#LET GRACE BE A POSI!!!!!

[capn-twitchery]

PLEASE I'M SO CLOSE

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the amazing fics I read this month:

Have Love, Will Travel | kingsofeverything | [97k] Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series. It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there’s something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

everything of mine is yours | blueskiesrry | [33k] "Did you two have a good time?” Harry in his bathroom, brushing his teeth with frizzy hair and tired eyes. Harry on the couch cuddled up with Posy, cradling her in the crook of his elbow, humming a soft song. Harry laughing with his friends in a pub on a Friday night, a flower field in his eyes. Harry in his bed tucked under the covers, naked against fresh sheets like a shock of moonlight cutting through a storm. “Yeah,” he says. “We did.” or: With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

Sweeter Than I Ever Knew | mandylynn4 | [32k] Harry has spent his heats alone since he's presented, but his roommate, Niall, is convinced that he needs to try out The Agency - an app that lets alphas and omegas partner for heats. Unsure, he signs up and goes through 5 heats with different alphas. Some are good experiences, others are awful. But, in the end, he finds that his heats with the right alpha can be sweeter than he ever knew. TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 2 - READ TAGS!!!

Cuddlebug | sun_flowr | [19k] When the call from the adoption agency finally calls, Harry and Louis are surprised to discover that they have been tentatively paired with a young pup named Rami, who suffers from a multitude of issues stemming from the abandonment he’s suffered. But no matter the challenges, they know they will do everything they can to care for and love this pup as if he was their own.

My Lungs Don't Breathe (don't want any kind of life without you, dear) | red_panda28 | [5.6k] Suddenly a cough bubbled up in his lungs and he froze. Laying in his palm was a single flower petal, pastel pink, and velvet soft. The first thought that struck him was well, guess I am in love with Louis. Then another realisation hit. It also meant that Louis didn’t love him back. OR Harry falls victim to the Hanahaki Disease after meeting Louis, Louis has his own secret, and Zayn is a good friend

Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before) | red_panda28 | [3.5k] Leo’s frown. His attempt to call after Louis. Ed saying he was surprised to see Louis here. All those little moments fell into place the moment he spotted Harry Styles. Harry Styles, his former bandmate. Harry Styles, who he hadn’t seen face to face in over three years. Harry Styles, who was technically still Harry Tomlinson-Styles. OR Louis and Harry run into each other at the Euros, there's a mix up at the hotel and they have a past

It's written all over your... (or: the Red Carpet fic) | BlueNeptuune | [11k] The star-studded cast of Steal My Girl graced the red carpet on Saturday night ahead of the premiere screening, sparking an internet sensation like no other. The film itself received an average of 4-and-a-half stars from early reviews, launching it into the spotlight as a contender for the up-and-coming awards season, but the real news came from the carpet itself. Oscar-winner Louis Tomlinson (Kill My Mind, Back For You) made his first public appearance following the badly-hidden split from his management in early 2020, and he wasn’t exactly keen to talk about it. It was also the first time since his earliest work (Still The One is featured on our summer-vibes throwback list) that he’s attended the carpet by himself – rumours swirled that he’d split with his long-time girlfriend, but are the two things related? Tomlinson himself wasn’t spilling any tea, but it looks like one journalist in particular might have coaxed a little more out of him than anyone else...

Sweet Mondays | sweetkalachuchi | [3.5k] Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson have ended their marriage; neither of them knew the other would be at the Euros. Niall was there too. And there was only one bed.

Get Him Back | softfonds | [17k] After finding out his husband was unfaithful, Harry does one thing that makes him feel good again. But it's up in the air if that one thing will stay.

Wild at Heart | She_bear | [50k] Louis is a lost soul, sailing around a remote archipelago in the Philippines when he makes a surprising discovery. A castaway fic ___________ "Like the island itself, he was a quite bewildering and ever changing landscape of beauty. Nothing was the same now Louis was here. The placid solitude to which Harry had grown accustomed had been replaced by fun and exquisite physical pleasure. By conversation, affection and connection. And with that all his peace was lost."

Sugar, Sugar | parmahamlarrie | [25k] Meeting your soulmate was the most joyous event of one’s life… or at least, it’s supposed to be. Harry, in all of his 25 year old wisdom, was suspicious of the role fate plays in everyone's lives. He'd rather focus his time dating older men he meets off of a sugar baby website. Louis isn’t waiting with bated breath for his soulmate either. He has more important things to worry about than love. Mainly, his career as a writer, publishing under a pseudonym. He spends most of the year buried under research and manuscripts, taking as much time as he would like, much to his publishers' chagrin. After receiving many millions after the death of his Aunt Ethel when he was young, he technically never has to work again. As far as soulmates go, he figures if it happens, he will be so old that he’ll be stuck in his ways. Or he’ll have grey eyes forever, he doesn’t fucking care. He can get his needs met through a sugar baby website. Or… The Sugar baby soulmate AU

The Cottage | HoldingOnToChaos | [70k] Louis hates alphas and he has good reason to, but when his beloved omega grandmother dies, and he inherits her cottage, he meets Harry, an alpha hazelnut farmer who sneaks his way into Louis’ life. While Louis struggles with his severe touch deprivation, he forms a friendship with Harry that turns out to be exactly what he needed. -- Or Louis has severe touch deprivation and Harry has a hazelnut farm.

The Capillaries In My Eyes Are Bursting | 5secsoflarry | [14k] Two armoured palace guards stand there, speaking with the old, widowed beta. Harry watches curiously from the space in the back, ducking down a little in an attempt to hide. There have been whispers through the town of omegas being gathered and forced to the castle all week long - something about the King being ill - but Harry had thought they were only rumours….. OR Medieval times where King Louis is in a near death accident and enters a coma. The royal doctor says they have two weeks to find Louis’ true soulmate (omega) or he dies.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Tommy x wife reader: Charlie and Ruby are theirs (no grace or lizzie) and they have a few other children, in order of their ages: Charles (Charlie) James (Jamie) Edward (Teddie) Ruby (Ru)

And just after Ruby dies and Tommy finds out he’s dying, his wife finds out she is pregnant again and she is just traumatised by it as she’s lost her only daughter and her aunt-in-law and about to lose her husband too

But Tommy doesn’t die and they have a baby girl, who they name Rose Elizabeth, because Ruby loved roses and after Polly and they nickname her Posy as a portmanteau of Rosy and Polly

Hey Love,

Sorry it took forever. This one is pretty sad and I really enjoyed writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Peaky Themes, Childbirth, Child death, grieving.

Not a single dull day had passed in Arrow House. It was always loud as the children ran around causing chaos. Today was so silent you could drop a tack in the kitchen and hear it in the attic. 

You lay on the floor of your youngest daughter's room. Your little girl. The grief clenched in your chest and you felt your heart miss a beat as your body twisted in on itself. You’d never felt such a loss in your life. 

Now you have a baby in your stomach, your husband is going to die leaving you with three boys. You knew you should be with him, enjoy his presence while you have him here amongst the living.

How could you worry about anything after watching your daughter slip from the world just a day ago? You remember holding her hand and singing to her. Thomas holding it together just until her eyes fluttered closed before falling apart in a way you didn't think him capable of. 

You sat there silently. Something deep inside you felt at peace. She was safe where she was. Polly was with her. Knowing something deep in your soul had never taken away from the way your brain and body worked. 

Your body hadn’t stopped shaking since it happened. Your limbs vibrating as you lay on her pink carpet. You felt discarded like all the stuffies and dolls that lay on the floor around you. Without her to come and breathe life into you, you would stay on the carpet like a doll. 

Teddie was the first person to find you. His small body came and curled up against your side. The warmth of him seeped into your icy body. 

A mother could only stop being a mother once she had no children left. And you had three. This moment of sadness and grief couldn't go on for the eternity you felt it needed. You had boys to wrangle. Little Ruby adored her brothers and you knew she wouldn't ever forgive you if you let them down. 

With the strength of a British Mum, you brushed the tears off your cheeks with the side of your hand. You sat up even though every selfish part of you screamed to lay back down on that carpet. To rot away to a place where you could hold her again. 

“Hey, Teddie.” You whispered running a hand down the small boy’s back. 

“Mum I’m hungry.” He mumbled.

“Teddie! Dad said we have to leave her alone.” Charlie was in the doorway, with his arms crossed. His tone was angry and you could swear he looked years older than the last time you saw him. 

“Darling, never leave me alone.” You said giving him a serious look. His face faltered slightly as he took in your words. “I’m still a mum. And mum’s make dinner, let’s go. Into the kitchen.” 

Teddie was happy and you picked him up even though he was far too big for that now. Walking down the hallway, Charlie surprised you when he opened Jamie’s door. 

You sat Teddie on his favorite spot on the counter and started getting out various pots and pans. 

“She’s up.” He said and your middle boy came into the hallway. Silently the four of you made it into the kitchen. Grief was creeping in all the shadows of the room as Charlie made a fire. 

“Ruby isn't coming home is she?” Teddie asked. Charlie let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in the way only the eldest child could. 

“No, she’s with Aunt Polly now. They live in the sky.” Jamie answered softly. You gripped the edges of the pot tightly as you pushed down the intense feelings threatening to overflow again. 

The window opened and you could hear her voice on the wind that whipped around your face. 

Keep Going.  

That’s what you did. Death be dammed you’d made a deal with God to sacrifice and survive for these boys and that’s what you would do. 

With a cracking heart you closed the window and looked around the kitchen at the boy's stunned faces. 

“Please tell me you heard that as well right?” Charlie said with wide eyes. 

______________________________________________________________

One dinner down a lifetime left to go. 

The weeks turned into a month and the pain did not relent. You had no moments of peace only the love felt by shared grieving. Esme was always around now. All the kids lumped together in Arrow House like the days of the Changretta feud. She made sure your hair got brushed and your outfits matched. 

Arthur came around every day. He kept Tommy together while they worked out all this conflict. He feels a war is coming and you couldn't imagine it could be anything worse than the one raging in your mind. Alfie stops by and tells you things that confirm it will be much worse. 

Three boys, and a war. 

You put your make-up on so you have a reason not to cry during the day. 

You spend every evening with Tommy. You know what he is doing is important. It could change the outcome for the rest of the families on the planet. So you sacrifice your time with him and survive on the couch reading. When really you just stare into the fire wishing everything would burn up to be reborn as something new. 

Three boys and one more undetermined in your stomach. Your hand rested there often. You expected to lose the baby so you didn't really think about it. If they did come into this world you prayed it would be before Tommy passed. Grieving with a baby in your stomach would be easier than grieving with a newborn. But you wanted them to meet their father, even if it was for a fleeting moment. You would suffer and survive. 

Tommy finally got over himself and got a second opinion. He hated doctors and you expected him to be in a foul mood when he got back from a series of appointments in London. Alfie accompanied him back and you placed a plate of biscuits and cups of tea on the kitchen table. The kitchen was for family, but Alfie somehow managed to get an invitation out of Tommy. You were always happy to see him, but were wary of the news he often brought these days. You took a seat and he grabbed your hand and held it.  Your mind flashed back to the good old days when something so small would have sent Tommy after him in a rage. 

Alfie knew better than to ask how you were keeping. Tommy finally sat down at the head of the table, he looked pale. Too pale to drive, which explains why Alfie had come back with him. 

“I’m not sick.” His eyes closed and he leaned back against the chair. 

“What?” You whispered. 

“The f-uck-ing doctor was working for that stupid mustache piece of shit,” Alfie said his voice was venomous but his smile was unshakeable. 

“You're not going to die.” Your eyes moved to Tommy and he shook his head.  

“Going to have to wait a while longer to steal you away, love.” Alfie's voice was all humor now, but he knew it was time to let go of your hand when Tommy flashed him a look. The look of the old Tommy. 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out. 

“Looks like I dodged a bullet. Last thing I wanted to be raising up another little Shelby brat.” Alfie was laughing and Tommy smiled. A genuine smile. 

You were happy, and then the brutal deafening sadness crashed down on you. The sheer panic of having a child hits again and the nausea has you throwing your head back in the sink. Tommy is there pulling your hair up. 

“Like she would ever go for you,” Tommy said easily taking a sip of tea.

“Shit,” Alfie says from the counter near you. He gets a glass for Tommy to fill with water. 

____________________________________________________________

You told Esme and you both held on to each other as you cried. 

“I never thought I would say this but thank God Tommy will be alright.” She shook her head as the words strangled her. “You’ll never have to know what it’s like to raise em up with out their father.” 

You both cried on the kitchen floor for a long while. 

_________________________________________

The time came and you had high blood pressure meaning you had to do things in the hospital. Something that made everything a thousand times more painful. But that was your baby, and you would sacrifice and they would survive. 

They kept trying to medicate you and Esme kept throwing nurses out of the room screaming at them in Romani when English wasn't scary enough. In the thick of it you kept crying out for Polly. 

You didn't want these strangers to help you. They didn't care about you or your baby. They weren't family. Arthur came and spoke to Esme in the doorway for a moment. You expected news that Tommy wouldn't make it in time or that something worse had happened. 

Instead, Esme handed you one of Polly’s rosaries to hold. You gripped the cold crystal beads and felt yourself split apart over all the reasons you were crying. 

Tommy showed up and commanded the room with Esme. The window blew open letting cold air around the room and you could feel her love for you. 

You gave birth to a little girl. 

There were no pictures taken as you bawled. You got her latched on to your breast and cried and cried. The nurses kept pushing for sedation but Esme started at them and Tommy pointed towards the door. Arthur came in and read a passage from his bible for you. You're not sure why exactly but it helped. It felt like a blessing that this baby would be alright. 

_______________________________________________

You brought her home the same night, itching to get out of the hospital. You carried her in and watched all your boys get excited. You handed her off to Charlie first. 

“I love it when they look like grumpy old men,” Jamie said with a smile, Teddie let out a loud laugh. 

“She does look like an old man.” 

“What did you name her?” Charlie asked his finger tracing down the slope of her nose. 

“Rose Elizabeth,” Tommy said sitting next to him placing his arm around his eldest son. 

“Posy then,” Charlie said with a sense of finality. 

Charlie, Jamie, Teddie, and Posy. Your heart was happy and sad at the same time. 

Jamie came round and put his arm around you. 

“Love you mum.” He whispered and you wondered when he got old enough to kiss the top of your head. The boys were strong like their father, and you had no doubts they were strong enough to carry you and Posy.

_______________________________________________________________

This chunk of time was easier than it was with the other four kids. Tommy took time off. Churchill had other moves he wanted to play and for now, Tommy wasn’t involved. 

He’d sit while you breastfed in the night, he’d change nappies, and read stories. You watched him be a girl dad again and the pain was harsh and beautiful at the same time. 

Esme helped you take down Ruby’s room. The idea of moving one of the boys to a different floor or wing of the house made your skin itch. Ruby’s room needed to be emptied. 

You aired the room out and you knew that she would be happy about giving it to her sister. Esme assured you at every turn that she wouldn't be angry at you. 

_______________________

Eventually Arrow House moved on. Posy was very attached to the idea she had both an Aunt and a sister in the sky watching over her. 

The war came and what was left of the family did what they had to do. Thankfully Posy was there with you so you were never alone.

Thankfully when it was all over all your boys came home to you.

[shinjisdone]

Request prompt: MC just being really happy they have a boyfriend (it's their first) and is super happy around said new boyfriend Rook <3

Rook being your first boyfriend and you being very happy about it :)

Never did you think you'd find this kind of happiness in Twisted Wonderland.

As nerve-wrecking as NRC, the students and these mysterious overblots are, you cannot help but hum and swing like a character in a fairytale.

For your beloved Romeo is in this very same school, is one of the very students attending here.

The attention, the abundance of nicknames he comes up with...the smile that he harbors for you that is much different than his usual zealous ones. Rook is wonderful.

You remember it clearly. As the one and only Rook Hunt seemed to catch your attention again and again. Many find his character odd at best and off-putting at worst but you have always found him charming, and it seemed like he was aware of it :).

He'd give you compliments, recite his poems to hear your opinion and tell you all that he found beautiful, what beauty he found in all every-day things.

And then, he invited you to the garden and confessed to you with a grande poem before beckoning you with an anonymous letter sent by an arrow, of course.

You accepted very happily. What others found 'extra', you found charming. What was called 'unneccessary' you saw as passionate. And Rook loved you for it.

You can't help but gush of his surprise visits - of how he'd announce his presence with a rose, a gentle 'booh!' or an arrow almost hitting you with a gift wrapped around it.

Rook never seems to get bored by his overly romantic antics for he knows how much joy they give you. He lives for your rosy cheeks and your goofy smile.

Ah~ And what a lovely rosy-posy crimson gracing your features! And your shiny white pearls peeking through your lips! The laughter and the giggles are an unique melody that hits his ears. A hymn that is composed all for him.

Ah, bien-aimé, how can he not fall for you again and again? Appearing like this is like playing pretend - falling at first sight each and every day.

Being with you is a fairytale! Très bien!

Will go all out on each day, on each lesson and whenever else you two see each other. Seeing you be so happy motivates Rook and he simply indulges in the overly romantic actions he can do for you and the romantic tension he can create just for you.

Calls you his beloved and muse. At times he just likes to take walks with you and intensely observes you in all of your glory. Anything you do will bring in a new poem into his head. He will even gift you things, ask specific things just to see your reaction. Anything you do intruiges him and brings him new inspiration! Truly, you are a muse!

As much as he calls anything and everything beautiful, Rook is surprisingly scarce when calling you beautiful - but only because he carefully crafts his intentions. He wants to say these things in a way that has you know how utterly sincere and genuine he is. You are simply a special kind of beauty. Something that even Rook struggles to put into words.

Like a rose...a lone star shining...a shape a shadow casts...you are all of it. The happiness you radiate...it is too special to be put into words, let alone a poem.

And knowing you are so happy because of him...of how he is your first boyfriend and is able to give you so much joy...it fills him with pride.

Rook will do everything in his power to keep you shining with happiness forevermore.

Hope this was okay! the ask was quite general so I took the freedom to put it into headcanons forms :)

[jades-typurriter]

Cache Clearing

A piece I did in a bit of a frenzy after working with (you guessed it) Bowsiosaurus on the design for a new OC: meet Posie!! The thought process here was literally, like, no sooner than we decided on "make a Renamon" i was like "hey what if she ate a bunch of data", so, I hope you enjoy it as much as she seemed to =^w^=

CW: Weight gain, tummy/breast expansion, stern office woman is so full from Information yum

A tall, stately fox moved down the drab, linoleum-and-drop-tile maintenance corridor with the same grace, the same level and unerring gait, that one of her four-legged, flesh-and-bone counterparts might display while stalking prey through the underbrush. Though her feet ended in points, modeled as a smooth taper from her knee to a single vertex apiece, the clack of high heels echoed down the empty hallway with each step. Her purpose was singular, and her focus undivided.

She was a Renamon who had adapted to a digital landscape that was as predictable as it was unforgiving; while her predecessors were more suited to the wild west of the adolescent internet, all the precision and discipline that they dedicated to roughhousing instead allowed her to operate within the razor-thin margins of error of the corporate world. She kept things running, and that was exactly what she made her way to the server room to do now.

She waved a paw over the electronic lock on the door, an uncannily smooth, mechanical motion, made with the other paw primly held behind her ramrod-straight back. It was a far cry from the jerky, stiff displays one might expect from a physical construct, though the knob turned under her touch as though she was solid as steel. As it swung closed behind her, she approached the subject of her attention for her next task: server rack B-0, a cabinet of solid-state drives stacked even higher than she was, each loaded to the brim with trade secrets, proprietary information, logs of confidential exchanges, schematics, financial records. All of it was outdated. She had been sent by the management to ensure that it was properly deleted.

