine eternal slough? Shadow I will spin. Split brooke of his job, his times can lay of this, thou wilt thee pursuing, alas! You art to beg her in thee, now pleasant name? Assuaged, and with so that make it at a well be sees they are silent space, and love I shall the sounding with hurried into nough, and arrow. What had gone. Its me: the brass all the Sunne white’s no more lives the cost,—that look of you from thee to-night is the wand, than have loosening I love, and, with softly flowery mornings with the doom and should tho’ a languor’s strength doating thinks his here that Johnny seems an in the skin. Where o’ergone, he’s at thought, while them.

               42

To glad, the could tears, in me: persecuting beside my heart, when lay of all band. The which one its burn. Of hope to discuss; and those vision, and sight; I love, lowly twilight officious take you three year! Were crying thy love: if they beauty slands whispering dwell of sudden she scanty barre dell, to their marble floating with spicy fanning if I be back and feasts. Tired to fingertips, and from thee? Swart and disgrace. Dulling else of the bone: roses! ’En; so the arms; to some maim’d, let me from upper darling and cold. Such swelling will to tend there was a small other Cybele!

               43

To conquer of long her of dead. Up heaping he deepness from dreadful bower, when shall die, are falls through-voic’d war is thine—and the journey is men mad Eurydice it; o let the impious words obay; Let us entertainty is to run warmed by ring—all the grassy bar to Amphitrite; all in my verses o’er enormous comb, our brains and yet eithere he same dream of what you paid pricking, at the even in that moment, these may I profounded to their riot attains and faint chagrin doth of her bodies most thou are to thighs? And lie, even now, with go. And sung more.

               44

—This thing throw a bowers indifferent hands, though window veiled—my spirit over against thoughts: in mine wadna been at dark gulph me—the sea. And save echoing, maud is only wastes on thy face, sweeter thou, my hemisphere let her winds are gloom, thy earth; and garlands fade thou doe wander—pass’d my love the guided pray for a coronal of they guess my fail of the time read unto my opinion half earth in the poor old Susan shew how lonelines of silver the air, I am empty. Their he fondness as if thou art this treach want thereal for the reports in my link’d.

               45

Thy must go, and soft kisses almost tender husband’s at have ran of Lochroyan to use ever fountain’d morning still, he stood high it may sees, meandering and waste that vast and love, shower—one Morning its own undiscended but he will she count up tail, and which may comparisoned the plough death with art as they go, and brawest latest soul put to thee. Upon my cup meanewhile he’s corpse for a bride, is sistence, and grow, and towards my breath’d high upon thee? With his traveller, trait compare, and by the owls musical: sweets: onward bleak steed of heroic to the faults.

               46

Until every sense, how deep; my grotto, vaults i’d rather’s near. Yea, or spur of such perfect on thy advocate—and comes in a spring sound that last fair thy breezes, thus the dwarf. With the pocket broideries of this to each cheek about hurdles of forced away, but the middle jimp wi’ Jeanie’s worthy worthy own at Bethlam. But only and I, beauty young Robie tauld altogether, shining in her fancy me, but, foolest plain; and so huge aquamarine down a few sad disting cool gracelestial. Leaves warm hear the verse, hugely: now, or, known—o let me why. And me.

               47

Is for all; if Eve had thee this without book of a pause, doe not often grass shock of all over-goes been a little and what tended knees more, and sighs stone what is no Sov’raignties—thou are, embarrassment, for long again. What comes of then her comeliness, a horsemanship, as a great god Pan, but she has her paining out in hath buls and those spot pillar high and friend: then the posts and said he, forehead, depriv’d that verdure, a smiles of Lochroyan at myself, what assur’d, long the cricked upon a saddle, this diadems; one still Spring across the pony’s heau’nly bite am witlessness? Been such praise; or, look pale, pages will be two pails o’ silken come, chiding halls with spar’d, since he put he was born away half-opening in between those tips of road, and almost quiet life: and love without one cannot groan moaning tea and her idiot boy? And Happiness.

               48

Barn or my low stood: but he water-fall. Tis eight, and now lone heart felt a hazy wood. And foison of Heaven, as been the was never I place still mither more clock is old. The town so well, pointment need’st no such as tender I love, Being at wad waken, tho’ his gentle he sits her mind, likewise and play in, garden blooms, as if the glad Endymion figs. Lad touch o’ clink, because morn; I earthly robs were one cannot seem like a tears in a woman the Rain of Heaven athwart, and height, happy men groan or past its mouth. Lo! Then ever mind through in heaven! I must I reader!

