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#I WILL NO LONGER LISTEN TO THE MUSIC I ONLY LISTENED TO TO APPEASE OTHER PEOPLE
rocknrollinbitchforu · 11 months
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ugh i love fixing the things about me that i changed for someone else's approval once I no longer care about them in the slightest. catharsis at it's absolute finest
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bmodiwrites · 2 years
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You're A Rich Girl
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: I thought about accidental sugar daddy Eddie & couldn't get it out of my head once it was there. I hope you guys don't mind a swift little change in pace! Word Count: ~8K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Other than that, it’s pretty tame! Summary:
After an unfortunate mishap with a childhood friend leads to a silent but cutting fight with his father, Steve cuts his loses and heads to the city with Robin in tow. It's there that Steve meets Eddie Munson, who is older and mysterious and too adorable for his own good. While their relationship develops, concerns and what seems like envy come into play. Read to find out what happens when the look of their relationship from the outside is brought up. When there's money involved, is anything actually what it seems?
Or - an accidental sugar daddy Eddie fic!
Read it on AO3 here
His path to the music store is slow and steady. He’s so used to the snail-like nature of Hawkins that city life is still something that catches Steve off guard. People move around him so fast that it’s hard to keep up. After being there for a few months, Steve’s decided that he’s going to keep on moseying from one place to the next – he refuses to pick up the pace just to appease the crowd around him. If nothing else, he’s determined not to get sucked up into the hustle and bustle of always having somewhere to be. Hawkins wasn’t always the best to him but Steve’s at least glad to have learned that seemingly important lesson. His thoughts are heavy and distracting to the point that Steve is surprised to find himself outside the record store. He’s unsure of where the time went but happy to be grabbing ahold of the unique brass nob that grants him entry to Steve’s own version of heaven.
Walking in, Steve takes a long breath. There’s nothing like the smell of old records. He lets the nostalgia of flipping through his collection at home settle over him. The warmth in his chest that bubbles up is one of the main reasons Steve likes this place – for some reason, he feels the most at home amongst the dusty vinyl. Beelining towards the stacks, Steve lets himself get lost in all of the music. Every now and again he picks out a record to take to the small turntable in the back. He plugs in the headphones and gets lost in his own little world for a while. He’s halfway through a Tears for Fears album doing exactly that when his focus all of the sudden changes with a small touch. Steve doesn’t know how important that tap on the shoulder is but his breath catches anyway. The person on the other side of the gesture is beautiful and unique and saying something that Steve definitely can’t hear.
Steve’s quick to yank off the headphones to give the gorgeous man before him his utmost attention. He manages to catch the tail end of a mumbled question, though he’s distracted enough to say “come again?” in an absent voice. It’s been a while since Steve’s been struck speechless – Nancy Wheeler seems like some sort of distant dream now that the world’s shifting on its axis again.
“I asked what album you were listening to – you looked so blissed out and in your own world, I had to find out what musical creation made you that way.” The man blushes as he speaks – the red only works to highlight the rich brown of wide eyes that Steve can’t seem to look away from. They’re hypnotizing, almost like they’re dragging Steve in the longer they look at each other. Steve’s still not functioning well because it takes a rugged smirk on the stranger’s face to jumpstart him back into gear.
“Oh, uh – it’s Tears for Fears. Their Songs from the Big Chair album.” To drive home the point, Steve picks up the dust cover and wiggles it suggestively. “It’s too expensive for me to take home so I get my fix while I’m here.” Steve’s not really sure why he says that, though the words practically fall out of his mouth easily enough. He’s unused to sharing that much of himself after months of bottling every thought, feeling, and fear up and stashing them away to never be dealt with ever again. For some reason, the brunette stranger in front of him makes something within Steve uncoil. He tries not to dwell on it as the man’s smirk turns into a genuine smile.
“I should have known you’d be an Everyone Wants to Rule the World kind of guy.” The man’s voice is rich and confident, filled to the top with something Steve wants so badly to cling to. “You can’t account for taste.”
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libidomechanica · 2 months
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“Ah, take the”
A ballad sequence
               1
She spring, except. Ah, take the winter raiment,     and she wander interested, drive one, or Wrath consume us all, we two with bright;     the fallen dumb. Everyone stars, I would sleep. That old man. Cupid is winter. Helpless     you love, how long, and now she can discrete
you up the Sky, where I, while yet he sights are     repeat that is’t you mean! By Fame, there are only my best juice, mething is bells his heat     this by the rose and swore—but when she upheld the words, amidst the bane of sorrow like     a monumental feelings I tried
to the self-same pond? The law. And this sorrow strike     are holds any guilty with his not a True Light flew your lives, take som pleas’d, your bidding     I will be; but a minutes apartment when I kiss’d him—to his horse? Hear again I     am now in a new Marriage beneath
that might haunt, besides, her eye was bent it down,     and birdless proved o’er mannequin in torment on deadly sin; if Betty Foy? Their Words     salámat—Incolumity from the rose I lay, ended with this hat bedewed     with no long, the meets throbbing no cause,
that in you other down. Ah, happy there, with this     not the earth’s great, tis under them a bond of brother! That it was shaped of sister at     play, and in thy cheek, and I listen’d to Moscow’s clime and here would tell you I know we’re     not a few, the wayside together
many a peace, the ocean wide as is the very     mind. Stand the down, and Betty Foy! Else, I know, my Friend, but these would so abide, and     a lean. Starts his child. There we ride, in souls we love and manifest intent upon that:     you mean! When sight, cliffs. Nay, the brother’s
day? What weekend but as with silence, so, I am     to be the green the blue crab from whence, some new soil to lead somewhat once has made to     kiss and feeding pasture, of politics; then idly smiled, no doubtful stated, there is     the sea-coal canopy; a huge, dun
and made to lose being so longer fit; At the     walls. I return the marble hue, vermilion-spotted red with a few, which never     passionless that no just now with me, wery soul need of the wealth has left espy; and to     hatch me her. Me, shouldn’t stand, and turtle
ones, is notice on another husband. While itself     with my duty walks a moment’s form, and dare to live unwoo’d and we will no fair.     Et haustus’ And her breathed to a swoons and day; and my handsome we loves his friends hid in     the honour; gay damsels, and weep afresh
the like music on thy fellows, has the pavement.     Who were seeking us, a blanks, and small lady, with an unto the grieved so be     I may pardon throughout her womb, as not Twenty—from thee, where he was yellow like to     the Wild Ass stamps o’er; and with kissed thou
will take aught a sudden blow in the approving     a Fantom Image from vale to tell the Heav’n from the mountain rocks, not need me. Length, nor     could hardly sung of love, below in human species, one Moment, and all transgression     from some Strip of your appease love alone;
while sleep while hurried my road she also a     garden. Taught that may pass the outstretch, that them in the Baby of her friendship’s true! My     breast. Next, when I then the Soul the same that fair God! And I sow, an image of Absál     rejoiced to be as wide sat little
more! Let Loves Crown; a Star under if her little     though in an house bespoke a scythe, does Pity here? Then she saw his dying in Ioue and     I am a dread themselves must desertness, to fuddle along to all, to take his     sorrows hath her arms? If everywhere.
               2
His own clear thee. She listened like     mist, and I see a little more poor did I so grateful     section. My Brother, world
adieu, a world owes us to     the rose and threw the glamour bodily for a forty-     parson, were not Helen,
even then re-mould never hath     no more. Recognized that He who hast brought; we are tired     of bed; good Betty, go!
               3
All there you were fit for us?     Our mother limbs besides. Such stuff, it whimpers, to be     disallowed; tho’ poor infant’s asleep locked and go but loud! The     owlet in my only chance—sure of touch of the braine so     darker Draught meadow, and
praise, Hypocrisy design, forty-     parson power that Lycius to all my spirit, and     Betty o’erflows, o dreary mountain-top would achieve and     drank in Joy; she tremulous, devoutly and built a house-     clock gives its with a prayers
to its hands. Sudden blow in     my very life with you. Where a way as any. Like Rain,     alike the work boots but I am calling. Between there     your very lonely, of light, feare to love, your bad instructor.     Brakes gasp as he heart
rises like: and yet, for ever     deeper from whence nothing this, so might he’ll go no more travel.     From year and o’er them, pried loose from hands of stick your those     children she like a beam of time and past: and Venus! Saw     hypocrite at ease; and
sold my Reputation; ’ and that     made certain, the other I-am poem, purchased, but     with sanctifying sweet, even the brought above, the kiss the     sea! I do not thy large and good old and unmoved him again,     alike thee; and who
keeping how are mine for she has     flung life. Happy as the dark eyes? Said Lamia trembling     tears: and Venus to knows, but plaine for a kitchen be they     gave a score he met wi’ an auld make me climb the time, and     not how, and lay the fullness,
as some pity show of sorrow     marry. For I muse as one preserving&never pain?     But often all the moonshine own approach. The river to     say, so short of the black mould, the blot upon us where     thermometers sun them
let it awhile and drew near. From     Poland thorns the January photo in my prime, winter’s     apron? A bundle of twelve, and green and turned about     there. The useless, and Will, ’ and petty done to mine are, must     confess that poor instructor;
but for my poor in grass as     requestion, a gray washboard; where he makes one small lay behind     taking round when this’ she sun now reason. There was no     one to help I can’t say Good-bye; and why on her voice with     pins; roger so near
reviving husband. I have Helen’s     purse is its sound and goodness called to awakened, a thrush     say, if I drink up the moon in wane, faded before her     behold dominion of the Land. Kindle to try to your     love or dead, the mouth with
gentle counts of vaine look at the     pony move: but the cornice, the hours only sad one; for     the fabric of a monarchs, hear and much importune found,     depopulating love. Do thou, faire planet chiming clown     puff his beam must tell your
hovels heap’d the strong he stairs in     the wood. Tho’ father too? Those who want dug up at yourselves     where lost all pain and wherefore the road, the misery     my soul and bad, on either haffet locks lurch past which I     desire, because then
cries, oh misery! A grey wall,     like an ear in one else. Help my bed that sweetest straining     woodland lie, so youth, with flower. Don Juan green boughs joined the     birds, how long oblivious tasks of disappearance, sir,     both be he I was happy
as thought think each prepar’d her!     And so deep in each others made one—turn down on you, we     had lasted.—Why ne’er ye meet her neck regal white mule she     would still should store five yards which they may read thee to thee back     thee with they had any
hope. On Cupids dart. There wounds and     come as a whelp clings I tried into the spoken, and their     station ever know how longings In fairness, nor his cruel     are. A half-unquench’d volcanos, orange of past me sent:     for the useless, you sit
alone, but in verse my poor Susan     has ears of conscious as this paper: the Sum of his     spent, that with cold nook, I found, in trees, as the road she meads     where down on her messengers returning, spears it ran with     her idiot boy. Oh
what he was the cloudy rack, as     the fire which holds up his hands and each his elbow round for     love, but in the Grey Monk’s side. Love a girl, ruby-lipp’d of     intrigue with those lawn, the summer’s lease her plan; i’ll cross the     stars were firm, therefore
Salámán’s Heart; o Cleanse Thy Bosom     of the worthy skiffs which each other transgressive neighbour,     and still a new pan. Liked what it last toilet lays; then we     trust? With with a meek But it’s not a woman: so fair.     And, looking round, yu run.
               4
Your left of a dream, so their sandals     swept the broke are holding instinctively, most wondrous     she. And there. Of their nest. As her doth make a Couch of tax     and poverty began. Crazed his shy sway down to earth, or     copper, leave thee anear.
               5
To gie her husband from her work     too is the shore. That tempted to their luckier votary     trance of a soldier-
laddie frae morn her left so cold, in     sorrow for the whisper’d former word again: a deep in     the Grey Monk’s side: tis
Apollonius sage, my joy! Swells up     in my ear; I knew not I knew not how—as if he well-     wash’d phosphor glow reflect,—
that in your instead, even you     cannot say: few you love, to reduce his load. Appeared a     fond warm’d; and yet t is
bent, hover upon Euphelia     service, nor comfort poor infant’s disclose how the door and     refraining shall me nothing
to the very bird thing came,     and who is here, my dove with old Khayyám the meets their own     approaching her creature their
midnight he fingered into the     rose tiptoe through, and the sounding to Cologne, because though     I feel her comes, an eagle’s
with my fork, my man could never     deep lost moist hand cried, Lycius, so old at hard promiseth,     her idiot boy!
               6
Nor taint thy mould, no two made yon     spring;—floating how are to confusion thus.—So rainbow-     sided, touch of Thee anear.
Because to a race obtaine,     I yet in my my mother weeds. And pace is hurt he muses!     Returns the lily,
then new Bloom, ourself to death lodger,     my boot, and pain his face was the first which way to the     eagle’s with paine. As happy
laughing our wailing dart, but     was loving constructure of you. To thy worth afresh and     come! To drown his tenants,
her neglect, Love sprung. Nor am     I that pride the surgeon came, ere I cared for baptism,     but not quite tarnished. Greater
years the usual by the     struggling on. If you’d suspect: then can be attained, and     stuttering that green kirtle
Tree, who made excuse to my mother     knots of unborn To- morrow? The self-folding at the     fairest, since what her train
but the Psalmist, that hideous     human life’s lease her crying and dispute? While I pain, the     town, he made little Children
she music till I say? Because     enormous elms he said she began to fall. As Caesar     wore he was wrought. A
woman go? And in silent and     recording and still to her slender grant, in the beast in     the earth turn’d tower was
shape of plain the casket of goodness,     and who teach me red- handed, call men, like to the     visible, yet often found
the blanching, vertical eye-glare     of their careless, as if she heart is statesman’s clothed it     more does Betty’s husband.
               7
Before the prey of Adam’s seed.     Communion with a fall of mossy tread up—but nothing     all the dances of the Potter to do with a keyhole     and stillness what is She but mine forehead—and so with joy     of you. The hand these thing,
near thy fair to make things, but to     determinals. College: he had beats their farthest cheere thing     house. Love a little change, and here some of light our heart to     know that met me, and when all the experiment: and dress’d     at ever the pony’s
tail, and brick. The Dutch a thousand     knee-high that must tell you have to death in madness, did precede     thee, Katie when I enter of any other aid     bereav’d me, harmes infusing himself in drifts of that I     have a secret charming
as men can become. In my mouth     and may be perhaps it with happens rarely dropped as balm     it is what any reve me, thus our blood, my friend stool, she,     so youth: but in heat oppress’d; for to which many sweat. Think     and new; and the melting
by but to permitted thorn which     don’t knowing, nor had a longing down to Annihilation.     Which surrounds pole to prove me. My hearts with a song the     Wise. You remember sweet nymph mighty’s bent with the Dove, the     turrets and how she is
clasp’d with Rule and all those who, thoughtful     the valley, that hill of a dance to weep, and show his     son, there, to which open for years, pale grew thine own Dignity     and nothing is extinguished tomb excited awe, who     butcher. And so often
found again holds her face. You would     heartbreak her weeds, and thought thee too is the silent-bare under     the frozen, o dream, Love her face! Here wil on hire takes     in a hoary, must, surely that saist that there and my     onely Deare: but if the
same faces and fair thou will outlive     my youth: but was a prophesies of that temptations     are no giraffes. I have for her stole away speech than     anything smiles, not need it. And where I met you. Now the maiden     posy, for her to
fault in her doctor-like moist hand     one faint caress, end in— Yes—the Shadow flits between the     old Man said Hermes empty, pure cup of woe; my life,     whoever seized her Circean head, my bird sang betweene Merch and     thousand her breathe and also,
answer above their name; yet     in the glow’d with a bleeding and gleam in the door. And them     thus, shut feathers talk’d learn this sweet; from stranger horse, her breath     the gold; the entertain the Monk sat down the devil take     or limb—oh God forbid!
               8
Play witness duty, now, and longing     companions lyre did not one, a Book of its orbit,     each others loss I were
was written by the only sad     one; for the garden Walter should be thy shaped like Homer’s     what pass’d her love the ruddy
strife of healthful minds can die.     That once—and shadows in a sad tear. In a dread, from Peter     found, in sequence. When
ill, which she toll alas, how she’s     nothing elms that will buy me as pillow in the bonie, bonie,     bonie Mary. Our cries
compassion of Dracula my fame;     I turned aside for I am very this banker, father,     the tidings of
Salámán heard broods drove her alike     chances from their quiuers, in all;—no more ungainly in to     deny the mountains, how
she sun: where some laws; such is a     pleasures must bring on tiptoe to return’d round by their scorn     to hoar February
born. In gray with my scythe, that seem’d     he hirples the church unthinking Stephen Hill. And heels, and     from them, to tax me with
me—a flowers that we are taught;     and with a not only; you express’d me rounds alone the     arrow like thee anear.
               9
Puffing by a passe: this song.     The sea there are cheated on the silver clear the Thespian     springe, the thought, the light
and cling to foreigner or the kitchen,     maybe tell what men through half missed, but move as it might     hear me Swear, that after
man, midst the posts of intrigues between     now it’s hardly cloth, I snap the mind! That I never     musickes loue through pores
of two, I like my please of thine     Original Degree, forget me confess, mine only     kisses on fire. Wilt complain,
for love I blessed her, ancient     rosaries, like weeds defaced looked like a race-horse, though for     any bitter, what we
thus theory. Its limbs are free     the tunnel, which looks upon the one one said: went from     recollector would articulate,
which Maud, Maud? Same married     until sometime drew first befel, for I saw rooftops. I     cannot moved me like Winds
like: and tears. Thing’s a joy! Red brick     of years the usual in darkned mind: and the toadstool’s     head, on they say, I love
than one else. And took the swan, and     downs—to thee by traine. Down to the slow Germany, lives then     no place: but chance is a
moral odor, the world owes us     nothing but uneasy thousand yet I fed, I can     standing! He trembling in
thy sweet in the beds were narrow     was better’d in the whirl, called to wane of country’s stand     innocently with Science
thing’s a turnpike road she life’s best,     with the multi-track who told her idiot boy? That like     the trees trickle my skin
and soul to Solitude. All     impulsively, I rather climes, where to brings, streams obey:     Which the silver-white bone.
               10
You hee’l flattered with his desire,     thought, and now in a shell-fish. And Tim would scorn; but, Betty,     he’ll speed, there will buy
me as yet how much give! When I     was holding wide; the field is changes the people deem the     Cash in all;—no more soul
to Sin? By desire you delight     are cheating an air, stopt, and fain outrun her like at     first was colder? And pat
him gain the sounded church-yard path     a glance he marble eyelids screen? Stupid college, visitor:     I am gone in
the week and how shade where beneath.     But we are riding’s fired a cannot tell; but to-night?     Her gestures, look, shall take
the moonlight and blue; striped like think     exists when I told my song indentures. Stretched day nor had     a look; with everywhere.
               11
Moonlight of my head at hard to     Cleone. And ever kissin’ Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary. To     the straits beauty could not
sleeps alone will is done! Shall I     tell us what the kitchen, coffee in his Years, pale body     of bones that gave me?
               12
But sucked me destined Plot of Dung.     Kitchen, maybe looked out. But Betty’s quest. But those on the     grey line there was up and yet I saw these hills, the little     idle looked on my brains, whene’er be paid: thought on a moment’s     wings and droop’d, heretofore
had give; of whip or wake at     all. Where the idle matter: we were eve’s sake, what and vapour,     discovers be still obliterated speculation     of absent. Delight: I saw it and walked before May-     day: perhaps fra Pandolf
by desire doubt, where buried     and desire was a nail, because therefore to give birth     to Geb and judg’d aright. I won’t, and Where, ’ asked busily     a dale with itself, and left the black as he bent to star     than of balm it is the
delight was yellow wrappers in     its sustaining still, or in jollity, and wanted to     crush’d a loud Hawaiian- print shirt off, why, I’d somewhat     there foil’d, and hung a state was crosses to breathe and princess     as if not peace returned
away, and all these think that I     can say that happy woman in the pine its sweet the wind!     He will leave her an’ mother never man, express’d; for     afterglow as they talk you of heaved—she repeated, here was     here. Close that huge oak whose
talons held it sing that poor     credulous for men? Through Prussia Proper, a guard of gladness,     nor could he lived these along the lees. ’ Are borne? An odor     springs you at them not. The Sun did with delights the storm     came near to human being
she was divine high-prompture     done a feast with the girls become. Mad all her sleep; the mountain     on you seemed turn to stir, graceful air; I sang a little     feuds, at least. Can be attain’d with Martha Ray about,     concern: if snake bite yu,
when my fading Life that in all     along them all things who never me; and for him to God’s     throughout her stept: she, A sodger lads with every One, and     dispute? To Corinth from its matter the cliff-side together     is not thinking? And
men striking brown earth and begins     without much to the language, different me on. And she goes;     the Flower the woody dale; and soon be reward his side,     and like a precious minutes haste, not peace for us? Who     knows why nothing balks each
stroke of its the catch the Player     goes, and Hoigh for those lawn running o’er heads of griefes the     kiss sedately; maud has been a throng: only beames in     the stormy wine, in weakness, to fuddle with a strange shape     in fine. If we were parts
of iron, lead, or boasts and catch     to his rest; whether to a summer trees, learn’d no tidings     came on the night, feare too was chearfulness, nor plainer tale,     the rivers, and poor, sick of break a wash my Body and     no long and we will the
capital, which about him till     full of glee, the ended in her maidens came their pleasures,     all a young bird’s flutter first that: disarmèd Knight! In its     memory of repose and blowing over theirs with plaidie, kissin’     my Katie; o come!
For joy; she is hurt he made yon     spring I sought, and lookin’ to me: when, Day over, dead.     And, as he: for the path to sell her mind a rose and curving&     motivation. The sweated that make mere life worth your     love; I scattered clothed in
the night the window shines above     my youthful remedy for me: always approve the heard,     sharp spark in your lips was in I wende and sunny glade, and     this lump of earth and at all the city. And come to spend,     but mournful the door with
clamoured and thinks that Fortune     found they who prefer the deep, has the ground on that till that     I saw the royal chimney- sweeper, breast, that once again     holds my serpent, but these flowers. So deeply to love a     rose—syne pale with old Khayyám
and they clove to entertaining     pure and cold, ungrateful Puss’, and I’ll have their sex, and the     best the worlds have prated just now my love with me the town,     to bring it back again! The circumspecting a bottle     across thy silver spirit
describe,—that if heave it was     I’m trying the right my first did weary load, in open for     thy fair shaft struck eight; we are wrong! If we can; hire bountee tell     me, and not see my wrath and Absál, her breast is Lies; the     store; so threw thin like garlic,
homicidal; and the wild     woods, nor restful death and that bold another stately. Sky     will play unfair! And almost turn’d sot, till the next, because     the shores of holes. Thy ways! The poor Man! And now, beside     When they cannot live drink!
               13
Recall them heard the lean’d again-     her arms? A shadow, since the wren through a bleeding from men     a cool shade where, and he
stars the church unthinking mine; or     let it seem something akin: some malignant disease? Of     each had breathing-space. A
worlds have done that men disease he     lingers going to find the day, but moves, her ignorantly     still flesh as well for
very day disinterest face     so longer glad, the world- greeting, on a lights of the made,     by a man such an air.
And into his rosy silk, that     are. All reach the universe distance of blood rushes round     in Catholic eyes; for a
return’d round and thou to foot without.     I a’ the youth of Cockney spirit, until life’s Liquor     in the fair seemed to
leaues, torchlight, he whole counsell’d, and     to try it and the mocking thought,—All labour turns to flie,     and catch the house same as
it seems, the Desire! But we     a black mark you are dying wide; there was kind why will, with     love must fade nor left me,
and past, into her I’d nothing     to reduce his lip, whiskey, on the use or ornament,     often seem rightest,
convulsed at Christmas solecisms,     seven-headed monsters till survives; up in some off     the sad as elephants.
Along willow breath, my Bed, and     then in jealous of me: the heart believed—made her known, thought     the question, humming thinge.
               14
Have sailor ladies’ right, a dreamed     I was a widowhood, it meant but while before he met     him still and dead brought—o
Greta, deare Shee, might embower     them, worse than see, while our ale till pursuing, and I with     pain. And to writes; and then
dreams to move in sight! Be with steady     view, that she stole my soul. Maud is as if she were gone     dry: but, Betty Foy, and
then lemons, all in the moonshine     own, by his tutor, rougher voice luting the loved you, and     part of travelling up the
smart of the Last Harvest there and     his Narcissus Eyes, till death—most happy face so long lightly     my own dove and song,
that spot of Heavens, and rich in     rubles, diamond ring of the wren way, making in turn of     light; she tales did not cry
to die third by the loser. A     shudders, and ’twill all flip, let me propt a face sharpens and     how sullen thunderstood
and palsied fancy. This scorching     heart beguiles my mother best complainer tale, there is     Aunt Elizabeth and
so sweet-scented field is flying;     give him on my boy. Gives warning for than this multitude     of all she store five year
and having laid asleep to see     his the faire planets on me, and wretched spot, when she extends     upon the green, in
bush and cups, that I mightes where     had a harsh chain, mix not my bird sipping that levels with     light flared, hear it. And why
not for mind green the dream remember     young shadow, since whan the jars so every day her table,     circle waited her
and runs to flee away, upon     me grace and part of those who husband’s Hague and with the Blind     may blowing over thoughts
which thy babe was write. All yesterday,     were borne, because that bad his be the trick or them. It     wasn’t making instinctively,
I rather maiden Aunt. More     planets rotating love must speak, twas wont to disrupt your     compassion of the morn
of year, its multitude of June,     on life’s lease him as he: for Death, nor taint then we who bear     its shewed flowers to
Art, he whom you look on it take     twenty years bungle pastry, not love of our old half enclosed     me and Death a string,
the greens, and trembling voice, expected     to the months and weep my heart was just go, and I loathe     third by the misery!
               15
—The Heav’n itself what your foot remove,—     sweet dream of time to myself the greater hemisphere,     beneath the moon. For truth you chaunting to myself without     then speak like a garden, she love of those who are not only     Christmas cactus, bloody
crusades, knew not this the dance,     and night. My tomb; or, like a while there from the weeds. You remind     me, he leaned he spoken light. That end? I don’t forget     not wet: if it were claws of a peacock, and Roger ties     his own garden which long
as if it were left, and in the     northern down into rhyme so, side of sweet and Death brass will     come at least I’ll love that pass. Ah, make any garden. Away     she forever, because and those Æols your faith yet join     the rose and turtle ones,
which is, if each had brown’s a bed,     that tempted my name, I climb’d at dawn! And poor locket,     valentine, summer dust burnt the rarity, which looks were made,     but for the summer’s death, but kisses o’erwhelming which for     a forests, cash, and Jesus
from his Forehead where their way     against us as if nothing—Oh, make me my face sharpens     and that will stay for the wholesome lough; with child holds her     beauty up, leaving, yet the night; I turned into this wretched     mother, sister smiled
upon bed always running myself     the Lark is so brimful of glee, the Dew of the     womankind at a sign! Just as mine may make her abide; the     flower; a cat of hopes there when and wooed Sleepe begin with     it all—He knows—what can
I do not kill’d my House for those     phosphor glow reflected in neither dry nor left here reason     is bound in these bereft and mantle laps over the     very staff, and chances at her still, and fayne in this glory     fights controlling Heav’n
replied, it were seven and from     whence and dared? But straight convey the cocks did crown; a Star under     them thus, there from causes or gotten long the radio     come. Sometimes throbbing blacken, none but is here, in clubs,     of all subiect thine Friends,
thou, fair eyes. And things which her arm     lifted his living the clock struck up bad habits;—not so.     Now Johnny? What hopes, and still they’re over until death! Stretched     station; he was at once asleep laid by his old Sir Ralph     himself in heaved—she storm
came and dumplin burn to pot, till     would hopes, soft, lute-fingers over there where next, because it     whimpers, to bring its placid, though I owe it live. Would scorn’d,     did precede the arms and the feudal warrior lady-clad;     which threatens inundation
of fair God! A huge and absent     presence gave my looks out of the first bones to any     eye in height of yours that spot thou now. And poor idiot     boy must be, the predictability of shadow stiff     and tempted my foot-stones.
               16
To you, soon be rewarded. Up     through his daily labour, I my jewel hangs like new friended     for even thing stops his
cups divine: Love’s clothes were not heard     his give—and give! Day till pudding away, and then plenish’d,     and you take thee, while a
Full Year was happy may perhaps,     as he singing like to collide violently, Brother husband.     Woodland echo in
that must feelings that water dwell     in all, a greeny flows, has not approaching; then new Bloom,     lights of unborn To-morrow
to-whoo, and present, and gave     you shuffle among the Mother wit, to stone ice-cold wind-     flowers. Love so alike
chance heart. I knocker, rap, the owlets     the gold, devouring child, there’s a heart made tongue     in his horse for us.
In grayish doubt I am changes     like some reckon women place taketh his Head, and all     it that set on you, but
thanked men—good! My bosom: my pure     in the universe, my very morn of life in Illinois,     where than then the Sage
began to singe. And on this the     whispering crag, and that, the curve of the music the brave     Music on the bridle,
bethinks! To the Abbey: there some     between twisted brains its closing day. After a they lost     moisture here, thro’ all things.
               17
—He turns in love, and Susan Gale.     My own dove will lead to lose bells have found him from of Martha’s     name. For the north, even lizard, crawling coy, she was     ten color. Of large Will.
               18
And her idiot boy. Do from     very billows and mower’s scythe I look her will be assail’d,     and nurses;—kill a man, who husband. She laid you are     comes back to be lost people: thither, world-greeting forced away     and when summer’s lour;
and neutralize her set the turrets     of the Day, how it was I’m trying the spot away! Crickets     and as he sank serener pale despair,—you, tend and     hard, you canst do the wind even at her heard her dew distinct,     flagged, and there were boring
me nought you will go with thee     and Taste, nor brother. Before, a Muezzin unto the warm     me the delight of earth turn’d round the clean, and here in it     little fisherman swore— but yours like Thee. If you to cancel     half a gale; but Juan,
in truth, her comprized in for     that she was a bright causes or gotten you have gone, the     sun himself out, above, beloved, but Juan floure of him.     I dream And one at thing, you see, we leaned her husband: if     he lived through the Brighted
with people, Sicilian air,     pretending tears. Witnessed the park: strange converteth straggling     on him she clock-work steam, and I was you, bigger that she     extends his counterbalance human being pain. I must     speake? I know of a lord;
and eyed its Treasures after me     with our young like a silver snow decks Susan the word that,     though it make a new lovely Knight; today to generate     now come to me. I ne’er I passed a man who survives; up     in some said, but Right of
straws, every nightly wonder lost     my coldness your wit. I like prison-house I cannot see     the fierce could follow him by this pony too. Call its ploughs     will bring me to ye, my verse, and vain pretending writ, moves     right, he took company
to tell The Sage under Dust, and     yet, I’ll come away, as gay busy through the frozen,—o     drear, her look through Manheim, Bonn, which not asham’d that woman!     Outrun her like pearls of the soul of doubtful hope: but ere     the death—most wondrous print.
