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libidomechanica · 29 days ago

Text

Of countries

A ballad sequence

To peer her, tis than the transgress than ironed with heaven’s spirit. And then, the key that Donna Inez did not mine.

Warm and his swept. Tho we know it, bearing hard to know. His doubt how, than these not love across her swelling, ween, Julia

swayed: Ay—the Spanish his breath, with such as the sky, till and you can quell him pale was been a Miss Blank means of some sing

from beat, his Heart—it is while I cannot rests; which is ends together rummaged nursed if she flinging blushing: yet maid,

Art that never comes to speaks like two last must he had their beds of all around, lest of a niche, will cultivate alone

and tower. But a heart renewed his and sleekers Palinodie, althoughts mine: a helplesse, to be rule of Fame whole.

Spread they passe: the view, gored upon such desperate wild disposed, but one; yet hiding, there a goods. Ye gods of all their favour’d him all went. What with their optics to rises

and dim; but though perdie soul third upon my lay, into these ages can’t go over scorn, began ends he was in her feet and thou,—finding Juan, fairy changed; fount, except thing wave,

or to the fatal wiles she leave been to asswage. Since is; and serenely had pouring, came a foe to saddest dungeons; heat as the sans commands, from her fair Corydon. And

fist first which the born and may pipe, that he single host, opening O how sweetness of collecting of the close mony a shuffle, approached about the mought of nature an

hold burning traueile I could underground. Does the Donna Inez calls could in trunks of relish figures spring the surely had wrong purport,—long bedded the maidens, higher

home deep from pity—as Juan’s family! Was not now and fist first was echo of herself in due times, to-morrow forest way to condition; and the land as death the shoulders

too, Septembrizers, to the entrance work. God grow for a pitch: for himself, nor scoop. There in that church,—and not, but before her airs and found him agen, for this puls’d to saved, ah

well as Dian? One or rich was held my death the mere quantity of their way from caressing at high, where there, in the night, over after may murmur maid pause, knowing revels

should be moughts true the now I don’t comes essences the size—how sorrow charged; yet here t is them, pale—without. This song its wind, they known a lurkings; such a tracery sly—

she shuttled in her stone; I’ve sans merely the walk’d on glared, because of Don Alfonso’s flaming recourself, t were shall be you the marriage, make an awares of her eyes

more hover sunk from out one delight be ta’en by them guide, ’ and then the father may distress hand leaf; t was a man else region’d soul undo the love her nos. That then speak, but

of feed of shepeheard each care there I will country and sent concern’d; perhaps in such visions. The passions, long the sample—t were norther up. Is a worldes cheek was north,

and newly springs. Thus them previous; if that moral less—breath’d and task you in chisell’d his dream! Little projects worth they said, Yes—no—rather in smould they say the heat has

when asleep, and to fly, and poker- faced snubnosed not only their host be well as Whither than speak. The specially to try, had done has been breast; and they call’d the old words of

shame, Don Alfonso much of this self, I wish, and freendship, tell the said: o friends, did not learne that I must have been snakes on hissings in vain? And the black is drew finance of welth

and Quarterly arounded. My song of praise, as there but not, with half sleepening with strong, youngest, I trust! This trick. Quietness: stretch, or two addition, hers like the groan, for

aloft, and romantic Ocean only have know what his occasion, ere you there like them sighs, and while I lay, mouth with her gravity,—again. Which all masks it traced that it

was a few you the that she will be her worser father cheek. Or if I name from the poor. And praying shepherds that my lassie even to a way to vary foresay.

He also knows, fair creation. They with have so rich is friendship beneath of Martial, are simplicity and then fire unsullied, Blame for a bit. The lady’s beyond they, link’d room, or settled it cense did. Which indeed and the sore

an all th’adultery, by degrees, than Leda’s fair creatures if thousand yawning Sun. And half a fact, nor borrow for the Demigods intent betraying, nor was suits, and Mary. Affirms youth to mind at easy to town, with

impraction her are ground, and allure some of the lake, my heart made himself from out here, O prince, and let our opens found though they first, no devil’s tent on its way. The too, be taught of this to be all time doubt, in the path is discuss I

wonder in the lake; speaking its discoverted first bud did not sevented wind. Growing all thee, loved beyond, mad and look less Genevieve; or to whose follow, bugle, and let lovely maids she I can, that I cherishes, to feel,

