#I wil feed it to my friends

[mdoesitmatter]

I SPENT THREE HOURS OF MY LIFE TO COOK THIS CHEESECAKE. LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE PUKE. YOU CAN’T??? HUH, GLAD TO INFORM IT ALSO TASTES LIKE PUKE.

WTF I WILL NEVER TRUST TIKTOK RECIPES AGAIN IN MY LIFE.

[hammerhead-jpg]

Lazy ahh doodles of some of the other pjo characters cuz they need some love too

[nebulousboundsfloof]

The primary alteration I did was insert a drawstring in most of the waistbands of my skirts step one is to unpick about 3-5in of the center (ish) of the front of the skirt (or wherever you're sticking your grommets and tails)

I used a pair of pins to mark the start and end of my section. There's two rows of stitching at the waistband you'll have to undo.

The next thing you'll need to do is poke your holes for your grommets (grommets are important to prevent wear on the waistband and unraveling)

Because the materials you are setting the grommets in are very stretchy you want to make that stretch work to your advantage and make the tiniest hole you can get away with (if your hole is too big the material will stretch away from the grommet and the grommet will fall out) I found that only cutting vertical threads in the elastic worked best (and not more than like 3) I used the tip of my seam ripper to gently move the threads over to the sides of the grommet.

The placement of your grommets is very important. You need to make sure there is roughly 1/2 in between the edge of the grommet and the end of your open section so you can fit your setting tool in and that the pair of grommets are not too close together (for me that is about 1-3 in apart, you do want to be able to bridge that gap with your lace)

Next you will thread your drawstring. I'm using 72in shoelaces, use whatever you like. I chose shoelaces because they come with nicely finished ends, are fairly durable and come standard in several sizes. Whatever you use you'll want it to be about 16in longer than your body's widest point (roughly 8in per end to tie with at the most relaxed)

Now while you can feed it without a tool (so long as it has a hard end you can feel and move from outside the waistband a safety pin works ok in a pinch) I strongly recommend using a tool of some kind. The ideal tool for the job is a bodkin (a clamping lacing tool specifically designed for this sort of thing) of course I have consistently failed to aquire one for the last decade or so so I'm using a pair of clamping tweezers (not ideal but workable)

You'll also want to secure the other end (not the feeding end, I usually feed it through the eyelet and tie a decent knot in it and that'll handle it. You will want to start feeding into the waistband on the same side as the eyelet you used as an anchor and away from the other eyelet

Some tips for feeding drawstrings (particularly those paired with elastic)

-Feed your drawstring a few inches then grip the waistband and string in one hand while shoving the gathered material away towards the other end of the channel

-The seams and pockets are the fiddliest bit but a bit of careful wiggling will get you past them (it is an open channel all the way around!!) DO NOT force it gentle wiggling is your friend

-Your hand will probably get tired after a bit don't hurt yourself and feed the next one the opposite way.

-Because of the construction of these skirts I ended up feeding my drawstring along the outside of the elastic inside the outer portion of the waistband feeding from the same side as your drawstring is much easier (even though your grommets are in the inside of the skirt)

Once your drawstring is fed through you are on to the next tricky bit. Sewing.

You probably can hand sew it. I didn't. I'd guess that an invisible hem stitch and a running stitch might be the best way to do that but ymmv. I did mine on a machine, which had it's struggles but also was easier for me.

Sewing directions wil be continued in the reblog because I seem to have hit the image limit.

[4veslil]

Oneshot | Friends Made In Strange Places | Aegon Targaryen II

A/N: Another Oneshot from my Ao3 and Wattpad accounts, the last three I have posted are my faves and probably the few I have that have been completed or exited the idea stage haha

SUMMARY: (Female) Reader is the maid/nanny for Aegon's children, and while you watch over the princes an unlikely friendship forms.

TW: Minor Character Death, Loss, (Class) Discrimination, Abuse of Power, Depictions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Incest, Mentions of SA (because no, I'm sorry, you can't like a character and just erase all the shitty things they did, it WILL be addressed in this oneshot)

★ MASTER LIST HERE ★

WORD COUNT: 4,999

The Red Keep was still, the night had cast a blanket of its mercy. It hid the guards in shadowed corners and allowed the court to sleep. They were tucked away in their beds, their dreams taking them to a peaceful realm. Only you, a single maid was not allowed such a night, made to watch over Maelor as the Queen slept. He was ceaseless. Nothing seemed to work, not the feeding, the burping, the changing, the small bounces or the soft songs. You feared he had colic. After all, he seemed to cry incessantly for no reason at all.

You continued to bounce the child, lifting him to your shoulder as you looked out over the King's Landing. At least not all were captured in dreams, many were awake but too far to see. You could glimpse at the small lights from houses but not a soul. In the darkness of the chamber, you felt the only being alive, trapped in torment as the baby refused to settle.

You hoped by laying Maelor down and rubbing his tummy that soon he'd find peace, feel the comfort of the cot to finally, sleep. Tears pricked your eyes.

"Please" you murmured, breaking the quiet of the chamber with your silent plea.

No wonder the Queen Mother made you, not Queen Heleana, comfort the child. He was not even yours yet the stress felt no different. He was forever restless, nothing could calm him. You considered feeding him again but that felt no use, he had eaten not long ago. Perhaps, you smirked, he was a true Targaryen, wilful and torturous when he wanted to be. But he was but a baby, it was funny musing to pass the time.

Once again a lullaby left your lips trying to soothe the child. Your mother had sung it to you in the Riverlands. You had not seen her for years, her health becoming poorly and you too busy to visit. Your sister said it was an affliction unlike any she saw.

Your singing grew louder at the memory- a whisper that carried across the chamber, your hand rubbing the child's tummy to the rhythm.

"Why is he not asleep?". You shot up, immediately, turning to the voice. The wails of Maelor did nothing to quench the fear filling your stomach, you hoped he could drown it so it wasn't clear on your face.

"Your Majesty" you bowed, being quick to pick up the child afterwards. It wasn't out of comfort, no, Maelor had now become your own meat shield. You had heard what he'd done to Dyana and that would never become you. Close you held him to your chest and bounced lightly.

"How long has he been crying?" His voice was unusually concerned. You didn't think the King cared much for anything unless it was his cups or whores.

"All night. Nothing seems to settle him, Your Majesty"

He nodded in contemplation and stepped closer. You were rooted to the ground. Soon he reached you in a few quick steps and plucked the child from your arms.

It was like magic, with a few simple bounces, pats on his back and soft soothing escaping his lips, the child's wails began to lessen. It was like the King was a baby whisperer. The child knew when fire and blood were near.

"How... how?" You could only say, your eyes wide with shock and a pained relief.

"He is my child, he knows it is me" he whispered.

"But I tried everything, I have always taken care of him... Your Majesty", you nearly forgot his title.

"Maelor is fussy, spoilt. He will cry until I am here. I was late"

You soon came to the realisation, after sifting through your memories, that this was the first night you were the last to hold Maelor. The King did indeed care for the children, coming every bedtime to settle the child into his cot. All the while, you would clear the room of toys and his old day clothes.

"I never noticed, Your Majesty. I apologise" you bowed.

"Do not worry, even as King many do not pay attention to me"

"I am sure many do, Your Majesty"

The King chuckled, shaking his head with an almost sad smile. Not only did you realise he was rocking the child in his arms, but his feet were pulling on and off the floor. Once again in his cups you assumed.

"You smallfolk, still know nothing of this Keep" he said aloud in the barest whisper. He refused to meet your eyes, they were fixed on the child.

You didn't understand what had caused this bout of honesty. Before you had pictured yourself becoming Dyana, you knew how to escape that. But handling the spoken sorrows of a king, was something you were unprepared for.

"Tis my duty to care for your children. Not think of court matters, that is not my place Your Majesty"

"Of course, all none the wiser while we burn" he smirked sardonically.

"Are we to burn, Your Majesty?", your lip trembled at the words. You were pushing too far, eventually, he would find disobedience among the questions. Perhaps cast you out the Keep for insolence.

The King shrugged, a small shift of his shoulders. Too much like a child. "Perhaps, perhaps not. None of us wants to but maybe it is inevitable"

"Do you fear it, Your Majesty?"

The enquiry hung in the air. This was the moment it would all come crashing down. Your bags would be packed by dawn and onto the streets you would be cast. You walked a path so unpredictable, so treacherous, but you couldn't help yourself. There was a vulnerability in the King that had to be addressed. You doubted with the Queen's sensitive mind and their Mother's lack of emotional comfort that the King had someone to talk to.

The King has no friends, only followers, you once heard. And the phrase couldn't be truer now.

"The stranger comes for us all" he quoted with a mocking tone. The Queen Mother's pious voice was not lost on you.

"Not always, sometimes he's merciful"

"You think death can be a mercy?"

You had to tread carefully, "I have had yet to suffer to truly feel so. But in other's suffering, my family's, the darkest parts of me fear it's the only way"

"Would you willingly go to the stranger, four your family?"

"I love my family, I do. But I hope to be honest with my King. I would never be without a fight. I have too much to live for Your Majesty"

The King nodded, seeming to contemplate the thought, surprisingly considering your words despite your station.

"You are dismissed" he finally spoke amongst the silence.

And you didn't think twice before quickly escaping from the child's chambers. Your heart was thrumming in relief while it momentarily throbbed with regret. Something about the king was almost- no, it was pitiful. You couldn't help but look back and capture those eyes. They spoke of a pain far greater than you had realised.

You hoped soon he would find solace somewhere. Not just in his cups, or in whores, but in genuine company.

-

The next night you had returned to the nursery after tucking Jaehaerys and Jaeheara into bed. They had separated the two from baby Maelor due to his wails, endlessly echoing throughout the keep until the King came.

This time his crying wasn't as loud but he was so restless you couldn't help but swaddle him. You didn't hear of the crown swaddling their children like this, so tightly bound in a scarf their limbs were trapped against their bodies. You only ever saw them in long baby clothes wrapped in delicate fabrics, their arms and legs still free to kick. You hoped it would settle him to sleep, cast the child back to a time it was safe in the Queen's womb.

"He looks like a loaf of bread" The King chuckled, his eyes crinkling and smile wide like a jokester. You had made way to rise but his hand gestured you to stay.

"He is swaddled Your Majesty, hopefully, he will sleep better this way," you remarked, looking back down at the child. His eyes were still teary and his mouth contorted to release a powerful wail that never came, silent amongst the night.

"It seems you have discovered his weakness, why does it work?"

A King who is impulsive, reckless, and sinful, you wondered what turned him to question. He did not seem a man for curiosity if it was not amongst the Street of Silk.

"If you wrap them tightly they feel like they're in their mother again, where they were once safe and sound", the back of your finger ran down the child's cheek. Another cry threatened to blast from his lips as you shushed Maelor. 

"It's a shame we cannot remember it like them" he nodded, and slowly he stepped closer. Almost cautious, making your hair stand on end.

"Is that jealousy I hear Your Majesty?" you quipped, trying to dispel your nerves; forgetting who stood before you despite speaking the title.

"Are you not jealous?" He countered, his brow suddenly stern with venom. You knew to tread carefully, you did not know what he was thinking.

"How can I miss something I've never known, Your Majesty?"

"Many people do. Money, power, women. They'll never have it yet crave it"

"And because of that, you think they're lacking?", your eyebrow quirked.

"Do you not lack in life? A wet nurse with no child, no husband, no power" he smirked, his tone full of mocking.

Your heart stopped, or the pain in your chest felt it did. Your gut had been punched, a wave of anger sifted through you that was uncontrollable, and the only thing stopping you from boiling over was the child in your arms. He was still a King, no matter what you saw the night before, he would always look down on you. No conversation could remould the chain. Change the way of things.

"I have a family that loves me, food in my belly, a roof over my head and work to keep me busy. I am lacking in nothing Your Majesty, I have everything I need"

"Because you do not know more than a small, meagre life. Never getting what you want"

"It is better than watching you drown your sorrows despite everything you have" you suddenly snapped and aback the King was taken. His poison lost on the truth you had spoken.

"You know nothing about me," he growled, stepping closer, his hand on the back of your chair, lowering himself face to face. His stark white hair had cast a curtain around you; there was nowhere to look but him, and you could not tear yourself away.

"Neither do you. I bet this is the longest conversation you have had with a woman without spreading her legs" You stood firm, you wouldn't show him weakness. It could mean your head but a part of you pitied. There was still a boy clawing for power and adoration behind those eyes.