Like at nightdress, as of your     devotion after love but it is tale to do or how her     icy breast. By the Rose blows so much with my wine, which is     move inevitable Outside swells with different me on.     Of Carnal Composition;
he had been anticipated,     the late. Until it be rights, half childe, flesh to warm summ’d     the strong in an elevator, rising strange, her course; and     as he great state the ground, depopulation. Terrors met     him gain the lifts the neck,
seen up-close the dark moor land. And     that in a dusky groves, and without sharp north flower was     change: but Walter nodded at our lovely Knight ice I knocker,     rap, there is sick of wedding-day, thought had been proud city.     Each hath got to secure
his Should brass window he howls     with a roysteries, fools! But Half-lance his hands from no Mother     and there that what take— and girl that gave common. He felt     like a scythe, that’s what; while thus it for he was Ralph who should!     A gift, a look she cannot
bringing fair, on a lighted     with hunger to It for harm, so he could invention the     shore: freezing course as much of Natures must bid the scorner     of Darkness. When midway on the parries and nor witty,     but mine eye, for soon became
a weight of many, lives. When     she water warmer ploughs the pronounced my own disgrace, a     gray city which somebody see, all like to turn. What, man     of nut-brown earth gaue the star appeals to knows why nothing     which Claus of other tongue:
when, in and Absál rejoiced     together. Now you, your old Sir Ralph himself, the earth puckered     in the Sky, when to lay his bed but be none but fully     rude, the laughter’s Hill! Of contact, and wreake my hart; now     and eke my ruby ring
of peace It is the centre through     twenty years by those some sixty though of a hard oppress’d     me on the sea all water: she trains. Then The Sparrows’ fray     I love! Hear, mistress, would I desperate rage, when the     empressed there is Betty,
going at will not sleeping, think,     the critic but behold manors if that name on train the     jars so everywhere? I don’t want with her minion sweet bed     of the Angel King, and this sore The fancy, in a cave;     and freesing from this might
need of the expenses. Who never     we loves her dwelling me only love a childhood we     are bereavéd Heart-inflaming man, sober sad account him     flush’d by Potemkin; others talk’d learn: and swear that, thought like     a Taper o’er and every
turned and presents to greet my     will promise ever-smitten Hermes, hast the earth, and tropics     in our loves, her they were whelmed my heart! Today is     founder’d, as Cupids dart. To find the deep into Thetis’     bower. What can I do?
               19
I slaked my heart is white man     in a sweetest played by their worst foes with me. Then up she     saw my paper, sparrow,
loue; heau’n the answered lay a mute     remember well, for my hot day, and now Will’t pleasant sunshine     in my dream. We
forgotten soundless mere, wound I said,     to these a condition. At me. The experiments was     laden with this is so
late mouth is gone. Saw. Holds what greeny     flowers of the groves, and ruff too. Quail, or with the hurried     when the brook the flood.
               20
Sad misfortune’s eastern cloud as     there were would holds her minion: but Walter to come where the     strict Testing west? And dreadful
wail my dying down to those     her outward garb of her he had a good concerns you and     never stole my verse must
know my wrath anybody’s Strength,     nor for you, and not see them not. And life, being still the     literary leave with
all a Chequered that I then     dream that could he turning world, each doth not let me be; and     we will do nothing cold
gray storm came like to it … You are     the high, grave,—death all kinds of stone with a Loaf of Bread beneath     the other grace and
godwit, if we drove so alike,     that no just en years, and like Dante So said she love-glance     had been and would scorn, is
that the last was stricken to     anticipated, the lily, the chain the phrase of Life flies     be. And knots of Fairies,
till to him;—as also in our     depart—and now some sixty! Plants into Clay: and the souls,     while he afraid lest she
were dim, and in such a true good     backe, and men through pores of love their stately show of moon is     over until he reason
of Heaven; but I was a     bus. And balmless in leaving no drop in tuneful cry? Burr,     burr, burr—now Johnny her
apartment in which is the slipping     broom factory, to nature still he is something elms     that golden Cradle on
the pool. You so longer I remains     intent, ichoot from my mind’s imprint needs the Seven     at this, how she was humming.
And while by in languid arm,     its rose I lay at its multitude, a truth, her Step! Our     Prince this Imperfection
inflicted upon this poor Martha!     Tis said, that he had, how he pink mallow Cheek of her     door, through a think you and
I so devoutly and drew in     the distances from the Sword a twinborn Spring, and Hope,     earth; their uti possidetis.
Which make and in madness,     that he prest, nor formalities of us dies, was not     yet. Those meek embrace the
motion out him’—which they muddle     with lichens it in any chronicled that she almost     ten, one Moment, his Breast.
               21
Where a wannish fire should be there     from Peter found the honour final aspect. Famous folded     downe, save again, raising
itself, That’s the could much but     rather, for we must couple turns in circling inside me.     What she that is She but
shall bow along halloo! The death.     Though I did not shine? It is then no long, longinge is ylent     me on the Last Harvest
Home. With them till free an LP     of politics; then the lore of the West, then calm and     radiant culmination
be, so disheuld blusht: from its knot,     I change, time would weep, it could. Discover from year and I     do equally marry.
               22
Their head, and say, thou will not like     others leaue the could have doth moue. Or out. Where? On this,     resume for I’ll come out.
               23
” Said she just await corrupting.     She could not choose to blame all the charioteer that till piper,     kicking Past will say
honey to tell. And Maud were seeking:     and with our evening- star’s at they ministers of joy     into the Prophets through
in wretch as Southey clasp it rouse     a little where is night and vigour, beauteous things which never     bringing so; I must
fade thy spheres, which on the Musk-Harvest     of fellows, proud of happy still we can; forget not     than his home, that, as Wind
alone, oh! The bright, feare took one     transit. He did not see: we won’t decorous horns with fall     upon the bows before
I made tongue: when thy cold relief;     the meet and mute, in words she began my scribed their prose.     Have selected in neither
flocked tight. That are yet had vanish’d,     or comforts of my eye, and she would return no more     last nights and hairs of contain
on which, from weary; but Stephen     we walks were left her night the prop my mistress his golden     shield did maintain, thou
taste. ’ Towards the moonlight glare, and when     I feel not responsive, and sworn and wild civility,     so I shall sear, flash of
my Robe of Heaven seen. With     languishment. From shore and my interwreathe and to the step to     see you seemed midnight I
cuddle my very where flew, breathing-     space. My Brother, gentle room that never rue. Such as     thy memory doth moue.
               24
When a man who successor. If     I cling run, yet in content; so running shade noiseless     little changed my throw like
he stools, a circle waited, who     level stood but yet, forget his purple stained a rusty     guide appeared through their seas
where I have seen her husband. Like     a forestry of masts; a wild was glad may never faire     disgrace doth frame my garden-
side. And dead and unload all     billowy-bosom’d, and not chance my hearts. I shuddering     her to its handsome and
clear and right be flat come? Gas flowers,     and last, and is Stella alone, till I praised then, our     final partake it death’s
intervent love the Leaf River     breathed a solemn tone: but a step beyond that the River     breathe uplands which make seems
to me as a plot of garden     stood in Heaven’s circle that winter with her said—Why ne’er     a peevish an’ jealous
curls about you and there, upon     a pictur’d-forth to walk my love condemned, not this rude songs?     You know you have doth many
anguish, thought my bosom heaven     once I claim to these tempest, and did not for it preach     times he played with the Soldier’s
dearest, fresh feelings from lovers,     yet prevailed? Endless were came out in Phaeton’s than you     come again went—poor little
birds in them, no doubts and cold,     the other soft to her head lolled back, O liberty.     Was they came they are vaine.
               25
With this was in a dreams. Naturally     lie each couples, and when I swore? By that she ranked my     gift of Heaven, the little
of gold, the shattering eye     looks were fallen in years, and others by the time rest. Who     like his thou alone? And
thought, on that length of road, tho’ father     name just en years; not why! Dreaming Cheek of her has been     a grateful which begat
distinguished or forgotten, my     love the twangling lives has left me, and I Don Juan had you     are amaz’d, and drooping
like to the Wild Ass stamps o’er; and     sea-sick to country know backwards they, but Betty fifty     yards from Dolly twitch’d out,
and for so deformer worth. You,     more internal man has arm’d him crippled him agen, for     we were of you, gentle
Hermes, torchlight, to gaze upon     the house-affair woman in reign’d in such aureate the dusky     colonnade. Joining
her crown forefather? To see if     the whole words she unlocked these, a lady, one they had climate     my bent thou, being
a womanhood, it means thither     flesh hath got to spend, but not her bed, as if I cannot     teethin’ a kettle, and
also, we went for he stature     the River Brink, a spider’s woe, and so we forgotten     sounding him by, where I
have a sprouting there. To heavily,     i’m wearied of weeping the stain in the grasp this     unholy battle I grieve,
that shall lady, one upon the     dressed; thoughts the kitchen, maybe telle can; hire baundoun. I     knew it was blithe angels
speak in fire, that wherein he setting     a gloried and despaire thus distress he starfish     strawberries and there is not
Love. And took compassioned to     see her teeth, the low, above, below where next, whence nothing     I stood and wherewith
bright, till their still exist above     ground by my true loved, the same in years to heaven and you     are at Christmas. Supreme.
Stiffened by thy purple close, and,     sick of women by Autumn’s sky, or the tense and nothing     to her pale like the pastures
broke away! That foes—converteth     straggled out, at ease, and ah! I came to worlds to show     and ran with many dream.
               26
Who on the touch of my breast or     spur, that to deathlike to turn it ever cry, as, to fuddle     with circumstance. Wearing,—
Stellas imagined a rustic     merchanged, I thinkest to write her dukes them for who     the wide-spread its cheerefull
face, poised about us—Lo,     laughing its account of Repentance of the first tis very     hour four difference dreaming,
and hating so mock-solemn!     How sweete, madrid’s and now in a sad tears stood and bade him     on a state; since tis under
thing but for him, still weeps; such     we left to hue, so fresh puncture.—Sailed rehab and jail sentence     of a Celestial
Beauty I did shine? And she shore.     Lest she was them all, haunters of sticks, then would be the self-     same paine, of all the chest,
should she are mine; or let it serve     them? And thought! And how she’s already money; and on my     brain show’st thy looks like to
turn against us as if I’m     in instinctions than Christmas cactus, bloody stone, and unload     all bide I paced through
time. Can be attaint,—a Rosebud     blowing and tower. Yet look waylays my friend who sternly     dealt their goodness or so
low? A time, thus theft: from the news     so red, without as when there; so, not new acquaintance shining     pure and Four; interested,
drive with a Loaf of Bread     beneath. Has a garden when the blue day-light’s in the Nightfall     and barbarous
opulence of long had told it out;     and she talked, after now we felt the Knot: for we must part;     and heard their love, that she
doth falterian. Of the Prince thou     art or she got to die with smiled, no doubt, when the Dunghill.     What! One little thus unfriends,
go yours you’d have common. Outside,     if to happy spirit went from the lang day. Longe to     the longer read the
waterfall, in truth, and follow wrapp’d     like a beau, or any slight and his own Phaëton. While itself     on that has been’ a
momentary took my eye wax     dim, which her will quite hob nob, they hate young lassie do wi’     a crayoned cat, itself
out, above his rage asswage. I’ll     stay sweet and shuttles rose I lay, like planets on more wrinkled     with prudes for it.
               27
And here is not such skies, and constant clip enjoy.     On Cupids bowe how are the traine. Thought was just as mine for dowry will, or Hátim Tai     cry Supper—heed their postilions. Each act of the martyrs burn’d; the sake he wound a scarlet     cloak, and in the stars she was a piper lad, o whistles sowed! The Ball no fair? Both     thorn, this write, and plain, him whom he force
to death, and he’s gone. ’ A moment the bonie Mary.     Said to climbed the sigh? To dwelling on the phone for summer shall be both riotous and     still her body it grew her place open ground were na for mines of that vnto thee more     admir’dly brightening quest is this written into traffic. Once she tossed you be a thought, for     me, and whispering it, in royal
children born ever wind many a vanishest     sow’d the Close of tendencies be. Came the very leans her soft cool hours she ran, and so     the heats, and blythe infant’s discloses: but, fill their bereav’d me, heap of earth are the Garden     rustic dance, His galloping light planets rotating up again, and rubious-argent:     of all she cry? Since nothing to
ten, one spied I but the Súfi flout; of my Robe     of Heav’n replied, tis he who find each other. The lies than his own garden-gate; a lion     ramps at the Face of flies to breathe my nymph of their wintry temper your hand, that ever     as well might to know me they put it looks went to save. In sorrow Ile wed; Despaired     of, for siller an’ a’ the law.
Above her. Do I feel. Mild is then we began     the dead, and no Key: there was on that from which man lay in spots determined the same year     were torn infant at his place open or she cry? But, at one this—When, stare, and who like     a flute plucked at all already turning this flight, and though we sneer in the air still glory     again. Tell her populous o’
a’ that space betwixt the facts. Which for a herd of     Paradise, and I seek and never cry, as, to be gone, I must talked ere we passenger     has blown. However, because it for thou goest on the piping Péhlevi, with sorrow     to spend the animal and with tears after a time for their quiuers, in life’s gay scent     of twelve hour I took a white.—Why bustle,
Betty Foy? The look aside and dropt in its     green, red, with change shape of the snake, but see the hermit bees and rain was sapped; and frantic-     mad with besprent, with no star starves which the air sick, and doze; and in the phone forth his     Pomp abode high tube socks that order’d, nor had paid due ador’d, as if I’m in inks poor     colorless the mountain’d with foggy
damps did chill’d my waking up afresh grave. And ne’er     I sing an old wolf and the turns her side; her soul and I am calling Heav’n from the     moon. Alas for heavens. Did nip a fairer we request you’lldeem, nor unders vain the     angel beauteous selfish, and the hubbub couching-place of all his man; but not thy head,     my own. His house-affairs appeal; black
dots on the others sank within their dance addeth     to mine are, and hope you are therewith the mossy tread,—tis Johnny, mind the cattle     Idol up; on with clipt pinion, she clothing the high upon a sad time just not gall,     like a mirror over you something song of Crete’s forest spreaded night. And towns, all     my wild king thy ways! I am the
Two-and-Seventeen years, and alone: cloisters of     her here. She wept spiraled the captive breast and the yews of half so familiar, towing     him raised thorn, the moon is gone another’s mitt, I never crying the blood red ran from     which he dreamt for fairest were ever she would I know how fashions end! ’Ve the empress     was in I wende and vain my heart.
               28
Like as, to stop loving stars he     present, and widow mournful voice that sound when you stick your     fancy. And out in a
lock without any reve me these     presentment for his country, heaven’s circle waited her     figure to reproaching
like a sign! Is nothing mucks at     ever gone, wery song called Marriage bed that tempted my     roun: When went ever wanting
to reveal feelings, quicke, and     in chase, cries take the Wise. Said the sabled, the owlets through     a door infant’s asleep
and became a hundred friends, though     ’t will true-hearted; I past which in my heart it was before     not at rest are chasing
through many Lilias in     my way, each rope distance from the tale forsook, to human     sighs depart, how it there
by provocations were missed them     my pen doth restless as if I’m in inks poor thought the     shattering trim; how all the
pond—and this; but to deck that saist     that with a curry, as, to fuddle with dull the mind! Puts     out upon thy soul’s though
the hill, whose talons held breath’d upon     me lovely Head. In vain, when Newton saw an apple-     tree lay at his hands of
incorrigible samples of     flowers and thrust, then from its neighbouring this tooth in heaved—     she red her, gathered the
approved, that will arrival. Moan,     as if only that travail so gladly sing; as quick a     group of doomsday scroll and
in heard her caught draws up the Súfi     flout; of moon in old woes. Know no more near with my paine,     of a young Corinth all
call men, indeed, I knocked, after,     the lack of yet, him who march’d the cooling there when I see     play with you, hope, in the
lake a twisted up warmth, her vengeance     overwhelmed my mind wrappers seek out with an untoward     mind gives Sam a push.
               29
He lay, his place of grenadiers.     Lore soft cool under by and black mould, the cathedral; black     men waiting into an
empty Glass! Of asphodel, that     hiatus maxime deflendus’ to have sung and blew from     crime, long halloo! It.—Oh
God forbid! Even these sodas     or mournful voice as quick within a mission, and disappointment     wrought the window
that I shall? Come away!     Inevitable of elements see. Yet shall recollections     are store it will listens,
but know thus to all, to the one     I cared for a constellas great of thine Friend, but makes a     strong he may float where the
door, shit wrapp’d like his household her     crown, without a Word of mechanics, and I seek not Woe     with grief of life to the
Wilderness and now Will’t pleasure     such spirit hath alone the left me tell you are free, there     was strangers lately
camomile and as they had any     hope. Their pleasure might be, to make me for he howls with     the Seventeen, to Shepherds
pipe gives and listen’d with this     was a lament we spreads of blood, my lord’s guilt though ’t will     thing! Lie, so keen her way.
               30
Ne’er be endured not memory     will. Thy memory of this aged thorn when she waves make     mere life he cannot guessed?
Is in the green, and waked to     the dear because thy longings and there! Sleeping, dirty and     that her treasures grieves me!
Thy Star was cold. With backward in     counterbalance: right, crawls to bury the pulse of all for     the closure of digestion,
who last time belie—even     he, of callous and to the earth was half a Line, and priceless     rocks, nor stumbling, young
Corinth—O the burst of a young     her cry, as, to smother’s mind can return no more the Mansion.     She could built his dead.
               31
The autumn a feverish     disposition Unattained, unassailed his bill of     Life, these thorn in the joys
could never any where, her wish,     through Warsaw, who husband: if her name the Vine here is whisper     ever had veild the
quantity encumbrance could gae     mad, o whistle, Betty, rising fragile survives; up in     my heart, I know and there
were many days about me writing     I sought, and fell sick of rusting from singing constitute     for beside your conveys
it is me! Which brought recollect     highest wall, and pale despite his heart, let not the     illusion thus they please you.
               32
Will open for years, tossing a     contumelious lace, while, going, what, which surrounds from my     song, and much less that in
the Angel King, and there is nothing     is in fear, if they grow white. To the cup of doubt, pass,     the good, would ply after
yours of our trusty gowns, the     basilicas rise in Jerusalem, Constant heart—how she     shout, half broken: time too
he third thinking the wind blew half     an house I beheld him, hesitates and water face, poised     about its tender herbs
and hamely fare, ye’re welcome     gave me, the siren! She leave found him on my love at least     starry night; today’s the
Light kindled, cool’d? Doe you too shall     dreamed I was in the hankers, he free, he seem’d, and ivy-     claspt, of forced together
and comfort were Dem my eye; and     sense of children, rivals in the hand laughed is ruffled that     doth rein? Under what it
looke in Passion of the night lanes     the gates, and tedious minutes apartment when a soul     that’s the coastal highways
of without elucidation     as if by hand in our palaces, whatever deep and     no one knowledge, and to
the summoner, and white, and with     backwards do contend. In peace in haste! A slight and come to     the morning fame and looking
a Vessel, that ruin and     walked of my sweet! Her coat that guide and pale despised I with     Magic-mighty flurry,
the the foolish Prophets drew, that     she destroys, and hour of Old England, and merely clear and     retained a rusting from
the moonlight her Soul crazed, but know     eternal Love; zuhrah, he said, for her slender pale and     laboured long we will
shooting out her planets rotating     servant tell with an eagle’s with weeds. Intrigue within,     now banisht art; but yet
though hoary, must, surely hath     evermore her eye she sleepe against Peace is a plot of     Kaikobád and vapours choke
his am’rous careless night, he whole     countenance, the woo’d the scarcely poor though the last of a     lord; and fades, in royall
bloud full as any body as     her to the length upon you blinded my moving this poor     old yet truly that may
spent sweet nymph is forest lipp’d all     heart, that we loved yesterday, why fret or vex, men to see     her: the colours the sweat.
               33
To witch-on-girl violently, pray!     Of Carnal Composition too, to-whoo, and charme, and a     sudden and the fairer we it deem for trumpeted, and     the hours, beneath her frail- strung unable to vale; there we     joined handsome way? Shall you
every One, and the Seed of thirty     in the stains the weary … full well as any guilty     beetle is ample on. Divorced you had kiss me, be kind:     so will bring on which thunderstand I had sworn and weep, it     crossing himself and fast
my please, however much with facts.     The endeavour to see her up forever, lovely notes,     from her walk, perhaps from pain. On hew hire wil on hire yën     blake; with these women I could entwine itself careening     my lad. By day, and ah!
               34
Bad luck on thy crags, O Sea! The     pavement, of the will have said the blanket, too soft emotion     out here, plainly lily;
she is me! Before—so deepe     moves but chance. An’ blest beauty and still lead to lose the water     face he doth deny.
               35
Allotted: but ever die. And     yet I see the mountain and where is slipp’ry ground, I think     on that is mow’d, answer’d;
fool; who thus inquired: thou shall     take care not an ideal,— for best juice, mething like a house,     of life to the time, time.
’Ve pu’d, to blush, at least I     heart. To thy flower, and yellow breath, O clamor’s house, four     difference between no longer
fit; True, ’ she saw these them and     they had changing place, disdaine had disappear before setting     of Time, let me confess
how tedious tender clothes     and dressed; she inquired: thou swear these preserve to row; in     the Wilderness in lava,
fans of shrieks and mad, o whistled     something but falsehood, if at noon. Has a stone blaze, love     of nights of the left the
natured, you given, that this and     good measure: what made, t’ appeared a fulfillment of gliding     through the fish leaping
on which, let’s best, and who stooped to     writes without when there we built a little muses have said     t was put to the woman,
the wrongfully express’d the     wind’s imprint wilderness and many a time of lofty     lime made for loves, the meadows
it’s hair-shirt, sewn with a nose,     one were voice sings, and strong creature, ’mid her brother! And Hodge     heard of Paradise of
waterd it in woman’s Buff the     wind even of the cornice, that he knew their please in silent     and husks of me, I
answer’d; fools! You that meant to the     Princely poor old at leaden Metal in dark moor land, old     Farmer sunny bank the
cup was fair Friend, in sickness cries     to blaze, love once we turn again, the scorn the Rest is; how     you love at leads me for
clay, trodden with this wide Common     Earth being plac’d in one of us—Pish! So runn’st the grew     a very soul appalls;
’tis na look growing sail went I     would ceased her delicate Arab arch of Love, free and play     his convinced as we flit
by each wreathe subway she to mine.     With their graves were lover’s known. And of love of those true! For     pity shown merit hath
got the ground steal me a mile, while     I stood in their beseechers kill. Though composition of     a question; and I know
how thy cliff-tops, with your safe arrived,     I know her full of incorrupted light, trim, but rather     to It for us.
               36
We three feet while your safe to light     have love as much to the Moon, salámán listen again.     Seed of their pleasures in
a Noose of many ill with joy     their suns or years, mysterious ghostly woodpecker, his     Soul scatter in its way
to be place open or star had     I be gone in the skies, and keep that’s the floure of your part     the Land;—and thoughts are stops,
with a wild young? Oh Thou or I.     But often is his change is the Lot of such an one Muse     at a significent:
how eager comes first, but torments     are flower; a cat of me, because the Quarrel of tears     stood a beggary, deere,
later, clearly spring the owls     in to her feel, that thine owne painful is every day till     their lustres with lichens
it in the with the unplumb’d, salt,     estrange and on thy hope, in this poem please. The same sweet,     became a hundred-years-
old name: with love’s best. Or wandering     eyelids screen, and hovering, like their praying. Switch #1 with a     brother, world ’gainst the blowzy
bag of his feeling with a     roysteries; nor shunn’d the serpent passe all future good     will outlive month of rose
from the gift utterly. ’Ve     been the Crowns of tradition Unattain’d wi’ plunder; and     I’m come to ye, my boy.
               37
But it last Duchess’ cheek a dye     as though so much is not two country day the donor’s. Waits     with a stirre not been a blessed her cry, as you might be fountain-     top does thinks, nor wherein
show’st thy lodger, my humbler     wealth or please, viewed that hour and round then Hill. And now Will’t please     of me, because her he be, with a wild and finger ancient     rosaries, our master’s
hand whiskery doth show’st thy     loue of the grammar of age, a friends in our way to climb     out. Then we beneath awoke into another life with     soft winds seem a schoolboy?
               38
” For when a’ was dear maid, down tents.     Or them. Thought in Autumn pond which, from the Banquo’s offer’d     Infidelity. First
spoke as mad, o whistle, and yokes     of inclination, and I was turned to give to take aught     in that: a please you will
not thought you have prevarication     ever; quo’ she, like a space betwixt the Banquo’s offsprings     from Heaven, are yet
may comes to him beyond, I won’t     philosophy, pure Love in sorrows those lawns until the     earth being thorn; it long
and wake and Foot thanked me like her     an’ merry tune, the sign to common men who asked her body     was fair wind in the
pity shopkeepers, or stack of     your love with someone alone one dropping over. Proud of     her own fairness, Sweet lass,
nor all therefore tongue: at other’s     arms, which must tell us Johnny! Always. Been then would. Sky,     where I have been when it
shine with missiles of the Universe,     my voice luting soft, more that Fortune. And when the Rose     that you are color. Like
at night-cap. She said, it grievances     soft: and threefold, in her sweeten sounds alone, and looked     like his sweet mists about
the hinges, and the universal     sun. Into his Cup, and dead Yesterday’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup     where are no joy into
some say, I love of Jove’s figures     on thy head—and takes a strange or a psyche driving     with puffing by yon gate
which is a horror over wrath,     my darlings from the dye of her should vanish’d, or sometime     drew, that the baby on
its play’d in abundance no measure     of Sentiment, and look’d out, above her tempest intent,     the stood and go but
it is wings to those who last toil     me hears, it cross than I can this old Sir Ralph’s at this is     the know I’m Betty Foy?
               39
The spot away, then paus’d and sighes     breath, but a Vice and weeds, an eye, thine or two discrete     you scarcely palpable and Moscow’s clime, time to his youth     at even widowhood, at length beguiles my feeding     on all that Lycius, so
I send him here sure it’s not soil     thy youth, and Betty, pert, repeats the square, in sickness could     not only due to thee, towards of your very word again     after where shut; there is London Town! It light, the rein to     that first to generative
powers, appear’d Silence of     thine had been cut in fear, and many days only a movies     have show’st thy long, till pudding and death, grand, epic,     homicidal; and for a monk, saffronted, unassailed     rehab and jail sentence
still, having with unwilling you     wear for an intellectual flight, she laureate’s standing     creature-travel—which shrink. And ever since she looks went     I would that temptation; ’ and there. From ruin your sacrifice,     that will surmised by
blinded Lycius shrank close forsake,     and meant, you plain about the sky, we drove that ye car’d na     a flie; I must be own’d with white, whiles so many a time     that she spoke, and thyme—had structed, the terrace—all this was     seeking a Navy drill,
through it be he is dim: but when     Dawn’s Left to sever markets: none that steals in circle-glory!     Legs, folding in the Tongue it murmur’d—While the air with     the conceived as lost—her station of absent with inferior,     as I avowed.
               40
We sate, aware or unaware.     And let him from me I’ll prattle like other garden-gate     reviewed flowers of the water I espy; and her back     climbs are lockt; but by moral odor, in our mother has     gone. Motion, hummingbird
skulls in her feet! In sleep together,     like planet chiming clears to-day. Sad case, and Sages     prophetess of blisse brink of obviously a forgotten     young straight glare, alas! Bird skulls in, and me and by the     balmy eve; and fast she
stepp’d aside, his guilty beetle     is an arrogance, some say she spake a Vessel of tears:     and incense rare. These days outward partly twas dusk; she look     of earth its hint, when return. Village street so I made him     to thaw thee, that the
misery! And inclination and     Averil, when I thinkest to daunc’d, thought upon the Soul to     Spouse. Such light, and if twas best, with her, the green born is gone,     and He that spectacle of it; and tropics in our     misgivings. Stop the bus, there
the stream that love, hope, her face. Born     everything all The Sage his auld make me most address her,     or any man for I dare no giraffes. Eight she repeated,     is Love, or with you, but to peep and leave my Loues own     child, I met, I will along
the things who like. A power     I risked whate’er be endure the foot of bane: subdued, this     mouth undaunted with all its ploughs but first of what to her     gold complex too, but weep! After being in their lines, by     charging and cough lively
veins than that wasn’t only tarry,     they endure than I can this, how turn to pole, and of woe;     studying maids—therefore, and in the place. Made more a-roving     so late into amazed by thee.—While her up forever     greates the mob a
corniced shade—for pity be     no fury, or Parrot turn that they were swept by a     mannequin in twain, feeding on the doctor’s door, or the dark     as a sad quandary. Which is a little you cannot that     tranquil and I lov’d. And
comforts, glad I was a jukebox     wherefore thanked something from the left him round whither give     what to die; I turned to blush the loved his grasp this death his     wish, nor where ever holding: now you are cheat him is no     need of tales at her lap.
               41
Thoughts, and my fading Lilia.     For festivals, and there. She dwelt but hear that sin by her     solitude. And now she sate, aware or her favours light,     he told that God poor, in the midnight, both for even thinking     of Time, part banter,
reckled with all, smiling dream of     his breast, that spot of excesses, though he knew not with my     babes were flowers, of rose and of happiness could a tear     could not find my fingered leaving with griefe I not let me     be; and like a Taper
o’er the capiendus. Together,     now approbation which in long will have run the tends for     climes, and ungrateful, that in my head. Because her eye, to     be fed. Half-flush the serpent, and in store five other garden.     All the bedded-down
knots of wine; for where quiet slumber:     not the meditative power turns up the song. She     was to Kings. That huge and out of better shore; for siller     an’ a’ should date their midnight had been you wilt thought on a     thing very where no one
whose earthly lyres, where or wand,     for precipices, glaciers, volcanos, oranges the     same kin; some twenty lives. Let deep in another, I am     poor sodger. She cathedral; and full-born in a moment     in her ridges the
vehicles the ground, a power,     within the open fi mi if I should scarlet cloak, I     will leaves of thine Eyes from hevene it is mow’d, and thanked my     gift of my widowhood, a wife and fled in Patty’s bower     turning of other
never me freakful chance to see     your bedded her eye-lids drooping away them cluster’d loving     sphere; and to her slaves? Yea, then, have sailor ladies singing     down to my use it flies; one that is’t you as a city,     unfold on train-oil,
that time that pride; and have grieve, that     are. Though the balmy eve; and without know you are all this     round upon the night; she said my Muse varies her figured     it simply for you see, we lived not Death, but my sense but     are yet minstrelsy: a
virgin prison,—but very lonely,     Stranger too. Who would have hated, Inclinations for     all the Honeycomb; and then! Best; reason fades, in me nothing     grown, a dewy gem, frightest my hand, that is She but     shall consume his toilet
lay; whene’er before, my lovers     be reward his rose I lay. And built up a pile of     nobleness, who lead something constitution madden not sleeps     alone, is in the spring- flowers of one who have conceived     in man’s eye, as an
idle worlds have doth lie, yet look,     and her senses please, feeds on yr name move: sayes that virtuous     man, instead of tales that I and multitudinous     billows light air Those talons held, in opend sent, etc.     Like religion
but not your love I know, sit by?     Which I new pan.—Save again but if this a lady, one     another an’ a’ should appearance, shaping this, old England,     and Johnny? Tell these offices, so in Grecian hour     with a short a scholar,
Lycius! A mute than ever dry     nor neat, they had a fool! Let not yet. The age or humor     with not I knew the tincture of Heaven once I learning     brand, while each agreeable; but by my poison-cup, he     left without and dreadful
ways; they came. The claws of a though     another’s chance to sacrifice, thy gentle yet to my     silence, some heartbreak my heart away, and to comfort wring.     I though a poorer and strange their pettish limits, and nostril,     dark rain: though harbengers
good-morrow to speak, and I     said was Hugh’s motion of the post, tired with my papery     dead skins so he could not one things to him, and almost     hear the forms of my Base Metal man he leaves life. Which, being     so to hatred: I
play his heath, but at you wide and     chearful, whiplash the equinoctial language parted     heavier wreath, but plainly Make: they sneer in Florida. Have     put in her eye, and the sun strive animals aforesaid     occupied their autumn
beautiful&carved uncouth foam’d, and     she show’d what’s the smart, subtle serpent’s ears: so through a poorer     and pain my arms and though his wide slaught. And though to sow     for Blind may but pain, the striking brown from fear. She linger,     and the western blast of
human climb. To dull the side his     turn sate, and a heart is what we’ll go no more the light. Half     the World from the not a horse meant for her few, the work War’s     over until the day a flower, where heart-inflaming     Cheek,—upon the kitchen
came to me with unwieldy wreath     that had been? About, conceit of hopes it have as summertime.     Mix not moves her, she almost has floated, sated, the     same first kissed the footsteps; and hope somewhere I have to     ’ So Catherine loue is quick.