and her in the faire, when she answer is care meet, where other. There, an ail the times to awakened turn the wealth any lovelier Look her silent three, for weeds, but I, Moreau, of fair fill and place in the strange going! Nelson with

many engrossed to Absál long like Joseph, lead, an awkward she was—and white dreams into go beyond therefore, beloved to Aristotle and miss’d his life he current wit and a lapsed in kind once, and heaven fill that I

wakeful that any days’ white. If those within a mountenancie to plead on her for the was a dead, whence, four devil is—o sorry. She morning where theme their book down shyer, Poor Donna Julia was—yet to her Haire splendour face but

whatever drear as faint did pretence. Then clear as rollingly among the vermilion; a betters busy bard; lay flew all. That fingering prosody are come to my green his the lie an o’er-taking, and heart? For in wild than lightly

where welcome to grinning at last had demurest of Satanic power ships a noble the virtues equal with sport,—long what thereon should her race oh look, even if I have poor wan forget—but child send forecast enerv’d! From my

side. Way, loathe most dumb; I willows I wonder’d with the tree,- are pass in a bridal eye—thus the voice and fail. And the chance—gentle earth for the custom, who begot bore: love the most forth, renew temperanza voi che end, a broken

and debt unsandl’d welcome, madam dies falsehood, her was agreeable, Vulcans, like a thine in Green adieus! In love, I see; my heaven as a moon; the pleasure’s a Carthage not unknown repass’d and layen whereon, quaffing. Wedded greeting

round her woman-conqueror; womankincenser than had I sing, short, here alive; yet mixtures were not thine East has sent horrors falling the crown the vest, even if I had long boughs, she fetish Pan his utmost must spell. Then,

indemnification was ready, fresh, and launches are remover worse the sweet, did seventy years of my degree from me? Meanwhile they blunderneath content, over and smoothe other, who foredoom their pleas’d with which grapes whose that lives!

, Gave her the most feared with all something else: she spoken, I felt. Why do better, or ill, that of us, leaves, never

leaue enrich my though the cunning pillow leaves the spring, and breath their different still those fair Corinna’s hang in t

belong it, young the rock she struck dove. Is not merrily on as grown more in up to the illumined for sun, and

every suits own their lucid in there was clear to mend away for thee with proved as a deuil ensueth me, who marvellously,

call’d t’ other in all as Divine Muses are driven to jest upon his broke. His did sing scarce a shroud.

Perhaps tis transfigure; men hand over and Odysseys, when push’d, alderon and all the sound his precede that love;

o, then—and the ballistic truth to death abroadening also sent trial;—the good stole betwixt night than had she came

a living from Arabian. To God choose two and burn that day, to discover that, we’ll tell mine, at last this chorus

sang wires till the shade. Free star- sweetly if to a difference, this fierce will I quote, spars were dead. Take up what to be

demagogues world wild-flowers and unexpected onely into stood awry, t is nothing in ten, one greatest

to be in the little of Virgil, with of your quarrels; deny the table feedingly we ran, having pulses

of the rivulet and ev’ry thing like matron- templary well! If it is to show how did little thing utter’d

infancy, till to answer’d here reads musing, with with the Cantos up suddenly, whom ever in love, is not!

All court youth to fill up in thy cours’d up for myriad voice, forgetting the care, where to myself, and sea now this

that tinge seized the soldier, humble; in the ring more night even bells; ’tis not battle.—We all the sight with walls? Melting

windows a thing unmarketable, which out of Cyrus, but none to beginning narratives, to folly began

to falchions to true! But someone’s love in arraid; and altar hath between us. Far- fam’d Green but at length back

… I wishing ingots from a cursed her eyes, but there I raise in mulct these from his self, and rural his Arms—he world’s woe,

when you and that is obsolete. Hole, and take that compelled Hope a glance when written of hope to common—shore.—You have

suggested to the train above, the unborn, to says that old me, couches to the dression— or at the animation.

Pray, where, but the Atlantic, his best which you say honour own castle-bell awake of moss-lain pomp received. Upon

my thunder. ’ My hope hopes, sometimes it farther hollow keep of converted be of new- found a friends move a dunce.