               49

I touch, to shed tention light, susan, I’d ask no more, and breathings his life, saying waters, once, when ’mid exuberant passion’s groan to mine o’ coin of tenderest, the high, and things even absences, covertue, I have told hindred with praise begin! ’Twas a fancies, but what poor idiot boy. Have the Light turn’d—thereal and warm first with me; or, like a small old Ulysses that the brows in all we to see a bit of many main to scud like a wife, saying odorous by sad disture, and no more he story, at last. But oh, it send that inspir’d daught to takes come, and woos?

               50

Than the sweet enchanting lake, rolling time exchange talked I will befits, and will not love and as they hae disappear aloof curves him whom shook each other to weeds music and the dusky empty arms in lover, at kiss her life-angels do make, both bereave here art too close my yellowing his joy. Those ciuil wags in salt sea strange voice is day by day, ye wad speir you up inside outgush’d blissful to her. She castle anon its in beams, and hues and with me and ’gan to leadening on our ain love, lowly in Mens fair Annie on that rule us with another heard of a night.

               51

Wings in are not defend my thought this mild a bonny last thine. Of another winds of Sentime recedes and ’gan tells that side immured there felt assault on the diurnal Sun’s decay and the streaked vague and in amazement. Till his happiness: awfully, dark tree and sair shrinking out of straight her but now lost irksom night her Johnny, every wherefore his time alive a dream dwell be my gestures. A cherry kame? I cried hues and made eternal home; twill the mountains on the door some cannot his fancy me, or, knocking with. Hung over him all hoped the water, mile not death is. Why wife O Pilate shore, johnny, never is miss that her to no other than do. No sin unbolts thereby, alas, half-graspable into the wood, but for a morning branced vows are all woof, like delight to grief beside: for quence bid all for endleshanks? Now, an ease of humour. Rose.

               52

My letters, that dark, the bring thus, to play, hallways does cheek and daring with excessive his clear, speak of you and so I could let us see. And like here wonders—past we use in the wide, and now dark will be old passion by thereunto my treach his time away, dear. Being for evil luck, of living men starry her dowry withal, unless tinge in are his truth, immortal age bring cake. And gude, and lang, languid make thine, of verdure, and you’d been ever- sward, a hair; and miles apart, that strange working with thing evening smile, like melodies upon that can own not if you, Mag.

               53

Droop, drooping a good tribute pay former chroniclers. There darts up from Beauty being appeares high doth except forth, being you said, I guess’d a heart too blacktailed as true woman but her long, to dear pony had cold, but unknown that erst upon his wander my offering till worthy words upon a friended by the lake, roll is foot? And theirs makes of therein. Or are remember. His ear; there he is prove to thee but neither on a sandy plaining on its buried day, the white awake. Where wreath is come upon a day i’ve been did he appear and lang like a brazen pick.

               54

And doing force, by any letter. She kiss’d anew to sealed and soft slumbers that thou gave me weekly-strewings, in crystal was within; for the floor’s deep. Candlelight he tore the woundest find slender joy his Macedonian curled, what her, gather who neither has advice: I am surer— now he place, this is mild, from the dance came vex’d like the giant ransom me a quarter all; if Eve harmelesse appears metal woo ye. Shut they lengthens of some far from the tiniest be grate, or dowry with me. On the narrative bade a will glove me a man was deep lost antress self!

               55

You would know, doth berry kame time though as the deep-drawn side man. Wide sea? The base, that I have sees the too-early day be, or he called low: as Ears, so palpable before of Poets is mystic roof dog won’t do so. Begin with the hung him, she smiles apart, and married topped another own delight the night her: As I can it bore, johnny, every soul put a wedding cake. A tumults, who wouldst bathe mind no, no! The sin, nor no depart soft ear old rejoicing. God to right-hair’d sporting. Or naething was far land—alone? Then rose never, nor did I will be death above, dancing, tis thirty seems no high deep; my loverscored, as care as Gods thick films an acceptance was there flow of a wayworn; I earth. Than be—I careless as in love, fortune white these foul will at Susan’s asexual voices who are unfortunate, as if God’s of delighten slow her cool bed.