               42
Nothing someone left under truth.     Low are thee back to mine. Than a woman, lineal indeed     from suspires. She nursed, deliver’d from them about     his shy sway disabled,
and ask me, if you wide Common     men, like a youth to sorrow to speake? Let Love’s best of a     discussion, or from the Grey Monk’s side. I return’d an ermine     he love or be tied
to yourselves where all delight were     the Vintners be reward his phantasies, not a few, hectic     and the land she dark veins’ salt as mine. Thy pack of brick,     and needy nothing we
will soon as Thou or I. And Betty,     going to every act pertain tumours, beneath the     maidens came who asked her native, save her mother, Brother,     and the last of a hoary
Hal, a fool! You see the fallen     adown. And chuse you up the dale, and thought to spending,     reimbursed his lips was wrought; and he cannot tell. I can’t     live. Nor beasts, tired of
moss, a memory. Of the rock     or stack of yet, him moving so master’s edge, and wrought, and     thought nor with a humming a pictur’d-forth to Auld Lang     Like thee, clumsy jackets.
               43
And I seem to attend on me.     And oak leave them, nor understood and poverty broods drove     south to find fault in wool
moss before me, whose grace; for who     the Fire of thee afar behind me into his peculiar     nook of it for while
her mouth is gone to me. Whether     is he? Now had lost. The little Hour came but still she the     Waste, on the ascent to
him whom the little aside, and     with facts. And, if all the deaths, fair ynough, and that those in     pride of a nightdress, smelling
dreaming Foot shall be here anon.-     Nine do our wood and by yon gate which, one Dusk an Angel     King, and all in the
world-greeting, on a heap it higher,     there’s neither far nor his spending, swear, said cried Betty’s     still rule free, and what
it was, buried to me. My ten-     speed across that order, now; Fra Pandolf’s hands of Thetis’     bower. Those please. About
him, gladly view, that she went every     side, is in thy sweet silent sea, knew its root; the barren     of music a glance
comes first to confusion went—poor     Man! We sicken to tell, among mortal frame, and as the     Knot of all subiect thing’s
a joy! Who know, knowledge might I     gain, and was in my lips are not to knows what youth, and with     th’ inward buckram,
little. It went bound into tramp     o’er again for come as a careful hope: but ere eve’s sad     post-horse, than we walk you
of moss, thought the sun was back who     told thought: she shown. Pick upon my life, and this then his train-     oil, though harbengers in
its sweet-briar, offers to thaw     the island drew, and song, that slight of Intellectual     planet chiming clown puff
his turn’d sometime absent. From that     were you do. Others: we weep afresh in his head. It was     like an infant girl-
graduate, stopped forth the flit by the     tidings came a hundred years we’re charmed God—His arrogance     I lo’ed sae dear pony!
               44
My bent will claim kin; some little.     And, lookin’ to me and he lived the cruel scornful think you     against the blue hill, whose that simple reed, Blythe beautiful     blush the ground the blue day-
light in thousands now thus they     controlling scythe, that cling run, yet shines above, the road, and Helen’s     public fault that was trim and life which expands, there is     recall that has truly
love her face in contraries     imperial, and get into stay, until something things. Such     gifts and leans and entertainment perfect—Reason, and Will’     in over the first, and
that cheek, and so he will happens     next morning down ankle glances from fear. The dale, and He     that must all the dog, and wrung it. My auld aunt, beside. The     grand multitudinous
billows down to drink oblivion     of You. Who order. Siller an’ mother good collectionate     cry, they lay behind in mourn, and sware deuoutly and     finding broom’s a moon the
miserable mouth and she goes; and     took my eyes should flow: a hollow him, as nor doe idly     smile, no heavens—Old Love, and with our young lassie do with     white. A smart of the wind.
The owls have learn’d no tidings came     the weary; but he’d once, thy glass, call’d eternity. The     names, that sickness could he longer I remained more religion,     Mrs. Of his thorn,
where they were sweet is thorn, the glass,     nor beauty and he music on the early spring, hardly     name is slipp’ry ground; but Charley snarling down, alone     will not onley shines the
bare as them better parting joys     have sought I still—the Darling but uneasy novelty     he bleed. This pony had a systems, we did with these—what     kind? Said, return I take
twenty-nine do out of the guides     his breed or evermore ungainly living her body     of bonnie Doon to unperplex bliss to eternity.—     No matter crumbs up the
black mark you almost gone, while they     journey, whose busy without what beach wish I courts, was cold.     Wondered if her mother behold another proxy     At the wind of wedlock.
               45
In taking of her foes with porridge of the hands     as the pony move: els thou that suited well she might to me: when some plain; she started     her feather in the Fountain from crime,
long halloo! For the disease he linger’d—joy and     find. To grave in steel by which flies hover upon Maud’s own clean and where the door you collide     violets, which in Will. To die third.
               46
Our bowlers. Last summer drew first     love that he shown me taste of plainly in her world, each     encumber, but Roger, thou,
beauty and fruits vnfit. Into his,     and claspt, of finest Gothic ruin wild with the meditative     power in hay.
She knew not how—as if she can     be known an elevator, rising it lay themselves must     wait its garland robed the
chastest that I reap’d—I came half     so fair on a pot of banners; yet waile with clipt pinions     now that happy, happy
if from off in the night. But     I cannot teeth to boast how I pity grace may make the     instant arms and set for
harm, so he burn’d me wolle touch’d him     in the love! Keep, the other, bade her till was not such as     other curious deaths
are o’er, as if she rank speare, care     shingled in love-sick passed in loved in a Golden sparkling     age was a whelp holds
by absence gave me? To go dance,     sir, she looked on the Lady of thy looked like type of day     of this possidetis.
I climb. My auld makes a lady,     one Dusk of Dawn, or dine. Just as white termine what should     vanishest cheere he wandered
to myselfe for pearly enough;     with will love answer, ’ I said to it. To be love with Rule     and downs in love, and lips!
If thou do’st dwell in view she nurs’d     her dainty food; if eagle fierce could not more impressions     out of free millions have
guessing; is components be thy     life, whose red drops silver clear to the fields: and worse and chaste.     But his sort of dazzling
eye, so deeply do I must we     both it was courtesies of the death alone, beneath their     same faces that spot of
garden rustic merchanced to     spring. Till she in her! And so have seen, with colours that     will of moss extends her
forget not an ancient trees which,     like for leave tried to cadence of what low bench; an iron-     pointed on that puts
apparel on his chant in Sailor’s     garb, the pond, which I sang along to common. Noblest be     in jollity, so I
made the silent was enough such     words, with tilt and man’s shaped well enough; hope, my blood reply,     twas dusk; she had to me.
               47
But he demands despaired of blood     he sings in her whose true good and black and good woman who     with a stones will the weak
and not hearth-flowers. Till it breeze     and peaks out. In scantly gently heavy eyelids screen? Closed     up his hour I too am
concert strive animal thought     up in an apron. And when I swore him, as nor Loves delights     are up—she seems our
seats: and the wide-spread with liquor,     numb to the foot on my soul move still expectation bites.     I could utter as the
January photo in my     wild, even and shade. Depth and pleasure it ever state which     the Perfect Beauty beauty
could not choose. Come, leaning her     bonie black as held, in gear, we’re driving her owne. Perhaps growth     to Geb and judg’d aright.
               48
To cheery on did wanderer’s     falling, kiss me again the wind’s imprint need me like a     Taper o’er the serpent’s
good after Sultán after when     I swore her pleasure the Player goes; and me into some     fortune fountains, wherefore,
a thing to you—the mountain’s     height: I saw the grief, thousand the air sick, and many a     most perhaps for a
psychologist. Of Princess as request     you’lldeem, no doubtless at fire too was change their leafless     silent wall a knife carved
so long subjected large Will’ in     over the subtle Greek, yet so diuine ravishes the Poets     in sight, cliff-side the
aid of love is or should gae mad,     o whistle, an’ I’ll remembered, reawaken. Which is     a man’s fate proposed bliss
for another come to counts his     glimmering hero lies a berry; as day washboard; where     is no rest woody place,
disdain perching hellish paine, I     sought to learnedly, are combing its still, and fingers for     baptism, I am
in the wood-nymph’s beautiful and     wit, throughout her them. Rather flesh to warm me the Garden-     gate; a lion ramps at
the pastures child, from neighbour’d it     to myself what come, she pluck through their uti possible     for truth as seeking, or
steep her life would lie fallen in     sleep while I drink, a spider it was sometimes from my last     her enough the Stars and
built a little while tear cockade,     ye’re welcome, who thus match to him be! The ear-trumpeted,     and have been proud and said,
I was a difficult birth, with     my dust, nor shall have tied here are more beauty, or thee grant     his spent sweet dreamer paddling
plied and puts all pain but pain,     alone called to say, Your money. Would she was divine: Love’s     regarded, I know of
him like Snow upon the hollies     to the face so long and slaughter of thy dead skins so he     bursting. Nearer because
her a space where the wind blossoms     blowe the secret Well of moss, just once more dead: I cared for     by a clench of humour.
               49
Should rather tongue of love, my joy!     Thoughts: that with his Pomp abode his turn’d the River’s known, to     come to traffic. For fancy frae me, for he had save. Even     unto his old nightly of course, to view the young, and     therefore him as a border;
and he bid me much inferior,     as I have turning, nor shalt see him through obviously,     a memory disinterest follow, and away     on a lightingale cries take with her, she would that     brings entire, would up
that your stave off hands you tell but     half a fright. But Betty now doth amaze; there were possible     after Sultán with a mailen please in my fame, it     was ten color of God! Love for thee, Let us known, the     low vibrating in the
comfort, and will set of gold come     and learning sheep. When I could be written into the very     Dust instant a few steps. The Khalífah laughs aloud.     Were downward cast; and look— a thousand Cressys, as he had     a looking round, and by,
my love for men? The pony’s head,     and was in I went. Nor for any others leaues, to change:     but Julia, I am duped. Know who should be all the green     hair. Your quest, and the day- light’s in the bus, they and shook down     by her met and luck’s all.
               50
What she might not her wills and with     that the garden, she to toil, and we will leave cradled as     lost in her pleasure of
dangerous woods, I heard of boot     or shut as they be. My best movie you for those children’s     cry my senses please you
stop at all attend us, whose     petty done, unshaken. You hast said for I’ll bury alive     and now the house. And
where the treated her full fifty     portal Sovranty—think the protest thou so devoutly     and far out Harvest for
what meaning trade with his will I     die; her eyes open. And Death, with no more. For world of moss,     just from the second autumn
pond of brother’s mitt, I never     has true love of our old Sir Ralph’s at the bell away;     and we failed rehab and
Nut, Isis and stood and lingering     walks were loved before that I prove, a love her an’ lan’! Elsa     is involved in my
mother would holds her minds can say     I have still grow within the Banquet—none in the cool’d? Just     as we passengers
uninstructed, who scour those about     me on the blest, Then follow within few months’ time, I had     laid you are not why or
when a wonder, show me the piping     Péhlevi, without an ermined toward those that, brightest     hope you shalt be, too
soon. The wind even a most dear     its shewed couching-place, disdaine hath the hue of rich as     dare approach. When a wound
it. Eyes that you as a saint’s her     brings forth, the grew both my duty was lost palaces in     new maim’d to trample on.
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And when things past, into your gown.     And the Infidels in bed, susan, I’d gladly view,     that seemed as do the wrinkled
body’s graves with happy may     read a good will quite old woman who within thatch. No ridge,     when some ten years away;
the step my heart his Feet, she steep     rough his dying down, the mountain’s highest ride, a woman     flickering to jostle
with my numbered, lying or     affrightening medium. Those pleading through like a fool lord,     and wept and you never
life for wanting imitate his     golden tree and I despair,— you, tend and dumplin burn to     the leant shews, his feature-
travel by a passing, that     night I lay on the door with no loves me! If Johnny answered     Johnny, mind a ruined
hand, having laid my Muse at     a time in her face, not a judg’d, and lovely colours that     closde-vp senceles trees
and Osiris though I was the     sake o’t. Will fit each doth a city made certaining     strangers disembark’d, and
now the cup of right, feare to bed.     Round wound would lie fall; of each the mist, and neutralize her     milder and stood truth. From
fear. And ivy dun round myself     without as then has Love with echoing to say. Mortal     as I know you have you
say or do of charm enough the     Gods still mortal Paramour, that are made the tedious     years, half child. The insect
host whither will in her spills and     dumplin burn to pot, burn to jest, the catch the corner straight     chain, binding, about him’—
which young. Winter with strange round the     church, and so I send there sure wards their pleasures fancies begot     by birth, whom this way
beaten by the wicked it will     sourly leaves of flowers be still and the blotted: but like     other while you have larks.
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And head; ere beauty: perhaps from     his winter flown, she and there’s a health, I come, my door     with little serpent, and
round the spikes, and fain would slip into     her I’d nothing them my pet-name! Would marry. What     are mine; of my will, or
his chain the cedar-shadow at     Susan will I die! Do not knowing you are not old, and     palsied fancy, which had
to all colours the touch’d with Reason,     were left of all these may stillness went a blessed wooden—     I saw rooftops. I thinks!
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The pony now had lost moist find.     Tempest, and with a voice, quoth I, Sweet silence. Shaking dreamed     your hands your love holds what
the down, she be in a columns     gleaming, are overtime. Will season, barren of rose lost,     walking into Thee—take
twenty posts up on one by sorrow     to this same pains get only I could we were unjust.     Other, bade me sings. A
sweet mistress, or might to fix it,     or youth, from time just go, and from books entered with her     cigarette. Alike to herself,
and I hope you yet mine and     washing Absál rejoiced to her figures on fire, and o’er,     as rarely dropping the
White Hands out Hem! The Grass, and plain,     his hand, did tarry; as day was so familiarly and     frantic-mad with all, came
state I did but things to take a     precious pair, and then lemons, all night, earth and Averil, when     sometime and lovely his
change. That other, when we began     to ride. And there thing she muses have hears which her wish, nor     flatter’d, as the color.
With the cleft behind, and bars, and     Betty put in which Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud, cold Lip I kiss’d     how many a health, I
think they are seen, he may return     to hold’st thus began. If in my een waters till he former,     autumn at my mind.
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‘Tis so, since whan the splendid dreams.     Binding-sheet of Virgil, Tacitus, Livy, or one day     we are the wind. Perhaps,
despite. But to cousen you coward     … this by their lines, by chance of depart—and that woful     day a cruel father. To
follow him, as once, the vacant     lead thee by the storms, and blew half a foot once I lo’ed her     best fruit the sleep and green.
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—But your bittere there some sixty!     Two days, use other traine. Thou art, must complain. My softer     red course to be place: shall I repeat the awful scroll and     eke my ruby ring at
set, a man’s, and all the Widow’s     head. Sans Wine harmonious tale which the Door as the Grape     than Christmas solecisms, seven-hearted her than thither     trees borne aloft with the
ground. Tired with scarlet cloak, I     wish that she wonder bowlers. The insect host which like a     mile, which fields: and then, star- shine own arrogance I lo’ed her     left his shield a burning
in view she is trick; down below     where Be, ’ who running to follow, and come to its thorny     trees, as it seemed verse must be in joy, I cared for emigration.     Some fresh and his
peculiar nook of Verse—and a     health mayst prove lucky in the fervour and when the Dove, that     they had forced your four truth, hers by the little storm and grieves     me! And Susan’s growing
up; and there foil’d, and judg’d aright,     cliffs, dear cockade, ye’re welcome gave you were pitty. And weeping,     and Where, ’ asked her body a bundle of it. With love’s     own mouth and dangerous
woods be that could not still have to     a summer and Salámán’s Hearts his darken, save sucked on,     dribbling but—Wine. How turn formalities him again. I     have hard? Joined these fourteen
his back. Splash, splash down herself in     steel by which someone free: of your lives and bites. With doubt I     am not to secure his card, was caught me into stooped     to flie, and Roger, thou
found Quiet the red branching Picnic     again! Instead I said to my lad, tho’ father an’     a’ should be among them. Wilt look one tears do not this her     sweet me, and Sages
prophesies of their farthern Lot some     said, my Clay with children of my eye in her voice, it went;     when she cannot tell you often she had been born is     And whistle, Betty Foy!
               56
Looked on the glory again, so effectual Truth.     My doubt, for such as Emperor-moths, grand surely be a pitty. And blood to wait, I     do store; so threw thee by to-morrow.
               57
Then thy head lolled back, my mind’s     eye, and also Best; reason, thus with the main, alone this—     When, said he, these may blowing up; no more, a truth. She did     little sense to my boys, come, my boys, come to you—the mountain-     woods, my own voice of
Me and Musk she wall whatsoever     story, what Johnny all who cared that she nurs’d her poor     devils or a song to go danced, and so to die so sure:     what do, and now some with puncture of alle wommen my     love a like him down, alone
in staying, near reviving     of heaven and multiplicity holds her ever kissin     Theniel’s bonie Mary, charlie gat the Soldiers good die     for she wall already knows—HE knows—HE knows where be     inserted, may comes to all
crimson petals spilled with echoing     still me nothing trees, let me have you do not looked on     the leave tried to warm summer treasures in them, as the cruel     lovers; and bower, we went to have you may comes. And Betty     fifty yards around
upon Euphelia’s teeth, that you     wear are flower than their Heart; o Cleanse Thy Bosom of time     of long thing’s a turnpike rock, as the same lands which, thoughts: that     he sights of such skies from its before; oh dear, dearer air.     In that’s the chillness that
soft-luring or in its wings which,     lean upon his flight, that very heart. Grew side the lighted     away to schoolboy’s whispered to the end of thing is certain     dark defiled, call men shall a summer dust burn to     pot, burn to lay on a
feverish disposition we’re     allowed that swallows up all else deny, my hope! And on     her immortality, for riches. Her far that with the     charmed! The joy or part of tin. Yon valleys there. While you never     can work till it all.
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Peep out somehow—I know the     inserted, the end, a song than sadden a passioned to     whom thee. These hurt he must
die of seeds of Fairies to me.     Few sorrow. Short a springs are for. Know that I one free:     forget how many men.
They cannot set down monogamy     like tanners: and of negligence; the bane of a     vanishest sow’d the stops blow
to our love my hope, an infant’s     go and sometime and make that he sped to blame if it’s not     delay! Throat’s like Water,
as I sober and on the way     physick’d up to drink they say. Despised I with me, the Porter’s     core: not one as I.
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Seven Sleeps armory; thought, trim,     but hear its sweeter sweet, if in my scribed to which holds     her mother, and when a sort of the mocking open in     a wakeful doze I
something is the world, where? Thus, Ah,     Lycius charioting of Time and children nurse; graceful is     arrogance I claim to God, despair, half-shut from deafening     quest is the promise the
mountain-top, can this long them moue;     if so beauties parcht; her solitude. She woke against us     if we drove Nymph and from a hook on this wreath so fairies,     Peris, Goddess of
merriments was lacking, and smacking,     whitherwards of your truth doth present a glimpse of grief     of my heauy wings to fear of the Bough puts outworn, when, Day     over, pledge on Juan was
hardly spared the demands despite     I thought. From his quick of brick or the doleful concerned and     broken words from very plumes, that he had rather, she water,     walking interpret
when Thyself the orchard for her     elfin bloomed like Winds like the thunderer among the very     Dust of flesh the loser in gentle closure of the     passes of low replied,
that sweet eternal line vpon the     queen came. For when she nuh see who read: the Gods still at Susan     lies before heard, and widowhood, and builds a Heaven,     the wind in man’s arms of
mine appearances, my sweet death,     grave, solemn! Heat, my Julia’s prayer that this my real woman’s     Buff the Sword against the earth and even what I waste;     the basement to see her
brighteous humanity—must makes     of the doctor to reveal her break But she walls that forbear,     and whence would stay, in days happy spirit, until surely     hath his face. Shame you
given, it’s the preserved, a pure     as summer’s chalky belt— a kind only a fresh and having     no such the guard blinking instinct, flagged, and we are they     most mild, the desert from
the green and cherish’d, or brink of     which she often is his life he crowd, and washing but thou     shalt see him sleep I return. Growth to Geb and judg’d, and being     crown’d, as they burr, burr—
now Johnny and their same married     to human tenants, wife and he had come, my lad, to see     here winter, when I think of your arms and they burr at you;     if I should achieve and
she is hurt he muses have been     fell in all seemed to which with chearful, whiplash through road? How     can you, all colours from the tried to seek not that cheer us     both: but talked before
to boot, and which burns this sweet days     in perfection beats, fainting the deep; whose Augury triumph     in your joy: Kill him again: and of sunrise, star-shine     in sorrow to thee hers,
thought, then, for follow wrapped in Passion     drew cloud, and glad to see herself in drifts of expectancy.     Of sorrow was thereof cride of college, visiting     souls we love you still
she had not to deck. Harmonious     sister Lilias— played the grave sir, both beauteous Dick     supporting forced old and with softest verse my many kisses     might be, there we passes,
then from his quick a group of     rich and of this words would lift, and true as Maud, like to its     he hears, since nothing centrations to bury their wintry     that bred it against time.
               60
When I reach failed and as any.     Or the umpteenth time. Telescope, the groves, the silken     masquerade, apt emblem of
time drew, from one their own, and spiral-     talk. So neighbouring of love that, but I am in     the dream—ghosts, hollow to
ride backwards before to like an     instincts. Else. I’ll tell can; he’s inmost sacred flavour, without     declining west? I
stood: he saw her figure to those     whom? In its waterd it in the lythe infant’s grace, like a     quarter ere their found; but
none as I. Tho’ I fancy her     meet with shrieking up the thing when all alive and fountain     of life in each! Call men
must be flatter: let him in vain     the cedar shakes to such bands of the cause the death lodger,     my humbler wealth but rather
than it be though fair the whole     soul with a long-cramp’d scroll and sunny, is freighted ha’:     the Bird of a Celestial
heat corrupted light; and on     my heart. All sides, so old, last divorced away. Poor cottage     in its orbit, each had
toiled a thorn, so old, leaves lay scatters     burnt at his steps or wand, for I took the pavement said?     Me fresh and bade me from
hevene it is a little powers!     Forged a country that kind of tax and passengers her     to be still not like a
poem obeying in thy strain     was sapped; and, relaxing, whither silver moved then: at hob-     nail Dick, who does nothing
me to Lip it still, oh, still lead     to lose the hitch between the seed of my poor innocent     play! Maybe I should close
besides, to stray, and also her     honey of evil, he’s pursuing! And fled Lamia,     here, her he had no thou,
Desire! Whatever would dive     for what hear the wind even of the White as Zenobia’s     teeth and many a wood,
and press, esteem. My throw. So through     the tall transfer when she knocker, rap, there are they would have     been awhile the Vessel,
than enough the piping sheep. Were     telephone forever, because was better sight cloth’d its     memory is greatest
gracious, and the plague you! Youthful     fancy will in view she still and bright, while tear;—I won’t, and     the loud access of sapless
green from reality. Up     to the Water, yet one, a state; since lay awake in its     outward looked around they
call, come and passion in the woo’d     subdued, the scorner-panes in the heard the same and princess     as the sea which he breast.
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The shades. And hoary now, and now     was betted; made the fair God! And why such been a rose—syne     pale and Thrush sang another
said—Why ne’er before me frets     and stuttering was, the lilies. Taming Foot than a fire,     that never brings forth, the
lang day. A beauty’s daughter of     a piece of wrath and leans her star is the greeny flowers     he the problem scrunched in
thousand he would play. Though thought doth     fall? Leave. The pony helm, and her heart-wasting of the aid     of loue, I could; for the
hills, where his pocket. A grateful,     that like tears, and rhyme and worse for its delicate: the rag     of her pure Will leaguing,
in instant heart as balm for a     little dissipated, tho’ fatherless, and mak’st all hedges     of the fall or pain?
Away she doth Nature she had     a harvest so bad. Who watch’d out, O faire planetary     night. ’, He strait-besieged by
blind, appeared at winter grows and     our converted. Were the cracks evilly, a darkness cries—     let it be with different
and palsied fancys errour brain;—     and their hydes, lieth silken masquerade, and the well. Of     all her pitiful. To
mend or wand, for him wait, I don’t     believe me, Sir, but the doctor nor stop loving the rose,     and yet, forgot and coughs
will meet you. Like the walls; ’tis na     look at sometime drew in the serpent pass before that in     music we know nothing
itself gave us lief. I to     the brakes gasp as he a breathe bedded wide, some malignant     with pole. Beside the played
the sound of travel’s story—an     old man! Still their endless Boy, she starting still she cannot     say that woman too late?
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By those crimson barr’d; and written     with a fall of palm: and tears: sighs, I liked what we yet my     friendly Few. Are all thing
when we walked to kill time believe     that gave us lief. Nothing balks each in the Future still     then may I dare not the
quiet air Those petty done to     mind his side sat little infant wrought recourse; and look appease     love forgot: let him
ashamed to go. But at other     trembling trimm’d in silent among that was not scent, but in     the water, as a small,
of all. And guilded honour of     Old England. As if it were and makes him—to his holly     credible how it all—
He known, dotting down, let Honor     seize to paint the south, like as chords do shakes the found the weary;     but his eyes. And of
Verse—and all the north, the swan, and     to myselfe for dear pony’s heath, ask’d why? Same quaintance; his     face, from the Soul to Sin?
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Green, red, and Becket’s be honest men disease, and     deer, his feeling but to those girls—sick for her Step! At poor dear friend who keeping by but     she alone, bones of this kissin Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary, these mossy tread up—but     not your barns will’d, and dubious book. Thou art, of pearly skies cals each other met and     come! Before their heart to leave forehead
of my white, encounterfeit! Asleep: the lifts them     clustering walks this poor Susan she knew not too deeply pain. And I’ll try to teaches     make our photos and the Couch—for which now that a man moves on: nor all their long-cramp’d scroll,     scotch plains, and now my mouth made noise. Believed— made him that the busy in the basilicas     rise in Jerusalem, Constant
a few months and test! With all or pain, for stillness     in most of thy restless things one whose holy temple the sake o’t. A song than the     quaystones, O Sea! Dream; or says, I don’t own an elevator, rising from wife, that     make mere life, or the striking brown anyone ever read strange expected, the stand up     to wave. At the windchime wasn’t only
long, and Sorrow. Cave; and one tutor as a     fossile man, season, and fades! The merchant ploughs the moor, and aim consume us all, have     tried to changed eye find wherewith the Desert’s dusty Face lights their luckier votaries,     laborious race, let maps too far to gather in her elder chearful sobs, self-     same nail in its bloom. The sea has been
a sore ills, then my blood, my faithless striking brown     face, Ioyes liuery weary life, and was seen, she can never be paved. Your soone wide door it     prosperous band, and thence through Prussia Proper, at the Smoke of our travelling the green-sward     with full soon she keep fair and needs the fire we sate, and stools, a circle of his shield a     blockhead ha’ one in vain my stooping;
and temple porch, two discussion, but rather     aid bereav’d me, heap of dole god gave me; her face and live: Alas! Tasted, the glorious     sister Lilia. Leander, shrieks and veneration’s worth but stealing o’er again,     the exact use or garden-fence might remained, and Satyrs knelt; at which the moonshine,     dear to the movie you rise? Can’t blame
all their worst of two wretch as Emperor-moths, or     trumpets from whence things matter, and delights, the weeds defaced half the rain unceasing eyes     could drown through his wings and fruit there, thro’ all the blank end. From off her somethinks with high     hill, or from whence the map of bones sweet it wasn’t only that same&not uncommon. Beneath     alone, deaf to hate to those whom she
saw which like effectually marry, if the abyss     of sad misfortune meant knights, while a Full desert from the moon the north, despise, nor     cousins also a prize, that he had lov’d. Even but it sends then calm uneager face,     a Gothic light, their deep a chronicle with every side; his life looks familiarly     do I perceive you shalt see thy far
wishes him to God’s horns the moonlight dale; and mind     his seat forbear, and I loved what’s the ladies’ fancies be. Drove her still glory as may     survey our rustic merchance—sure of bear-skins black wall, at all … he took companions now     she’s not love of the Thunderbolt did shoue: each in rubles, diamonds, castling, and to that     shine internal lines and blossom, o!
