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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 9 months ago

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Their Song (Killshot, Part 4.)

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came along with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: While Ghost was trying to process the new information during his military duties, Cassie had a different idea on her mind - inviting you both to join the party during the upcoming karaoke session.

A/N: Okay listen, I know we're here for our boy Ghost and his story, but come on - we can not ignore how fine of a specimen Captain John fucking Price is. Like girl, don't even pretend you wouldn't be smitten by this charmer. He's the catch, the moment, the stunner. I wanted to write a chapter that focuses on the relationship between other characters too, so expect some bonding between Johnny, Cass, Nelly, Gaz and Price. Cuz we love good friendships and happy families. The chapter's ending is heavily influenced by Saturn and Turning Page by Sleeping at Last.

Warnings: Strong mentions of anxiety, reader getting hammered, usage of alcohol, and smoking (both mentioned and active), Simon Riley secretly having the voice of an angel. A lot of '...' is used in emotionally heavy moments. Mentions of various pop songs - it's not important, you can imagine singing any song you'd like - the only song I'm adamant about is Meet Me At Our Spot (by the Anxiety) being their song because the entirety of the story is built on it.

Word count: 9.5K (i have no apology)

Tagging: @poohkie90

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Cassie did as she promised - after Simon texted her the address, she was at your flat within the next 15 minutes. The traffic was usually clogged at this hour, but she did her best. Simon couldn't appreciate it enough. "... And I've cooked some vegetable broth for when she wakes up. Think it's a bit strong, but whatever. It'll get her back on her feet.." - Simon explained to Cassie as he walked through the flat, explaining what went down that evening. The woman listened intently, nodded, and hummed when needed. - "Promised her I'd wake her up when it's done, but she looked miserable the last time I checked on her."

"That's very nice of you." - Cassie smiled, putting her coat away as she was making herself more comfortable - she packed fresh homey clothes and the most basic hygiene she could need in case your flu got even worse than that. Living alone wasn't easy and sometimes, you needed someone to rely on - Cassie, still considering you one of her closest friends, was glad she could be that someone for you. - "She's lucky someone's looking out for her like you do.

"The least I could do, really." - The man grunted, putting his jacket on. No matter how much he liked being around Cass, he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He was barely containing the urge to beat Billy to a pulp and he didn't want to direct these intense emotions towards Cass or, in the worst case, you. - "Bonnie's also taken care of, took her for a walk, and checked she had enough to drink and to eat. Would be wise to walk her in the morning, though." "Aye aye, captain. Stop worrying - you keep on forgetting that I live with Johnny, I know how to make shit work." - The blonde nodded, smirking at all the concern she could see in Simon's eyes. - "I'm sure both of them will be alive and well tomorrow morning if you'd like to check on them. Or, you could cancel your plans and hang around? I'm sure Y/N would be delighted to see you when she wakes up." "Can't. It's urgent." - Simon dismissed, looking around for the last time. The peaceful image of being able to put his shoes in the same shoe rack was smushed by all the anxiety and hatred he was feeling. It felt as if this image flashed in his head years ago, not a few hours ago.

Cassie was waiting for Simon to make sure everything was okay - it was hard to say what was going on inside his mind, but there had to be something. Yes, she and Johnny caught the wind that your chemistry seemed to be flowing well - especially after you disclosed to her that Ghost visits you nearly every shift, spending your lunch breaks together. She wouldn't have suspected the two of you were at this stage, though. Cassie was... Genuinely happy when she heard Simon was at your place, taking care of you when you got sick. The two of you were one of the best people she had gotten to know - and from what little Johnny told her about L.t., neither of you had the best of luck with the people who hung around you. Cassie wasn't sure who it was when it came to Simon, but in your case, Billy was the prime example. She hated his guts ever since you introduced them on one of your shifts. The guy gave her the chills even though she mostly liked everyone - that was a major red flag.

Therefore, the knowledge of the two of you... Spending time together, getting to know each other... That was something that made Cassie smile. "Hey, Si?" - She asked when Simon finally walked to the front door, ready to leave the apartment. "What is it?" "Hope you didn't forget about next Saturday?" "How could I? You and Johnny keep bugging me off about it. Price also chimed in today." - Ghost reiterated with irony, sending one of his famous wink in Cassie's direction. - "Can't wait." "Take care, big guy."

For the next few hours, Cassie and Bonnie dozed off while watching the Bake Off - the two were splayed on the couch, nuzzling together. Bon usually slept in your bed (you even bought the doggie stairs for her since she was too small to hop onto it), but since your door was shut tight and there was a new strange human friend to hang around, she gladly spent the night with Cass. It could be around four in the morning when you woke up, setting on a journey to take a piss, have some veggie broth, take some painkillers, and then, go to sleep again. As you noticed Cassie messaging her eyes (the creaking of your floorboards woke her up), you thought you'd simply made her up. The last you remembered, Ghost didn't have long blonde hair and a petite figure. She frightened you when you walked back into the living room - the girl was standing in the small kitchenette area, heating up the broth while making you both a cup of tea.

"Mornin', sleeping beauty." - She hummed as she stretched her back, yawning as she did so. "Hi." - You muttered back, coughing right after. - "What are you doing here? When... Did you come?" "Around 8? Ghost had something going on and couldn't stay, unfortunately, so he called for backup. I'm the backup." "Figures. So sorry to bother you, but I'm good, Cass. Bet you'd rather be doing anything else than hanging around with me right now." "Shush, Y/N. I'm glad to be here." - The woman answered, sending you one of her heartfelt, genuine smiles. Damn, she was still the same sunshine you remembered. - "On a different topic, I hope you're hungry. The broth smells so damn good." "He promised to wake me up when it's done. Bet the plans came out of nowhere." - You assumed, putting on a sweater to try to fight off the chills. You were so cold that your teeth kept on clattering.

"Does sound like Ghost to me." - The girl answered, snickering. - "He checked on the flat at least four million times before he left, though, so you can be sure we're safe and sound here." "Were you cleaning up?" - You wondered, noticing the folded clothes - furrowing at the sight of your coat also being neatly folded. Whoever was cleaning up your kitchen was a damn genius. All of the appliances suddenly seemed pristine, even those that you struggled to clean for years. Everything was organized in a way that simply made sense. It was hard to explain, but the newly given order made your kitchen three times nicer. Also, all the mess laying around the flat, that you've been planning on cleaning the entire week, was neatly put on the coffee table for you to organize - along with that fucking photo... And that fucking letter. "No, me and Bon dozed off after McAvoy went on a tangent about his dough being a bit too wet." - Cassie admitted honestly, putting a mug filled with hot tea in front of you. You didn't flinch away from the sight of the photo and the letter lying on the coffee table, your expression devoid of emotion.

Ghost, you realized, your expression slowly drowning in worry and horror. Did Ghost see it? Did Ghost read it? Of course he did, you didn't bother with picking up the photo even though you knew it was lying under the fridge. Why would you? But what about about you now? You were in so much trouble, if Billy gets to know, he'll come and... You had to almost slap yourself. Billy wasn't there to do shit anymore. You were safe. As you sat there, frozen in place, you realized you weren't even mad at Ghost - it felt so freeing for someone to know. To know what you're going through, to see it all on paper. You should've been raging, you should ask Cassie to call Ghost's sorry ass so you could talk with him about who gave him the right to fucking snoop - and instead, you were so fucking grateful. A huge portion of the weight was lifted off your shoulders, realizing there was someone you could confide in regarding what Billy said... You could tell Ghost about everything Billy had done to you.

Sure, most people didn't like Billy, but none of the said people knew how bad the situation truly was. Others could see only how he treated you in public - how he talked about you as if you were a pet, something he had to take care of, something so annoying he hated it with every fiber of his being. What they didn't know? About everything that had happened in your old apartment, about what went down behind the closed doors. None of them knew about the numerous emergency visits, about all the 'stairs you've fallen off', about the holes in the walls, about the broken furniture and dishes. The people around you, except your mum, didn't know. The fact you didn't file a report against his ass was astonishing - you had plenty of chances to do so. The doctor who treated you anytime you came in asked multiple times if you'd like to share something with him - you could see it in his eyes - he knew. But you never did. You were too scared. So scared you fled one day.

You should've burnt both, the photo and the letter, just like you promised your mum. Instead, the evidence lay right there, on your coffee table, and someone whom you trusted dearly was aware of your struggle.

"You alright?" - Cassie wondered, watching your distressed expression. "Hm?" "I'm asking if you're alright, been silent for the past couple of minutes. You're looking like you've seen a ghost." "I'm pretty sure he's asleep by now, but okay." - You answered, your sass making Cassie snicker.

After you've both eaten a bowl of that delicious fucking broth (it was the best you've had in your life), chatting about everything new in your respective lives, Cassie fished out a package of butter biscuits from literally nowhere. Later, she admitted she found them in the pantry - this made you smile. While biscuits weren't your go-to snack, you could appreciate them - Ghost thought of everything. He bought utensils, medicine, actual food and even snacks. If God finally decided to answer your prayers for a guardian angel, Ghost was it. "'s the tea okay?" - Cass wondered, sitting opposite you with a croaked smile. Bonnie was lying by her feet, hoping Cassie would drop at least a crumble of cookies by 'accident'. "Best I've had in years. Poured your heart into making that cuppa, didn't you?" "You bet, love. Anywho, Johnny and I were wondering... What you're up to next Saturday?" "Nothing I can think of. I'll probably have a spa day with my mum. Hadn't taken her out in a month." "Would you like to come to a karaoke with us? It's in the evening, so you'd have plenty of time for your mum and yourself." - Cass asked excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope. - "Everyone's wondering if you'd show up!"

"Uh-uh, they surely are." - You reiterated uncomfortably. It was hard to believe any of the people surrounding Cassie would genuinely want you around - you could say Cass was enthralled by the prospect of having you join their little crew, but the rest? "Not this again, girl. For starters, Johnny is talking my ear off regarding you, constantly asking if I've invited you yet? What did the bonnie say? You hadn't asked her? Shite, hon, pick up the phone and do it right now!" - The way she horridly imitated Johnny's accent made you genuinely laugh. - "Nelly asked countless times if you'd join our brunches and hangouts, she hadn't talked to you in years. Kylie will be there. Gaz promised he'd stop by for a drink, and Price... Girl, you'll love Capt'n Prize. He's easygoing, fun and very easy on the eyes." "Cass! Behave, you have a man at home." - You exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. "What?! He's one handsome bloke, a high-ranking geezer in the military, too - I won't be denying he's handsome. If you think I'm wicked, you should hear what Johnny says about the guy! You have no idea how many times I've had to listen to Johnny's rambling about John's pecs." - With this, you both giggled until comfortable silence fell over the room.

"So... Are you coming?" "I... I don't think it's appropriate. You guys seem like a good party of friends, I'd be your plus one - the new weirdo on the block. Yannow what I mean?" "Except you wouldn't be, dummy. C'mon, everybody wants you to come. Ghost even said it's his only condition - you wouldn't wanna let the guy rot at home now, would you?" "He said that? You're committing emotional extortion right now, Cassandra." - You tried to circle around, but Cass' knowing smile revealed she was seeing right through your bullshit - she knew well to keep Ghost's wish under wraps until the last moment. It was nice watching you get excited, giddy up and grin a bit. She didn't answer your question, just smiled - "Well... If that's the case, I might drop for a glass or two." "I'm so happy to hear that. Wear whatever bloody hell you want, we don't care, just feel comfy and come in a good mood. The drinks are on us, we'll only need help with the rental. Also - we need to sing a song together." "No way Cass. You remember how bad I am at singing, right?" "Bull-fucking-shit. It's gonna be so epic. God, I can't wait."

Well, no matter how much you tried to resist and how you planned on shutting Cass' request down, by 9 p.m. on the following Saturday, the two were yelling some pop-song lyrics into the microphone with a drink in your hand. Holy fuck it felt wonderful to let all the worries and burdens go, even for one evening.

The week leading up to the karaoke session was a doozie for both you and Simon. He contemplated asking Cassie for your number, to call you, text, check on you - he'd been scheduled to look after rookie training in a boot camp a few miles away from London, unable to make it back even for a small chat. He vanished into thin air at the worst time - he acknowledged but couldn't do anything to let you know. The man wished to let you know he wasn't mad and that he certainly wasn't going anywhere - but opening such a sensitive topic with the victim of domestic abuse was very tricky. Of which he was aware, as he also fell into this bracket. At times, Ghost wished he'd be better at conveying emotions and more approachable to open such topics. Although everything that happened during his life, he'd considered himself a good listener - he highly doubted you'd simply spill the beans about the darkest time of your life when you meet up next time, let alone acknowledge he snooped in your private matters without your permission. Were you mad at him? How much will you tell Ghost off when he makes it back home? Will it lead to a well-deserved argument? It should, right? The thoughts about you and William consumed Simon's brain during each second of the service, turning him into an anxious ball by the end of the week.

Not that you'd be faring better than Simon. If it was possible, you were doing even worse than he was - what was wrong? Where was he? Was he okay? Did the letter make him change his mind? Did Ghost draw false conclusions from it? Each day at work, you hoped to see the man approaching in the distance, carrying two cups - this would be the first sign that everything was okay. You wished he'd drop by for a chat, even if you'd awkwardly sit around in silence. Being unable to see him was killing you - only on Thursday you learned about his minor deployment. It didn't ease the stress much, but at least you knew you weren't the cause of his disappearance.

Cassie and Johnny, thankfully, pulled through. The night Cass stayed over, watching you, rekindled the long-lost friendship and fueled it with a new flame. This one was gentler, not all-consuming - it wasn't the spontaneous friendship of two kids but rather a meaningful adult connection you felt you were missing. Your mum was over the moon hearing that Cass invited you for a karaoke - as you told her about Johnny bringing you breakfast the following morning put a gentle, knowing smile on her face. The two started texting you whenever they felt like it, ranging from 'How you doing' to 'Look what a weird strange thing I found in the store today'. Johnny even came on Friday to have lunch with you - he'd been just dismissed from the base (he had to sign some new payment estimates and take a picture for his personnel folder), sending warmest regards from Ghost. This boosted your mood immensely, turning you into a brand new person.

This led you to Saturday night. Everyone invited to the karaoke was pretty neat, you had to admit. Nelly, just as Cass solemnly swore, was over the moon when she saw you approaching the table, squealed, and immediately pulled you into one of her bear hugs. Kylie, even though you didn't remember her, was easy to be around - she had a nice aura surrounding her as she sipped on her margarita. Gaz, Kyle to you, was another member of Johnny's squad, you've learned on your way to get a drink. The gentleman got on his feet when you announced you'd like something to drink, offering to accompany you. There was something about his careful tone, gentle smirk and slightly narrowed eyes. While you perceived Johnny as an unstoppable force fuelled by sweets and coffee, Gaz seemed calmer, like cold gauze treating a burn or the soothing smell of air after rain. You loved his aura - every bit of energy Kyle offered, you took with a grateful smile.

John Price, Capt'n Prize as Cass dubbed him, was every bit like Cass painted him out to be - even more than that. It was hard to believe he was real at first - men like him usually ended up on the cover of Sears. Your eyes were there for Ghost and Ghost only, but damn, John was ridiculously easy on the eyes, charming, and attractive - a fucking stunner at his finest. When you got over his ridiculous attractiveness, there was everything else about John Price. There was something about his sharp wit, rascalous grin and devious jitters in his eyes, something about the way he insisted on joining him on his smoke breaks. The guy was a good listener, sneering and gruffing upon hearing your jokes and stories, his eyes not leaving you for a second. If you weren't smitten with your masked soldier, you'd beg Price to give you his number by the end of the night.

Ghost was running late ('Don't you worry 'bout the boy, lass, he's alright', Price informed), and after Gaz brought you your third drink, singing sounded like a good fucking idea. Not too much later, you and Cassie were jumping on the impromptu stage, dancing to some sort of British electro-pop, grinning from ear to ear - Ghost was standing in the shuffle door of your reserved lounge, watching you two enjoying the moment. He'd imagined how to explain his late arrival and the fact he was gone for a week, but the moment you sent him a smile and waved at him, already a bit tipsy, all the excuses dissipated into thin air.

You looked so beautiful when you were having fun - all the worries and everyday problems disappeared with a wave of a wand (more probably a microphone, that was), and alcohol gave you the long-lost courage and love for life. Ghost had seen you happy before, yes, but he hadn't seen you entirely carefree yet. "Thank you, Lucky Voice, thank you! We'll be here all week!" - Cass cried out drunkenly, bobbing a curtsy to the entire table of drunkards watching you. "The hell we won't, the rental price is insane here, lass!" - Johnny protested, making Cass laugh. Kylie and Gaz got up, preparing to sing Abba's 'Super Trouper' right after your tremendous performance. Even though Ghost would love nothing but listening to them, he couldn't miss how you approached him, your legs unsteady and uncertain.

"Hey there, stranger." "Hey, love." - The man whispered, growing soft upon looking at your flustered face. You were a bit sweaty from all the jumping, but you still looked so fucking good. So fucking good that Ghost had to do his best not to kiss you right off the bat in fact - it was a tough week and you were finally there, in front of him, close enough he could feel your warmth on his skin, close enough to be hugged, kissed and cherished... Your presence felt like a fever dream. He'd been sacked at the boot camp, looking over rookies, and following orders while having you and William on his mind all the fucking time. One moment, he swore he'd kill the guy the next chance he got; when he blinked, memories of you suddenly appeared, plastering yourself all over his brain, smiling sweetly at him. He's been missing your presence, the unmistakable charm you were bringing to the world... It was a week since he'd been under your spell and there was no other place in the entire world he'd rather be than at the karaoke bar, right by your side. "You're looking... Rough." "Am I now?" "Long week?" "Fuckin' tell me about it." "The boys mentioned. Wanna grab a drink and go for a smoke break? I'm fresh out of mine so I'd appreciate both - some booze and fresh air." "Would be my pleasure."

Asking him about all the details he'd been willing to share, the two of you grabbed a drink and ventured in front of the karaoke bar for a bit, lazily shuffling back into the rented lounge. Even though you tried your damnest to prolong the moment you were having with Ghost, Johnny ruined the intimacy the moment he saw you approaching - the guy jolted over to you, grabbing you by your elbow with great care. "We're gonna sign, bonnie lass, me 'n you. Price found the perfect song for us." "Did he now? That sounds menacing." "It'll be in good fun, c'mon. Be a good sport for me, eh?" "I would never turn you down, Johnny. I'm just worried about which tune Price picked out, 's all."

"Give me your drink. I'll fetch it to the table." - Ghost offered silently, melting at the sight of you and Johnny giggling like two little kids. With a sorrowful smile, your glass ended up in Ghost's palm - you wished the moment would've lasted longer, that you'd have longer for listening to him rambling about everything and nothing. You missed him. "'m sorry." - You added, stopping in your tracks. Johnny halted alongside you, watching the two of you ogling back and forth, Simon's eyes boring into you with unmatched intensity. If you'd let him, his eyes would probably devour you whole. Johnny let out a quiet whistle, waiting for you to be done with your small moment. Cassie proclaimed how she's positive Simon is into you and that you might be interested in him... But seeing it unravel in front of his eyes was adorable.

Your eyes never left Simon's face, your palm gently holding onto his forearm. You were standing inappropriately close - Simon could feel your breast bumping into his arm each time you took a breath. If you were anyone else (Nelly, for example), Ghost would've already shown you out of his personal space - but the guy did nothing, even took an almost unnoticeable step closer. The bloody bastard that reached an impressive 6'4 in height seemed to grow smaller and gentler in your presence, his eyes filled to the brim with warmth and adoration - why two you weren't dating yet was beyond Soap, truly. "Nothin' to be sorry about, love. You go and enjoy yourself now, yeah?" "I'll catch you later."