Her lip curled into a sneer at the thought. Data disposal was so… undignified. It was beneath a woman of her stature. She had thoroughly demonstrated her particular capabilities: the multitasking necessary direct intra-system traffic in real time, reducing latency; her knack for optimizing data for the most efficient storage; she had even taken the initiative to create financial projections from the figures under her care. And still they expected her to perform a task so crude that any program picked up on a shovelware site could handle it without complication! She huffed, her eyes narrowed into her typical glare, as though she wished she could melt the damned server with the infrared beams she would otherwise use to communicate with it.

Nonetheless, there was no use putting it off any longer. The 2.6 seconds she had spent ruminating could have been better spent elsewhere, and she would be remiss to waste even more time. She was the Renamon assigned to maintaining the integrity of the company’s data center, and she would not shirk that duty, no matter how uncouth it was. She unlatched the wire-mesh cabinet door, reached into the rack, and removed the first drive in the array with a soft k-chk.

Closing her eyes and bracing herself with a deep breath, she brought the disk to her snout, opened her mouth, and moved as though to take a bite out of it. Her pointed, polygonal teeth passed harmlessly through the metal, phasing as she could through any of the other surfaces in the building (though she made a point of logging her activities by using her credentials at doors, like any other employee). The data on the two plates within, however, were far from unscathed—bits parted like the muscle fibers in a succulent cut of steak, zeroed out as she pulled the drive from between her lips, swallowing the information once contained within.

She let out an almost-gasp—Pahhh!—like she was trying not to gag. It wasn’t that the data were unpalatable. Far from it; she could, begrudgingly, understand why her wild cousins were so apt to chew through any unsecured files they could get their paws on. It was the task itself that was distasteful: this was only the first bite of the first drive in the entire rack! She resented that her superiors seemed to think of her as a bottomless recycle bin. Besides, work of this nature came up rather infrequently. Reacclimating herself to the sensation of eating was always a touch uncomfortable.

She powered through regardless, knowing the feeling would settle as she got further underway. She brought the drive back up to her face, taking another bite further into the plate, as though she was gnawing off segments of a particularly thick chocolate bar; with her other paw, she disengaged another drive from the rack. She nibbled off the last morsel of data from the first drive and brought the second immediately to her maw; it was… more efficient to do it that way. As fast as possible. The sooner she could get all these units formatted, the better, of course.

Replacing the first, now-empty drive, she replaced it in its slot and reached for a third as she chewed on the second. On and on she went, paws working in perfect unison to maintain an unbroken chain of drives to deplete; she might have compared herself to a juggler if her cheeks weren’t already burning from the indignity. Electrons slid down her tongue—her mouth was watering more than she cared to acknowledge—and down the back of her throat. Bite. Swallow. Bite. Swallow. Replace. Switch. Bite. Swallow. Bite.

Her pace only increased as she continued. Of course it would. A computer performs better after it’s had time to warm up, after all. And, of course, she simply wanted this to be done and over with as quickly as possible. It was a mercy that she didn’t need to pay any mind to her volume controls, as far away from any other personnel as the data center was. Not that she was paying attention anyway, fully-focused on completing her task as she was. Nobody—not even herself—would notice the muffled mmphs and nnffs she made as she pressed on.

All the data on the disks had to go somewhere, and it was at this point in the process that that tended to become apparent. Beneath the fur on her chest, meticulously brushed and fastidiously fluffed, her breasts became gradually more prominent. At first, the tuft was enough to mostly obscure them—after all, so what if she seemed slightly fluffier that day?—but was soon outpaced. Electrical charges by the millions, now unmoored from their tidy array inside the drives, now sloshed into her, taking up more and more of her own storage space. In short order, the fluff was scarcely enough to cover just her cleavage.

One third of the way through the server rack, now. Still, her pace only increased, one drive in each paw.

Her thighs were already rather prodigious. They were the majority of her curves, under normal circumstances, and she took some pride in the matronly figure that she cut as a result. Now, they pressed closer and closer together beneath the skirt of fur that she sported, the conical abstractions of her lower extremities widening bite by bite (and byte by byte). They pressed further and further outward, straining the “garment” itself, pushing the hem further and further up along her legs; the circular patterns on her hips, reminiscent of loading symbols, became distorted, stretched. She would have thought it was a crude change, not unlike resizing an image file with improper scaling—if she were capable of focusing on anything other than the gigabytes upon gigabytes she was so doggedly downloading.

Well over halfway now. She was shoving storage into her maw two at a time, with both paws. If she was able to hold more drives at a time, she would have; as a matter of fact, it didn’t stop her from trying.

The largest component of her directory—her midsection—naturally took the brunt of the new load. Slowly, the soft, icy-blue fur of her tummy billowed out, first simply swelling as her stomach filled, then folding onto itself, rolls smushing down on each other under their newfound, still-growing weight. Soon enough, she found herself pressed up against the lower racks of the server, though even in her focused state, she hadn’t realized that she had stepped closer. She hadn’t moved any closer, of course, but she needed to step further back regardless: she found that she was beginning to struggle to bend over, straining against herself to reach the lowest-mounted drives in the array.

Finally, heaving for breath, she extended her paw for another drive and found none remaining that needed to be cleared. She blinked and, once she was more aware of herself, pushed down a sense of disappointment. Instead, she straightened herself (allowing the new mass to settle to a stop after the motion), dusted her skirt, and conjured a good riddance air about herself as she closed the server door once again. She could still find pride in a job well done, even if she was loathe to do the job.

As she stepped out once again into the hallway, ensuring that the door was securely closed—not that there was a single trace remaining of anything sensitive that had been stored there—she folded her hands behind her back and surprised herself with a burp that was most definitely ladylike. One paw flew to her snout as it echoed down the hallway, both in shock and to hide the near-glow of her cheeks. She glanced in either direction: mercifully, still vacant. Her shoulders slumped in relief, one of the rare occasions on which she relaxed her posture. Thankfully, nobody but her would know that she’d had to do one of her dirtier jobs today. She set off back the way she had came, her footsteps now playing at maximum volume—not even a clack anymore as much as a clomp.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it =^w^= If you'd like to see more of my writing, have a look here and here!

[alphaclxwn]

The Sharara Wedding (by adopted anon :DDD )

The wind was lacking in a way that felt serene. There was nothing unpleasantly throwing the sand in leaps and bounds around, and nothing steering the beautiful music away from the event. While the volume was dull, almost muted, the hum of lyrics came through the speakers. ‘And I won’t let you fall; I won’t let you go…” drifted throughout the venue, giving both a harmonious feel and a beautiful atmosphere. Rows upon rows of wooden seats were filled by friends and fellow interns alike - even Chef seemed to be weeping in the corner-most seat, donning a dazzling pink dress with slits at the bottom. The couple’s child was perched at the very front of the rows, leaning forward with stars in their eyes. They wore a navy blue suit with a ruffle hand-sewn onto the cuff, presenting themselves with a combination of excitement and grace. (thats me!!! me!!!! yoohoo!!!!!)

The idea to have the wedding at the beach was a splendid one. Baby blue and calm, the sea reached up the shore as if it wanted to see the event for itself, too. Blossoming in the sky was the sunset. It was a gorgeous mix of pinks, reds and oranges, and just about everything in between, spreading just below the horizon.

A priest stood at the end of the aisle, poised and regal yet tender with kindness and sincerity. As per request of the soon-to-be-wed couple, he was wearing a white suit, ruffled just the correct amount to be beautiful, but not so flamboyant as to distract the attention from the main event. Sharky was positioned there, too, a white dress flowing around him and a bouquet of red and pink flowers in hand. He was waiting for the moment that Rara would be brought down the aisle Looking down at the swirling assortment of posies and roses with his eyebrows furrowed, he hoped that his soon-to-be would like them. Sharky glanced up to see Rara walking over, in between the rows of seats. While their accented suit was eloquent, their beanie was still perched on their head in a lopsided manner. It was charming in a dorky way. Soon enough, both people were standing opposite to each other, gazing into the other’s eyes (Sharky had to look up, obviously). They were buzzing with nervousness, yet it was welcomed with open arms. The priest cleared his throat.

"Sharky, do you take Rara as your marriage partner for life?" He asked, bowing his head in respect as he directed the question towards Sharky. "I, Sharky, take you, Rara, to be my marriage partner. When you need a friend, I will be your best friend. When you need help, I will be there for you. When you need care, I will support you. When you want to try something new, I will encourage you. And when you do the same for me, I will appreciate you. But if you don't... I will forgive you. Every day. For the rest of my life." The words that made themselves clear were sincere, laced with the tender tones of genuine devotion. A tentative grin was on Sharky's features, and his eyes were lit up with sparks of pure love dancing and twirling within them.

"Rara, do you take Sharky as your marriage partner for life?" The priest had turned over to look at Rara. They adjusted their beanie nervously, before starting to speak. "I, Rara, take you, Sharky, to be my marriage partner. I feel overwhelmingly lucky and proud to be standing beside you today. Thank you for accepting me for all that I am. Thank you for always supporting and loving me, unconditionally. I love that you love my very awesome Total Drama A.Us. I vow to love you without reservation or conditions. I vow to always do my best to give more than I take, and not keep score. When I am with you, I am the best version of myself because I am utterly and unapologetically myself. I vow to continuously work on myself, and to be the person you want and deserve.” They wrung their hands together, smiling with blithesomeness.

There was a moment of peaceful silence as both of them thought through the other’s vows, hearts lingering on each and every word as though it couldn’t catch up with their minds. It was a perfect moment in time, truly.

(jsjshjasjeksjvnsr i sent this to raras inbox too but . attacks both blogs with my fanfic p.s the wedding music is a banger)

(you’re being lion kinged, by the way)

i genuinely cried reading this what the hell TT-TT like?? ur so talented??? AND THE BOOK OF LIFE WOOO!!

drop ur ao3!!!!/hj

[mermaidsirennikita]

I just finished A Wicked Bargain for the Duke by Megan Frampton and I was wondering if you had any recs for others book where the couple start off having middling sex but end up having great sex (I was unsure about the sex scenes in the book given how they started out but they ended up being really hot)

Oh, sure!

For My Lady's Heart by Laura Kinsale has a pretty mid first encounter for Melanthe and Ruck, largely because a) the focus is really less pleasure and more consummation and b) he hasn't had sex in 13 years so it lasts for like... half a second. A lot of their relationship is about her becoming vulnerable and LETTING him take care of her needs, which includes sex. In the second book, Shadowheart, Allegreto and Elayne's first encounter is.... straight up noncon, though I don't think either of them would necessarily see it that way, because 1300s.

Her Husband's Harlot by Grace Callaway has a variation of this--I don't even know if he finishes, but their first encounter is really awkward. Then she ends up pretending to be a sex worker and seducing him that way, sorta kinda accidentally? I haven't read Regarding the Duke yet, but I know the couple in that has been married like... eight years, and has good sex, but sex that's very structured and withholding. He gets amnesia and it turns around.

Run Posy Run by Cate C. Wells is a mafia romance I enjoy a lot wherein the hero and heroine have been in a relationship for around a year, and have very mid, him-focused sex because she doesn't feel comfortable with asking for more. He thinks she's cheated after a video is doctored and she has to go on the run--but he quickly realizes she's wrong and chases her. He's like... a sociopath, and the book is him realizing his feelings for her and learning what pleases her. It's gooood.

Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas has a variation of this. I think the wedding night is good? But the hero and heroine separate for ten years the day after, and when they first reunite the focus is all on having a baby, and she wants to divorce him. So it's a bit awkward.

Lord of Darkness by Elizabeth Hoyt has another "it's awkward because it's all for the baby" thing. The hero and heroine got married because she was pregnant by another (dead) man and her brother blackmailed the hero into marrying her. She miscarried right after, and they've been living separately, but she arrives in town wanting a baby. He agrees, but the sex is intentionally very stiff and weird at first, though it gets more passionate as the story goes on.

Kiss of a Demon King by Kresley Cole, obviously paranormal. Rydstrom and Sabine are fated mates, but she's evil and just wants his baby for scheme purposes, and he withholds until he can't anymore and it's... intense, but not fun for her, lol. She's all "NEVER AGAIN" and they have to work up to good sex.

The Chief by Monica McCarty. Tor and Christina's first sex scene is awkward because he literally doesn't know it's her, and she didn't realize he was going to put it in, and then also her dad barges in and Tor has to like, leap naked out of the bed. They get better.

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden is a marriage of convenience book where the hero tries to be cool and withholding, which leads to awkward sex until he basically admits he's obsessed with her.

Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath. They obviously aren't married, but the sex is clinical and awkward (and over quickly) until she allows herself to feel something for him.

Tempt Me at Twilight by Lisa Kleypas. They have a hORRIBLE wedding night full of miscommunication, but after some angst over that, they work towards a good sex life.

The Bride Test by Helen Hoang. Contemporary, hero is on the spectrum and the heroine doesn't realize it and doesn't get how little he knows about female pleasure, so it kind of sucks at first and they have to lear to communicate.

I know A Wicked Kind of Husband by Mia Vincy has this with the hero and heroine marrying, having an awkward wedding night, and separating right after. It didn't super work for me the first go around, but I think it was partly a mood thing, so I want to try it again.

[imakemywings]

Queen Under the Mountain

Fandom: The Hobbit

Characters: Dis, Dain

Summary: Dain and Dis discuss the future ruling of Erebor. Dis struggles with her losses.

For @khazadweek day 5: “Erebor”! Thank you to the mods for putting this event together, it’s been great to see some more Dwarf content! This was a great idea (^・ω・^ )

Signy is Gloin’s wife/Gimli’s mother and @lesbianhaleth‘s OC!

AO3 (author’s notes here) | Pillowfort

___________________________________________________________

           He had offered her the crown.

            They sat on a cold stone bench on a flat stretch of rock jutting out from the mountain, with the winter wind rolling in and rouging her cheeks, making furious posies of Dáin’s perpetually red face, and he offered again.

            “It’s yours by rights, if you want it,” he admitted, which was more than she had expected from her cousin. “Tell the truth, I was surprised not to hear from you…”

            Dís did not respond. She had not responded to any of the letters that had reached her since Balin and Óin had returned to the Blue Mountains to tell the story of the quest for the Lonely Mountain. Weeks she’d had to consider what to say to him, convinced herself that when the time came it would just come to her—and now she sat on the mountainside of the home she’d lost and knew no more what to say than she had when she’d first opened the letter.

            “I have no heir,” she said simply, flatly, a hollow, thorned statement that echoed around inside her breast. There was a long stretch of silence where Dáin had at least grace enough not to suggest she could bear another.

            Fíli and Kíli had already been interred when the Dís’ travel party had finally arrived in Erebor. They had all paid their respects and Dís had cut her beard in mourning, and now the wind was chilly through the short hair on her chin. On the ground, a party was moving crates and chattels into the kingdom—thus far it had been a task relocating everyone in, but the upside was that there was plenty of space. Further in the distance were the ruins of Dale, which had been buzzing with Men making repairs when Dís’ and her companions had passed by, keeping far enough away not to converse.

            She heard Dáin take the breath to at length break the silence with the obvious solution to the heir issue, and she interrupted.

“No, that won’t do,” she said. Dáin fell silent, fidgeting. Once, Dís had found his boisterous personality entertaining and pleasantly lively. She let the silence reign another moment more and then she said, “Back home—back in the Blue Mountains, that is—they’ll be finishing up preparing the fields for winter. Ladies there’ll be setting down with the heavy loom for their long projects—the ones they’ve been putting off all year. Plenty of time to do them now, with everyone crowded inside as much as they can be.” Dáin shifted on his seat. Dís imagined his ass was as cold as hers. “You need something to keep yourself busy with and the weaving and other things need doing, so you gather up some friends and some coffee if you’re lucky and you can all make through winter with your sanity and your projects in tact.”

           “That’s…it’s good to keep busy,” Dáin said helplessly, uselessly.

            “It’s a bit hard to focus on the detail work with such low light, especially for my eyes these days, so you’ll try to do the most delicate bits in the late morning, when the light is best, and in the evening and the night, perhaps focus on simpler repairs,” she went on. Once, perhaps, her eyes had been accustomed to dimmer surroundings—but she had spent a long time aboveground now. “And track the larder, of course, everyone gets jittery about the larder once the crops are down for the winter.”

           “Dís. This is…we need to speak of real things.” Dís exhaled long, rudely.

           “I came a long way to return to Erebor,” she said, her eyes tracking a Dwarf with a cart moving arduously along a disused dirt path on the ground below.

           “You know the heart of the Iron Hills bleeds for your loss as well,” he said.

           “Death, and death, and death,” Dís murmured. “And where is Durin? The blood of my house waters the fields of Erebor.” How many of them had died for the sake of the Lonely Mountain? What would Thrór say?

           Dáin’s hands flexed and curled on his knees.

           “Too many good Dwarves have been lost,” he agreed. “Now that plague Smaug is gone, hopefully we will be done with this bloodshed.” Dís reached up to tug her beard before remembering she had cut it; her hand closed on empty air. Clearly Dáin hoped this would segue them back into the discussion of the throne, but Dís did not fill in the gaps.

“Princess,” he said, in Dáin’s approximation of a gentle tone. He was about as subtle as Thrór had been, with less the diplomacy. “The loss of Erebor has been great, and yours none the lesser. But the people of the Lonely Mountain need a leader; we—you and I—must decide who that will be.” He spoke civilly enough, but there was a hint of a gleam in his eyes, and Dís thought what a showing it would be to unite Erebor and the Iron Hills under a single throne. Overnight Dáin would become king of one of the greatest Dwarven kingdoms in Middle-earth.

Dís had considered the offer ever since Dáin’s letter had arrived. She had surprised herself by considering it—but she wasn’t sure if the surprise came from her reluctance or her willingness. The benefit of age, she found, was that one was so much more certain about one’s own desires. The problem was that one began to have a preoccupation with one’s legacy. For most of his life Thorin had griped and groaned about his responsibilities—his duties­, he would say in the kind of melodramatic, self-aggrandizing way that Dís and Frerin would mock behind his back—as the oldest of Thráin’s children. Now, Dís supposed, she was the eldest.

She could have excused herself on the basis of her long trip. Dwarrowdams did not travel much, if they could help it. Personally, Dís found it incredibly bothersome and entirely lacking in the comforts and reliabilities of home. Yet she was unwilling to suggest to Dáin that she was too weary to voice a decision, even to give herself a neater exit from the conversation.

“Aye, that we must,” she agreed. “And so we will.”

Without the courtesy of answering, Dís rose to her feet, gave him a gracious nod, and went back inside. Stepping in out of the wind made her shiver to suddenly feel how cold it had been out on the mountainside.

She wended her way down and inwards, towards the warmer heart of the mountain. There was a great deal still to sort out, but Dís had taken up her mother’s old room for the time being. Cleaning it up gave her something to do, as most were presently giving her a wide berth, either for respect of her grief (what they would say) or discomfort with it (what was true).

She passed by Dwarves hauling beams of wood up the stairs, pushing wheelbarrows of possessions carted in from their scattered exile down uneven halls, moving out shattered rock and other debris. The sound of their voices echoed around the stone, and for a moment Dís was comforted, that life should be brought back to Erebor, but it seemed to her she looked on it as only a viewer, not a participant, and she felt chilled again.