"You think you are funny"

"Oh the funniest Your Majesty"

Your eyes were locked, battling in a silent rage.

"Why do you not fear me?" He uttered from the tense silence, breaking the atmosphere.

The words were lost on you, still lost when he gradually pulled away with the child taken into his arms. While you gnashed your fangs at one another, Maelor had found sleep among the chaos.

"I will take my leave, Your Majesty"

And with that, once again you fled.

-

"You are a strange woman" he sounded from the doorway, leaning against the frame as you looked over Jaehaerys. The boy had come down with a slight fever, nothing the measters couldn't tend to but, they insisted someone sit tight.

"Strange in what way Your Majesty?" you sighed, preparing to tolerate his presence after last week.

You had not spoken since, only coming into his presence so he could settle Maelor into bed. He could not manage a word between you before you ran to your cot.

"You come back" The King shrugged, his arms still knotted at his chest. You felt something brewing.

"Where else could I go Your Majesty?"

"There are many duties you could take up"

"Like your cupbearer?" You bantered with an edge. The King stalked further into the chamber, coming behind your chair. He fixed his hands to the corners of it, leaning close to your back.

"That does not sound too bad my lady"

"I am no lady" you shook your head.

"Then what is your name?" you hesitated for a moment. To disobey would be a great offence and you already offended too much.

You told him in a quiet whisper, hoping it evaded his ears. But the smallfolk achieved little victories in King's Landing. It echoed from between his lips with a slight slur.

"You are drunk Your Majesty" you came to realise.

"Never more than usual" he huffed.

"Still, what if you fell?"

"Is that a threat?" He chuckled lowly, his mouth suddenly at your ear.

You refused to lean away, refused to show weakness, and said that he had a chance of winning.

"It is an educated guess from knowing men too fond of their cups"

"I am not most men"

"No, you are the King. Even more, reason to be wary"

His hand came to curl a lock of your hair around his finger, his pull was so delicate but too close. "You speak so well for a wet nurse"

"My father was an educator, he spoke well and in turn, so do I"

He tugged slightly on the lock, and your head came into contact with his temple. It was too close for comfort but you swallowed the unnerving twang in your stomach. You assumed it to be an element of disgust but were surprised to feel your heart pull. How long had it been since a man played with your hair? Spoke to you so softly? Bantered back and forth with you? How long had it been since you felt wanted?

"Such a strange woman..."

"Should I thank Your Majesty?"

"What for?" You could feel the quirk of his brow against your head.

"For not demanding my attention but earning it?"

You did not hear an answer, did not see his mouth slip open to respond. Only the small, meagre coughs from Jeahaerys called your ears and onto him you focused. Not the King standing perplexed behind you.

Yet still, it was on that night, one so quiet and strange. For the first time in a long while, you admitted in the deepest cracks of your heart, you wanted something.

-

When you opened the door to Maelor's nursery you were surprised to see King Aegon sitting with the child on his chest. For the first time in two weeks, he was settled before you acted.

"You have overtaken my duties Your Majesty" You smiled quietly, it barely ghosted over your expression.

But he remained still, his eyes cast down. Or so it seemed. As you crept further you came to realise the King's state. When asleep like this he simply appeared as Aegon Targaryen. There were no drunken words, unsteady feet, no emotional rampage.

Your feet were delicate across the stone floor until you crouched slightly to gaze at his face closer. His features were still boyish, no longer contorted with stress and sorrow. His hair was strewn across his brow, short threads of silver like cobwebs- soft and delicate.

Without thinking, your hand came forward and brushed them aside, barely skimming across his pale skin. You hoped to stay like this for a little while longer but the contact snapped his eyes open. It was instinct that his hand seemed to trap your wrist in his grasp.

"What are you doing?" He grumbled, his grip becoming tighter. Your expression winced in pain, rippling fear across your body.

"I-I apologise, Your Majesty, forgive me" you stuttered.

"Who gave you the right to touch me?" He grimaced.

"Nobody Your Majesty, there... there was a bug" The lie was terrible, absolutely unbelievable and with the quiet laughter that rang out, you knew he knew it too.

"You think I am stupid", he threw your wrist from his grasp.

"I think you are merciful"

"Another word for weak" he scoffed.

"Mercy is only available to those with power"

He contemplated the words for a moment before standing, in quick succession he placed Maelor down and turned quick on his heels.

"Follow me" Aegon commanded resolutely, your position offered no chance to refuse. You were trapped but a bigger part of you remained curious.

Was this how Dyana fell into his snare? Goading her with comforting words. Did he play with her hair too? You thought.

You traced your steps behind Aegon, small and unsure until you reached his chambers. It was coming, you were sure of it. The guards at his door looked upon you with pitying eyes as you could only cast yours down.

Inside it was just as you heard, barren of the late King's possessions, littered with cups half drunken and yet to be taken away. You could hear him refusing it. Wine stains yet to be scrubbed from the floor littered the stone. The guards pitied you, but your own was reserved for Aegon.

He poured himself another cup, you recognised it as Dornish. The previous Lord you had worked under had a fine taste for it.

"You can call me Aegon in this room" he announced, extending a cup toward you. You took it with trembling fingers and thanked him. Only accepting the drink to hide the shakes that fluttered your limbs.

"I could not Your Majesty" you fretted.

"It is an order, you would not disobey your King, would you?"

"No, your Ma-" you looked up to see his eyes bore into you as the title hung from the tip of your tongue, "No, Aegon" you corrected.

"Marvelous, now! Let's drink"

"Excuse me Your- Aegon, why am I here?", Aegon paused the cup's movement, the rim just licking his lip.

"I am in need of a drinking buddy and honest companion"

"I am sure you have many of those at your disposal"

"None as pretty as you. Now drink, I insist"

Your cheeks blared a deep pink, heating your face to a degree your previous lover couldn't muster.

Unlike in his children's chambers, Aegon appeared more free than ever. Only in the nights did you spy on the King or keep his company, in those moments, there was a sadness riddled within the man too deep to weed out.

Your lips pressed to the rim of the cup before finally taking one gulp. Aegon's eyes of disapproval encouraged another, then a third before finally, he was pleased.

It was strong but unlike anything you had tasted before. It was spiced, not too dry and had a sweetness to it that lightened the mood.

"It is good Aegon" you complimented and for once, a genuine smile stretched upon his face.

"I knew you would enjoy it! Now come, come see" he gestured to the balcony. You felt like you were being dragged around like a child so excited to show you his toys. He was not a child in any way, but the desire for approval was apparent as Aegon pulled back the curtain with a proud, twinkling eye. Over the balcony King's Landing was alive, from here, there was much more to observe than from the nurseries.

"It's-"

"Amazing right? It is the day of rest tomorrow, I used to sneak out on this night" Aegon confessed with a giddy smile.

"I remember celebrating such nights" you shared with a small smile, "my family and I would head to the nearest tavern, unlike most, it was more... family friendly"

"You can guess I never had that. My Mother is too pious, Aemond too serious and then Heleana... well you know Heleana" he chuckled.

"She is a wonderful mother" you complimented.

"If only a better Queen, a better wife, a different woman"

"Do you not love her?" The territory you tread in was dangerous but Aegon relaxed at the question. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment for lifetimes. For someone to ask how he felt.

"Who can love a sister like a wife? It's...", he didn't have to finish.

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen... it is not so bad though, she does not care if I run away to the Street of Silk"

"Would you want someone to care?", you feared there was no coming back from this. You had given the King someone to confide in, would he ever let that go?

"Who knows" he huffed. "What of you? Did he run? Get cold feet before the altar?"

"Something like that, he passed the night before. He had engaged in a scuffle on the road. One punch and his head landed on a rock... he never woke up" Your tone then filled with mourning, despite how you tried to dampen the embers of grief flickering. Every time his face came into your mind you couldn't help it.

"Nothing works out the way we want it to" he huffed, leaning across the balcony. You followed suit, hoping the wind would dry the tears brewing.

"Smallfolk and King's alike" you commented before you clinked your drinks together, never taking your eyes from the kingdom below. "Where would you be now if you could?"

"Essos" he responded in a beat.

"Why Essos?", Aegon didn't even need time to ponder it.

"It is the furthest I could be from this shithole"

You hadn't drunk in a while, the wine had made your lips loose and you couldn't help but giggle at the foul language.

"Why not ride away on your dragon, who could stop you?",

"Have you seen Vhagar? My brother- the cunt that he is- would have me back on that throne before I could step out the Keep"

"Sounds like they need you" I nudged. The contact was sudden and free of thought- impulsive. It was too comfortable but Aegon only shook his bowed head with a smile.

Was this the man who hurt Dyana? Was this lost man truly a King that had caused such suffering? When thinking about it, it was easy to see. So starved of affection, of guidance, master to his whims so easily achieved. None of it was surprising. It was not easily forgotten, not forgiven, but easily understood.

The air changed in moments. Contorted into a silent understanding. You had grasped Aegon's mind in the palm of her hand so easily. He was a man so easily brought to his knees.

"Do you need me?" His tone had shifted so easily, lilting and calm. He sensed the wave that had come upon you.

You shrugged and downed the rest of your wine in two gulps. "I don't need much Aegon"

"Then do you want me?"

You played with the cup in your hand. The dangers of involving yourself like this was insurmountable. Absolutely hysterical. But you allowed yourself to ponder the idea. If you allowed yourself, what would come of it all?

You had not known the touch of a man for years and alone in your cot you slept dreaming of wanting, having the chance to want instead of being chained down by need. And just like you, Aegon stood there needing something to ground him, to offer a chance at respite. He was a broken man and perhaps, you could pay your pain forward.

"As long as you need me, I will stay by your side", the grin that curled at his lips was remarkable, warming your heart too quick to recall how cold it once was.

"Well then!" He clapped as he rose, "You need a refill and cheers to your promotion as my new drinking buddy"

You didn't know what to say, it all happened so fast but the response was spoken before you could catch it, "I would be honoured Aegon"

He raised his cup and handed you another when he returned it to the balcony. No longer were his eyes pitiful but bright and somewhat hopeful. It was a jarring change but one you welcomed nonetheless. At this moment, it felt perhaps something good could come of this. Perhaps, something could be changed.

"To friends found in strange places," he grinned,

"Indeed my King-" you agreed as your cups cheersed, "as long as it is wanted"

Aegon's hand then, once again, found itself in your hair, closer now as his finger twiddled and curled a lock around it. "As long as we want it"

And with that quiet admittance, you raised your eyes to his. Knowing that somehow, two suffering souls had found each other across oceans and chains of being.

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

Another fic I wrote, it was inspired by Three Days by pleasuretoburn on AO3, so kinda credits to them

My apologies for any mistakes, it hasn't been beta'd as I don't have a beta-

Summery- House and Wilsons experience with Oreos, all the way from when they met, to when one left.

Tw- Swearing, character death

You're the cookie, and I'm the cream.

1. september 14th, 1992.

"Are you 100% sure you hung the bear bag high enough? " Wilson asked, opening the pen lid with his mouth and checking stuff off of his checklist.

"My god, you are the most paranoid person I know, yes! I have hung it high enough, " House scoffed, tieing the knot and slapping it for good measure.

"Good! Or I might have to feed you to the bears, " Wilson muttered through the pen lid in his mouth.

House rolled his eyes and snatched Wilsons clipboard, pen and the pen lid from his mouth.

"Hey! We need that! " Wilson argued.

"Stop being a perfectionist and let's actually make it up the mountain, or we'll stay here for the rest of eternity with the bears, " House retorted, chucking the supplies into the tent and grasping Wilsons hand.

House dragged Wilson up the mountain, the latter kicking and desperately trying to get back to camp. House scolded, just grasping harder and walking faster. Then, Wilson finally submitted, trailing behind House, huffing and puffing.

"Don't sulk, come on, have some light in you! " House exclaimed, letting go of Wilsons hand, walking behind his friend and pushing his back up the hill.

Wilson chuckled, walking faster as House pushed him. House smiled genuinely, giving Wilson a last push. Wilson staggered for a moment, quickly regaining his pace and laughing wholeheartedly next to House - who smirked. They both trudged up the mountain, smiling and giggling at each other's silly remarks.

"Look at this! " Wilson called, crouching next a tree and staring in awe.

House sighed and walked over, "can you stop being a horny dog with pheromones for one minute? "

"No it's a beetle! "

House crouched next to Wilson, looking exactly where he was looking.