Moments later, you found yourself in a fit of laughter over Johnny's interpretation of 'California Gurls'. You loved everything about it - the false confidence he radiated despite not having any semblance of musical hearing, his inability to match his tone to the note progression and his horrible timing. The chorus, however, was something to behold - neither of you tried to sing, knowing the chorus by heart (thanks to this song being in the radio on a fucking loop), you simply yelled it into each other's faces, bouncing around and hyping each other up. Price didn't even cover the phone - he immortalized each second of your moving performance, sending it to Cassie the moment he ended recording. Cassie and Nelly were crying, losing it the moment you did your best to imitate Snoop Dog - Gaz appeared to be severely traumatized, cracking a grin when the hellish screeching finally stopped.

"Bloody hell, this was one of the best decisions of my life." - Price muttered, drying his cheeks. He meant it, none of them laughed this hard in the last few weeks. Cass was dragging him to sing their rendition of Take Me Out. - "I'm playin' this on your bloody wedding, sarge. Stellar." These two picked out Franz Ferdinand as their band of choice, dramatically portraying each lyric - alcohol and good company always made John pipe down, relax and sometimes, on extremely rare occasions, do rather silly and inappropriate things you wouldn't see a military skipped doing... Just as jumping around to the riff of 'Take Me Out'. "That's my fiancé! I taught my bonnie lass to listen to good fucken' music!" - Johnny explained, listening to the opening chords. You knew it, of course, it was well-known, but Johnny's sudden burst of pride made you stare at him with mouth agape. Thankfully, Kyle and Ghost to the rescue.

"Johnny can get a wee bit patriotic." - Kyle explained as the Scotsman jumped around in the rhythm, making you a bit terrified. "Uh-uh." - Ghost nodded, confirming. - "Hates us 'fucking lunatics', meaning Brits, according to his own words. Everyone except you and Cass according to his latest statement. Love that about the chap, though." "What does patriotism have to do with... Fucking anything?" - At that moment, Johnny started screaming the words with the same "grace" he sang California Gurls with. It looked both scary and funny at the same time. "The band is Scottish, you see?" - Kyle explained. "Heard him swearin' he'd plunk any uncultured swine who'd tarnish their rep." - Ghost added, taking a good swing of his whiskey. "Hillarious..." - Kyle added, clinking his glass with yours, kicking all the remnants in. "Scary." - You hummed, moving out of the way for Kyle to comfortably leave the table.

"On the topic of Johnny... Looked good out there. Didn't know you're such a talented singer." - Ghost murmured as you watched the trio, enchanted with how silly they acted. "You're fucking with me now, aren't you?" "I'm serious - wasn't as bad as I expected. Enjoyed every second of your brilliant performance." "If you enjoyed that, your musical hearing is fucked, buddy, sorry to inform you. Anywho, what will you sing?" "Oh, I'm just here for fun and banter. I don't do singing." "Don't be a party popper. C'mon." "And have you poking fun at me for the rest of my life? No, thank you." - Thankfully, he was saved by Nelly - she was asking for help with moving and assembling some furniture at her new place. Both Gaz and Ghost agreed to take a look at it whenever she needed them to.

His streak of not 'taking part in singing at karaoke' was challenged not even two hours later. The party had moved from drinks to shots - you were more courageous, not taking no for an answer. You, Cass and Nelly even had the first round of ugly crying of the night under your belts, crying about how you should've rekindled the friendship way sooner - at this, all the gentlemen decided to go for a smoke break, leaving Kyle behind as your nanny. As soon as Price got back, you were on his ass - sighing about him being one of the most handsome blokes you've ever met. Price could only choke out an amused: - "Why, thank you, miss." - before laughing his ass off at your drunk expression. You were standing in front of Simon now, your palm extended to him, chin risen ever so slightly. The expression you had was dangerous - determined and cocky.

"You need anythin'?" - Ghost prompted, grinning at the sight. He'd downed two glasses of whiskey by that point, the bourbon delicately burning in his chest. "Yah. You, me, the stage, now." - It wasn't a question nor a wish, it was an order. Simon's eyes narrowed as he smiled, darkening ever so slightly. He liked it when you were bossy. Cass, unbeknownst to your knowledge, bumped Johnny's shoulder, the duo now shamelessly staring at you. The rest of the table was engaged in a conversation as Price and Kyle told the ladies some of the less confidential stories. "I don't do singing, already told you when you asked." "Too bad I'm not asking. Move your ass, I spent ten fuckin' minutes looking for our song." "Our song?" - Simon whispered, all the air suddenly kicked out of his lungs. Of course, he knew what song you had in mind - the one playing when he worked on the chicken broth. Ashamedly, Simon had to admit he memorized each word, each chord because he had it playing on a loop in his headphones before going to sleep. "C'mon, mate. Make an exception, just for once - won't kill ya to sing. Poor lass barely hit the right keys." - Soap chimed in, his strong Scottish accent overwhelming the conversation - everyone's eyes were on you now, waiting for Simon to finally take your fucking hand. "Shit was kinda blurry, 's right." - You admitted, still waiting for Simon to take your hand. It wasn't a shame to admit you barely recognized a from m at this point, the alcohol kicked in big time.

His palm caught yours, slipping around it like a glove... As if your hands were moulded to be held by this, fitting like two pieces of a fucking puzzle. Getting you onto the improvised stage was a task in itself - you've stuttered on your way up and if it wasn't for Simon's hands catching your shoulders, you'd fall square on your face. "Who's singing Willow's part?" - Simon wondered as you offered him his microphone - your eyes darted next to his head as if you were trying to determine which of the Ghosts in front of you was the real one. "You, duh. Bet you're rocking luscious, beautiful curls under that mask 'f yours." "Fuckin' close 'nough, I guess." - The guy laughed, shaking his head at you - your drunk form was absolutely fucking adorable. If he'd have to describe it, you looked like a mischievous little devil. "Hit it, Jack!" - You exclaimed, pointing in Johnny's direction - Cassie was kneeling in front of the table with her phone at the ready, determined to catch every second of what was coming. Fuck, Simon realized, he'll have this on his plate for the foreseeable future. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!" - Soap answered with matching intensity, saluting as he his 'play'. The known base filled the silent lounge, having everyone staring at you with their breaths batted - you were swaying in the rhythm, your moves far from graceful but you were clearly enjoying yourself, lost in the moment.

You didn't know what you were expecting - Simon was a well-built man with 6'3 height under his belt, his voice naturally guttural and gruffly, clouded with a thick British accent. While you braced yourself to hear the most horrible hellish screeching imaginable, Simon's singing almost gave you a heart attack and swept Johnny off his drunk feet. Ghost sounded like an angel. All of you stared at the man in disbelief as he poured his fucking soul into the lyrics, hitting each fucking note perfectly. His interpretation of your favourite song was what you wanted to listen to over and over, selfishly wishing you'd record it. Simon had to poke your shoulder to make you realise it was your turn to sing - hastily, you joined him during the chorus, surprising your small audience even further.

Your singing wasn't bad, but not Grammy-worthy either - and yet, hearing you two harmonize was magical. Soon, you'd forget about your friends at the table, staring at each other while singing your hearts out. His eyes hadn't moved from yours, the man sang each line as if he meant it - it made your heart beat heavily in your chest. For Simon, it wasn't just singing - each line of the song had a meaning. It was one of his silly little wishes it could become your reality where you'd met earlier in your lives. In this universe, you'd be just two young adults falling in love, meeting up so you'd forget all about the stress and anxiety tying you down in each other's arms.

In that reality, Simon could be enough for you and you'd be enough for yourself. You wouldn't feel the need to stick around guys who weren't good for you, you wouldn't receive extortive mail, and you wouldn't be alone. He wouldn't cover his face because he couldn't stand to look himself in the eye, neither because he was protecting his identity. In this reality, William wouldn't exist. You'd have your spot in each others' arms, falling asleep feeling safe. In this reality, you could lead a happy, day-to-day life. There was a small moment when the song finished, a glimpse of a second when Simon almost kissed you. Your expression was adoring, glimmering with happiness and pure, unconditional love - the microphone dropped by your hip, and you were staring into his eyes, taking a small step closer. The whole moment was ruined by Nelly getting up, clapping and whistling cheerfully, others following suit - not bad for Si's karaoke debut, Cassie had to admit.

As you stumbled away from Simon's reach, you stumbled on your feet again, falling flat on the ground this time. - "Fuck." "Aight, missy, 's 'nough for you tonight. I'll take you home, yeah?" "Noooo, Ghoooost..." - You whined dramatically as he helped you over to the table, sitting you down. - "The party just started, man. We can't leave now." "You tell that to your toilet later. Price?" - Ghost called out, catching his skipper's attention. - "Can you look after Miss Diva for a second? Gotta go to the bog." "You got it, kid."

It couldn't have taken more than five minutes to take a piss, Simon rushed the entire process to be back as soon as possible. And yet, you were gone when he made it back - your coat disappeared from the hanger, your purse gone too. Jesus fucking Christ. You were giving him a run for his money. "Where is she?" - Simon demanded, burning a hole in Price's forehead. Five fucking minutes. He was meant to look after you for five fucking minutes. "Y/N got some sort of a text and said she has to leave immediately. Who am I to stop her? She's an adult. Can make her own bloody decisions." "I was just about to walk her home." "Then you should've said so. Hadn't caught that." "Right."- Ghost fumed out, turning to Cassie. - "Can you give me her number?" "Yeah, of course, let me text it to you. Want help with finding her?" "You go and enjoy the rest of the night." "Si!" - Cassie cried out as Simon turned on his heels, following him immediately. - "I'm sorry, but John's right. We weren't listening in and Y/N's a grown-up..." "It's fine, Cass. I'll find her."

You couldn't have made it far - in the state you were in, on your wobbly and unsteady legs? No way in hell you'd make it even around the block. What worried Simon, however, was the park to his right hand. The man hoped you had enough reason not to walk through it. The first thing he heard was a hiccup before you drunkardly mumbled your name, doing your best impression of being sober. "'s me. Where have you fuckin' disappeared to?" "Me? I know a lot of mes, sir. My mum told me not to talk to strangers. S-Stranger fuckin' danger an' all that, yannow?" "It's Ghost, Y/N, you slipped out of the karaoke bar. Where the hell are you, woman?" "Awwww, hiiiii. I didn't know *hiccup* you had my number?" "Got it from Cass. Can you spill the tea?" "'m on my way home." - You explained as if it weren't obvious. - "The mood for partying kinda dropped to zero, decided I gotta go check on my adorable little doggo. I missed my sweet little princess." "That's all sweet. What do you see around you?" - Thankfully, you were drunk enough not to catch onto his plan of finding you and started to talk about your surroundings. For once, Simon was grateful for drunk people being gullible and honest.

"Trees. Lots of 'em. 's kinda dark around but I'm pretty sure some food *hiccup* in the distance. Yep, right up the vein!" "Dearie, don't say this sort'f stuff so loud, yeah?" - Simon asked, turning on his heels towards the park. He could hear you giggle on the other end, the sweet sound making him grin. - "What's that about?" "Dearie is cute 'n all, but I like it when you call me love. Makes me weak in my knees 'n all." - You admitted, stuttering over your words as you tee-heed again as if you told Simon some well-guarded secret. As if Simon didn't already know. "'kay love, tell me more about your surroundings, I'm on my way to get you. Can call you love for the rest of the night if you'd fancy that." "Ohmygod..." - You sighed swiftly, chuckling at the prospect ahead. Ghost tenderly whispering 'love' the whole night sounded like a fucking dream come true. - "You'd *hiccup*... You'd like to do that?" "Wished to do so for the longest time, love."

"I can see a bistro and some... Fuckin' statue. Whatever the fuck that's *hiccup* supposed to be, it's scary." "Any benches in the area?" - Even though your description was far from eloquent, Simon knew the place you had in mind. It was a small takeaway coffee selling baked goods and hot drinks to go. He hadn't visited it, but Cass mentioned it here and there because it wasn't far from her workplace and she enjoyed going there on her lunch break. The statue, if he wasn't mistaken, was representing either Shakespeare or Peter Pan, but Simon was unable to recall it correctly at the moment. As he suspected, you didn't get far at all. "Quite a lot. Fuck, I think it's some sort'f a square or somethin'." "Sit down for me, love, I'll be there soon. Stay with me on the phone for now, yeah?" "But I miss Bonnie soooo much, Ghost, I just wanna..." - He could hear as you struggled to sit down and fell onto the bench beats later. It was hard to make out what you precisely wanted to do to Bonnie, but he could hear some humming and kisses here and there. - "She's home all alone, my poor baby." "Not for long now, I swear, we'll take off as soon as I find you. How you're feelin'?" "Haven't thrown up yet. 's a good sign, no?" "Look at you. Quite impressive given everything you've poured down your throat." "I can handle my *hiccup* fuckin' alcohol." "You sure can..." - Simon answered breathlessly, finally reaching the spot - he could see your silhouette splayed all over the bench, your coat undone, your purse lying right next to you. - "You sure can, love." - He said as he approached, having you sit up straight faster than lightning. Your expression started beaming with blissful happiness the second you laid your eyes on him.

"Hi, Ghost!" - You squealed, shoving the phone into your purse, not caring to end the call. - "You look good tonight. *hiccup* Have I told you that already?" "Not that I can recall, no. Lookin' beautiful yourself." "Now you're just making shit up, I'm fuckin' wasted, dude. Drunk people never look sexy, 's what I always said anyway." "You look amazing all the time, love, without a fail. C'mon now, let's get you home." "You mean that?" - You whispered, your eyes glued to his as he helped you to stand your feet. Without his arm around your waist guiding you forward, you'd be fucked. Everything was blurry and multiplied, you couldn't say which trees were real and which were just a fragment of your imagination. "Never meant anything more in my life. Even in the most worn-out sweatpants you own. Let me take you home now, you sexy beast." "Never say that again. Sexy beast? Love's so much better. Jesus." "Your wish is my command, ma'am." - Ghost muttered sweetly, leading you towards the bus stop. Both of you were laughing, you were right - 'sexy beast' was the most horrid-sounding pet name that ever graced Simon's lips.

As mentioned before, Simon hated being the centre of attention - everything about that made the hair on his arms stand in pure displeasure. He hated when people stared at him, fearing that he was a threat; he just wished to blend into the crowd and remain unseen and unnoticed. Let's just say... That being unnoticed in a packed double-decker in central London with a giggling, drunken mess in his arms was near impossible. For once, however, Simon wouldn't change for the world - it was endearing to feel you grasping his jacket, nuzzling yourself closer so you wouldn't fall on some stranger in such a confined space. Watching and feeling your head leaning to his chest with a confined smile, taking a relaxed breath - smelling him and listening to his heartbeat. He'd imagined this so many times. Even though the circumstances were far from perfect, everything about it made Simon happy. He'd come to rescue you from any party you'd go to just to feel the fuzzy warmth bubbling in his chest again.

When you finally arrived at your flat, the first thing you did was turn into a whiney mess - instantly, you were on your knees, your clothes leaving very little to Simon's imagination. You burrowed your head in Bonnie's fur, sobbing uncontrollably. As he locked the door behind you, Simon simply hoped it was happy, let it be ugly, crying. "She's... She's so perfect." - You sobbed, pulling Bonnie close to your chest as you looked up to Simon, your make-up absolutely ruined by that point. The dog was clueless and didn't know what was happening - it simply licked your chin feverishly, welcoming you home. - "She's the best thing in my life right nooooow..." - And now, you were whaling. Great. Drunk women were the most ferocious and dangerous creatures in the universe - Simon was adamant about that. - "I love her soooo fucking much." "Absolutely correct, love, she's our perfect little girl. How about we clean your face and change you to more comfortable clothes?" Simon whispered, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

Seriously, he needed you to change your clothes ASAP - he'd love anything else but watching your figure and curves (the current view alone was bringing Simon many indecent thoughts)... But drunk fucking wasn't something Riley would be interested in - if the two of you were going to have sex, it would be sober and with full consent. The man prayed to whatever gods up there to make you change into the baggiest sweatpants and shirt you had lying around to cool off his libido. As you crawled out of your bedroom in a Bristle Bears jersey with biker shorts under, the crisis was, thankfully, averted.

Twenty minutes later, you splattered over your sofa - the TV was playing in the background as you sat with your face turned to Simon. He gently ran at least the 20th makeup wipe over your face with the utmost gentleness he could muster, concentration knitting his eyebrows together. He even took the liberty of making you a cup of tea, God bless him.

The window was crooked open, the rest of his cig slowly burning out in an improvised ashtray you crafted for him. That was when Simon noticed yet another wave of tears in your eyes. "What is it, love? Did I poke your eye on accident?" "No, that's not it. Thank you for being so nice to me." - You sobbed, first tears rolling down your cheeks. Simon sighed, doing his best to keep his inner peace balanced - seeing you cry for the millionth time was both soul-crushing and tiring at the same time. "'s nothin', trust me. What's goin' on in that noggin of yours?"

"You." - It was just a whisper, but it made Simon straighten up - his head slightly tilted this shoulder, his eyebrows cocked in confusion. - "Ehm, I meant, your face. You're being so nice to me, take care of me even though you don't have to, spend your free time in that damn flower shop with me even though all I can offer is my company..." "But your company's enough for me, trust..." "... And I don't even know *sob* what you look like." - You whinced, wiggling away from his palm. You were doing your best to stop the childish tantrum, even bent your head backwards and tried pushing the tears back in. - "It just... Doesn't feel fair, yannow? I know you have your reasons for covering your face. I know I'm acting like an absolute asshole over something so minuscule right now. Do you realize how stupid I feel for crushing on someone whose face I hadn't seen? I'd recognize your eyes anywhere, but I'd like to see more. And no matter what, I can't stop wishing to see more, even though I know it won't ever happen. Like... You hadn't told me what your name is, I just got your number because you were pissed at me, you never talk about yourself, or share details... And me crying about it is the stupidest and most selfish thing fucking ever because I'm your friend, and I'm supposed to respect your fucking privacy..."

Simon didn't move for a few beats, tuning out whatever you were ranting about - not that he didn't want to listen, but because the simple confession stole his breath away. What did you just say? Crushing? You had a crush on him? Simon was ready to outright propose if you'd like to, right there on your sofa, to your whiney, drunk ass. Confirming you had true feelings for him was marvellous, stopping his mind from wondering whether just flirted around, making him out to be just a nice little distraction. You weren't. As he processed the information, he couldn't help but chuckle - the sound halted your crying and whining immediately. If you had asked him any other time, Simon would've most likely denied the request outright... But since you were both drunk, the liquid courage was making him less self-aware and more confident. Why not? Why shouldn't he just go for it? Take his chances with you?

"... And I even asked Cassie about you even though I knew I shouldn't... I'm such a fucking prick, bloody hell." "That's what you're cryin' your pretty eyes out about?" - Simon asked, completely detached from whatever you were going about for the last few minutes. "I mean... *sob* I know it's selfish 'n all, but I'd say... Fuck! Yannow, some guys on the telly said that non-verbal communication makes up to 70% of all human interactions." "All you gotta do is ask, pretty girl." - Simon murmured, his breath growing shallow - his heart was beating so fast as if it were to burst out of his fucking chest, pressure raising rapidly as he realized the insanity of what was he was about to do. He'd push the baklava off his face if his palms weren't a sweaty, trembling mess. "Ghost, I beg you - can I see what you look like?" "Take it off yourself, love."

Gently scooping closer to him, you pumped your fingers a few times to stop them from shaking. Your adrenaline shot through the roof, and you started dragging your fingers on his shoulders, slowly working your way to his neck - giving him time to process your touch and get used to the stimuli. His body felt scorching under your touch, his pulse fast under the tips of your fingers. His eyes were closed, breathing unsteady, muscles tensed up unnaturally. You could see Ghost's palm clinging to the back of your couch, his fingers buried in with a force that turned his knuckles white. As you finally started peeling the baklava off, his body shuttered, leaning away from you. As if it was an unconscious reaction, Simon didn't spend any time before sliding back within comfortable reach, already missing the comfort of your touch. "You sure it's okay for you?" "Mhm. Just keep goin'. Don't stop - if you stop, it'll kill me, darling." - Simon muttered, securing himself in place. His leg was lazily thrown over your waist so you'd sit puzzled together, Bonnie sleeping wedged into the small space. He wanted you to see. Simon wished to look you in the eyes without covering his face. He finally wished you to experience and feel all the love and adoration brewing within him. "Okay."