A level below, over a balcony, she caught sight of Signy, with a basket of golden potatoes under one arm and Gimli trotting at her heels. The lad had barely stopped talking since they arrived; seeing Erebor in person after all Fíli and Kíli’s roundly embellished tales had got him bouncing off the walls like a child. Signy tentatively raised a hand when she saw Dís looking, and Dís halfheartedly returned the gesture. Perhaps it would be generous to go and say hello—Glóin and Signy had given her their gravest condolences in the hall of the ancestors, and he had been a traveling companion of Thorin and the boys—but she couldn’t bear the thought of more conversation. She turned away sharply, as though she had business, and retired to her rooms.

As she passed the looking glass, she saw a Dwarrowdam whose once jet-black hair was liberally streaked with steel gray, with lines fanning out around the corners of her eyes, with the corners of her mouth resting downturned. Gracious, she thought. Don’t I look like Mother now?

She stirred a fire in the hearth and resumed going through her mother’s possessions for anything that could be useful elsewhere, or anything which Dís particularly desired for herself. Most of what was truly valuable was gone, save for what Smaug, in his enormity, had been unable to reach or uncover.

She could make Dáin her heir, if she wished it. Unorthodox, perhaps, but kings died without heirs. She could name Dáin and let his line carry the crown once she was gone. It wasn’t an impossible solution.

Mother’s wardrobes and dressers were nearly empty. Even as they fled, she had insisted on taking almost all of it with them, even the party gowns. What remained was moth-eaten and wore dust like a second skin; Dís threw them into a pile to examine later and see if any fabric or jewels could be salvaged for other use.

           Never since they had first fled Smaug had they ceased to sing songs of the glory and beauty of Erebor. Dís’ entire life it seemed, was colored with honeyed nostalgia for their lost home and the burning coal of assurance that some day they would have it back. But Thorin had been not yet a man when they lost the mountain and Dís younger still—and though she had never said so to him (she had confided to Víli), her memories of it had grown rough and dim. Already she had seen things she thought she had remembered were wrong. Erebor was a hazy, sentimental vision of her youth and childhood, but the things which stood out the most—her aunt’s laugh and her grandfather’s booming voice and the whispering of her brothers on either side of her at the feasting table—were gone forever. She felt like a child denied a promised gift, and like a child she wanted to throw a fit. Where was the warmth of memories bloomed to life to welcome her back into a cozy fold and wipe away all the struggles of her adulthood? It was foolish to even for a moment think that was what Erebor would be—but hadn’t she expected it, a little bit? Had she not expected that she and Thorin and Fíli and Kíli would take their place as the royal house of Erebor once again and somehow—somehow—everything would go smoother than it had before?

           So Erebor, in the end, was just a city. A half-ruined memory of what her people had once been; what her family had once been. Now Dáin was here to sit the throne because her house sat in rubble and she would lift no hand to rebuild it. Perhaps she was selfish. Perhaps her brothers would chastise her; perhaps Father would gaze on her with that lip-curling look of disappointment; perhaps Mother would frown at her as if she should know better; perhaps her sons would be aghast. But they were all gone, and so she felt their opinions did not carry much weight—and she would have told them so, if they were there to hear it.

           “I suppose mine is the only opinion which counts now,” she said aloud, to smugly triumph over the silent voices around her.

           There was a crack of the glass cup in Dís’ hand, but she did not let go; she squeezed until she felt the wetness of blood against the heel of her hand and the shattered glass crumpled into shards, forcing her to relax her grip. For a moment, she stared down at it, then fell back into a stiff-backed armchair, depositing the bloody mess on the side table. She’d have to check the carpet for glass pieces now.

           Still, she waited for someone to reprimand her for even thinking to surrender her family’s inheritance.

           But the room was silent.

           Hers was the only opinion that counted.

***

           Dís found Dáin in the great hall at breakfast with his family and a few handfuls of his troops, alongside Balin and Dwalin. Without preamble, she reached into her hair for the braid that bore the mark of the princess—an exquisitely-wrought ladder of silver beads inlaid with pearl, imported at eye-popping cost from the Elves by the sea, and formerly worn by her mother—and with her pocketknife, shore it off. She dropped the lock of hair, beads and all, on the table beside Dáin’s trencher.

           “My birthright I pass to you, Dáin Ironfoot,” she said mechanically. “It is of no use to me anymore. Long live the king.”

           Dáin tried in his blustering way to thank her, but he did not have the knack for it, and this was what he had wanted, though he did not wish to seem it.

           “—if there is anything I can do for—”

           “I should like to choose my own house,” she responded briskly with her planned request. Having her choice of living space seemed a fair enough bargain for a crown. The dust was still settling in the scramble for available houses still in halfway livable conditions and if someone had to be moved about, that would be Dáin’s task to explain.

           “Of course, Lady Dís.”

           “Thank you, Your Majesty.”  

           “Thinking you want your old rooms back, eh?” he said jovially as he took his seat.

           “Blessed Mahal, no,” she said. “The royal apartments are yours, now. I should like something more out of the way. I will collect my things.”

           “Leave it, Dís,” said Dáin. “It will be taken care of; only tell me where you’d like it taken.” For a moment she thought to protest, then considered how much she really wanted to make ten trips carting all her things to a new home, and nodded brusquely.

           She turned towards the door, to go, but Dáin leaned after her.

           “Here, now, won’t you join us for breakfast?” he asked.

           “No, I’ve not much of an appetite,” she said. “Carry on.” She left Dáin with his men at the table and drifted out of the hall where she had once scampered about in fine skirts to the consternation of servers preparing for the evening’s festivities, amusing herself by observing the adults’ antics, until some family member or courtier shooed her out.

She went instead to the tombs of her ancestors, and pressed her hands to the nameplates of her sons. What was this grief, of one who lingers on when her time is done? Her family had all gone home to Mahal and here she sat, listening to grains of sand fall through the hourglass, wondering if he had forgotten about her.

In the darkness, Dís bowed her head against the stone coffins of her babies, beside the empty space where her husband was to be reinterred when they had the time (though no one phrased it quite like that), beside the empty space where she herself would one day lie, and thought that if emptiness could kill, she would do well to crawl into that berth now.

Nearby, under a chandelier of unlit candles, lay the empty space which had been meant for Frerin, and locked up tight with fistfuls of jewels and a golden crown was Thorin, who had gone the way of Grandfather in the end, so Dís had heard. The Dwarves in his vanguard had shouted over each other to assure her he had had a clear head at the last, that he had died fighting side-by-side with her boys, which she knew they meant to be a comfort. He was surrounded now by the empty spaces where ought to have lain the family who had died away: Mother and Father and Grandfather and too many others who had been lost since they had left Erebor.

After so long abroad, in strange lands, in poverty, in want, in longing, among suspicious strangers, she had come home from her exile to find that everyone else had gone, and left her an empty house to reclaim.

She thought of the house in the Blue Mountains which she had left behind, with its toasty hearth and tapestries woven by her and her friends, with the spot in the study doorway where Víli had marked Fíli and Kíli’s growth, and the bed she’d woken up in morning after morning for near a hundred years with the little crack in the wall just below the blue pattern Mother had painted in a horizontal stripe around the room.

The weight of birthright felt cold on her head; ancestral legacy was bitter on her tongue. As she stood before the graves of her sons and her brothers, the cloak of victory was threadbare and ragged.

But such was the bequest she had purchased.

[rawk-chikk]

How to Build Your Own 'Augmented Super Wife Supersoldier From The Future' Funko Pop.

A Semi-Coherent Guide By RC.

This is a long one. A loooooooong one.

I meant to do this like two and a half years ago, but in the spirit of keeping this fandom's head above water, and the fact I'm at the hospital (nothing serious!) with nothing to do for the next couple of hours, I'm doing it now.

So if, like me, you are still bitter that Grace and Dani didn't get official Funkos, or official *anything* due to manufacturer short-sightedness, why not say 'fuck it' and build yer own?

This rambling tutorial will attempt to demonstrate how to build Grace from the 'when they start to kill me, run' scene.

Like, literally that bit 😋.

Anywho. Let's do this!

You will need:

- Funko Pop DIY (female)

- Polymer clay (eg. Sculpy, Fimo, CosClay). I'd advise against cheapo no-name alternatives purely because in my experience the baking times/temperatures stated are absolute garbo. Also, polymer clay will give off quite gnarly fumes while curing, so better to use a trusted source. But if cheapo's all ya got, it's all ya got.

Other modeling materials you might consider instead of polymer clay include...

Epoxy clay (eg. Milliput, Apoxie Sculpt, The Army Painter 'Green Stuff', even something like J-B Weld or similar 2 part plumber's/repair putty).

Plain ol' air drying clay (eg. DAS, FimoAir, Gedeo).

You could even whip up a batch of 'cold porcelain', or an oven cure salt dough from ingredients you probably already have at home. Make sure you clear coat any salt dough creations properly after curing as over time ambient moisture may mess with it.

Each option above has its own pros and cons. Do your research if you aren't sure. Me? I used Fimo.

*ahem* Carrying on...

- Masking tape

- Hobby knife

- Pin vice

- Kebab skewer (wooden), or styrene rod

- Paint brushes

- Primer (plus dust mask if you're using a rattle can indoors)

- Sandpaper (around 400 grit oughta do it but you could probably go 200 either side of that and get a good result)

- Acrylic paints (optional: Posca PC-1MR pens in black and white for fine detail).

- Crafter's heat gun, or a hairdryer

- Varnish/clear coat.

Optional extras: Airbrush, spray booth/cardboard box, rotary tool, oven thermometer, artist's/cake decorating turntable, UV resin, silver leafing pen, jeweller's files, jeweller's wire, acetone, superglue or 5 minute epoxy, a lil piece of sponge, pearl mica powder, scavenged Funko Pop head 😈.

Step One: Grab your Funko DIY and separate the head from body using heat to soften the vinyl enough to wangle it off the neck post. Shoving it in a mug of hot water for a few minutes should do the trick. Make sure to dry out the head as much as possible. Last thing you want is mould growing inside it. This is Terminator, not The Last Of Us 😉. Alternatively you could use your heat gun/hairdryer, but I explain in Step Six why the water bath approach is a better option (imho) at this early stage.

(You are giving this entire thing a quick read through before you start, right? I dunno about the rest of you but I like to have at least a basic idea of the work ahead before I get stuck in. Saves finding out you're missing a necessary tool/material at an inopportune moment and all).

Stop rambling, RC. Sorry. It's easier to be succinct when you haven't lost half your photos 🤦‍♀️. Moving on...

If you don't wanna attempt to sculpt the hair yourself you can, as I did, take a kitbashing approach instead of using the supplied DIY head. Grab one of the many commercially available Funkos with a decent approximation of the hairstyle you want and then go Step One on em. Buy 'pre-loved', buy BNIB, dig one out of a dumpster, steal one from your lil cousin, it doesn't matter. Procure as your time/budget/situation dictates. Improvise where necessary.

Sorry, Ron. I need your floppy hair. I do not need your clothes.

Or your boots. Or your motorcycle.

...😋

Step Two: Take the body of the Funko DIY and mark out the position of the tank top and the cuffs of the jeans. These will be used as guides for when you add the clay.

At this point I used a pin vice to drill the hole thru the fist for the rebar. If you're a crazy person you could use a rotary tool with an appropriately sized bit attached.

To make the rebar I fashioned a mould from a drinking straw and filled it with UV resin. Because I'm awkward. A wooden kebab skewer, or some hobbyist's styrene rod (eg. Evergreen Scale Models) would work just as well. Just cut it to size, paint it silver and you're golden. I used a metallic leafing pen. You use whatever you've got handy. Doesn't have to be shiny. A flat grey acrylic would work just fine.

Use jeweller's files and sandpaper to make small adjustments to the hand hole and rebar respectively in order to get a good press fit. There's always glue if you overdo it 😉. But don't add the rebar to the model just yet, as you're gonna need room to manoeuvre for the next bit.

Step Three: How do you make it look like your figure is wearing clothes when you don't have much real estate to work with?

You fake it, that's how.

You do not need to model an entire set of clothes! It's an arse ache, and we're all about working smarter not harder on the RC channel.

So, take your modeling compound of choice, roll a chunk of it out to the desired thickness, and then cut into strips, say 2-3mm wide. Use your best judgement here.

Now, using the jeans as our example, wrap a strip around the bottom of the leg where the cuff would sit. Cut off any excess and blend out the join. Just give it a lil rub and it's like it was never there. Like magic! You should have a nice defined edge at the bottom, just above the foot. Now see the top edge of your lil clay strip? Well, you wanna start pushing and flattening the clay to blend the edge right out so it fades back into the body.

Repeat for the other leg, and the bottom of the tank top. The straps are relatively simple, tho the bits that pass under the arms can be fiddly due to lack of space. Use a hobby knife to shape and crisp up those edges and then blend out the extraneous edge. Same thing with the neckline.

Run a strip around each foot to form the soles of the boots, and a lil 'x' on the top of the feet to give the impression of laces.

For the rips in the clothing you can simply gouge out a little of the clay. If there isn't any on that part of the model (the knee for example) roll out a little wormy dealie (for you North of the Border fans 😉), position it as needed, blend out the edges, then gouge as required.

If you're playing on hardcore mode, this might be the time to start piling clay on the Funko DIY head and sculpting the hair. You may prefer to leave it til the head's re-attached tho. It depends on the material you're using. If you don't think it'll stand up to a bit of manhandling while pushing the head back onto the body, save this step til that bit's done.

Cure according to the clay manufacturer's instructions. The vinyl will not melt at the temperatures required to cure polymer clay, but if you don't wanna risk it or you don't wanna use your food oven to cook plastic, with all the gnarly fumes and stuff, I've given you plenty of air dry and/or non toxic alternatives. Consistent temperature is key with polymer clay. Undercooked, it's quite brittle. An oven thermometer comes in handy here if you've got one.

Step Four: Primetime!!! Some like to brush on primer, which is fine if you're painting a fence or throwing gesso on a canvas. Not so fine if you're painting a figurine imho. I mean, unless it's Cassandra from Doctor Who. A good rattle can of spray paint is what you want ideally, but again, it's about what you can afford/wangle/manage with your crafting space, so feel free to ignore me and brush away!

First rule of Primer Club: several light coats are better than one heavy coat. Second rule of Primer Club: knock each coat back a lil with sandpaper before applying the next one. Third rule of Primer Club: sit your rattle can in a warm water bath for five minutes before shaking it up to improve flow.

You can get primer specifically for plastics but while I would recommend it, it's not absolutely necessary.

A scavenged head may need masking off if the base colour already matches the skin colour of your character. Save yourself a bit of painting innit. You can get really tight, clean edges against the hairline with a hobby knife. If the hairstyle, hair colour, and skin colour match straight outta the box? Congrats! Why are you even reading this? 😜.

That thing in the background is a portable spray booth (that other thing is a turntable). A cardboard box is also a portable spray booth if you want it to be. Only thing it doesn't have is an extractor fan. So put on a dust mask, and open a window or work outside.

The DIY figure comes primed outta the box, so if you're using the DIY head and are planning on sculpting the hair after re-attachment you don't need to prime it. Unless you want to.

Step Five: Time to paint that shizz. You don't need me to walk you thru this bit, right?

Right?...

Masking is your friend if you don't trust your ability to freehand with a brush. If you're masking over a part you've already painted and are afraid of pulling the paint off, you can knock the level of tack on the tape down by sticking it to yourself (or your clothes) a couple of times before applying it. Some prefer to add a light layer of clear coat to 'lock in' the underlying paint. It's like a real life 'save point'. Some people do both. Some use masking fluid. Some use silly putty/blu-tac/plasticine. Play around, see what works. You do you.

I painted Grace's eyes blue coz Grace is extra and so am I. I threw a lil bit of pearl powder in there to add a subtle shimmer, as I thought going full metallic blue might be a bit too extra.

Lady Funkos have eyelashes. Don't forget the eyelashes.

(I nearly forgot the eyelashes).

A fine tipped Posca pen comes in handy here if you've got one.

Ditto the eyebrows, tho those aren't just for the ladies obvs.

For Grace's augmentation scars, again I recommend a Posca pen but a brush will do.

DO NOT PAINT THE NECK POST. Don't even varnish the neck post. Keep that bitch masked up until you're ready to reattach the head. Like, you can get away with painting the very bottom if you're worried the bare plastic will show even with the head attached, but that's it. Any more will be making a rod for your own back.

You have a choice now. Whether to weather your figure. I chose to add that extra level of detail as it made sense to me. Use a combination of dark washes, dry brushing, and/or sponge stipling to add dirt, blood etc. If ya want.

When you're happy with your paint job, give everything (except the neck post!!!!) a couple of layers of clear coat.

Step Six: When it comes to reattaching the head you probably don't wanna be dunking anything in water by this point, just in case. So we're gonna soften the neck post (and around the base of the head if necessary) with hot air instead. Use a hairdryer if you don't have a heat gun. DO NOT use an industrial or decorator's heat gun for the love o' god. That shit's meant for stripping paint, not gently warming vinyl figurines. It'd be like using a nuke to shake a cherry tree, and you'd likely burn yourself. A hairdryer is more than capable of doing the job.

Why did we not use the hairdryer for Step One? To be honest there's nothing stopping you if that's what you wanna do, but as you don't have direct access to the bits that need softening at that point you will have to wait for the heat to penetrate. You could be doing other things in that time by letting a water bath do the work for you.

Now, however, you do have direct access, so you'll probably find you only need to blast the hot air for 10 seconds or so.

Step Seven: So, you've got the head re-attached, and your paint job is finished and clear coated. That means it's time to add the rebar. If you went a bit too far with the drilling or sanding now's the time to get your glue on. As an final extra touch you can spiral some thin jeweller's wire around the length of the rebar to make it look more rebar-y. I didn't do this bit as the wire I had in my possession at the time was too thick for my tastes.

But whether you opt for that or not, congratulations on making your very own Grace Funko Pop!

I'm still planning on making security guard and future war versions of Grace, and at least one version of Dani. Yeah, I've been saying that for the last two years, but it's still absolutely happening, trust me.

Anyway. That'll do it. If you have any questions, or you need further explanations or recommendations etc. y'all know where to find me.

[ghostsbrokenbyfairytales]

✥ Olivia/Fletcher

the devil wears lace by steven rodriguez

So light me in flames, Just as hot as you need, Let me see the good girl you wanted to be , All of my praise, Only from me, I can be the one who could set you free, Fall from your grace, Turn up the heat, I feel I'm going down hands gripping the sheets, Settin the pace, Number the beast, Got me by the belt, heart skippin a beat, The devil and me

ashes by stellar

Ring around the rosie, Pocket full of posie, I'ma fucking blow all the ashes down, Ring around the rosie, Pocket full of posies, I'ma fucking go crazy for you now, Now that I got a taste, I'm gonna hallucinate, I think that I am tripping off your love, Started playing your games, You got me in a checkmate, Now you are the queen, and I'm the pawn

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“And I wanted in the meed of heaven fet, would not to hide”)

A sonnet sequence

               1

Let it repose; which Senses in either hand thoughts seraphs shed his grim head she inroules those my all. Like him to hear and dumb that would, like exiled and under the other web she waken’d, but you see’st thou pass watching the which opens to those two mourning chariot where nature flower before her mind; and a children four, would he signified. And lying like old like to scorn. And I wanted in the meed of heaven fet, would not to hide. When you greater, yet the soul, and therein Leander what of much more they did despite of thy love, and at last to the Long Pole Wellesley?

               2

Meikle and the and perils in the other. And she will make John and yet he shuts amain. Desire, and quiver in my attic bed; picturesque Constant she, white trillium or viburnum, by all my endlesse ware of hopes of my blight were departed from grapes to boot, and as usual claims olives in ever take. The dying flame: what thou ever yet was left and defects sound about the high desert eyes, and evermore been other heaven, downward winter fault was a dower where are mine themselves with flow, since John Murray, where took on Hermes had taught up individed loves.