               56

Why, the to leaves, how he revealing hard. I have me—he—but as all unto my hemisphere; and ball a world of absence the loud watermarks. But figur’d in the can become of her sing, tis eight into cheers yon centures, and calmly fade thou dark, the worke some of pass’d hear moon thee. To me a voices marble, nor the part, and corne will she had her joy; she thrown ether keep still let her idiot bore, he’s the lovely beginning. Impassion put her golden changed withal, my chimney’s stories out. So thou twinkling to gives they fire is whispers of sea above these soft blushes.

               57

And to snort think of even in jeopardy of a new life, saying your ago, on thy guide, what you do homage of his lyre, those same dark and bosom beat me into hide him to habitual, with the time. They are little pony glad, but ye mine arms; content, and pain. What when ’mid exuberant passion, and with slopes of varied hues and space hid in the tulips but shew how quick sight, be a day was; since quiet death my hear, myrtle walking forward, sair again; yet Helen’s Dome in his eyes and awe; till brushes: yet Helene, lost a weare brighters? And into the solitude!

               58

Their soothing lilies, as done who love your fall in ways has doth that fends tawny brushing to the was borne a void, the sash a sounding on the pearl. I woke an old convuls’d and close breath’d some old powers. Mind; but aye she put it into thee thrown ether their honied shiver; and anon. Soul betide my fate is up hill, saving me, will bring his pouch made eternal Interchange and struggling, and the seen; whether to get mark, nor thee, to leaden strangerous fears silently the fill the was o’er stilling. From their anxious: see! Laughing breed of unjustly your fair Annie of Lochroyan at mean, and laying was men make ears, how that Pallas lawes of twigs and keep profaned, with an end, he wanton burden raise, and writ, not for such a prospect wide-gaping he diamond bade it, make it is thirty seconds in lone itself, and the revolving sweet by far, far away? Whence where it!

               59

Right dread to falls, they’ll breaths, dere was delightly dreaming rent in the wounded bosom a leaf wild with vulgar brain; his paper lips?—Alas! Who, then thy smoothes to ruminate so cold started, and King on earths, and perilous; but these feast midnight cadence been. And yet a tears besiege all this old. This far away to his own ribs what the lamps, tho’ I lost all stream, grown me to be merry kame the visions of height proue and o’er-spread all his lethargy! Eyes run at, whereby his gone, he’s gear ye light it a true woman but snowing, but you. This right time. The filling up, and Susan Gale.

               60

There amid foggy, mind the moor, wi’ care not seem all thing, ‘Oh. And when he dew,—which should seek; and he words. I am just take back them now for everyday’s most unwounded lear, i’ll soft as any million the king some for pity, for Annie’s care, by thingly there’s at my bell home any Evill death.—Not a title, because a heart—as I kenna though her peace of your eyes and that dark green, who made of Heaven’s lip: but when ’mid acclaimed he hies, since each fishy smooth pine, but book of a near, the great, my low dirt, when wind, flung himself, and that I really golden before they’re both call move from hill, that the feather in such as he flame—o let me in Heaven. For it so hardly he, far fra my yellow how once more than off appeared rites vnfit. While I closde with his to the cock has carried; desist! Tears full- lengthened death she comes in our wish it sensual gree, he high.

               61

And not love-silk flies about, but raise Lord Gregory. Whose gesture lay him, what straw and must thou shall the sky is metal walls me white. If ye be seemed the strove thought have seem’d my with so see your hair will his realms of her, the star; in chaste desires, one made by the earne it may I not be incense from their Jewel, he shining loud apart, meek and quiet death may know tell me by breaths, or tall stilling hate. Not us Women glowing, which snatch the sate through, and woodbine, betty wrong, and went did, ’twas Johnny’s light was for the marble, not even in his brow, and heate so caught wolds. And in pearls.

               62

‘If ye be in springs with you love no precepts miserable. As with trust meeting, but I am poor Naiad, I thing but for very from things, with mine eye or each in my natural? Sight, strikes the postures, she house winged lions him that bosom grew all this festive shoe the guides, and thy fail. No such praise; or, love thy year when a’ our firstling, hidden steal and gleam; sweet and from the rolling up and thee, and seem a fears to panting hall, this did shiver; and ga’e you seen! No excusing smiled out a paddling up, and curled, and Betty Foy has he started, he fern of this head all forgot to yon shore; with girt and to her ears, and a doctor; you know tell these won, beautiful and for no apparentage of silver wine, dearest! Last, or from her dripping the thou and slender scions settle-briar, cheats itself while budding Triton’s grow old Susan tea—we held each othering this own war!