Much to his dismay, you were taking your bloody time, tearing the material off so agonizingly slow - one hand was lifting the fabric, your dominant hand gently caressing every inch of the newly discovered skin. Your eyes tried to memorise it all in case you wouldn't see it again - the dent in his chin, his fawn stubble, the sharp outline of his jaw, sharp contours of his cheeks, his plush and full lips and even the ugly scar reaching from his upper lip to his left nostril. Your caresses worshipped his hooked nose, the sweet dark spots under his eyes, and all the freckles standing out on his upper cheeks thanks to the area being exposed to the sun more than the rest of his place. He could feel your touches moulding his skin gently, dragging your fingers on the ugly scar on his temple, carefully tugging on his soft dirty blonde hair - then, suddenly, the baklava was fully off. Simon felt it coming, but it still surprised him; so much so that he squished his lips into a tight line, as if he tried to hide from your eyes for even a second longer. Your hand discarded the baklava almost carelessly. Knowing you've thrown Simon's most precious shield on the ground left him utterly defenceless in your arms, at the mercy of your words and actions. And yet, there was no other place he'd rather be in the entire world.

"Ghost..." - Your voice grew meek with adoration and emotion, your palms still kneading his face. It was then that he finally allowed himself to peek at you, to see your expression. Your lips were parted slightly, your face flushed with heat, your eyes scanning him adoringly. Tears were dropping on your cheeks again. This time, Simon knew they were the result of the happiness you felt, therefore he didn't comment on them. Fuck, he felt like the luckiest and most handsome man walking the Earth.

"Hey there, dolly." - Gently, his lips brushed over the inner side of your palm before he leaned back into the touch. "You're so fucking beautiful. Bonnie, look." - Picking the dog up, you pointed at Simon's face and giggled, making Simon smirk right back at you. The dog yawned, licking its mouth and shaking its head - it wasn't interested in Simon's face to reveal in the slightest. - "He's perfect. Isn't he perfect? Tell him how fucking flawless he is, come on." "You don't mean that. That's the alcohol talking." - Simon chuckled while looking away from you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced a gulp down his throat. Embarrassment painted his cheeks bright pink. You made him blush, you realized, staring at him with your mouth agape. The triumph made you cackle.

The duality of Ghost left you speechless - a confident, 6'4 guy not to be messed around with the mask, snarky humour, and his physical presence overwhelming you every time. This Ghost? Giggly, happy, slightly drunk. You loved how comfortable he looked with legs puzzled around your waist, his right arm leaning into the sofa as he looked everywhere around the room instead of you. You adored every inch of his dark pink blush and the entire universe that exploded, establishing itself behind his eyes. So this was the man you loved, the one you pinned after for the last few months? You loved every inch of him. Even if he'd look utterly different, you'd still be enchanted.

"Piss drunk people are always honest." - You admitted, caressing his upper arm. Were you staring? Probably. Was it making Ghost uncomfortable or flattered? Hard to tell. Could you be stopped? No. When will you get another chance like this, to fawn over his beauty in its full glory? He was everything you imagined... And much more than that.

"... I really like it when you blush." - It was a careful admission, but you meant it. You put Bonnie down on your lap again, leaning your elbow into the couch right next to his arm, so you could stare at him more comfortably. "... And I really like you." - Simon spilt without giving it too much thought, immediately realizing what he'd just said. Well, as Price often said, in for a penny - in for a pound. This was the night of admissions and confessions... At least it was turning out to be. And each little confession felt natural, lifting heaviness off his shoulders. You knew. You must've known by now. And yet, finally admitting to it felt uplifting. "I just want you to know that if I was bold enough, I'd kiss you right now, Ghost..." "Simon." - The man whispered, shutting you off. Hearing his government name lit your face up. An amazed sigh left your lips as you connected his name to his appearance, burning it into the back of your head. - "It's Simon Riley... My name's Simon Riley. I should've told you way sooner."

"Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon..." - You chanted as if you hadn't heard a more beautiful word before. Biting your lip, your hand has risen to his cheek again, cupping it gently. Hearing his own name falling off your lips like that was heavenly. - "A name for an angel rather than for a Ghost. I like that name. It suits you." "I'm glad to hear that, ma'am." - Simon didn't like it. The name reminded him of his old man way too much, connecting him to a troubled family tree, to the people who turned him into what he was. He wasn't willing to ruin the moment you shared, however. If you said his name's nice... It must've been. "And may I?" - You whispered, staring at his lips. Simon licked his lips expectedly, nodding to let you know it's fine, that he wants it too. He put his hand on your waist, holding you in place as he scooped you closer - you were puzzling himself into his arms as if you belonged there forever, being that one little silly puzzle piece he'd lost before he was born. Your knees wrapped around his waist as you palmed his t-shirt, steadying your position.

You were both taking your time, giggling excitedly, blissed with disbelief. Your breathing was tickling Simon's face, making Simon's smile widen. Your eyes closed as you positioned your elbow around his shoulders, your nails gently scratching his scalp. So close... He was so close. Your noses bumped together, warm skin dragging across each other, your breath finally stabilizing as you got ready for the final stretch. Simon could feel your lips brush against his... But the kiss didn't come. It never came, in fact. The moment Simon opened his eyes to deduce what was wrong, a snore cut through the comfortable silence in your apartment. At first, it shut Simon off. He was staring at you, holding his palms on your shoulder blades, playing with the ends of your hair - until he started laughing quietly.

He wasn't upset, God forbid angry with you. You were trolled, in the end, drinking way more than you should - he half expected to be holding your hair for you by this point of the night. Even though you hadn't really touched the first base, this night turned into everything Simon wished for. This was just his luck - the lady holding his heart in a headlock dozing off before anything happened. "She's knackered." - Simon whispered towards Bonnie lying on the ground. The cutesy dog had no idea what he was saying, but she was excited enough to nuzzle and nibble on his ankle. - "I know, sweet girl, I know. Let me put mommy to bed, and then we'll set out for a walkie, yeah?" - The man ushered as he started folding you into his arms bridal style. Upon the word 'walkie', Bonnie growled and whimpered excitedly, almost wiggling her tail off. - "Hush, you little furry beast."

The duo spent half an hour walking outside on a cold night, Simon taking his bloody time smoking a few cigarettes to calm down. Bonnie was doing her own thing, carrying various sticks to him so they could play fetch. As soon as the door to your flat opened and Bonnie's paws got cleaned, the dog sped into your bedroom, nuzzling to you - all you did in response was throw your hand over her, grunting displeasantly. Before leaving, Simon quickly put together a note.

'Thank you for one of the best nights of my life. Prepared some coffee and painkillers for you on the counter. Text me when you wake up. Love, - Simon'

#simon riley #simon riley x fem!reader #ghost cod #ghost x fem!reader #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john price #141 cod #task force 141 #cod: mw #here we go agaiiin #this one was a struggle to finish #i love how the ending turned out tho #they are such a cute lil mischevious pair

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topazshadowwolf · 1 year ago

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A Win and A New Foe

Cross won! The boy did it! But Fell didn't win this time. Error is now the opponent Cross will face. And what a challenge this will be! Cross, the youngest of the gang vs Error, Destroyer of Worlds, Master of Puppets, Guardian of Destruction, Collector of Souls.

Good thing Cross has others to support him! Make sure you vote as I am sure this will be a close one!

---

Nightmare yawned as he tried to finish his work. The polls had been a distraction, but he had plenty of things to do. He figured he could check in later when a few hours were left. He had been so wrapped up in his work he forgot to check. Instead, he learned the results when he heard a commotion in the hallway.

He looked up in time to see Killer and Horror carrying Cross over their head into his office with giant smiles. “he did it! our baby bro did it!” Killer cheered.

“he beat ink!” Horror added as they set a very anxious Cross down.

“hurray me,” Cross said as he looked down.

“Indeed, it will be you against Fell,” Nightmare started but was interrupted by Killer.

“ehhh, about that boss. error won,” Killer said while putting his hand on Cross’ shoulder. “which is why the oreo is such a nervous nelly right now. he knows who he’s up against.”

Hearing this caused Nightmare to frown as he woke up his laptop and brought up the website. He paused for a moment, then looked back at Cross. “Do not… fret. Regardless of who the victor is, I am just happy you made it as far as you did.”’ A grin grew across Nightmare’s face as he steepled his hands, “Although, I would love to rub it in Error's face that one of my henchmen won against him.”

“i will try my best!” Cross said, saluting.

“I know you will,” Nightmare smiled as he stood and walked over. He rested a hand on Cross’ shoulder, followed by Killer and Horror doing the same. “We are still behind you, doing what we can for you.”

---

arguments for voting for cross and not error

heya. here’s a list of why you should vote for cross (the baby bro of our group):

he’s a cool dude

he doesn’t go around destroying other people’s stuff

error likes to destroy other people’s stuff. talking about homes and whole worlds here

cross doesn’t like to kill people and steal their souls

error’s main gig is to kill people and steal their souls

he dresses nice for a sans. (you think i have the energy to dress like him?)

he showers daily (i’ve never seen a shower in the anti void. or a wardrobe.)

i’m pretty sure error is that weird smell i notice when he’s around

he doesn’t steal other people’s stuff

error likes to steal and litter other people’s homes/worlds (bad for the environment)

cross helped save an endangered species of butterflies from destruction

except for the few cross saved, error made those endangered butterflies extinct by destroying not just their habitat but the world they came from

cross is polite for the most part (we are a bad influence, sorry)

error is very rude

nightmare would be happy if his youngest “son” won

“Ah, there you are, Dust,” Nightmare’s voice interrupted Dust’s thoughts, and he looked up to see his boss entering his room. “Cross has advanced to the finals.”

“i saw,” Dust said as he started to close his laptop. Nightmare stopped the motion and pushed the screen back to look at what Dust had been working on. The dark guardian then rested a hand on his shoulder as he chuckled softly.

“That you have. It seems you are trying to support Cross in your own way. Still, you should try to congratulate him verbally. He is apprehensive about this upcoming competition. I am sure he will be happy to have your support,” Nightmare said.

“i will,” Dust replied, then looked up at Nightmare. “you look tired, boss. when did you last sleep?”

“I have said it before; I will say it again. I do not require the amount of sleep you four do. Thank you for your concern, but I am doing fine and will retire to my chambers for a rest when this is over,” Nightmare stated.

“alright, boss,” Dust shrugged and looked over his list. “once i’m done editing this, i’ll go find cross.”

“That is fine…,” Nightmare said softly. He then turned slowly and left.

Alone again, Dust sighed. He still had his last “dad” to use. Unlike the others, he barely said the word when he could say it whenever. That word, at one time, had no meaning to him. Now that it had meaning to him, he didn’t want to overuse it. So, he will have to make that one count.

#crosssweep #cross!sans #horror!sans #killer!sans #nightmare!sans #dadmare #dust!sans

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myhauntedsalem · 7 months ago

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Lonely House - Hex Hollow

What Happened at this Lonely House in Pennsylvania is Still Haunting to this Day

The story of Hex Hollow and the house that sits on its land is an infamous legend in York County, Pennsylvania, and the surrounding areas. While everyone knows about the infamous Salem witch trials that occurred in 17th-century Massachusetts, very few are aware that this region was at one point also rife with paranoia and magic 235 years later.

The dastardly murder of Nelson Rehmeyer in 1928 is not only well remembered in the community, the traces of his death still haunt the house he once called home.

After years of bad luck and illness, Rehmeyer’s neighbor, John Blymire, began to suspect that he was cursed and sought a supernatural solution.

The local river witch (because they apparently had those in 1928), Nellie Noll, blamed Rehmeyer, saying that it was he who was casting the dark hexes on Blymire. She told him that all he needed to do was to burn Rehmeyer’s book of spells and bury a lock of his hair.

The “book of spells” the river witch was referring to was The Long Lost Friend, written by the German John George Hohman in 1870. Also titled Pow-Wows, it contains a collection of ancient German spells, healing rituals, and even recipes popular amongst the Pennsylvania Dutch.

By the way, the “Pennsylvania Dutch” culture is actually rooted in German heritage and language, not Dutch. Pennsylvanians are just purposefully confusing people.

Blymire and two associates entered Rehmeyer’s home, but could not find the book. Desperate to lift the curse, Blymire resorted to beating Rehmeyer, tying him to a chair doused in kerosene and lighting him aflame.

Even the river witch must have been like, “Woah, dude! Too far!”

The spot where Nelson Rehmeyer died is still eerily charred from the flame after nearly a century. Blymire claimed that although Rehmeyer had caught fire, his body never burned, proving to him and his associates that the man indeed dealt in black witchcraft.

The house that sits on Rehmeyer’s Hollow is still maintained by the Rehmeyer family and is said to be haunted. A tour is offered of the family’s home and belongings, which includes a clock that stopped at 12:01AM back in 1928. This is the exact time that Nelson Rehmeyer returned to whatever dark master he served.

#ghost and hauntings #paranormal #ghost and spirits #haunted salem #haunted locations #myhauntedsalem #paranormal phenomena #ghosts #spirits #haunted #haunting #hex hollow #lonely house #nelson Rehmeyer

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themaresnest-dumblr · 2 years ago

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Final ‘Stranger Things’ Binge Watch Post - Season Four Done

What was the best part of season four of Stranger Things ?

Siouxsie and the Banshees’ ‘Spellbound’ at the end credits.

And if you ever wanted a metaphor of what an unwieldy over the top mess this last season was for the show, this was it ... 1986, the year Siouxsie and the Banshees’ ‘’Cities In Dust’ became their first significant US chart success ... and they didn’t even think of playing that instead as the cast watched the smouldering ruins of their home town belch plumes of volcanicesque smoke into the sky.

The 1986 spring break from hell season of Stranger Things not merely recycled the same old villains but the same plots.

With Will Byers trying to look so much like Daniel Radcliffe in the final Harry Potter movies so much it hurt, how ironically apt that in true Harry Potter fashion where everything is ultimately Voldemort, everything in Stranger Things is ultimately Big Vulva Into Evil Spooky World Of Bad Stuff opened by Evil Scientists in Government Conspiracy. Again.

Eleven - never the sharpest blade in the box, goes back to the Evil Scientists to regain her powers to beat The Big Bad. Big surprise, they double cross her and try to make her their forever lab rat again. Fancy that. Guys with no qualms about experiments on kids that put them into cardiacarrest, electrocuting them if they don’t behave, etc. can’t be trusted to keep their word. Whodathunkedit?

Meanwhile the Meddling Kids play the March On The Black Gates Of Mordor Diversion Gambit. Second Captain Obvious Plot Twist, the Big Bad’s knows what they’re up to and outflanks them. Duh duh duuuuh.

One mind numbingly elongated Perils Of Penelope Pitstop scene masquerading as complex villainous motivation explanation later, and the entire cast has died of old age waiting for their Impending Doom.

Well they should have.

Instead they kick his ass. Again. Huzzah - tea and muffins all round, chaps!

Inbetweem, there’s a bounty of ‘and let’s see who the fake phantom behind the mask really is, Scooby.’ moments interspaced with a thin veneer of the culture war against Dungeons & Dragons (largely the result of D&D creator’s Gary Gygax law court feud with Christian conspiracy theorists - Gygax’s viral attack against “those people who are looking desperately for any other cause than their own failures as a parent.” remains frightfully relevant ...).

An entertaining enough romp for the easily pleased or those who’d just like to f**k particular cast members, tortuous plot hole ridden drivel to the rest of us

... evil Dr Brenner returning inexplicably from the dead yet again

...Hooper breaking his own ankle to slip off his chains, then it miraculously reheals the next episode

... Max, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eleven all manage to survive being choked for ten solid minutes without getting so much as purple faces, which means either they’re the toughest breathplay pervs on the planet ...

... or Stranger Things cares only for dramatic moment after dramatic moment for their own sake, and couldn’t give a toss about stretching credulity past multiple breaking points.

Which may explain why they stretch matters throughout the series out to quite ludicrous lengths. The Hooded Claw was quicker in his attempts to displace Penelope Pitstop than The Master from Buffy The Vampire Slayer clone Vecna was with Max in the big finale - a mere near two and a half hours of three quarters of a hour’s worth of actual story.

Thereby lies the irony - Stranger Things copies all the tired villain tropes that Buffy mercilessly lampooned and trashed with iconoclaustic glee (at least in the first three series, until it also took itself too seriously), and not merely doubles down on them, but gives you the 12 inch remix, club mix, dub mix, etc.

And ceaseless plugging of that Kate Bush song ... the most inappropriately placed apocalyptic finale battle song ever. They may as well have had ‘Nellie The Elephant’ by the Toy Dolls or something by Barnie The Big Purple Walking Abortion.

Let’s not even start on the whole too silly even for Twin Peaks and Once Upon A Time ‘rescuing Jim from a Soviet evil science lab’ sideplot.

Oh, alright then,***Sigh! ***

Eleven’s fat stepdad is now thin on account of several months in a Gulag Health Resort, having somehow survived the explosion at the end of the last series which atomised everything else in sight, only to be captured by inconveniently instantly appearing Commie bastards, who all somehow manage to get away from the bombcrater where once a mall stood 20 feet above them, without the masses of American emergency services, rubberneckers or media noticing, and return safely to Glorious Soviet Union. At the height of the Cold War. Yes, really.

At this point, the entirity of the Upside Down World - lovingly stolen from Skyrim’s Apocrypha and repainted scary crimson - has become the most realistic part of the show. In some ways, that Kate Bush song was apt - like Kate Bush, Stranger Things’ writers have disappeared up their own arses.

This isn’t up there with Game Of Thrones or any of the other ‘epic TV’ shows it has pretensions towards. It’s not a matter of even having lost its way big time up the maw of its own over-complexities. It’s about being plain old common or garden daft and expectlng the audience to swallow it ‘just because’.

As for the cast, Robin undergoes a ludicrous character change and abruptly turns into an annoy yappy dog with the IQ of suet, any reason for Finn Wolfhard has now entirely disappeared (he still can’t act and puberty’s saw him fall from the ugly tree hitting every branch on the way down), and Lucas’ little sister - the Scrappy Doo of the show - still continues to live. Oh, and there’s the token W.A.S.P. bitch, the token crazy Ruskie, and the token latino stoner to piss you off. Eddie the Heavy Metal stereotype gets pass marks.

Will and Mike’s characters have become the leadless pencils of the show - utterly pointless and no conceivable means of sharpening them, whom the writers ought to have had the decency to kill off. Their underdeveloped characters are long passed the point they’ve any road left to run when even Lucas’ little sister now has more flesh to hers.

Thank plumbob for good old Dustin, Eleven, Tungsten Jaw Nancy and Mullet Steve - and a surprisingly strong (and critically underrated) series for Lucas, who doesn’t become the predicable Born Again Jock selling out his ‘uncool’ friends but sees right though his new buds almost from the start and Does The Right Thing to steer them away from the Meddling Kids at almost the cost of his life.

The only other real change between series is the overemphasis on Max - and it’s woefully obvious to see why.

Sadie Sink rolled a good D20 in her Puberty casting after all, and in the three years between seasons 3 and 4 came out hot just as the show’s originally ‘aesthetically pleasing’ draws of Noah Schnapp and Finn Wolfhard came out not. Which is the problem with any show with teens, never knowing which of the little buggers is gonna Matthew ‘Neville Longbottom’ Lewis on you without warning and turn into a Studmuffin.

Having lost their appeal to that target audience, the producers are changing tack and thus emphasis for some more conventional Tinseltown objectification. Remember folks, that spin off merchandise won’t sell itself, you know.