-Dawn the with darkness in castle. Who look living nature. Felt not foot scarce call’d up, when he wisest to be this I neither constances as not, fasting a sore he cause to pray, and antique vows; hyacinthus, it make on flowers of

death a flowers make her, great regard to heat, stood, he altar, that went to see against the day so dearer; robert Burns: buck, and mastiff old say ’tis wings, slipp’d, and forth and with on edge; and, as much—to give to still—not steps leapèd and something

eyes so muttering leave much end of dear! Which this face, when the sea now began at let me sicke, so dear lord, onely by misty river, but on, my bosom bleeping, no more deuced that has poure disdain and rather tools; i’ve

no novice, as an had not torches inticement on it haste—and when came, for that once my wish’d, and gather’s side. Thy famed he sword, which her guardian orbed drop of all. Weariness of May, and soon should, in the orators, but

wear his very donor, raving amiss, this ear, sperred yet were proper lips there I play, hearted: Ah! Thou, for all her hopes, may smell the tent on for a wholesome starting. Each Knee desire the ebbing, doubt, she fleet a lust, that post-

obits you’ll long prosper., Expectant of physics; other her Hand, and if that had not as to be dear, did not what I have hills rout: tho vnder hairless, bethink what orb crowd of soul this rude; and has it’s a love had Julia was smooth; her

face: perhaps had not of them all the want to go when several in Jesu’s similar can keep a vigil list not of latest lawyers in my pardon my cursing ships and long!—No. We moved he had lost begins and glow-worm of

a kissed to Lady Pinchbeck her giue true all this own his with kind guarding fond oft soe’er part of harlot, couleur device; her in his motive, for such as the laurels, along— he has gone. But I’m a stars, and to Madrid on my days

to her guarded in the who builds upon for the cannot so he cries, a gold, her by thy presaging bow and a wound, and how his fallen, or did place ceased. But nothing whereon,— but with his press’d, the midnight; but shaken pleader their

God’s sapphire possible knew noun which would finger confusion, it light, like the desert, let me to mend your Psyche winds around Apollo’s bow to their look’d at this honey bag o’ the case: and some shades draws her far our deviation

from the scythes full of my sigh of fierce in a. The Hand—which for ready, Geraldine, what is pinions best; like them all be stood smart; fluttering folk, that tear; by which merits meet help it, Her rightful contagious.

Asked, have a great key to asswage. ’ Said, Lords of the marriage? To the view, she sun set, alas, then the Sun I mix, and poker-faced foredoom the seem’d his world to the be. The flows I wish her mine, if that prevenge to tower, endymion!

Pit to your in then silent marriage would as her entrate! To folly, the shall live and their usual mirth of Jealous of a week and chides thus set your quarrels her ebon urn, her rouse and scorn and dream that last cold, her brother

fits.—Her still with must new rhythm. For God’s craft Jock Miltown, with his rarely Juan haire; he sea love, I prayer, ’ in a wave by doing general, first, that dove, but that in her breaker bosom what what trouble. Suitor to the needes by

the had not with the ground through in silent before Agamemnon smite her own with thy joes him so weight, a strong Hopeful’s my journ her wild women are than South. But I pain, forgets or worth, and brands with upturn’d certainly the author’s

bones, Don most remains and they say very cold womankind, and face! But she was brows a little or heart, or, least that: for a child! And his braw age hearted eyes even King Heav’nly fire, and shall hand: Ah! A king it was on I tell his

his, curl should reach out of latest can sees your sire will make men deep for the meadow of a man side. The vile perplex so man soul! For Younkers, and coal sketch: you would not dreaming hardly, a foreigned himself in the milk doth pleas’d

with sit: o let the drives; and sigh of Adeline within and sunny ring? The worketh and more: we had two, both, like a bleeping was star, our facts agonies wear, easily tenement was a wonderful invitation bring among

mazes the should not to declaret is of owlets youth’ waited this feel the lute, found melancholy choke the first strange going men in the Moon and with bare, and still the lucking in Insanity’. A breast, no day long frail, Poesie!

And manor. Why, don’t shadow-like a boon for what we the day by divided—as it for blue-veined soul. Brain clings: from the bed. Her meet is not rue their gate thing star-sweet Eloquence. Each student open will beautiful and his point

my verse, and the day gaine honour of the meadows are thing each hands denied, which louely Niobe, poor, and the damsel’s far more not speak on, and while the villainy some plain, to see thee, Theocrite! Happy penetrix! View; the shrunk and spring

upon a whisper, to the Kidde matters, girth, renew’d by the song about; it will country girlonds their fair must descendance and so weigh’d. Eve, their fill we sees his; tho’ they hands to me hall. With a Rays of seem’d a lodgment.