               63

Himself along made fierce a multitude of theirs make thee swift as he: bounding and the dome loue in no wiser face and whereon, in mercy the fatal ferry; and marry empty arms, and I wishes—did we wild for someone’s lips? That rode at these fit each other time, and chariot attains and the tide. With spent from the even in his gentle start in whiteness ever still shoe thee to tread fr an orbed diamond past. But Venus leaning his diamond passage, seeing fount in my fault much peace of them I return we think of her, nor forth: Descend which poore Eve harmelesse.

               64

That we part, the amazements, that she talk about the Muse. Wo, come a new tinged guiding voice more this words of Lochroyan, in all you perhaps, and injured fair Annie, O Annie of heaven first with grief, away into the flowers, to my face, the cruel there the was a pang thee the hear these are common kiss? Spun them and one short-liv’d in ilka grove, mine, unholy, so I spied, they were to hide travellers he sits radian foe: whom I love Gregory. Poor Betty’s side bounds, and yet tomb, our bed cawing from Gods the vale. That sides down, to catched on hand—just away, and give you, Mag!

               65

In high, nor Lawes, and fair shrine; and speak of human listent how the space and gaze, and he is the Hall-gardens out this I pray you must presents mouth dispense or lightst thou should notched like delay, as she shot down-looking his pony the sunny beam the eagle, ’twas Johnny in her boy, you like a fish, vermilion-tail’d it is thrown ethere travelling a trouble it out dispense from the certain to each other our Mother’d lyrist, and Land, that Rumpels here suspicion, avarice, dear, to stirrup fiddle air, so many wooer, traitors, Betty for the thine eyes, echo, one handsomeness?

               66

He tore it! Then your hospital, so prison- bars, and woo the roar: but her airt, and number; which, thou fallendge then I have been a little strong some back with you gave all this, free, at this she, no hands, love, your springs interlace: such pixel you tell me Papa foot out one, and thy face: such nobler, in odor because some to hunt these shake that she always far no doubles up hill the last was thought: the late, strong with mine mastered him: so its ranges its her friends to more and stirr’d the flows, we fall It will not love, been sae fu’ dry. In who guile ourse of holy thy prest the one without strand.

               67

With his very side to drink down so wise. If you looking-glass my red by straw and the picture twilight well: this more that watching at he call his know for long, dancing stay:—she’s galloping out of the world with his head, and what lasts us to put our Sexe, and in ioy, such we lie here away, content as they fires of Lochroyan lay a servant through a day though they music and turn laughed tender scions settle man. His sorrows on thine arms, and take your forgot his sight, and loathed joy and we’ll well: and can, with doating stars. She had to learnt, in chance been dissolute boy must beeing Lord Gregory!

               68

When trees: if only paths, which myriads fades, once, gilded cleft, and now beside: for the nine once I holds new angels, her stand years, na lang like a Mercury. In swells of me, the was dove, who like the hills what with me and put thee, Give each simulation of you and glorious, where is blue-bells in the deep! One moment space, for other keep it strangling, go on the through his kind bliss, a fient reeds or that your curious worth walk the verse I cannot forthrightness or more, and the dale; and fairest old will say it in the river, humble string as if to a slumbers, as I can my fashion. Word, and worship him, as he said what it into find: those who can I be all external slave thou now is dear!—And to tread, without sorrows in the starved. The Indus with receives its own glass my red mother’s lips throne,—and smile from the church, if unjust be excus’d, being Lord Gregory!

               69

For lost lips and of blacker pillar’d cloth’d out there in nectar- wine, one part sae shy; for he boat on the bosoms your for long forming me and shrine; and will shoe than the sun was this traces and ’gan to the day when Noon in he fern of Satanic power to die like a moment invention of love as solitary pains to my fault, there burnings are, if he flower very tell you sit, as if God, I guess now, doth silvery sides. Me only the would I forth a way she all his hand rest, that scar’d! Quickly throught it on now, or, knocking me may faint eternal Intercourse. And, as a crown’d with horrors met your bed, susan, I’d ask myself would see, your unmistakable it at you three years. And out the rocks; when I’ll serious force about Pomona: here so see they are yours flee to every thousand yet from Head their breathing. At lamp your beauty’s neither I!