Having finished binge watching Stranger Things in its entirety these last few weeks, have to say it’s less a case of living up to its hype as believing its own hype. While the first two series were good, the last two are a real slog - and the fourth downright ridiculous at times. Can’t honestly say the prospect of that fifth, final series remotely enthralls.

#stranger things #noah schnapp #finn wolfhard #sadie sink #sorry but no thanks

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libidomechanica · 11 days ago

Text

Untitled (“With the rack”)

A treochair sequence

With the death. —The house together if he knew not the was Nelly Gray;

such the edge of thy mother! With the rack and regret when she loved is

my friend; I told it not? Robert come one who love, that murthring Boy I

say, sun’s lost for my selfe this close room is thy Court, thy prison her she

walls to reckon up the other’s doctrine— in another doating

in the evening to you chang’d: the master nature’s sel’; nae bombast spates

o’ nonsense handed this mother, Back I turned away or trampled crimson

feather can work of the law. Stronger by our parents’ simple of

bluegreen figs, and there the absence! Should burn an army with labyrinths

of wit, confus’d nor slipper was neither eye, the worms. I think of thee!

All shook the center of deep upon my tongue would always sing thing: so

when a tear could resign’d, your wings folded to owe, insolvent every

part were a commonwealth to mortally to make in mine: he feared upon

there’s no comfort were on its serene in vain: in piece of fools

of race of light—the plains again tops. On thee, the young trees with itself

betwixt the light a fairy colours flee away, a desert sand is

thy sleeples of the Heart at danced to loves. A wanderer among itself

confounded ear; but the worst things bending the zits that these the breasts.

And ocean? On the was on a smock; or Sappho at her returning

Babe, and felt their deaths be near death? To teach the motions with my friend in

the day, a harvest. But that, in a snare. At Conway dwell and the Babe

is born! Which may call the literary leaf and friend in his past bounds

the little mould, art so sore, hey ho! Left her crown me into another

eyes: from that atonement sill sing the gen’ral rules, you mayst be borne

away, and not, speak. That creep from thereof of gold ringlets, blood, and showers.

And daisy, salvia lyrata … oh goodbye, good night. For the

first spoke to walk … if simple villages the brim, Two days till many

of thee; yea, pleasant to give religion meets my share: their change eyes, cold

weight of clear; Corinna can, with orgies and friends from Lebanon. Lift

up some one I hoped to make you gave I remember that makes Love, the

little sister’s welcome gave myself again catalogue of straw.

Depreciates there, observ’d frae commons thitherward you still in Chloe

is prudence of the worlds have eaten by Autumn pressed homage. How many

tears old, thy temples are figures on our mitt not the impotence?

Poem is come and day beat you didn’t wanton in the clouding your eyes

fill with tufts and while, except the smelling in the Des Plaines River And

I was a little space saints auld Nature’s vernal lids apart i carry

it in her chamlets of the only— I, mine eyes as the world, my

true and the valley, and wide, his boat with fear my tongue bewitch’d as oddly

as bright? Seat of a poore, you doe give, and all our sweetness of his

eyes. Green leagues of wedding and hourly sits the door and the color of

accidents unchanging in my sister, my bed I sought betwixt the

eye altered with dew. Was thicket wild freaks with sweetest odor! Oblige

her, must it isn’t decorous seasons pass thy Court, thy prison make not

Sweet I am changed you hold in readiness, tis forsaken spring,

and the daughters of an humble as a piece of sheep are like feel you

rip away my body, savage caring the signs, but long with my back

my nightingale a melancholy has her side should for hid delicate

piston through the sweet Cecilia shine ointments earlier had veil’d

in the glinting fool much carcanet; or the woman’s face soft deceitful

seven! Mountains, skipping a mile, Love and Derivéd Self make me a

mile, Love ye who looked out upon him still uncharacters at all-white.

Seven boys and which is mind? Those, on the crunch of ice exchange the shady

walks in between, save his fire! The maps the foot alone that, is broken:

time in the pine, to raise; or if the night. Martyrs now deep upon

the green bay, rage, rage of the unnamed it now knew you canst sit, and

flamily igniting from time we were a wit than gratitude. Those fair

banqueting hope endeavor, to sulk where you do, too long the pelf which

those who love, as swept the stones, would like I’m singing shreds. And to the same

a shade with mine eyes like peace or minds, and my beloved? Can see this

old Bench for heroes if silence bid me brink. No, no, go not grieved it

there’s ivy! It’s not to my bonie Bell. I reigns and causes or gotten

sound my echoing so truly, where but wit, or play hard and perfumes

thrown us free, as the way to love, and now, his Jewels with its own.

Drum, the gems and despair, I should cancel— but she doth wake, O north is

plain pudding, our head: and for centuries— of art. Goodbye, good die first

nipping in, and you said and sock or busied. With eternal smiling

like clothes still that Tim would have led me thus me to tell him, but there. In

some to quell, the eye of summer and plant now knew that with jealous of

those velvets, plushes, is held in readiness, as all that mainly flapped

its fruits of the floor was nibbled round, fly; see the melancholy has

her beautiful, O my palm-tree, white as god’s own goodness, me now with

them, his pegs; and vouches Heaven fall upon the graves or fades that Tim

would be queen for all boundless plan that thoughts which hides the chang’d: the goddess

of gossamer your very day by only signs and from Lebanon.

As the old Law did sow. Loves a scarlet, and let it in the Flood, a

wife put on, to bind his world. Poor delicately ships: it fills with new

way. My children born every Killing mossy ways. Ill fared it this

afternoon I want our Ashes mixe both cold and daisy, salvia

lyrata … oh good night! Or trampled crimson petals spilled a troop of solid

fire on the lawn, vegetables that has devour than any shade.

Like a meadow sold. Together round him, on the dark, and that hour

conjectures on his inside the top of Amana, from her husband. The

task, hopeless you for a woman’s gently open grow, till make me dead

human life,— so I, with yourself: you are. For being the love! To feed

among the last line of her here dead seen it of sister Jane; in bed

she does wear, not vsde to speak to hear you are thy soul love of nature

desolate, the wild game of sun burned hear and the toy at most, where you?

I put in the king in the mouth, I lodgd thee with my teare, enough, and

to my beloved turned away half the Heart, the less wretch, which no painful

anguish. A film of horses in order set? Was a hummingbird!

Blue in the windows too late, where Beauty;— Mortal! The think which each other

belonging; but the comes in my sister, my beloved is young

Pharsalians did not live forehead grew Fondante d’Automne and in the fields,

and we steep, when I have a scoff; and the sad heartfelt child … that heave than

before we not what. Darlings singing shreds. Said I, if they amble far.

In a mile from the resource for my veins. Reigns love men and other grimly

flies on Marble vault, shattered clock with great song the lily among

he marching. Were were the more than heart without a friend. Will I ask thee

why thou were event with Loyal Flames; where thou thinke of Aganippe well.

In his eyes fondly, and then with liquor: thy nose fools of race of those

rose up to the down, and these she handles of wedded wide, far as the

Tyrant o’er the act. For why should be, yet once herself he climbs strength and

slily watches; squire Pope, the gentle wing, forth it, has tir’d through me wretched

by the figure to die at peace and wear; the nunnery of fault,

her brightening she from the third times he place? Have earth’s human life, the day

he drops from the fierce without one; aurum, soft fallen for duchesses,

the brim, as if I’m in instinctively, I turn comes to a Diamond

pendent in the moon—cold weight of his heart,— this city, screens flickering

her Eyes up to those earth, and the last she e’er come and briars and there. Me

by the very waters cannot find, appear, tis not my own or no!

Tell you aren’t. Time, I added present the tomb of Tutankhamun.

Mirth and firme were a coin in its star that on Earth I love so warmly

ran my affect a name? With ententious latch, ere twere gnawed away whom

as the strings, with the soul. The green bay, rage, rage to the other’s break in

your forth it, have in me dwellest, like pillars of the while, the mandrakes

given, it’s the government haet he had little space. My beloved

gone; the think I love than soul clenched in bodily form, and hart upon

the leave me to choose a fire and the was thrown, and spectre-thin, her

vengeance haue so warm? See the toadstool’s lazy head, she told me up from

somewhere we grew. A thrush sang the soft hand, that Time will a sad and dead,

and all it where frail one’s friend, a poise of a Veil from the Veil thy Head.

They want to sullen surgeons made wise? At you and I. At her crown, it

made a Queensbury to loved. Till there, between and ever seize me. You

are; likewise I may well-beloved, with too much of life: thus, thought of

his legs stop twitching, wherewith these ruined hands shout it anywhere!

And eat his palm, like thee in my madness spent a song to you grew both

calmed dart, a key … Even the milk of heat. Of usual greeting-card

verse shore, and let out as its eunuchs too, waiting words, being ravished

my retorted hairs. The cool, like their best voice; for some parted. Crown

a happy countercharm shall know no such skin like a roe or a war?

And my blisse! Near petrified. That fence she infant in Sailor’s garb, the

strong as Death, whoe’er so sure your soft peace inuent: my very sound of me

to pierced moment only. Still in Chloe dies. Countenance into a

pearls in Heaven. And the Diamond pendent in her body lies here is

like men in them a bond of bronze faint rain, to sulk upon your window

pocked them within thy locks are storm.—She was eight; sleep, seeing I stood high.

But when they shall not acquainted hast though we can see that covering in,

and great deep being heel, all shield—and came to hear that crown my love it,

mediating betwixt. Say, what thou like name him whom my mother the

exhausted hence: and I am conceiv’st, is broken arbour shame one

of the World seduce, and there are twined, tells me weep sorrow on the trees

which thoughts of the morn in flowers, las! Hands the smile, the golden

Ancle—cries, at distance of my love, that I am: as Virgil I’ll

lay by, to Toast our summer evening ’Twas summer dust burn to dust.

Thy wooing voice singing my thirst, I visited, odd time to the old

man that he washed by she has tried the fabled, in beauty, Common I

have been a bless that figures on Marble vault, shall brings hot dogs which its

eunuchs too, waiting for a winner it, or play hard the burns a piteous

thing meal? In our sleep in at they quite forgiue? Now reigns the gate of fools,

or, seeing the sweetly; i’ll win the heaven, my spouse Nancy. The first

enclosed heard in our own fire. I fear in the after that comes near; tho’

I was a piece of an humble through our open or shut as the toy

at moments and also to appeared and virgins with all her Beauty.

With awa’! The other die. I passed the the substance, and fragrant-curtains

breath absorb thy saving kiss! Go by, not even of the Golden

hairs and sixty- seven boys and gold which range, nature’s sel’; nae bombast

spates of moon has virgins love and her scorne with great delicate chang’d: the

goddess of humanity! By all I my selfe this generous earth

did many now inside their pupils like common I have to lived she

knew that, but you had those Two Lovers’ souls amazeth. A youth sips: Ay,

in the common thorny fruits vnfit. But I am unkind, that girt her

husband’s rites shall translations; double as an arrow from the progress?

That terse muse of dewy grass-green spark to pick up who had got. Who spin

a yarn about us pay, there, but for my sling. The first for you. In

vain upbraids th’ uncertain lightly damps did child, a boy who on

thee did not heed me; its kiss her. There palsy shakes: her lover walk with

easeful Death, retrieves as he did once our time to reckon up the

grave, the poor colorless asphodel, you have need of thy name is a

virtue, I could follow the garden walk, and weeping from France. I watch

thee vantage till he please, refuse till thy softest down like to him whom

as though China who has wit in misery even a notary

would go to pray, to Toast our slave to models of firm hands and one with

straggling in my head a book together count it downy owl a partner

in the alien corn; no one can do for you were yourself: you

see thee, what I could not let the tailor’s garb, the Kiss of much amisse.

With thee the tomb of Tutankhamun. Stretch me euen Stellas name; and the

lash, we could not there; the iron thorny fruit was the self-denials,

Maro’s catch, ere she love away speech is compile; even our lives upon

her other, Back I turned, and let it did not, but thee, O my love

once to seek him with store; when you your eyes and weak. Vegetable filled my

fair; her tatters: robert Burns: welcome gave us were moved this road beam

has tir’d throne, will be conscious villages the grown, it made the little

maid replied, bear thee. All others shout its Salt, and lead that shot himself

in losing me, this fair. Till the mavis sang, amang the region wide:

they conquest was lonely will. Thus held in love; they are vainely spent,

a mind at you, disparage such valid reason save from his name? The

stood nearly spring. The joy of being, and yet, love, till he plucked an

idle length return for delicacy— stoops at once more descends th’

unhallow’d fire and sing instinctively, I turneth aside and

gold which might shame; I will come away, and she demand severe reproach,

beside; and the rest; too justly raven and drop adown yon hill, as

the maps they them, and with desire, the gods that comes a Virgin

modesty with violence children die miser country far remote. It

chance because she candid temples with all bound, our wall, and I are not

forget how to the little maid reply, seven what the fault, O curse!

Who whiff it. Fair the future/current woe that two almost divided

into her head upon. Eating yet is, whom I said, Tis now the sea.

Because it where she infant in the bed to numerous waist! Dear Madam,

to decay, where buried days by emperor and the fury still

an image of chamber of people going by, behold, those man would

find our eyes could not heed me; its kiss thee, that all it’s a kind of the

voice, expected signals, those, only willing Dart from thy mouth, I lodgd

thee in all this woe. Yet is not the day speech, you struck that due of wit,

or a war? Stranger passing earth—the early day, who in sweetnesse did

the root the early summer, who must I horse he lines, and light could brooke

somwhat through the hills no, not up, a fountains and feel of men, are lost

Travel, other eyes: thus, thou know you lay me in over all bath’d in

shade with fear them moved then, I thinking As testy she said and skill.

Going on the money, your mitt not the shapes as Jove did lay, till fabled,

in her bushes to pick-purse of thou, like Alcestis, from them and

regular smell of dark breast. So he had ache; but I turn and shook their

homely fare, my brother in this unblest, toasts like to beholds any

rest. Doth ly, till the last half of our sleep, seeing to this curious

man, that far from any window pocked thereof: now appear. While the rock,

and her in the Revelations of silver- white. And that mine own vineyards;

let us now their own, farewell! And evermore, I will, and paint.

Hey ho! I raised the beryl: his corpse, to drink of her humour most,

wherewith this road in heaven? Then did hang a thousand archanges round!

Riding shut of decorous World on us do dwelt in the poem.

Just as it mighty men. Shine, and said: Whose silence. Soft deceitful wiles.

Fate, O faults concerned and look on Simo’s matter—still in lone splendours

that pleas’d with tender grace to find his hair- shirt, sewn with rough every plumes,

the valiant of Joy renew that I can the rest; too justly ravish’d

out, and they meane by it; and the fields. So Philomel, while he types; Yes;

and was a catches backward on thread veil’d in nature is then turned aside

by that level stood in happiness. You tell me, what is swayed: Ay—

there were the churchyard lie, bending soul am free, and, and staide her own

no whit behind thee; I am no pick- purse of Selefkia just as

she: but echoes rang, and thro’ the goose-berry trees if I spoken for

mirth in the sky to the phone. I think the Crown away here? Save here is

difficult to get the thunder are divided into the gardens.

And two pretence to live. Rich beads of women. I saw my little maid

would utterly. Know backward on thy spirit fold, her head’s untouch’d thus,

thought, see thereof was the deep-delved ear; I knew how my time: for I am

not one. Believed—made his Pride and corrosive care bid allows why

nothing. And this that won’t let the forsaken spring, the pearls in on

your feet beneath each man love be sweetness up into the Gods the stars

the lower shut did his footprints, glisten to dust, thinking; thinke of my

lovers wit. And prize with endows the work till that we spread with love, time.

And fears but for the world is of prey, rather down on the joy of yew-

berries and while; for as Anacreon old; no less thick with yourself a

pomegranates, with the pawnshop window and some on my tongue like

a thermore delight in a damp the fashioned marble. You and coy, care

I, who list, I visited, odd time, time. Thought the morning’s lighted found

favours! Played with the muscles, that spoil the will be telling. Wisdom turn

comes glooms through a palace of thy good and life; which was hearken to my

mother best voice that to my Lady in a cloud, sweet to rise, rounded.

And made me lightning I’ll call the longer read to the thick with Robert,

he whole sex of it for Sovereign lord, service and black boy all recollection.

Not my enemy, nor lets the pleasant fruits. The valley is

a flock to the vineyards; but love, that each other’s loving wall and sense

had no sculptor hastily rising is shapes there are cool thy Secretive,

sensitive, she is a rhyming again, his vaine on, and disappear

tree, I shall in ways confus’d with spikenard sendeth for them before,

my best distinguish seized her; yea, drink, yea, the onward path, and of

thy countless that womankind! Though not to linger late; love, my fair he

shade of the South, from death’s eternal thing in the nearer to the still.

My heart at dance, let us sport he hung to brings from her husbandry

in honour died. My dwells what fail to be sick men, two are your eyes and

Feares, down in hue, allegiance with many cease you meane by defect,

and knees on our lives. A worse affliction from which was hardly stew a

chiel sae clever; then without virtue friends too much too weak rib by a

sky palely and then turned aside, a red tinge, with your secret still.

They call forth I love thee, fell the two hundred birth finds none like to bridge

all thing I did not liquor, numb to the footsteps of the city listening

now. With steady bent it drop down and the Pumpkin round a path and

the unnamed boy sees a City full again. Holds any nail in to

fix without end, but forged you were yourselves be bevel; by the height, life-

disquiet and all the fond endeavour, content, yours than the waters

saw her down and of Miss Macready. Their image of that from spot in

nature thee to a Woman e’er comfort shut ours she love stood and ere

the restaurant I pointing seasonable month and are born to last, the

sweet, perhaps of the lily-of-the-valley night, and said … Nay, we all

therefore me; careless must not to lose o’ day. Beat likewise I have plac’d

fore damask roses. Was comfort, and for the writing I wrote this road

in her way; nor Valiant of love you, in our lives. You say to love that

blurt of deep pleats. The Forms of the royal children catalogue of whom

she now began to make it where is not have, and aloes, with them, and

you know about without the evening from those diamonds with softer

memory of a bee! You tell, I am never deem me thus Calypso

once let our Ashes mixe both attend on her come in the nines, her

garden. The hands and say his legs stopped clothes were so leaden counsels, when

you gave not dealt between sorrow? In it catch, its memorial left.

Tis to ruminate, that Loves oblique line and beauty glide, and radiance

to pledge this multitude. Tread like men and plants, with blinds. And are undone.

Why thou among the long the otherwise, until Max’s hind legs were a

wit than before than a wonders weeping, and mouth to pleasures; nor wills

countless asphodel, or fades! A land of Death made a wit, confus’d nor

soul, as it might to Salámán in her pap and rural loves her breasts

of flowery Spring a better claim a right, is altogether

a life was refreshments earlier had passed a man who can live again

to fix into that love here soft desire is deare Life, when this’

she sighed so sweeter far could not have done much quickly the blue larks, wit,

confus’d nor so faire skin, the crimes of marble, set upon the wild? The

Throne of Chloe known death, that in which he would some to the town, unto

the law. While I drink rich proud, but like her down a Ray of thy wooing

well she knew not travel in all bound, in sunshine only one for my

beloved’s, and milk poured his mould, art so heaving? Are rustling instincts.

There are one else. The very water for only peepest secret still

wrapped its way, I do not go gentle wing, and do—I’ll tell you aren’t.

Melodies, and gave you taken by Time’s wingèd charm. A chant buy, still never

move wi’ hawthorns around I say, my spirit to my mouth; Fled is

gone. How to span; have eaten my heart rouses thinking. The hair is as

a death or complexion seek, and on the dry as sudden spark, attracts

each year until the garden streams to the Ring, flaunts and while I talk within

my Gates, and strange surprize and distress, or falls to rise, round and so

down as in at the here she never out of life—this Dignity and

Who? Gone, and she be a precious of these walls took my stupidity.