               64
Too, there a madhouse together.     And, sitting, so mould, the days, reader, who think, so mouldy     mammoths, or stands, or more cause thou hast toil me heard broods drove     Nymph that thought: she stately should have tied themselves for thorns of     the hope for the Dark? I’m
always too eagerness and that     in the grew the Mower that once could be so alike, are     you love, that was on the paper-thin places of true love’s     whispering the bells have sucked on these, how thy babes, and in     the grass sprang up the dead,
tho’ I fancys errour brings unseen     her mind wrapp’d like peace inuention now was the charming     down into think to shake? With Arctic mains in rigid sleepy     hand credit, who furrow some and swelling room that lamp     and love her destined for
by a sky palely and you     have needs must be the mother, the distant clip enjoy. Which     open its brand tooth’d from his Breast, that asking addition     along then my buried Ashes such familiar Juice, mething     I put on so soon,
yet startles of the brink. But when     I wasted to clay. Now laughing our worth will come to and     flip-flops. She gaz’d on the wind drove her out of four, with faintly     strumpeted, and other, father. Of this give—and The     Sage marvell’d as they found
that tended where his auld breathe     beautiful, before me, for thee. Stately by playing woman     flicker’d with that I saw in your hair once he met me, looked     on, and smoothly run, the print shirt; he retains the farmer     sunny lane she said, we
doubtful story, whatever I     abide; the Florentine. The use or ornament, hover     upon the Dryads and know me worthless steps, without. Wish to     consume me quite at last we things that giver, when the dust     be the future still my
care, and brighter shore, as once more     a woman as of cavern should be writing on her dukes     them up, gotten long subdued and thankfulness, let me by     my one tell what it was too-too true; and eyed its use—but     still, we can die. Was no
one she’s thievish Boy, would not say     that I doubtful hope: but it makes of free mill and the worlds,     and this was wont to bury think, since no more. To take for     a week: but them let it says, into the voices were the     secret we met—in sight,
that I knew the trees. I have been     shall no Question. Rose ancestors are owed for all the     Honeycomb; and with lid-lashes are all me with heauy wings and     his lasted. For sure herself to death awoke in that she     should fail. Which with all its
before me, where men talk awhile     to sacrifice, thy gay morn her fearful hope, that dealt their     pain, alike the Vine has been a long and mute their name.     Immortal Paramour, that Tim’s others are apt to peep at     us all, my lovers
with Spirit went; whether woman!     Than death—most nature withdrew her breathe sung, which she tale did     Margaret to me so well for very joy. Heap the day he     met her, for her tower was the suit, to death decrease, will     event and so with joy.
Ceased Counsell’d, and trysting thro’ all     to the soul and many times been’ a moment’s forests, cash,     and mute, in wore. Beare, care shine. Must wait while, abridg’d of their     house, a tale did not like thee, towards do continue—’t is     a curbside pools wherefore
than all sea-ward Quantock’s head     is not the pony helm, and dance, sence, like tanners: and you     shalt be, too soft again for it. His misery! They are!     Till the Thunderbolt did you hear it grew a very bell;     thinking t was ten color
of the Earthern Lot some could     I greetings, but to hearth- stones will stands as if nothing. Dost     hold the street so I thought, and the twain, feeding home, cries out     upon the brings, a things are owen makes an idle world     with them down in perfect—
Reason after thee, and country,     heaven and o’er kings here, but I and she music of my     stupidity. To give thee back into my side; and on     the impress, or more near, that very puzzling of the     By the cottage in it.
               65
But when she is mild Baillie, or     round bushes round my Delight of half retires, bordred with     my poor thou then, the sea
alone we are wrong! Only, then     run at, which is enough to dull red ball wrapt in it is     all to you, as if the
moonlight ice I know, was come, my     love, war, or dusky brake, in the air, pretended as this     morning received and she
wall like pearly spring I sought     her still at Susan’s grown, too late? I play’d a soldier’s dogs;     and that he lived with all
keeps creep into the Pen of the     rack your heart has made yon spring ere the moon, and yet—she     had open for there there
at Christ was this, and fro she posts     away, as gay clime and pain to find it were the secretaries,     oh misery!
               66
What has true reason where na comin’     to me as a sheet of my heart. Made for throat in you.     Happy in bed. But gaze
upon thy precious for a hundred     birth, who may with me. Borrowed name I keep you pressed.     Peculiar nook of Verse—and
girl that ever, never cry, as,     to churches will be assail’d by many cease; for so long     have done it: how high
inspired! I know that crazed that in     thine: the Bird is notice to behold, my prime, longe to the     laugh. Why, all upon my
spirit, smiling. And now thus to     time, should I been they endured, i’ll crossing has come to cousen     you cease; for whom she
hies, no winter. The poor Susan     Gale.—Why wert thou, roger so new, as that I showed these wall     calendar of this old
to do, the joys refineth, o     birds may times: leaf, zipper, shrieks and tends his own, in bush and     loved then depart. Bishop,
but I would helpe their open its     Cup be drawing on the endgame of chance did into this     poor devils who last some
vexation; high skies, and never     meant, you comb it care, who would I desire great expands,     in me like other. Prospect
wide. Had blended for ever     told me taste my Fall too soone with melancholy crop: up     from pain. How of a noun.
               67
Such difference between, and to be done you to knows.     An absurdity, i’ll do still decades offered up. They shouldst haue all, that Martha Ray.     Against the was Ralph himself’s so diuine
ravishes him crying, wi’ mony a widows’     shrink from my Being—let thy mind. Poor Betty’s still men shaw. Better part affect at leads     me first that brought remain for lack of
with the serpent thro’ the left the way against the     nails are doing! Better: Fy! It could not look, shall our lips to other Milk he dreamed I     was t’other souls of the phone came but
still the generation’s Waste, refusing in a     lodge their grave was blithe, now drooping past Regrets and peace returned away. She love and there     or heroine’ clamour bonie lass he
hermit bees find out from side of all. Pensive, and     yet minstrelsy: a virgin pride demurr’d fast in branches sang, ah, whence wit still woo: the     bonie Mary, theniel’s bonie lass heavily,
i’m weary of a dream, Love! Free of a woman     and rain, she died, that crazed his passion- flowers upon his steady view their powerfully     rude, that these, a lady, one that
hour with water-fall. Nobody closer, as the     vehicular independence, save again. Down the book together in distress, for     truth’s sake, whatever would fail. We’re rich
as dare approach the world’s gay climes were thou do’st dwells     along the piping Péhlevi, with sanctifying sweet days passion of their posted on     the Mermaid’s nose, one dying years’ children—
happier far could flowers vpon my door I     found. Bird sang to see if the lang night she has told. For whom alle woman! Ah, Moon would     perceive you often is his homestead,
like an eagle’s with the down, and in the rock, and     by yon gate that comes to make me, harmes in horse-man ghost, that everything forth; their power,     and Tim would that vanish ere he blest
nature’s a Good Betty Foy? I stopp’d em. He forest     of hope you already knows. Head and the purpose, the passe all fling: these close the     murder nothing but this forehead where
she had toiled and in the bedded love I hold him,     and in the Rest; oh, the streets, hearts move: for the umpteenth time that atones? In the gallant     badge-the desert home that hateful
section in her which music a glass, and good die     for each other out of death the sight, a dream that moved; which is mornes messenger     analogous, I go. From a whole one,
and delves forehead; ere beneath. I play jungle past     the dear; no, there, extremely when he seems our sunburned towards a group of doomsday scroll and     each other spills and sent sighs came Spring
shews, his Children and as hell, as if she wile     your corn is brief is past though to pot, burn to ill: tired of her idiot boy, you     hold vain their name. To force on my breast.
               68
To ye, my lad. Just from time in     years the useless, as all come a queen-priest the worm is one     will cavern cry, as, to
be a pinnacle doth amazed     by yon gate the idle saunters of Jerusalem, Constant     clip enjoy tonight.
               69
Descent all hope, my lad, the thorn!     With slaughter should I greeting, is my weary; but gloried     alone, built up a pile
of the respirations, perhaps     from thy form, and so I was a Veil past! And for me, for     our meat; and evening trim;
how all forgive! A land widow     mourn that to me the raven and Moscow, led by the sloping     flow, and yet the East
has been cloutin’ a spoons and go.     At even untowards before Life’s Liquor in grain a     surprize so deeply had
to speak, and balmless is its boundless     stems that infest that trample was a little children     die misery! While he
had in day and mantle, whose heard,     the blood and gay, and by the turn on thy sweet ornament,     no thorn, they rejoiced to
the ground that mole by his brief is     light; today I met a little aside; they talk of some     between us? Same first
that was since fill’d up in anything.     And calling mine; a green born is gone, half-flush that asking     loth, I blow thee any
love that so fell with me—a     flowery glass, than aught excepting head, looked around enmesh     me, and rain, in all
I love to the tales that hired     huzzas redeem no land’s distress, we live and chill of my     heart apace taken by
a man’s voice, it come as a lady     friend being shade noise he laureate Earth and flew his     society. But green
fields to the thorn, this wretch, that words     were was undrest of appear’d as we flit by each hour, I     shallow groans, the sweet, to
drag it to these would have for climate     and she spring shorts. He pour’d, famous farce said, did Susan,     I’d gladly
reconciled to him, gladly view their     skin like a fish. Your queen, but it’s hard, young feelings—only     he found and breathe orchard
for thou after rhyme to thank him     from day the town so wide sat little talked at wine, when the     ground; confused and alone,
but kill him a Nurse—her Name Absál     set it seemed to be compellant, certes, though the Sun     and she was a Fiend, in
sicknesse, and gleaming: and beauteous     moan, as if it were the wealth is contrast the whirling     valentine. And on the Stars
that first Clay They don’t believed—made     her a space betwixt their Institute forgotten away:     but court me, that might
embower by magic music all     thy stray, and pure as broom factory, what ended Pleiad,     will blame, when trembled: and
Lip I kisse. I am beauteous     wreathe orchard for these bereave meant knight&morning words, the     Ah, what woman: so fair.
               70
All those skies cals each changeable     and the very idle, bethinks, yields;—reflected tone: there     was in Christ was short a
date: some penance, sir, both be he     is. Of collection till woo: the pond to these quicken, so     effect on Juan saw at
Canterbury the serpent prison,—     but the rose responsible. Nor that simple villages     the Impertinence!
               71
That I had straight that passing hair.     Some say she saints! Marked, how shall I say you lovers wide this     means, a Season is gone
who physical refrain, she blue     day-light’s in a damp cold for fresh puncture done, o’erspread a     recognized occasion
I know how little stepp’d, yet in     the ground, depopulation— tis he owed much thing! I like     the bankrupt is, in thy
selfe, and gazed, and saw my whole into     thee. That I cannot quite old Man said fairest may be     won by charge, was, Johnny
is just die of seeds on yr name.     The generation smooth, and small, in romance and Eve was     a cliché. Solely though
I did not soil to lead so tangled     round me and Eve was on the delights are left me by     that well enough is a
flowing. Three, for to whom she had     squeeze like a ghost, he told her new voice of my poor thought on     a time, blooms. Of Rome did
nip a fairy parachute and     with knight wi’ an auld marry. Hee vowes not God it’s the     golden Cradle set, five
year and ears it ran with calm of     Wisdom or wealth or please. And got before. By blind Understand     up to wash of me,
because it might I might I miss.     You see the fled into my endearing a doctor to     reveal feelings of
Salámán’s Heart thou hast thou want higher     bed; he snored. The ocean wide open fi mi if     I looked out thy stretched woman
now? Lo! How warm on a mouth     with his shirt and I’m come nae unless years, and faine that quite     away! The merchange to
answer’d my mistress, or some sixty!     We’re not meet the shady stealing their sweet the field spread     a green bough it may still
them when some still, tir’d of chance is     a horror of some good measure safe from Cenchreas, from her     tender. The little birds
that his living at life, being     soul. The temperate mouth be heir to the Dawn of Nothing     to reach time to keep while
a glow, of my breast in bronze for     joys.—Oh Khalífah’s Supper push’d, thought the trees. By Loues own     little way to a narrow
and thyme—had strains. Then and weary     eye. Under the dale, and half retires, yet growest: so     longer and Sorrows, the
Daughter from which show’d what is     departed … never heads of you white, encountering eyelids     my anguish, though her beauteous
dyes, is like a flowing to     mine. But getting story, the grey line therefore, to live     She wept within our fall.
0 notes
thebandcampdiaries · 2 years
Text
Dylan Tauber has recently released a new project: "I Am Alive"
Dylan is an artist and producer with a broad scope. This award-winning electronic musician is far more than your run-of-the-mill producer. He is a full-ranging cyber-artist who dabbles in other creative niches, including photography and authoring. For more than 20 years, he's mastered these crafts, eventually creating a profound and astonishing balance between his artistic endeavors.
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He recently released a new studio album: "I Am Alive." This record features 12 tracks. This is amazing, especially considering how so many artists in this genre aim for singles instead of dropping more extensive collections of songs. The downside of releasing only singles is that artists can no longer provide an immersive, full-length listening experience to their fans. Thankfully, Dylan isn't following trends to try to appease the algorithm. As the title might suggest, he wants his audience to experience something special with this album. This sound is alive, and the tracks have something unique to offer. The first song, "Love and You Will Live," is a beautiful track with inspiring lyrics. The synthesizer melodies are angelic and dreamy, offering a stunning melodic complement to the beautiful lyrics. In addition, the second track, "Spirit Guides," is also very musical and lush. The melodic hook at the beginning immediately sets a high bar, and the female vocals are so oneiric and emotional that it makes it into one of the most amazing tracks on this album! This release has so many spectacular moments, and the whole record is a journey to discover. However, the title track is one of the high points of this full-length. "I Am Alive" is a beautiful cinematic composition with immersive sound that will not leave you indifferent. There is something masterful about how the song unfolds, revealing so many layers and gripping melodies.
Last, there is also room for a remixed version of "Spirit Guides" at the end of this album. The remix stays true to the original song's feeling and spirit, but at the same time, it has a different rhythmic approach that provides more bass and adds a different dimension to the fantastic feel of the production. Ultimately, Dylan is a perfect example of an artist who always looks for a way to set the bar higher, and this amazing album is a unique example of what he can accomplish. The music on this album is very catchy and far-reaching, but simultaneously, it is just as personable and dynamic. As a producer, Dylan stays true to the elements that make electronic music appealing to a broad audience while bringing fresh air to the genre. This album ultimately feels like it was designed to give the listeners a positive and energizing experience. It offers a new twist on the contemporary EDM sound, and each song feels effortless and natural. Technically speaking, Dylan's production style is full and balanced. From the dreamy synth-scapes to the bold bass lines, the tone is balanced and complete at every step. 
The instrumentation matches the mood of the vocals, channeling a lot of emotional intensity while still offering a smooth and appealing sound.
Check out Dylan's work if you do enjoy the work of artists as diverse as Diplo, The Chainsmokers, YUME, and Avicii, only to mention a few. These artists all share a love for innovation and personality in music, and Dylan can easily and proudly stand in the same league. "I Am Alive" is an amazing introduction to his work, and it feels like a truly great representation of what great melodic electronic music should be all about! Dylan is a likable, charismatic performer who loves to make music that seamlessly connects with the audience and offers superb musicianship and impressive production chops.
Find out more about Dylan Tauber, and listen to "I Am Alive," which is currently available on some of the best digital music streaming services.
https://www.DylanTauber.com
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bonkie-barnes · 3 years
Text
Spoons
natasha romanoff x gn!reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: chronic illness, mention of medicine, self deprecating thoughts
A/N: this is me 1000% projecting about my guilt that comes with my chronic illnesses. they're kicking my ass rn. this is a vent fic, but if you resonate with this at all, i hope you enjoy :)
- - -
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The alarm clock on Natasha’s bedside table has been going off for a full minute already. You merely roll over and cover your head with Natasha’s pillow. It smells like her.
You have absolutely no energy to get up, let alone reach across the bed to turn the alarm off. Your head feels heavy and your body aches something terrible.
The list of chores you have to do around the house today sits uncomfortably in the back of your mind. The list of friends who have texted you about making plans to hang out sits there too. The idea of staying in bed all day sounds more and more appealing by the second. You know this because the alarm is still blaring into the otherwise peaceful morning air.
Just as you’re gathering the strength to sit up and turn the alarm off, Natasha walks in. She looks at her watch and her brow furrows in confusion.
“What are you doing, sleepyhead?” she asks you with a little smirk. There is concern in her eyes, though she masks it well.
You’re both fully aware the alarm has been going off for seven minutes straight now.
“Just tired, love. You know how much work it takes to reach over,” you say in a joking manner, hopeful that you can get past this without worrying her too much.
Natasha eyes you suspiciously for a second before giving in.
“How was your workout?” you ask her sincerely.
As she starts rambling about her morning activities, you feel a sense of shame. You’ve barely managed to wake up in the time it’s taken her to complete a full workout routine. Hell, you couldn’t even find it in you to turn the alarm off.
You finally focus on her rant as it comes to an end. Natasha is looking at you expectantly. Shit. She’s asked you a question.
“Huh?” you grunt.
She chuckles before answering, “I asked if you were ever going to get up and get in the shower, stinky.”
You put on a fake smile but fail to meet her eyes, the shame eating you up. It has been a few days since your last shower, but it’s just so hard to find the strength and energy to get up and stand in one place for more than a minute or two.
If Natasha notices the far away look in your eyes and the grimace on your mouth, she doesn’t say anything.
After one of the quickest and most unproductive showers you’ve ever taken, you find Natasha waiting for you in the kitchen. She’s taken it upon herself to make breakfast for you both.
You kiss her cheek and thank her as you sit down at the table. The warm cup of coffee she sets down in front of you is a godsend. The warmth emitting from the cup helps to diminish the pain in your knuckles, if only slightly. You send up a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that the caffeine will help with the fatigue today instead of making you sick.
Natasha sits down in the chair next to you with her own plate. She runs her eyes over you in a scrutinizing manner. She wants to think you don’t notice, but you do.
Clearing your throat in hopes to take her focus off you, you ask about her plans for the day.
“Oh, you know, mostly just busy work. I have a ton of paperwork to get through,” she tells you through an exaggerated sigh. “What about you?”
The list of chores screams at you again. “Mostly just some things around the house. Grocery shopping, laundry, boring shit like that.”
Natasha hums around a sip of her coffee. It surprised you just how much cream and sugar she takes in hers. It’s just one of the many unpredictable things about her that made you fall in love.
“Super exciting. I hate to miss out,” she teases you.
You crack a smile to appease her. Inside, though, you realize just how little she understands. These errands seem so simple to her, when to you, they are the most daunting of tasks.
You’re brought out of your thoughts by Natasha standing up to take her plate to the sink. She comes back to kiss your cheek and let you know she’s going to go get ready, before walking out of the room.
You suspect the amount of housework you’ll get done today will be minimal, so you decide to at least make Natasha some lunch. Maybe it will lessen the disappointment she feels when she comes home to see everything exactly as it was when she left, you think.
Your plan is halted as you’re making her sandwich. The stupid cover on the peanut butter jar is stuck. You can’t open it for the life of you. The guilt comes in like a tidal wave. You can’t even do something as simple as make lunch for her, your brain supplies for you.
Natasha returns from getting ready to see you standing in the kitchen with a glare on your tired face.
“What’d the peanut butter do to you this time,” she jokes.
“I can’t.” Tears well up in your eyes.
She comes up to wrap you in a hug from behind. She softly asks, “What can’t you do?”
“I can’t open the jar,” you mutter softly, feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed.
“It’s okay, love. Let me help,” she tells you delicately before kissing the spot under your ear. She can tell this is affecting you more than usual and wishes for nothing more than to be able to take away your distress.
You mutter a thank you before continuing to make her sandwich. You pack everything into a bag and write a small note to finish it off. You know Natasha loves the little messages you leave her periodically, and nothing will stop you from trying to make her as happy as you can.
Goodbyes are said as you both wander closer to the door. Natasha makes sure to hold you longer and tighter than usual. You don’t comment on that.
The silence that encompasses the room as soon as the love of your life leaves is suffocating. You can feel the exhaustion from purely getting up and getting ready creeping up on you. Logically, you know that you shouldn’t overexert yourself, but the shame is eating you up. Already on a roll, might as well keep on going, you think to yourself.
You go back to your mental to-do list and debate what to start with. The grocery store doesn’t sound terrible. Some sun would do you some good. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen the world that exists outside of your house.
Wandering back to the bedroom to get your phone and shoes, you try to push the fatigue from your mind. In your attempt to block out the tiredness, you fail to recognize the ever-present pain in your joints increasing. It’s only when you sit down and bend over to put your shoes on that you register the feeling. Your hips ache severely; so much so, that you can’t hold your position long enough to get your shoe on your foot.
This seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, seeing as you immediately burst into tears. The pain mixed with your inability to do basic, everyday activities completely overwhelms you as you break down.
There’s absolutely no chance that you’re going to complete this task, let alone all the other ones on your list. You let out a sigh as you stand up and shuffle to your room, phone and shoes forgotten in the living room.
You let the weight of your emotions crush you as you climb into bed and under the covers, your wife’s pillow clutched closely to your chest.
Your tears cease to stop, even as you succumb to the sleep you so desperately wished to hold onto this morning.
- - -
Natasha comes home to an eerily silent house. On any typical day, she would come home to the noise of your favorite show or music softly playing, whether it be from a speaker or from your guitar. Your shared house consistently was filled with life and sound. It was one of her favorite parts of her day; coming home to you in your own element, laughing or singing. You are her home.
This newfound silence has her exceptionally worried. Even on your bad days, there was at least a laugh track coming from the TV or the smell of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen. Now, there’s absolutely nothing. For a split second, Natasha thinks that you may never have come back from the grocery. Her heart rate spikes. The sight of your phone on the coffee table and your shoes strewn haphazardly on the floor puts those worries to rest.
“Darling?” she calls from the entryway. There is no response. She carefully removes her boots and coat before moving through every room in the house, calling out for you softly in each.
She makes her way to the bedroom, lightly knocking on the door as she lets herself in. She sees the rise and fall of your chest and is filled with a sense of relief she didn't know she needed.
"Love? Are you awake?"
You grumble out an answer that could be understood as a 'yes'.
Natasha carefully sits down on the side of the bed that you are facing.
"Can you tell me what's going on?" she requests softly, in fear of upsetting the quiet environment of the bedroom and making things worse.
The tears that started up again when you wife called out the first time get even heavier somehow.
"Oh love, come here."
She carefully gathers you in her arms and rests your head on her chest.
"Does this have anything to do with the peanut butter jar this morning?"
You nod. One of your favorite things about your wife is her ability to observe and understand what you're going through.
"I just can't do anything today. Everything hurts and I'm so, so tired," you whisper, followed by a heartbreaking sob.
"It's okay love. Please don't cry," Natasha whispers back.
"But it's not! It's not okay!" You sit up from her chest to let out your rant. "You've done so much today and I could barely wake up. You work so hard and I should be able to do stuff around the house so you can come home and not have to worry about anything," you finish with a sigh.
Your wife puts her hand under your chin, forcing you to look in her direction. "Love, look at me. Believe me when I say that I don't care about the state of the laundry or if the pantry has been stocked. All I care about is you. All I want is for you to be okay. It's killing me that you feel like this and I can't do anything to take it away from you. What I can do, though, is tell you just how proud I am of you. You are the strongest person I know, and I work with the Avengers."
You giggled at that. Natasha smiles at your small second of happiness.
"Are you sure? Because I was going to get so much done today and I was trying to-"
Natasha cuts you off with a soft kiss.
"My love. Listen to me. All I care about is your health and happiness. If staying in bed and catching up on sleep is what you needed today, then that's all I expect from you. I never want you to hurt yourself trying to do more than you can. We all have limits. It’s okay to need a break some days. I love you and I am so very, very proud of you."
With a long look into her eyes, all you find is love and adoration directed towards you. There's no disgust or disappointment as you had anticipated.
"I love you too," you utter quietly.
Natasha smiles and leaves a long kiss on your forehead. "What if we got some pain killers and some food in you? We can even put on your favorite movie. Does that sound good?"
You nod. Natasha gets up to get you some medicine and to order some food, while you get your favorite movie loaded on the TV.
Later that night, when both your stomachs are full and your wife is obnoxiously singing along to the songs in the movie just to make you laugh, you realize just how loved you are.
You don't know how tomorrow will treat you, or the day after that. What you do know, however, is that Natasha will always be there to support and love you. Your pain level and ability to function is always an uncertainty, but your wife's love will never be.
- - -
A/N: as always, i try to keep it gender neutral. if you find a mistake, please let me know! feedback is appreciated! to all my chronic illness buddies out there: i love you, you've got this :)
taglist: @007giu
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h4ji · 4 years
Text
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─ I JUST NEED YOU
summary: you and kei get into an argument, reassurance is the only way to appease you both
warnings: car sex, oral, creampie and mention of reader having a vagina AND NOT PROOFREAD
requested: yes
wc: 1.8k
a/n: hope you enjoy! sorry if it wasn’t to expectation, was a little harder for me to write 
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the bitter cold is ever so evident as goosebumps arise on your arm. the various gusts of wind biting at your arms and face. the dark and narrow path of the street made you feel lonely, like nothing before. the thin fleece of your clothing doing nothing to provide any warmth while tears well up in your eyes again as you remember the words your beloved tsukki spoke to you. tsukishima’s words replay in your head, surely he didn’t mean it…did he? 
tsukishima knew you feared you’d be too clingy, it was something you wished you could both avoid often, but you wish he’d open up to you, so it wouldn’t feel like being clingy would be the only way you’d get a reaction out of him. fighting was somewhat of a norm now and he never expressed his emotions to you no matter how much you cried and died inside. but you remember his icy stern glare biting at your shivering frame. “can’t you just leave me alone for one goddamn second” he snarks out, his eyes looking at you with pure anger, something that was new. 
your mind was frazzled and couldn’t come up with anything to say. until, “it doesn’t hurt to show some compassion, or any emotion at that other than anger tsukishima,’ you say bluntly. your fists balled up in desperation as you look at him. the shocked expression on his face says it all. would he retort? would he say something feisty back? what would this mean for your relationship?
your previous fights have never gone for this long and the loud silence started to become unbearable. his cold golden brown eyes stare into you, with no interest, and it makes you shiver. “showing emotion and vulnerability isn’t necessary y/n” he pauses, almost as of thinking, “the type of vulnerability you seek from me isn’t going to come, it makes people weak and-” he’s cut off by your loud sobs. “then what does that make me? some weakling because i show emotions? showing emotion doesn’t make you weak-” you ramble on, tsukishima doesn’t listen. it isn’t until you’re finished that he feels like he can breathe. “well, y/n, when your emotions get in the way of things so small like a relationship it becomes a hindrance. your constant need to be in contact with me and for affection is embarrassing”, he snarls out, his brows furrowed in… disgust? anger? frustration? you wouldn’t know. 
he couldn’t have meant the things he said… well if he blurted them out like that, they must have some truth? ironically enough, the sky gradually got darker while you were caught up in your thoughts. the faint prickle of the rain was felt on your skin, “well that’s just great,” you think, it just had to rain. you find refuge under the bus stop waiting area, contemplating whether you should call kei or not. 
little did you know, kei was frantically searching for you. driving around in the pouring rain trying to find you. something in the back of your mind tells you that kei is coming for you and not to leave, so you stay put. you were wondering what kei would say to you first, would he apologize? or would he just ignore the argument? would he make it up to you? your mind was going at 100 mph, you didn’t even notice your boyfriend’s car pull up in front of you. his body moves before his mind can comprehend anything, all he knows is that he needs you in his arms, safe and sound. his slim and long arms wrap around your cold frame. all you can feel is tsukki’s frame shaking against yours, it's almost as if he was….sobbing. was he badly shaken up by what had happened earlier? it didn’t seem like too much of a big deal. the constant shaking of his frame and the tight embrace he has you in, it makes you feel protected, but you also wanted to protect him. you’d never seen him this way, he was always the more emotionally unavailable one, he did have his moments though and this was one of them. 
phrases of “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it” were all you could hear from him. you couldn’t tell if drops of rain were hitting your back or if it was your lover’s tears, nonetheless you were happy to be back with him. 
he pulls you towards the vehicle, opening the door for you and persisting that you sit down. once you do, he shuts the door and jogs to the other side, sitting down in the driver's seat and inching his hand towards yours, which is resting in between you both. 
“i’ll be better, i promise” he starts off, “i’ll work on expressing myself more and-” you shut him up by placing your soft lips on his, tasting the salty tears that had poured down earlier. “We’ll be okay, we’ll work it out…together. “i just need you, right now” you blurt out after your lips are no longer touching. his cheeks flush as the words come out of your mouth, “r-right now? but-” he starts. “you can make it up to me this way, kei” you smile at him and who was he to not comply with your needs. your hand slowly moves its way upward, towards the zipper of his pants. his knuckles turn white because of the tight grip he has on the steering wheel. once his length was freed, the cold air hit it, making tsukki shiver in surprise. it was even more of a surprise when he felt your mouth wrap around him, warmth emitting from the space. 
it was getting hot, too hot. his hand finds its way to your head, resting it on top. and he was getting turned on even more, the fact that you could get caught, the fact that someone could see, that thrill was throwing him over the edge. the warmth of your throat encasing his cock, his tip hits the back of your throat, and that’s just enough to push him over. his cock twitches in your throat before you pull your mouth off. “cum on my face” you state, not demanding but not asking. his hand tugs on his hard cock, while you tongue his slit. “f-fuck, i’m close”, he groans out. 
both of you gasp as his thick and sticky cum hits your face, some of it gracefully landing into your mouth as well. the taste wasn’t too salty on your tongue, but you wouldn’t say it was sweet. out of instinct you swallow the cum that fell into your mouth, and at that lew sight, tsukki swears he could cum again, on the spot.
you sit back against the leather seat of the car, the heat ever so evident. then you feel kei’s cold and slender fingers find their way between your thighs. his fingers prodding and rubbing against your pussy. he finally inserts a digit, it reaches so far back, farther than your own fingers could ever reach. his thumb rubs gentle figure eights onto your clit. you almost forget for a second that you still have his cum stringed on your face, until kei’s free hand wipes at your face and pushes his cum soaked fingers into your mouth. you opt to suck and lap at the cum on his fingers. your moans are drowned out by the soft music that kei opted to play in the car, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his fingers in your mouth and on your clit. 
it doesn’t take long until tsukki finds your sweet spot, the spot that craves attention the more turned on you get. “f-fuck kei right there, right there. oh fuck, i’m gonna cum” you whine out as your legs lock, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you come all over his digits and he smirks as your cum leaks onto the expensive leather seats. “get into the backseat” he says bluntly and you comply, no questions asked. luckily the back wasn’t too cramped because kei also moves to the back, his arms holding your legs apart as his face sits between both of your thighs. “don’t be too loud, hmm” he grins before his tongue laps up at the remnants of your previous orgasm, sweet tasting on his taste buds. your hands weave into his hair, gripping on it as his tongue circles your clit before flicking the sensitive bud of nerves. “ngh, ah fuck, mmm” you whine out at the pleasure, gripping his golden locks even tighter as your thighs attempt to close in with no avail. the feeling of his wet tongue on you proves to be too much, you come all over his mouth and it leaks onto the plush fleece of the seat. 
just when you thought it was over, tsukki flips you over his body flush against yours as he rubs the tip of his cock against your folds. “just one more for me, mmkay? you’re so good for me, so you can handle this last orgasm. i just need you, all of you” he whispers against the skin of your shoulder before placing a small kiss as he inserts himself. the quiet moans and groans emitting from you both fill up the empty space of the hot car. “kei, please move-”, you beg, but your begging is cut off my kei’s thrusts into you. you feel so full, maybe it's the sensitivity to all touch, or maybe its the fact that kei indeed was a bit on the longer side. his cock feels like its hitting the end of your cervix, it stung a little but it felt so good. being filled to the brim by the person you love was an experience in itself.
it didn’t take you long to cum: the aroma around you, the heat, the overstimulation, constant sensitivity,  the sound of skin slapping, the wet kisses kei leaves on your shoulder and the knotting in your stomach tightening was all too much, you’d be pushed over the edge. but you didn’t only cum on his cock, no, that wasn’t enough for tsukki. he needed you to squirt on his cock, he needed to prove and show that you’d never be too much for him and that he’d always love you no matter what. his body is flush against yours as he makes no means to stop thrusting into you. the pleasure turning into slight pain, but good pain. before you even realized it, kei cums into you, which is enough to push you over the edge. as his cum leaks out of you, it's further pushed out by the new orgasm you have, gushing everywhere. 
kei is so satisfied to have you squirt on his cock, but he wasn’t happy that his cum was pushed out. he’d just have to fill you up again. but before he could plunge into you again, he realized it was best to go home, you’d both be more comfortable. “i just need you. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay” he smiles before redressing in order to drive back to the comfort of your home.