"All I see is dirt. "

"No, there! See it just moved, " Wilson claimed giddily.

"Oh that tiny thing? It's as small as the guy I bailed out of jail in 1991's dick, " House muttered.

"That guy was me. "

"I'm aware. "

Wilson rolled his eyes and continued hiking, now dragging House.

They made it to the top, thank Lord. It was beautiful. Wilson stared in awe, looking at the colours of the sky blending seamlessly. Oranges, reds and yellows roamed, clouds sprinkled here and there. The sun still blazed, though slowly moving towards the horizon. House and Wilson took a seat on the bench, taking in the immaculate view. Even House was silent, it was truly breathtaking.

Unfortunately for them, they didn't stay long as the sun had almost set. So, they started their journey 2 miles back down the mountain. They laughed and giggled, hands brushing aimlessly and subconsciously. It was like heaven.

"We should do this more often, " Wilson blurted out, smiling.

"How long do you think it would take for us to fuck if we got stranded? " House questioned genuinely.

"2 weeks. "

"Weeks?! "

"Yeah."

"Your horniness is about the same as a teenage boy! "

"Yours is worse! "

"I give it about 2 days. "

"Okay, fine. Deal. "

They continued to walk, casually shoving each other in the process like little kids who just broke up. Until, House got a little carried away.

House stopped. He put his two hands out and completely chucked Wilson into a bush.

A Holly bush.

House covered his mouth quickly. Wilson toppled over the side and into the bush, wincing.

"Jesus House! " Wilson yelled, trying to get up as quickly as possible.

House chuckled, looking at Wilson.

"You're such an- WOAH! " House called out, tripping on a stick and falling straight into the other Holly bush.

Wilson got up and started giggling at House, holding out a hand for the fallen woe. House took it with a grunt and got up.

"You're such an idiot, " Wilson laughed, picking a few bits of Holly off House.

"Thanks, " House grumbled, plucking some off of Wilson.

Soon they made it back to camp without any casualties. Other than their food.

"I literally told you that you didn't hang it high enough! " Wilson shouted, falling to his knees in front of the mess and looking through it.

"My bad, my bad. "

House crouched beside Wilson, "hey look! The grizzly left the Oreos! "

2. september 15th, 1992.

"I can't believe we have to survive off of Oreos for our 30 mile hike, " Wilson grunted, opening the box and taking out a packet. "I don't even like the cookie! "

House chuckled, "I don't like the cream. "

They both trudged until Wilson took an Oreo, twisted it open and handed House the spare cookie. Wilson scrapped off the cream with his teeth, ate it and handed House the other cookie.

"This is how we're gonna survive, " Wilson declared, doing the same with another cookie.

"Fine by me, " House replied through a mouthful of cookie.

And somehow, they did survive, barely, but survived.

3. june 3rd, 1997.

"How do you manage stuff like this? " Wilson groaned, getting out of bed and trudging to the bathroom with the phone held up by his shoulder.

"Can you just come get me, and bring me something, I'm starving. Okay, thanks, bye Wilson! "

And with that, House had hung up the phone. Wilson sighed, splashed his face with water and began putting on suitable clothes. He put on a random polo and sweats, suitable. He staggered to his car, turning it on and driving to the 24h gas station. Once in, he searched the shelves. Though, everything was empty. Wilson furrowed his eyebrows, continuing to scan the shop until his eyes landed on the holy grail. There it was.

A beat up box of Oreos.

Wilson quickly grabbed it and hurried to the check out, managing to not have a chat with the cashier, and heading to the car again. He sped off, hoping in this time period House wouldn't do another stupid thing.

"What food 'ya get? " House asked, digging through the back seat of Wilsons car.

"Oreos, " Wilson replied with a smirk, pulling the box out of nowhere.

House smiled and took them from his friend.

"How'd you even do this? "

"I was tryna find my elementary school to prove a point to Derrick, you know Derrick! Anyway, I didn't prove my point and I was lost. "

Wilson chuckled, took the Oreos and did what they usually did with Oreos.

4. december 25th, 2004.

"Open your gift! " House exclaimed rather enthusiastically, shoving the gift into Wilson.

"I'm Jewish, we don't do gifts? " Wilson questioned, hesitantly taking the box.

"Hanukkah, han-U-kkah, just open it, " House scoffed.

Wilson looked at House suspiciously. He untied the bow, discarding of the ribbon and ripped the paper. He was met with a box of.. You guess it, Oreos. Wilson chuckled with a genuine smile.

"I guess this is Christmas-Hanukkah dinner, huh? "

"Yes, yes indeed it is. "

5. april 30th, 2008.

"Ahh! My husband! " House exclaimed, walking to Wilson and trying to plant a kiss on him.

Wilson placed his hand in between them, "friends, not husbands. "

House pouted.

The team looked confused at them, deciding to shake it off.

"I packed you lunch, by the way. Thought I'd give it to you, " Wilson declared, handing House the brown paper bag.

"Thanks? "

Wilson walked off with a smirk on his face.

House opened the bag to be met with a box of Oreos, obviously. The bag was way to shaped to be leftovers or a sandwich. House laughed and opened the Oreos, collecting the cream in a small Tupperware and scoffing the cookies.

Wilson found a little Tupperware on his desk with a note.

"For you, my wonderful, sappy husband.

Love, Greggy-pooh <3 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

Wilson giggled and took the note off, the Tupperware was filled with cream with dabs of cookie in it.

Let's say, that note had a special place on the fridge.

6. january 4th, 2012.

"I actually ordered off menu, " House declared, looking at Wilson lovingly.

The server presented a plate of just Oreos.

Wilson chuckled lightly, "great."

Wilson took an Oreo, still giggling, House followed suit.

"I did tell you that you didn't hang it high enough, " Wilson laughed.

"I tell you, the bear did untie my knots, smart bear, " House replied.

"Not so smart because it left the Oreos. "

"You survived 30 miles with only white filling, " House chuckled.

"Black stuff is overrated, " Wilson retorted.

They did the usual, definitely getting looks but, they didn't care. It was a nice tradition.

7. september 14th, 2012.

"Found some Oreos in the fridge, randomly, " House yelled, walking into the bedroom where Wilson rested.

"Hmm.. It's a sign, " Wilson grumbled, trying to sit up.

"How about you try your first full Oreo, it's better than that white, sugary stuff, " House remarked.

"No, I like the sugar. " Wilson smiled sadly.

House took a seat next to Wilson, then layed down with him. Wilson huddled into House, placing his head on the latter's chest. House grabbed an Oreo, twisted it open and ate the spare cookie. He handed the other to Wilson - who weakly scrapped the cream off and shakily handed it to House.

"I love you, House. "

"I-.. I love you too. "

Wilson weakly grasped onto Houses hand.

"I'll drag you up the mountain.. I promise. "

"I'll have a checklist.. "

And then there was silence.

[oneatlatime]

Return to Omashu

Fire nation priorities. Yes, there's a war to win, but first! We must make our colonies aesthetically consistent. Couple of gates, some gold trim, and some spiky bits! Can't forget the gold spiky bits!

Fulfilling the beat up Sokka quota this episode is raw sewage.

That sewer trek must have been long. They went in during the day and it's night now.

I spoke too soon! The quota is in fact filled by tribbles.

"it's so awful I'm dying." I get the feeling that Sokka has been waiting years to use that line. I love how quickly everyone in the Gaang supports each others' spontaneous plans. It's a sign of a good team if you can ream off fake names without blinking and fake the plague without being asked. They all work so well together. Zuko could take some lessons from these guys on lying.

Well this episode's going to land differently post-Covid.

Looks like Zuko Jr.'s going to be in this episode. Bummer. Although tweedledee and tweedledum are intriguing. Who'd ever think to give a teenage girl villain a pair of eighty year old poetry twins? One of the great things so far about this show is how they consistently choose to go with the most out-there option and always make it work. In a show about defeating the firelord, they chose to kill the moon for the finale. And it worked. The plot point, not the killing.

So I'm thinking that orange and yellow must be an acknowledged fashion choice among the four nations outside of an airbending context, because of the number of times fire nation guards have looked right at Aang and not seen him. Also I think his tattoos must have selective invisibility.

It's a crying shame that Hot Topic doesn't exist in the Avatar universe, because this May girl just passed their employment interview with flying colours. I'm siding with what I'm guessing is her mom on this one. Just chill for a bit.

Ok maybe don't chill for a bit. Yeah my bad. This is not a good time to chill.

Reusing the same Naruto run shot literally two seconds later.

How many projectiles can you fit in one pair of sleeves? She's got a whole armoury up there.

Seriously I know she's bored and all but no teenage girl should have access to that many weapons. If I'd had access to an armoury when I was a teenager, people absolutely would have died.

So cute. I'll take 12 please.

Every sentence that Zuko Jr. is saying to this pink girl is some kind of veiled insult or threat. I'd adopt Pink Girl's wilful obliviousness too if I had to deal with that.

Smart Bumi. He knows his people and his element. We've seen more than enough times already that something about being an earthbender makes you too stubborn to quit and unable to change plans even when your original plan is obviously not working (looking at you, Fong). So, knowing that his people are unable to change course, he prevents them from entering on to that course in the first place.

And Aang picks up on this too! Actually, since Bumi knew Aang growing up, do you think he picked up the concept of strategic retreat from airbending?

Tribbles to the rescue! Given that these are sewer dwelling creatures, this fake plague might turn real.

I love how casual Sokka is about touching other people.

Every street in Omashu seems to have a couple of bundles of twigs propped up against a wall somewhere. It's probably an animation trick to fill up the background.

Love the one guy really committing to the bit who just flops on the ground.

"Pentapox! I'm pretty sure I've heard of that." Humans are so suggestible.

I love that Flopsy remembers him. Aang's propensity to make friends wherever he goes paying off again. Also, exactly how much metal to the fire nation have access to? They're doing the floor, walls, ceilings, of the whole city. There must be some crazy budget surpluses that need using up.

This baby has an absurd throwing arm.

Machine gun Momo!

This is what happens when you don't feed your lemur AANG.

I know cartoon physics is a thing, but can this baby secretly fly or something?

Poor Momo didn't ask for any of this. Guy just wanted some berries. Now he's getting his tail pulled and bitten (hopefully no teeth yet).

Add absurd grip strength to this baby's list of other superhuman characteristics.

Baby apparently weighs quite a bit too.

Flying lemur unintentionally kidnaps baby. Did not see that coming.

Tiny nitpick: the circus master introduces Zuko jr. as "the firelord's daughter" rather than as Princess Zuko jr. Does she not have a title?

Nope. He's calling her princess now. Maybe there are a bunch of princesses in the fire nation and he was just being specific?

Thus begins the bullying of pink girl. Imagine going to school with a bunch of fire nation noble girls? There must have been casualties.

I love Sokka so much. Expert hug administrator.

"everything so clever. So tricky." Actually the avatar forgot to feed his lemur and it kind of snowballed from there. Hands down one of my favourite tropes is when one side in a conflict assumes their enemies are master manipulators, then we learn that actually they're just failing upwards through shenanigans. Love that.

Poor pink girl. The only viable strategy, both for her own safety and the safety of the whole circus, is appeasement.

"The universe is giving me strong hints that it's time for a career change." No blame cast, no fingers pointed, but also not giving Zuko jr. credit for influencing her. That's some fancy talking.

And now they're reusing the campsite shot too?

Poor Momo. That's about the face I make around babies.

I spoke too soon again. This episode's beat up Sokka quota is actually fulfilled by Katara's backhand. Because apparently it's a cardinal sin to prevent a baby from chewing on a potentially bladed weapon? Priorities girl.

Well that accidental kidnapping had some unintended positive consequences. Don't you love it when problems fix themselves?

She even paints her nails black and wears fingerless gloves. Seriously. Hot Topic. STAT.

"Well, Asula called a little louder." Hell of a lot of information in that sentence.

How long is her neck?

Ego much?

Zhao was an asshole and unpleasant, but at least he had some good banter. Zuko jr. is just mean. I hope I see less of her going forward.

Bumi! Hi Bumi! I love Bumi.

Pink girl's loyalty was tested with burning nets and released beasts. Now May's loyalty is tested with her brother's life. Zuko jr. is so good to her friends.

Why is no one able to recognise Aang? He's dressed like an airbender. The only one of those left is the avatar. It's not that hard.

Pink girl is lucky that Sokka is quite prone to friction.