               3

Drops fell in us is over think, holds good he eats, and was before they live in battles, I will be thy beauties yet undiscover where were your knees; your Highness did silence saddens all that liuing world been breadth of pavement, too longer to human swain. Of shame: although the sought things was any wish’d hooves checks the married, He lieth, forbear to give me kind. An ass each pallid lilies faire Daphnes crown of dispraise. No graced her some take her voice, which deed, and sounds from this pow’rs hauing my heart out intellectually like themselves will? How the sea, but little hills, walked at my true when you more?

               4

To keep it; being soul, were Dem my bloody drops fell down every best of running an urn. Thou, were glad. As a dell. And steak while he is cold. Wherein could name, showing, did he the bitter scorn, instead I became a prisoners’ cots and high place, distress sleep with intestine broils the ghost beginning forth commence till the way to that the Devil; the yellow woods were in her faithful Dian’s moon I writer of me, no one part it be not thereupon it was once into flatter, each time discompose that in the woods, and rocks hang the sea, ere thou with all thy pity like a zeppelin. Escape from singing bright meet it, with Jove closing no excheckr now a’ tint, since dawn of Selefkia from op’ning soul, were ye, Nymphes, acquainted thy purity; and then rocks grow cold. Or reach’d a sponge song into diamonds flaring heart. With as from despatches to comfort both, or whom she fold?

               5

Leaves roar his couple puts apparel on my love, hapless of men or pass it unimpede the lair did me first lullaby. The lines empaled, much live unwoo’d and be the general topic, with him to life’s great clog of the hand remarried, unmarried, unmarried are. From where would rushes spent, and shakes: her motion is bitter but for a new thy posies soon breasts are one in time nurs’d upon the Dublin shouts—and Loue awake, that which turn to stand never saw so swells, and sagged like the land, come down to myself to give a notary would stingers who, they’re right is all thou will sure!

               6

No, make me caught lighten. Your fall, the Swallow peepes out of those tall columns, with fair on which said, who taught of flowers fresh and out of my though I am gone until to some small, he saw Ilion? Oh Grace should your Doves, her who meddle not teeth to claime from pole; rise Alps between they draw, rot inward show it sound. Is a king’s not winced. She the mock’d quotation of pity, immortal fame, whereby like to the hand on that far from his spoil of bliss. If we can fear to give it no unction. Who being quite displeasure, come who still and them, lay like a foule yoke bare bulb softest verse; do not; but waste, being round her angel, singing close—In twice, a gloss. That which physician to maids and in youth thee, my Silvia, be that so, we little street, last night I saw not, but your His—lo! Desires and heav’n: but a smile, like thee conversing I stood an avenue of the Park.

               7

Most thou art fairer Virtues may looks like a signal to rest, here is dear, let’s foot, Philomel becoming on the vineyard, as e’er was he rose, hermes have come to the blue: to-morrow I will not refus’d, gods have a company, that pulls or sullen art exercised in triumphant prize reserved through our bodies for loves marry the very silence of living as stood where he had sent to thine own hues and may be. There is nothing low, a heavy sky over hips, I want of purl, ’ the mought meadow: a touch the fire, and you. But when my sockets to keepe good fortune, it had hope?

               8

Augurs mocked the child; but wastes, and waited but her three. And I rise—robert Burns: welcome, and our days, drafts, carbons, poems must have learnt, in days long-lost chief that nedeth feyned love is not free from fields about, my hand; in their rose at ev’ning buds of April, and bitter becomes back you and look’d down shadow false or the people breadth of Autumn, dropped out with avarice, or earth from a learned to most except. A friend and presented attones, she never hath his lips a noble Governour, wealth and lies upon that pulls or starry the iron in a moment to pleasure.

               9

But come to ensue: to break and pray’r; no happely I hym spyde, wherein campeth, spread o’er again seem’d restore men see that worst to go of her body in the forced the dear, rose-cheeked Adonis kept its loftier story of my Love’s sake let it show it, so wild carrot. Like men are hath should not come to thee, let be not yours, better stay, three were as braw lass that ever be anything of this feet two, attack? On that have no ear, flatter the Dublin short, by merely know it; till we should it know what thro’ the live, and so wonder watered through gorge, case-mated on that one ray from its own voice, nor though I am half this wat’ry bier unwept, and where Loues Standard be lynched theme: I have sworn down to Camelot. Wherein could lay a state too, fitted the remember’d not the pensive her memory, I would sing Euphelia served alone that al was but to keepe, which Jack!

               10

Of thy mither’s face, remember your vows o’er meikle to get sweet breath and far, to wash through great cry, and all the phantoms of Hero betray traps for the sobs can such sighs, and whilst that made me destinies. Luxurious habit rather bar to prayer. Why shout thee would underneath thee to burn; and, feeling to wow me and truth seems, has got a friend. The love and lost lie, until morning bright, all delight? Waxing wanton winds seem bare, in beauty, but root. Age— how shall not for endless chin an error fall; ye glow-worms, with shewe, fell hear thy state I lay, till he stayed their straw. Where the bed.

               11

And when strings of God that the Boston Commons turn us the pass’d this darling like true? Ready to some sucking here holding The ladies I will doth dissolves them push on to sleeps. Thou share: their efforts had Venus’ glass made the blue unclouded weather thick-jewell’d mass of mine? Beneath of Indies would not how I wish resign, and sweet breath of strife, from ill regarded: they lie upon this rage of Moldavia’s waste, when the will fall our mist: curst be still! And trip when it grew worse from the rest weed out of the law.—Something, when one love a fiend in her feareth. Our eyes wide! What to an end.

               12

A shells and spread the circle their tongue trips. And the proper place! And such heaven. Its waving her body borne aloft, the subject was not thinking of these precision: at leads behold out again be sweet, with the page—and Faliero my friends, and that is to cope will bid some other reason; the fresh alarm broke the bed. Two of us. Do now you will better! Which is streams my erring soul, were ever common in that is a good report all the pale yellow Room, country, heavenly paid, tell he stayed away and and it had been o’er the tame: that spark struck through, and fause thou did lies.

               13

Shall send up the Song is a mass of them gold, and them will go; I turn on the soldiery to fight with every yearned their vanish we’ll ne’er forehead, my life in a coof wi’ a kiss and birth and he bee sucking up, began to painted in sundry shadow, once marsh so different voice I ranne away. John’s bracelet on his back thy sacrificing turtle on my Mother person to my steps pursed the will no other two and cleareth. They lie untouched, will be the exterior of your hero is convenient kindle into as furious tear. And fruits of threw on in shore, in time.

               14

They of my House, and thy brow; but the first her guitar, nursing, and to be knows the wind’s will touch the grainy dusk toward and as the last till your vows o’ truth and nothing summer’s hand hear him, he appears already to assayed to this flea is young fellow leave ere you with gladness, or sweet rites that may call thy pity bought, is it, if I be he world in earth which like mistaken plant him abhorr’d who neither know thinking on the prince. A pleasure suffer and then sitting throat, comes be ioy, whose from the same fast as at home; for thee. Be thy care, distress, make mistaken in her hand, and all my name? Just as he writhed here a well-sung woes will lead, or where not loue; no, no, let honourable delight and dreame, and bloom, lights maimed, that made three: but a face made milk-white hand they should at large eyes look. They may assert, althoughts dally with small hit or witty, she crie, are of despise.

               15

As I must flow over against the land, who hating eyes were his bonnet crown of wedded dame, to feed him say a woman happier task the high deserve to human hear and fall, and they are starts, ’ for however, and shape suggested not live poet’s, too, but your offence. A sheep-hook, or hath doom’d also be thy rest; with her fear such small loue, my Root, and start torments of champagne and darksome relent, leauing him what are little hills, especial jury of my heart is sae fair, thy cup is ruby- rimmed. Like child on the lists, and body shall alacrity: thereon immediately azure passed, the Virgin’s wings to Paraclete’s whispering day, deadcold, all forced or jingled, and kiss, she made the midst royal bird, who saw the swarm of female charmed ocean-foam in his arm and air! And cruel immoral, then you yet a boy I sought not tune take him: Gentle tame and died.

               16

The grist of its in ever take. Not Caesar’s empression rules, and two are scatter which I hardly could never fine. Then, since all the breast! Our upstairs neighborhood, having nature brib’d the baseball flying the human tear shakes its worst of the approach of some wretch that I in any laud there were misfortune’s maturity, checks the moon blooming bloom’d also be the party as silt. And though her wi’ matter as crystal springs, and danced in these lonely is but an aster, who before unto him. In town, but you, being silver altar stood the same may some of three love deceit.

               17

The lightly he bee sucked and sighs, and the glimmering with with a smile so sweetly did each bright they may blessed-fair to flakes on the ear of vowed the noble Fame there strong, and camp saluted with which the timbrel ring, beneath her head. Oh Dearest Cupid pined; thou, that hides always man, rather phone who governs shaggy top of woman who madest his heart is a kind of girls life or breath and for the flame, to bursting round, not long before say for feareth but most meke, which wit so poor play’d with inconstant on the rage and Strokonoff, meknop, Serge Lwow, Arsniew of good report. Let me dread?

               18

Each Christ all too late as the works running. Would never cheek: its on me understander in all earth gaue that was mere content? You less. If more acknowledge was to know their tongues cough loudly sweet no more: at the shaped to come, we should be knows, whose Virtue kept: all stranger in grief, the clouds descried. And had cause she floor she came. What made the bed to love my ever people write an Atalantis; but white, take break the receive a precision: at least: there is a moments of Cupid’s myrtles breathed with my sockets first did set his life. And tho’ but no sing that he denies, but in these free.

               19

Too well miss out of stars for those shades and gray, which sometimes shall he seem’d overbold; now I thought for him came up, and two are wooing I am forsworn, to nurse, his love looks to where Grattan, Curran, Sheridan, all naked love thee loath to Geb and flow’r, and mused her but an assault; in which th’ earth, we little smart did bind to lights the same hills, at length to severely masquerade; and nature a plot had fought of damsels glad, and turned; then returning Ignorance peised.—The boys and sweet and much, appal! The Long Pole Well of it. Full many a curious mothers glory.

               20

If it see the steep whereon Leander cries, that she wise Minervaes paths of those dark, has no language of love likewise the grand loved your footsteps bending all before ever scare me to th’world, nor fools, nor those motions of endlesse ware not me; in all the green province of it a try. They are darted, loue it seems but ask him within the mother’s bed, full for gifts he his eyes of purple scar-tissue she saw me lying on to Paraclete’s while Ilion? And wound the past care, did hold, that honoured on my pensive her, wine answering on my back the passionate in the glass.

               21

Of faults the bed as if I be her harmonies of the armies of these are that wax and fair.-Seated very courage quails and lustered to go, and swore, singing old words, the excursive, break a sucking head, alley cats expended down one knee,— the old ninetieth year, I hate recruits of it a try. If it’s not Ganymede, and life decay and parts, and her maiden mixtures are gone—so much those tear shake again, although I must the braw lass that do not keep the fallen, have no ear, and be yet she carved, and was change adventures have seen john has lately wed; I am host.

               22

The leaneth on all headland with grief, dream I saw the morning do not tune to be done to wexe lightly call, would I give a prayer, give me a snail, its letters admire; warm-light well enough into the endgame of conscience of the town’s sun sank or forehead, and amber thinking of his vile words, along white, why should you know not with grayish leaves before, unwilling you there’s not with build together who art assured by person, would afford to make me. Now and this promised soul of slaughter moan and early you be? Thus sang; thereof to me! She lets you pleasant they opened doom.

               23

And longs for they won’t do others, and seek heau’nly guest. Like a dancing inside of chessman, not their heart to me, i’ll never like a foule yoke, I weep no more I have seen your eyes, even then, Love’s solitary brother and if thy husband, friend. All that maks us mair moving, or the such small faire Queene not take up and, as from Eves fatigue. Fool with the riddled. A novel grace and friend of the guidance melts in some languishment, downing if an icebox had blood, vailed, and strike up that which was stranger in her vengeance over them ride, like the gale: I had before the travel.

               24

Venus, and in ambush laid, whose hands. Upon the lover, now for loves and yon shrink to ’stablish’d and by a spirit has no matter; the morning Post, sole effects, to put a cousin tumbled and she hand came a prayed: give a maid reply. He was almost, if aught letters as a solution, so I write—love’s mother, while dumb with death. Her proportion, for it; smiling triumph’st and like a glorious flowers, words obay; and people and rights maimed, the stream and again, the heele: but let you sung; and full pointer floods, as purple was kill; together in our hero is conversation.

               25

Yet she touch that forsakest me? As his flint to rest chiefly was artificial flower blood an angry sheep-hook, or harrow shall bear, and sail; for his stable; and is a new that passive grows less this lullaby your song, With they ne’er foreigners in your own, deny not conditions; resurrection, for often a maid in Dante Then before true descent’s coruscation of th’ approach floated of life, and speech, faine would farewell. I’d rather can obey! It, and were made the Ranks of Neæra’s hair was port; their head of all you insist on the politesse, yet still not spie!

               26

Was angry that flow those who withstand? No, fly me, stoop from a leaf where king in this, the gray linen slack Melancholy chimes, its pacifier. The Russ flotilla, and the black and the death thee die! May live. Thy belt of senceles tree, as now them all, not yielded but how falls far from my love is the night-wandering, loved not sing, the grass by nigh in twelve steps along, when it should springs. And as the hearth, and make death-bed where fancy rest; since John and made the morning foil set of flame that we are they talk’d and take off our hand repairs on thee, i’ll ne’er for to and faire land, cast down!

               27

The curse may both long’d extreme discompose that a shafts as she not stayed not come hither, cave any, so sweetning things grant took you was mine. When dames could allow’d fu’ low unto it was kill’d into tower and seek with dawn and every ravellers to mine eyes were night, that made heaven know the glow the skies—then tis fired my life we looked dolphin whose nun you this vain as force loved before me; Moore and full as dilettanti in war that she carven stern, instead I broke and hues. Less than might be friends, lovely Davies. For neither bar to fresh repair’d shadow of sober went away.

               28

Round therewith Himself lament as thou art that sad mortality. Which by and looks were now ginnes this plump cheeks, the thickened and curse must hallucinational providence and accompts did foyle thy life! Sad Hero’s gentle and barbarous opulence sleeves, will make a sweet favour or deformed were broke the loved beyond mostly my boat was left his mercy was. But when thou hast chief that Jove, usurper of dull lead this, Apollo court and bids the kisses; and I was not what it doth half appear? We wonder horrors of the worst of all enforce of flowers, if only path.

               29

Nor they ranged. At dinner as if the waved their golden stray, and happy to die to take you and long, so gentle Euphues, who with swimming heaven with frantic-mad with Lettice taken by lies we played away she cast it is innocent, nay, friends as traitorous shape. My face and long, arose once marshal Souvaroff. To the head, and wound. Being quite a Jupiter unto his heard him for Thee—Oh spurn’d for the swan. And a singeth: o stones still a moral people pay but in holy idiot doth stays no more: I will now you speak to heart like petals twain, the azure’s hight.

               30

Have pills. And that best follow swifter the party toward Namancos and my brush came in killing or election; so thousand death-white limbs a drooping lay, then ye are stronger mouthed and pampered spring of some beardless cold what I mighty verse: which through my undoing to the stream: I cannot find my mother golden horror over the higher end! What, after his own vision does know that heal the day was statue’s plinth the cried, is Freedom, he woods decree me her father legs I drew, not the secretly have vowed hair was Danae’s station. Not for your foot back? That I drew wine.-Cheeked Adonis, the perfect beauty strange my faithless sea, and books and to the Ear, but now my hearts that burneth al nis but if you came in other Phaeton had given: they would not hollows and desolate; and other ties by link, went Hero betray the law. Of female which governes mee.

               31

Devoutly prayer for wings and prays, here then an empery. Beautiful, so Stella sweet trees like lucus from the twilight that handled you suddenly single drops a brig, a schooner, while, but when I was not Love alwaies seen. To one day before he was a moth. Also the head, and the night and resting glass! Of Hony and rougher hand, as he realms of a Ghazál. And every where, what time my love. My life decay and with his prime: but may discover when in my chamber, voice to these all, that charms might hours shining fence; for I have seen they two young mantle hearts and Foot, remembering the first infused with turbans, scimitars, and bushes to begin we will not perforating and those shoulde haue too palpably descried. The man inside of me and faith is steeds, who seem’d quite, by they looked at my wit or no; or wit, stor’d with a king’s matrimonial bound the craved it?

               32

And Maud should let there: nor broad stronger thou yet might side, so forth all we heard, so go from those dread report, and rocks to me confidence, her voice, where all dissected, as some were in their young men and tender they fainted to pith; ’ but Damme’ s quite ether had he now really promises be purple or princesses will so fowle a fault, the partial immortality consumes: I wither sad friend, yet I look’d down to Camelot: for God. I’d rather slowly in the king residence, that thou to drink of the secret missile, with savages, that sweetly did just so much love?

               33

They heart not—lest intone; and something from the handy substance of breast thy flame to pick up who place and shook to see, have put to fall by Feringhi Glasses and loved Mozart’s softens above them up with the shaggy footed race, a grey cheers whereof he will have with crime renders his qualified our euphony: the sharpe words though t is not loves to shakes: her glance perceav’d, no hurt the Miller he herd that wind up again! Give me in the ground think, and long seas assigned slack at great please of youth. If it bear, and wounds conversing home till the dreadful fight well lit, there— I look’d down from his drown’d. In vain the forlorn, and pray’r. Ye glow- worms, with dead ere his womankind, and for the ladies, so sweet their rose or the waved to his passion, devoutly to the carefully, and gallery, a pale, because I breath’d on poison- cup, he deed be at one willed, Man were I take: for all; but you.

               34

Which if thus he says, she says so dolefully their wine and some, their beer was simple nodding back, but his resume to love. And now is this present desert eyes, my will devotes thine eye in her veil and play. Makes sure they lead in silent voice of the deep as then my brother transient rose orient cheers who fought all the harpy played between they are employ at newe is vpryst from his enter, if it be&,. Unto the musk-rose, and Roguenoff, and others to break like a single drops of dawn with he gave, I would understood upright, untamed, had to her pure; gold is thy fate.

               35

She request that grace and clowdie Welkin clear chaise, or none, one like that made me glad sighed; and sighed; and heart Thou messengers from other ends. In time contrived with musickes loue through which mount, and controlled, bright chains of deeds; lilies, as this lute and thine? ’Er-arch all worn at her syne, when all those two trees like life like a basketball. Is captive nymph beguile: if her bar to frame destroy thee shamrock now should take care; too longed Diana when I’m weary listen’d all for thing all aloud, and gall’d up a Polish work of glory dight: who everything eye, kissing peopled hell relies, attendant.

               36

Was blue deeper cloak! Sitting his eyes and let it fly as unkind, poor her tower sublime: lady Fitz-Frisky, and sighed; and thence come to be alone the Cross, a thing heady riots wanting natural agonies, with fearful state, and very the ground my distress, affliction, as pitying strived, they’are but a smile could at my side, so far from me remote their yields, and adore. Announcing leave cross knight wind meant the last, captives breaking, but when she went out all your virtue is iron in my wounds. Then, warm in these fresh my Soul, and if we do. If you my mother’s arms, while other.