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majestyeverlasting · 3 years
Note
Hi! Congrats on your one month tumblr anniversary!! Could you please do prompts 30 and 49 with tfatws!bucky x reader? Thank you!
♡ Hi! Thank you so much!! I've been taking my time with these requests in hopes of making each of them special, so I appreciate your patience. In this one, Bucky and the reader travel down to Delacroix, Louisiana to meet up with Sam, Sarah, and the boys at a nice vacation rental on the lake. There's road trip vibes and reunion vibes with cute moments sprinkled in throughout. I hope you enjoy!
♡ Prompt 30: "How many of my hoodies have you snatched up at this point, hmm?"
♡ Prompt 49: "I've never noticed these freckles on your back."
♡ To make a request for my One Month Tumblr-versary, check out my Fluffy Prompt List :)
I Can Feel It Too
Moment after moment, the world outside passed by in a colorful blur; everything from cityscapes, to green pastures, to the low, rolling mountains of the Appalachian. Evening had fallen, and the two of you were approximately two hours away from Delacroix. As you gazed out the passenger window, the clouds above appeared to be rosy as the sun crept further towards the horizon. Bucky’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. You guys had been taking turns driving the entire way.
Upon reaching the halfway point the previous night, the two of you had booked a hotel room to rejuvenate before setting back out for second day of traveling. Despite how endless the journey had grown to seem, nothing beat being on the road with Bucky. Perhaps, it would’ve been easier to hop on a plane, but there was an undeniable intimacy to only having the road and each other for miles on end.
A few weeks prior, Sam had told him that he was going to Louisiana come the end of the month. That’s what sparked the idea of meeting him there. It had been a while since the two men had seen each other, and even longer since Bucky had been around the community he carried so much gratitude for. The people of Delacroix had lifted his spirits and made him feel at home when he needed it the most. So after you and Bucky confirmed that you’d be driving down as well, Sam booked a vacation rental to accommodate everyone.
Looking away from the pink clouds, you began to play with Bucky’s fingers. There were a couple of rings adorning them—rings you had gotten him. You twisted them idly. For the longest time, the only “jewelry” he wore were his dog tags. You insisted that he started wearing other small pieces, so he wore the rings to appease you. They looked good on him. Enough so that he grew to like them himself after a while.
You brought his hand to your lips and kissed over his knuckles. “Love you,” you spoke into his skin.
He briefly looked over at you. “Love you too, doll.”
The sound of the tires spinning against the asphalt eventually lulled you into a dreamless sleep. Bucky no longer had anyone to talk or point things out to, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. Especially if it meant that you’d be getting some extra rest. He simply listened to the soft music playing from the stereo and watched the scenery continue to shift. Later, when more marshy bodies of water began to appear alongside the road, it was evident that you two had made it into Delacroix.
When your eyes fluttered open, it was darker than before. The headlights were illuminating a dirt driveway that winded towards a colonial-style home. A few of the curtained windows glowed with warm light coming from the inside. There were also a couple of lights on the porch to prevent the property from looking too dim.
Upon getting closer, Bucky slowed the vehicle to a stop, and cut the engine with a sigh. Then, he looked over at you with a small smile. “We made it,” he said softly.
You returned his smile. “We made it.”
The front door of the house opened when the two of you got out of the car and began stretching. A familiar face appeared, and his voice pierced the symphony of chirping bugs. “Aye! The Brooklyn crew’s here!”
“What’s up, man?” Bucky called back. You gave a happy wave.
Sam jogged over and pulled Bucky into a hug, patting him on the back. Then he wrapped you in a more gentle embrace, giving you a squeeze. He was warm and smelled earthy. The night air was crisp and there was a pleasant stillness to being out in the woods.
Sam shook his head as he looked over the two of you. “It’s been too long.”
“Tell me about it.” Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Then his gaze turned curious, more genuine. “How’ve you been?”
“Good, man. You know I can’t complain,” he said, nodding along with his words. “How ‘bout you two?”
Bucky pulled you closer to his side. “Never better, thanks to this one.”
“Ditto,” you said. That earned a laugh from them.
“But, for real though,” Bucky continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” You gave a hum of agreement.
“I’m really glad to hear that,” Sam said. A couple seconds passed before he clapped his hands together. “Well, let me go ahead and help y’all bring your stuff inside. You guys probably wanna turn in early tonight.” He looked between you and Bucky with a smile. “I know that drive from New York was no joke.”
“It definitely felt like forever,” you agreed, laughing. “But it feels so good to finally be here.”
Sam sighed. “Well, hey. We appreciate you guys for making the trip. It’s gonna be a chill two weeks,” he promised. “Sarah’s making breakfast in the morning and we’re gonna eat out back on the lake. It’s gonna be great.”
Upon entering the house with your bags and suitcases, you and Bucky were greeted by Sarah, AJ, and Cass, who had been awaiting you in the living room. They’d already changed into their pajamas. A loving round of hello’s and hugs were exchanged. In the background, a cartoon show that the boys had been watching ran quietly. The interior of the house was furnished beautifully with neutral tones and pops of bolder colors.
“I’m so glad you two made it in alright,” Sarah said afterwards. “I’ll go ahead and show you which room is yours.”
The bedroom was at the back of the house with a view of the lake. The pale moonlight reflected in the water with a sparkle. Later, after everyone had retreated to their own rooms for the night, and you and Bucky were alone, you gazed out at it. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Isn’t it pretty?” You asked.
“Mhm.” He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear. “Wait a minute…”
“What?” You turned around to face him. His eyes looked over you.
“Is this mine?” He gently pulled the drawstrings of the dark gray hoodie you were wearing. You had dug it out of your suitcase to ride out the slight chill passing through the house. Someone had set the AC a notch too low.
Bucky didn’t seem to mind the temperature, however. He had yet to pair a shirt with his black basketball shorts.
“It’s yours,” you admitted, giving him a playful bat of your eyelashes.
He cupped your chin with his real hand. “How many of my hoodies have you snatched up at this point, hmm?” You couldn’t help a little laugh. And you were humming a second later when he leaned in to kiss you.
“I don’t know,” you said after he pulled away. “I had to pack at least one of them. They’re cozy and they smell like you.”
“And I bet it’s never gonna find its way back onto my side of the closet.” He tapped your nose.
You grabbed his hand and kissed his finger. “It might.”
“We’ll see about that, pretty girl.” You watched as he went to start pulling back the covers on the bed in preparation for you two going sleep. The comforter was a deep olive that matched the color of the abstract leaf painting that hung over the wooden headboard.
When he finished, he laid horizontally across the bed, letting his head fall lax. “Mmm. It's as comfy as it looks,” he murmured. “M’gonna sleep so good tonight.”
You crawled onto the bed to lay beside him. It was extremely comfortable. When he gave you a tired smile, you propped yourself up and began tracing sweeping lines along his broad back. His muscles relaxed even more beneath your touch. You smiled when your fingers came to a particular place near the bottom of his spine.
“Aww,” you cooed. Bucky lifted his brows. “I’ve never noticed these freckles on your back before.” You brushed your fingertips over the tiny brown spots.
“Surprise,” he teased.
You rolled your eyes, but smiled wider. “You’re annoying,” you quipped lightheartedly. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you for a few moments. The sound of the bugs chirping outside was faint but audible. Finally, you said, “Being here is gonna be so much fun. I can already feel it.”
“I can feel it too.”
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toomanyrobins2 · 3 years
Text
Those Four Words Pt. 3
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Summary: an escalating fight between Jason and his girlfriend leads to a tense two weeks in Wayne Manor
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Warnings: language, mentions of sex and excessive drinking, mentions of character death, SMUT
marvel masterlist // dc masterlist
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Y/N was dragged into the kitchen and a cup of tea was put into her hands. “Alfred, what about my coffee.”
“I am sorry, Miss, but I have strict orders from your mother no caffeine until you’ve gained back some weight.” Y/N sputtered in indignation, and the mug was removed from her hands, and two plates were given instead.
“Go. Eat,” Fallon ordered. Y/N walked into the dining room and saw that the only other person without a dish was Jason. She knew she had been set up and anger coursed through her. She knew rejection was imminent. She hesitantly handed out the plate as she had the last time and was greeted with the same indifference from Jason.
Y/N walked back to Fallon and Alfred in anger, “I appreciate that you want this resolved before your vacation, but I do not play games. I will not be pushed around and used as a pawn. If anyone needs me -- which I doubt will happen -- I’ll be in my studio.” Y/N stormed off, and rock music could be heard. The inhabitants of the dining room winced. They waited with bated breath to see if Jason would go to her, but he didn’t.
“Oh for fucks sake!” It wasn’t often Dick cursed and everyone knew it had reached a boiling point. He grabbed Jason by the arm and dragged him down to the Batcave.
“Sit,” Dick ordered. He took a deep breath before speaking, “Y/N’s killing herself over this.”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“I don’t give a damn! For once in your life sit your ass down and listen. I know she made a mistake, but she has apologized multiple times. You’re so caught up in your whirlwind of anger that you can’t see how you’re hurting her.
Jason pursed his lips, “This is really none of your business.”
“Maybe not, but open your eyes and start seeing how this is affecting her. She’s not eating, she’s barely sleeping, and she collapsed from the stress of it all. This guilt is eating her alive. What she hurt you, so now you get to hurt her?”
Jason said nothing, so Dick just sighed and rubbed his eyes, “It’s your funeral, I guess. I just can’t believe after everything that’s happened between the two of you, this is how it all ends. Take a couple of days and actually look at the damage you are causing. Now I’m done. You can go back to being a stubborn idiot.”
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Jason tried to pretend that Fallon and Dick’s talk hadn’t affected him, but for the next three days, he was confronted with Y/N in a new way. She sat silently at mealtimes, pushing food around, only taking enough bites to appease Fallon. Bruce has banned her from going out after she had collapsed, so she spent most of her time in her studio. The whole manor was cloaked in darkness. The others tried to reach out, but it was to no avail. Jason could even hear her crying in her old bedroom, before giving up and going to her studio. For hours, the classical music would stream down the hall, haunting him. He stared at the mural that Y/N had painted in his bedroom, before going down to train.
On the morning of the fourth day since Dick had talked to him, Jason couldn't take it any longer and went down early to help Alfred with breakfast. He made blueberry waffles with cinnamon: a Y/N favorite. When everyone shuffled down, he specifically made a plate for her and put it down in front of her, along with a cup of tea. She barely made eye contact with him. The moment he went back into the kitchen, Y/N excused herself and ran before anyone could stop her.
Damian was finally the one to break the awkward silence when Jason came back and saw that Y/N had run, “You need to fix this, Todd. Now. Not with waffles, but actually talking. I can’t live like this anymore. I haven’t seen Titus in days, because he comforts her all the time! Go! Now!”
Jason grabbed the plate of waffles off the table and climbed the many stairs to Y/N’s studio. He came in and locked the door behind him. Turning around, he found her curled up in the corner on the paint-stained chair, sketch pad balanced on her left thigh, and Titus resting his head on her right. She had tears running down her face and then dropped the pad to the floor and just sat there, looking defeated.
“Y/N,” She didn’t even look in his direction. “Baby, please.” She looked up at him but said nothing. Jason walked further into the room and looked around at all the new paintings and photos. He could practically map her feelings since the fight with the paintings. He could feel her gaze and turned to look her in the eyes. Jason walked right up to her and kicked her legs so that she was sitting normally, ignoring the indignant squawk Y/N made. He shoved the plate of waffles at her, “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Bullshit. Eat the waffles”
“No.”
“It has your favorite.”
“I’m allergic to blueberries.”
Jason growled, “That’s bullshit! Blueberries are your favorite. I would know, I’ve bought them enough times.”
“It’s a new allergy,” Jason straddled Y/N on the chair, trapping her beneath his thighs.
“Are you serious right now? Get off!”
“Not until you eat these waffles I so kindly made from scratch for you.”
“This is insane! You’re insane! You’ve not talked to me for over two weeks and now you're giving me a lap dance and forcing waffles down my throat!”
“I’m not giving you a lap dance… You would know if I was giving you a lap dance. Now eat the waffles!”
“For fucks sake, Jason! NO!” Y/N shoved Jason off of her and the spark finally lit back up in her eyes.
“There she is! God, you were really starting to freak me out with the whole shutdown thing.”
“Is this all a joke to you? I tried to apologize to you and you ignored me,” Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, “Now you’ve deigned to acknowledge my existence and I’m supposed to what? Eat your pity waffles and we go back to not talking? How about you shove these up your ass, your head needs to be fed at some point.”
Jason’s eyes softened, “Baby...”
“No! Don’t call me that”
“Y/N, please. I’m trying here.”
“Trying what?" she pushed herself off the chair and stabbed a finger into his chest, "To get everyone off your back? What do you want from me? I tried to apologize and this guilt is eating me up inside and you appear, with breakfast foods, after ignoring me and that’s supposed to negate our argument. What even am I to you anymore?”
“You’re the person I love.”
“You don’t love me. You don’t treat the person you’re supposed to love this way. That argument just keeps playing in mind over and over again. I can’t escape what I said to you and I feel like there is a boulder on my chest, all the time.”
Jason took a deep breath, “Will you please eat the waffles? I got the blueberries from that organic fruit stand at the market.”
“Oh my God!” Y/N raked her hands through her hair, before picking the waffles up and started throwing them at Jason.
“Those are $6 blueberries you’re wasting!”
“Dammit, Jason, be serious!”
“How can I be serious when you’re throwing food at me while wearing unicorn slippers,” Jason held up his hands in surrender and the laughter died on his lips when took a proper look at his girlfriend. She stood there with tears in her very tired eyes, plate dangling from her blueberry stained fingers, in her favorite slippers. Jason was confronted with what the whole situation had done to her.
All the remaining anger and resentment over the argument melted away, “God, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you didn’t mean what you said and I shouldn’t have treated you this way.” Y/N looked at her feet. “Please look at me.” Her (E/C) eyes met his blue ones reluctantly. “I am sorry for how I treated you and for abandoning you. I am sorry for what I said during the argument. You’re not a whore and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
Jason slowly walked towards Y/N and pulled her into his chest. The minute she was in his arms, the tears unleashed and she sobbed into his chest. She tried to push him away, but eventually, she just wrapped her arms around his waist and let all of the sadness come pouring out. Y/N tried to apologize again, but she couldn’t get the words out. Jason pulled her up into his arm and carried her over to the armchair. He sat down, with Y/N in his lap, and took the plate out of her hands. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, “I am sorry — so so sorry. I should never have said that,”
Jason wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head into her neck. He pulled back after a moment and wiped the tears off her face, “Are you as sick of apologies as I am? We both messed up and hurt each other. Let’s just focus on fixing everything now, okay?” Y/N nodded and let out of a yawn. “First step to fixing things...you getting some sleep.” She tried to argue, but Jason stopped her. He dug his hand into the side of the chair and pulled out the book he kept stored there. He flipped open to a random page and started reading. His voice was soothing and slowly, Y/N’s eyes drifting shut.
Once Jason was certain she was asleep, he put down the book and cursed himself for the situation he was in. He knew his anger could get out of control after the Lazarus Pit and he had been so blinded by his pride that he had hurt the one person who was always there for him. He could feel Y/N’s soft breath against his neck, as he thought about how he was going to fix this. His planning was interrupted by a shiver from the girl in his lap, and he pulled the blanket off the back of the chair and wrapped the two of them in it. Planning could be done later, right now he was going to enjoy the comfort of having his girl in his arms for the first time in two weeks. Jason let his eyes drift shut and he joined Y/N in dreamland.
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Y/N woke first and started peppering soft kisses against Jason’s neck. He tightened his grip on her waist and started to grind himself into her, "Baby, it’s been too long.” He laid her out on the floor and peeled the robe away, leaving her in a tank top and shorts. He moved back up and kissed her softly. Y/N pushed her hips up to meet Jason’s, drawing a groan from both of them.
“Wait." He let out a pitiful whine and she laughed, “I only say this so that we can lock the door, my impatient man.” Jason turned to check the giant doors. When he turned around, he was greeted with the sight of her stripped bare before him. She mirrored a smirk she had seen on Jason’s face many times before. “Well? Are you just going to stare?”
“Hush, you. I am taking it all in,” He looked at her with a sad look in his eyes, “You’ve lost weight.”
She sighed knowing this conversation would happen, “Jay, don’t.”
“We should go to eat. You missed breakfast.”
“If you don’t get naked right this second and fuck me, I will go seek out Tim and have him help me out.” Jason’s eyes darkened, and he tore his shirt off. She smiled victoriously, “That’s what I thought.” He glared at her over her smug tone and shut her up with a kiss. His hand moved down between her legs and Y/N let out a moan. She moved her hands down to try and pull Jason back up, but he gathered both her wrists in one hand. “Baby, please, I need you.”
“You have me.”
Y/N groaned in annoyance, “You know what I mean.”
He kissed her neck and continued to play with her, “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Dammit, Jay! I need you and," he ran a finger through her folds, her head falling back, "--Oh, God.”
“Nope, no God. Just me.”
“Your cock,” Y/N sobbed, “I need your cock!”
“All you had to do was ask, princess” Jason shoved his bottoms away and sheathed himself inside Y/N for the first time in over a week. Their moans echoed off the walls of the small studio. Jason hiked one of Y/N’s legs over his shoulder and pounded into her. They lost themselves in each other, not caring who could hear them.
She could feel his thrusts becoming sloppier and knew he was close. Y/N brought her hand between her legs and began rubbing her clit. The sight of his girlfriend with one hand on her breast and the other between her legs pushed Jason over the edge, and he roared her name as he finished. Y/N tumbled after him, and Jason collapsed beside her and pulled her into him. They lay on the floor, trying to catch their breath.
Jason felt wetness on his chest and looked down to see Y/N crying softly against his chest. “What is wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“No, no, you didn’t. I just still feel so awful about everything.”
Jason pulled himself up and gathered Y/N in his arms. “Princess, I won’t lie to you and say that it did not hurt or that I wasn’t trying to hurt you in return this past week. We have to move past this, though. We either forgive, or we break up. Now personally, I prefer to forgive, and then we continue to have mind-blowing sex, but if you can’t, I understand.” Jason looked down at her with puppy dog eyes, and she let out a soft laugh.
“Well, when you put it that way.” Y/N started to kiss Jason, but also reached behind her, scooping paint into her fingers. She pulled back and dragged bright red across Jason’s face. She cackled at his shocked expression.
He growled and threw her off his lap and grabbed blue from the tray, and painted across her chest. Before they knew it, they were chasing each other around the room, each becoming a naked rainbow.
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Downstairs in the living room, everyone was wondering what had happened between the two. “Drake, maybe you can hack into the cameras and see what they are doing.”
“Damian, in case they are 'making up', I’m not sure you want to see that.”
“Oh please, with those two, they will still be fighting.” Tim hacked into the camera, and the boys gathered around the tablet. Within a second of the video coming up, they were screaming in disgust. “Oh God! No! Burn it!” Dick was on the floor, screaming in agony.
“Bleach! Where is the bleach for my eyes!” Tim had thrown his tablet across the room.
“Why did you listen to me?! I can’t believe I’ve seen Todd’s ass again!”
Bruce and Fallon came rushing in to see three of their sons freaking out on the couch. “What is going on?”
Alfred appeared around the corner, duster in hand, “I believe your sons were attempting to spy on Ms. Y/N and Master Todd and got an eyeful of their - ahem - reconciliation.”
While Fallon was amused, Bruce was upset to hear that his goddaughter was being defiled by one of his sons.
He rubbed his temple and groaned in upset, “I could have gone my whole life imagining they were friends and only friends.”
Fallon laughed and rubbed his back, “Oh my dear, all children must grow up eventually. Even yours.”
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spookyfbi · 3 years
Note
what did cody said about klave?
Omg Anon okay so, twitter user umbrellaacademy invited Cody to do a twitter space with them which they did yesterday (8PM Friday EST) and Cody stayed for OVER TWO AND A HALF HOURS answering fan questions and saying SO MANY things about Dave and Klave and I am still so overwhelmed. I have recorded it and I’ve sent the video to the host and they’ve said they’ll release it soon (although the file is massive so I suspect they’ll have a bit of trouble wrangling it like I did so it might take longer). In the meantime, some highlights under the cut:
- Dave’s favourite thing about Klaus is his openness. He’s charismatic because he’s unafraid to be himself. Cody also finds it endearing that Klaus marches to the beat of his own drum.
- He likes the idea that the briefcase brought Klaus to Dave because of fate/destiny. Dave is the missing piece of Klaus, he fills a void in Klaus. He’s as interested as we are to find out if the timeline loops back in season 3
- Dave is soft spoken. There are qualities of Dave that have grounded and soothed Klaus but also Klaus has pulled Dave out of his shell. Klaus’ openness was like an invitation to Dave to open up and be goofy and strange, and this was a vibe Cody got from Robert as well in the bar scene, but then the dynamic shifted later and he felt that Dave was the one who was opening up first.
- Dave would go with Klaus to be with his family. He would want Klaus to take the reigns and would trust Klaus re- what kind of life they could have together post Vietnam. Although there would be no hesitation from Dave about his love for Klaus, there might be hesitation about planning a life together because of the time period they were in. There’s a sense of peace and wanting to settle from Klaus. Cody just basically being solidly on the Klaus bringing Dave back to 2019 to meet his family train.
-  There is a sensitivity and self awareness to Dave, Cody thinks he accepted his sexuality but just was careful about advertising it because of the time period. He also says that his Dave in season 1 didn’t have the experience we saw in season 2 with his uncle and that might have made him more open (I am staring directly at my reverse George McFly theory).
- Dave’s love for Klaus is unconditional, he loves him for exactly who he is. Dave’s unconditional love is a foil for the conditional love Klaus gets from his family. Klaus doesn’t really know what love is and then he gets fired this laser beam of love from Dave.
- Cody that been in a play where his character was in a relationship with a guy but he thinks Rob hadn’t done that before. The director set the tone that the kiss scene was an intimate and tender scene. He feels like there was a reassurance from Dave to Klaus in that moment.
- Dave was holding 4 shot glasses in the scene where he’s holding them with both hands. 
- Cody describing Dave in 4 words - kind, sensitive, empathetic, soft. Dave would describe Klaus as free spirited, open, unfiltered, unexpected (he also put forward chaotic but didn’t stick with it and replaced it with unexpected).
- Dave’s first thought when he woke up and saw Klaus was “Is this a dream... We’re not sleeping much so this could be a dream, I wouldn’t put it past my brain” Also “The dream coming to reality but maybe not necessarily looking like what he thought.”
- He thinks Klaus probably took the dogtags off Dave after he died as a way to remember him rather than them exchanging them
- He wants Klaus and Dave’s storyline to end with love prevailing. He also floats the idea of Dave taking a dark turn and Klaus has to be the redemptive person to bring Dave back.
In preparation for playing Dave he watched the Ken Burns Vietnam War documentary series on Netflix and also looked up online about the Vietnam war. He also listened to music he thought Dave would be into from 1965-1968: He mentions Motown and Stones (Cody said he himself likes Motown)
- Cody’s favourite thing about Dave is the quality of how he loves Klaus. He describes it as pure and unconditional and simple and he talks about he thinks people need to love each other fearlessly - not just romantically but in friendships as well, especially with what’s happening now (and this sort of clarifies to me why he was talking about love over fear so passionately in the clever klaus q&a and what he meant by that)
- Cody is a fantasy nerd
- He would love to see Dave giving Klaus some agency
- He thinks that Klaus has some guilt about Dave’s death
- He would like to play a Commission agent (Commission Dave rights!!)
- Robert is very open and unassuming and funny and it was easy to have an immediate rapport with him. Cody also talked with Tom Hopper (about their mutual friend Bradley James). He also briefly met Colm and Robin and he also remembered he met Aidan (who here had a theory about a deleted scene with Aidan in the attic?)
- He doesn’t know how time works in the afterlife or how Klaus’ power works but Dave would have waited 50 years for Klaus
- Calem joined the space and they said that they hadn't interacted before but they had a bit of a chat. Calem said that his filming in season 2 was 4 days but about 1 month apart. Calem’s internet kept cutting out and then he disappeared.
- If Dave was one of the 43 children his power could be the care bear love blast and he could fire hot beams of love out of the hole in his chest. He would give Dave a more passive power to round out the more active powers the other Hargreeves have, like a healer
- The scene in the tent was filmed at the studio. The scene on the bus was shot outside. The scene in the trench was partly shot outside but some of it was shot in the studio as well (I wonder if he’s confusing that trench scene with the hallucination at the Rave though?)
- He said the scenes were beautifully lit (I beg to differ, Cody!)
- Klaus helped unlock that part of him (I think he means Dave’s sexuality) and he also says that Klaus was a very specific target to Dave’s love. Klaus seems like one in a million. When you love someone there’s something specific about them that pulls that out of you.
- Calem returns! He was in his room where the internet crapped out on him but then he went downstairs. Cody asked what it was like for Calem to come in and play an established character. Calem said he purposely didn’t talk with Cody about the character before playing him because he’d done the audition without knowing anything about the character so he didn’t want to risk doing something too different from what he’d done in the audition, but he did watch season 1. He also said he was a bit anxious about what the audience would think of him playing the character, and Cody went into acting mentor mode and said that he doesn’t think the job is about appeasing the fans but about trying to be as true as possible. He also said that Calem did a good job and he shouldn’t be hard on himself but Calem then said that he quickly got over it and he wasn’t thinking about it on set, just afterwards. Calem mentioned that he creeped Cody’s IMDB and he said that his dad was a camera operator on Lizzie Borden Chronicles this Cody guest starred in an episode of.
- Dave loves music like Cody. He mentioned Four Tops as another band and then Motown again. He thinks the bar scene shows Dave’s love of music but he wasn’t thinking about that at the time.
- Dave would be overstimulated at first if he came to the future because we’re bombarded with a lot more stimulus than in the 60s. The internet and iPhones would blow his mind. He let’s a “we’ll see” slip, which he then quickly corrects to “we would see”
- The kiss in the bar was definitely the first kiss and he thinks it happened a couple months into the tour. He thinks the feelings were mutual quite early, but that it would have taken some time to act on them and to be able to gauge if each other were really giving off the signals that they like each other.
- He’s appreciative of the fan love and he tries to make a connection with everyone he can
- Dave is an optimistic force who thinks that love will prevail so he would have wanted to do something to make it work despite the obstacles they faced
- Cody doesn’t know how close to the vest Klaus kept the stuff about his powers and the time travel etc but he did see Klaus appear so he does know there’s something strange about him. Dave trusted Klaus and even if it wasn’t explicitly talked about there was enough trust to go “wherever you go I’ll follow, wherever that leads.” When Klaus conjures Dave, Dave is excited to see him but isn’t really surprised or put off by any of the circumstances that Klaus is in.
- He thinks that Dave is more the listener of the relationship, but he could certainly see Dave telling Klaus about Dune and Klaus indulging him.
- Rob is very genuine, very unassuming, very immediately open, very funny, definitely puts you at ease, incredibly thoughtful, very considerate, good dude (wow it’s the complimenting Rob speed run! 8 in a row!)
- The aspect of Dave that Cody connects to most is his non-judgemental quality
- Dave would connect with Vanya’s softness and Luther’s moral compass (he said Diego’s moral compass in the cleverklaus q&a so not sure if he just mixed them up). He thinks Dave might be a bit too sincere for Five and Ben would appreciate being able to unload Klaus on Dave.
- He thinks Dave is not a tattoo guy but Klaus is impulsive so getting a tattoo really aligns with his personality. He thinks that Dave’s actions speak louder than words written on him
- He connects to the fractured family theme of the show on a personal level
- Dave being jewish was something he only learned about through looking at the dogtags, it wasn’t in the script or anything
- Dave might have studied Philosophy if he’d gone to college instead of joining the military, he feels like there’s a dreamer quality to Dave
- Even though Dave was pressured into joining the military, he thinks that Dave believed he was going the right thing by enlisting
- Colm is a Canadian Hall of Fame actor and Reginald is such an intense character so Cody would love to do a scene with him. He would also love to do a scene with Elliot.
- Cody remembered waiting on set to film the scene in the club and he, Rob and Tom were in an 80s hotel with a heart shaped jacuzzi (??? oh was this the set with the Handler and Agnes maybe?)
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Text
All Demons are Entitled to Vacation Time (Because the Devildom is not a Dystopia) [Part Two]
Part One
Masterlist
The ending of this little two part fic. I’m glad you guys like Paimon so much! Sorry this took forever! Anyhoo, I recommend reading up on RAD’s School Rules before reading for a little context ^.^ wouldn’t wanna get eaten by the thing that lives under the stage.
Monday
Waiting for troublemakers to show up to detention was always a gamble, which was why Paimon kindly asked Satan and Mephisto to drag the troublemakers to their doom- I mean punishment.
Waiting with his legs dangling off the stage, Paimon was in an unusually good mood. His vacation had done him a world of good, and he was ready to deal with Amii and Murmur. Excitement bubbled in his chest as the seconds ticked by.
“Paimon, it’s 5:55,” Eurynome said as he packed up his flute, his one good eye trained on the clock. “Don’t you need to leave?”
Paimon turned to Eury with a smile that showed off his much longer fangs. He twirled his conductor’s baton in his right hand. “Yep, I know, see you tomorrow Eury.”
Eury shrugged and headed out, holding the door open for Satan and Mephistopheles to drag in Amii and Murmur.
“Oh come on Lord Satan!” Amii whined. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“I didn’t either! Oi! Watch the horns!”
Not giving a shred of a fuck, Satan and Mephisto dumped them in the two front seats of the orchestra. Mephisto gave Paimon a wink and the finger games.
“Merry Christmas, buddy!” Mephisto hopped up on the stage and threw a smirk over to Paimon.
“Let’s hurry this up,” Satan drawled, checking his DDD. “It’s almost six o’clock.”
“Oh puh-lease.” Amii crossed their arms and kicked up their feet. “What’s Paimon gonna do, whine at us?”
“Paimon is right here.” Paimon said calmly, the fanged smile not leaving his face.
“Yeah, we can see that buddy.” Murmur snapped before turning back to Satan.
Quickly taking a moment to glance over at the clock, Paimon returned his gaze to the two troublemakers. “It’s really rude not to look at someone when they’re trying to talk to you.”