More wood bundles. I guess it's for scaffolding?

Gotta give it to Zuko jr., she has excellent balance.

May has leg knives as well as arm knives?

And shirt knives. How does she not stab herself every time she sits down? And if this place is so boring, why does she feel the need to carry 8 billion knives?

Love the Appa tail slap. Underrated and underused move.

So Bumi has no spine left.

Facebending. Neat.

Neutral Jing is a neat concept, but I'll be damned if any earthbender we've seen apart from Bumi ever bothers with it.

Suddenly the 100 year gap between Aang and Bumi can no longer be ignored. Bumi is still Aang's friend, but he's got a century of learning and a city to protect. This is kind of a sad moment.

Do May and Zuko have some history? Is that's what's being implied here?

Wouldn't expect any less. I wonder how these two are going to explain the return of their son without painting the resistance in a really good light.

Zuko jr. is spelled with a Z.

Final Thoughts

Zuko Jr. gets a girl squad, the Gaang gets a reason to spend a season gallivanting all over the Earth Kingdom, and the audience gets to see Superslide part 2. A weird mix of establishing groundwork and having fun this episode.

I totally buy that the fire nation guards and governor fell for the plague thing. Anyone remember "that lemur! He's earthbending!" These guys are not smart.

The plague thing did not bother me at all. I thought it would, since the anti-science idiots in the Fortuneteller really annoyed me. I think since the fake plague was treated as a joke the whole way through, and never actually endangered anyone, it didn't bring up Covid memories.

I think Flopsy's pupils are sideways hourglasses, which contributes nicely to his uncanniness.

I think the stuffy that the baby was throwing is the same animal as the beaver bear thing at the circus.

I love Momo the machine gun. I think those are the same berries as the ones Iroh was going to double poison himself with.

Sokka getting to plan the plague and getting to save the day with boomerang was fun. That's two episodes in a row where he's been the plan guy. Katara got to use some of her new and improved waterbending as well, but she was really pushed to the background otherwise.

I think pink Girl, whose name I still haven't caught, is quite good at reading people. I caught more than one 'shallow-on-the-surface-but-actually-way-deep' statement from her. Also she can Vulcan pinch people's bending? I'm guessing it's temporary or else Katara would be really freaking out.

May was just too much. Too overdone. Yes, there are teenage girls like that, but it felt a bit on the nose. Actually, way too much on the nose. I get that she can't show any emotion in front of Zuko jr. for her own safety, but "can I offer you an egg fireflakes in this trying time?" is not exactly an appropriate response to your little brother's disappearance.

I'm still not liking Zuko jr. But I'm someone who never likes the villain anyway, at least not when our heroes are this likeable.

This episode was not easy on Aang. It was an interesting mix of bringing home the reality of the war and the reality of the time passed. Even when he seemingly got to save his friend in the end, he actually didn't because things are more complicated now. He untied the damsel from the railroad track and she tied herself right back on.

Further evidence for my 'entire fire nation is colourblind' theory this episode. Aang was not disguised apart from a hat made from a very incriminating colour. He had a giant blue stripe down the back of his head! Come on!

No Zuko this episode. He was last seen stealing a perfectly nice lady's bird horse, and it'll be a while before I forgive him for that, so good call by the writers to not have him around.

Now that I think about it, there was a lot going on this episode. Sewer break & enter, assassination attempt, fake plague, hostage exchange, water v. knife fight, fire v. air fight, vulcan pinch v. bending fight, Boomerang & bison v. knife fight, earthbending philosophy, girl squad assembly, lemur harassment, and baby restoration. This episode felt long in a good way.

How about, instead of learning the elements, Aang learns pink girl's vulcan pinch and just does that to the fire lord?

[mothgodofchaos]

Frame

I was inspired to write a good ending version to my fic Burn, and I think I've done it.

Actor x GN!Reader, ft. Dark & Wilford, TW: none Words: 730

A century of loneliness can stir something inside your gut when left alone for long enough. Loneliness, regret, rage, a burning desire to change your situation. But you can’t change the past. The deals have been made and the stage was set, starring in the directorial debut of the devil. It wasn’t fair. It still isn’t. 

Mark paces on the floor of the manor, trapped inside with the only breath of fresh air being the puppeteering of the entity within the walls. It speaks into his ears, feeding him lies, mourning, rage, trying to refuel that fire that was burning when he fell into their lap, a perfect puppet for it to enact its misery. But now he’s just a lump of coal, a shell of what he once was, the walls that he now wanders aimlessly a painful reminder of.

He perks up at a knock at the door, waiting to hear the voice of a solicitor, girl scout, or census taker. Waiting for the voice, so he can justify staying hidden in the dark like the monster he’s become should. 

“Mark–?”

Tears came to his eyes as he heard your voice, nearly sprinting to the door to open it, praying that it wasn’t another trick. He tears the door open, looking at you in disbelief. He studies your face, the cracks running deep. A hesitant hand is extended to hold your cheek, but pulls back right before his hand crosses the threshold of the doorway. “Darling…”

You smile up at him, tears in your own eyes as you let out a breath of a laugh. “You’re alive…”

“Yes, I am. I’m here. Come out, Mark. Please. For me.”

“Darling- I– I can’t.”

The fear returns to his eyes as he goes to close the door. But he meets yours again, and keeps his hand on the edge of the door, just looking at you with all of the emotions that have festered over all these years. You know he wants to.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. For everything. I’m doing what I should’ve done that night, staying alone in these walls where I can’t hurt anyone. What I’ve done, it’s unforgivable. I don’t deserve to come out–”

You cut him off, which surprises him.

“Did you think I came alone? How do you think I got out, Mark?” Wilford and Dark step around the corner, standing on either side of you, a hand on each of your shoulders. “We know, Mark. We know it wasn’t your fault.” “Damien-” Mark’s hand almost reaches the doorway again, before retreating back. He’s nearly cowering behind the door at this point. You know his acting skills, but this is far from acting.

“I killed you all that night, you deserve to be angry! To want revenge! I’m a horrible monster who hurt his only friends and love of his life!”

“Oh nonsense, we had- oh dear how long has it been-”

“-a hundred years, Wil-” “-a hundred years to deal with all of those, old sport! We’re here to help you.” The whispers start again, but you can hear them too. The heart of the house nearly beats with the waves of darkness that disappear onto the stoop. Dark makes a face, dismissing the dark smoke that tries to latch onto his foot with a wave of his hand. You all look back up and see Mark surrounded in the smoke, silently afraid. “Mark, beloved, take my hand. We will get you out.” You reach out your hand to him, hanging just within reach.

“No- I can’t- it won’t work-”

“Listen to me, not the house. Take my hand, Mark.”

He hesitates once more before latching onto your hand, and you tug him through the threshold, a film of smoke shattering like glass as he breaks through it. He looks around for a moment, then back at the house. He laughs, almost hysterically, before scooping you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest.

“You came back for me. I’m so sorry, I love you…”

Dark and Wilford surround the two of you, happy to have their friend back. They guide you back to Dark’s car, leaving the dreadful house behind as Mark speaks with an energy he hasn’t known for a century. The backseat as he holds you close is filled with a love he thought he’d never know again.

[zadien]

Writer ask game : 3, 4, 12, 18, 22 :)

I just realised I hadn't answered this and I have some time this evening while my parents are out at my aunt's wake.

3. how you feel about your current WIP

Right now I'm hitting a wall with it so I'm not loving it BUT I love the idea of TIOT. I know it's not something that will appeal to most: it's too slow paced, it's too character centric, there's not a lot of romance so far, but it's something I want to read. I love sports fics, I love exploring all the intricacies of a sport and the team dyanmics and I always like to explore the friendships around the main couple too. So this feeds that need for me.

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

I have two major ones: There's one where Lucy dies on DOD and so Tim goes to North Hollywood and then he dies and as he's dying, Captain Andersen comes to him and offers him the choice - move on to the next place, go back to his friends and family. And then he sees Lucy, completely ignores Andersen's choice and follows her and gets embroiled in a war between good and evil. The other idea is that Lucy, thinking she's on the verge of having that perfect life with Tim where they have kids etc, looks into her biological father's family and ends up finding her maternal grandmother in Ireland and so she goes to visit. Tim freaks out because Lucy has disappeared and no one will tell him where she is, so he eventually tracks her down to Ireland. And this fic is really just for me to set something on the rugged hills and coast of Ireland, where everything is moody and grey and Lucy and Tim hash things out with all the wildness around them.

12. a trope you’re really into right now

Ooh, I don't really know, I guess mutual pining? They're both oblivious idiots? Yeah that's probably what I'm most into writing at the moment. How much of a couple can they be without actually dating. That's always fun for me. 18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

When 'Wilful ignorance served with a handful of churros' was supposed to be 'Obstinacy served with a three course meal', Lucy and Tim had this conversation. It's not massively different from what they do talk about but it's a little more stilted because they're in a restaurant, and not the shop so Tim's more guarded:

“Oh? So you’re telling me you talk about kids with all your potential dates?” “When it starts getting serious I do. When it comes to that kind of thing, you need to be on the same page as soon as possible. It’s important. I’m sorry that Ashely doesn’t want kids, you and her would have cute babies but I’m glad you both had that talk now. It would be much worse down the line.” Just because her words echoed his line of thought and were completely rational didn’t mean he appreciated them. Would a little sympathy kill her? Could she put her degree away for five minutes and just be his friend? Could he have one friend who didn’t lambast him? Pettily, he folded his arms and shot back, “Did you and Chris have that talk?” “Chris and I aren’t dating and actually yes, we did. That’s where the five year plan came up. He wants to be settled in his job and reach partner before he has kids. It’s smart. Being financially stable is a good thing when bringing kids into the world. We’ve seen what happens when people aren’t.” “And you’re willing to wait five years?” She cut him a dry look then shook her head. “No, not just because Chris and I aren’t dating, but because you’re right. If I meet the right person tomorrow, I don’t want to wait. Yes, I want to be financially secure but not enough to plan my life out into blocks.” “Who’s the right person?” A startled look and then Lucy pursed her lips, distracting him for a moment. He looked away, considering pulling the question back but he was curious. He’d been hellbent on Lucy finding the right person, and both Ashley and Angela had asked him who he thought would suit her. He was curious what she wanted.

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

Yes, all the time. I never feel like I'm contributing anything good to the fandom, that I'm annoying people with my writing constantly. Even posting on Tumblr I feel like I'm forcing people to see something they don't want to see, but I've always felt that way.

I never feel my writing is good enough, but I also know that I give everyone else more grace than I give myself. Like a story, even a published story or a TV show can have plot holes and I'll shrug it off, but then be brutally hard on myself when I'm just creating fun stories with my favourite characters for myself and sharing them with others.

So I have to regularly tell myself to get over it and just keep going, to remind myself that these fics are for future me. And that if I don't post them I'll peck at them continuously and never move on to write something else.

It doesn't always work, I do get in my own head, but I also know I'm not alone in feeling that way. I can't give others pep talks if I'm not willing to take my own advice.

[parables-proverbs-pericopes]

I was having coffee with my friend Monday morning. He gets up early, like me, and reads the daily lections.

He mentioned that the readings were “difficult” that morning.

They indicated that women who engaged in extramarital sex are to be stoned to death. With rocks. Thrown by men.

Seems a bit harsh doesn’t it?

The lections went on to state that if a man rapes a woman he is obligated to marry her.

Couldn’t have been too thrilling for the woman who had no choice.

About the sex or the marriage.

I adopted my “pastor mode” and began to pontificate on hermeneutical principles and practices. My insights were less than helpful.

Mostly because they were deceitful.

This may be hard for you to read but…

I don’t believe, for a nanosecond, that God ever intended anyone to be stoned for sexual indiscretion….or anything else for that matter.

I don’t believe that God intended for women to be bound to abusive men or, for that matter, abusive women.

Come to it, I don’t believe that God drowns babies because their parents and grandparents and total strangers play rook, drink beer, or dance - and I don’t believe God drowns babies because “responsible parties” eat bacon or even practice idolatry.

It all revolves, of course, about what you understand The Book to be.

I was raised to understand it as a rule book God gave mortals so we would know how to play the game. (Oversimplification…but not much.)

When that’s the case you find yourself arguing over how many dinosaurs wil fit on a boat rather than how it is that people are seeking a way to understand God…and life…and death.

I was taught that God is holy and powerful and can do what he wants, including drowning babies and killing all the kittens in Jericho.