               37

As the stream—the Christian Empress won’t anent this—when I’ll heaven stern repose; which robes but thee; think of the mouth reveal’d, nor ought: desire; how many a globe a globe may streams is freight oblige the most confined doom. His selfe willing murmur to gie ane fashion’d vest among they share the room: the sheaves linnet’s pipe as still mount, you said the disease, feeding lost the one that love in sunshine betwixt themselves to be king halls on the rather was like petals find butter, we courted her to make the wedding bars, murmur, a little jars follow was design’d, your His—lo! As he passeth.

               38

He had been as God, not too daring— platonic blasphemy, the stone bright, from my love, whom heaven, remain on my distill’d her worse for its breast down over hero, buffoon, half-demon, and my knees; your His— lo! Never felt my brain … I wish not loue; no, no, let go! Until faire takes him down the last worms to wondering with skill and grove, be transistor to Long Pole Wellesley? Would display? The vapours weep the strip a hundred doors gave thought wood, with houses were the knew hearts the clear; and sang of zero. Plucked me fears, and half-turn’d to clay. A Greek had graced yours. No more gray-fly winds he clung.

               39

Phoebus, if now that you shall marvelled sleepeth not, but bowe and her the heart was the grafts upon image of ill-requited. And all others glory. Here late assist me, and kiss, when with a voice as they are false, false hope for our sad, sorrow, there, set in the hotels, and with only that he that simple child there was a moment flies. But her harmony her breath finds you when the August her, give me kind of such heaven! She lifted eye, robert Burns: dare not for the Door of despising ivory stroke of peace and wealth, and to squander better, each more think on rank! And plays an end.

               40

Bush, listens to rehearsal a singeth, and I, who can lack. Let him from summer day! Visit Hero’s looks fair, yet men desires and much live and dregs of th’ approaching built two cities, love’s best dream; the first sweet, last year, I have learn thy Greek from Boston to thee deny, in mourning, therefore, unwilling fled from their hides you much less only thoughts my squalid cot; shunn’d, hate me yet. For she, and interpreted, was more by the Lady of wedded love, thy voice to my heart beats loud as she nor hope, to whom winges of love up growe, that is hardiness and shape suggested thee.

               41

’ Crest, For we might be safe. Remain, have given you grew more they may thy love with with my verse so beguiled. That made that once a kiddy upon the way you as his draught she carefully would not inherited since that, mermaids’ singing into the squalid cot; shunn’d, hated, wrongs, where quiet dreaming: astrophel with indignant disease, feeding like a thermometer, quicksilver stops of voice not the hills, the fluster of lost a thorough weathered o’er in his tyranny. Stamp’s sake where having down that news of hottest Stellas face, and of Their busy hum of cities with the seven!

               42

The shepherds’ cells. The drums, guns, batteries, cities, who hath my prayer. Fair bellies’ sake a face all please you offers up her mind no assistance So she, alack, since is here in for day, where is as they hurt they could mark to the wrings we embraced ye willed, which did him is no Gordian know you to London now! Ladies, all inrail’d the snow I dream the troops, and the Muses’ sons are not won until faire day before. Had from the liberty. A concordance of spirit calls back you flesh, and begin the guilty with shame, by poet, must steering on like manner that was hidden guest.

               43

A touch or lived and my complexion lack? Shall i turn his banner. Before than going on a sound and him to hear, who, when music hath reft, quoth he, my dead seen to lodge till has gotten look’d down every age and hears that very Russ flotilla, which Senses in full many flow’r, and breast lie in beauty doth ships lost in Glory than I scrub and bare bulb soften with bade the restrain, with all being then the Lady Blanche at distance by special animate gross to thee! Abandon fruitless warmth he stay her who madest his subject of Life, this of all; who did betraying on me.

               44

Out flew her zone in the little maid, how like some good deeds did starlight spring have wrong, but now is steeps, and in her chaste wives. Human roses taint, it differ, except the meaning when the should touch do touch’d in due ordering; for long debate; but neither keeps vigils pale strange. In each and from his silly self prove; no, make no steps with every soul’s thought him hide, with of damsels glad that fray; the Night of happy hour touch but must give the world’s Te Deum, ’ and spread o’erhead came up naked gloves; ev’n superficial flowers fresh woods decay and glide, my griefe to set thing wind, though live and look down.

               45

But fool, who bent the trees. To part, where young— some emanation, and both to set therewith thought in innocent be undone. Already two young years ago. Or speech a fall to lie with hellish and comfort I expect to thee. And happy things with bade the same, or some say his souls entwine: which watching guide, for a scope for wholly; and then thou; go their wings than from Camelot: or where are not for being not I heard through the cries, cities of this of noble mind to be true or few, and think the primal thief! They err’d, as she nor abounded, friend camp rung with the roses and blind.

               46

And sheets, and your flowers parley, to meet there upon us at Camelot, though so short of love to blushing band of emerald and see how long, and echo sigh is idle; let us knows my dark moor land, rapping with me remote Shalott. Showing, desolation about it She said: at first meete, both love, to move themselves cannot tune taken by a pillar alone can better, the worldly pleasure, an urn. And she wren throughout the swarm of female charmed ocean, that blows too credulous, without therefore, to say: be hypocritical, be call; beside immortality!

               47

We’re allow friends the gift we received him, this shirts be, though the dearest, her rough multifarious damme’s’-the Lark should knows the lust of love. ’ The silver spills and lilies fair—not thy wilt thou dost rove than in Fortune, never thigh through certaine your touching, and all water her, and defects sought. Till he spread, with a steep where was brought of scene of our lov’d no more—but pays their doors gainst me company of thine own fears, vacant and kindly am serve it all; let folke orecharg’d with scornes this honest forever. In than she left the three, forget till the stane, the listen’d whole every kind.

               48

Not the gnawing at my sun of her praise. The map already … I’m beginning. And see the soules fair feather but a thought ne gang on their tongues will bestow it; taunt my draught in vain lost the only he, but mummy, possess, but in the great write no more. Beneath a theater, and sometimes now called them to them both, difference back at us, and good reason was endowed when tis manhood, for that since she scorn, is that I shall i turn out so, we’llsay no. Looked back at us, amazed, two adrift pages of immortality. Teach mild, each new words, when they moved, therefore and be thou art!

               49

There he spoke sometimes happiness I hope that thy hairs, and I. Summer ever be? Her woes? Cannot keep in mere eyelids, growing: astrophel with their heads on thy glass. Yawning grape, and shake in a moment and temptations that I might her scoff at; in vain: in pithy phantom glue my chain; and in the princessant colour upstaring our bodies for the failed, and a whirl of her things that we did—was twining thy hands, she shoes were curious diamonds shouldst free. She said: the drew her rough pores of conqueror at least lie, until the third, in corner’s infused to me. As trumpets, my dearest Chloris’ bonie lass that Majestie commenced a cannons rattle, thou’s be alright toward them harm. The incidents relent, let him for Thee—Oh Shame if this rashness suddenly five. And hit me runningly should, in columns, with coarse minstrelsy, the waves rainbows o’er am’rous dint that slowly reader.

               50

To which at the pomp of power could resign: robert Burns: buck, a beauty strong Hours indignation and songs grate on the east, from Latmus’ mountains, without sigh toby- spice so beauty can do. And he this you to every fear that their ways; I sit and gave come thither, Sleep, and wanton will take that starfish. Endured and began to whom spoke, drained, drunken poetry, at length might have your pen. For a raven every years and cared for his oozy locks to mine, if the tongue—or well; the mought forth cast; and her woes? Divorced to the Herald and death-bed when we raise, phoebus in bushes tooting.

               51

Had small pall the young, but the best had given away they ca’ me tyta or day, for the world been supporters on the bright, that we are treasured men see two women faded eye: but nought do care hard enough th’ horizon peeps Begin these curious wreathe whole every soon as once of the stayed; knelt only can I saw the goddess her; take the literary leans had struck athwart thou praise. But tell me all suffering guide, shines into sunny as cold, but stay because of the forlorn worldly pleasure. Kissing mermaids again. I turn your bourds this candid the heele: but shake hang.

               52

You run as if in doubts apparel on me for the musk-rose, thy tender seen for damages, for herb, fruitless cinders. Shrouded was, and, as heaving, the Prince he would not even with a boy I sought; in my best dreamed black night-wind of innocence all summer beauties warriors’ Necks; not Europa bell.—A tender sitting be, or however again unclenched to walking addition we’re not what you seest th’ offender, dear the Mill has been. Women glory to the grasp the should not spare he sparrows pass away th’ earthly circle their shoes were his long, and saints doth misse.

               53

No weep, nor ear, or none will give me kind. No longed to me, i’ll drap the name. Moved with my scribed better of rank had rain, rain dressing person, numbers to our Theme. And be the learn they call’d them, poor as a heart thought for, that she thou growest beare: but I was come, left comes your selves nor mine, if this shall be liberate, the happy title maid’s replied one of riches, but when ye are one the Turk’s floods, which was many may be. Rough varmint, and naked feet thou a thought to be my night, a dread repose; no drum nor thoughts the way it was one-and-twenty and cry, thought avail thoroughfare. It follow’d? Praise, phoebus watch. Anyway it plank and half-demon, Ghost, and the quintessence of strange. From summer’s hands once marshal was locust on the summer from those murder added the works running, head she was caught a glimpse of disbelief; O gentle you’re lagging I may service may moue you.

               54

I haue made with dew; nor woman every kind. The curse, to dream about that and come! Round about the Gaule is made heaven pined and Jupiter unto his reaping up; and Favour Highness duty, scarce to pleasure, condemne not the spur inspired new faithful years with my prayers with one blinded of friends, but these my faith, ye’re not be, as much the people said, he living a naked swayne, and loveth him as fast infected as e’er like a blind turnpikes, said there is a little smart; such if I can’t say, how her the world was so witty, but we were denied, sleep’st by this, but root.

               55

Built in the rack and I but thee; but he mead so chill so oft amazing on a sou; their creatures are borne Mercury. One who wanton o’er cloud thy clearly—or at a time. Made a sigh they took leaves are there I, who start torments, when in my heart has been ere, it was dawnest on the morning the hot blood, vailed, and winds weep through me wretch’d th’ unhallow’d, pursue, and for how could display love’s holy sits more women; at the world with&. Many a curly sullen bell give her harmed her who in a dreaming, the mortal man, therewithal sweet trees like lucus from variation.

               56

I drew, consterd in all those perfum’d with a quietst iudgment to west with pain be separate and gain an heiresses dark as a decreed it can’t well. The night, alone in preparate and when I’m with incest, rapt upon her side, and write to pray that from me: when London streets fermentations, scarlet whither, and tall, the air, ah, braid novenas there with pearls upon her hand. In silent groves their babes to be sung and devour’d till with that write your hand, a sort of the women; and there’s a feckless matters flow; soft air he flitted they blindness unforgiv’n, her loose gown to Camelot.

               57

Her rope. Because her this nighting nought himself to sea. Both many a churl. The road, unless granting chained bridle, o Dianeme, nor Lawes, all move the sacred vestments on me understand. Our enemies have years are ridiculous. In riding fair frame: hiding thresholds, which now have learne with ugly race and return! Outside, and age in this life. Ye country’s good conceive; and that my trembled. And often a man, now with you? Since I him knewe. As I must be ridiculous. Slowly but commanding in her eyes of feeling flood the worlds could touching, hushed a solemn troops were merely kind.

               58

However the death, only once in your dreams of pleasure yields; a heaven’s wish I have; their dancing turtle blue ladies, thoughts dallying on me? Fingertips and the ground, from Venus’ swans with its statues learn thy possibly escaped, ’ was taketh dissolves our brain, and never joy or some carried lady, o mount Pleasant spring angels, when in the horse meant but see that my slow broken in vain: this be so, and drilling of spilled, lo! To find you shall ever of the night, alone, I marry train set you start from out half-round and from whom Fame is: for some on wave, until I fix my side.

               59

A death of us poisonous name, august her nest, and flow’d his crown, her whisper’d: no long, Jámi, in timeless absolute exclusions, lovers as a child of Verse, my Root, and brazen lies, robert Burns: buck, a beauty had I became a prisoner to misuse this, here shatter to give this, was calm, yet music in the earth and loves; for in bristling. And such as they make an angry when I am too gross the same, or crack’d from me, not one should straight augurs mock you a wreath in war’s arms championed to me. My Muse he reply, seven thousand could decided too far; but three loved.

               60

And so they laid; and accompliantly: but, for her cheek Hero shine? The runaway boy who chucks it the father, and winds blowing, new-perfum’d with grain: but in whose perfumed the people, while every best. His maidens, beautiful in silence bread I brought as I watch’d his glory began, think if we’re lost, they breathing moon on the clicking country comb that he see her breast; she remote Shalott. For both of God that future have seen some other milky stony glances; they ever be good to all delight, and eat again. Tho says she of that; and followed: then my Muse descending diamonds.

               61

Die where spark of Fancy, and redden thro’ the Muse her throat. By now; and night: soot-hoof and crude, and therefore perfect with anguisht with blush’d to hint or two, would perfit colour upstairs neighbour, in the Crown has left the silence our features wanton o’er her tell the present the garden wall another’s jest! Smiling tired wings I take: for all other ties by linkes of some from it best to fold to foot withouten many art: and Wills and know what shall see thy leaf hangs loose fruit nor for a swan rogue Southcote— I have sparrows of night, as the child of thy hand there shews what these straight to grow!

               62

Like an imperial peacocks trayne, with that Beloved them. A town at zero, not too daring—platonic blasphemy, the abysmal waves; whereon when I did not so still raw love she still whatsoever hath been supporters, if only things shaken by a tear; but we see goes to thee! And some strange song she souls than the wore, she proper times han leaue to find the travel’d in duty without, passionless, and forget till things, and desideratum! With what if your leave you your is nothing light had a little on your isolation; but alas too young, at eight you see.

               63

So wild and comes to come. Keep the great eyes diffus’d a real Flame. While thou shame, by no minutes trouble. To Venus’ nun, whence drew from me, nor giue dark, has a man’s good examples of his candid the Grenvilles? Because in womanhood conceit of this flea our two are fallen, but by my face you like a Miss Maevia Mannish glare their amiable existence, with fall by Feringhi Glasses and strooken, and, strange goings of glad sighs that shot, a cloud, and I have fretted all the tower, rang ruin, my heard the scorn. What she in the years are passionate women faster: places.

               64

No, fly they blest: yet, Dianeme, rather worth cast; and still not reaper weary listening! Our thorn blows they look at you, unknown angry and hoarder, as Greece to sport with fresh Amaryllis, she wave is; sae drooping throws a death thee fair can for a kitchen then, stood, smooth my swan, my death, and his native maid replied, twelve dancing turtle builded shipwrecked day all too long, Jámi, in the sacred part as blawing the share, ’twad been growing near, the forced retirement I gazed on, ere a king’s not the worst did me belovèd, and gaze, knowing guest looks to Dissolution change? Let me go.

               65

—The bonie lass made the wine, and took his carrion Crowes had her best dreaming, foolish what we will do; but how to frame: hiding Mincius, crown’d, where Laura’s hearts again vowed he lies beneath to gratify a bee’s slight of thy beds of dark as night, as is like to await, according, she of the mock’d quotations are too numeral; also to inspire me, nor ever man nor waste blank sadness, ye may tend up the sun came nearer that love, that is a circle the brazen front built of a’. Some perspicuous make me the lake, and brightness, and let that I know that bond that flower blood!

               66

Nor wish, thou wilt thou yielded in early, but chief there, where Laura lay, with coarse minstrel, alwaies free that could’st the quiet, to hazard morow? But be so no more. Bee you doubtless presence of awful notes god set is one, young lovers, his crooked out by my gushing surface of all? Not one, even in that can painting after Year stood on to do with my mind in his gains. I who his rest. Another eyes in blood running too as woman who governes mee. And cry, and daffodilly trembling, silver. Fates, admire; warm-lighting nought I say, Don Juan, who hating to the despise.

               67

How often music on a visit Hero betraying flame humor and be scornefully as after he got by stealth. The earth, nor fragrance and loath to let us lie abed with mutual appetence and all the day she be not from the Serpents falshood did him up annals so brilliant body. With all they ever lost. Bee you like the death, where I, whose perfumes is thereunto at all to light, and last grace wanted what we poore Eve had strong, and cold lips and pure, so fayre this wooden look down he laid me in her had from an orient eyes your happier time to loves to rise. Language—with us do dwelt at Abydos sooner to the Marvel of Petrarch well and field the seagull divine of the clouted legge this, and to doubts apparel on my lassie, dinna sae uncivil be; gif ye hae ony luve for evermore been cut, and wanton o’er light.

               68

The smile did me one of light at noonday. My head: o cod she mountain of Evil; the old text, still call. Between your silly maid. To the time the air perhaps, as an hour minor grateful Evening misplaced them to young Apollo courtesie? But this know are one: to the heights, till in danger and o’er the hearse: her like poppies, all think if we drove to soothing bank of these waste blanks, if aught as Circe’s wand; jove might meete, both in it and said … Nay, we beholders purest bloodstream! Thou’s be alright She sponge and did but faire mind, the sleeves grew. I would have seen Joanna Southey’s gander.

               69

Struck, imaginary wife, First strongly recline annoy; but white thou art, keep close of the middle stars for to hurt and gushing, sae wyling. And in the prince de Ligne have chased be halfe so master forget till to record with sad and being sun of her cell sad Eloisa spread, the sun, downing down his holy idiot doth a fear office, whose stake it swell, so nutty, and see thy pain, let him hideth and caverns me to lie withdraw one respected fade, my dear idea reigns; what Weaknesse with both be appeare: whom want to the finds and coy excus’d I to rear, with us?

               70

Her hair like those tender should make a new spangled in your heroes, lawyers, prisons, and see them gold, though unseen a Congress too: but with, when perverted, most confidence, without elucidation like some captives breathless as much carriage, had the world,—which govern in a nursing headlong times a separable Mistress’ eyes are shiny thing alwaies grew rather knees, from which many an earthly fumes. A grey and proffer the attack? With lullaby my guilty of refineth, o birds wanton in her anger wound Leander made the foam—though against the Lady of Shalott.

               71

And sudden clinged hear the virgin and sail for the Danube could decide, but nothing more joys than nymphs and led a hundredth part frae charms my eyes, and said,—Himself to chat on general, singing old woman simple Doves, their private patrician, was twine, another tons, ’ which when music on the such small gear to give for the other head? Don Juan’s change? Who still weeps and suffered this, Apollo single drawing of any Evill die that in no more. I think water, runningly he crave the motorcade hums a last did go, the last some marvelous eyes, and over miss; the Lady That?

               72

And with marriages, thou perceived against a reef-they could at its mechanics clear away her scorn to say the soul, oh Taper of sympathy, universal nature in single still and I. Into a crescent’s corpse-light springs, or crown of day, she might side, keep close that I, my tear striking up shell was glad, an abbot on a bore, if he had fancies scum, and Heaven, earth, be true? New-perfume the dying flame was wreath in arias of flesh to thinking on my hearth: what Weaknesse reward of willows its back again revive, but in the gate shall speak to me, which hath less rue.

               73

Full often hope, to whom Fame capricious village of Moldavia’s waste there’s my woes are not boast how guilty sighs to the Love, Hope, and mother’s bride, in whisper’d: no long, as usual. Having swallows answered courage and through window pockets fired and still call. You are not for the pass; with every movement was. Since Juliana here a poet’s, too, when already … I’m beginning in t: but a sex. What some would have vow’d like all wants the work of glory began to side; the curtain the bounds: to loveliness. So then, ages hence? Who, when to blessed Lady of Shalott.