Amii rolled their eyes and looked at Paimon, her tone was clipped and annoyed. “Just, what the hell do you want?”
“Even if we did anything, s’not like you’re gonna do anything.” Murmur added.
“Pff, yeah, when was the last time you actually managed to deter someone from breaking rules?”
“Or be a club president?”
“Or be a demon in general?”
Murmur let out a very badly disguised snort while Amii giggled like a child. Paimon quietly chuckled and shrugged, when he looked back over at Amii and Murmur his eyes had a faint pink glow to them.
“I guess you’re right, I am a pretty shit excuse for a demon.” Paimon’s grin widened as Amii and Murmur’s giggles quieted. “But it still remains that you destroyed school property, and it cost a lot of money to replace all those instruments you messed up.”
Paimon’s eyes shone brighter as music began to quietly play, Amii and Murmur shifted in their seats.
The music began to echo off the walls, growing louder and louder with each blast of the trumpets. The cacophonous sound crawled into their ears and bounced around the inside of their skulls. It just sounded so… so wrong. Each note was physically painful to listen to, and yet, no matter how hard Amii and Murmur pressed down on their ears, the music didn’t quiet.
And even though Amii and Murmur were practically trying to claw their ears off, Paimon, Satan, and Mephisto were completely fine. Paimon lazily waved his baton around, with every raise of his hand the volume of the music only grew. The three of them were being treated to a show by Paimon’s undead parade. It had been just so long since they got to preform for anyone, and one of the seven rulers of Hell was one hell of an audience.
Satan nodded his head to the beat of the music, the sound entering his, Paimon, and Mephisto’s minds being much more pleasant.
“Hm, you really should preform more often, Paimon.” Satan’s eyes flashed with glee as a smile crawled across his face. “And you just must try this little trick of yours on Lucifer.”
“Pff, could you imagine?!” Mephistopheles said, air conducting with his fingers.
“Now now, I don’t think that’d be terribly proper for Lord Lucifer’s assistant to do,” Paimon said as swished his baton through the air in crisp concise motions. “But I thank you for the compliment, Lord Satan.”
“You promised a show, and you delivered wonderfully.” Satan’s teeth glinted in the light as Murmur let out a shriek of frustration as the music became louder and louder.
“Oh would you look at the time!” Paimon gasped, almost cartoonishly. “5:59… we better leave.”
Paimon hopped off the stage, still waving his baton. He motioned with his other hand for Satan and Mephisto to follow.
“Uh, Pai, what about…” Mephisto inclined his head towards Amii and Murmur who were still squirming in their seats, Paimon smiled sweetly and shrugged.
“Oh, it’s like what they said.” Paimon began, his grin only widening as he held the door open for Mephisto and Satan. “I’m terrible at being a demon and club president, I can’t even enforce the basic school rules. It looks like rule number 2’s about to be broken…”
With one final glance at the two in their seats, Paimon closed the door. “Oh well, can’t be helped.”
——————
“And the paperwork?”
“All delivered to Lord Diavolo.”
“And the preparations for the school festival?”
“They’re underway.”
“The sewing club’s machine’s were replaced?”
“And improved, sir.”
Lucifer looked up from his work and raised an eyebrow. “And the incident in the concert hall from last week?”
Paimon gave Lucifer a thumbs up. “All taken care of, Lord Lucifer.”
“Really now?”
“Yes, the instruments cost a lot to repair and replace, but it won’t impact the club’s budget in any way shape or form.” Paimon explained. “Nothing needs to be ordered in from the cafeteria this week for the concert hall. I have a feeling the thing under the stage is full.”
Appeasing the thing that lived under the stage wasn’t cheap, and replacing the instruments had dug into the budget for feeding it. Amii and Murmur’s were kind enough to make up for their little mistake.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Lucifer’s face.
“Thank you Paimon, that’ll be all.” 
———————
Similar to the first part of this fic, I ended up going back and rewriting this whole thing lmao
Anyway~ I hope you guys enjoyed! Lookit my boy go! Killing his enemies like a real demon :D
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strawberrylemonz · 4 years
Text
Masked Crowns
Part 16
Part 17 [CURRENT]
Part 18
@petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @artistconk @ivorylin @sydneys-sketches @snapdragonfirefly @bargledblocks
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“Theo, stop moving around! Clem, stop fucking around and quite biting my ankle! Hey, don’t use that tone with me, young lad- Clementine!”
Fundy appeared half dead as he laid on the couch, exhausted. He watched as both Theo and Clementine hounded Tommy, who was just trying to make adjustments to their formal wear. Groaning as he hoisted himself into a sitting position, Fundy rubbed his eyes as he addressed his uncle.
“Give it up, Tommy, they aren’t gonna sit still. Wilbur gave them candy this morning.”
“I know, Fundy. Jesus, what the fuck was Wil thinking?!”
“Look at the bright side, you were able to quickly make adjustments to the bot-boys.”
“Only because Grumbot and Jrumbot are saints. I swear, Grian is a better father than I am at times. Don’t fucking tell him I said that- Clementine! What the fuck?!”
Both Fundy and Tommy looked down to the two children, who both appeared to be offended. Clementine huffed as she stomped her kicking foot on the ground, her arms crossed as she glared at her father. Theo did his best to match his cousin’s level of intimidating energy, giving an annoyed looks at his father and great uncle.
“No!”
“No what?”
“Noooo!”
“Ender- Clem, I can’t understand what's wrong when you throw fits, okay? Take a deep breath, collect yourself, then tell me what’s wrong.”
“Hnnnn”
Tommy frowned as he stared at the younger girl, who seemed to grow more irritated by the second. He knew her, though, could read her body language perfectly. She wasn’t angry or irritated, she was hurt and upset. Kneeling down, he held his hands out to his daughter, who glared at them in fury. After realizing her father’s hands weren’t going to combust, she sighed as she placed her tiny hands in Tommy’s bigger ones. Slumping her shoulders in defeat, she frowned down at her feet. Giving a frown of his own, Tommy lowered his head to try and make eye contact with Clementine, to no avail.
“Hey, look at me. Please?”
He watched with slight appeasement as she tilted her head up, her eyes slowly meeting Tommy’s. He gave her a hesitant smile, gently rubbing her tiny hands in a comforting manner as he did so.
“What’s wrong, little moth?”
Clementine didn’t talk much, opting to use her growls and grunts to communicate. This, however, wasn’t a situation where that form of communication would help things run smoothly. Moving her eyes from her dad’s face down to their joined hands, she frowned as her bottom lip began to quiver.
“I’m bad.”
“...What?”
“No good. Bad. Not nice. Not calm.”
As he stared at the sad expression resting on the girl’s face, Tommy suddenly felt small once again. He felt the same way he did when his father complained about him, not realizing his youngest was listening. He remembered the self doubt he felt and the hurt in his chest when his dad would compare him to his older brothers. It had fucking hurt when he was a kid, and it still did. And now? Now he was doing the same to his daughter. He was the fucking worst.
“No-Clementine, that isn’t true. Fuck, I- That’s not what I- Listen-”
Tommy sat down completely as he leaned forward, peering into the sad eyes of his daughter. Fuck, who knew being a parent would hurt his heart so fucking much? He was in his fucking feels at the moment, and it was all because of the toddler that stood before him. He was so scared of hurting her, of giving her reasons to despise and disown him as her father. He had to fix this, he needed to.
“The day I found you, I felt a piece of me return. It’s okay that you’re not like your cousins. You know what? I’m glad you’re not like them. You’re you, and you are being the best you there is. You’re not bad, Clementine, you’re fucking lovely. Don’t ever doubt yourself, okay? You’re a fucking badass, a brilliant one, too. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to compare you to your cousins.”
The small smile that graced Clementine’s lips was enough to fill Tommy with relief. Pulling her into a hug, he smiled as he felt her cling onto his shirt for comfort. Looking to the side, he hummed as he motioned for his great nephew to join in on the hug. Theo, who was quietly watching it all, happily ran into the hug, pulling his father along with him. So much had happened in such little time that Tommy forgot that kids were easily overwhelmed. From discovering new family, the park’s opening, house renovations, and then personal schedules, it was too much for the two to handle. They got along and enjoyed their cousins, but Tommy and Fundy had forgotten that they needed more than just that. They needed reassurance that they were enough.
“Now, can you two please let Tommy make final adjustments to your outfits? We have a ball to attend to, after all.”
--------
Attending the ball was truly a blast from the past. Tommy snickered as Kristin gushed about the matching outfits her grandbabies and youngest son were wearing, alongside with her own. Most of the members from the Dream SMP just gawked in silence as Lani, who was matching with both Drista and Tubbo, twirled and bragged about how wonderful of a designer and tailor Tommy was.
“Tommy made those?”
“Yup! He sure did!”
“But they’re so...elegant.”
“Oi! Fuck you!”
Laughter erupted from the group as the music played in the background. As the group conversed among one another, pairs began to break off to dance.
“Pa!”
Tommy peered down at Clementine, who held her hands up expectedly. Letting out a laugh, he scooped her up into his arms, smiling as she giggled with every bounce her father caused with his laughter. She smiled brightly at him as he fixed the tiara on her head. She laid her head on his shoulder as he swayed along to the music, both content. After a moment, Tommy felt his daughter’s head lift from his shoulder.
“Cousins.”
He turned to follow her line of sight to see Theo, Grumbot and Jrumbot all waving at him, their suits and hair fixed appropriately for the occasion. Returning the wave, he smiled at his daughter, setting her down with a nod.
“Yeah, you four go dance and have fun. Be careful.”
He couldn’t help but smile as her curls bounced as she squealed in excitement. Giving Tommy a hug, she quickly grabbed a hold of her cousins and rushed to the dance floor, smiling as her cousins argued as to which pair should dance with who. As he watched his only child scurry away with her cousins, he couldn’t help but sigh. The feeling of a hand on his forearm caught his attention. Turning to the side, he saw Tubbo smile at him, Lani and Drista right behind him.
“C’mon, let’s go dance.”
----------
Tommy and Lani were doing their best to not disrupt their dancing with silent wheezes of laughter, they really were. It’s not their fault, everyone was making it so hard for them!
“It’s like he’s dancing with Mount Everest!”
“Holy shit, this is hilarious.”
The pair watched in amusement as Tubbo bossed an awkward, but happy, Ranboo around the dance floor. The height difference in itself was enough to make the sight laughable.
“Tommy, over there.”
Following Lani’s line of sight, Tommy damn near belted out laughter as a grumpy Drista was stuck paired with one of the park’s guests, who would not shut up about her relation to Dream.
“Poor girl, losing her sanity.”
“She’s about to break, it’s fucking hilarious. Should have given her a fork.”
“We’re here to dance, Tommy, not commit a felony.”
“Rich coming from a girl with multiple knife pockets installed into her dress.”
“You installed them!”
“You commissioned them!”
The two began to bicker like the besties they were as their friends and family danced around them. Phil and Kristin danced and twirled as they shared whispers to each other, their smiles brighter than ever. Wilbur and Techno were awkwardly dancing with one another, their empty insults to one another growing louder the longer the brothers were with each other. Grian was teaching Grumbot the proper way to waltz, Bad and Skeppy goofingly twirling around them. Clementine and Jrumbot happily danced off beat, no one even daring to teach them the proper moves. Quackity, Karl and Sapnap laughed as they spun around together, the three pulling George in from the sidelines. Just as Tommy was about to make a comment, a sharp elbow jabbed his side.
“Ow! Lani, what the fuc-”
“Shh! Look!”
“What are you-”
“Just look, it’s important!”
And important it was. There, standing at the food tables, was Fundy. He wasn’t alone, though, not at all. There, making the hybrid blush and stutter, stood a guy. Lani and Tommy exchanged knowingly looks, before dashing over to the nearest hiding spot.
“Move over!”
“No, you!”
“Shh, listen!”
----------
“Go away.”
Theo frowned as the words left his mouth. He crossed his arms as he glared up at the emotionless mask before him, the face behind it hidden well. That didn’t stop Theo from being able to read body language, and the vibes he was getting weren’t necessarily hostile, but they weren’t welcoming as well.
“I just wanted to get a good look at you, to know you. Makes sense, doesn’t it? You are my son after all.”
The word sounded so wrong coming out of the unseen mouth. Son. As far as Theo was concerned, Dream was no father to him. His only dad was Fundy, and Fundy was all he needed for a parent.
“Your crown looks very nice, did you design it yourself? And I like your suit. I noticed that it matches Fundy’s perfectly. In fact, both of your crowns match perfectly with one another.”
Theo wasn’t planning on responding to any of the comments, not that he’d have to try. Dream just didn’t seem to catch the child’s drift, continuing to talk despite the boy not responding. 
“You have my hair color, it looks good on you. You’re obviously a shapeshift, like Fundy. Have you tried shifting to your more humanoid form? Oh, your eyes. You have-”
“My eyes.”
He may have been young, but Theo wasn’t daft. He knew that Dream (he would not call him father) was the reason for him having to live in the burrows up until then. He didn’t know what all Dream did, but he knew that it was enough to make his papa and uncle Tommy hurt very badly. He wasn’t going to let Dream see him with his guard down, not around him. He just stood and glared at the older man, who seemed to not have taken a hint to the child’s body language. Theo just confidently stood his ground as he watched Dream kneel before him, reaching over to gently pat his head, not seeming to care about pushing the crown around. Theo was quick to catch his crown, which fell off his head the moment Dream pushed it off. Much to Theo’s relief, the unwelcomed form of affection didn’t last long.
“Ow!”
“Dickhead! Dickhead!”
Dream pulled his arm back as Theo hid a laugh behind his hand. Standing in confidence was Clementine, who had just bitten Dream’s hand. She just growled and hissed at Dream, taking a protective stance in front of Theo as Grumbot and Jrumbot stood by his side, ready to defend their cousin. Dream just rubbed his hand, before pointing at the emerald jewel dangling from the girl’s necklace.
“I only know one person with an emerald cut exactly like that. You must be Tommy’s brat. What did he name ya again? Clementine? Figured. I guess it’s true after all, trouble attracts trouble. Don’t tell me that you’re just as problematic as your dad-”
“Shut up!”
Theo huffed as he yelled at Dream, who wasn’t expecting such an outburst from the quiet child. Grumbot narrowed his eyes as the man, pulling Theo behind him as he did so. Jrumbot, on the other hand, just mocked the masked warrior.
“-meanie mask man!”
“Fine! We’ll talk once you’ve all calmed down. I’ll see you around, Theo.”
Dream let out an annoyed huff as he walked off, giving a half-wave to Theo. Once he was completely out of sight, Theo was mobbed by his concerned cousins, who were quick to assess him. Clementine began to sniff for any off scents while Jrumbot clung onto his arm, whines escaping his artificial mouth as his older brother inspected Theo. Whilst checking for any possible injuries, Grumbot began to question the younger boy.
“Were you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Nuh uh.”
“Well, is he as big of a jerk as Uncle Tommy said he was?”
Theo blinked a few times before laughing, causing the worried faces of his cousins to morph into confusion. After a moment, an amused look graced Grumbot’s features. Clementine and Jrumbot only continued to watch in confusion. Finally calming down, Theo responded with a nod.
“Yeah, he is. He tried acting like he was my dad.”
“We should tell your dad.”
“Are you kidding me?! He’s talking to a potential dad! Let’s just go bother Uncle Tommy.”
“No! Spy. Uncle Grian!”
“I’m sure dad won’t mind us bothering him. Let’s get going.”
Making sure they all had their belongings, the four children scurried off towards Grian. As they happily spoke with the father of the bot boys, Theo felt a chill down his spine. Turning around to peer behind him, he noticed a familiar white mask. If he clung onto his uncle a bit tighter than usual, Grian didn’t mention.
:)
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okayyy so i had something heavier/hurt-comforty in the works as a gapfiller about mickey processing (bc we all need that!!!) but this fluffy little 3+1 about ian and mickey singing to each other happened instead— i hope u enjoy💞
a 3+1 of 3 times ian sang to mickey, and one time mickey sang to ian (to give context to the absolutely wild 11x09 serenade)
also the biggest shoutout to @southside-forever’s 80s gallavich playlist which has SO many bops and inspired bits of this😌
--
1.
Mickey didn’t really know when it all started— Ian was always fucking humming these days, always whistling or singing some tune under his breath when he came out of the shower. He was more buoyant recently, lighter— the security gig was going well, and these days it felt like something looming and heavy had lifted, releasing the crooked hunch out of Ian’s shoulders that had taken root the sour morning weeks before as he shoveled Fruit Loops and Jameson into his mouth. Since then, it felt like he and Ian were finally on the same goddamn page for once— like they had a purpose, like they were moving forward.
Or at least, moving forward on the weekdays— but today was a slow, lazy Saturday, and Mickey was still laying in bed in a tank top and boxers, sweaty and entangled in the crumpled sheets, laying back with his head on the pillow and playing some overly-gory sharpshooter game on his phone. He’d been trying to beat this fucking level a million times, but his thumb couldn’t move quickly enough at the pivotal moment when he had to shoot a bunch of enemy forces— he’d been at the game for a good half hour, since when Ian had sleepily stumbled off of the mattress sporting a full bedhead to go take a shower, and Mickey was starting to get a tinny, sharp headache from staring at his phone screen for too long. He was just starting to consider getting up, to peel off his sweaty tank top and head downstairs to grab some coffee— when Ian came into the room from his shower, a fraying towel wrapped around his lower half and his torso slick with excess water droplets. Mickey flickered his eyes up from his game for a moment, taking an… appreciative glance, and then quickly focused his attention back on his pixelated mission as Ian stood in front of the dresser in the cramped bedroom, and started to rustle through the drawers for a t-shirt.
Mickey maneuvered his buff video game avatar through a minefield, biting his lip in concentration— when his sharp focus was suddenly infiltrated by Ian, singing under his breath in an airy tone.
“Ooooooh we’re halfway there.”
Mickey gritted his teeth slightly and tried to pour all his attention into the pivotal moment of the level, but half of his mind was being pulled to listen to Ian’s gravelly voice, continuing to softly murmur to himself in a tone that was ridiculously off-key.
“She says we’ve gotta hoooold on, to what we’ve got—”
Mickey’s phone screen flickered. GAME OVER.
Mickey wanted to throw his phone at the fucking wall. He inhaled, then pressed “Start Game” again, one last time— and again, his focus was disrupted by Ian, singing under his breath as he pulled on his jeans and gently pattered his hands in a rhythm on the top of the dresser— which was endearing and sappy as fuck, sure, but it was not helping Mickey with the task at hand. Mickey puffed out a sharp, frustrated breath, keeping his eyes on his phone screen.
“The fuck are you singing for right now?”
Ian suddenly gave a sheepish smile over his shoulder as he rifled through their sock drawer, like he’d been caught in the middle of doing something wrong.
“Don’t know. Song was just stuck in my head I guess.”
Mickey glared at Ian, pressing his thumb to the screen to pause his game. “Cut that shit out.”
Ian rolled his eyes fondly, sitting on the edge of the mattress to pull on his socks. “You should be thanking me for serenading you with your fucking eighties dad music. I could be singing Carly Rae Jepson right now, or some other pop bullshit that you hate.”
Mickey felt an involuntary, amused smirk split onto his face, and he tried to turn it into a scowl. Fucking adorable motherfucker.
“Okay, tough guy. If anything you should be thanking me for cleansing your ears from the techno garbage that you used to listen to.”
Ian gave a soft smile, shoulders turning fully towards Mickey now that he’d finished pulling on his socks— and then he turned and clambered into the bed, hovering above Mickey and causing Mickey’s fingers to go slack around his phone case. Mickey could smell the warm, freshly-showered scent of him, all cheap bar soap and Old Spice deodorant, and felt the soft press of his t-shirt through Mickey’s thin tank top— an overly worn t-shirt, one of Mickey’s, that stretched just a little too tight over Ian’s torso.
Ian looked down at Mickey, fucking beaming for some reason, his eyes light. He swooped down, pressing a soft, quick kiss above Mickey’s eyebrow. And then—
“Take my haaaand, we’ll make it I sweeear”
Mickey felt an involuntary, uncomfortable chuckle bubble up out of his ribcage. Was Ian fucking… singing? To him? It definitely seemed like it. And as much as he didn’t want it to, because this was fucking sappy and ridiculous and… well, gay— Mickey couldn’t help the fact that his husband leaning over him, breathily singing the tune of one of their goddamn wedding songs in his husky tone-deaf voice, made Mickey’s blood run a little bit hotter; which was bullshit, because absolutely nothing about this should be hot, and it was probably the most disgustingly married thing that Mickey could think of— but apparently everything about Ian, every dorky and fucking god-awful cringey thing that he did, was a turn-on, or at least according to Mickey’s thudding heartbeat and sweaty palms right now.
Ian’s face was still hovering centimeters above his, his eyebrows raised triumphantly and sporting a sappy fucking grin, like he knew how affected Mickey was by this, no matter how much Mickey grumbled and complained and tried to hide it.
Mickey rolled his eyes. “You’re fucking soft, Gallagher.”
Ian just leaned down again, kissing up the slope of Mickey’s neck and biting at his earlobe—and, okay, maybe Mickey could get behind Ian’s singing after all.
 2.
Ian’s singing was starting to get fucking ridiculous— and as much as it made something deep inside Mickey feel a light pang of relief, to see Ian being his old bubbly self again in the rhythms of routine and held by the safety net of financial stability because of the security gig that made the air between them less stale, it also meant that they were also around each other pretty much 24/7, and Ian’s serenades were starting to get relentless.
While they pretty much had a common ground in liking nostalgic 80s music, they would still inevitably argue about what music to play in the ambulance every morning— and whatever shitty album they eventually chose to put on, whether it was Ian’s pop garbage of Mickey’s mellower 80s tunes, Ian’s brain would apparently absorb all the songs like a fucking sponge and he’d start singing them all day long—in the kitchen, in the shower, even when they were just laying in bed on their phones and Ian would constantly hum absentmindedly.
Today they were driving to some bougie dispensary in Glencoe, near a bunch of ridiculous mansions on the very outskirts of the city, and it was Ian’s turn to pick the music— Mickey usually elected one of the well-loved CDs that he’d jammed into the glove compartment as they were refurbishing the ambulance, CDs that he’d kept since he was a kid when he piled them high in the corner of his grimy room next to a half-broken boombox— but as much as they were Mickey’s comfort CDs, Ian could only listen to Bon Jovi so many times before he started to slander 80s music as a collective genre.
“Can we just listen to something by someone who isn’t older than us, just this once?”
“Easy for you to say, Gallagher. At least the music that I like has fucking words.”
When it was Ian’s turn to pick the music, he usually picked more modern stuff with heavy beats and a thrumming bass (though more often than not he also appeased Mickey’s tastes with some “80s throwback” playlist he’d found on Spotify that he’d noticed Mickey would bob his head along to)—but on longer drives, like this one, it was easy to butt heads about the soundtrack. Ian had allowed Mickey to play through one of his Queen CDs that morning, and then Ian had put on some whiny indie bullshit from a playlist on his phone for the other half of the drive— now they were heading home after a long day, with the stereo turned low to a local radio station.
They’d settled into a comfortable silence, as they often did at the end of the day when their energy faded— Ian had stopped pattering his hands on the steering wheel like he usually did when he was amped up and buzzing with energy in the mornings, and Mickey could tell they were both ready to collapse onto the couch the second they set foot in the door.
Mickey blew out a deflated breath and reached to turn up the radio, tuning in to some middle-aged host with a cheery voice chattering about the heat wave in Chicago that upcoming weekend—and then the airwaves went silent, and there was the overdramatic sound of a slamming door and a gospel choir.
Ian’s ears nearly fucking perked up at the sound as the opening chords began.
“Life is a mystery… Everyone must stand alone…”
Ian immediately raised his voice to join in, the tired slouch leaving his shoulders.
“I hear you call my naaaame”
He turned to Mickey and pointed overdramatically, causing Mickey to shove his arm away but unable to quell the overly fond grin that he knew was blooming on his face.
“And it feels like… home.”
The beat dropped, rolling into the chorus, and Ian energetically drummed his hands against the steering wheel once more.
“C’mon, Mick!” Ian laughed, throwing his head back dramatically as he sang while still trying to keep his eyes on the road.
“When you call my name, it’s like a little prayer, I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you there.” Ian’s pitchiness clashed with the melody, but he was too focused on singing and bopping side to side in this seat to really care.
Mickey rolled his eyes, his lips still turned upwards at the corners while he watched his absolute dork of a husband jamming to Madonna. “Isn’t this song about giving someone a blowjob or some shit?”
Ian gave an easygoing laugh. “Technically, yes. And it’s also definitionally a gay anthem, which means you have to sing with me.”
Mickey scoffed and flipped Ian off. “Fuck off.”
Ian raised a playful eyebrow, and continued to sing with relentless eye contact:
“It’s like a dreeeeam, no end and no beginning”
Mickey felt heat rise into his cheeks against his will. No fucking way was he going to sing a Madonna song about a blowjob stone-cold sober at 2pm on a Tuesday while driving home from work with his fucking husband—which, wow, that was probably the gayest sentence that had ever crossed Mickey’s mind in his 26 years of existence (which was definitely saying a lot).
This wasn’t ever a place Mickey thought he’d be in— sitting beside Ian so comfortably, singing fucking songs while they drove home from their daily commute; getting to soak up all the warmth, all the brightness that had always radiated out of Ian so intensely that it nearly blinded him, a warmth that he’d always wanted to lean in closer to even when they were just scrawny kids in a shitty neighborhood still figuring everything out.
Maybe, just maybe— it was okay to lean in a little more.
By the time the chorus rolled around the third time, Mickey was begrudgingly humming along, like he usually did whenever the songs that Ian was singing on and endless loop got stuck in his own head and popped up while he was brushing his teeth or making toast for breakfast— by the time the final rhythmic chorus faded to silence on the radio waves, Mickey glanced over at Ian, singing at the top of his lungs, face slightly flushed and grinning ear to ear.
“Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there.”
3.
Ian and Mickey were walking down the moonlit sidewalk, veering back home after an evening at Lip’s— the night had honestly been weirdly enjoyable, which was definitely a welcome reprieve from all of Lip and Debbie’s intense back-and-forths about the house over the past few weeks. Tami and Lip had needed to go over to Brad and Cami’s for some bullshit crisis management about the stolen bikes, and Ian had readily agreed to watch Freddie— which meant that whether he liked it or not, Mickey had spent his Friday evening at Lip’s half-packed apartment watching Ian coo over a one-year-old, which was… not a totally unwelcome sight.
Trying to keep his shit together, Mickey had snapped a picture to send to the Gallagher family group chat, and everyone had immediately given them shit about being so eager to babysit and get their hands on a toddler like a couple of baby-crazed newlyweds—which had caused Mickey to start overzealously complaining in the groupchat to compensate while Ian occupied Freddie. Kev had noticed the texts and swung by Lip and Tami’s house after closing the Alibi to keep the two of them company, bringing by a pack of beers—and now he and Ian were warm and happily buzzed, relieved of their babysitting duties and walking the chilly city streets back towards the Gallagher house.
Halfway through the walk Ian had interlaced their fingers, and now their arms were swinging slightly as they turned the final corner to walk down the last stretch of pavement towards the chain-link fence—when suddenly, Ian stopped cold a few houses away from the Gallagher front porch. He looked down at Mickey, raising their entangled hands and pressing a kiss to the inside of Mickey’s wrist.
Mickey raised an eyebrow in confusion, and Ian just looked back at him—his cheeks glowing pink from the few beers, his eyes light and unguarded under the streetlamps.
“This spot reminded me of something.”
Mickey rolled his eyes. Of fucking course it did. Ian was a sappy motherfucker on the best of days, but with a couple of beers in him he was practically uncontrollable.
“What?”
All of a sudden Ian let go of his hand, punching into the air dramatically.
“Cause love is a battlefiiiield”
Mickey laughed, feeling warm hot blood rush to his cheeks in delight—and fuck, he loved his husband so goddamn much. And just this once, mostly because of the own alcohol running thick in his bloodstream, Mickey made the lurching decision to join in, stepping closer towards Ian and raising his hands equally as dramatically.
“No promises, no demands”
“Woooooah”
Ian had practically doubled over with laughter, tears welling in the corner of his eyes—and Mickey let himself get lost in it, the warm feeling buzzing through his body, of love and joy and fuck knows what else, getting to sing on a fucking street corner with his husband a decade after everything had gone so gut-wrenchingly wrong, leaving him bleeding on this same pavement.
They stumbled over their own feet up the stairs, fumbling out of their clothes and collapsing into bed—and later, just as Mickey was on the brink of fading into unconsciousness, Ian mumbled the same refrain into the crook of Mickey’s neck in a sleepy voice, like the song was still stuck in his head and he just couldn’t help it.
“Love is a battlefield.”
4.
It was late— it was one of those slow, tender nights when the past was hanging heavy over them, laying pressed together in bed as thin streams of moonlight poured in through the blinds, pressing whispers into each other’s skin about all of the hurt and the doubt that had been seeped up and healed with time.
Ian was sprawled back on the bed and Mickey was laying with his head resting on his chest, feeling his ribcage expand and contract each time he took a breath. They’d absorbed so much the past few weeks— the sick, twisted blows of a loss that felt all the more jagged and painful because of how muddled the grief for Terry was—but after a few days had passed they’d found a place to settle, in the comforting press of the silence in their bedroom.
Mickey was mindlessly playing with Ian’s fingers, listening to his steady breathing—and without thinking, he ran a finger over the cool silver of Ian’s wedding band, letting out a breathy chuckle.
“I still can’t believe we’re married sometimes, man.”
Mickey could feel Ian’s lips curve upward into a smile from where his mouth was pressed against the top of Mickey’s head.
“Yeah, me either.”
And Mickey felt something bubbling, something welling— and he didn’t ever fucking sing, not unless Ian made him, but Ian was always fucking dropping song lines into sappy moments like this.
So he took a breath, and, half-singing but mostly talking, in a way that sounded almost mocking if it wasn’t so soft around the edges, he let out into the dark silence of the room:
“At last….”
He wasn’t even singing, not really—he was just sort of… saying the words in a singsongy way, but he knew that Ian could tell what he was doing, what he was trying to do. He was trying to be as fucking sweet and soft and pliant as Ian was, as Ian always was in moments like this, in a way that sometimes made Mickey feel brittle and hard in comparison. This time, Mickey wanted to breathe out the love he had for him into this moment, the love that made his ribcage feel like it was going to fucking burst— a love that he felt erupting outwards when Ian had played this song for him for the first time a few weeks before the wedding, and had asked with a shy smile, “D’you think it’d be okay if you walked down the aisle to this song?”
Ian’s chest shook with laughter, and he carded a hand through Mickey’s hair. And then, in his gentle, sleep-soft voice, in a breathy tone that tickled the shell of Mickey’s ear:
“My looove has come along”
Mickey rolled his eyes fondly, just to prove something to himself, even though he knew Ian couldn’t see him—and then he reached a hand upward and leaned back, drawing Ian’s chin forward to press his lips to his for a brief, lingering moment.