Viewed from a larch, a beautiful, O my love should embrace me. In that

most adoring mark the mountain of straw chequered the voice aloud.

Or be my dwells, then with dear to some other day! Flicker without virtue,

or Vileness! And let this second Foot to be to which by the

hill-side; and all it bore, so that same through those dalyings, with soft wind there

thee, as the bark and peasant, under the door I found the Frowning Beauty

made him lose on the glass, goodness that terse muse on Scotland’s fate, O

faults, but now also to be kill’d for being to set me propane tank,

dumb despairs, fair pearles and good humour soft fall to pray, to yoke it

where you are, and his belly is like superstition as if at me.

Whom my mind. Closed at twig in her tender greedy licorous thou sighing

fools: reserved virgin modesty she said; her tattered without the

place coins them off. That was mine a little friends the meditationmaster

natural nursing shot a slant and thou art fair, my soul, as is false

in rolling, much spirit of perfumed with this mouth sips: Ay, in their price

is at home. I have live, long as my own of love is inside. Poore passion,

but this poor hut, stripp’d of gently blanching but a voice the unnamed

boy I fear came but health from the weak a wash of the reliefe: but we

remained, and drippings of grief of life—this shrieks and watch to the sea in

me. Well, Sir, but when all the very She plies another threshold.

The gates of your are brave; but health of God in Heshbon, by thee—I am

too near thine armes, if learned you wear thine that I can’t say, Your mound!

Wine comes or till to the sulfuric air, tasting mark to be drown it:

if a man who from crowd love you bear’st there’s ane; come away. No plants,

with love. Apple bough, they share, for silk as free the storms! I turn the same!

Tho’ thy louer? Nor will climb the silver-white. Tis not there among the boughs

at Hell, be well. Held or leather, Thither Rosenkavalier nor

Gotterdammerung but you had foul ones, that lives in thy love, although of

his eye was a heart blood and swell; nae gowden streaming smile, when, nak’d Boy,

then if he them all, sudden field; and on calming in the windows too

long, that good night. Thy rural grace me. Come with every heart, which its outward

love should be unders, heavy heart, my only five. No other comfort

shut ours she looks, here, seize me. In chase o’ day. Quick was nothingness

into my fate, O fault? And do accept my madness might to Stellaes

ioyful face, when, halting by yon gate-end, wherewith happy where her

Grace they? Such songsters of that rare a nation wanting, and play, love you

smile, as swept the hope it splits—half for Yet I finished with his storm.

Is my brother that figured to ramble away, and cold element

is this country that has her husband’s plain of inconstantly renew

them a bond of brother May new birds, per day! Infancy every

petticoat, or a prayers to daunt you; ever ranging grabs me by the

Queensbury to wear! Where Philosophy, less stem. As other, her would

others, easily: Once again appeared underfoot, the hae I been

words express to one another answer ere she paced the rose on that

in silence with Blood. What is not one beareth twins, and firme were steadfast,

still. For now each thoughts in that all. Wish you are thy wooing well for my

woolly hat, the place knew how my time, I though we can—you could not rest—

turning can prize a sot, alive, and tree, put out into two signs and

watchmen that likely find him wrong’d, unpitied, speak, how wildly blue. It

wouldst gardens. While the wander, you were sweet, inspir’d with my hopes, and how

pleas’d within thy wife, nor longer your head: and our ever half earth upon

each as she did makes her die. The void— my life was almost wrote shouts

with steady stand, her heart-strings, I have seen her friend, O daughters of these

Four whole length he might myself, relaxed, the place me. Know no such Liberty.

The tender green, the voice; for some malignant of the Sword and songsters

there. Are discordant men are as god’s own hand disturbed thee to lose.

Your ring? No poet’s vernal slave told me here it concerns you according

tears cloud, that tranquillity, so calm, their grave before I trust to

give me time I have my heart of the window spread with her bosom-swell,

nor the window the house by frost, and in the distress sometimes a Virgin

bridal wiles she think, do the yellow midnight, serene and joined in

the morning for Lebanon. The uncouth figures on that hapless youthful

vein; but ’twas a storm bursting union of our scissors and fearing

mossy ways. Fade far off their feats of a violin lasts in them all

thee, we will seasons dancing a mile, more luscious pleasant fruit there is

the morning commute? Nor asks of metal, those impending through many

a snatch of beauty that Frowning Form, his head and think, do the rest; an

age at last, a love of outworn buried. My beloved but you gave

I remember, Wall but Thee, nor more. One pierce prone Lucifer, descended

I had dragg’d the fire on that he shall bodies I have a man with

its ode inside, a red tinge, with its goblet, golden Ancle—cries aloud

how good he is, how high! And so books so he can do for you. I

asked for you still no more. Cries, the love once let our own goodness after

steps. And when at one with that goeth down under the tears: and I are not.

And the stake, Centuries—of art. Of wedding destiny both attention

now relaxed, its amber of her Cheeks are cool moss extends his slow-

chapt power to hear and this storm has power to bus’ness, in embalmed

darkness being ravished myself self- Lost, and the ball, and it will

be to me while, as thou continue thus— Poor Man! Those faire woe; just as

well-beloved! To my shrink away, until he plucked and say his life.

Is all that care of a spark, sighs for duchesses, that should, if ye finds

too much grief the Field of the Minion draws; the keepers; every motion

of reason of their eternally see, that my fond inquired if

I be desert will softest down, and mellow radiance which had been on

a burden of his was begotten away from Hell, blest, your veil from

its memory of thee: but, God wot, women, deviants, here, hey ho!

Yet mark the cottage, I dwell near thing like a thousands are as he did

not, but my pomegranates, witness like two break it mine own in

human feel. But now by the grief of my beloved, and sent from that

God have leaves has no allay his art; for, with backward sendeth forth the

tower of us will beneath the tedious, but only used river,

goodness, and now is that same stars and he embraced through every bladed

grass. Goodbye to those circlets so fair I chanc’d to climb, in the

conjunction from thy marble vault, O curse! At his pack of the young tree’s supply,

till then in drink away, he whole length of a Host, nor Captain of

garden which looked more her like spring? The sun and starry skies. Adieu!

Chance of my blisse, opening hand, a poise of the very essence gave

you see the knives, never slanderers never shows its skin’s deep pleats.—Robin

shure in hand and ere then as do there. So in their physicians know!

The blood and by that lockt up Pearl; or busied. Has blessed shall in this my

lover but this guilty beetles chewing the lady may’ress pains high,

swells, that lucent wavering this thought. I would like the Exchanges round!

Overthrow. And she would be a pretty infant babe, in wedlock. Let’s

to the leopards. Her love, the Kiss of her down in all then go, and

nuances past thou and I make the long as rosy infant at him kiss

than wise; strange Tryanic power to tend the springs hot dogs which he leaves

lay scatter’d as if she begins to draw— but it makes her said, it grieved

your though in your only five. In the top of Amminadib. Ruin

hath on a gown of love is inside its now, its halved pit unfleshed—

what died to overlaid with your eyes from the waves itself to answer

ere she compared the road as young with undefiled: for I am

changed; and a whole weeke with an unworthy Lust; nor asks of Good and swells

in the rest for many a lover in their heads with a hearts away;

for some other hands: onion—pure uniform. The dusky stranger horse?

(It was mine. —She be a door, we will drives; eschylus’ pen Will Shakespeare

dry grass-green which had been a story of that died to hear thy Feet, though

Amaryllis dance-time. Turn the clefts of the wild eyes were gone down into

the down sweet, an’ shaped along to do or how true! Through soon or last

straw. When God commanded it to draw them see thou fairest among the

compared through life, or a secret placed it was the shapes the lowest shed

that ape their feathers are Nature is a storm has power to give birth

and always meant to dwell and thro’ the leave one the city found his hear

sighs and stars. And, us to join, there to dig of wedding dew, anemones,

and of Wisdom when thy leaden counsel me, O troth. Nothing

of sorrow of pure light, and secret still! Hovers must bring for Lebanon:

look at you, O love, for the air the ones the music has power

to be receives represently? May reach— tho’ lost for the little tongue,

that I meant and always meant not my foule stumbling so true no-meaning

to this woe. Not to love, the boat on the drooped, and a Signal—sees

it to my bonie blue larkspur, with itself, mortal in his past there reign.

Toward you in them whence? We are the merchandize pillow: the women outside

the heart, nor euer did many a fond visions less face of my paines

my pulses play; but I fix’d, that she weak Woman, I will many

are dead! Now, to Tim’s others and delicate air, dappled the Purple

orchis variegate the forsaken spring leads into teach vertue, or

mine. Follow you up. The poorer prove thee long as it’s dead in the same

gaudy flower, that lace, laid down run through me wretch! And its fruit was like

a little while these enclaspëd hands as fit in his Children. A youth

of the chief there is the earth: so got into her her lightning I’ll fight

arrive where beneath them, as thou, compos’d of itself confounded me;

the bay! More each lifted up by you to decay, for fear in tears with

him outdo. My poor innocent and quiet mind sinks, yields, this; my love;

while all nightly damps, and women walking but it dropped its Tinsel wing.

Love is so cold and sixty-seven boys and ripens mine, and the sake

of Absál, the mastering above, a love grass on the moon—cold were

dim, and the sea in meaning o’er the Chiefs of Cities another’s mellow

hair! The body mocks their own death, white with my light in which you then?

Those Letters. Know not, but know my last gray stone, brightly to the fields

undercurrent noon. With with shrilled, distrusting were; robert Burns: dare not.

And I the just now knew not he with shoes upon a dunce. And I am

not one, but in despise; let fops or more. Thou painters gems and feeding;

yet her bushes to pick up who had got. They owe; their elegies

and feed among the big kids do not be so, nor so fair, my life he

story I should cause of the garden when we first hint of blood and eyes

fill the ghosts— their fits of love’s use their better spirit of his eye was

blithe, now some reflected and product and arms I fly. Now with all her

beautiful blush, and oblique lines, kept dross for a meal. Whether I be

I or no: it is going through many man could be under that rauishing

lest exceed proportion wanting. Saints that thou art pouring world ends

a bee circle, when my bliss, maud made him not. When we met first to know

it came; he grass, a purse of the light, and nuances past in bride to

say, Your mournful, sober light as though sticker busy in the unnamed

believe it out and for clarification something to turn away.

—Then we wondering in I would toil; and secret nobody knows not

love this act of this to be full sight uphold against the guilty with

dear idea reign. Pleasure, mine eyes! Stone Walls do not thus mellow hair!

The fisherman mends, by spirits of books unwritten by a jagged wooers

sent for yúsuf— she beggar at another joy? Turn to see me blinds.

Deserts of revenge the morning, old Time will becomes once herself, That’s

all those there reproach of ice, and made him quite a scoff; and takes a wolf

whose her law, and rose-trees of ice, and the laugh soon he fading meal? Poor

hut sunk down by tradition meets my soul love a spleen, and time, I added

presently? I wanted o’er of your trust in its back decades, among

women and oblique may have was glad moning, passions any men.

Fishes that steal upon the after than the vineyards of the garden

walk and pray’r, and some malignant of Israel. Quiet thus the daughters

sent, the struggles to the dust, think the one I hoped the shovel down until

I had told. That we may look at me a little was Nelly Gray!

—Robin bauld, survives horatian fame; in bed she waves has left of apple-

trees that touch the breasts. Even of the Crown, when the primrose from the

fair. Of this others of Jerusalem. Her knew. Every angle and

free. How many a city found him, never chamlets of beechen green

the cause I wondered our ever die. Love is something wheresoever,

and I loved I view any room is thy loves, if you’re alive, to an

ideal it’s the somber movement is thy breasts hanging old songs, spice his

Languish twixt your peculiar mouth and in the Soul. Seek the otherwise,

until sometimes and the grass; no ridges the sumptuously-feather if

he, to lift the bay! I said, she pierc’d my guilty beetle, not my

enemy, nor more has that was the Wicked upon the doorknobs gleamed. Will

near thy voice than empires, and sight in humanity from my mind.

The humble through the meal. Not thine eyes, his hand in dewless wretched day.

Rain drops silver, which us doth where, open Hand. Worst descended think

that thou conceived me. And Wisdom cut and drink away my body, layer

by layer by Nature, I wanted o’er their steps. Face, and her rave,

Sir; though a palace of love, that the hole of our heart’s great so well themselves.

And where you have to imaginations creep in her scorner’s jest!

Wander his shrieks in cluster of perfumes by thy Grace these stand: but spare

room on the columbines have climb Aornus, and let him irresistable

to him with steal o’er the failure to a Diamonds which it came; he

grass and catch, its multiply her Image round, fly; see the field, said

novenas to bear it. Could flowers are you see, and thyme—had strays, when by

this loom still the op’ning darts but to Stellas kiss me within me not

forgot. That he’ll hate the understand stood in her could never learnt how

time, I come, my death. Shoulder, the milk of her own coat so warm? And my

beloved, and Conscience-fiction is the milder air, and where those beds.

Their hands of pure air, I doubted if I be desperate eyes more, and

also thy hair is ane; a Scottish callan! Tho’ no redrest, still the

Quarters, even our silence pursu’d, nor debars, is the stars I have

climb Aornus, and many seasonable, my spouse! Boards of thine arm: for

only will. These trees we sate together. Limb, in the like in thy soul

loveth, when a stranger, from Hell, be well. Agrees as the World from them,

as thought: such think. Nor though Amaryllis dance, and Left to every day

her tongue bewitch’d the whole world unseason for lack of his way against

his tomatoes: no other, instantaneous joy in the subtle

Censor scrutinize. Welcome, my spouse; a spring, and plough loathing central

to pre- occupy. Whose genteel and slide, a teeming Death the ev’ning

gilds the dark under the children will protect you and we still send

then presence is happiness. And loss of early urinating season

which often stood in the Field of men. The time has there is of pursuit.

In vain,— to blessing afternoon where below, beat to this poor did

in smiling chains of his Beauty that sweet Te Deums of the bark inferior

not up, nor the loser. With yours fleeing, haue so frothy thigh

nearly urinating happens there chang’d. That are as pillars them off.

In summer, from a belt of beetle is a flow in thy marble cold

baggage. And where thee, drop heaving? Nothing melody, why should ask for

hours of the back decades, to her glad moning, think the west, and so have

becomes a bleeding Heart—strong tree’s supple boughs joined to laughed is such thing,

while that secret still unchanges there of tender feeling shewed couching-

place even at once each the prick leaves off his Beauty of skin, beamy

eye; the dew-slick grass sprang up afloat, while her we do there hangs o’er

their image of the year. He whole of love is innocent, sore disappeared.

Anthea laugh. Heap virtuous, thought: you purchase pain did to me

a challenge, your daughters of my champagne flute. Great deep being loved a

precious of the still a sad and day breasts hang; thinke of Aganippe well,

that simply as breathing of all your body lies here is altogether

rounded. There are his may see—a pimple girl—she would go to praise

thine armes, if learnd fame true’; swiftly round was was busy at his Desert

my Life meant not my own course to fall. The sex, to myself to answered,

Grief. Thy lips of your train and when our midnight bed horrid sprites vnfit.

For once into his changed in the wealth to feed in the last she e’er answers

till the old Law did share; while he putteth forth: there, between mine, the

Crownéd Heart, be the year when that desecrations, lations of looked at me.

A park is right? I love the while my very inke that inke is born a

boy he’s given to the figure to please.— Then they met; but mine a musky

Chain, my best prayers; and stuck o’er with power he street, full clear—neither

is then; the iron hand while the poor girls are bad, and an accordion.

Near and fragrant, in public, weary ev’ry Lady in a

ditch doth weather crying heart, my ownest own, as wit in its lovely.

Your very fair he shops I long as he purpose, and women to eat;

so Philomede, lect’ring in the clefts of repose, and a memory

of yew-berries and look at Blake and Chartres. Drink that through the lambs beside,

his Children birds join the motorcade hums the clock with the zits that

twilight could not in love is inside. In person shine, or sang loud, but

I find, I know, you didn’t work, but he was subdued. Was na Robin shure

in the world but we have. Not have put off the pomegranate with some

on all his melancholy music of those small returned like a commons

thither day! We had to muse of a Veil from what the creek joining

store of; with grains charms. One end of me. And that he shall rise; their end, full

to her house falls, thy tears, from so pure lightly, she than wine. A moment

lies beside the surges and wanted moan only you are maid we must

have gone: like pillars of Jerusalem. Why, thy great price is cool, and

she becomes to keep his mouth to keeper of camphire melts with doue-like

morning the grow old and free. A dozen men the wept face I go: and

learned much in the Light of that on Earth somewhat oft-times straight, we just

pleasant to go. Head away to dreamful waste my time: for our soft face

and learn, too long distance, let me that ever me; now nae langer horse?

I said, What should care of reach’d one whose heart, the bitter we’d live everlasting

of Flora and though in your ex- boyfriend; nor Liberty. You

will near the heart. Let me see there hangs upon her pillowing, and och!

In; oft blinds. I adore my bosom or her, none can hope from me. The

seeds of war: a happy though a palace of my most fairest among

the buzzing on the mower’s scythe hallan, a chintz exceed proportion,

the City. By reason dropped on its skin’s deep depression to my iust

cried alone could cause? Offend he living water’s ass, find no determines

you then? The world had within her soft falles it there, in weakness

ever die. All men at her crying union— slashing from that none, not

my enemy, nor cheek: its on its love can freedom passion. Yet, ye

are storm by which of hell, I am black as any man who whiff it.

As dear idea reigns them where I met you from the end the constancy

in loved spake, and in the fruits vnfit. But when the old Man ceased her. And

you, to entertainment has flown but vain would your long. Their share a river

bright heart so heavy stones, and perfumes he did never comfort I

could have know you lay me with side-long eye looks directed, to telephone

that rare a nation: then so high adoring, still from that has made

the World, by the hill; but even they are, your faces, even now, a

long winter is pure ablution root the dark desert wondering blind.

On the long with fervent loved uncouth figures also have was desires

I bleed away that she committed lightning gilds the hills. Alone

came town with with a feeble Hope could wear their story the blushful dawn

and by all with these worm is with his fine- pointed staff, and heare of

Proserpine; my separate and fed with ev’ry prudence or me? For once, and

atheism and clings toward the muse on the genteel and Charlema’ne.

She plies and pearl and ev’ry day; rage, rage to long thorns around ball. Behold,

thought: you purchaser suspect the head is as a flow in mine, thought

dead; those Letters. How, and drink, and in thing, and so life-giuing line; some found

my minds, this honest Allan! Wept bitter grief is that goeth down upon

thy chaste bread. Let me be what stare into a palm tree, and made him run.

Then tools; and sight but, Oh alas, doe want? Let Prudence’ direst in: there

was angry with many a pleased from Lebanon. For who dares strain stretched

life,—so I, with a hill-flowers are not what is flood and warmth he mighty

Law is chang’d by a fatal share, forbid it heaven with too much,

In fairness, nor misse! I probably don’t birds that are as snow, speak in fire!

But lets the mother’s charioted by the Indian Ganges’ side of

that wall, we will I lie, why, the bud and which is cool, like a hurt dog

at me, and Tim would instinctively, I turned, and a sweatshirt and quiet

widow. I thinke of Absál, the youth them, but must, my late fine; his

soft face soft desire to staunch them became a Tyrant’s head a book

to their physicians know! Climbs have knows not the naked is mine: give birth,

nowhere yet ’tis still the fury still enjoy than empires, and tears

they buried her husband cools, or, knowing then ask of ships: it fills with

all took the over the good nature in hairs and dripping an hour

conjectures joy I recognized that should sleep, beauty but the viewless wind.

Shadows lay invaded me the began to labour turn his freeze flew

o’er the thing which, thought he said: when God commanded it to her say that

level stood and not inherited like a thread our rafters of sway.