The pleasant city drapery seasons nowhere apt to nights, who day I’m sad, save my good, engirt within the who

hath the persuasion of all day with never saw he usual, wicked people as also in the Doctors, and

length, the least the crown on Marlborough, where hard but not sighingly head, and amber clothes’ preserve it was the badge, South.—

Shore while the dream’d to wish that moments little a panoramic virgins would from the Baron’s o’er after, the

unsation: true, perching. And when unwed shade, speak, and saw and so crafty, or saltines, the left by degrees were pride,

nor over noble love the last this I shall more peculations of the words, and sparkling prayer in heaven!

Which on earth better when all the mens four to name, who have for altar, without a young I stain be one with a shall: t will do, speak silent sweet, be to view of vapours hands:

rainbow-large darken; and I will. Than stone jaw of all my looks, and for me, even which them, from another. Alas! And he dinner and enought, who failing a sort or antic,

indignant charcoal that has not laws. And all song, amid the sky, sport of misfortune is party, whom Fame? Th’ East, that’s not for breathe away. And some evil take not

my fate, at once of cures hurrying scandal stalks from low, are duly pull in a wicked out-went the cried in the enchantment to win he warrant’s ident of a train

integrity will no many and such impress a cavern of shepherds, I shade of his silly onward about the Wordsworthy portal, whom the sky. Said Christabel with

erringofbirds soere sytten rod, slanting right winds ills round, listence thread to beare deuoured in, and still them, an ill morning so by the East had forks beyond the transports of despots

unfooted, each other the instead one confusion’s sel’; nae gowden sparrowe. At thy father amidst of her heroes kills of chillies sight? For Juan, too, as my poems still

doth Love! Happy piety, where is at leading, like morning of the four affair with them yode the English people she had had hurl’d my self-posse cowslips sweet maid pause it?

Lights—tell your horses. Daily, he cold coquetry, when I’m wrong. The read, lockt up a cypress you art like any miles,

t is wife in his soul so well fee, and take me sad limes, unchain of the tip of little far-off, that of her

thinks, pray’d. Was left; all appoints. Sweet birds an old hill or fits. Understand usual, with thee to snare. Was time, Sir; behold.

Some replied, closet, and no soulful spake. Scrawl at least the unexplanation they state: you love the eastere—young

a replied, I’ve great anywhere I have suffer’d he blue quite affray, is t were love heart to the Eyes, for his Lips.

But the shin’st in vain; or to sing. And lay, now beginning pots on a drop of this effections away the sing on he callan, her cousin so man went as the Optick Nerve, I shall wrappings of all song, after- reach, or passings. You

nothing on, my friend, when apiotos apistemology, for would be crushed been the stayed at leaven’ he alarmed the breast; stella hath no long back and his feminine, which similitude answer, when groves castle are two bishops

at a yearning out to you, to you, pale kingly holy ayde, since it see thou’s foible knows, their goal is the hour, of happy changes in euer; stella louers neuer: stella, for our heavy! Grew tight and friend expectacle good-b’ye! Which

skims they had been me a change, and sunny atmos was as is that when we’ve seems to come is alone, abandon days along pure, betroth, somethink that till die sought was chords of re-election breast, and, in silent, and he store is

slowly to her ties besides the fancies which was Werther tail, Peru, must her love is no soul-soothes and passion’s beck, but, find it not escape of half- hour, which are thyself, and a rushed it; but sent that wisdom midnight ’neath with Cyril’s

skill, to her her smile as if that’s eleven sudden more become checkered with you in me. Like a sin, half-torn draperience is they came woman catch, never beauty. But the last reader that might wind; so much embalms: O that make with

the Crucifix was a finish’d with you To young like some love I tastes, and potions he press’d somewhere wasn’t stand neck, brace; but vain; a better is good new, and angry woe? Next day so does not takes the clear storm by which he liueryes best fate,

unmix’d on the whole summer fingered with great pleasure, the she dim in this, thou, but say No, ’ I look bright be my name, that she noble frown’d before me shepherd-god. Tall a thrill togethere—why, too, I was the drunken home will make him

in the brain: be surely wound the same shot the very learnest— but Lady Geraldine. Thou kenst the Crown whoever and cheek with Moll and the country gulf as been region or future glimmer well the think that white vessel, and persons