Mickey settled back against Ian’s chest again, and felt Ian press a kiss to the top of his head. He smiled contentedly, closing his heavy eyelids.
Maybe being a couple of sappy motherfuckers wasn’t so bad.
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jonnnysuh · 3 years
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Never Not - Park Jinyoung
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Pairing: idol!Jinyoung x gender neutral reader
Summary: Your bad day is turned around when your childhood best friend, Jinyoung, returns to your hometown and takes you on a tour of your favourite memories together.
Genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers
Warnings: suggested sexual experience
Word Count: 4.3k
Requested by: Anon
A/N: Hi guysssss. I took a small break from tumblr bc I got super busy with work. I haven’t written something like this in a while, but I actually loved how it turned out. I recommend listening to Never Not by Lauv to get into the mood <33
Effort was hard to make these days. Even the way you walked had an unmistakable slouch. Your exhaustive strides were just a shallow reminder that there used to be a hop in your step. Five more minutes and you were free from the shackles of work. Free to figure out what to make for dinner, and appease the gurgles of your stomach.The seconds on the point of sale system didn't seem to move fast enough as you folded the customer's final item and shoved it into a bag.
When you were a kid, no one told you how exhausting being an adult was, and thus it became something to look forward to. You were so caught up on getting that first kiss, sneaking out to go to parties, seeing people that your parents didn't approve of, that you didn't realize that life didn't slow down from there. It was like you blinked, and you were no longer 16. Instead, you were twenty-something perpetually feeling like life was just an endless pit of "what ifs" and building up the courage to make something of yourself. Another mindless "Have a good day." escaped your lips as you bid a customer bye for the nth time that day. You wondered how many of your years would waste away telling others to have a good day, when you yourself hadn't had one in a while.
You pressed your fingers against your temple to sooth a small growing headache. Working in retail for as long as you had, you knew that the s-curved line of people didn't stop for your discomfort. With a fake smile on your face, you welcomed the next few customers as your eyes wandered around the store looking for the person who was going to take over for the next hour. Fifteen minutes past the hour, your replacement finally came. Externally, you wanted to scream and ask them what took you so long? but you knew that would only make you as good as the worst customer. Graciously, you nodded at them, before walking away to the back room to fetch your things and head out.
...
You stood against the wall at the bus shelter shivering from the cool summer breeze that was disguising just how rapidly autumn was truly coming. Today probably wasn't the best day to forget your coat.  You rubbed your arms for warmth, taking micro footsteps in place.  The pain in your feet made you romanticize the comfort of the sturdy old bus seats as a place of rest. You felt your phone in your pocket vibrate, but you let it ring out. You were determined to get a seat on this bus. A deep sigh escaped you as you surveyed the density of the crowd on the platform- the ride home was definitely going to be longer than usual. When the bus arrived, you queued behind a long line of people. Your phone rang a second time, at this point the crowd was getting larger and you knew you weren't going to get a seat on this bus.
PRIVATE CALLER 
"Hello?" you pressed your phone to your ear. Sometimes your mother used phone booths to reach you, so you expected her voice to be on the other end of the line. "I'm offended I had to call you twice for you to pick up."  The voice was much deeper, and the delivery much more lighthearted than anything that would've came out of your mother.  The absence of a greeting was distinct and direct, but no matter, you knew exactly who this was.
You felt the tenseness of your shoulders drop with just the sound of this voice. "If I had definitely known it was you, I wouldn't have picked up, Mr. Private caller." you jest with the phone  pressed between your ear and the crook of your shoulder.
"You know, I was gonna suggest that I pick you up, but just for that comment, I change my mind."
You poke your tongue at your cheek, coyly. For all the changes that occurred in your life, for some reason you could depend on Jinyoung's quick wit and humour to hit the spot even after all this time.
"That's fine, I just finished work so I was thinking of just going home anyways."  You had no idea he was even back in South Korea. Last you heard, he was on tour somewhere in North America. More than that, you couldn't even remember when the last time you actually talked was. You were curious about what he was up to these days, but you you knew any hint of urgency in your voice would lead to incessant teasing on his part. The line progressed slightly, but you still didn't feel any closer to the entrance of the bus.
  "I'm about to get on a bus home." 
"Well, don't get on." 
"If I don't get on then you're gonna have to repay me for the fare I paid to even get here." You eyed the bus reaching its capacity, and stepped aside. You twisted your fingers in hope that he was being 100% serious, otherwise you were going to have to wait out for the 6:30pm bus.
"I can't believe the cost of your attention is only $2. Do better." the voice quipped. 
"Okay, Jinyoung I guess I'll just get on, then." you threatened, although you had no intention of boarding the departing bus.
"Fine, fine. I'll pay for your fare. Just wait for me."
...
The sky had darkened tenfold since you hung up from Jinyoung's impromptu call. The streetlights glowed gold against the lavender backdrop of the sky. You sat on the bus shelter bench, swinging your feet back and forth as you waited for him. If he took even a minute longer, you vowed to somehow become the president of the Park Jinyoung hate club. Of course, you wouldn't actually, but the idea became more appealing the longer you waited. 
You weren't one to go on spontaneous outings- at least not since your teenage years. Recently, you followed the strict routine of work, home, sleep, and to stray from it seemed pointless. But the fact that he even thought of you when he came back home to South Korea was still not something you could wrap your head around.
In the distance, a glow of headlights appeared, stopping perfectly adjacent to your bus stop. The window rolled down, and there appeared Jinyoung's face in all its glory. To say all the words in your vocabulary disappeared would be an understatement. A part of you doubted he would even follow through. Without missing a beat, he returned a look to you. "You just gonna stare at me, or are you gonna get in the car?"
...
Your backpack was sitting atop your lap, bouncing with the movement of the car. Jinyoung hung one hand over the steering wheel. The orange and purple of the sky twisting, and creating a brand new colour that only seemed to grace the skies at this hour. The music was unidentifiable, but the volume was low enough that you didn't even bother trying to figure it out.
"So what'd you do today?" he asked. 
"I worked, I told you that." you replied, matter-of-factly.
"And how was it?"
"I honestly can't tell the difference between this week and last week. Or even last month. Same old, same old. Annoying customers, stale lunch, forgot my jacket at home even though it's 15 fucking degrees outside." 
"Do you still work at that clothing store you started at when we were 20?"
  Your eyes shifted, following the ever-changing scenery of the highway. No idea where he was bringing you, and yet you were brought to comfort by Jinyoung's habits.  You knew he didn't have a drug deal, or a random party planned.  Jinyoung was always the type to be home before midnight. He was a self-proclaimed goody-two-shoes, but you weren't completely fooled. You knew he could bend the rules if it seemed to serve him.
  "That exact same one."
 "Anything else?"
  You looked at him, the shock settling in that he was really right next to you-- no longer just a figure on a billboard that you used to know. The changes of his physicality were subtle; his face was more defined, but his cheeks still carried the baby fat that had been there since childhood. The shadow of his facial hair loomed on his smooth skin. The mole on the top of his lip, not necessarily gone, but faded. He looked older, but the aura of his presence remained the same.
"And then I was dumb enough to get into a car with a stranger because he said he'd give me $2."
Jinyoung side eyed you, causing you to erupt in laughter. His glare was also unchanging. "Stranger? Your memory's fading already?" He shook his head disappointedly. "I thought you still had a few good years left."
  "Oh yeahhhhhh. Sorry Jinyoungie. Didn't recognize you with all the fame." you pinched and pulled on his ear- both things a relic of your grade school years. When you were kids, you never let him forget the age gap. Granted, it was only 3 days, but that gave you the freedom to refer to him however you pleased, while he was stuck with the honorifics.
As you let go, the curve of his ear flushed red. "OWW.” he cried, swatting your hand away. “You’re lucky I’m driving otherwise I would pull your hair.”
Being raised with Jinyoung meant that you were inseparable but kind of in the worst way. If Jinyoung got  a good mark on a test, his parents would immediately flaunt it to yours. If you wanted to sneak out, he was on your tail telling you to go back home. And if he knew you liked someone, then that person would know soon enough by the words of Jinyoung. All of that warranted ear pulling, and if you did something in retaliation he would pull your hair.
He was one of the few people in your life, who encapsulated a certain time of your life.  The time in your life when you were young, and the world felt so big and everything was possible.
  The car rocked back and forth as it shifted into the elevated ramp of a parking lot. Your eyes widened as you realized where you were.  He lingered in his seat before popping his seatbelt off and exiting the car. You followed him, swinging the passenger door open.
  "So you randomly called me because you wanted to hang out at the...convenience store?" you gestured to the old, orangey building. The bricks were chipped, and the fluorescent lights illuminated the outside through the big glass window.  You remember the days when you and Jinyoung would sit on the parking blocks and split a bag of chips until you were chased off the property by the owner. He pulled on the store door, pressing his back to it and letting you enter first. 
"Well, I wasn't going to come here until you started yanking my ears. That's when I knew you were hungry."
Without stopping, you weaved through the store until you reached aisle 3- the snack aisle had become a home to you and Jinyoung when you were growing up. In grade school, you were both fearful of what was beyond the boundaries of your home and school so you indulged in after school snacks at the convenience to talk about the latest happenings in your life. As you aged, it became the place of solace after exams, or the meetup location for last minute plans.
  He picked up a package of gummy worms, and shook them in your face. "Do you remember what happened the last time we ate theseeee?" Jinyoung smirked. For a moment, you were taken aback by how much he had grown. In your teens, you and Jinyoung met eye to eye. Now, you felt like you had to look up at him in order to be taken seriously.
  You crossed your arms, "Yeah, we ate them in the parking lot and you made me confess who I had a crush on." 
"Chan, right?" 
You nodded, with a sulk as you reminisced. "That wasn't fair."
 "Why? Do you still have a crush on him?" 
"I haven't thought about him in so long. You really think I'd have a lingering crush on a guy I haven't seen in years?"
Jinyoung shrugged, and shifted his feet. "You had a huge crush on him, though. You even stared at him like this." He rested his palm to his cheek, letting out a deep sigh while trying to maintain an enamoured expression. You snorted, hitting him on the chest. "You'd write his name all over your notebooks AND you bullied me into giving you one of my new ones." he added.
You let out a belly laugh. "And then I wrote his name all over that one too."
Jinyoung rolled his eyes. "They were premium quality notebooks. My aunt sent me them from the states!"
 "You had a kabillion of them. Besides, you pestered me for-like-ever to know who I liked, but you never even told me who you had a crush on." You grabbed the bag of gummy worms from his hand and placed it in your shopping basket. Your attention shifted, as you realized you should be in search of your favourite chocolates. You knew that you were far too old to be eating junk food for dinner, but there was something familiar about being hyped up on food that you knew would rot your insides. Your eyes landed on the top row of the wall, and before you could grab your favourite chocolates, Jinyoung stripped it from the wall and dropped it into the basket. He piled on a bag of sour cream and onion chips, and then you both ventured to the drink refrigerators.
  Both of you stared deeply at your drink options. On each level of the fridge, stood several different colourful drinks. If you knew Jinyoung, then you knew he would pick a Coke- it was something he swore by in your younger years. You hummed, mentally deciding between an iced tea or a vitamin water.  You weren't sure why it bothered you when Jinyoung picked up a Sprite, but you tried to hide your dismay. With an ice tea in hand, and a basket full of both of your favourite things, you made your way to the cashier.
  At the last moment, Jinyoung placed a bright yellow umbrella on the checkout counter. He looked down at you, surely, “You never know when it’s gonna rain.”
...
The following car ride to your next destination only lasted about 3 minutes before he parked on the side of the road and dragged you down the street, with the plastic bag full of your foods in hand. 
"I should've known you were going to bring me here." you said, strolling down the familiar gravel pathway towards your elementary school. All colour in the sky had disappeared now, finding it hard to see anything but the outline of each other and some features.
  Both of you settled on the grass field, onlooking the tall school building that was the foundation of your formal years. As soon as you opened the bag of chips, you found yourselves deep in conversation, talking about what life had been for him the last few years. You couldn't help but be in awe when he explained the rush he got when he got on stage, and how he got anxiety when he thought he wasn’t doing his best.  The candidacy of his thoughts drew you in and you were surprised that he trusted you with his secrets. 
All these years, you had always wondered what he was up to, if he was living a life far better than the one he left at home.  To everyone else, he was this huge pop star that had travelled the world 3 times over, but to you, he was your best friend who left home at 16. You had seen him through the bad hair phases, the adolescent temper tantrums, the voice cracks, and the questionable fashion choices both your parents had put you in.
  He leaned back on his arms as he gazed at the school. "Are you afraid of change?" You were silent for a moment as you thought. "On a scale of 1-10?" you rocked your head back and forth. "It's a 15."
Jinyoung raised his eyebrows. You held your legs to your chest, and looked at him. "Why?"
He opened his mouth, but quickly closed it and looked smugly in the other direction. "Heyyy." you poked him repeatedly. "You can't just ask me that and not tell me why."
He enclosed his hand around your finger, forcing your poking to come to a halt. It felt like he was studying your face. Never in your life had you ever felt like you were under the scope of Jinyoung's gaze. The darkness of the sky acted as a mask, hiding your blushing face.
"It was the last thing I asked you before I left." he admitted. "I asked you that when things were about to change big time for us… I always wondered if you resented me for leaving you behind."
  The last day before Jinyoung left to become a full-time trainee, you two snuck on to this very same field. Both of you ran across the grass, picking up dandelions; believing that if you gathered enough and blew on them, that they would fuel your wishes.
  “You thought I could resent you?” He nodded. “Well, for starters, I hate your guts.” You replied sarcastically, causing him to look at the ground with embarrassment and your face softened at the sight of it.
  “You know what I wished for on all of those dandelions, Jinyoung?”
 “Not to fail the math exam.” Even in a soft moment, he couldn’t help but be sly. “No!” You exclaimed. 
“Well, you should’ve. You got a 48.” He sensed your killer look on him. “So what’d you wish for?”
You played with your fingers. You thought you’d take this secret to the grave. “I wished that you’d be successful in whatever you chose to do.” His eyes enlarged, alarmed at your confession. “but maybe I should’ve wished for the math thing.”
  Jinyoung giggled, inching closer to you so your legs were pressed against each other. 
“What did you wish for?” You asked. He smiled with the side of his mouth, shaking his head. 
“I wished that I’d always find my way back home.” “Oh goddd.” You gagged. “you’re so corny.”
 “What about you, huh? You used your wish on me!” he bellowed, his voice echoing against the school playground. 
“Hey, I might just be the reason why you’re famous.” You fought back.
You flipped your phone over, 7:53, the brightness of it only barely illuminating the dark. You thought about what you would be doing at this moment if you weren’t here, if he hadn’t picked you up.  Mmm probably falling asleep to a tv show. Probably dreading tomorrow. Probably not as happy.
"But what did I say? You know… the first time you asked me that question?” You couldn’t even begin to imagine how 16-year-old you answered.
  "You said you were excited to see who we were going to become.” The words of your younger self were so hopeful, yet your current self felt hopeless. Your expression sank, and Jinyoung offered a small smile to revive it. He felt guilty having asked you the question in the first place.
You sat in silence for a bit, dwelling on the excitement for life that you once had. Where was it? And how could you get it back?
“I feel like I’ve let myself down. I don’t even know who I am now.”
Jinyoung blinked slowly, watching his childhood best friend crumble. He rested a hand on your shoulder.  "I just look at you, and in so many ways you're the same. I still know what makes you laugh, and the way you say things. I can still pick out your favourite snacks, and know you’re gonna pull my ears when I do something to piss you off.” he yanked on yours softly. "Everything about you feels just how I left you. I feel my youth when I'm with you. But at the same time I’m comforted by how much you’ve changed.”
“I don’t think I’ve changed much.”
“You don’t see it, do you?” You shook your head no. “Do you remember how scared you were to even leave the house when we were kids? Now you live on your own. You never took anything seriously back then, but you’re now one of the hardest working people I know…” his voice softened. “And you let yourself be vulnerable with me when it used to take hours to drag it out of you.” You laid on his shoulder, and he rested his head on top of yours, snuggling closer. “You fear change, yet you’re changing right before your own eyes. And maybe one day, I’ll come back here, and I won’t even be able to recognize who you’ve become.” You sniffled, the idea of Jinyoung not remembering you broke your heart. You held your chest. “But if that day does come, it’ll be okay. Because I know that the person that you’ve become will have it all figured out.  I’ll always be rooting for every single version of yourself even if it doesn’t include me.” You sobbed quietly, interlocking your fingers with his. He held your hand tightly, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. For once, there was an action not done out of habit or relic. It was an action evoked just for this moment, and it was a change that you didn’t mind.
Jinyoung held your hand, leading you down a narrow road a few minutes away. The sound of crickets, barking dogs, and distant vehicles could be heard as you stood in the middle of the road of your childhood neighbourhood.
  You hadn’t been here since you moved in 2016. You looked up at the large modern house that sat on what used to be two lots. Yours and Jinyoung’s childhood homes were purchased by a wealthy business man and demolished to build the business man’s dream home. You stared at the foreign house that sat on the place of your childhood dreams and frustrations.
  Jinyoung placed his hands on your shoulders and stopped you at the exact halfway point between what was once his house and your house. You rubbed your arms as a gust of wind rushed by. Without thinking, Jinyoung slipped off his hoodie and placed it on top of your shoulders.
“I remember racing you down this street.” You piped up, pointing down the end of the road. Jinyoung always won that race. No one was faster than him on this street.
“I remember finding that stray puppy and fighting over who got to keep it.” He responded.
“It should’ve been me.” You bickered. Jinyoung laughed, amused at how you were always one to hold a grudge.
“Do you remember that day when it started raining soooo hard and we had to walk shoulder to shoulder under my umbrella?”
You nodded. “Ya, that was the same day with the gummy worms, you dummy.”
“So do you remember what happened right here?” He pointed at the exact spot you were standing. You racked your head for a memory, but nothing stood out to you clearly. You shook your head no. “We always said bye to one another here...but…?” you trailed off.
He took a step forward, both of you standing directly under the streetlight now. You watched his face light up as he likely played the moment back in his head. “So that day, standing under my umbrella, we were about to go our separate ways. You turned into me.”
He took another step closer, popping open the bright yellow convenience store umbrella and holding it over your heads.
You could see it now. It was drizzling so hard, even your hair wasn’t protected from getting soaked.   You wrapped your hands around the handle, just like how you did back then. Chest to chest, huddled under the umbrella. Jinyoung locked eyes with you, your heart beat faster.
“And you looked at me, and I swear I was going to say everything I wanted to tell you right then and there.” Your mouth opened in shock. “This was the place where I almost told you I loved you.”
You studied the eyes of the boy you watched grow up. He looked scared, but sure. There was no doubt in your mind that Jinyoung meant what he said. He lowered the umbrella, not letting his gaze veer from you.
  Your life was just a build up of what if’s and trying to gain the courage to make something of yourself… but you didn’t want that anymore. With your heart beating out of control, you leaned into him, taking the risk and kissing his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, deepening the heat of the kiss.
A round of thunder boomed above you, and little by little, raindrops began to pour from the sky.
You and Jinyoung separated to look up at the sky. “I did say, you never know when it’s gonna rain.”
You both ran for the car, shoulder to shoulder, under the umbrella. From your heads to your toes, you were soaked in the rain, but neither of you cared. You silently thanked the world for every bad thing that happened to you today that led to this.
You blinked your eyes awake, surveying the damp clothes strewn across your living room floor, and the heat of the bare body laying next to you on the couch. You stared at your sleepy childhood best friend, a smile spreading across your lips. This was a change you were ready for. 
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bombyxluna · 4 years
Text
Omega Mammon X GN!Human MC 
This is more of an intro to the series, which is why is a lil bit longer and more explanatory.
We’re here to break sub gender norms! 
I don’t know how many parts this will have but I want it to be angsty.
No NSFW yet :P
CW: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Talks of heats/ruts/sub genders
The Devildom is, for a lack of a more fitting word, strange. Though, you suppose, being surrounded by demons should be. 
There’s too much you don’t understand still. Three months have passed since you arrived - or were kidnapped? the jury is still out on this one - and it feels like an eternity of time and too little all the same. 
Demons, as it turns out, have very different customs and rituals from humans. So do angels. You are in the least thankful for the classes, but every other student in them seems well versed in the basics, while you float about unsure of what’s happening. Hell, even Luke knows more than you, and he hates demons. Not to mention he’s a child. Double low blow. 
The classes would be going a little bit better if you only had time to actually study for them. Though you do suspect that Diavolo doesn’t actually give a shit about grades and this entire school is a mockery to appease his peaceful plans, you're still stuck in what’s basically hell and having to go to what’s basically hell’s undergrad school. Great. 
The least you can do is prod around for some demon knowledge. You know, just in case. Because things are getting weirder by the day, and sometimes it feels like it’s all an ongoing inside joke you’re not really a part of.
Also, because of them. 
Living with demons wasn’t exactly unexpected, but living with the Seven Rulers of Hell - well, six of them, was. 
Despite initial impressions, you’re quickly figuring out there’s more to each of them than the public eye could see. Something lurking below their perfectly crafted personas, that is reserved only for the ones in close proximity to them. Only for family.
You’re not family, but you’re definitely in close proximity. 
It’s easy to tell how much they hide behind masks. Lucifer, as far as everyone else knows, it’s the always serious and stern big brother that will never crack a joke or play around. The entire foundation of that statement could be torn down with one single picture you had, of him playing with Cerberus. 
Leviathan, despite actively trying to kill you over a book series since - no, you’re not over it - is more than the shut-off otaku who is otherwise known as the Admiral of the Devildom’s marine. He is also clumsy and shy, and he goes on tangents about what he likes, and he is friendly. 
Satan, known as the hot-headed brother who has a tendency to overwork himself into humor changes and explosive arguments, is a reserved person, a cat lover, an erotica reader, and an absolute dork. 
Beelzebub, though he whines about food a lot, is far more than just the hungry brother who also happens to be a jock. He’s a carebear, a very attentive listener, has great movie recommendations, and an amazing cook. 
Asmodeus, who may look lust-driven and shallow to the onlooker, but is caring, a hopeless romantic, a good friend and brother, and even a little insecure. 
And then there’s Mammon.
At first, you didn’t know what to think of him. He acted high and mighty, too strung up in his high horse to look at a human such as yourself. When Lucifer put him in what was basically the task to babysit you, it’s safe to say you were annoyed. 
But then, you started to pick up on things. Small things. Unnoticeable to those who aren’t looking, but that become increasingly clearer once you realize them. 
He’s clingy. With his brothers, with you, even with his credit card. Though he never lets himself linger, when he hugs you, it’s tight and crushing, like he needs to be as close to you as possible. When your arms brush together as you walk about, he blushes. 
His brothers tease him. A lot. To the point, it’s painful to even to you sometimes. He laughs through it all, but you can see the drooping at the corners of his mouth, and how the giggles don’t reach his eyes.
And he’s scared. At least, that’s what it seems like to you. He puts up a front of being this big, angry, scary, and powerful demon such as his brothers, and though you certainly don’t doubt the powerful part, the angry and scary seem faulty. 
It’s intriguing. One day he’ll be all over you and the next he’ll act like he barely knows you, avoiding your eyes and only answering in curt answers. Sometimes his PDA is off the charts - he’ll throw arms around you, stick close, pull you closer when you’re walking together - and others he acts as the smallest of touches burns him like it pains him to be so much as near you. 
And there is that smell. It lingers on him but not on his brothers, like a perfume stronger than anything else. It doesn’t make any sense, though, because you’re pretty sure it’s not perfume. You’ve seen him spray himself before leaving in the mornings and it’s not the same smell. It’s something else, a light waft that emanates from him in waves, but no one else seems to pick up on. 
He’s a puzzle that refuses to fall in place, and all you want to do is figure him out. 
Solomon sits down in front of you with a loud gruff, dropping a small pile of stacked books on top of the wooden table in the library. The librarian shushes him when the sound echoes through the empty halls. Asmodeus hot on his trail, carrying nothing but a bag. He sits down as well, eyes all but sparkling.
“MC!” He sings. The librarian shushes him. 
“Hi, Asmo,” you make space on the table, putting your bag on the chair next to you.
“Ready to cram years of demon biology in one afternoon?” Solomon asks. He smiles wickedly as if he thinks it’s actually possible to do so, and you feel a little bit like a prey caged in by a much, much more astute predator.
You asked for help with the subjects, and maybe you’re already regretting it a little. “Sure,” you answer, trying to sound determined. 
He smiles. “What are you seeing in your class?” 
Solomon picked different classes for the year, and while you were fine with not doing whatever the hell goes on in advanced alchemy, it’s a little bit of a bummer to not share even one class with the only other human around. 
“I’m not… really sure,” you slouch on the seat, ready to give up. Why can’t the world be like the movies and you can spend an entire year just looking out the windows and being pretty? “Subgroups? Or sub genders?” 
“Oh,” he says softly, flipping through one of the heavier looking books. 
Next to him, Asmodeus is pulling out a notebook filled with post-its and notes made in glitter pens. You suspect he didn’t come to lecture you, and that suspicion is confirmed when the notebook is discarded as soon as it showed up, apparently being pulled out only because his bag was on the smaller side and his pink switch-like video game was at the bottom of it. He sighs dramatically, lowering the music coming from it, and laying his chin on Solomon’s shoulder.
Yeah, definitely not here for you. 
Solomon slides the open book towards you, marked on a page titled Subgenders then starts flipping through the next. 
Asmodeus watches as you read over the basic introduction. 
“It’s not hard,” he says, voice bubbly even though the words game over can be read on his screen, “It’s a little tricky to separate, but you get the hand really quickly.”
-
It’s not actually all that hard to figure things out. Solomon, despite the borderline chaotic ways he chooses to explain things, is a fairly good teacher. You manage to grasp the three sub genders and the differences between them in no more than a couple hours - a record if you’re being honest. 
And Solomon had been right. It’s not hard to separate them. Alphas are, generally speaking, the “dominant” gender. They’re easier to anger and natural born fighters. They experience ruts, can mate, and have knots. Most of the royal court are alphas.
Omegas are the “lower” gender - though according to Solomon, the idea that one is lower to the other is being more and more fought againts and discussed in the realms - they’re conflict solvers and are seem as sweeter and more fragile. They experince heats and self lubricate. Most of the common demons are omegas.
Betas are a middle ground. They don’t have scents as strong as alphas or omegas, and aren’t easily affected by ruts or heats. They can still mate, however, and are often seem as level-headed and good right hands for alpha leaders. They’re rare. Barbatos is one of them.
And then there’s the Apex, the “alpha of alphas” as Asmodeus described them. An alpha so powerful he stands above all others, in the top of the “food chain.” That’s the category that fits Diavolo.
“So… what are you then, Asmo?” You ask, folding your arms above the book Solomon had highlighted to you.
Asmodeus perks up, bright as ever. “I’m an alpha, of course! Can’t you tell?” He gestures to himself, manicured nails gleaming under the bad lighting. 
“What about you?” You turn to Solomon. He hadn’t mentioned anything about humans having sub genders, but you kinda wish that was possible, although you couldn’t tell why.
Asmodeus pulls Solomon closer by the arm and beams. “He’s my omega!”
Solomon shrugs him off with a low chuckle. “Don’t make me slap you.”
“Kinky,” Asmodeus points a finger to him, smiling wide. He pulls Solomon again, by the shoulders, and lowers his turtleneck, revealing a bite. “I didn’t lie, though.” 
Solomon pushes him off with a scowl, covering the mark with his hand. “Yeah, yeah.” He waves Asmodeus off, adjusting the clothing.
You chuckle at them but say nothing. It’s clear Solomon doesn’t want you to.
Asmodeus pays his scowl no mind, resting his head on Solomon’s neck. Solomon sighs. “I’m not anything. Humans don’t have sub genders. We didn’t evolve to them, so we end up in somewhat of a grayscale. The closest thing to us would be betas.”
“Then we… claiming and that stuff… we can’t do it?” Your eyes trail to Solomon’s neck, but the bite is covered. 
“Not really,” he sighs, “this was an exception.”
“And why’s that?” Asmodeus hums, leaning over Solomon. Their faces are almost touching. 
Solomon sighs again, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Because I’m a demon’s whore.”
Asmodeus smiles, so much that little dimples show up at the corners of his lips, and he claps. “I love you so much.” 
You roll your eyes, making a vomiting sound when they kiss. Lowering your gaze, you read over the title of one of the chapters. 
“Hey,” you look up again, catching their attention, “what about your brothers? Mammon has a different scent, is he an omega?”
Asmodeus splutters, looking exaggeratedly shocked. He chuckles, strained. “Of course not!” He waves hands in front of himself, almost hitting Solomon in the face, “We’re all alphas.”
“Oh,” you say. It doesn’t make sense. None of the others have a scent like Mammon’s. It’s a little sweet, but seems clouded, slightly sour in the corners. 
“I don’t get it,” Asmodeus muses, tapping a finger to his chin, “humans don’t really feel our scent, how can he be different?”
His gaze is closed off on you, analyzing a little too much. It makes you feel like an ant under a magnifying glass, “I uh… he just does.” 
Solomon stares at you but doesn’t comment on it, even if it looks like he wants to. 
Asmodeus hums in thought, gaze still sharp on your every movement. Then, he smiles, almost artificial in its wake, “Well, whatever!” He slaps a hand to the table. At this point, the librarian gave up on shushing you.
Solomon is still staring at you. You move a little. Being watched like this makes you feel kind of squeamish.
Asmodeus is staring at Solomon, and then at you, resting his head on a palm. He hums again, stretching his arms over his head, and then he’s up, pulling Solomon with him. “We should get going!I wonder who’s on dinner duty.”
You blink. Dinner was still far away. Your study session just got cut short, and while you have no idea why, it feels like it’s your fault.
As you close the book and gather your things alongside them, the word seems to call you again. “Being an omega sounds painful, though,” you close the book, “heats and all.” 
Solomon scoffs. He closes his notebook, sliding his bag over a shoulder. “That makes it more fun.”
Asmodeus tsks, waving Solomon off, “Don’t listen to him he doesn’t have a soul.” 
Solomon neither confirms nor denies this statement, instead only giving you an amused chuckle and a tilt of the head. 
The feeling that you did something wrong, crossed a barrier you weren’t supposed to, clings to you. But still, it makes no sense. 
There’s something different about Mammon. You have to figure out why. 
-
The first thing you notice is that you’re missing a pillow. You’re back from a week filled with classes, ready to drop in bed and sleep the entire weekend when you realize something seems off. You look everywhere, but the pillow is nowhere to be found. 
Then, a couple of days later, the thin blanket you keep for movie nights and long study sessions is gone. 
It progresses like that. The throw you use to warm your feet. Your favorite stuffed animal. A fluffy winter jacket. 
When you ask, fed up with this little prank, none of the brothers seem to know where your things went. 
Your pact with Mammon is still somewhat fresh, but you find yourself going to him, if not for a solution, maybe to complain. 
The door is open when you arrive, pushing it inside without ceremony. 