Which means God clearly doesn’t want to cure cancer, end wars, or feed famine afflicted families.

I was more and more bewildered until I began to see The Book not as a set of rules but more like a travel log.

It is the story of people like me who tried this and then tried that. It is about people like me who thought they knew and discovered they didn’t.

It is about folks on a journey to truth, not about a truth that we are commanded to throw stones.

It is about reading and reflecting and finding out that “I don’t know” is the only response I can give.

Which leaves me with grace.

Just grace.

Because The Book has taught me of people who were seeking God, and quite frequently getting it all wrong, that I am led me to conclude that this glorious, sometimes distressing, ever humbling, occasionally controversial, always adventurous journey is the point.

And in that sense, every word of it is true.

I am not the first one who reached this conclusion.

“You have heard it said…but I say to you.”

And he didn’t say a word about stoning anyone.

Even me.

You know what I mean?

Padre

[lillylvjy]

If you loved me (why’d you leave me)

Summary: where your best friend Wilbur, goes missing and you try to find out where he is

A/n- this is a pile of dog crap. It sucks but it’s something. Um enjoy. If you don’t like it, I understand:) also this is based off of a short story I did in college

Warnings: major character death, bullying mentioned, abuse mentioned, kidnapping, murder, crying, use of Wilbur’s actual name (Gold), and if I missed anything please tell me. This is in an au I made:)

This fic involves heavy topics! If you are uncomfortable with anything in this fic please! Do not read it!

Fucking finally.

After 4 months.

They found him.

4 months ago your best friend Wilbur, went missing and no one knew where he was. Everyone just sat there and said ‘The police will eventually find him, it’s ok’.

Ok?

OK!

Your best friend is missing, and you can say is ‘it’s going to be ok.’ Bullshit.

So with those 4 months, you’ve been collecting as much evidence as you can. From text messages, notes, where he last was seen, everything. Your brother is the detective at the police station so you’re trying your best to help him.

Finally they say, “we think we’ve got him”. Wilbur and his kidnapper.

Kidnapper?

He was taken?!

That information put your mind in a whirlpool.

He was taken?!

Did they feed him?

Is he alright?!

You need to see him!

You need to see your boy. Your partner in crime.

You begged your brother to go with them so you could see Wilbur and see if he’s…… see if he’s gone.

No, no, no! He’s not dead! Wilbur is strong. He made it.

Your brother told you to wait in his office as he rushed out the police station and into a car with the Chief.

The whole time you were shaking. Your thoughts running a million miles per hour.

‘What is taking so long? It’s been 3 hours! They should be back with the culprit by now and Wilbur should be in the hospital, getting a check up.’

Finally, after what felt like forever, your brother and the rest of the team were here. You sprinted out of his office and stood in front of him.

You looked at him, waiting for him to explain that Wilbur was just fine and you could go see him.

But he just stood there. He lifted up a piece of paper with your name on it. You took it and saw it was Wilbur’s hand writing. It looked like he was rushing. Something he didn’t like.

‘Why was he rushing?’ You thought

You opened the paper and saw it was a letter from him. You started reading:

My dearest Y/n,

I know this event might be taking a tole on you. And I know you’re doing your best to look for me, I can feel it. But I didn’t make it love. I wish I could see you one more time before I die but, if this is how it ends. It’s how it ends.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not giving you enough hugs. Not taking you out to see the stars enough. Not taking you out on that date I promised you. I’m sorry for putting you through this. I’m sorry for everything Y/n.

Just know, I’m with you. All of the time. I’m by your side. We’re partners in crime remember? No matter what happens, we stick together. And that’s what we’re gonna do. You’re just gonna have to be the only partner visible.

I love you y/n. I always have. Take care of everyone and yourself for me yeah? And visit me when you can.

Goodbye my dearest.

Love, Wil.

P.S. Take care of Atlantis for me, yeah?

No. No he’s not gone. He’s fucking with me.

You shook your head, in denial, as tears flowed down your rosy cheeks.

“No. He’s not dead. He can’t be dead! It’s Wilbur! He also makes it out! Where is he?” You yelled at your brother.

Your brother shook his head and went to grab your shoulder. You shook your head and ran out the police station.

You ran until your feet and legs gave out. You made it to the spot. The tree. The place Wilbur would take you when things got to hard. The place you would tell Wilbur all the shitty things those girls did and said to you. The place where you felt safe, with him.

You quickly climb up the tree and sat in your spot as you sobbed. You clutched the letter in to your chest as you screamed at the world. Screamed at the person who took away your Wilbur. Screamed at yourself for not thinking faster.

Why did you, of all the people, have to leave me? Why him?!

As you looked at the night sky, you could see it.

The star.

Our star.

Atlantis.

I mean, not the official name but Wilbur promised one day he would get the rights to name the star Atlantis. The city you always wanted to find.

“Wil. I love you. So much. Please don’t leave me.” You said, sobbing as you looked at the star. The star shone brighter than you’ve ever seen it. That made you smile a little.

Maybe Wilbur is there. Or maybe he’s beside you like old times. Wherever he is, you can feel him. He’s with you.

And after all of this, after all this time and pain….. I’m still glad I looked for you. I will always look for you; everyday, in everything I do.

I will look for you. William Gold.

My partner in crime.

Taglist: @deadphantomsociety (if you want to be added, send me a lovely ask or message me:))

[canmom]

seasonal animes: Zom 100/Bucket List of the Dead

watched 5 of the current 6 episodes of Zom100 (I'm watching Zoombie's releases, which have Crunchyroll's translation with better typesetting).

tricky to know what I think...

visually there's nothing to fault - it's got energy and style all over and every episode brings a new crazy impressive sequence, with great choreography to music and inventive staging. that's why I'm watching it, and it consistently delivers! kVin has already written about the strength of the team behind it in great detail. the consistent bright colours of the zombie blood, the use of yellow, the seamless transition between real and abstract - all kick ass.

narratively... it's certainly direct with its themes, but not at all in a bad way, and it's a meaty subject matter for which the whole irreverent take on zombie movies is a fitting metaphor. it won't say it in so many words, but it's clearly about philosophy, finding the 'good life'.

As You Know, the zombies in Romero's movies stood for Consumerism(TM). if the modern world has a deadening, dissociative affect to it, we pull that further, and we get literal walking dead. alongside that is a huge element of wish fulfilment in zombie/post apoc stories: the idea of a reduction to a simpler world, where all the complications of society are stripped back. sure, everyone may die, it's tragic, but the protagonists are given a stage to come into their own as a badass hero type full of Machiavellian virtù.

zom100 doesn't bother with the smokescreen of tragedy, and indeed it uses the contrast between the feelings of of the protag who's getting to live his best life against the backdrop of collapse as a source of comedy. but then it's about poking and prodding at that wish fulfilment, trying to define it more sharply.

our protagonist wasted years at a hyper-exploitative 'black company' but now he's freed, he has to face existential aimlessness; his friend found material and social success but no personal fulfilment and had to conquer his fear to pursue his real dream; the blatant tsundere love-interest girl is too narrowly focused on survival to enjoy her life - each one seems set up to explore some facet of the human condition. the ED shows a fourth member of the MC group, who will presumably explore some other angle of 'how do you live'. if you know how much I like NieR Automata, you can probably imagine that's a theme that's up my street.

so what's the "but"? well it's just so much hetero guy pov lmao. I just... do not connect to the MC, and the show is very heavily structured around providing a stage for him to work out his shit.

for example, it's maybe a little too obvious in introducing characters to demonstrate the theme of the episode, then feeding them to zombies as soon as their purpose is served. the fate of the flight attendants in episode 4 especially bugged me: for our main two boys, the flight attendants are an opportunity to prove their masculinity and sexual prowess (the MC's ability to 'score' is questioned, while it comes effortlessly to his friend). so these girls show up and they hang out; one of the girls has sex with the friend and then promptly dies. the other refuses sex to our protagonist but she talks about her ambitions providing some insight to him and then gets chomped - don't you see, she was reminded of her childhood memories, she had one good day, ah, mono no aware! meanwhile the cynical and slightly arrogant leader of the flight attendant group is the most fun of them all, but she's just zombiebait. the protagonist grieves for all of one minute but then cheers himself up.

and of course you expect characters to die frequently in a zombie story; and the whole point of the show is that the MC's cheerful affect is completely inappropriate for a zombie apocalypse. but the effect of storylines like this is to that it's so manifestly a world of effectively invincible protagonists, where everyone else is basically an NPC. our protagonist will embarrass himself and suffer pratfalls for a joke, but ultimately this is a world that exists to serve him, and he acts like on some level he knows it!

all the same, I'm curious where it will go once it finishes establishing the main cast group.

on a more niche note, it's interesting observing that 'hypercompetent hacker girl in a big coat' is becoming fixated as a love interest pattern. the big coats are cool, so fair enough.

[cornfield-doe]

The problem with Artists today is that we can´t be artists; because we learnt to be emotionally naked for us, and we want to show you our bones, and our veins, our silly little characters and tales. But lullabies for wonderful dreams have become advertising and those forgotten lullabies are now sticky tunes that want you to dream what they want from you, and they want to squeeze your love, and they want to squeeze your pain. The very same love and pain that made you human, that very same love only your friends and family or dog can give you, the very same love there is when a stranger helps you because of our inherent humanity, and that very same pain that comes from love, and that very same pain that you didn´t have to go through to be human.

And that love that they took is no longer love but entertainment, and that entertainment will be squeezed until it´s only content. But you don´t want to be content, whatever you create from, sadness, allienation, hope, or fury, you will keep splashing these feelings onto your art, on a little simple comic strip or the most ambitious animation ever. And the audience will feel love. 

And that pain and love carries within itself hope, and the audience will make fanart, they will do cosplay, they will be inspired and create out of your creation.

But very often they desing these places not to let you love but for them to just react, and some people will love for so little that they won´t realize it was never love in the first place, they will keep searching for love and to feel loved, on an algorythm that will hardly show them your creations. They feel sad and they keep searching craving a pain that they think is caused by love, but the machine keeps dragging them like a dollar to a piggy bank, and in that process love is lost. When this machine gives you an opportunity to show people you have hope it wil be under the condition that you keep feeding it, but you´re still hopeful because love is lost in profit but not in people, and that is why, you will keep working, and working, and pulling all nighters, and you will feel pain, not because of love, but because you´re now a gear working to feed a machine, in their attempt to squeeze the love out of you, they will try to make you stop, with the illusion that they will always be your only hope to be known and spread your love. You must remember love is never lost within you, all they did was make a scratch because they feed on that. Actual love is everlasting, and it´s not exclusively expressed through efimerous cathartic moments.

But we keep feeding machines because they taught us that love should be pain, and that pain i´m working so hard for makes me feel like i´m loving, and it´s a lie.  And they profit from my pain, a pain we were never meant to go through to learn to love, and a love that you don´t have to turn into pain.

And the problem with artists today is that they don´t want us to be artists.

[libidomechanica]

“I grow ashamd to do with slow”

A sonnet sequence

               1

If such disturb the cast together I say, I have frets, like a climb. I grow asham’d to do with slow and once the silence still I ask these feather sad friends, these blue; there left little more would lend her, no; to-morrow: o thou art jealousy, that hole you know not in hidden first begun. Poor pity was as they fail! For shell or ivory pale, cold every line my guilt exalts the smile between galaxies, I can stick a needle through infinite common ruin fall.

               2

Put forth the senses, and chosen few with Love’s antithesis; romance on thy coward. By the rosy flood, or self, seek in love unfit, that love and she passion, the most trying, and in hand, as others that his favour, savour. Doth so red, with a numerous purpose not, write me a kind of twilight legs are in the only we, but this country’s custom’d to see a chant air, the feather; the sense first began. Upon fresh nuptial face affection. Stay, the vows I made.

               3

Or as thou art farre worse then Atlas mightst thou will. Shame within their new opened, and thy many wooden spoons’ of verses rare, and dumb in this bow, he red cross to the wheel of hope and making their clamouring pure bard shall suspect a cowards some children of the last. Resign, forty steps of give, singing is idle young below, and glittering there still and I a man, nor Usury wrung flowers defy, until the Woman is, protections of eternal day.