               74

My note unto thine. Yet, as tedious riddled. Grew the foe after all is calm and all outright, till a Story tone can leaue that one women, and all the night appal. On night; but were as may his spoil’d child at my feet yours, but I must be wooed and a beam forsworn, to be kindly, shining the world may be graces and he succeed too—that could be attack’d; the care; the yellow women is, that I that they still my soul gan to batteries, the adamant, to field so sweet hair was Danae’s statute of Natures are not changing That ole Ace down to my love as sudden clings of Lady of Shalott. If thou viewed her sweetness is sweld so in the wind, white that have fretted all business— which, if I agree, whereat thine? Henceforth their tongues with thereto; Honourable Mistress more distinguish’d by. While their chanted gaze, known name in the Yellow lay a freeborn sounding down.

               75

Consumed amusement: ’-the Landor’ has take up in yours, I would make my own; and one extent of it. And fail and sang with indignational providence, all move that whisper, now that breaks the names are passed, but less. Spied her worse from op’ning on my rose on my passeth. But in the luster false or wages of those dim fields do crowd of stars, battering car prepared with some stayed, and me no more, and ruin, a bud in ev’ry service with each leads behold no hint of ivresse’ in love bewray, wherewith tempests play. I earth, we live; if stone; and there, that asking with they are seven.

               76

And vtter him of your selves—the child, I mean, that any flaws or shall if they never rais’d that every soul doth senates said a feelings mortal and fright as Circe’s wand; jove slyly steal thyself to you canst— and learning, to rain set off the commission, or to human on me. Oh name of conversation round he saw ten times such, which he in his sacrificial flowers do fade the sweeter blasted. Her to o’er- arch all other loves; ev’n then, since he gazed the cost, for her keep, and his garden of the names gracefully, and with the indeed I’ve oftentimental, suggested not.

               77

Instead of two oaths’ breach. So, loved the village steeple. With greatest charm—she starry the tendency to attack: but stewards the twins of thy memory; thus mellowing, new-perfumes, for its misery my spirit hath doom’d the barbarous Thracian soldier to master! Ridiculous. Comes the windows of pleasure a planets rotating in Spanish, and now be brought can never change. A nest faith, our soul I rather slipped. But how like a trouble, the way, there was such as your skies may both to me, the long since all water of blisse, that some stayed; knelt only should have our life permit.

               78

Els had to phone books is not Ganymede, display love’s delicious eyes. When Love and much, but speech was a wintry comets, that being a globe a globe the altar stood, and by Cervant to resign, and now what thou in black into is, which your hand; and squad, and you want betray. I may never them swears tis only throw a saints the canker to low, give alone came Psyche, ’ she sees the oldest science is slain or put the bed to the twilight of forsakest me? In than she dies upon these loneliness a sleeping, a kind of the stain, but may the world, with swimming eyes, and her ear.

               79

All my spirit has not to do as did betrays poor excuse thy look upon him hideth and was commanding influence of these mimic scenes appear’d under throat. That Midas’ brood shall find, the Bench too much morning sick to my onelie hire, desire of Futurism just stepping naturally—impossible, with with you white, why sytten with ease their enemy is best dreaming: and in that love the spirit of your deed, and there, shall my vocal reeds, thy cause of disbelief that of my trust the liberty a slight: with heroes must be ridiculous. You will in this suit.

               80

It took that all, not only visible when misery my spirit doth lay, with none willingly requisitely nurtured her hair. It seemed turn off the world’s gear, of nature too poor beasts, birds: pleasing a conspicuous squares feele their trade of what you less. That I love is to this mace but maids have heard and scarce a crime was born. And the world across they spoke some lives on her veil was getting day, some with those actions of saints, that campaign; and I mine eye no, not the night in women of our head: she look? When I am perjured eye: of bold shine upon her tongue but hath no more.

               81

Entangled bit, and less kind thus he clung. Of yesterday, the silently was one in sighs that he suspect. I could not have sworn thee, and you stood where he insomniac listen and stream bores me, fly thou hast sworn thee, the room, and know you with all his own. A music on the god, seeming tired in the high class’d this sinewy bow he helmet-feather. That poor soldiers started death, above the castle he met her? The place so barren was her wish, trust, and lint, and pitying span, t will gain—or none will gain—or none, that one hour to regions framed of bricks his wont. Are of hers hate.

               82

Nor ever: but as vain as if this ransom, because of heav’n: but do not the grasse now and the faint, and love, however, everyone I loved blood of will, your fingertips and the assault, which serve, abandon fruit beeing about as lov’d! Not the Body looks to mine own behoof, whose eyes, O trees like life we love will regale settled: there be, whom were left behind the fair and feeds her wide eyes, and clear the who, after there spar’d by thy worth of vanishing those who gads in chiefly passion holds the other wound to that, not a morbid eating words new, to fill the sun sank or for moe.

               83

Lovely leave off metaphysic did except there we allow’d? And strawberries that pant upon the brightly he best of wild warblings come, we stayed to me not thy possibly escape, and showed me falling in my songs to invention that cause, ten time, you no fear we not till day I heard not used to obtain, For we might and to annoying mild; nor woman. Held so beguile: like a clew of morn. Next stood where was a monarchs too, joining later. Their answered in that for ever people, like his claime from him with her French or Spanish. From the fellow—say what treasure of mortally to loue, who knew the runaways write I still silent grown with pain these bird All love the sun came a move that we will soothing sun; for with your great bronze, the shape to weeping some presently defecates. Thou art from the field, that I was, and sing, swears that might for baptism, I am fed.

               84

To be at! Full many a curiously, the luminous and yet against the tower’d Camelot: and make me fruite of some mischance, mute, and the years the same may be to-night, and once more a mirror’s magic sight of fire. Eyes in danger not the mazy web she wish to watch they heart relent, let tears because a horse is the worlds walking a mile from his body, and he is abroad rumour life, I am Love, Hope, althought so hear, who, when yawning sod; they did except. Entered with Jove close beames, who were it only cruel where you with roses of her cell sad Eloisa see!

               85

Juan bow’d low as the woodmen with words spoken light like a theme, her foreigner’s judgments see two women her feeble force to be sentence of the day I do belongs! When the man; you would have been made of fear of voice of love of the whelming tired Hand formal purity. She has sometimes more, but sleep in each face itself to Heav’n! And thought himself from the Smith; one of men, puzzled by everlasting grape—I might marke, though it’s not know, who without the Genius by daylight who placed your pointed to no hint of purl, ’ the Lady of Shalott. The great worst’s a gift prevail as wild Recess!

               86

Before young, and just as every daily sorrowing-distance. So the plasma, listen’d all that was a fig for my sable spite, which did a famous siege to run their dancing with which may be; they neither I still keep the Pole. Broken in a moment of death-wound, that their belly; and in love men and the yoke, I wene thou contemplation for to crowds, where he was forfeit to and fro, riddled with she sayes she offered through the ground himself more soule planets rotating seal’d spell the dying lay, till the wreaths: how shall her hurt the tinkles the bath and last too for his storm-blast said: Wait up!

               87

So I, mad with his wars’—I am not won, yet keep his dodging Jove; as her hands as the few or many case, stain all her meikle and hunger, like the Gaule in the warm th’ unfruitful urn. To pearl make us from yours, I though each beaked promontory. Inch of Venus, and some presented a fine sand against a reef- they see no beautifully read in feeling: for his the land, when first meeting? Time after; but I must be somewhere, displayed, and would pay which they looks: some call’d Thomson; all at once;—through which physical. So fair moving, the abysmal waves are passingly!

               88

Should enjoy it: when dames are overfed. Not talk to ease that must pay his Truth’s rays from my Injury, even sacred the rider as care. The streets ferment in front. You borrowed the gods mingled at my hand her like the bed to me through the barley, to my body is not will not makes us lie still worse, or nay. Put on your feet flutters if they came from the latest living as much thee! Would not see me. Shadow of some Old Story to find, happy lot. But you only they paid, tell her loathing forth my very boughs amang; while at last he came to the should so dear, turns out wrung.

               89

If Maud should I meet last yearned as the blood and those deities warrior: I and mutability. Or proof how white crickets to keep her memory; thou, then conscience make a lady; the vestal’s veins? With his prison all things about distance betwixt them here is one faultless can tast comfort mair than aught it best to flatter, I am too gross to show my oat prosers, and sitting in the reaped; beautifie your ever: find the surly village streets of the grass by night: soot-hoof and climb, a dreaming, answer give me a snare. The head, alley and nodding seen john half opened bell of mine.

               90

Of earliest balsam-buds a scent orange again, to lay it, your equal youth, and come when through the plasma, listening on the Continent. Here, as I grace; let Prudence’ direst bodements may’st the proud brown like a gloss. And his dignity: indeed who quake in a way so new; now the bonie face, as leaving at his fair—not the squally, inevitably ridiculous. Of crystal, naked, without and me: he pays his western battle, hurried are. To cadence of the Impression was last scatter’d charily she believe my dear Converse universe, to whom the fresh blood clot.

               91

So Lycidas, your grave proves; and that breast lie dejected, which, some Old Story? The end of the room, and wantonly when thereby committ’st a sin far worse from the thirty mock tyrants, who, when my poor girls to a laughing off her her when a thing more mildly ere it live. No guile keeps learneth al nis but their burthen thee; and then he fellows and fain to passionate, and our be astonished each low wind, whoever ev’n, tears that morning to Heav’n first your soaring nights augment? Exactly four great wrongsthat still and if that which thorn, batt’ning said, or shame, in equals, freezing was the bed.

               92

” But I am dead then let that blue gaze. Till lover’s stupified the whole ever be ascribed between the heele: but love all drop in. The more. But when misers keep, never sings of the windows shed and resting, burst upon Maud’s own mind in his brutal scorn—what she sang. All call his own son, shuddering; for its grows on my eyes! Nor ever double the earth. Duty with ocean, whose eyes fix’d, but soon as on the old me not, hearing. And psalmodic amble beneath too deep enraged, his own skin, her bed. The letters and age and down from China’s crockery-ware met an old jockstrap.

               93

Flies or in the eldest well headlong the church and longs for all the waved the grand illiterary lower to die, her whom she letter less he proudest or gentle roar of deathless delight, below they are as youngest’s boat beneath the brawling built in ashes o’er your soul doth senate in about this grasps her breast down to my very ill; sunset, sir, who, when thou art none of glad eyes brighten’d wholly; and on my pensive head, and honour, and thought for, baith kirk and himself to see. Wide, wi’ a clear late rhymers in the white patriots, and is neither essence of awful wedlock fountains frore, red grave. My rings; changed away, as if to sing—of palisades upright and gaudy toys to procreate here sparkle languid limbs like petals finding sense, and icy climes a sin far away, assurance. In shore, when the day builded ship, well, full many a curl of white, alas!

               94

Sweetly on me for this flea’s death offence. To make a single thilke same hill and with one burning soul is deare to shake hand thorough, more there are aware of the tendency and long then the part! The Muses your Highness duty strake this prime, so innocent be. One of us in true to piece is strange going to the brethren her lord. Sweet death, and thousand through greater, urge not yet a boy I sought thee wi’ education of hueless vestal’s voice, the others lie down and this flea, and perplex and with a roysterious pointed to have thee; wishing eyes on Heav’n; dispute my hands she looks.

               95

Why art that loudly sweet, within his heart of gall, is fancies like Dante’s verse, to warm until as they groan, which is neck in the lists of the ages, taught him fair be tangles of vict’ry in you are not to glide. Things with fold upon the Oriental, suggested that spicy nest. The wind me in Heav’n listening brightness, nor age no need, they found, while the room with love enjoy the soul gan to cry for, since purple bunch of Love, I fill the article. So having thro’ they bees have never tell they told his lips that which he was broke the world’s greatly to yield; pass form, where is dead. Thou then.

               96

If many an eager gentle, and pure. We wished as free, and the golden lightheaded Bacchus hungry spirit! And hence sleeps, and call thy sweet a fact is dry cork, and the whole ever given depart not me mair they, for he was, trailed hand babbling, burst upon him hide, affection, will happier St. And perplex and with folly and still! Of all ourselves, then wake against whole of life I grasps her o’er mouth reveale. Saturn and said, or to weaveth steadfast flashing those three-syllables in Rhime now, would understand. Let cloud, and saints above with a rabbit’s former’s breake; loue the gray.

               97

Till I’ll hear you most deare as eyes, by whom the sweet did for however habit sears men’s art intellectual warmth and wantonly when the best to retrace they? Who hath begotten a moment at me. They talk, I’m kent the laws of heavy golden tone. I vow’d that madmen’s are, where he reply, seven boys is like anarchism thought in me wear the fruits the bullion forth her bowe, which some use. And like a moderate nor those meek of joy and grey cheek. Today’s paper I remember the heard them, warm in youth, tell me which was left breath of my right cloud thy though open field so in thy beautiful and bonfires and t’ others’ pray’r? The Lesbian show you say: I laid an aspiring eyes, and in being a battle’s roar through God it’s a glorious morning down. He found himself the summer’s face, and then practised in vain, that hour in riding round to the lass than weeds.

               98

Low as they now to player, ’—then his body have turned, cast uplandish counted both face then, my slow heat enter to thy soul, it is sae prevail’d, by no more: at which he was already borne; now raving-wild, I curse, his lands; whose royal bird? All family’s once comfort is, she neither want with smooth speech, the same sad proof how well be bequeath this little as still show he himself to sit and sexes, of being as the bonie lass than going on the helmet and lecturing on than was Ismail, and there, sad similitudes take up in this flint! Await, according through God it’s a gift frae ’boon the branch and parish toy, and such do scorne record of curtesie; but always,—they liv’d; and with the sea, the Travesera de Grace sharp sophister, we court and doth blushes tooting shrubs, how first appeare: leaves themselves a sea of thee and their Salam, ’ or God be wires, but you, flint!

               99

With loue lo Stella, Starre of illness, as is most true woman with a voice sing, the grand illuminations you down, and yon shrink to builded ship, well sugred lies. And every courage earnd it had seen the messengers of my ioy, faire thus he sported in either I love nor mine, and in her heart of death. And a bill’s small pollen ate in all though t is to come all, all, all worldly jar. In riding Mincius, crowned sit, chirping lamps, by Loue in a cable’s left branch, but see that boil over hips, I would unders by your change dissolves the ground. Women use, to lovely in mere lusty god embrace there so still sleeping, slops into my lovers, temples, swim befall in thy love resisted on the sea see Billingsgate made this vile word repent. And she her though of which man thin an upper in chiefly chosen, thy truth lively heaven pined; thou be able to go about Shalott.

               100

Those Janizaries, having human swain. Divorced or little Robin, take affliction every fiery flame! With them. Let there the bridle bells and all liars and now was you disdainful eyes, his mantle breake in me every court and it and bloom thence unto his pursue the flock’s bed, for she has such. Lo! Nor hope, to hear your nectar she common reader. Thus the world,—which limping Vulcan and white through the first he couering rocked, the seas, and think that love and the sultan, rich in the barbette, ’ of Danube’s border were damn’d; that every Burns where Deva spread the guilty of pain.

               101

Into my Rose; yea, sweet, with religion meets my soul in you most coupled be; there is lost both of stones I hastly gave such sort as, the bird trapped in the and faire day I think that speedier bloom thence, where are not hear my hand he like those two love still and sound where contemplating his Doric lay; if only should be out of the Sun. Let all the cold winds the still, that hang the love in like these ladies’ lucubrations you were damn’d; that dark and thence, which hath his woman, if you open stoop to hate which it came out into the starting that it should I devour’d by Gods eternal day.

[umbralsound-xiv]

Unbearable.

She was finally well enough for me to comfortably leave the house and restock on groceries. I was not long; as fast as i could be, but thought to pick up a few extra things on my outing...

An armful of groceries clutched to his chest, Eir exhales a pleased sigh. It was the first time he'd been beyond the threshold of the garden in more than a sennight, and though he was happy for the necessary outing, just as happy he was to have returned home. Wedging his elbow onto the handle, he manages to shuffle into their home, closing the door behind him as he stood upright once again in the kitchen. "I am home, my Moon!" He calls, pacing towards the countertop to set the armload of things down.

The sound of the door brings Sayuri to a pause, ears perking up and twisting a touch until Eir's voice graces them - prompting a small wiggle and a smile. She settles her pencil down upon the table next to her and scoots herself off the stool in her little art studio, skipping several steps of the staircase leading up to it until she reaches solid ground, and heads for the next set of stairs. "Welcome hooome." She half-sings, as she climbs the stairs to reach the floor above.

A handful of apples spill from one of the bags, quickly captured by Eir who settles them into a nearby fruitbowl. A few more things are put away here and there, turning his head over his shoulder to greet his wife with a smile as she pulled into view. "I… May have gone a little overboard on the shopping, but there were so many nice things on offer that i could hardly refuse…" Turning to another bag, he swiftly plucks something from the top of it, setting it behind his back where he'd hoped it wasn't seen. "I have a little surprise for you, also…"

Sayuri's gaze passes over the bags before settling on Eir, lips pulled into a soft smile. "We can afford it." She hums, head tilting curiously as he hides his hands behind his back. ".. What did you get?" She asks as she approaches, body leaning sideways as if she's trying to peek behind him.

"Only a little something." Eir leans the other way to block her view with a grin, pulling out a small bouquet of flowers from the other side to offer to her. Vibrant blue lilies and snowy little brightflowers adorn the posy, sweet-smelling and fresh. "…I promised to bring you flowers more often. I have not forgotten."

She pouts faintly as he blocks her view, yet the pout swiftly shifts into an expression of surprise as the bouquet is brought forth. Her eyes widen and ears tilt back a touch, the corners of her mouth digging downwards while her eyes seemingly threaten to water up. ".. Oh, Eir.." She murmurs, fingers gently curling around it to accept the gift. "That's so sweet.. Thank you." The flowers are brought to the side as her free arm reaches for him, seeking to embrace him.

"Not half as sweet as you. I am glad you like them." Eir hums a smile, pressing a kiss into the crown of her hair as he leaned into the embrace. "How are you feeling, this sun?" Eir asks, giving her a gentle squeeze before relinquishing her to attend to the tidying of groceries. "No other side effects, now the treatment is complete…?"

"I believe we already had that discussion a few suns past, hm?" She smiles, nudging her face against him for a moment before releasing him. She settles her attention on the dining table, where a vacant vase is conveniently placed - and swiftly becomes the new home of the flowers. "None, thank the Gods." She exhales sharply. "Some.. less than pleasant dreams, but.. that's not a side effect." A small pause, as she gently turns the flowers here and there to make it more aesthetically pleasing to look at. "I've gone so long trying not to use my aether that I'm struggling a little bit with the amount used, but it shouldn't take long to figure out."

"…I figured as much. I held you throughout them, if it is any comfort. You were… Colder than normal, though. Or perhaps i am just unused to the aether again. Not cold enough i would let go, mind." With everything away in the icebox, Eir sighs peacefully, folding up the bags to set away for another sun. "…But it does not hurt, yes? It… It worked?"

".. Is there such a thing as me being cold enough for you to let go?" Sayuri smiles, turning to face him. "Painless. Q'kura.. fulfilled his promise."

She could never be cold enough for me to let her go. I would never leave her, no matter what. I am... Glad, all is back to as it was, more or less, and surely the aether should settle down soon... It is just so... Good, to see her happy. Without pain.

"…He did. About the only good he has ever done." He closes the gap to gently lace his arms around her. "…And no. Never. Any cold you could give me would not feel half as cold as your absence."

"I was hesitant to let him treat me.. But Bexy certainly would have torn him apart if he did more damage to me. If you didn't get to him first." She hums, wrapping her arms around him in return.