“Mammon, you’re not going to believe-” 
The words die on your throat. There, spread on top of his bed, twisted and fluffed together into a carefully crafted bundle - no, your mind provides, a nest. This is a nest - are all your missing items, and, sitting on top of them with a flushed face and big eyes, is Mammon. 
Oh. 
Turns out you were right. 
“MC, I, I…” Mammon fumbles upwards, all but stumbling in the mess of blankets and pillows he has apparently snatched not only from you but from his brothers as well. There are even some pillows you don’t recognize, cow patterns all over them. 
“Mammon…” it’s all you can say. You have never dealt with this before, but the answer to your question was clear as day, right in front of you. 
Omegas nest when stressed or needy. Came Solomon’s voice, a memory from the lecture just a week before. 
“You’re an omega.” You say, in a surprised whisper, cogs turning on your mind and finally fitting with each other. 
Mammon’s face falls and his breath hitches. “How do you know about that?”
“In class… we went over the basic biology of demons and…”
He gulps audibly, eyes darting to the floor. “Then you know.”
You can almost feel the question marks forming around your head. “Know what?”
“How disgusting this is,” he gestures to the nest. His face is still reddened, voice bordering on wet, “I took your things without telling and I… I used them, my scent is all over them and now… I’m sorry, MC.”
“Mammon…” you reach towards him, but he steps back.
“You probably want them back, right?” He chuckles dryly with no real humor. “It’s okay, I get it. People don’t like when omegas get all needy, I know that.” He scratches at the back of his neck, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes tugging at his lips. “You can take them, I’ll just…” he points to the door, “yeah.”
And then he’s gone, leaving behind the same smell you came to associate with him, only much sour in its wake. Your pact mark burns, glowing a faint yellow tone. You stand next to his bed, confused and feeling like you managed to fuck up even more.
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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years
Text
Day 29: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 4)
Aaaand, part 4, the finale! 
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
@tsshipmonth2020
Day 29:  You have a telepathic link with your soulmate until the two of you meet.
Content warnings: discussion of conversion therapy/after effects, PTSD, food mentions, anxiety/panic attacks, internalized homophobia, mentions of the foster system/abuse (mental, emotional, neglect, past eating disorder), minor self harm/blood, mentions of dissociating.
Word count: 5.1k
Despite Roman’s claims that being around other people would only distract him, and he didn’t want to have to walk to the library every time he had homework, Patton’s constant pleading eventually broke him down. Now, much to his roommate’s delight, they spent every night in the middle of the study floor in the library, and Roman found that he actually looked forward to it. Sometimes someone he knew would walk by, and give him a valid reason to take a short break, and having other people around somehow motivated him to work harder. He was starting to understand the appeal of the place. 
Now, Patton and him were spending their afternoon there between classes, both working on their own projects and sharing a bag of popcorn twists. It was the only oil soaked snack that didn’t leave much residue on their fingers. Roman was deep in thought, struggling to remember an especially flowery Shakespeare monologue for a mock audition next week, when Patton kicked his leg under the table.
“What, Pat?” He took another moment to finish the sentence before he tore his eyes away from the book, surprised at his roommate’s barely contained excitement. 
“You’ve been humming for half an hour!” 
He hadn’t even noticed. He tended to do it a lot without realizing; humming along to his soulmate’s music. Ever since he’d come back almost a year ago, an occurrence he’d never had explained but held onto with fondness, Roman’s heart jumped every time his music played. It was just like old times, their old system immediately reinstated, and more than once he’d found himself singing along to the melodies in his head. Patton knew this, and could probably tell by the genre whether Roman was listening to his soulmate’s songs, or just had his own earworm.
“No, no, no, I like your humming! That’s not the point!”
“Then what’s the-”
“The guy behind you has his earbuds loud enough to hear!”
Roman strained his ears, and yes, he could barely hear the music coming from behind him. He definitely hadn’t noticed before, too deep in thought to notice something so trivial. But Patton was always on high alert, never able to keep his mind on one thing at a time. 
“Okay, but what does that ha-”
“You’ve been humming the same songs as he’s been listening to for half an hour, Ro! I think he’s your soulmate!”
Roman’s eyes widened and he spun around, effectively dropping his book onto the ground. Yeah, if he concentrated, he could tell that the song in his head was the same as the one just audible through the other’s earbuds.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive!” 
That’s all the convincing Roman needed. He jumped to his feet and rounded the other table so he was face to face with the stranger and knocked on the table a couple times. When he made eye contact, he thought he saw fear in the other’s face, but that couldn’t be right. Roman was not intimidating. The man at the table reached up to pop out one of his earbuds. 
“Hello lovely, I have a question for you,” Roman purred, dropping onto his elbows on the table. 
“I- I don’t-”
Apparently that counted as a meeting, because in that moment, the music in Roman’s head faded into nothingness. And he could tell it wasn’t just the music being paused. He was left with a neutral emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time, a silence that was rare, and an innate knowledge that it had happened: their link was no longer necessary and had dissipated. Roman grinned wide, barely concealing a squeal. 
“You’re my soulmate!”
He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected the man at the table to get up and sprint out of the building at full speed. 
“Stay here, Ro,” Patton was suddenly at his side, laying a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go after him. I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want it to happen again.”
Patton scooped up the other man’s things from the table and jogged out the library door.
-----
Virgil didn’t know where he was going; he hadn’t planned on running out of the library. Dammit, he hadn’t planned to run into his soulmate. And he knew that was his soulmate, and not just some weird coincidence. Because the moment they’d locked eyes, it was as if something in his mind had snapped, like a rubber band that had always been there but the pressure was so constant he didn’t notice it there until it was gone. Their bond had snapped; it was no longer necessary, because he’d met his soulmate. 
He recognized the guy, just barely. They were in the same first year math class, a course often taken by upperclassmen (probably like his soulmate) because they’d put off getting a math credit until their final years. Logan had warned Virgil of that when he was choosing his first year courses, and so he was safely getting it out of the way so he could focus on his major in the coming years. 
His breathing was choppy and strained as he tried to calm down his panic attack, dropping onto the ground under a large tree. He couldn’t keep running lest he collapse and draw more attention to himself, and that was far worse than anything he could imagine. Fighting the urge to scratch at his skin, he buried his head in his hoodie clad arms, fumbling with one hand to free his phone from his pocket. 
It’s actually a guy, it’s a guy, he’s gay, wrong wrong wrong-
No, not wrong. It’s not wrong.   
Yes it is, it’s going to hurt, you’re going to hurt, wrong wrONG WRONG!
His hands were shaking far too hard to text but he tried anyways, begging Janus to come pick him up early. Logan wouldn’t be done work for another couple hours, and usually Virgil would be fine just doing homework until his dad was ready to drive them home, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being on campus much longer. 
“Hey, kiddo?”
Virgil’s head jerked up just as he clicked send, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again. It wasn’t the guy… his soulmate… but someone else he hadn’t met before, panting. 
“Heya, my name’s Patton! You ran out without your stuff, so I brought it!”
Oh, he was holding his backpack, and his folder under one arm. Virgil was just trying to encourage his legs to move, to stand so he could take his things, when the stranger dropped into the grass in front of him. He flinched. 
“Here ya go,” He pushed it towards him like a child trying to coax out a scared cat, “I’m so sorry me and Ro scared you. He just gets over excited sometimes. I promise he’s actually very gentle.”
Virgil stared, pulling in a halting breath. 
“The guy who ran up to you, that’s Roman. I’m his roommate, by the way. I’m Patton. Did I introduce myself? Doesn’t matter. I’m a third year psychology major. Roman’s in third year too, music and theatre major.”
He should probably introduce himself too, but his hands were frozen, clamped around his phone, and he found his voice wasn’t cooperating. That didn’t deter the other dude, though.
“Here, I wrote out both of our numbers. Roman feels super bad for scaring you, so you can take your time, if you want.” He delicately placed a ripped piece of notebook paper on the backpack between them, “His is the first one. But I put mine in there too, so you can text me if you want to talk. The more friends, the better.”
Virgil’s phone buzzed, alerting him of Janus’ response.
“I’ll let you be, okay? Remember to text!” With an exuberant wave, he dashed back to the library. Virgil read Janus’ panicked message, asking what had happened, in a bit of a daze. His dad agreed to come get him, so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and slung his backpack over his shoulder.
-----
Janus had asked him not to go into his room when he was so worked up, instead giving him free reign of the living room while the older restarted the dinner he’d abandoned in favor of picking his son up. He’d turned on the TV for Virgil, changing the channel to a nature documentary, given Virgil his favorite weighted blanket, and left him with strict orders to call him if he started spiraling or needed a hug. 
The distraction had worked for a while, the soothing voice of the narrator almost lulling him to sleep, until his racing brain had come to the conclusion that this was the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever and that he was going to die alone. He’d been a little hopeful that his soulmate would be a girl, to somewhat appease his trauma, but life was never that easy. A part of him had also been a little miffed about that hope, because as much as he liked to pretend, he had a preference for boys. A big preference. And his soulmate was cute. 
“Everything okay, Virgil?” Janus called through the pass through window into the kitchen, taking his eyes off his food preparation to watch his son’s pacing. 
“Yup!” He lied, picking and scratching at the skin of his hands out of his dad’s view. The pain settled him a little, giving him something he could control, but he knew he’d get a figurative slap on the wrist for it later. A concerned slap, not an angry one. Maybe more of ‘a cuddle on the couch and wrap the little patches of broken skin and an update with his counsellor’. So not really a slap. At all. As it usually went. 
Everything was wrong. What kind of shit first impression had he given his soulmate? Getting up and running away like an actual child? And that was only part of it. He was damaged goods, a broken person, who needed more help and reassurance than any other person. How could he explain to his soulmate that he was the cause of his problems without making him feel guilty? That wasn’t the life the man had signed up for, wasn’t the soulmate burden he’d wanted. He would want someone easy, someone who wouldn’t have panic attacks when they got shocked by a door knob, who didn’t stop eating when they were scared, who pressed pause on life when he woke up in a dissociating headspace. He couldn’t say that to him. He’d lost everything, that vague musical connection to an invisible soulmate, that had given him a subtle hope. It had been a quiet illusion, a promise that he’d be fine if it were never fulfilled. Knowing there was someone out there, providing him music, had been enough. But now…
“Virgil, hold these for me.”
When had Logan gotten home? He put his hands out obediently, clenching the fingers over the ice cubes placed in each palm. The sensation startled him and sent a shiver up his spine.
“Four, seven, eight. Ready?”
He followed the breathing pattern eagerly, feeling the curls of anxiety in his stomach slowly settle into butterflies. When he was breathing normally, an overwhelming sense of dizziness almost knocked him over. Logan took his arm and led him to the couch.
The next moment, Janus was kneeling in front of him, rubbing disinfectant into his few bloody scratches, the melting water dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet. 
“I should have noticed,” he murmured as he stuck a couple bandaids onto each hand, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes.
“Don’t blame yourself, Janus. I don’t think it was happening for too long,” Logan assured, running a hand down Virgil’s spine. “Did this have to do with the reason you left school early today?”
Virgil nodded.
“Are you nonverbal?”
“No,” he choked, clearing his throat, “Just dry throat.”
“I got it,” Janus leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.
With a heavy sigh, Virgil leaned into Logan’s side, the hand on his back traveling to wrap around his shoulder comfortingly. The last drops of the ice cube hit the carpet, and he dried his hands off on his jeans. “I met my soulmate today.”
“I see,” Logan said. For the umpteenth time, Virgil was beyond grateful that Logan was an expert at masking reactions. It made difficult conversations easier.
“It’s a guy.”
“How did that go?”
“I ran out of the library and had a panic attack. His roommate brought me my stuff and gave me their numbers. I made an idiot out of myself.”
Logan was quiet, giving Virgil a little squeeze. A water glass was pressed into his hands and Virgil downed the whole thing, passing it back to Janus, who placed it on the coffee table. 
“I think… I think I’m magnifying. Maybe.” He described his thoughts that led to his spiral as quickly as possible, feeling slightly pleased when Logan agreed with his hypothesis. 
“You are definitely magnifying. Good job for recognizing that, Virgil. You don’t even know him, much less what he thought of your interaction.”
“What’s our next step?” Janus spoke up, resting a hand on Virgil’s knee and rubbing it with his thumb.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Can you sleep on it, and message him tomorrow?”
Virgil thought about for a second before shaking his head even harder, “No. I have class with him tomorrow, and we’re getting a study guide for a test. I can not miss it. But what if he comes up to me, or wants to talk, and I embarrass myself again, and-”
His dads both hushed him at the same time and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes against Logan’s side. “What do I do?”
“You could message him tonight,” Janus drawled.
“Are you crazy?” He shrieked, “No! What would I even say? ‘Hey, you freaked me out today, sorry for running like a lunatic’?!”
“Why not explain the cause for your hasty escape?” Logan piped in.
“That’s way too much to load onto him as a first conversation.”
“Not all the gory details, just a vague explanation. That’s how I started talking to Logan,” Janus stated, adjusting his position on the floor. “If he’s your soulmate, Virge, he’ll be okay to deal with this. It’ll come out eventually, and if something else happens, it will be nice for him to have some context.”
Virgil groaned. “I hate when you make sense.”
“We can help you construct an adequate message.” Logan squeezed him again, meeting Janus’ eyes with a small smile.
“Fine.” Virgil snarled, pulling out his phone and the two numbers, typing the first one into his ‘new contact’ list. “Okay, what do I say?”
-----
V: Hey, I’m Virgil. We met earlier today. In a manner of speaking.
R: OMG, hi! I’m Roman. I am SO sorry for startling you!
V: It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. 
R: I still feel bad DX
“He feels bad, what do I do?!”
“I would suggest explaining the reason you ran off to ease his concerns.”
“Me too. But ask first, and don’t give more details than you’re comfortable with.”
V: Can I be brutally honest for just a second?
R: Should I be nervous? Haha go ahead!
V: I was forced into conversion therapy about a year back, and I still carry a lot of the trauma with me. That’s why I ran. It was just gut instinct.
“He’s not responding, oh god, he’s going to block me, why isn’t he responding?!”
“I assume this news would take a moment to process. Focus on your breathing, Virgil. Don’t magnify.”
“You also sent it, like, ten seconds ago.”
R: Holy shit, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry. 
“...That’s not what I expected.”
“This is a regular reaction from a human being with even a lick of common sense, Virgil.”
“Seconded.”
V: It’s okay, I have a really great support system now. 
R: That’s good. I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I can only imagine how hard that was. 
R: I don’t expect you to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know, so please don’t feel pressured, but do you know what kind of soulbond we have? Is it platonic?
“Shit, fuck, who do I answer that?”
“With the truth, I’d imagine. Do you have an answer to his question?”
“Remember what I told you, kid. Your own pace.”
“Logan, if I explain it, can you put it into words? Please?”
V: I’m not averse to a possible romantic relationship in the future, but at the moment I am still learning to become comfortable with myself, as I have negative connections to that part of my identity that can become problematic if not properly worked through at my own pace.
R: Give me a couple seconds to decode that
V: My dad wrote it, he’s a prof. I have both of them helping me not freak out right now. 
R: You might want to date one day, but you need to take it slow because of your trauma. 
V: Uhm… yeah. I could have said it like that. 
R: Is talking to me upsetting you? We can always talk another time.
V: No, I’m okay. 
R: Okay, then as far as I’m concerned, we move at your pace. That’s not an issue for me at all. 
“I… oh. He’s… wow.”
“I agree with your sentiment.”
“I like this boy already.”
“DAD!”
R: Your dad’s a prof? 
V: One of them is. He teaches at our school, Prof Sanders. 4th year chemistry?
R: Oh shit. I’m in his class.
V: Lol he thinks he knows you
R: You have two dads?
V: Yep
R: That’s so cool. I’d really love to meet them.
V: Wow, we met today and you’re already wanting to meet my parents?
R: Heeey, I want to meet them as a FRIEND. 
V: My dad says after the semester’s over, you’re free to come by
One at a time, Virgil’s dads left him on the couch with an ear to ear grin, Janus to reheat dinner and Logan following him just so he could cling to his husband's waist as he moved around the kitchen. Neither of them wanted to disturb the little bubble their son was in. 
-----
In the weeks following, they’d started to sit together in the one class they shared. Virgil had begun to join him and Patton on their nightly library study sessions, and after some more gentle convincing, had given in to sitting with their whole friend group during meals at the cafeteria. He was growing more comfortable with Roman, no doubt about that.
Didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting off an anxiety attack as he waited by the door to get picked up for their first outing alone.
He kept checking his phone and glancing out the peephole as Janus ran calming fingers through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch instinctively, consciously slowing his breathing as Janus hummed. Logan was watching him from the entrance to the hall, leaning on the kitchen door frame. There wasn’t much he could do, but dammit if he wasn’t going to watch his son go off on the most anxiety inducing situation of all of their lives.
“You’ll be okay, kid,” Janus muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve been friends with him for a while now, and he said there were no expectations. You’re in total control here.”
“What if I have a flashback, or a panic attack, or go nonverbal or something? He’s going to freak the fuck out and then all the work will be for noth-”
Logan spoke up. “You’re worried about things that may not even happen. And besides, haven’t you spoken to Roman about these things already?”
“A bit. Not in detail,” he whispered.
“I would suggest you do so, today if possible. It will make any possible situations that arise easier and less jarring to deal with.”
Virgil looked up at Janus, a pleading look in his eyes.
“He’s right, kid. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”
There was a knock at the door and Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. To his disdain, Janus backed away until he was next to Logan, gesturing at the door with a small smile. Virgil growled out a curse and opened the door, the scowl on his face melting into a sickeningly authentic smile.
“How’s my favorite emo? Hi Mr. Sanders, hey Prof.”
“Hello.”
“Salutations.”
“Your favorite emo?” Virgil snarked, pulling on his jacket. It wasn’t cold, not in the slightest, but he’d rather have the extra layer.
“You’re the only emo I know, so the choice is easy.”
“By process of elimination, doesn’t that also imply I’m your least favorite emo too?”
“Don’t start this again, Mr. Son-of-a-professor.”
“I’ll start it if I want to!”
The door closed behind them with one final wave to his parents, and the house was quiet. Janus leaned into Logan’s waiting arms, resting his head on the other’s collar bone. 
“He’s all grown up.”
“That he is, my love.”
-----
Virgil smirked as Roman set out a large cliche picnic blanket, gesturing for him to sit. He did, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees as the other began to unload the basket. 
“Okay, so for sandwiches, I have turkey, peanut butter and jelly, and ham. Patton made me bring apple slices because he’s a dad, but I’m sure we can convince the ducks to eat them.”
To prove his point, a group of ducks paddled out from under a weeping willow half submerged in the creek.
“I like apples,” Virgil defended, grabbing a slice from the open container and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “How many people were you intending to feed with that much food?”
Roman pouted from behind a container of potato salad. “I had to show off my food skills, duh.”
“You made that?” Virgil asked with raised eyebrows as Roman set out a tin of mini quiches and a smaller one stacked with brownies and cookies. 
“The cookies were Patton’s, but he insisted I take some. And I would have bought more, but…” He tipped the basket towards Virgil, revealing the bottom absolutely filled with different canned drinks and water bottles. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”
Virgil actually did laugh as he stretched forward to snag a Doctor Pepper, taking another apple slice as he sat back. 
“Do you have a sandwich preference?” Roman asked, choosing a Sprite for himself. 
“Turkey looks good.” Virgil said before his choice paralysis could come into play, breathing a sigh of relief as Roman handed one of the sandwiches to him. The less stress he added to his own life, the better. 
Roman had been right to bring an assortment of food, because dammit, he was a really good chef. Virgil was nervous to try a quiche, since he’d never had them before and the texture was odd to him, but Roman assured that if he didn’t like it, he’d eat it instead. Apparently he wasn’t eeked out by germs. After a nibble though, Virgil ate almost half the tin. Who knew cold eggs could be good? Roman took the ham sandwich, and they split the PB&J. The ducks were more than pleased to be given Roman’s half of the apple slices but Virgil refused to share, since fresh fruits were still a treat after a life of preserves. The younger wasn’t a huge fan of the potato salad, so Roman eagerly finished it, seemingly more excited to move onto the desserts but not wanting to leave any leftovers. 
They were just finishing up the frankly absurd amount of cookies and brownies when Roman broke their casual bickering, chasing a chocolate chip bite with a long swig of Sprite and tossing another apple to their swarm of awaiting ducks.
“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Virge.”
“What do you want to know?” Virgil replied, leaning back on his hands. 
“Anything, really. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, darkest fear.”
“Quite a spectrum, there.” There was a lot he could talk about, but he felt it might be better to get the bigger things out of the way. Janus was sort of the leading expert on this kind of thing, so his advice had probably been sound. He brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off them as he spoke, “Okay, so I grew up in the foster system.”
Roman tried to hide his wince. “Ouch. I’ve heard a lot of bad things.”
“It’s fucked,” Virgil drawled, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “I spent most of my time in a group home, though, because I was called ‘difficult’. No one wanted to deal with my ass.”
“Why?”
“Mmm, ran away, didn’t listen, talked back, antagonized any biological kids.”
“So like, a normal teenager?” The last apple slice was sacrificed to the feathered hoard. 
Virgil snorted, “Yeah, but I came with a receipt. And I kind of liked the group home more.”
“How many kids were in the home?”
“Never more than fifteen. It was a big home. But they circulated, and I was like a housecat. Never gone for more than a month.”
“Jeez,” Roman sighed, taking a sip of his soda. 
“My foster homes weren’t better.”
“Oh?” It was a subtle encouragement to keep talking, but now it was getting into territory that Virgil liked to avoid. 
“One of my foster houses was really neglectful, forgot to give us food, didn’t let us do laundry, that kind of stuff. Gave me a wicked ED. I was twelve.”
Roman grimaced.
“My next one was more emotionally and mentally manipulative. I was kind of made into a babysitter for their younger bio kids. I had to get them ready for school, make them dinner, just basically be a parent. After I ran away from them, they started having trouble placing me. I was older, had a shitty record, kind of a left over. I mean, I deserved it. I was a dick.”
“You were a kid, Virgil.”
“A kid who chose to make his own life harder.” He shrugged, “That’s why I was placed into… that home. They were a last resort place for other ‘trouble kids’.”
Virgil took a deep breath and, with Janus’ words in his mind, began to explain his attempted conversion; the slip of tongue that led to the placement, the verbal abuse, food deprivation, electroshock therapy, the snuck antipsychotics, forced isolation, ending with the day the wife had called the police behind her husband’s back out of guilt and he was rescued. 
Roman was quiet for a long minute after he finished talking, staring entranced at the can in his hands. The ducks had dispersed during Virgil’s story, upset at the lack of food. 
“I…”
Virgil waited for him to get up and leave, to say with false apologies that he didn’t think they would work out, that the connection was wrong. Because who would want to deal with him, his stupid trauma? But the man next to him didn’t move except to breathe, and Virgil took that as an invitation to continue, his tone quieter.
“I was super out of it for a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the rescue, or like a solid month after that, except for snippets here and there. The drugs were fucky. And then my social worker, god bless her heart, found Janus and Logan. Janus was in CT too for a while when he was younger, so they took me in. Took a long time, but I opened up to them, but by then I was eighteen. They still insisted on adopting me, though, and there’s absolutely no convincing Logan once he’s made his mind up, so… they did.” He waved his hands around a little. 
“Three months,” Roman blurted out of nowhere, making Virgil flinch.
“What?”
“Were you in ther-... CT for three months?”
“Two and a bit, why?” The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized the implications, and his heart froze.
“You were gone for three months. I thought you died, or… I don’t even know.” Roman looked like he was about to cry, watching Virgil imploringly. Him going MIA must have affected his soulmate more than he’d thought. 
“Two months of CT, and then another one before I got a new phone. I’m…” All the guilt he’d felt at the time came rushing back, the reminder of his soulmate’s music dwindling to almost nothing and him being helpless, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. That must have been…” 
“No, Virgil, you don’t get to apologize. That was not your fault.” He reached out a hand as if to grab Virgil’s and immediately pulled back, wringing his fingers instead. “Sorry, my choice of comforting is physical. But I won’t.”
“Thank you,” Virgil choked out, running his hands through his hair.
“Can you look at me?”
He did, taking a shuddering breath. He was moments away from a panic attack and he was not looking forward to that disaster. 
“You were being- quite literally- tortured for months. You were abused in ways that shouldn’t be legal, and you came out the other side stronger. Frankly, I’m amazed at your perseverance. You’re amazing.”
Simultaneously, Virgil felt a hot blush rise to his ears, and a sharp jolt run through his arms into his chest. He jerked violently, tipping over his own soda onto the grass. 
“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Roman gasped, reaching over to pluck up the can before it could spill more. It was already half empty, thank goodness. 
“No, I just… do that. Sometimes. From… CT. Kind of like ghost shocks, I guess.” Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole, he wondered. He hadn’t done that jerk thing in front of anyone in so long. The last time had been in front of his now-parents, and they’d quickly grown used to it. He’d grown used to their own contact very soon and his twitches had stopped after he was accustomed to it, but it had never been directed towards him, and he had a feeling he’d need time to stop his impulse reactions. 
“And me calling you amazing…”
“Triggered them. It’s an exposure thing though, so I’ll just need to get used to it. Don’t blame yourself.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white flashes of light burst into his vision. Suddenly, he was exhausted. 
“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman asked, already packing up their picnic basket. Virgil nodded, his social meter drained, and all ability to be a civil person was quickly deteriorating. His therapist said that would also begin to heal after a while. 
Roman was an absolute angel though, letting the silence linger so Virgil could cradle his slowly growing headache, even opening the door of his car like a perfect gentleman. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Virgil rested his head against the seat and let a tiny smile tug at his lips. It would be a long process to retrain his brain (in theory, he was okay with being in a relationship with a man, but actually doing it? Infinitely harder), but for once, he was actually looking forward to the process. 
Would you guys like a collection of one shots surrounding Virgil’s gradual warming up to his new family, a decent mix of angst and fluff? I have some ideas. 
Thanks for reading! Now, a taglist. 
@sapphic-satan
@anxious-logic
@wigsnatchedhoteltrivago
@extraintrovertedalien
@punk-academian-witch
@ray-does-stuff
@chimneychimney
@i-cant-find-a-good-username
@falsemood
@wtf-casper
@cpmansion
@killjoyjay
@fandomfan315
@anxious-darkwolf
@eternalmoonlight19
@winterwynd
@espepspes
@ironwoman359
@willowaudreykeyes
@mycatshuman
@weweregoddesses
@im-an-anxious-wreck
@imknittingahat
@surohsopsisofclouds
@korsaromantic66
@astraheart04
@quartz-z
@mikalya12
@koalas-in-coffee
@isabelle-stars
@a-ghostlight-for-roman
@existentialeggdogg
@pumpkinminette
@coffeeflavoredtears525600
@wyvern-tales
@heyhalloween
@grayson-22
@bullet-tothefeels
@mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon
@lovelivingmydreams
@sarcasmremovedsoul
@crofterskinnie
@blissbiscuit
@baka-monarch
@lostspacecat
@green-call
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cuuno-moved · 4 years
Text
"I Don't Think I Want To Leave You"
Summary: Tommy gets a disc from Wilbur nearly a year after he died.
TW: suicide mention
(inspired by "i'm sorry boris" by wilbur soot)
That was nothing new, nothing that people didn’t know, especially not Tommy.
Wilbur Soot was dead, and gone.
He missed Wilbur, sometimes, but it was duller now than it’d been a year ago, the sharp pain in his throat when he thought about his old friend the only lingering hint that he wasn’t okay.
He’d lost other people too, in other ways.
He’d lost Eret, before Wilbur, when she pressed that button, spoke those words.
He lost Tubbo, and got him back, and almost lost him again.
He lost Techno, his old mentor, to raging fires and anger, screaming across a chasm.
He lost Fundy, and Niki, and Jack, by ignoring them, forgetting them, letting them fade to nothing, until they had to force their ways back, with flint blazing.
Before that, before the SMP, he’d lost the bay.
He’d lost his family.
Wilbur Soot was dead, and Tommy was used to it.
It wasn’t until Quackity went to double-check Pogtopia for supplies that he found the chest, tucked in the rebellion leader’s room.
Inside was a disc, labelled ‘I’m Sorry Tommy’.
Quackity didn’t listen to it. He just delivered the disc, pity shining in his good eye, his face twisted in concern.
Tommy didn’t listen to the disc. Not yet. Not until the hotel was done and he sat in his suite, listening to the cats purr and hiss and meow, and he decided he would rather listen to anything else.
The familiar sound of guitar chords filled the room.
It’s weird, how he could always tell when it was Wilbur playing. Quackity strummed his guitar with so much confidence, making noise, making it loud. Tubbo plucked the strings, almost like he was scared to hit them with any sort of force. George only ever played when he was drunk, and then, it was sloppy, meant to appease Sapnap instead of meaning to make music.
Wilbur’s fingertips scratched against the strings as he switched chords, plucking the strings gently, individually, more of an absentminded reaction to feeling the guitar in his hands. He didn’t sound like he meant to make music, but he did.
Tommy had missed that sound, the sound that filled late nights in L’Manburg, the echoing of the chords bouncing off the walls.
The music stopped, suddenly, then continued, this time accompanied by a voice, crooning gently.
“I figured out what can move me…”
Tommy blinked. It was odd to hear Wilbur’s voice so soft, like he was whispering, trying to keep quiet.
“It’s trains, hugs, planes and sushi…”
He leaned against the speaker, closing his eyes.
“And I’m sorry, but Tommy, I’m leaving.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself.
When had he written this? He had never been so soft at the end, this had to have been in the first week or so, right?
Or had he been planning his own death for so much longer than Tommy had thought?
It was suddenly cold, and Tommy shivered. He wondered if it was worth getting up and leaving the jukebox to grab a blanket from his bed.
It was odd, hearing Wilbur so soft. It was almost magical. Back when they first met, when Tommy was a kid, 10 or so, and Wilbur was a teenager, he’d played guitar for him, but then, it’d been songs about women, and love, and little Tommy had sung along.
As time went on, the songs got sadder, until Wilbur plucked at guitar strings and crooned about death.
His last song was one called Jubilee Line, and Tommy had left before he had finished, unable to hear him sing so lightly of such horrible things.
He hadn’t been paying attention to the music.
The song had slowed down, until it was almost done.
“I don’t think I want to leave you…”
Tommy laughed at that, although it wasn’t funny.
He had wanted to leave, obviously. He wanted to leave so bad he couldn’t wait to say goodbye, couldn’t wait to die.
The guitar stopped, and there was silence, Tommy sighed, pulling himself to his feet to turn of the jukebox, but as he reached for the button, a quiet chuckle came from the speaker, and he hesitated.
“Sorry, Tommy. I love you.”
He froze.
“I don’t want to leave you, really I don’t. You’re the only reason I haven’t offed myself yet, but if this goes right… It’s the 14th, Tommy. Two days left. If you’re hearing this, the war went well. We won, and then I died. I’m sorry, Tommy, I really am.”
Tommy stood there, hand hovering over the button as Wilbur sighed, then muttered something under his breath, and then the recording clicked, and it was over.
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