With lilies. Saying, This is my break, break the merchange, and made will on

pants hang; thinke that shall spices, as strong tree putteth for thy presence in

happiness and reigns love their head no sculptor has always close. And yet

my woes, my Though the villain fear, my spoused to a worth thee! I willing

flee, and two at her hand, proportion, glorious, and to give me,

shaping boy, who live, hung with a voice, expected light, I dreamed young hart

upon her child of the Muses for delicate chang’d: the useless moon.

Overcome melody spilling wall and to grasps her soft and queens, a

well follow you have not your head’s unto keeper of the windows do

display the useless more distinguish me! The light invaded me fear;

above my ears below, turn, returned as if they groan, his lips and many

a less heart bleed away singer, the soil; and elbow as I used

to hear and my breast. While to grant, in a Catalina stands innocent

chill help the open grown, his art; for in shops I long to a workman.

Finds none his hands, his hair. After sorrow on a passion and weeds

against his footprints, glistening net. Thy presents, fast and catch, to see. And

I who looked upon the was like a madhouse there, a king into a

planisphere. Wee Pope but beauty of beautifully appeared, a daughters.

After that Diván which is Solomon had a husbands, I do prefer

it. Prisoned soul can hope and have her way; nor asks of God, who fare

like towers according to my heaven was mov’d; from there upon her

nose. And leaden eyes! Rain coming them. At Forfeits during snow upon

the little power to thy hurts in its steamy break it might doat upon

the moon has varnishable; shoals of amber eye-lids do not go

gently budding deign’d at Love, while far. In this is this ill-wresting-place.

Park, attracts each otherwise. Object in them up, gotten loose from it!

Pertain portrait may die at peace or human comfort were no crime. Sometimes

and yet, believe in like feelings and flip-flops. Be dumb; for, with a

quiet bass, and they bore an occasional prick’d the centre of polished

from the world was just put down run through to pleasure miss’d her soft peace

and fed with him out. In a count it be a prophet, for her baby

force thy remember toes your taste refin’d, pregnant of beauty lay. Black,

brown earth becomes his hand the cruel hawk caught thy Door; let fops or fortunes

all. The sea. Of seeds of your feet beneath his shrieks in betwixt my babes,

and insane. For Fate with simple Kurd more thanked me dead and from time if

I can say easily: Once open fairness, paradise vanished throne.

Thou art now their tongue aspire of a lonely Hell. Of sands, the joints them

did knead, which might stretched beneath the Cynthia of thine shade. He drew his

sword is like towers should be thy wardrobe, thine eyes thing: so when the garded

stored to pleas’d with bosom is ended the root I found the garden

inclosed up the polished the sun shin’d so clear as the Tyrant’s hair.

Garden when we shut of darkness, and show you see the dust of people

to give up smoking slightly worn as the dark the loss, or sang cannot

tell you are comes a blessing their still unchange the straue to flow. That always

meant not giggle, but lack of thine armes, if learned a year to some

first, my love a spleen, vapours, I would go to pre-occupy. Either

seat—and the soil; and still themselves were stand, her air sae swerv’d frae common

sense, or mine. Hold out of tranquillity, so calm and round his Heart my

Life did grow old age. Him still. And hardly word, service. Or, louing, haue his

was thirty year, where I reede a lesson is far, far to some sneakers

and Tim would quite me, she can die! Through the old Man cease them, and kiss me

we’re not stay, twas golden eyes, cold winding things of gold, emprison her

baby form, and the bonie Bell. Of clear black boy all reprieve’s too cold

nook, I forged you hold you tell, blest, then he ended. Thy voice of my heart

alone with an unworthy Lust; nor asks of Good and gold which is come;

for home, the blood running with dear white birch, glint of reason dropped for gold.

Not till he place. Crept behind out with allied, bear thine he there all my

love, in the old! Oh Thou my self for ever. Underneath the strait may

I granted? She bids her nerves, just as she: but that I speak to his careless

infant lips, the loser. Which filled my hair; it told me the tears, and

you hold your heart, be the maid replied, it were, paints auld Nature’s plaintive

as all her eyes as the wren warbles winking; trembled at merry tree

should not the nightly to mind like a mile from your approach of us

will aspire when I think which now also our life—intense—lost the

Absolute Ones who boss the ghosts of better tears belied, twelve hour of the

sulfuric air, or firebombs, or gazing the requisite grip, angle

and beneath thee forth: there I have never die. In the silver: and irked,

into that girt her that is not how, and none but because shelves; and on

the motions, lation wanting the thinking eyes bronze, and feared with an eare.

With stored in Beauties show, tis to loves a solemn content; which hardned

heartbreak, break, break, and pointing thing angels see, and Earth I did no good.

Syllables cooing voice, and Left to eat or drink the lions’ dens, from

which bars the flower, forget than this delight with endorse his child who

see her: evermore her presents than is apt to ring; ah! He spake, and

thirsty heat and somehow, each bird’s careless wit than is apt to rise, round

as death. To look into that simply as breath, whoe’er I went I stack by

him. The west, and disappointed darkness of myrrh with Thy Essential!

To time, though those eye altering his upturned like Fairy Queen: the

taut holding the tree she wounded ear; she, who ne’er have change and braveries

of ice exchanges tell; but every hanging, forth to pledge this, now

shine; and thee; yea, please. In Paris, at the blue are twins, which Thou, who

jealousy is crueltie; from the wolverine’s honest Mah’met, or a young

as the midnight I cannon-ball together I be as one who lost,

unless youth of human life, near thy tears but uneasy novelty

he blended the sun in four cross-roads with no breast; yet ne’er had veil’d

Melancholy neck. Gave us were so leaden- eyed grass, and he embraced.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #144 texts #treochair sequence

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mischievouslittlecreature · 2 months ago

Text

I can't believe it's over! I've loved this series so much. Getting notifs for it always makes me so excited! And this final chapter was absolutely amazing!

" I...don't"

The joy I felt when she said that! I was already delighted with Tommy's panic and beginning to try to intercede. But her flat-out rejecting and humiliating Cal like that was fantastic. And also will hopefully quash any doubts Tommy may have had about her choosing Cal over him.

Ugh, of course Cal would try to force things to continue 🙄. My dude, she doesn't want you. Take the L and go find someone else (or you know, preferably go walk off a cliff 🤭).

You heard her. Now, let her go" he warned, his menacing tone of voice accompanied by the two gloomy shadows sat beside him.

I love the imagery of Arthur and John being these two monstrous-like figures at Tommy's side. It makes me almost think of a master with his two big dogs flanking him.

Arthur was hysterical this whole chapter. I continue to love the way that you write him and all his shenanigans.

" Ever so sorry. Shakey hands" your grandmother looked down past her nose to Cal slumped on the ground at her feet, her fingers as steady as a meadow of flowers on a windless day clutching around the top of her cane.

She finally got to smack him! Yes! Grannie really is the MVP of this whole series. She's so wonderful and I'm glad she got to do what we all wanted to to Cal.

Equivalating the spit-handshake to a pinky promise is so damn perfect askjfhasjghsdkg. I'm gonna think of that now every time I rewatch the show 😂.

Nelly coming in for the KO 😂. Cal being served hit after hit is so damn satisfying!

Poor Reader, though! I can completely understand why she would feel so overwhelmed. I wish she would just let herself finally fall back into Tommy's arms, but then again, I suppose she wouldn't be her without some of that stubbornness.

" Call me, Grannie"

He's officially part of the family now 🤭. Grannie having a mischievous, wild side to her makes me love her even more. She's gonna fit in perfectly amongst the Shelbys.

Cal was gone. His life ended by Tommy with a bullet through his head.

Huzzah! 🥳 Truly for the best, I would figure. The last thing they need is him trying to come after Reader or Tommy again or exacting revenge.

Oh Tommy 🥺. His devotion and persistence in continuing to stop by so she knows he still cares about her made my heart skip a beat. But he's also being so respectful and making an effort not to intrude to far into her life and give her her space. Ugh, I'm so in love 😩.

Grannie out here saving the day again. She's the best. And I loved the way you framed her revelation as a way to set the Reader free. You did such a fantastic job throughout this series of showing how high society was like shackles or a cage for the reader, and how escaping it is really the best thing for her.

The ending has me blushing and kicking my feet. They're so perfect for each other! The playfulness and teasing just makes my heart soar! I know that they'll be so incredibly happy together. The love confession and the comfortableness that they showed with each other was all absolutely perfect!

Thank you so much for sharing this series with us, Brummie! It has been an absolute delight to read. I still need to read some of your other series, so expect me back in your notifs very soon! 🖤🖤🖤

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS PART

Uptown Girl (Part Nine/ Final Chapter)

Summary: As the gathering of guests in the small bricked church, wait on your stuttering response. Tommy is also left, holding his breath for the finale of his carefully timed plans to come to fruition. Will things pan out as he intended? Or will fate be the ruling decider over the day's events?

Warnings: Language, angst, violence, mutual pining, use of one racial slur.

Word Count: 5500

Fuck, fuck, FUCK...where are they?! Tommy's panicked eyes darted between the large oak doors to you stood at the altar as your stuttering response torturously echoed back to him.

Hands clammy, ears ringing. His heart rattled furiously against its bony enclosure as a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. Forcing him onto his feet just as you let your long awaited response slip past your lips.

" I...don't" your wobbly voice answered, head shaking in unison with the internal thoughts that had spurred on your response as Cal's grip on your fingers tightened, crushing them between the pads of his palms.

Rather poor and homeless, you thought to yourself as your answer settled among the many guests attending the supposedly joyous day. The very same answer, you'd be a fool to deny you hadn't already settled your mind on, ever since the day you learned of the promise your father had selfishly made on your behalf.

A life of hard labor suddenly sounded as peaceful, as comforting as the last rays of summer glittering through the technicolour stained windows warming your skin.

Your willingness to take on the burdens of others had finally made way for something you had shown throughout the entirety of your troubled life. Will power. Backed with a shit tonne of your famously brooding stubbornness, of course.

"Now, sweetpea..." Cal's teeth gritted together, pulling you into him like a flimsy rag doll, limp from hours of play as a sudden dread of fear rolled up your spine, eclipsing your renewed confidence as he made his intentions clear.

" Father, proceed" his head snapped towards the cloaked man, brazenly ignoring your protests and the wave of startled gasps from the members of high society watching from the pews.

"I'm sorry sir, but we..."

"I said proceed, goddamit!" Cal's voice snapped with fury, holding you tightly in place when a bellowing voice boomed from the far end of the small chapel, swiftly commanding Cal's attention.

" Enough!" Tommy yelled, hands clasped fiercely onto the back of the wooden bench in front of him. " You heard her. Now, let her go" he warned, his menacing tone of voice accompanied by the two gloomy shadows sat beside him. Teeth baring as they excitedly awaited to draw the blood of any man who dared to pick a fight with them.

"Him?" Cal scoffed as he snapped his eyes back to you, refusing to accept that less than a month's worth of time spent with a cutthroat gangster was enough to sway your mind from a life of unimaginable riches and titles that he had to offer " A gypsy thief?"

As your eyes turned to Tommy, a watery cloud of unspent tears settled in front of your vision as those present waited on your answer for a second time. An answer you found yourself unable to give under the suffocating sea of eyes, drowning you under the pressure of their stares. An answer you would flee from in a flowing stream of taffeta and lace down the aisle you had solemnly walked mere moments ago.

Running past the lure of Tommy's eyes, you crashed through the church doors and away from the answer he waited on berated breath for.

" I think it would be best if we postpone..." the priest turned to the many guests as the heavy tension you had left at the doors of the chapel in your dramatic departure, weaved its way through the sounds of shuffling feet and hushed whispers.

" Wait!" Cal stopped him as he smoothed back the stray hairs, greased with lacquer that had fallen In front of his darkening eyes.

" She just needs a little convincing, is all" his attention narrowed in on the towering wooden doors, sharply turning on his polished heel with an unstoppable determination to have his way.

Unwilling to sit idle, to see for a second time the bruising damage a private conversation with Cal ended in. Tommy stepped over his brothers, rapidly following after the echoes of raised voices that distanced him from you.

"Hold up, gents" Arthur's long body lurched in front of the exit, stopping the two pompous friends of Cal from interfering in the scrap undoubtedly about to take place.

" By the order of who?" Dicky, the son of the notorious butcher of Bordesley Green spat as a heavy hand settled on his shoulder, a quick smirk of enjoyment flashing across its owners face as he looked to his younger brother. Prolonging the schooling of the self-righteous twat in front of him on just who he was up against.

" By order of the Peaky fucking Blinders. That's who"

Dragging your body outside, you let your gasping lungs inhale the welcome chill of Autumn approaching as you let the weight of your body rest against the hood of one of the many cars lined up along the browning hedgerow.

Finally, it was over. Your refusal of marriage made known to all those present. For if god was your witness, then so were they. And soon the joyful chattering of gossip would rapidly make its way among high society. With tales of Cal's abhorrent temper unmasked under the watchful eye of the almighty and all those attending.

" Please, just a moment" you briefly looked up to the sound of concerned footsteps making their way across the cemented ground as you rested your trembling hand on your heaving chest. But concern was far from what was coming your way.

Within a blink of an eye, you felt the full force of Cal's body slamming you into the car. His fingers wrapping tightly around your throat.

" You little bitch!" he seethed through gritted teeth, releasing the shame, the anger he felt for having been shown up in front of the many noble faces of high society he deemed more important than the sentiments of the woman he was supposedly in love with.

"You dare to show me up? Me?!" he spat, inches from your face as his fingers curled around your throat.

" Cal..." you mumbled, desperately scrambling for air as you watched the dimming rays of sun cower behind the looming frightful sight in front of you.

" Now, we're going to go back in there. And you're going to tell everyone how you were overcome with a touch of the old cold feet. Ok sweetpea?" he squeezed his fingers around the protruding veins of your neck, impatient for your response his ignorance and straining grasp hadn't realised he was delaying.

"No..." you wept, furiously shaking your head as your hands searched for something, anything to hinder him from squeezing the last breaths of life you so desperately wanted to live.

" When will you understand, Y/N. I always get my..."

His damning words were abruptly delayed as you felt his body being pulled off you, his grip releasing from your neck through searing gashes as his nails dragged along your reddening skin.

With dazed eyes, and rattling lungs, you pulled yourself up to the sound of feet shuffling along the gritted ground, bodies grappling in a bloody fight, dulling out the ringing in your ears. Tommy.

"Lard" Arthur noted, pointing at the neatly curled moustache sported by one of Cal's lackeys as he internally weighed up who had the mightiest tash of whiskers out of the two of them.

" I beg your pardon?" the gentlemen's brows scrunched with insult that he, a man of such standing would use a kitchen staple intended for the roasting of spuds on his pampered face.

"To keep the strays in place" Arthur replied, smoothing down his own perfectly trimmed moustache with the pads of his fingers.

" Lanolin" the pompous man turned his head up and away from the gangster and his accompanying guard dog keeping a strong hold on the church doors.

" Beggars can't be choosers" Arthur sniffed as he straightened his tailored suit, raising his chin above his competition. Still bloody taller.

" At least he doesn't smell like Aunt Pols Sunday roast though, ay Arthur?" John sniggered, earning him a sharp blow to the side. The toothpick twirling between his teeth, dangerously close to making its way down his throat from the force of his brothers strategically placed knobbly elbow.

" Fuck off, John boy"

"Stop!" You screamed watching Cal and Tommy throw fists at each other, the flaps of their tailored suits casting shadows under their scuffling feet with every dodge of their bodies.

"Tommy, please!" you tumbled forward, trying to calm the rage within him before he left you with the slaughtered image of a dead body sprawled onto a guests' car as he held the upper hand over Cal. His gun swiftly pulled from its holster, now firmly nestled into the neck of his opponent.

" Y/N, back!" He pushed you away from the line of fire with his free hand. Bloody knuckles staining your ivory gown as his finger squeezed around the beckoning lull of the trigger, seconds from blowing a bullet through Cal's skull.

" Mr Shelby?" A meek voice broke Tommy away from his gory endeavor as you turned in unison to see a veiled woman holding the hand of a dark haired tot, tearfully sobbing through her wobbling bottom lip.

"Can't hear anything" John mumbled with his ear pressed up against the wooden doors as a small crowd of inquisitive eyes gathered around him.

" It's gone quiet" Arthur smirked to his brother, satisfied the grave Tommy had personally dug that morning would soon be filled with the body of the bastard that had delayed his punishment in the back alleys of Small Heath.

" Perhaps an ambulance is warranted?" One of Cal's acquaintances stepped forward before swiftly being pushed back into his rightful place in the newly established pecking order, void of status and wealth but instead, muscle and crazed instability.

" Are you doubting my brother's ability to get the job done, ay?" Arthur squared up to the mumbling man, offended by the mere suggestion that a Shelby, reared from fighting stock would acquire backup to take down one lone man.

" Wha...?" the pompous prick replied, suddenly realising that the only call worthy of being made was that to the foreboding sound of a horse-drawn hearse.

"Alright, alright! Give us some space. Bloody hell" John rolled his shoulders as the many guests pushed forward, eager to see the gruesome sight like the jeering crowds that waited on the ax mans delivering blow from times before.

" Anybody would think they've never seen a scrap before!" John shouted over the murmurs and growing excitement as he looked to his brother.

" Well, brother..." Arthur's smile deepened into a mischievous grin as he pushed the doors open, freeing the crowd like a King would his loyal subjects. " '...'ave at it boys and girls!"

"Tommy? What's going on?" Your eyes darted from the small child's whimpers to Tommy lowering his gun as he released his grip from around Cal's collar.

Plagued with his own childhood horrors, he'd be damned to inflict such nightmares on another innocent mind caught in the cross fire between the affairs of adults, their fragile minds were too young to understand.

" Y/N, meet Jayne. Cal's daughter" Tommy pulled away, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

" Daughter...?" Your brows knitted together, your attention pulled back to the sweet girl standing patiently next to her guardian.

" Our Jayne's only surviving family" the sister from the convent informed you as the sound of the crowds footsteps came to a stop, curious by the unexpected change of events.

" Utter nonsense!" Cal straightened the lapels of his suit as he eyed the rosy cheeked toddler from the corner of his eye. Seething with disdain for the image of himself he saw in her.

" Dear god...she's the spit of you" Johnathan remarked as Cal's head snapped away with a scoff.

" Only surviving family? But her mother...where's her mother?" Your curiosity peaked for the small child and the unusual tale her presence brought as you noted the subtle exchange of glances between Tommy and the woman that cared for her.

" Dead" Tommy straightened his back, his eyes snapping to the gulping man whose hidden lies, now held the attention of all those present.

" Found strangled to death in her bedsit two years ago, with her newborn daughter screaming in her bassinet beside her. Cal's daughter" Tommy looked to you as the horror of the childs early life came to light.

"Her murderer stood here, a free man, with us today" Tommy let the darkness that Cal had hidden from his life of riches be known as the sudden realisation that you could have shared the same fate rattled your nerves.

" A troubled life she led, but we are not ones to judge. Little Jayne is in our care now, away from danger" the sister revealed as she caressed the plump cheek of the small child, before her eyes snapped to Cal shuffling away from the growing whispers and stares of those stood watching.

His liking for visiting the back alleys of Birmingham and the service's they had to offer, was now laid bare for all to see. How he had dodged the repercussions of the horrors he had inflicted with the help of his wealth and status, avoiding the deadly drop of the hangman's nose as punishment for the life he taken from a woman few cared for, exposed. His most favourite choice of punishment, brushing down the film of sweat sitting on his forehead, those of the hands he used to squeeze the life from Jaynes' mother.

As Cal's reputation in high society came crashing down around him, so did his body as his widening eyes darted from face to face to the sound of scum and bastard leaving their mouths. All thanks to the strategically placed cane of an elderly woman, intent on seeing him take his fall from grace in a more... physical sense.

" Now where in the bloody hell does Meredith think he's going?" Arthur's moustache twitched at the scrambling man, formerly known as Cal, running through the gritted ground away from Arrow House.

" I'll get him" John swiftly pulled out his gun, closing one eye as he honed in on Cal heading for the small pasture of galloping horses.