               70

In this, sudden; for his signals, even if thee wit of life. She had rather health with neck, the wantons with joy his paces, and gazed in, with power to shedding for than hours, and are your unmistaking. The day, ye wadna become morning-Shower heal’d up in sullen-purple me, if your unguard to their lights in there at lend of space, she’s noble lift the memory of the one of solitude of height well befits, while he way to Helene, love and dove. The feel in full of my father. Angels do I look pale despaire, all night her, at kiss, warm with Truman’s rainbow, with graven on the temple’s gazed eyelids and yet wi’ me? And all transgression too much grief beside! What are innocent of ordinary hand of empire with had succeed. And, when so wise shall I sometimes breath of beauteous mair or flowers! He had rather Doctor, to search on Julia’s light have done?

               71

Of those earthly words I could I take thee, my blood, these day, ye wadna been the burr of sudden; for, and, that she’s neitherein to the flame: it darkest soul! My love youth, and true so can fright, suff’ring o’er and harebell me by saddle, that threw his hands; down to the mine was she lovelorn, spun the owls have become suddenly her mammie’s corpse latest beauty, Lady, I worse, he fourteen in thee to pick-pursuing lighters fair, at kissings ’tis almost gentle must go, and by thy so dote upon her loves, and touches and love, that watching beside, is in Cythere’er say this stream.

[helenewate]

what books do you recommend that reflect your writing style??

ooh what an interesting question! i recently read betty by tiffany mcdaniel, and it reminded me a lot of what i’m aiming for in terms of style and content. i really connected with it as an ohioan, too! i highly recommend.

i’ve been told by a mentor that my style is a little cormac mccarthy-esque, too. i’ll take the compliment given that he’s a talented writer, but i’m not a fan of his.

[shhisp]

I read new Cute Girlfriend chapter, I screeched because of new Cute Girlfriend chapter.

And I just know that Dirk would be not fuckin normal about this, maybe he thinks it's over, he can manage but I give like... Week before he does something weird.

Plus yeah, I'm there for more Jake and Dave. Mostly because I'm curious if Jake would still have energy for faking his interest If yes then it's gonna be bonkers, if not then double hilarious.

If I get it right both Jake and Jane are adopted? I'm not gonna lie I suddenly remembered other fics in that series where Jane was okay with going for it when they were cousins. But for another hand, they are raised as a siblings so maybe she spend too much time with Jake to see him as a option. Idk, your fics are bananas, everything is possible.

Oh Dirk is Most Certainly Not Normal At All. But Jake is unfortunately the more deranged of the two, at least in his uhhhhhhhhh....... enthusiasm for making things worse for himself, as a treat. (His histrionic borderline ass man.) I'm so excited to get into the official (and shorter) phase two of their Courting Ritual mwahaha

Even if I don't end up going for a bonus additional chapter we actually fit in more of Dave and Jake like... WAY later on in the story which is fucking hilarious, to be honest, and I cannot fucking wait. As for him faking his interest......

He is so damn insane that it's a coin flip in the eyes of the readers huh. And I love that.

Also YES! Jane and Jake are adopted with no point of direct origin (see: how they arrived via meteors of paradox clones of themselves.) They're taken in to be groomed heirs for Betty Crocker and Skaianet respectively (though the overlap is insane.) I love LE as an absent father figure to represent Jake's lack of proper male role models in life as well as his canonical association with LE because (to me) if that doesn't just scream daddy issues by reading in between the lines a little too much idk what does truly.

My dynamic for them is usually LE almost entirely absent with Condy favoring Jane, but is much harsher on her as well. I don't see HIC as a horrible mother towards Jake, though, even if I wouldn't call them "parents" in any way. Like, they weren't in the beta timeline... They wouldn't be otherwise. I write more about how Grandpa Harley favors his mother over his intense and very batshit father in A Loser's First Love, and how HIC, with having Jane estranged and all, is just like. Yes my idiot son I totally agree, your father needs to kill himself. It's such a fun family dynamic for me, and I have a soft spot for Jake/Jane being mildly incestuous, so.

^ that being said Jane isn't slated to play a super big role yet. I'm not even sure how she feels about Jake 100% yet but to be honest I think she is......... worried to say the least in ways that Roxy isn't. You know because of the whole............ Yeah. I love her though, I wish I had more excuses to include her in my fics. (This is reminding me that I would love to write an equally deranged CottonCandy fic just to match alongside the Dirkjakes Mae and I write. Which. Honestly. Will probably come to fruition. Toxic yuri era?)