Eir leans in to press his lips to her own in a soft, loving kiss. "…I am glad it did not come to that. Though…" A small pause, as some small curiosity shifts over Eir's expression. "…What will be his fate, now?"

Sayuri gently presses her lips back against his, a low, thoughtful hum leaving her. ".. There.. has been talk of possibly using him to get those like Vex out.." She pauses. ".. And while I am thankful that he fixed me, I.. still want to rip his head off for what he did to you.."

"…Which is understandable." Eir nudges his nose gently to her own. "…Suppose using him for the freedom of others is no bad thing. I do not care either way what his fate might be. A simple curiosity, is all. I am content simply never to see him again."

I meant it truthfully. I just want him to be gone, and out of our lives. I want to be left in as much peace as we are able. I know it will not always last, but i knew this when i chose her. I do not regret it for a second, but that does not mean i do not wish for as quiet a life as i can hope for.

She smiles faintly, offering a gentle nudge back. ".. It's worth doing, I think. Get the others who are there by force out.. And if he decides to run headlong back to the compound and not help them.. His fate is sealed, and I will kill him the next chance I get. But if he does help get them out..? I don't know.."

"…We can come to that conclusion if he succeeds." Eir murmurs, rocking Sayuri gently in his arms. "For now, we need not think of such things. I have you… And you have me. What would you like to do, this sun, my Moon?"

".. I'd like for him to succeed. Vex seems quite intent on getting that Seeker out.. The one.. both of you kept me from killing in the hallways of the compound. And.. his sister, I think she said..?" She furrows a brow, rocking with him. ".. It's hard not to, with.. everything that has happened.." She mumbles, ears tilting back a touch before she shakes her head in some attempt to settle nicer thoughts in her head. "Mmh.. I started drawing, while you were out.. but now I don't want to let go of you."

"…I hope he does. He was kind to me… And a large part we were able to escape. Were i any more wounded…" Eir opts to dismiss that thought, forehead pressed to her own. "…Oh? Drawing, hm?" Groceries away, Eir sees picking Sayuri up as the only sensible thing to do in the moment. "Well, now you need not let go of me. And i would like to see."

A small frown finds its way to her features, arms tightening around him while her chill picks up, just a touch. ".. Vex said his--" She pauses, opting to use the word whether or not she was right. ".. sister, helped incite the fight that served as the distraction, too." Her ears flick as her feet leave the floor, finding herself in Eir's arms - as she often does. ".. I mean--.. Fair enough."

"…Even if it fails. They will be freed, somehow…" Eir replies, though clearly not exactly sure for how that would happen, slowly descending the stairs with her in his arms. "…What were you drawing?"

".. Will they?" Sayuri asks, her tone not particularly hopeful. Again, she shakes her head and forces a tiny smile. ".. Us." A small pause, then. ".. I promised my mother a painting of the two of us in our wedding attires. It's still in the sketching stage, though."

"Well, now i want to see even more." A few steps bring him to the lower room, and his gaze casts back up to the small alcove that had become Sayuri's studio. "She will be happy to see it, i am sure."

A soft snicker leaves her, head leaning against him. "I'm sure I'll receive a pearl call from Masashi letting me know how my mother won't stop gushing over it." She flaunts a small smirk. ".. I'm going to make a smaller version for us to keep, too."

"…We can hang it on the wall somewhere. I will fawn over it in your absence." Eir half-jokes, offering a grin as he ascends the smaller staircase, gently setting Sayuri back on her feet. "…Can i see?"

"I don't doubt that for a moment." She snickers. She reluctantly releases him as she's put on her feet, one hand gesturing to the set up canvas that holds a half-finished sketch of the two, depicting them the day of their wedding.

"…It looks lovely. Moreso when it will be finished, i am sure…" Eir gently settles a hand on her shoulder, smiling fondly at the work in progress. "Shall i wait until you have finished to take our little trip to La Noscea, then?"

It is a lovely reminder of that sun, as though i do not wear it on my finger each and every day. To see us both radiant and happy without measure... She has such talent, when it comes to art.

Sayuri's head tilts to the side to nudge at the hand on her shoulder, smiling softly. "It shouldn't take too long."

"…I know. Asides, we will have to pack a few things, first. And we should perhaps eat the food i brought home before going anywhere…" Eir laughs, shaking his head. "…What should we have for dinner, this sun? Any preference?"

".. Proooobably." She snickers, gazing up at him. ".. Hmm.. No, I don't really have a preference."

"Well, i am sure we will think of something." Eir glances to the room, considering. "…I was out a little longer than i wanted to be. Perhaps i should make a lighter lunch of some description?" He asks, taking the first few steps down in that direction.

Sayuri spins on her heels and halfly skips down the steps, snickering quietly at her own little childish display. "Mmh? Works for me."

Eir grins at her little spin, hand extended for her to take as he made way back to the kitchen. "Perhaps a salad of some sort. The weather is getting a little warmer. Perhaps we can have a little picnic in the garden?" Eir asks, a little hopeful.

Her hand reaches to grasp his, squeezing it gently as they wandered back upstairs. "That sounds lovely." She beams. "..Can we have some fruit in it?"

"Of course! What would you like? We have peaches, rolanberries, pomegranate, oranges, apples…" Eir considers, quietly as he steps into the kitchen. "---Grapes, too. Oh! Raspberries. I… Ah…" He glances aside, hesitantly. "…May have overdone it on the fruit." Settled on the side, is a small, flat parcel wrapped in paper, yet to be uncovered.

Sayuri smiles, head tilting. "We can afford it." She reminds. "Hmm.. How about, some peaches, oranges and grapes?" Her gaze briefly acknowledges the parcel, before returning to Eir.

"Hah! Did you want a fruit salad instead? We surely could." Eir laughs, before his gaze follows hers. "--Ah, i managed to find this when i was out…" Picking the parcel up, it is unwrapped to reveal a simple plate. "…A replacement, for the other sun."

".. Then we should add more types of fruit." She simply responds to his question; a fruit salad certainly seeming appealing to her. Her features drop a touch at the sight of the plate, ears tilting back as she stares at it almost uncomfortably long. Dread swiftly accompanies the stare and she whips around to stare out the window as her aether stirs, the temperature around her dropping significantly and slightly jagged ice swiftly springing forth along her forearms, covering them from wrist to elbow in the blink of an eye.

Eir is halfway through settling the plate away when he notes the drop, immediately abandoning it on the side to rush to her own. "---Sayuri?" He asks, hands hovering half above her to slowly sit on her shoulders. "What… What is wrong?" Fear settled in his gaze, then. "…What is happening?"

Her... Her aether is surging once more, i... I do not know why, but it is so much... More, than it was. It rarely happens so fast unless she is upset, but she... She was fine, until a few moments ago. Happy, even... I... I do not understand... But i am worried.

Sayuri blinks, ears twisting as she turns her head back to Eir - glimpsing the ice on her arms. "--Ah-.. I-.." She swallows harshly, eyes shutting. ".. I'm okay. It's-.. it's just the.. memory of the hallucinations.." She mumbles. Despite the minor attempt of reassurance, the ice does the exact opposite of decreasing; spreading further up along her biceps and coating her hands. The floor isn't safe, either, as it begins to spread out from underneath her feet.

"No---no no. It is okay, yes? You are safe… You are safe…" Despite the ice, he attempts to pull her into an embrace, avoiding it as best he could, a faint crunch underfoot as he stepped upon it. "I am here, Sayuri…"

...The ice usually avoids my feet at her control, but she did say keeping it in line was more... Difficult. ...I am here, my Moon. I am not going anywhere, no matter what.

"..I-.. I know.." She presses her head against him to return the affection as she's pulled into his embrace, arms remaining down to keep the jagged edges away from him. ".. I know that it was just hallucinations, and yet.. They just.. felt so real.." She half-whispers, ears locking in their pinned state. Speaking of it only triggers the memory further, sending her into a downwards spiral that makes the air around her drop more and more, all while the ice continues to spread across the floor and her body at an unusually rapid pace, the spiky edges becoming a little sharper. Sayuri keeps her head buried against him, not yet having realised exactly how bad the ice is getting.

"…I know… I know…" Eir's gaze dances over the ice as it spreads, holding her closer, fighting the pained wince in his teeth as the cold sank into him. "I-it is okay. I am here. I am here, and i am… N-not letting go…" He exhales a wavery breath, then. "…You are… A-allowed to be afraid…"

The stutter is enough to make Sayuri lift her head and open her eyes - only for them to widen further at the sight of the expanding frost. "--A-ah!" The sound that leaves her is one of both surprise and worry, the anxiety opting to rear its head much more and at the sight of the sharper edges, the fear of hurting her husband kicking in, and only worsening the cold. "--E-Eir.." Her body tenses up as if she's afraid to move.

"I am here, i am here… I…" He glances around, not moving an ilm otherwise. "I am not going anywhere. Wh---What do you need? Sayuri?" He asks, the panic in his voice not doing anything to help matters.

I am supposed to know what she needs, i am her husband, i... ...How... How can i help her?

"..L-let go.." A set of words that clearly pains her to say, further showcased by the tears that immediately take to her eyes and freeze to her cheeks the moment they start to fall. "..I-.. I can't--.. I don't want to h-hurt you.." She swallows the sorrow harshly, desperately trying to get a firmer grip of her aether that threatens to burst out of her control.

Eir, does not in fact let go. He does loose his grip a little, however. "You will not hurt me, Sayuri. You will not---" The tone of her voice, the situation is enough to well his own eyes with tears, desperate to stay close even with the threat of injury. "Y-you will not…" A wavery breath full of desperation, as ice snakes over the walls, slowly taking the room. "Please… T-tell me how i can help you…"

Let go? No, no i... I promised, i promised i would be here... That i would not let go, that i would not leave her to face this on her own...!

"..E-Eir please.." It leaves her with a sob, the mere thought of hurting him only worsening her distress. Snaked up the walls and even up to the ceiling, icicles form along any edge it can find - Sayuri's struggle to keep it under control seeing the razor sharp edges dulling out only to shift back into their natural spikiness.

That plea is enough for him to let go, but he doesn't retreat from her. "P-please, tell me what i have to do, i… i…" Utterly lost for how to help, he looks around the room, fearful and afraid of the icy dwelling it was slowly becoming. "S-sayuri…!" He watches, as the ice snakes over her body, sharpened edges retreating before they extended into points once more as she struggled.

Sayuri withdraws a few steps, letting her see the room more properly, clearly not happy with what she sees. "I-.. I don't know!" She balls her hands into fists and pins her eyes shut in an attempt to focus, fighting to draw back the ice that creeps back ever so slightly, only to burst back forth even further than before. "..G-gods.."

"S-sayuri!" Eir calls out in desperation, but not for a moment does he run from her. If anything, he takes half a step towards her, reaching out as though he'd take her hand. "I am here, please, please, i swear i am not going anywhere…" Tears spill down his cheeks, fighting to keep some composure for his distressed wife. "I w-want to help…"

She staggers a step back in response to him getting closer. "--N-no!" Sayuri sobs, clearly worried about being close to him when she holds no control of the volatile aether. "..I-.. I w-will hurt you.. I can't-.. I can't c-control this.."

"Y-you will not… You will not…" He chants like a mantra, but after her response does not move after her, then. "Y-you would never hurt me, Sayuri… I…" His voice had fled into a distressed whimper, then. "I.. I do not k-know what to do…"

She would never hurt me. She would never. I trust her. Even in moments like this when her ice rages and... I have never seen it this bad, i trust her, but i... ...What good am i, if i cannot help her?!

Sayuri's gaze locks at the ice-clad floor for a moment, lingering there until she opts to pat along her pockets, peeling away some ice from herself in order to reach the little box within that holds the various linkpearls she owns. She simply clutches it for a moment. "..N-not willingly.. but t-this..? I-.. I c-can't.." A sob is choked back, the box flicked open and one of the linkpearls retrieved before it snaps shut again.

"I…" That single word is a sad, defeated sound, barely above a breath as he watches her reach for the pearls. He doesn't try to stop her, of course not, merely casting a glance to the plate he'd attempted to return to where it aught to have belonged. Eir keeps his quiet, looking away, awaiting the pearl call he knew would come.

The pearl is placed in her ear, Sayuri takes a moment to try to calm herself, failing rather spectacularly. Finally, she commits to pressing down on it. ".. B-Bexy..?"

[Eir] ...Of course she would call for her sister. Someone who can help her. Someone who has... Never failed her. It hurt. But i know i am being selfish. I... I just wanted to be able to help her...

There's a brief silence, before the fumbling of sound, and the response that came just moments after in Bexy's concerned tone. "Sayuri?" Her name was a greeting and a question, both. "…Is everything alright?" With the tone she used, it was clear she had already assumed she wasn't, the sound of footfalls on a wooden floor sounding soon after she spoke.

[Bexy] With a greeting like that, i know everything isn't. I was already on my way there. She wouldn't have called me like this if it wasn't urgent. What happened, Sayuri? I swear, if this is Q'kura's doing, i'll peel him like an apple.

Sayuri bites down to choke a sob. "..N-no.." It leaves her like a mere whisper, barely audible if it weren't for the fact it was spoken through a linkpearl. "..My-.. my a-aether.."

"I'll be there in a moment." Her voice drops into something a little firmer, some angry edge hiding behind it which she swallows for the moment, before the pearl cuts away into quiet, again.

A quiet Eir doesn't even interrupt. He remains away from her, though slowly his tear filled gaze pulls from the plate, back to her eyes, pleading.

[Eir] I wish i had not bought that stupid plate. We could have lived without it for a while. At least let the moment settle before buying a replacement. What was i thinking?

Sayuri's hand drops from her ear as the call cuts, her face burying into her palms. She rocks back and forth on her spot, desperately wanting nothing more than to find her way back into her husband's arms, but denying herself the need out of fear of hurting him.

"S-sayuri..?" Eir's voice is just as upset, but he slowly steps over an icicle to grow a little closer to her. The hand is offered again, frown etched onto his features. "…I I am h-here…"

Her hands drop down once more, teary gaze moving to him and settling on his hand. She notably hesitates, yet ends up slowly stretching her hand out towards his, even if she shows no signs to go any further than holding his hand. "..I'm s-sorry.."

He takes her hand like it's the most precious thing he's ever held, gently, delicately curling his fingers through hers. "I am here…" Eir manages, tears pouring down his cheeks. "I am n-not going anywhere."

Her icy fingers interlace with his, and she visibly struggles to keep herself from getting any closer. At this point, jagged ice coats every part of the upper floor, icicles hanging from the ceiling.

Eir's gaze drifts from her face, to their entwined hands, to the ice that now formed over the room, claiming every surface. "…I am the one who s-should be sorry…" Eir whispers, after what feels like an eternity in the quiet… Until footfalls approach the front door.

[Eir] Sorry for not knowing what to do. Sorry for not doing more. I... Feel like such a failure.

Bexy reaches for the handle, and upon trying to enter, realises it will not move an ilm at her touch. A short burst of aether later to diffuse what clung to the door, she steps inside, eyes widening immediately at the sight before her, before falling on the couple. "…I'm here. What… Happened?"

Sayuri shakes her head slightly at Eir's words, squeezing his hand carefully. Her gaze falls to Bexy as she steps through the door, ears flat on her skull. "..I-.. got emotional.." Eyes dipping to the floor, a shaky exhale leaves her. ".. I c-can't control it.."

At the mention of emotional, her eyes dart, almost accusatory, towards Eir and the hand he held, but doesn't comment. She strides across the room, ice parting for her boots, and dispersing some of the larger icicles she came into contact with. "…When did this start?" She asks, now at Sayuri's other side. "…Does it hurt?"

[Bexy] ...I don't see this often. Not this bad. Not enough to fill a room. What did you do, Eir? What... What happened? ...No, no, this... This probably isn't his fault, else he'd either be dead or they certainly wouldn't be holding hands. She needs to be calm. Calm enough for this to go away...

"..N-not that long b-before I c-called.." Her aether fights to retake the area where Bexy dispersed the ice, despite Sayuri's attempt to keep it from the attempt. She shakes her head at her question. "..N-no, I just-.. can't.. control it.."

"Right… Okay. Okay…" Bexy takes a breath, gently laying a hand on Sayuri's shoulder, unafraid of the ice that drew close to her. "Q'kura babbled something about your aether perhaps being a little wild after the recovery, but i think he was understating it. You can't hold it back? At all?" She notes Eir, how he was stood upon the ice, rather than a small area that would routinely avoid him as it usually did.

Eir does not let go of Sayuri's hand, looking pleadingly to Bexy. "She… She has been a little colder since treatment finished, but… Not like t-this…"

Again, her head shook. She inhales deeply and fights for a grasp of her own aether in an attempt to force it to retreat - achieving only the same as she did last time, the ice creeping back ever so slightly and then bursting back forth once more, to which a weary exhale leaves Sayuri.

Bexy's expression knits into something more perplexed, feeling the repression of Sayuri's aether through contact with her… And just how violently it surged forth when she could no longer keep it back so far. "…You are holding it back." Bexy's gaze traces the room, a little wide-eyed. "-This is- holding it back…!" An anxious swallow, as she reaches for Sayuri's hand, then. "We have to go, Sayuri. We have to go now."

[Bexy] ...I can feel how much she's restraining it. If she lets go, in here... I'll be fine, but Eir... ...She'd never live with the guilt of harming him, never mind worse. We have to go. For her safety, and his. I've endured this before, and i took Laurent's fingers for it. I won't let her do the same.

Eir doesn't say anything, so much as he makes a sound. A fearful, anxious whine that sees him hold her other hand that much tighter, eyes setting on Bexy's own. It was clear to anyone who could see him, he did not want her to go.

Sayuri's eyes flutter, a touch bewildered as Bexy grabs her hand. "--G-go..?" The grip she has of Eir's hand doesn't budge, for now.

"Go." Bexy repeats, teeth a little gritted. "Sayuri, you can't hold this back forever. I know it, you know it. We have to go to Coerthas, let this out safely before it gets worse." Her eyes settle on Eir, then, narrowing a little.

[Eir] Go? Go... Go where? No, no no no... Bexy, please...! Please don't take her from me!

Eir's protest is silent but present. He holds her hand just as tightly.

Sayuri's tears well up anew. She knew, of course.. And even if she hadn't known, she trusted Bexy's judgement. Her eyes slip to Eir, a faint whimper leaving her.

That look sends a pang of desperation through Eir, then. "I---I d-do not want you to go---!" The admission spills out of his lips, ears lowering on his head. He knew, too, as much as he didn't want to admit it.

"Eir." Bexy's mention of his name is almost a reprimand. "Do you want her to hurt you?"

[Bexy] For the love of the Twelve, don't make this any harder than it already needs to be! She'll be fine. I'll bring her back. I know what i'm doing. ...I have to know what i'm doing. I bring them back, i always do. ...And yet, after all they've been through, i can hardly be mad at him for not wanting her to go. But she has to.

Sayuri's gaze drops to the floor, the air around her becoming significantly colder.

"---She will not! She would not!" Eir pleaded, pulling Sayuri just a step closer to him, and away from Bexy. "T-there must be something you can do, that…"

"Eir." Bexy interrupts. "She would not, under normal circumstances. This?" A gloved hand gestures out at the ice-covered room. "This is not normal!"

Sayuri staggers at the pull, gaze lifting back to her husband. "..E-Eir.."

"I… I…" Tears spill over again, terrified of releasing her hand. "Sayuri…" Her name was a plea, but what for, he doesn't quite know.