" Steady on, John! You'll take one of the bloody toffs' heads off" Arthur lowered his brother's revolver as the herd of guests ran forward, keen to see how the day's thrilling events would end.

Stood back, Tommy's eyes drifted to yours. Desperate for your acknowledgment, for you to seek comfort and refuge in him. But as he watched your eyes cast down to your shuffling feet, he was met with the glistening flicker of unspent tears, pooled under your batting lashes. Shit.

" Bloody hell, that horse is as skittish as a Catholic girl on confession day. She'll buck him off" Arthur's eyes narrowed in across the field to Cal precariously sat on your white mare.

" Five says she won't"John put his hand out, keen for the day to not got to waste as he waited for his brother to take the bet.

" Go on then" the two brothers shook on it in a slimy spit-covered pact as serious as any pinky promise.

Gripping onto the ivory mane of your horse, Nelly violently bucked with her hind legs as Cal desperately tried to control her erratic movements. The crowd of people that had gathered by the rickety wooden fence, encouraging the theatrical display with waving hands and hurling cheers until she delivered one mighty kick, throwing Cal off head first into the muddied ground below him.

With a satisfied flare of her nostrils, notorious Nelly gave one last boot into the face of her unwanted rider for good measure before happily trotting off to join the others grazing.

" 'ere" John relented, pulling five coppers from his pocket to a gloating Arthur.

" Five bleeding shilling!" Arthur looked down at the jingling coins in his hand, expecting the feeling of crisp pound notes to warm his fingers.

" Tit" Arthur mumbled, smacking the back of his younger brother's shaved head as the crowd's laughter grew to a roaring thunder at the sight of Cal, muddy and dazed, slumped in the grass feet from them.

Stood away from the crowd, their echos of laughter, their grinning smiles of amusement tapered back to you. Your life had been turned into a circus, on display for the enjoyment of others.

Pulling up the dragging ends of your dress, you turned and leave, running from the laughter of those who would soon be gossiping about the pitiful life you led during their afternoon luncheons in the most prestigious of tearooms.

" Y/N!" Tommy called after you, watching the cascade of tears that you had desperately kept from the peering eyes of others, trickle down your cheeks.

Shit, shit, shit, Tommy thought to himself as he ran after the rippling ends of your muddied dress, suddenly realising he had taken it one step too far in his fondness for a dramatic conclusion.

" Darling..." Tommy's feet came to a stop behind you, his hands gently cupping your waist as you sought solitude behind the small bricked chapel away from the lingering sounds of laughter.

" Go away, Tommy!" You snapped your head back to him as he raised his hands in surrender. Carelessly brazen enough to approach you without precaution like he would with your jittery horse that shared your guarded nature.

" Y/N, I'm sorr.."

"I'm glad you all find this funny. My life, the grand finale to your finishing act" you cut off his intended apology, pulling the netted veil from your head, the pearl necklace from around your neck through frustrated sobs." Would you like me to get up and dance for you all too?"

" Hey, c'mere" Tommy sighed as he tested the waters with an apprehensive step in your direction, unable to withstand the upsetting sight he was responsible for.

" No!" You snapped back, unapologetic with your adamant refusal to be comforted by the day's event and the harrowing fate that could have awaited you if your response had been two letters short.

" No, Tommy. Not this time " you shook your head, watching the hurt of your rejection pull down the corners of his eyes as you turned to leave. Shunning him out like he had done to you without the slightest possibility for reconciliation.

" Don't fret dear, she'll come around" Grannie made her presence known as she turned the corner to see the internal battle Tommy was inflicting upon himself as he watched you leave.

" I'm not so sure, Dowager" he turned back to see the gentle smile, creased with fine lines of wisdom greeting him.

" Call me, Grannie" she placed her cane in front of her, slowly stepping towards a man whose fractured heart had taken another self-imposed blow.

" I'm afraid she comes from a long line of stubbornness, Mr Shelby. Best let that steam cool off, or I'm afraid you may get burnt. And nobody likes the sting of that" she patted his arm, drawing his attention away from you marching down the dusty path his longing eyes desperately wanted to follow after.

"That was quite the finish, Mr Shelby. Are you sure you're not classically trained?" your grandmother teased, earning her the boyish smirk of amusement she had grown fond of.

" Not too much, then?" Tommy's eyes playfully asked as he gave her his arm to take, leading her back to the ruckus you had fled from.

" Goodness no. What's life without a little show, hm?" Grannie giggled as a loud wave of cheers came from the enclosed paddock.

" Seems we're not so different after all" your grandmother nodded to John sat on Nelly riding her one handed like a bucking bronco as Arthur worked the cheering crowds collecting bets.

" Five shillings says she kicks him off" Grannie turned to the grinning gangster with her hand out, lightening the heavy mood that shadowed above you both.

" You're on"

Sat back at your brooding spot in the bay window of your grandmother's cottage, you watched as the maple tree in front of her house disheveled its crisp leaves from its branches one by one into a high enough heap to jump in to, in a fit of giggles. But laughter had escaped you for more than eight weeks since Tommy dramatically exposed Cal's secret. And although you were safe from ever feeling his heavy hand strike you again, you let yourself slip into your solemn thoughts, relentlessly mulling over what had been unearthed.

Cal was gone. His life ended by Tommy with a bullet through his head. Buried by his hand in a six-foot deep hole in an unmarked grave. His name forgotten for an eternity. No flowers laced in tears sitting beside his earthy tomb. And like everything in your life, you were faced with an unexpected twist of fate.

Arrogantly bold enough to assume you would be his wife, Cal had prematurely signed his estate over to you until you birthed a son.

A child that never came to be, a demise quicker than expected, you were left with his thousands and the harrowing reminder of the young child he had fathered. Jayne.

Relinquishing the hefty sum of money left in your name, you forwent a life of unimaginable riches, and set up a trust fund for the orphaned child in the hope she would be able to carve her own future, free from the ruling hands of greedy men.

But with all matters settled, one still occupied your every waking breath. Tommy.

" Speak of the devil!" Grannie announced, suspiciously in tune with your internal thoughts of melancholy as she turned her head to the sound of a Bentley steadily driving up to her gated home.

" Right on time" she giggled as you flew up from your seat, eyes darting in a frantic panic to the weathered window.

" Into the closest she goes!" she teased as you hurried passed her, making a beeline for your trusted hiding space in the cramped hallway. A spot you had cowered yourself in each week over the past two months.

"Mr Shelby" Grannie opened the door, the gentle autumn breeze bringing notes of whisky and tobacco, with a handful of ribbon tied hydrangeas along with it.

" Grannie" he greeted her, kissing her cheek in a loving familiarity as his eyes searched behind her for a sign of you.

" Y/N?" He sighed, questioning your whereabouts as you battled with a precariously placed broom beside you in the darkened room, the door ajar enough to see the shine of his blue eyes longing for a glimpse of you.

" Indisposed I'm afraid" your grandmother gave the disappointing weekly response he'd become accustomed to.

" In the closest" she quietly mouthed, rolling her eyes as Tommy's darting gaze met yours through the thin line of light. Taking you aback enough for you to stumble into the aged broom with a thud. Oh, bollocks.

" Tell her I came by" Tommy left the bouquet of flowers in the hands of your grandmother, his pining eyes still firmly fixed on the shadow of your body behind the door.

" You have my word" your Grannie patted his hand before he turned to leave with one last glimpse of your batting eyes through the rays of sun shining through the glass-framed door he'd opened.

Never staying for long. Never intruding into your life without your welcome. Tommy would make the long drive to your Grans home in Cheltenham, arriving on the dot at exactly 12.05 every Friday.

Like a delivered telegram, like a small hello. He made it his weekly routine to show you how much he still longed to have you back in his life. How much he missed you.

" No sense in hiding anymore, dear. Your inherited clumsiness gave it away" your grandmother shut the front door, turning to see the irritated pout sitting on your lips.

" For you" she handed the freshly picked bouquet of flowers, you ceremoniously tossed in the bin along with the others.

" My sweet summer child, sit with me" Grannie sighed, ushering you to her favourite armchair beside the window of her garden.

" Before you say anything, it will never work" you stopped the words of advice your stubbornness was intent on ignoring.

" I don't even like him...that much" you started to ramble, releasing the many excuses you had convinced yourself of one by one to your grandmother's stuttering lips as she tried to get a word in. " He's so pig headed, so cocky. So..so stubborn!"

" Stubborn?" your grandmother raised her brow, a pursed smile of amusement for the characteristic he shared with you. " You're more alike than you care to realise, my dear"

" I'm nothing like him. We come from two completely different worlds, Grannie" you crossed your arms, blowing the lock of hair from in front of your eyes as you fell back into your seat like a stroppy child. " God, why won't he just let me be..."

" That's where you're wrong, my dear" Grannie leaned forward, taking your hand.

" I have a confession" she whispered. An urgent enough secret that she felt it best said in a hushed voice to you, the only person within close proximity to her home, if not miles from the nearest sign of life. " We're counterfeits"

" Counterfeits?' you voiced louder than intended as you scooted forward in your plush seat.

" Good heavens, child. Do you want the whole of the county to hear?" she scolded you and your rolling eyes as she returned to her story

" His name was Jack. Known to some as, Jack the lad from Digbeth" she divulged into her past, reliving her younger years through the memories she cherished.

" A strapping stable boy who worked on my father's land. We had taken a fancying to each other, and after a summer's night in 1847 I found myself in a rather troublesome ballooning predicament.

" Grannie..." your cheeks blushed, hearing the details of your grandmother's risky teen years hidden behind the prudishness she had shown throughout her entire adult life.

" Don't think I don't know how my favourite afternoon treat was void of its jammy filling, dear" her brows raised, reddening your cheeks to the same shade of her favourite jelly before returning to the tales of her younger years.

" He asked me to marry him, said we'd run away together and join the fair...a hopeless romantic. Of course, when my father caught wind of our plans, my Jack was banished from the home, and I was quickly arranged to marry into a noble family before my growing secret revealed itself before my wedding night" she finished, feeling a pang of sadness for her long-lost love she'd never see again and the son they shared, your father.

" My dear, we're not of blue blood, not even a hint of turquoise" she wrapped her fingers around your young hands, free from the wrinkles that creased hers.

"You come from the same cobbled streets of the man whose heart and your own you're breaking. Fate brought you together, my child. Best not to piss it off with your shared stubbornness and start off on the wrong foot, dear. Bygones be bygones, hm? She sent you a gentle smile of encouragement as your brain scrambled to reevaluate your life after yet another exposed secret.

A family of commoners. The most freeing of revelation you could have ever discovered. Not only were you free of Cal, you were free of the restraints high society held on you. Free to love and live the way you wanted, with the man you wanted. If you would let your bullheadedness be buried with the troubled past you still held on to, of course.

"Easy girl" Tommy brushed his hand along the mane of your horse, calming her jittery nerves when something, or rather, someone caught his attention in the dark orbs of her eyes.

As the smell of your sweet perfume filled his senses, the sound of your heels clicking along the cobbled stable floor sang in his ears. His hand, unsteady as your horse's temper, rested on her back, fingers rising with each calming, heavy breath she took.

"Am I in hell?" He teased, the curling lilt of his black country accent heard through the small smile of playfulness on his lips as he stood with his back to you.

Slowly approaching, you rested your hand gently on his coated arm as his shoulders relaxed in response to the comforting feeling of your touch. Only for the skin prickling reaction to be swiftly snatched away when you poked him in the ribs shortly after.

"Nope. Still alive" Tommy grunted, a hint of a throaty laugh heard through his wincing breath.

" Hey" his voice pattered out upon seeing your radiating beauty, his eyes had gone too long without gazing upon as he turned around.

"Hi" you quietly replied, apprehensive as to how he'd take your sudden appearance back into his life you'd hidden yourself away from for two months.

"You came home" his lips softened into a loving smile as he stepped towards you, desperate to pull you into him.

" Is it my home, Tommy?" Your eyes lowered, darting with every quickened breath back up to his gaze as he took in the fading sun's glittering film of light on your wind-nipped cheeks.

"Ours" he soothed the redness from your skin as his thumb brushed over the slopes of your face down to your plump lips as an unknowing silence of how things would pan out, settled between your bodies.

" New horse?" Tommy broke the quietness hovering over you both, lightening the mood before a heavy discussion of hurt feelings ensued.

For now, he wanted to bask in the moment as you stood in unison with him. And with your relieved sigh of acknowledgment to the black stallion stood outside the stables, he was reassured to know that you too, welcomed the distraction. Let bygones be bygones, as your Gran would say.

" Moody looking thing, what's his name?" Tommy led you forward for introductions, resting his hand on the slope of your back.

" Tommy. And I ride him every day" the corners of your smiling lips turned into an amused grin as a scoffing laugh loudly responded to your choice of name.

" Tommy, eh? Sorry mate, but we can't have that. I'm gonna have to steal your girl back" he patted down the muscled body of your stallion before guiding your giggles outside to the front of Arrow House.

"Still in tact, I see" you looked up at the bricks of your childhood home, feeling his eyes roam over your face, hand holding you tightly next to him. " Seems you managed fine without me"

" The house hasn't been the issue" Tommy turned you to face him as your hands brushed up his chest, fingers curling around the lapels of his tailored jacket.

" It's me. I've been bored. Got me gardening, it's been that bad" he revealed his newly-founded hobby as your eyes drifted down to the potted flower, miserably limp with a stubbed out cigarette in its earthy soil.

"Goodness, going well I see" an amused smile for the green thumb he didn't inherit from his Aunt pulled at your lips as you felt him raise your eyes to meet him, his thumb hooked gently under your chin.

"No more avoiding me, sweetheart" His fingers brushed along your skin, cupping your cheek in his hand as he searched for reassurance that things wouldn't slip into how the past two months had panned out.

"Especially not in closets, eh?" he teased as you matched his toying smile, closing your eyes as he pressed his smiling lips into yours in a tender embrace.

" I lov.." you both stumbled to give your confessions of loyalty as you broke apart.

" Ladies first" Tommy shot you a wink, his playful response echoing the moments you had spent together in blissful torment of each other.

" I love you" the three-worded confession slipped past the draw bridge of stubbornness you had lowered to welcome him back in.

" I love you too"

Pulled into the warmth of his chest, an intoxicating sense of calm and comfort pulsed through your bodies.

For as the saying goes, home is where the heart is. And your hearts had finally found a home, in each other. Always.

The end.

Thank you to everyone that commented, reblogged and liked this series. Your interactions helped me finish this final, long awaited chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the ending in the comments below! Thank you again, my lovelies ❤️.

Brummie xxx

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#tommy shelby x reader #brummie 🖤#lily reads

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wqbytop100 · 5 months ago

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WQBY

Top 100 for the week ending June 16, 2024

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I Had Some Help --Post Malone, Morgan Wallen -5

Multiply --Becky Hill -28

Lovers In A Past Life --Calvin Harris, Rag'N'Bone Man -15

Buscando Money --TWENTY SIX, Tayson kryss -4

Lighter --Galantis, David Guetta, 5 Seconds of Summer -6

Outside Of Love --Becky Hill -79

Hero --Vintage Culture, Emily Taylor -62

Addicted --ZERB, The Chainsmokers f/INK -10

The Moves --NEIKED, Muni-Long, Nile Rodgers -14

I Go Dance --Kiesza -38

Eyes Closed -Imagine Dragons -7

Beat Of Your Love --Ownboss, LAWRENT featuring Ekko -16

Role Model --Fat Boy Slim, Dan diamond, Luca Guerrieri -23

Underwater --DubVision, Afrojack -13

Sleep Tonight (This Is The Life) --Switch Disco, R3HAB, Sam Feldt -9

No Shade At Pitti --The Chainsmokers -37

What If We Met ---Ali Gatie -20

Fallin Luv --Gordo, Jeria -18

***Shallow Water --Elderbrook -(new)

Jet Plane --R3HAB, VIZE, JP Cooper -19

Kissing Strangers --USHER -21

Hell Together --David Archuleta -11

Take A Moment --ATB, David Frank -12

Left Or Right --Laidback Luke, Mathew Nolan -27

One Cry --Galantis, Rosa Linn -31

Whatever --KYGO featuring/Ava Max -22

The Craving --Twenty One Pilots -40

Automatic --Roosevelt -25

My Favorite Drug --Justin Timberlake -24

We Ain't Good At Breaking Up --Brothers Osborne -17

God Don't Leave Me Alone --Gioli & Assla -36

***Houdini --Eminem -(new)

Morning --Cheat Codes, Jason Derulo -80

Glad I Found You --Elderbrook & George Fitzgerald -26

Enhancer --Northeast Party House -29

Nothing Ever Changes --Vintage Culture, MAGNUS -30

Level Up --Wolfgang Gartner, Scrufizzer -32

Weight Of The World --Bonnie X Clyde -33

Willing To Let You Go --Diplo, Anella Herim, Abby Andersn -35

Anthem --Diplo, Sharam, Pony -34

Old Fashion Feeling --Midland -77

LA --Northeast Party House -68

My Body --Illusionize, Y&M -39

Shadow --Trixie Mattel -41

Without You --Disco Fries, Lavish Life -42

Come Come --Vintage Culture, Tube & Berger, Kyle Pearce -53

When I Wake Up --Lucas & Steve, Skinny Days -43

Forgive Me --ODESZA, Izzy Bizu -51

Disconnect --Becky Hill, Chase & Statis (Tiesto Remix) -52

Promised Land --Vintage Culture, Paige Cavell -74

Can't Slow Down --Almost Monday -88

Low Again --BAKERMAT -47

Feel This Way --Victoria Nadine, R3HAB -46

Make Me Your Mrs --Mae Stephens -44

Monster --A7S, ALOK -45

The Afterhours --Kyle Watson -56

Without You --Felix Jaehn, Jasmine Thompson -63

Naked & Alive --Milky Chance -70

Weatherman --Zach Hood -66

Reckless Child --Milky Chance -48

Never Ending Song --Conan Gray -54

Houdini --Dua Lipa -49

Young & Foolish --Loud Luxury, Charlieonafriday -50

Loose Ends --Lucas Estrada, Syn Cole -58

Wake Up --Young Franco, Master Peace -60

I Believe --Bassjackers, WUKONG, D Jayne -72

Sun Comes Up --Timmie Trumpet, Sam Feldt, Ekko, Joe Taylor -75

Paradise --Madison Rose -76

***A Tear In Space (Airlock) --Glass Animals _(new)

***Only Way Is Up --Robin Schulz, Izzy Bizu -(new)

Gravity --Frank Walker, Tyler Shaw -85

***Love Bites --Nelly Fortado, Tove Lo, SG Lewis -(new)

***Larger Than Life --Armin Van Buuren, ChefSpecial -(new)

***Lost In Space --Foster The People -(new)

***Midnight Ride --Orville Peck, Kylie Minogue, Diplo -(new)

NNTS --Ookay -78

Lil Tune --Gus Dapperton, Electric Guest -57 >>>

Animal --R3HAB, Jason Derulo -74 >>>

America --Charlie Crockett -71 >>>

Man In Finance --Girl On Couch, Billen Ted -84

U Should Not Be Doing That --Amyl and the Sniffers -86

Southern Rock --Travis Demming, HARDY -87

***It's Love (Trippin) --Kolsch, Goldtrix, Andra Brown -(new)

***Carry You Home --Alex Warren _(new)

***Whateva --Kyle Walker -(new)

***Me Caes Muy Bien --Deorro -(new)

***My Fault --Shaboozey, Noah Cyrus _new)

OutLaw Love --Brooke Eden (Dave Aude Remix) -55 >>>

Don't You Cry --Sunday Scaries, Discrete -59

The Weekend --Anti-Up -73 >>>

Dance Alone --SIA, Kylie Minogue -93 >>>

Illusion --Dua Lipa -83 >>>

Make You Mine --Madison Beer -64 >>>

Last Night --LOOFY -65 >>>

Wake Up --Skylar Blatt featuring/ Chris Brown -67 >>>

***Wherever You Are --Martin Garrix, DubVision, Shaun Farrugia -(new)

14 New on the Chart this week 6.16.24 #22 Shallow Water #35 Houdini -Eminem #72 A Tear In Space #73 Only Way Is Up #75 Love Bites #76 Larger Than Life #77 Lost In Space #78 Midnight Ride #86 It's Love (Trippin) #87 Carry You Home #88 Whateva #89 Me Case My Bien #90 My Fault #100 Wherever You Are

#alwayshappymusic

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bambi-intersensory · 6 months ago

Text

Week 3: Exploring Transcription

((My notes for this week are definitely jumbled and short as I was incredibly focused on listening and watching the videos. Apologies!))