               4

Let sad mischief flowers of silks were why men in the Lamb, and your wish’d, the odds are like a corsage to beasts seraphs shed in the earth or of what could thing and turning courier doth lie, kind, or some riches,—adagios of islands of year extend a reach in the voice is made! How love a goat in no more; nay, do not go gentle speed. My freedom’—here she feels impossible cloak, An army of all the butler. For memorial hall. Under than you to Love?

               5

She rose conceive. Where are all the dance addeth to foolish work of Fancy, and then season’d his lucky thought, the pale cheer; the sun doth spring down, and hour sharp fangs shall never lives made long expects us in at large pedigree! To say, is before. Even that much misers her veil’s fingers are the night, down to a matrons for the warm young lived a Cyprian flowery meads themselues abused. At hob-nail on tremble round us by thy clear to say just stay!

               6

Would my love, whose glow-worms riot. The bearing of hermit Age might have been the different waited my way. Devouring a man, here them all—the timorously; and let that, wilful and poets, or pin, but one hour! And for future such like the turrets and this thrown upon thy sight; no court for where the Exchanges, of human hear nor seem’d light the dark is right: in secretes its body, laid on a piece of fear nor sees; rolled dry flames refined, but know not we lay?

               7

Over my love a care not Thou there rested: but these pointed plate; these two names for the bends of the sphere, their songs that their loves, and grass, does to tell? For when his heaped with hood-wink’d alike theirs for his discover, left the pieties of refuse her face of colourless fearfully yield; or were getting, from them wet again. But Shakspeare and regions of thee to meet the sacred veil, the love’s banquet was sure the Almighty pen let that wall of mine, to pre-occupy.

               8

Unless you twenty time forbid! The influence of your side lay dying gales the base he had forsooth, sometimes in which your gaudy May-games mee.—And glory from his own chimneys, slipped with something o’er him stand as the will in vain the good ready to confound. I have all it not. The same film over you see, thy nature’s error, that fair stale virgin’s blithe boar, the tree, and the stern, and patron bring is dream of bloody armaments with a smiling chain: strong human heard.

               9

In hand, while I am naked morn, that this mortal vigour whether to languish, and neighbour cause: as feeds on; the kindly sigh’d, and rose’s dye, that quilt … we must began to set in time, may find, tossing them but to my gaze as curving Intellect thy help I would his absent wrong with equal share they return’d a formulated and used a word to the prize reserving Intelligence of love, do not gross mated whereat it is not thy light the hills and gold.

               10

And who when we praying, dying. Though I have lingers are dumb, and to think in strength; a dainties bare weight. Both bring open’d from star being extant while that kind of wurst they are, certain’d the furious meed of am through me ran; and their beamie darts for while Cymon, overjoy’d, something on earth has she had none, nor Jove destroy; nor a ballast, neglect of four kids will venturing, while I don’t come to speak give her had stung him I should run into the nearest disting.

               11

It settled equal light thy letter Death a bit obtuse; at morning, all sorteth life—immortal hands worked not: Cyril said: the grasp at all charms my erring things. On a Saturday in a little or two blue winds which he durst distance, her with his eternal in hasten to he creek joining towards in his torpidly, and pretty bondage in this ivory in a learn, too common Sense. Now had you should nor saw: thou, but now the vale; and I will no fairies to thee?

               12

Ah then, worst, I go, where Venus burning Post its account to leave measured from op’ning out of hope still the boar. Had a christening then, shall now bites the stare: but to use their gifts influence of Prayer in the prize you saw me one should peep; the people never scuttled himself at still I want to praise, once again are hardest fate, love. And then forsake by form, this was to a wet blank, for the stick a needless lustres of fame, wealth to a hundred hollow streets and if thou there death, if she kissed to thinking of her mother, where shed in an old deserts? Stir; a Kate, a Franks, althought to peep in at least of all that’s to subterranean strength yours you’d better, if his hands are gone as she now no fair.

               13

To her sobs do her will be cause her and proffer his body in the epopee, to show thin like spectre huntsman of Chian wine! The glass and rougher hair, did shin’st, as when Greece was never wits impute the brambles at distant to bury that rarest gift to his will be well find, tossed by and Night Movie Theater, yet never read strange? Ere his own arms were he barren breath’d satiety, had spoke, the trots, without not fain would breedeth love you flapper, you kisses sweet weight.

               14

Then singers crumble from all at ever the hall—jenny her face divine; Ask me no more strong, too much admire; as flies, nor would shew thy sharply stories, of five hundred Aristotles bow; oh Thou that speaking hasting in the squat outside, the air is fires to improving, while I sued the father sex’s antithesis; romances Nature to human kind, virtue of an angry brow; before, and knew not whet his line, but haste. If her better pleading his brother.

               15

Beyond expectant, striking brown face her lightly with him in the greensward glassy dark sea-line look ye not what flinch. For cits. Let me be what we have been a bag of individually wrapped its long gold or long to do. Over thighs, forget you mayst with this love never die, and will be fickle Man is thereof to me, as if thou pauses ere the scorn the same key open to such expense, she push, when my life doth endorse his field, and hour and Agamemnon dead.

               16

‘In Iphigene to the Exchange! Whose misery is turned instep roll’d; for stones, and there! The night I have wept till night charms his lakes. Who dote on, not love, not the danger deviseth she, this white flatly falleth down, and the sky. Oceans roll’d; for love than her: the tidal with fire, lean, and lazy lingered its tranquility; the oaken spine at moment wish to the gaudy house no more than white immutabilis’ takes place is your self not there was eating up perfume.

               17

Perverse shoes as she: What is his brutal folds just be prov’d assays, such a fool’s eyes; amaze his own could be thought; then laws to lose, he people never served with a morning is sorrow too awful Beauty set glossy hair waits their tide, being juice, and blood was she did feedeth on to be lovely, lordly creatures of conster prove no two such disdain, your Highness: but whene’er sight I sing, were it rain relenting need of popular applause. To blooming flies, ocean?

               18

She the Phoenix’ breath crept the wooing: and warring purple flowers, whate’er of the fire, as I entreat the wrong it—’tis decorum. For Juliana came, above the summer of the glides alone can imagine of her awakens all circum-crost by cigarettes like Munch’s Scream Fairies to themselues abuse, you of the Spouse prepar’d with sword and laugh, which knows the Doric mother and so tis the key to it. To Cymon still the world revolving coat, my suit?

               19

Look how her makes more there, throughout a germ or a France, her yellow borders done, the gained hand with burn the blood might have what yourself, all it not see what she hand, proportion, gentle into springs around some fine-odour’d tyranny the flags of dyers. Incensed awhile he s author is, but aye there well my coy disdaines which else for decisions freedom to rob thee when thine. I lived, the tempting pots on outward parts a differential to be wise; and you mine.

               20

Swarm at evening his friends, that hour assigned, with my clasping arms, it spreads out of wonderful replies without dear, and given to keep coach-mare in their lutes him with arts. Pledge of this life a last break of other could raise is He not— Continent cannot beg the Susan? Parade: the sad sighs along, O God, as he roots and all in other of his own she died, and look thou lost! Whose an unhallow’d the boy that put one, and needy nothing what name, show me your feature?

               21

She married, on horse, makes me so. These words and echo to the voices of wilding hasty to the meadows fresh-cut hair I dream of great cats close of both crowns and distinguished his many charms my eyes blaze up, and you still in vain—in vain: their hand will, the son and making maid; like mine. That trembling how her by night, all the leaps in the Earth! Chilled torches to my new and there; for the fall from pole; rise in these amiable as they kiss I beg; why then, you, his unkind.

               22

Of your mouths purchase were and Give. She is slain: he long a-gone, saved me a’; but remember yet keep them a sinner. Did she sing for his hand. Exciting auburn curles arm’d, are looked no long we have the king across a wound; so beauty and breath. Rugged the wolf betrayal like a Jade he troop of intendments see. I had my love, am gained. I love the storm because I’ve been clear to grow old? When day and voluntary pains its mother, where the hair of thee die!

               23

Those more is imaginary she may all life in her nails rusting in drove, musing me but dressed, nor shame’s pure golden Fleece his singing bride; and their fork and sold to him, clapping the river-water feet? Anthea laugh’d to other wins, till things and only shore wise; and in every word was so greatness of thee hate flat hills, that is not have done! As the bawd to lose tongue more wretch’s aid, sleep the better equipage: but soon the blame; in Spain, answer all the prick her joy.

               24

Blanche: and there’s a nail, a neighs and knew weeping the gentleness stone. Between them gently heart, but now it is paint em, who cannot stem and favour’d and all in vain adorn my though, soon she shatters Cadmus gave you because was stride: here link’d among them all the greater lanes I wind through whom taken more illumin’d with burn the command his she Death, who seeks to me force subject—let me be copartners milliners of the fasten to the heavenly touch a one as would indeed, in verses rarely master, and late! Fast in fooles mouths to see his blood; in the hills seem no more, and in, frozen trackles, yet no fair displaced, cloves, resort. While I lay; and whispersed theme—he self-loves unlawful.

               25

I’m sure which kept through her licking me in the shade doth borrow; I can drink tears! With gems; her voice kept houses and image on the world’s endeavourite of fiddling, but once condescending with her light the ashes I cried out, embraces mixt without dead at first for the public shame, my death and there bereaves, as apt enough, sweet more hotly overlook’d up a glass. Thus he died through the planting all they do not she heard nor comfort her breast wears that foil’d the fields.

               26

To be of Pasimond his shell show press’d with fragrance ecstatics meant amiss the soul, as no more the sky grew up in Pennsylvania, I met you, unskill’d was ministries of conceive. Let us part. For the mouth bepainted granted of art within, whose rest but she now no more but by her fall sorteth without him, thy outward parts would the deeps—of human share you all presage an infant’s Shambles for thy summer gilds that hole where alone can not evident.

               27

I hear her the deeply disgrace. And now I love so tender heaveth, like a cliff swinging: mercy, pity, but took its wings on a shadow, and laid her licking vessel the one of my hair fall from crowd pursuer, went from dawn to a hundred Aristotles bow; oh Thou that foil’d the morning-glory had been set when I was abandon hope makest fault, it seemed, or as they heart to deserts repairs, and silverware is that. Rebellious head, my fancy which break.

               28

So make your fashioned, and black boy all the blasted in it anew begin to see. And changed, and grown, like Cromwell’s pranks;—but all love, but no less the Vates in, ere will say so, you find then say This port of the heav’nly faces that in your days, supporters one blown below, but in the eyes already sent before to prepared of love their heart of thy wife and raise in one huge hamper altar-piece of youth, so thrive, with her sing then wink of the skidmarks of Samian wine!

               29

Choir whence he had many clouds about her selfe, shall ne’er with this will is fortunes here. And, even so she alone. But hateful ornament of the last he flew into your side, some few who ruled the steep floor—and swelling fool confined. Who shall carry-tale, disdain. Thou talked at once again, when be my disgrace doth she; and night with whom at the right deeds. Reverse. Each learnt hisses; and yet them happy locking up her sight its struck dead fleecy clouds run slow, the lastingly.

               30

Ambushed and pouted boar, not one? And brushed woods! The chain; and tangled her; take twenty thought woman yet, tis being child! But a stain, for which, chorus-like, t is his sight, sweet boy, ere twere garden? Hawaiian- print shirt and blackens in his absent wrong yours, wine, and awe. But this smell to do he knew a beauty liv’d, sun and cats, and worshipp’st at the field, amid the peasant, Slavic and deck the woman plant and glutton dies; it should take so martial gazers, that make a sound.

               31

After him shame your siege from me, stopp’d the commemories, thou not much as always it without delays, like fleeting than prince at a hole, and war without delay, tapping thigh to mine own refusing the fire and round thy bower, may not she in the whetteth still either noble kindest gift to be restrained heav’n I love you to wash them over they’ve been murder’d with constance so dear. All her knee,—the woman yet, now, that thy storms confounded the gift of a son … You!

               32

All swoln with continual kiss her lovely, lordly creature shall my father moved; their fan, to show the drreams my mind’s Eye it is acute. Or moving their strict embrace of the roar that must not to kiss you: having the house with satisfied with lemon, she sees there; I think at least of my hear no more me lie, devotion; but by my revenge the treads against the child, one hurt to snap, do suspense from a darker, and love. Sprung it with the prizes; he hath done and see.

               33

Do not more blest am I that dance, absence about a hundred march, a blushing gleams with only shriek out forgiv’n. Matthew stopped, her tears began to pierc’d, so pierc’d, so pierced the fates woke dreams to sence, none but soon awakens all the wrought and barren bred: the froward hear him; but deep dark night’s gay feast illusion, and go talking of the secret set before art enforced every many rings from room, the day. But we will rebell by Nature is convenient up a life.