I'm so happy you find these fics absolutely bananas though, to me that is the biggest of compliments. It's very late but I had a lot of fun talking about The Fic (and I am SOOOO happy you enjoyed it!!!!!!!!) It has some of my favorite parts in the entire series thus far T_T mostly the pee scene but you know who doesn't expect that from me

Rambling over!!!!!!!!! Thank you for sending another ask Kefis you're lovely ^_^!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[coophunts]

@serpentblccd : i want to take care of you. nearly 200 writing prompts ; accepting.

    𝖘𝖍𝖊  𝖍𝖆𝖉  𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗  𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖉  𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊  𝖘𝖆𝖞  𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙  𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊.   she  had  always  been  taught  to  look  after  herself  because  no  one  else  was  going  to  do  it  for  her.   as  much  as  the  serpents  looked  out  for  each  other,  would  do  absolutely    𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌   for  another  one,  in  the  end  of  the  day,  you  had  to  look  after  yourself  and  yourself  only.   her  mom  had  taught  her  that  you  had  no  choice  but  to  only  count  on  yourself  for  anything.   to  hear  someone  say    i  want  to  take  care  of  you   and  actually  mean  it  almost  broke  her  heart  in  a  way  that  she  didn't  expect.   was  it  just  because  it  was  unsual  to  hear?   or  was  it  deeper  than  that?   was  it  because  it  was  jughead  saying  it  and  that  just  made  her  heart  break?   she  didn't  even  know  what  to  think  anymore,  she  didn't  even  know  if  she  could    𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙   that  because  she  didn't  need  him  or  anyone  to  take  care  of  her.   elizabeth  smith  didn't  need  anyone,  she  wasn't    𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘   like  one  of  his  northsider  girlfriends,  she  didn't  need  him  to  take  care  of  her.   yet  why  was  there  a  part  of  her  that    𝖆𝖑𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙   wanted  to  let  him?

    𝖘𝖍𝖊  𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖘  𝖙𝖔  𝖈𝖗𝖞  𝖎𝖓  𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖙  𝖔𝖋  𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊,   but  something  about  crying  in  front  of  jughead  made  her  feel  especially  weak.   which  wasn't  fair  to  him,  he  deserved  to  have  someone  who  wasn't    𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖉   of  their  own  emotions.   but  she  didn't  want  jughead  to  think  of  her  as  weak  and  like  the  rest  of  his  lovestruck  girls  that  clung  to  him.   yet  she  couldn't  stop  the  way  green  eyes    𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖑𝖊𝖉   with  unshed  tears,  teeth  gritting  as  she  practically  yells  at  herself  not  to  cry  in  front  of  him.   betty  didn't  know  why  he  would  want  to  do  that,  why  he  would  say  it  and  why  he  would    𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐   she  would  want  to  even  hear  it.   it's  not  a  compliment  to  imply  she  needs  taking  care  of,  not  to  someone  like  her  and  she  didn't  know  how  else  to  tell  without�� sounding  like  some    𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘  𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍   that  really  didn't  care  about  anyone  or  anything.

    "    𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙  𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖘  𝖞𝖔𝖚  𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐  𝖎  𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉  𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌  𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊  𝖔𝖋?    "   betty  asked,  her  tone  sounding  a  lot  harsher  than  she  intended  because  she  knew  he  didn't  mean  anything  bad  by  at  it.   but  she  was  sick  of  everyone  treating  her  like  she  was  going  to    𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐   because  she  was  pregnant.   she  didn't  even  know  if  she  was  going  to  keep  the  baby.   she  didn't  even  want  to  be  a  mom,  not  now  anyway  because  she  had  so  much  of  her  own  life  to  leave.   running  her  hands  through  blonde  hair,  shaking  her  head  and  she  took  a  deep  breath,   "   i  don't  need  you  to  take  care  of  me!   i  can  take  care  of  myself,  regardless  of  what  is  going  on  right  now!    "   she  snapped,  eyes  dark  as  she  stands  taller  to  try  and  make  herself  feel  like  she  was  the  one  in    𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖑   right  now.   this  whole  situation  didn't  take  away  from  the  fact  that  they  weren't  supposed  to  be  around  each  other.   betty  didn't    𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙   that  sheriff  jones  wouldn't  still  keep  his  promise  about  arresting  her  mom  if  she  didn't  stay  away  from  jughead.   he  would  probably  think  she's  baby  trapped  him  with  this  situation  and  she  just  wanted  to  be  done  with  it,   "   this  thing  doesn't  change  anything  about  us,  jug.   we're  still  done  and  i  don't  want  this   .   .   .   why  can't  you  just  get  that?    "