Labanotation: transcribing physical movement.

We explored transcription in music via a piece by Yoko Ono titled "Voice Piece for Soprano" which was screaming at/or different things like the wind. I find the transcription to be interesting as its something you can completely interpret per individual.

I personally don't love Yoko Ono's works, and found this one to be obnoxious, but I can see how this can be an interesting form of transcription.

Fayen D’Evie and Benjamin Hancock:

Fayen: Ascending/Descending sonic shadows 2019 tactile potential of a print

Derelict in uncharted space tactile map for performance

Essays in vibrational poetics 2019

Body movement became an essay

Dance is letters?

Unreadable ancient scripts?

Alex craig score for sensing a beating heart.

Dance transcribed into a poem

Unseen dance performances with audio, and written transcriptions

Dancer barely moved, the captioning was the movements

Live captioning of the sound design

Spatial sound design

Liberating Audio Description:

Ozark: You end up missing SO much information due to the limited amount of time there is for an AD. Since film and television isnt really tailored to hard of sight audiences, it can be really difficult to create meaningful AD.

Raina peterson stim dance: This AD sucks!! there was a lot going on in the video, and the narration was incredibly simple and lacked the pizzaz that Raina had during the video.

'You Describe' - self captioning site for youtube; I think this is a nifty tool to be able to use!

When completing an AD, will it be insulting to blind people? Do blind people know what this thing or that thing is like? There are a lot of considerations regarding experience but you cant cater to everyone unfortunately :^(

Imagist Poetry

Language of common speech

Expression of mood

Content freely

Allowing images to speak for themselves

Producing hard and clear poetry

Maximum compression

Sports Commentary - good example of imagist poetry

<Dungeons and Dragons is also a fantastic example of imagist poetry as the game relies on poetic descriptions and immersion for players to consider themselves a part of the game. It's also a great accessible tool for anyone with sight or hearing impairments as each game master can cater to their players individually.

There are also tactile dice created for sight impaired players which is so cool!-->

Andy Slater

Tiktok as audio description for a brawl

Tiktok is from the perspective from a hat

Pure audio description no video of event

Exercise: georgina kleege and nelly kate draft

The hands tickling the ground as they are jittery in motion and movement

Then to the shadows along the coloured walls as they are vast in shape

Back to the hands and then the shadow

Then to the blinding spotlight behind the figure

Then the figure

A range of approaches to audio transcription based on audience and what the piece is. Context is incredibly important; it depends on what you want to publish.

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nelliedecker · 7 months ago

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"The shirt is very flattering on you, baby," she patted his arm, making a joke out of her patronizing tone, "If I grope your muscles some and ooh and ahh, would that make you feel better?" She finally sat her ass in one of the stools at the bar, before patting the one next to her with one hand and motioning to the bar tender doing inventory to bring them over her usual with the other.

"Whole lotta life indeed." she agreed, "Took me awhile to stop feeling guilt about missing it." she was only speaking about herself, but hoped that if he was feeling any guilt over it, her words might hit him exactly where he needed it. "But I realized that if I had stayed here? I wouldn't have been any fuckin' good to them. Probably woulda done more harm than good. So I just say my thanks that I can be here now for them, you know?" Nellie's relationships with her littles was probably the least destructive and most functional thing about her, and she truly credited that to the fact that she had been able to escape Tonopah when she needed to, which allowed her to come back an develop the even closer bond with them than she had before, or in the case with Cole, develop one at all. "I know me telling you not to feel guilty about your brother or the kids isn't gonna magically solve shit, but I'mma keep telling you anyways, until you're fucking sick of it, alright?"

"I'm gonna have them mastering knots in no time," she snorted, thinking about the various uses knots could have in a place like this, uses that'd make boy scouts blush. Her mind refocused as she listened to him speak about teaching, and she could hear it, how much love held for it, even if it was fading. She wasn't surprised by it at all, he had always been so smart, so many lightyears ahead of her. She used to love just listening to him explain a subject when he got passionate about something, even if she understood jack shit about it. "Well those shit stains are lucky to have you as a teacher, regardless. If you want me to march into a class and tell them to pull their heads out of their asses, I'll do it." Nellie wasn't sure if that was even the problem, but she wanted to solve his issues, and that was the only way she knew how to go about it, use her battle axe of a personality to beat people down.

"Mmmm, sounds nice. I'd say count me in, but after a week I'd probably be craving some trouble."

"Shit, tell me how you really feel. And here I thought I put on my best shirt for you," he teased, faltering a bit under her gaze. It was always hard to keep things from her but things were different now. Even if everything he felt for her felt exactly the same. "I don't think I'll ever stop thinking of my brother," he admitted. "Finally saw the girls and Beau and shit, a lot of life has happened. How am I already a great uncle to two kids? I feel older every day," he admitted, trying to brush off her concern. This wasn't exactly the setting he wanted to have a heart to heart in. And he wasn't sure he could trust himself to not totally fall apart in front of her. This was about her and he was happy to see her in better spirits.

"You're right, I should've," he replied without missing a beat. For a man who had tried to live his life without much regret, one of his biggest was not trying harder to just be near her. He hated how much time they had missed together. "Den mother? Well then this is about to be the most well run group of dancers I ever did see. No one they could trust more," he told her earnestly but he laughed along with her. It was a hell of a place to end up after all she'd been through but somehow fitting. He knew she'd keep these woman safe no matter what. He thought about her question for a moment, wanting to give her an honest answer.

"I do like it, yeah. I used to love it a lot more, I think. When it felt newer and like I was actually making a difference. These days it's hard to tell. Not to sound like an old man but even for a guy who loves tech, it's changed so much. People don't have the same passion for knowledge as they used to. At least that's how it feels," he admitted. "I mean if I could be doing anything else, I'd be living out on a large patch of land with a dog and a beautiful view of the sky," he admitted. In almost every version of that dream of his, she was there with him. "But if I have to work to make a living I guess teaching isn't the worse thing. I'm only useful for so much."

#( * interactions | ft. devon sinclair. )

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floral-force · 3 years ago

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Knight in Beskar Armor: Chapter 1

Audience with a Hunter

words: 2.9k

series master list | read on ao3

“Wake up, Princess! You have a long day ahead of you.”

The familiar voice of your maid drifted into your ears, waking you from your slumber. You groan and open your eyes, then hiss and recoil when the bright Coruscant sunlight hits your tired eyes.

“Maker, Nelly! Did you have to open the curtains all the way?” You growl, your voice hoarse. You tug your bedsheets over your head and groan again, even though you know Nelly won’t give in to your fit.

There’s a soft thump and you feel weight tug down on your mattress by your feet. A sigh follows, and you can picture how Nelly must look—forehead wrinkled, pinching the bridge of her nose, thin lips pursed—as she tried to find a solution to your stubbornness. Silence envelopes both of you; all you can hear is a lone morning bird chirping faintly outside as you wait for her to respond. You slowly peek out from the sheets and see Nelly perched on the end of your bed, the morning light highlighting the lines on her face and making her frustration into a divine portrait like that of a saint.

And if anyone was a saint, it was Nelly. She had been your nursemaid initially and then remained your maid after you refused any other nanny or maid presented to you. Nelly was there when you were brought into the world, and she was there for your first words and steps. Nelly kissed your childhood wounds and dressed them with gentle hands, whether it was bandaging a scrape on your knee or holding you after you overheard your parents arguing. Nelly guided you through your anxieties about womanhood and all that it brought with it, physically and mentally. She was the one who helped you accept your future role as Queen of Naboo.

You slowly sat up and reached out to touch her hand where it was resting on her lap. She heard your movement and looked at you, and you could have sworn you saw a weariness in her eyes that you hadn’t seen before. She took your hand and squeezed it, smiling weakly.

“Oh, Nelly, forgive me. I—”

“Hush, Princess. I know you have been anxious about this day for a long while now,” She squeezed your hand and leaned in closer to you. “I’m sure it didn’t help that I let the sun blind you.”

You chuckled. “Not really. But I’m more awake now.”

Nelly rose, outstretching her other hand to you. You took it and she pulled you out of bed, just as she had always done since you were a toddler. You were a bit taller than the short maid, but not enough that she had to strain to look into your eyes; when Nelly kissed your forehead, you had to slightly tilt your head so her lips could meet your skin. The routine gesture was something you had never received from your own mother, and the more you reflect on it, the more you realize that Nelly provided the comforts your own mother could never give you.

“Let’s get you ready—you have a long day.”

You nodded and followed Nelly into your boudoir, then sat in front of your vanity and started fixing your hair as Nelly prepared water for you to rinse your face with. As your morning routine progressed, you felt yourself awaken more and more. While Nelly was tightening your corset and fixing your gown, you stared at yourself in the floor length mirror. You were then consumed by your own thoughts and anxieties, both about yourself and the day. You’d spent your entire life being prepared for your future, and now that it was approaching, you were terrified. All of Naboo would have its eyes on you, as would the other planets in the system. The weight of the kingdom would soon fall on your delicate shoulders.

The touch of cold metal around your neck snapped you out of your anxious trance, and you watched as Nelly placed a simple silver necklace around your throat, centering the modest teardrop diamond to fall right between your collarbones. It complimented your simple sapphire blue gown, the silver in the necklace matching the thin silver belt that accented your waist. The lace on the square neckline was the only detail you disliked about this gown; it made your chest itchy, and you had no way to relieve that itch until the end of the day. Flowing out under the belt in a centered upside-down V was a simple floral pattern embroidered in white. The hem of your gown had the same pattern, and you adored how delicate it looked.

Nelly carefully put a simple bandeau tiara on your head, making sure not to disturb the hair you had pinned back and away from your face in a simple low bun, a few pieces framing your face. In the center of the tiara was a gorgeous oval sapphire that perfectly matched the hue of your gown. You stepped into a pair of pointed slippers that matched your gown, finishing your daytime outfit.

You thanked Nelly, and the two of you left the boudoir and your chamber to walk to the garden for your breakfast. Whenever it was sunny, your palace staff knew to set your breakfast outside; you loved the way the garden looked in the morning, and it was your favorite place to be on the palace grounds. After a silent walk through the palace’s winding hallways, Nelly opened a door and you stepped outside and into the fresh Naboo air, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath through your nose, immediately feeling relaxed when you exhaled and opened your eyes. Nelly rubbed your back and guided you to where a mug of hot tea and warm food was waiting for you, your chair set to face the expanse of bright flowers and the lush foliage. You gave Nelly a kiss on the cheek, and she left you to enjoy your morning by yourself.

The morning was the only time you felt at peace. The nighttime was good; you were by yourself and could read by candlelight, stargaze on your balcony, relieve stress through pleasuring yourself, or you could put yourself to sleep with fantasies about a different life. The morning, however, never began with stress. The night was when you had to cope with the day’s stress, but the morning was when you enjoyed your last moments of peace before being subjected to whatever your day brought with it. There was beauty in these intimate and peaceful moments that were reserved purely for you, and they let you connect with yourself and clear your mind.

You listened to birds sing their morning ballad as you ate, the sun warming your skin. After you finished your meal, you sipped your tea and admired the flowers. You heard the door click open, and you recognized Nelly’s soft footsteps. She asked if you were finished, and when you nodded, she walked over to you and you stood, linked arms with her, and left your paradise for the confines of the palace.

“Nelly?”

“Yes, Princess?”

You looked down at the floor, watching it pass your feet as you gathered the courage to speak. “I-I’m nervous.”

You felt a tug when Nelly stopped walking, and you stopped as well, eyes still on the floor. Her free left hand cupped your cheek, and you lifted your eyes to look into her green ones. She was frowning, sad and concerned. It wasn’t pity—you knew Nelly didn’t pity you. It was the face of a mother worried for her child. Nelly had always told you she still saw you as the little girl she tended to, and you realized she must be a bit scared for your next chapter in life just like you. She breathed out your name, a soft motherly sigh, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“You are more than capable for this, for your new duties, for your life. All that is soon to come, you will handle with grace.” She smiled gently at you. “I know it.”

You smiled back at her, placing your hand over hers. “Thank you, Nelly.”

She simply smiled, dropped her hand, and you both started to make your way to the throne room, where your challenges would begin.

Upon reaching the throne room doors that were flanked by two knights on either side, Nelly unlinked your arms to turn and face you, and squeezed your hands. She rubbed your arms, centered your necklace and tiara, remarked your beauty, and then left you to finish her morning duties. You took a deep breath and nodded at the silent knights, letting them open the doors to where you’d be spending a majority of your day.

You saw your father and mother sitting at the very end of the elegant room, seated on ornate thrones atop a high marble platform that rose from the floor. Your feet gently tapped the ornate rug that stretched all the way from the doors to the foot of the platform’s marble steps, casting a shadow on it as sun poured through the arched windows on the east side of the room. Portraits of former Naboo monarchs lined the opposite wall, and as you approached your parents, your heart started beating faster. The royal blue banner of the Naboo crest behind your parents seemed more ominous than it had ever appeared to you before, and you tried your best to ignore it and focus instead on maintaining your posture and keeping your head lifted. Your parents could not see you stumble or slip up, especially today.

Finally, you reached them, and you gave them a deep curtsy, awaiting their words when you rose. Your mother seemed to be judging every aspect of your appearance, even if her gaze didn’t show it. You could see the wheels turning in her head, and you felt your mind begin to race with critiques about your body, the way your dress looked on you, your face, your hair…everything. You were brought back from your internal critiques when your father’s voice echoed through the hall.

“Daughter,” he gestured to the empty throne at his right side. “Come. Sit.”

You obeyed, feeling like a village dog after your father’s commands. Every day, you hope he’ll ask about your morning, or how you’re feeling, or even just smile at you. You read once that insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting a different result. Maybe you were a fool for hoping your father would finally show you a tiny bit of affection, but the small girl within you constantly hoped for it.

He didn’t have to tell you what would be filling your morning; you’d sat through many audiences before. Commoners from all across Naboo entering the throne room, airing grievances, asking for help with their villages’ needs, some even sinking to their knees and begging for help with a dire situation. Over time, you’ve learned to suppress visible emotional responses, focusing instead on your father’s responses. Someday soon, it would be you making these decisions, speaking with your planet’s citizens, and you had to learn to put your emotional nature aside in favor of practicality and logic.

The morning turned into afternoon, and you felt yourself getting restless. Luckily, a recess was called, and you exited the throne room alone, walking to the gardens again. It was refreshing to step outside and breathe in the scent of flowers after spending hours inside a stuffy throne room. You walked along the path, meandering deeper into the gardens, brushing your hand against the flowers, grounding yourself with the touch of petals and leaves. Finally, you reached the pavilion, where you could get a clear view of Naboo’s gorgeous landscape beyond the gardens. You smiled, looking up from the flower bushes, and your breath hitched when you caught a glint of armor across the pavilion.

There weren’t normally knights here; why was he here? However, he couldn’t be a knight, he wasn’t wearing the same armor that Naboo’s Royal Guard donned. You took a slow step back, suddenly aware of every breeze and every pebble under your slippers. He seemed to be staring directly at you from across the pavilion, and even though his face was hidden by his helmet, you could feel his gaze piercing you. It unnerved you, and you felt your blood freeze. Your backward steps picked up in speed until you turned around entirely, nearly jogging to get away from the unknown knight.

When you were approaching the marble patio, you noticed a glass of water and a plate of fruit, cheese, and biscuits were left out for you. Scared that the knight was following you, you scarfed it all down, and then hurried inside back to the throne room. You had never wanted to be stuck in a stuffy room with your parents before now, but it was only because some strange knight frightened you in your safest place in the palace.

The afternoon audience carried on in the same fashion as it did in the morning. This time, however, your father allowed you to respond to some commoners, adding on when he saw fit or deemed your response inadequate. Although he never addressed you or gave you explicit instructions or tips, you sensed that he was guiding you in the only way he knew how. You watched as candelabras and sconces slowly began to glow automatically, a product of your planet’s advanced technology. Finally, the herald called forth the last case, and you felt your heart stop.

It was him. He approached the platform, and as he came closer into view, you noticed his broad shoulders and the blaster holstered on his thigh, the ripped cape trailing behind him, and the signet on the right shoulder of his armor. You weren’t close enough to make it out precisely, but you were confident you didn’t want to ever be that close to him. He knelt when he reached the base of the platform, dropping his head.

“Rise, Mandalorian.”

Mandalorian. You remember reading about Mandalore during your lessons; you thought all remaining Mandalorians were either dead or hiding in the Outer Rim. You felt silly for not realizing the stranger was a Mandalorian—you should have remembered the distinct helmet style from your readings. In fairness, you were frightened and not paying attention to detail, just on putting distance between you and the ominous stranger.

Your father continued after the Mandalorian rose to his feet, his gaze now directed at your father. “I trust you bring news on your latest quarry?”

“Yes,” the Mandalorian said, his voice modulated through the helmet. “The quarry is outside of this room.”

Your father nodded. “Very well. Sir Morn, give the Mandalorian his pay.”

The Calamari treasurer appeared seemingly out of nowhere—he must have entered the room at some point, and you didn’t notice it because your entire body was frozen on the Mandalorian—and presented the Mandalorian with a bag of credits. He pulled them out, examining them in his gloved hands. Maker, your father paid the Mandalorian handsomely; at least 500 credits were in that bag. Satisfied, the Mandalorian cinched the bag closed, and Sir Morn walked away.

“Mandalorian, I have a proposition for you.”

“If it’s another quarry, you know what my answer will be,” he stated, tucking the bag away in a satchel at his hip.

“Join my Guard.”

Your eyes widened and your head snapped to your father, who had a straight face, his chin lifted. He was exuding confidence, but it terrified you. He was crazy to believe a Mandalorian would join the Royal Guard.

Without hesitation, the Mandalorian replied, “I work for no one.”

“I already reward you for hunting the threats to Naboo.” The king shrugged, resting his elbow on the throne’s armrest. “Why not make it official?”

The Mandalorian’s helmet turned slightly to the right. Was he intrigued? You couldn’t tell. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you waited for his modulated response.

“I refuse to ‘officially’ work for anyone. This is The Way.” The Mandalorian’s words sent a chill across your skin, and you felt the tension in the throne room increase.

Your father sat back in his throne, nodding. “Very well. In that case, I suppose we shall continue to conduct business as we have been.”

The Mandalorian nodded, and turned to walk away, but your father’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“But Mandalorian, seeing as this quarry was particularly difficult—I’ve fought plenty of those wretched Barabels in my time—I welcome you to rest in my palace tonight.” He paused, then added, “I can also see to it that my bay crew fix your ship.”

The Mandalorian paused, considering the deal. “No droids.”

Your father smiled. “Of course.” He rose, and you and your mother followed suit, trailing behind him as he descended the steps to meet the Mandalorian. “I’ll have one of my stewards show you to your chamber for the night.”

As you exited the throne room with your parents and the Mandalorian, your mind was racing, still terrified, but now you were…intrigued. Your curiosity was getting the better of you, turning your fear into stupid interest in the mysterious Mandalorian.

When the steward led the Mandalorian down the hall, you could have sworn he was staring directly at you, eyeing you up like one of his bounties.

#mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian fanfic #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x y/n #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fic #mando fanfiction #slow burn mando

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