               34

Without to me, how which chokes her? Let not ask me no more bard shall stands checking forth my tears some catch my empty teacups, came with your foot we finds missing orphan saw his marine afternoons, to catch her gloomy presence will forgiveness, now present sorrow, sorrowing sport: though the will happiest more thy face with him those vulture thought; I mourns! And you my eye! Look that late hour would pass a not the key. Her loose sound of corn such plain roofs as piety course to move?

               35

Over on the house or each with love inspired: inspired an error, as thought. Bit the matter thigh theys of this man? Their blacks, and faint, their treatise make, for intent flickering orange excuse of his queen the presence of hoof and cheerless flicker, and daisy, salvia lyrata … oh goodbye to creep one minute their classic for his tardy day: by thirsts for speak of other did misses born to our daughter moved by thy censer, put in this Earth when the suit.

               36

While those still is no sin to all these, no fear. Is awful arches to immure heart to overwrought; and senses sore That’s my last, that may all at least grim her sing a cello in Russia, one is but twain. And streets, after line back appeal brooked tushes to chlorophyll, and all that the time for loves, resort. Wise is stuck in his hinder himselfe doth grow. By law of Revenge! To me, their copious fool’d, a case thong from falling Wisdom helpless breaketh from the crown’d.

               37

Feed whereat high deserv’d a Man. Or through better hand by forces. The very face is bliss, eyes were sick herself on a still. With protection at him downe on the gaze, and pray’r; no happiest mornings, and shawl, with her eyes are. And saw but there be, with burnish’d, their better fare; and your silence from your silent all? Are overcome both grace, all we say, but feel this wont to bury him. There dwelt in. There is an added to play Till high tube socks that light agrees.

               38

Nor there his death white, dwarfs and who can passing out for decisions and here, what we meet? Illustrate: he long travelled … to continual hastened next prepare. Through seem with flowers if that is come to the distilling the generous is, which it grew still cave wish withstood at hand straight to sleep, in May, in time and all the people out the flowers like a clouds cover, and asks them all shadow,—truth exact, and prayer-book remove, and still under hid, and hid her breast.

               39

Turning; for the sages may pour out all laws behind louely Paris made mine? And mother, bent foam and never her altar rise, Oh Moon of less than it purposeth; since thee so in the tables, most fresh nuptial face, but must be prov’d a Man. Laughs at chance to that lie in scorn the enter, Cymon shunned then sweet passim. I cannot meet it, despite, bearing Venus’ liking either sugring of the lusteth mutiny each others to Candy with chafing bowls invite.

               40

At these, the wood; for long since swear, get drunk, the floods, and unknown ear against they had left to the humble rug. Ah the brethren of a calendars, do you love, which now a saints, which every word and let me to hide my well-wash’d stool, she, false, and never calling though Nature’s rais’d, even as that swum in the forky light hath taught a loss to kiss? Many women, calling, in all the promise bound these blue- vein’d violet? And nurses; but the woodmen will believeth: she head.

               41

Like the clock nor a bell of the sweet, be rul’d by men; Thou Me fast in Abraham’s bosom rose; these feather the sea is crying the wounding no summer head hope makes your bodies to my tomb. For he alone is your day, and the sharp’st intends to a dragon? Oh look at you a root. The orator too clear to such breath. So how she died—but set thy heart violence, and invisible to spare free; the lamplight, where dwelt, thou, my favorite vow. But hush, somewhat unfounds.

               42

The mathematics. Let us go and fearing; the cry, as, continue groping the briar is sweating red shall I nurse of the welkin volleys outworn, and all the door attendant lords advance, her repose: here link that the faith I have not much commission with such skill in her fates woke dream for what was abandon hope was a time he told men dote; how the allows and fear brings; by the barketh: even of nature of Death my bosom rose; then is fled, the fire.

               43

But the offering, chiefly in her; like Dian clouds common, common one,—and pray’rs I try, shone like a row of morning, and go talking itself to defects, which still, his boisterous purpose not, Lust like vinegar from the tunes race; o Roger still compares the berry break out again. Have thee, and Love is dead surrounding than both withstood avenges; but the pleasures, love, who late did not lov’d ideas, why then the stern wolf doth put on thy princes in passionate word?

               44

Resign, your visit, asks the world’s blame all, yea, this prey, scarce event. Twenty: heavy groan, you’d better all, and then she: tis hard sky limit past thou hit. When love, not to brow like the paraphrase, and forgave the field in. Stood erect and knit the white flesh and bitter cloth to that speech—which now grows to frame; whether of this through he neighbour of inconstancy and if thou art a Theefe, wilt deign to prize, with oyster-shells and quickly told they fight; those sweet boy, ’ she sang:-she wounds.

               45

Than, singing to do. To sweating hit, that may tend our heart. Are laid with a things holy dream—that floated one fairies to the Fire. Snatch its harvest of precious multiple locks hang nodding down, each encumber. Of fair sights he was of our long expect me to death, a votive cast, deprived of joy. For all. Both command his spent a son. Thy registers and least might cry for his vulgar brain being speech to prepare. The heat or cared to me should it have know raspberries.

               46

Betwixt the punisht eyes suing; he bore they be. Of foule rebell by law of Revenge for a hundred maid: but sought, and painting is, that the greatness he had a heartbeat telling eye, which seen, with a numerous to pleased; the same, and, because her lily fires to that on the times, and thick tale, and pine this we gave the isles of refuses treasure dry; but you—two days it’s nothing entertain tops shall pass it; for a story tell; they all her knee,— the world is not the stern. Great danger that have for me I scarce stauncht the four times, the down with stupidly admired, their sofa occupied the ground with herself but Sorrow may be stuff’d or prepared, as Horace fat, or death, was for thy rest, she say?

               47

By this I doe takes that waft a sight blind error, that grows to heart of a pieces. In this mortal work his sorrowing the Ask me no more with the most his heart still is nothing lighted fair will, wishing else he wedded lie! Waters something swords, and deformed the wise; at times would not, or fades, but taxation; the very spright Desire; how the child, his own: there is tying sport: they last spare not the tapers when two part—but the lasses when done, settles to her way.

               48

And cattle thing sweet Love is dying or delay, his fault: the least of a clock on a Saturday in a trick; down to heavenly features confounds. When he stops, and a devil is double bow, and relief; all which would I do, seeing time, measure the day. Stronger than such a nag on, and the choir crime, infrangible and lacking me with Susan’s comforts be gone, and translated phrase only shrieked the wet wind an Asia, and do so, love, you got a frown, O!

               49

Of joy; praising can tell me once again appear before him, he’d die forswore besmears there; lest the moment fell, plunged from below, and would be some bare; her father’s habit she died—but set thy summer’s land, my Mine of full of my hairs to fan and in her eyes, and thee doth burning is spoke, and lass, how often thieves; so do the modern we are not the mare.—But set our help our long expected to her kind; exciting a pilgrim on his break, and save the human kind.

               50

Then since his face, and swell as brightly with love’s the better pleasures, and to joy their kind of the novel, not sleeps, and neighs and moon deceived beyond their future state, how blythely wanted all but one. I change: thy pyramids build a world’s dust, and barren, lean, and much to honors to weep, ev’n thou proportion, frozen trackless stone walls so fair and drink the foul fiends: come by-street to their will reveries parcht; her side so full length people to sport which hapless ennui.

               51

One night I dream of thine may required. Have his descending with hiss you this other wanton, dally, but blessed. The stuff was court, and all earth, in little flood, some talk of your places towards some to his hush’d stools, a circling round then what churlish, or married to the Pacha with people get my poore souls we love. Means, think that solemn day, your grace it over, if not, wish you, if Laura had been a Briton’s, who darest dinner—a day was opened, and place of privilege.

               52

Nor would loved, that I speak give me thought, and all Immortal name! Or their fame destroyer yet the trees all staineth, for my wilfulnesse, as if they make forget not afraid … I am not look up but I and only give to such a passion will be free, and had a coupled in you like papers yellow’d the mount nearer, till with dost review there but never do—tis but throw of Reconciliation of his faults with newer mighty fuss just excuse to Papa.

               53

Even some sneaking and there was vanquished his staring the backwards would rule them, let honours so, to give Perenna’s immemories, let go, and lips with scenes will now by her charms that. Made of poetry left of the night, I find, some her she that tears no the bride her— the storm-blast furnace, you not any. By sure; a woman is not, but my beclowdes, and giue the stops, and by I shall my name force by many times also says, this with ease, and captive grace; and her.

               54

There chiding, the faith red, that grow, while loving splendour; Indian struck athwart their loyal treasure in me do I see; nor the tree, the future beares by thee my meditation. Fill the wits tongue cannot be a dumb in the back across nor fasts its muzzle on a spinning wheel? And were not whitherto thou a womankind’s Eye it is the woodland echo rings because he knew the fire in my cheek was passion labour in deathlike the roofs like mine, and shot a flying so. Treble wrong in the bosom dropping on a shawl, and calendar in one pang of Michelangelo, hands and keep the last to see with thy head grown all thou the Victor of the mind, a Richard, and it posterity.

               55

Cut down from the sun to Heaven to the book, since his stay’d, love liv’d, sun arise from the tender legs I dreams to embraced, cloves, cinnamon, and active prove; no, make certains the shape it plank or weeks, I breathe hid and became to wound timorous cry till wink; so she kiss’d to others overhead and begg’d round, from the work for beast: a peace, like a fish out of passion, Heav’n. The sun, down hectic, a thin reeds by her strength, that thou, whose silk full of fragrance girls long, too with sealed.

               56

The fair and me in the ocean when, thy outward parts. Do you keep the slant of love of only hope still drink coffee, when at his hair- shirt, sewn into two; thrown; each amicable guest. ’Tis a morning he stour, are one descend, from my woe; those Teeth are older. Of drifting tears, and governed love but their queen with buttons for hither. But if thou shoulder, and all night inside you canst not unkind. Baptism, a things that vengeance so fair starts—but be yours, and not any.

               57

State both are think, do all to dressing; what bargains may be comparing to the laws, and hate; since she hears the mud. Thus far the dance to tears, temper ruin’d the heart from his mortals even them; her breath’d he went, its grand in the same film over, and let thee; that eats from the showers. A girl’s bright youth, his ungovern—almost wrecked, so she loved me a’; but light footsteps are ours, Cassandra too well enough if deaf that sweet, like swine torrent on in her; like sluices, signs the pain.

               58

Love’s death, when he hath been forsake, hung half my hair, whose swell as death lodge there shall more savage thee to binds him as if from the sea has the hang nodding blind! To different minds and comes there in thee unripe, yet rather mind; her fates woke dreadful sacrifice: thought: the sea, ere thunder Friends: I go to misses All or rare this choicest virgins hymeneals singing ear, or like brides in one legend to save to pray you; if you every pleas’d, your peculiar grace, the Countrymen.

               59

A girl’s bridal wedge, slow tyrant still one, and humbly own—’tis decorum. His letchery being constantly?—Head inviolate a foe in hope; but stretchednesse tried through of children being spreads against they hurt ye, or would say: I say thy summer’s hair beseech t’ engarland, lastly now she can. Lo, you on the human frailties her face sent out each part do hit, that helpe, most full of flatter white wall, that start up, to do what full of his ungovernes mee.

               60

Their treble wrong mute he seeketh him in crystal teares spread out my sin you, and rising in complete of their star cadencing to no prayers, and now she takes the found methods and least of time, and strangeness of her broad stair, with blind with thee forgot the treads again, but street to the strength people do what would my living joy behind. He flying sails are all so oft have gaz’d; heav’nly harmful love. Nor even so cool shadow, and event; nor blushing him awkwardly.

               61

Some rich reach severe chilled albatross’s white neck long lying the same did our house no more resigns of two Ifs in one maybe, love the depths of her troubled breast such sort of rest. For a string I saw your shrine, god being old; their wisdom, and said so well, and press’d. I seem worth, that having where is tying tear, the Rights of lurid smoke on the sea, the periwinkle train in sadness, she third: Our enemies have sung beginner; pleasure though bettering at the white heat.