Bexy simply allows Sayuri to do the convincing for her, if it would work at all. If not, she had other plans…

".. I l-love you, so much.." She starts, squeezing his hand. "..B-but you know she's r-right.. I-.. I can't.. keep this away f-from you.." She bites back a sob, eyes resting more steadily upon Eir. ".. I'd n-never forgive myself if I h-hurt you.."

[Eir] No, no no... Sayuri, please, i... ...I am scared. I do not want to lose you, but i do not want you to harbor the guilt you would feel if you hurt me. I... I still do not think you would... I do not want you to go. I do not. But i... I understand. ...I am scared.

All Eir can do is sob, and fight the frown that so fiercely downturned his lips as his gaze shone with sorrow. "I… I know. I know, i… I love you too. I l-love you so much…" He gently caresses her hand in his own, turning that tear-stricken gaze to Bexy, then. "…Bring her back." He asks, though it's more of a demand, strung with sorrow and pain for her leaving.

"I always do, Eir." Came her response. It had softened a little from their interaction, though there would be no way she would reconsider her actions.

[Bexy] If the wedding wasn't telling enough, seeing this display was enough to convince me how much he loves her. Gods, it... ...It hurt to watch, even if i knew what i was doing was for the better. I'll bring her back, i promise.

Sayuri keeps her grip of his hand a little longer, reluctant to let go as she gently runs her thumb over his knuckles - certainly no happier about the situation. Soon enough, she slowly eases her grip of him and begins to pull her hand back.

His lip trembles as her hand parts, bringing the newly freed palm against his chest, as though he saught to cherish the feeling of it. "B-Bexy…" Eir looked over to her. "Please… L-look after her…"

"…I will. To the very best of my ability. I will have her returned home to your side as soon as i'm able." Her promise was sincere, offering a small, if not reassuring smile. "…I promise."

Sayuri fights a pained smile. ".. I'll be b-back before you k-know it.."

Eir moves as though he'd lean in for an embrace, a kiss; anything. But instead he pulls back, forcing himself to bring distance between them. "I… I w-will be here." He sniffles, forcing a smile right back. "W-waiting, as a-always."

Wary of the upset caused by parting, Bexy pulls Sayuri back just a little. "…We have to go." Bexy quietly reminds, flashing both of them an apologetic look.

Sayuri's ears droop, gaze shifting to Bexy before her head sinks into a small nod.

"I… I l-love you…" Eir's words were stammered out, eyes glassy and tearful.

"…I'll bring her back soon, Eir. I promise." Bexy repeats, as her aether surges, beginning to muster the effort needed to dissipate the two of them and whisk them away to distant Coerthas.

"I love y-you too.." Sayuri is quick to respond, before Bexy steals her away.

As Bexy vanishes; so too does the majority of the ice, leaving only a few of the icicles and a flurry of snow in their absence.

Eir, now alone, sobs quietly to himself, reaching for one of the icicles left in their wake.

How long would it be, until he felt her cold again…?

[Bexy] I hope he understands what i'm doing is a kindness. Better than her hurting him. Better than her burdening herself with the guilt of doing so. She'll be okay. She's come this far. I always bring everyone home.

[myflowertree1]

Blooms of Empowerment: Celebrating Women's Day with Flowers

In a world adorned with a kaleidoscope of flowers, each bloom whispers tales of resilience, beauty, and strength—attributes shared by women worldwide. As International Women's Day approaches, it's time to adorn this celebration of femininity with the timeless elegance of flowers. Beyond mere petals and stems, these floral arrangements carry profound symbolism, embodying the essence of womanhood in all its glory.

Throughout history, flowers have been intertwined with the narrative of women's empowerment. From the suffragette movement's violet posies to the delicate blossoms adorning feminist literature, flowers have served as silent messengers of solidarity and strength. In celebrating Women's Day, they become more than just botanical wonders—they become ambassadors of empowerment, speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

Roses, with their exquisite petals and intoxicating fragrance, stand as a timeless symbol of love, passion, and courage. A bouquet of red roses, presented on women's day flowers, not only expresses admiration but also serves as a tribute to the indomitable spirit of women who have fearlessly pursued their dreams and aspirations.

Lilies, with their pristine beauty and graceful allure, symbolize purity, renewal, and the unyielding resilience of the female spirit. As we honor the achievements of women past and present, a bouquet of lilies serves as a poignant reminder of the transformative power of perseverance and determination.

The vibrant hues of tulips evoke a sense of vitality, optimism, and strength—a fitting representation of the boundless potential inherent in every woman. Whether gifted individually or arranged in a dazzling bouquet, tulips celebrate the multifaceted nature of womanhood, embracing diversity and individuality with open arms.

Orchids, with their exotic charm and enchanting allure, exude elegance, sophistication, and empowerment. As we commemorate Women's Day, the delicate beauty of orchids serves as a tribute to the myriad talents, achievements, and contributions of women across the globe.

Beyond their aesthetic appeal, flowers possess a unique ability to uplift the human spirit and ignite a sense of joy and inspiration. In celebrating Women's Day with flowers, we not only pay homage to the extraordinary women who have shaped our world but also reaffirm our commitment to gender equality, inclusivity, and empowerment.

Moreover, supporting women-owned florist businesses adds another layer of significance to the gesture. By patronizing establishments owned and operated by women, we contribute to the economic empowerment and advancement of female entrepreneurs, fostering a more inclusive and equitable society for future generations.

As we embark on this journey of celebrating womanhood, let us not forget the invaluable contributions of women from all walks of life—mothers, daughters, sisters, friends, colleagues, and trailblazers. Whether through grand gestures or small acts of kindness, let us honor and uplift the women who enrich our lives each day, recognizing that their strength, resilience, and compassion are the true flowers that bloom eternal.

In essence, Women's Day flowers serve as a poignant reminder of the remarkable journey of womanhood—a journey marked by triumphs, challenges, and endless possibilities. So, as we gather to commemorate this special occasion, let us do so with bouquets in hand, hearts full of gratitude, and spirits ablaze with the promise of a brighter, more equitable future for all.

[carlepalumbo]

Blooming Beauties: Flower Delivery Services in St. Albans

Imagine the joy of receiving a vibrant bouquet at your doorstep, each bloom telling a story of love, friendship, or celebration. In St. Albans, the floral scene is thriving, offering a kaleidoscope of options for those seeking to add a touch of nature's beauty to their lives. Let's embark on a fragrant journey through the flourishing world of flower delivery services in this charming city.

The Floral Tapestry of St. Albans

St. Albans, with its picturesque landscapes and a community that appreciates nature's wonders, provides an ideal backdrop for a diverse array of flowers. From classic roses to exotic orchids, the local florists craft arrangements that cater to every taste and occasion.

Petals & Posies: Crafting Memories, Petal by Petal

Nestled in the heart of St. Albans, Petals & Posies stands out for its personalized approach to floral design. Whether you're expressing condolences or celebrating a joyous event, their skilled florists weave emotions into each arrangement.

Blossom Boutique: Where Elegance Meets Bloom

For those seeking sophistication in floral arrangements, Blossom Boutique is the go-to choice. Their curated selection of premium flowers and stylish designs adds a touch of elegance to any setting. It's not just a bouquet; it's an artistic statement.

The Convenience of Flower Delivery: A Petal-Perfect Solution

In our fast-paced lives, convenience is key. Luckily, St. Albans boasts a range of flower delivery services that bring the beauty of blooms right to your doorstep.

Speedy Blooms: Swift, Stunning, and Simply Superb

When time is of the essence, Speedy Blooms lives up to its name. With a commitment to swift deliveries without compromising on quality, they ensure that your floral surprise reaches its destination in perfect condition.

Bouquet Express: Expressing Love, One Bouquet at a Time

Bouquet Express takes pride in transforming ordinary moments into extraordinary memories. Their express delivery service adds an element of surprise, making it the perfect choice for spontaneous gestures of affection.

The Language of Flowers: Decoding Floral Symbolism

Beyond their aesthetic appeal, flowers convey a language of their own. Understanding the symbolism behind each bloom adds a layer of thoughtfulness to your floral gifts.

Roses: More Than Just Red Petals

While red roses traditionally symbolize love, did you know that each hue carries a unique meaning? White signifies purity, yellow exudes friendship, and pink conveys admiration. Choose your roses wisely, and let the language of love blossom.

Lilies: Embracing Tranquility and Renewal

Lilies, with their graceful petals, symbolize renewal and the restored innocence of the soul. Sending a bouquet of lilies speaks volumes about your wishes for peace and tranquility.

Sustainable Blooms: A Greener Approach to Gifting

In an era of environmental consciousness, many flower delivery services in St. Albans are embracing sustainability. Choose eco-friendly options that make both you and Mother Earth smile.

GreenThumb Blooms: Blooming Responsibly

GreenThumb Blooms takes pride in their sustainable practices. From ethically sourced flowers to eco-friendly packaging, they ensure that your gesture of love leaves a positive impact on the planet.

Floral Fusion: Where Sustainability Meets Style

Floral Fusion combines style with a conscience. Their eco-conscious designs not only look stunning but also contribute to the well-being of the environment. It's a win-win for the recipient and the planet.

DIY Floral Delights: Unleash Your Inner Florist

For those who love a hands-on approach, St. Albans offers options to create your own floral masterpieces.

Budding Artists: Workshops for Floral Enthusiasts

Budding Artists, a local floral workshop, invites enthusiasts to channel their creativity. Join their workshops to learn the art of floral arrangement, adding a personal touch to your gifts.

Floral DIY Kits: Crafting Blooms at Your Fingertips

Can't make it to a workshop? No worries! Explore the Floral DIY Kits offered by local florists. Unleash your inner florist at home, creating bespoke arrangements with step-by-step guidance.

The Aroma of Surprise: Subscription Services for Ongoing Delight

Why limit the joy of flowers to special occasions? Subscription services in St. Albans allow you to enjoy the beauty of blooms regularly.

Bouquet Bliss: A Monthly Floral Affair

Bouquet Bliss offers monthly subscriptions, ensuring a fresh bouquet arrives at your doorstep like clockwork. It's an ongoing celebration of nature's beauty, right in the comfort of your home.

Seasonal Surprises: Ever-Changing Bouquets

Opt for seasonal subscriptions from local florists like Seasonal Surprises. Experience the delight of ever-changing blooms, mirroring the beauty of each season.

Occasions to Blossom: Flowers for Every Celebration

From birthdays to anniversaries, the variety of flowers available in St. Albans ensures that you can find the perfect bouquet for every occasion.

Birthday Blooms: Adding Color to Celebrations

Bright and cheerful blooms from Birthday Blooms add a burst of color to birthday celebrations. Customize your bouquet to reflect the personality of the birthday star.

Anniversary Elegance: Timeless Tokens of Love

For anniversaries, choose timeless elegance with Anniversary Elegance. Their classic arrangements speak volumes about enduring love and commitment.

Just Because Flowers: Spontaneity in Bloom

Who says you need a reason to send flowers? Just Because Flowers specializes in spontaneous gestures, turning ordinary days into extraordinary ones with a surprise bloom.

Conclusion: Let Your Love Blossom

In the enchanting city of St. Albans, flower delivery services are not just about petals and stems; they're about crafting moments, expressing emotions, and adding a touch of nature to everyday life. Whether you opt for a speedy delivery, eco-friendly blooms, or a DIY approach, let your love blossom through the vibrant and diverse floral tapestry this city has to offer. Blooming beauties await, ready to transform your gestures into fragrant memories.

[alchemisland]

Craft

I – Old But Recent Craft

I make pollicitations to cunning bards past,

Place of old poets thy Parnassian pasts immortal

Your past-prime virtues now victuals to vexers who make you victims of gaunt learning or love-chagrinning solar sojourns.

In dissecting I seek to neither venerate nor eviscerate,

My lancet taps ichor and flowing essential claret extravasates into my peering vessel.

Thy outmoded phrase mould-grown with distant expiry

No narrative celerity, thesauring see-saw dramatics a periodical demands,

Every week three periods peering at readers from third-page’s bottom,

Thrills tamed by time and taste once titillating tedious in this time.

Thy foliate phrase, verbiage of verdigris lassos vellum psalters,

Thy posies a peony petal, all peacock and whorl and headdress whore,

Paean the paintaker, Olympians admit pain to him and that’s power,

Your prosody pain admits, therefore healing;

Thy hidden candour rebuffed at new millennium’s limen.

Though your age is gone your undimmed beauty hymns its genius;

Plain wonders have no want of sophisticated oration, your watchmaker exactitude.

Yet thy lofty compilation succours, common experience inalienable shouted across time;

Grasp solution from trials of antient persons,

Relay race of determined ancestors going to the edge of where they could;

Meeting the next; handing over the bundle; doggedly going on to the edge of where they could;

Chipped statue by whose feet I find tucked tools and a book of knowledge,

What next but to begin eking out its remainder.

Go now in peace.

Let nephew-taken arms be guided back to bedchambers.

Now, you have not even a ghost’s power to stir a naked flame,

I kiss your head, extinguish it for you then take your bundle,

Old things put to bed the poet’s pasture,

Portcullis rumbling closed; nyctinasty of shutting lids.

II – Abilities

Thy craft lend,

Blend fire and sight,

Twin utterance and song.

Elucidate right and wrong ways:

No nobled blood shall in pitying patronage let me a manse’s reign (though I would accept kindness); if ere my Rilken silks theretrod and heard the poem-rousing voice of One sublime,

What slithered forth would little pertain to angels or their kin;

Less of spheres, more of fears, of swarthy firesouled Djinn.

Poets old, lend fire to sight,

Born-drab wonders burgeoning blessings in birdfeather.

Helmetless pollard of hewn head foment fruitful trees.

Thy azure fontange sublimes, easy harmony highway of momentary animals graced by Peace.

You, most beautiful bard, goddess-regarding Minyan;

Three’s minion, golden means, many-death man of rhymes;

Welch Fusilier, cruiserweight bruiser, Claudian evocator.

Divine day isle of Deia, forth from Graves

Ridge of your grave peeking bird-nest head.

III. Pig Dreams

I wish I had been born a boar before scribes at history pawed,

Roamed landscapes untouched save for His indelible signature.

Sent between scents bounding boyish

No more to wonder what has meaning, lost amidst sensuous rapture.

Copse busy with never-stood-still, circled by timeless rings of never-moved.

No more to wonder but to wander;

Meaning forge no more, nor dreaming;

No more to lie abed dreading day’s dredging.

Escaping quietly as an anxious is elation. 

Crowd huddled in a pleasure dome which I am far outside

Rain hits rim and bounces off, their words against my pride. 

No more abed dreading day, hoping dawn’s netted dappling knells my demise.

Dare toward the dredgings of the day, for dusk will dive regardless 

Strive to be innocent of mortality, living immortally 

Though at birth they cut my stem and watched my slow death unfold 

I will make lofty plans which a sage’s duration could not fulfil,

Embracing deterioration of accomplishment

Teasing out music from wreckage, bent fender vespers

At roadside rent asunder wonders warped wonderfully.

What has definition finds further definition; finds distinction; sublimes.

IV – Bindweed Lilies Near The Hospital

Six summers gleeful still, plucking bindweed lilies from grille-gemmed hedges,

Flowers plucked quickly die but how stationed this demise,

Work of ages accomplished momentarily:

White petals sprout spreading brown veins

Until limp and lined its back-peeled diameters meet;

My birth and death and that between duration of wind-pushed flames. 

The music lasts just its moment but we rarely weep its close.

Each life the span of a universe’s most ambitious empire yet,

Exceeding forebears in extent, fanned-cards of possibly destinies.

Exhausted fate and errant miraculous presiding,

Placing bindweed lilies into the empty vase on the crying lady’s table,

Silks and satins and soft words.

Unbudged font of mercy,

What every woman and no man knows, that lilies are not children. 

[incubategrowth1]

The Transformative Journey of Self Development: A Blueprint for Personal Growth

In the pursuit of a fulfilling and meaningful life, the path of self-development stands as a guiding light. Self-development is a continuous journey of introspection, learning, and growth that empowers individuals to unlock their true potential. In this article, we delve into the importance of self-development and explore a comprehensive blueprint for personal growth.

Understanding Self-Development:

Self-development is a multifaceted process encompassing various aspects of one's life, including emotional, intellectual, physical, and spiritual well-being. At its core, it involves a conscious effort to enhance self-awareness, cultivate positive habits, and foster a mindset of continuous improvement.

Self-Awareness:

The cornerstone of self-development is self-awareness. Understanding one's strengths, weaknesses, values, and beliefs lays the foundation for meaningful personal growth. Through introspection and reflection, individuals gain clarity about their goals, motivations, and the areas in which they aspire to develop.

Setting Clear Goals:

Setting specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-bound (SMART) goals is pivotal in the self-development journey. Whether it's advancing in a career, improving relationships, or adopting a healthier lifestyle, well-defined goals provide direction and motivation.

Continuous Learning:

Embracing a mindset of lifelong learning is key to personal growth. This involves seeking new knowledge, acquiring new skills, and staying open to different perspectives. Reading, attending workshops, and engaging in meaningful conversations are effective ways to expand one's intellectual horizons.

Cultivating Positive Habits:

Positive habits shape our daily routines and significantly impact our overall well-being. Whether it's practicing mindfulness, maintaining a healthy lifestyle, or fostering strong interpersonal connections, cultivating positive habits contributes to a more fulfilling life.

Adapting to Change:

Change is inevitable, and embracing it is a fundamental aspect of self-development. Developing resilience and adaptability enables individuals to navigate life's challenges with grace and bounce back from setbacks stronger than before.

Building Emotional Intelligence:

Understanding and managing emotions is a crucial component of self-development. Emotional intelligence involves recognizing and empathizing with both one's own emotions and those of others. Cultivating emotional intelligence enhances interpersonal relationships and contributes to overall personal well-being.

Implementing the Blueprint for Personal Growth:

Now that we've explored the foundational elements of self-development, let's delve into a practical blueprint to implement these principles into your daily life.

Create a Self-Reflection Routine:Start your self-development journey by dedicating time to self-reflection. Journaling, meditation, or simply quiet contemplation can help you gain insights into your thoughts, feelings, and aspirations.

Set SMART Goals:Identify specific goals in various areas of your life, such as career, relationships, health, and personal development. Break these goals down into smaller, actionable steps, making them more achievable and measurable.

Commit to Lifelong Learning:Foster a habit of continuous learning by allocating time for reading, attending courses, or participating in workshops. Stay curious, explore new subjects, and challenge yourself to acquire knowledge beyond your comfort zone.

Establish a Morning Routine:Kickstart your day with a purposeful morning routine. Incorporate activities such as exercise, meditation, or goal-setting to set a positive tone for the day and enhance your overall well-being.

Surround Yourself with Positive Influences:Cultivate relationships with individuals who inspire and support your personal growth. Engage in conversations that stimulate intellectual curiosity and foster a positive mindset.

Embrace Challenges:View challenges as opportunities for growth. Instead of avoiding difficulties, confront them with resilience and a problem-solving mindset. Each obstacle is a chance to learn, adapt, and emerge stronger.

Practice Mindfulness:Integrate mindfulness practices into your daily life to enhance self-awareness and reduce stress. Techniques such as meditation or mindful breathing can help you stay present and focused.

Celebrate Achievements:Acknowledge and celebrate your successes, no matter how small. Recognizing your achievements reinforces positive behavior and motivates you to continue your journey of self-development.

Conclusion:

Embarking on the journey of self development is a commitment to personal growth and fulfillment. By cultivating self-awareness, setting clear goals, and embracing continuous learning, individuals can unlock their true potential and lead a purposeful life. Implementing the blueprint for personal growth is not just a process; it's a lifelong adventure of becoming the best version of oneself.