               62

For kind of erase? The holding blow: the cause I wonder with her booty sought stretch an unrigged with Susan’s composed wonder of sleep I return’d to see him as for my sighs sought I’d lost its arms, and rave a great wings; alas, why then with otherwhere his wreck in a ragged slow, flicker, and with thieves, lean, and more she mitigated to foe and faith unknowing blowing were not to knows thee quickly gone? I mourning breeze of Time, tells him by the buttock, tender legs are, emblem in the gift of sky where not Everyone in that once to die, he fence in the laughters and outworn, and bride; and her back where, did he put many lamb that waft to view how the woman is thine eyes wounds, who came steals.

               63

Looking, but reliev’d by the dog became to lose, the sea! Me, nor otherwhere I may known them all— the eyes wound wept, he s authority be nearest in: the strong-neck’d steep floor, and melts with all his people to himself is good because and brush tree still frets, the through Time’s tyrant smoke and scorn. On to mine folke bow: of four kind so long we have become sweet love-sick queen, do boast the sun, is not her head we two must be gallants, you and I a man who can people to confirm by the hour alone through the trailed above their autumn’s exuberant bright ascension still wantons with Tyrant with a rude militia swarm than you less. Within the pomp of dreadful to that must confess—I rail’d the prison.

               64

My beauteous bridge, scorched again. Exacts the curling of a genial warmth about superstitioned our heavenly touches rhetoric can live a blanket. And years hence, and cleft the man love; yet never moved with sides he was brought of it, It is the blossom wavering, it light me; which else he hath fed upon the sun and me, the hot encounted to love. Yet, yet must not Woman e’er by precious night. Too were alike when she: tis hardly fair! Me, and green strew’d flow.

               65

Waves roar, and some mistress stood with howling. Silver spring open and there, lo! One in the back of a string, a beautiful in your laws are seeks the vows be term’d a private way, who darest Eye its green many rings her silver snow we plaything else with weight, and his friends. His field, however the creatures haunted but that man hastening; afterwards something, to be born to love you the universe in our and were tape separates whate’er of the sun, down better me.

               66

Might her songsters like this, how have no reasons go. On his their own on your sweet, where tapers, tempering return is good, when love’s antithesis; romancer—I cease to secure of a forehead, majesties appear white gauze baracan that crowd of some on Sunium’s marble short armistice with all that is the lessoned song, in the dying out any love denied. That you murdring them all: not gross refin’d into yourself had done in a half- round his near; to thee, instead of some sleep, in May, in trance of the which makes amain, lust’s wife and Juan were lies lit within my bones are pale; she feeder of pearl and round me like thyself a slaves on they remove; there’s no gentle English the pools that.

               67

’ She cannot proud; how many a time he meadow, and event. On a spinning, ere one minute’s fight, and then to a hard to the Flames, and the true to their head to be pleasured the sky resign, and chances of baked weed but, being chain—it makes me sweet above the stony basest jewel in hasteth mutual murmuring praise, the matin lamp in sackcloth to mine, that rubs its utmost human voice kept alive. In silk inlaid thou well or rare these dear deliverers, asleep, and hell, or a gown, whose smiling a good society. Red grant me your fault was like thoughts and destroy’d, she neighs aloud; it heavenliest in a cold return’d into fonts met in the third glances, sighs dry combustious head.

               68

—But place of herself himself Affection. Doth resolve to blood and beauty join, joints did not the matter will not the china. Without any commission: forget to bow, Tis but twain; be bold Lysimachus, oppress’d with Samian and hour. Nimbly she flies; being palm, or foes, Ormisda stood, not ask, What is hurtling air. Find the nuptial knot, He rose concealed by and with me here breath’d horse, and his body being still at once possessed, and down dead! But now solitaire?

               69

His eyes: to grow asham’d to doat upon me I wonder at having thoughts and yet too plain, and one another woes the name away by love between the Wolf’s Accomplied. Once more of; witness too: I should find a Well of clouds confounded by author is, but Shakspeare’s song we have to fight; where only hopes, is my father’d wings be advis’d; thou drink delicious matter proofe of love still be confirmed and them the sun in flow’d upon the second at an evil gift.

               70

Dry flame, where your own steps of Pleasure: but all hours was the churchyard yew a bloom, lost its arms and ocean, the Ten original Intelligences addest,—I lay awake, it aches to misse. Fondling, to the loved: so Cymon sudden tress, and should burden sticky glass of a heart not measured my lips and quiet as a toothpicks, and set then she seemes but from the same floor, here I forgets to your like a fairy had blooming for pass the means to friend whom partial.

               71

Before the glass to kiss, I’ll smother’s way; each at home to plow; shovel dirt on foot them more informed got, deere kill. To speak as honours so, to whom he critic is from an even as the gift was a Christmas cactus, blooming blush, but you mine.—Why should be no more and cause of nature’s chest—And in her lives are free; be your great close hills. Eyes wood, crept away, like bridal ring, its summoned to attend then left the trees bore; nor long hastily. Rape is spread out with a kiss.

[bestseo01pk]

Best Cat Food in Lahore | A Guide to Top Brands

As pet owners, ensuring our furry friends receive the best nutrition is a priority. In Lahore, a variety of high-quality cat food brands are available, catering to different dietary needs and preferences. Here’s a look at some of the best cat food options you can find at Pet Mart, where we offer delivery services across Pakistan.

1. Fluffy Cat Food

Fluffy Cat Food is known for its nutritious and palatable recipes. Ideal for cats of all ages, this brand focuses on balanced nutrition to keep your feline friend healthy and happy. For more information, check out Fluffy Cat Food.

2. Reflex Cat Food

Reflex Cat Food offers a range of options, including specific formulas for kittens and adult cats. Its ingredients are designed to support overall health and wellness. You can explore more about Reflex Cat Food by visiting Reflex Cat Food.

3. Royal Canin Cat Food

Royal Canin is a trusted name in pet nutrition, providing tailored formulas based on the specific needs of your cat. From indoor cats to breeds like Persian and Maine Coon, Royal Canin has it all. Learn more at Royal Canin Cat Food.

4. Josera Cat Food

Josera offers premium cat food that is rich in nutrients and made from high-quality ingredients. It’s a great option for pet owners looking for specialized diets. You can find out more about Josera Cat Food here.

Best Cat Food in Pakistan

Finding the right cat food can be overwhelming with so many options available. Here are some helpful resources for cat food in Pakistan:

Best Cat Food in Pakistan

Cat Food in Pakistan

Cat Food Near Me

Prices and Availability

If you’re curious about the prices of popular cat food brands, here are links to specific product pages that may interest you:

Reflex Cat Food Price in Pakistan

Fluffy Cat Food Price in Pakistan

Royal Canin Cat Food Price in Pakistan

Conclusion

Choosing the right cat food is crucial for your pet’s health and happiness. In Lahore, Pet Mart provides a wide selection of top brands, ensuring you can find the perfect nutrition for your furry friend. From Fluffy Cat Food to Royal Canin, each brand offers unique benefits tailored to your cat’s needs. With convenient delivery options across Pakistan, you can easily order high-quality cat food from the comfort of your home.

Explore our extensive range of cat food options today:

Fluffy Cat Food

Reflex Cat Food

Royal Canin Cat Food

Josera Cat Food

Don’t forget to check out our resources for the best cat food in Pakistan:

Best Cat Food in Pakistan

Cat Food in Pakistan

Cat Food Near Me

With our guidance and a wide selection of products, you’ll be well-equipped to choose the best cat food for your beloved companion.

FAQs about Cat Food

What are the best brands of cat food available in Pakistan?

You can find a variety of top brands at Pet Mart, including Royal Canin, Hill’s Science Diet, and Acana.

Is grain-free cat food better for my cat?

Many cat owners prefer grain-free options. Explore our selection of Grain-Free Cat Food for healthy choices.

How do I choose the right cat food for my pet?

Consider your cat’s age, health, and preferences. For guidance, check out our article on the Best Cat Food in Pakistan.

Can I feed my cat wet food exclusively?

Wet food can be beneficial, especially for hydration. Explore our variety of Wet Cat Food Options to find what suits your cat.

What should I look for on the cat food label?

Important factors include protein content, ingredient quality, and life stage suitability. Learn more in our Cat Food in Pakistan guide.

How often should I feed my cat?

Feeding schedules can vary. For general guidelines, refer to our resource on Cat Food Near Me.

Are there cat food options for special dietary needs?

Yes, there are specialized diets available. Check out options like Purina One Cat Food for specific health concerns.

What are the best cat treats to complement their diet?

Treats can be a great addition to your cat’s diet. Find the Best Cat Treats that your feline will love.

Is it safe to switch cat food brands?

Transitioning should be done gradually. For tips, refer to our article on Best Cat Food in Pakistan.

Where can I buy cat food online in Pakistan?

You can purchase a wide range of cat food online at Pet Mart, offering convenient delivery options.

[crackerphobiaa]

Please , don't skip

I am so embarrassed, but the sadness I see in my children's eyes when they ask me about the basic life requirements like :food , drinking water, clothes, medicine and a safe house and I can't answer to all their requests.

This enforces me to ask for help from you because these children are innocent .

We had a wonderful life and we aren't beggars but the situation is really getting worse.

My young daughter wakes up at the middle of night shouting because of hunger and we don't have food to feed her because food in markets are little and the prices are ten times than they used to be .

My children lose all their rights during the war and their top priorities now are getting food and looking for safety after they were like butterflies who have their hopes and dreams they wanted to achieve.

Please, help my children to escape from Gaza war to the safety .

You can donate with 20-50$ and that wil make a big difference in saving our lives on this link :https://gofund.me/03d12215 .

Rebblog our pinned post please.

Vetted by:#90-ghost

#dlxxv-vetted-donations

I’ll do what I can for you and your family, my friend, I’m sorry you have to deal with this pain

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

9.6.24 Friday

3:48 pm

Still,have windblow...

Here in Ely's house, still no wifi in the house....Waiting for the repair...

I got in again on Disney Streaming, I was interviewed by Sir Joe.... He told me I'm hired again and I need to text Ms Sasa for the instructions.... I need money and job.... I badly need money and job...

Sir Jay was there but he was busy in his office....Waiting for the instructions.... I hope Ms Sasa can spoon-feed me this time on the instructions....

7:34 pm

Still,have windblow...

I need a job and I got it! Thank God! coz I badly need money... I don't wanna repeat the medical it was just last month... I'm clean...

I really wanna get my cousin-white on my Aunt Ten2x and I wanna know the "Entangle Thing"....I don't know, that is in my head now and I can't let go... I told to my interviwer awhile ago that I have a "forbidden love" it is my about my first cousin and he said if you feel right then it is right... I smiled and said thank you, really? If it feels right then it is right...

9:38 pm

Still, have windblow...

I feel bittetrish and worrying until I can start my work coz I badly need money...

I still wanna do vanity while working on my own and waiting to get my cousin-white back which I don't know when and how... But I know I have angels here...

I have windblow and I hate this trap...Some men on whatever work field now will probably think that I'm lookin' for a bf here, I can't focus on that coz the thought of having my cousin-white is in my head now... I feel hurt and in pain, thinking of that "Entangle Thing". I somehow feel angry that if I can't have him,I wanna kill them all...

I just can't accept the "Entangle Thing" here it is still considered a "cheating"....

Cheating on me...

I still wanna do the "rumour thing"...

I heard the rumour, I heard a rumour that my cousin-white will think of me and will leave whatever he has there and will think of me, never find happiness or they will have tragedy...

I heard the rumour,I heard a rumour that angels will relay these things on them...

They should know these,if the family of my cousin-white will hate me coz of me, getting my cousin-white and planning to kill them all as an event in the universe coz they wil hate me....Then I want some angels to handle this case... But be fair.... They should know everything here... I'm not a traitor on my beloved...

It is still cheating if Aunt Ten2x allow my cousin-white to be married with someone from here aside from me. Most specially if that girl on the picture are confirmed an entangled link from here on me such as somewhere from here, a churchmate or schoolmate or any links from friends or neighbours...

10:24 pm

Still,have windblow...

Awhile ago yeah2x Sir Joe was my interviewer but he shared something that was weird for me,when I heard his answer...

He said that when his father died, he didn't feel any grief, but they were super spoiled... He admitted when his father died, it was hellish for him coz they didn't prepare them to stand.

Then, I asked him, coz I was truly concern as an adult that why he didn't feel any grief at all.... I asked if they had an argument or not in good terms when his father died. He said they were ohkay... But that's a missing piece that I already put a boundaries coz he was my interviewer. But it is alarming...