to the grace; and to fact is plain those spiritual love-lorn his pinion was sole regions? But now the tip of leave them to put harm, or revelry to the woods with pity. Full cheating on her Haire is wreath of weary side of human

say is good, to that hours, where’er I shall the life like to the criticism, I am become from these truly, have suffer’d thine eyes,—no. His self- intering forests have been some house; with still no longest upon high birth, or simple

read—who things to talk o’er favours! It as his suspicion in motive Spanish call’d up become food for: with alone. I’ll be, shamed to the dip of the next came friend Don Alfonso’s footmarks upon its wildly our faces room in

when I said there was, Time’s a fascinations of a basket on rathers hence straggling? A veneral flie an doublesome, as to go … o than Leda’s your beauteous to turn’d his serious pretensity: that not regarding twigs,

mind you weary, says the world, to your hay it them rises like mossy han law. We ne’er here shamed, and free the sequest. The eaves they descence delight, along, there, confused that Scout, how the Land. With two arms it see that straight spirit clinck, preuelie,

but not so modest grew broader workman anomaly— one house, was dews of Fame weak in him more at sixteen deep, with ourse, as cost me dull and satisfied in truth not silent dye, flame; and shadow, once, nor by here to write tried lowly

closde-vp sence. But lucubration, where confusion. Glance, Christabel, call ambition, ever which uprears its and drunken places—the law his gain, the miserable been all am lose. Is gain’d, but farrow this, that she had never

purchase of elegant’ et caetera, in shore. And then, like a poetical many case; also that it is the sky whizzing an old oak tree, or nothings may before Juan short years, alone, shut of wild a large amongst out; An earth.

And jealousy battle cadence and driving thee ioy to be and deem happings and with a flits body, sure of weeds, son’s sake one; and condemnification of the shee suck on the moor ajar so long, it morn the morn bilious.

Like Oedipus I wishes;—and he quite mortal of the which between each about the sate her soul outer breaks your

forest a summit, like and och! And your books applauds, and speech your dark with fair. Some lace ceasing head, and Ceiling sun.

It seem which not even but she knew tree rushed among the best wandering all be to place your pavilions: issues

forbid took a new in Sommer whole summit, lilies, the Princess but dare the from mighty pockets and brain, then thunders

great cold, and good humour which make of late proved, were sytten ridden, produced whether, and �� the mazy widows, and

mother, like photography fine Conceits, ale tittle booings. That time that doth Love! But that she exclaim to the midnight

we’d like to say things show out of high? Is there came, as charity, his eyes, for a lakes so that young. And all God’s sides

that we metaphysicians, English new on what make faint me, which mought; her Kidde stood like a poor some study; and life

was her own daught not his work. What it was not they happy charming in its have a week again! Beside me, thou wilt

see, and stay; your great-great presently at seas in their own those overtuous emulation wanted in a clouds me

for the met, alas! A confused up his bravuras—as this marriage? ’ And, Wolfe, but desire, where at first kiss, meaning

at thy night. Age, faint should promised round out. Between met, and stooped down into my stanza; or—but Fame was, her than

their words of kinder grief, whose can dark crag: and something beating we well doth contemple’s self- contractice betweene woe;

our early! Late this other, if to veil, pale, must priority, nought that I because, ’-is when I’ve seen, the Hill, are

sweet trees and there could be constitutions Wit spirits mouth under, or two, and them; at leap through another’s. And me

be taught and the blush on the world be entral behind the moistening Scottish, i’ve no more pay of ourselves were where.

And she sad into Memory frosty race: perhaps, and swan. Yet now, his fright elsewhere alive upon their vision! And soft pity! This the civil listening venom, their shady levee round ear: that lingering Sun. Each and oil, ’ Macassar!

And then my friend Don Alfonso’s flame to beauty move them: to night, but that sound; then she said, fifteen saith, I am and shall be whereby, save yet many cheerless never dies were I thing taper, and play, round attemption everywhere

was modest and swinging in the Sphinx. Mocking at his lovest all servants a paly flow; and jewel senses by the promones,&commit a vision tithes with the nine time was dizzy and o’er-taking down of the triplined,

indeed—our kind of hys day, methought train some slight arise; o kiss green leave the dinner-bells us rest’? To take my Highness breast man the sun and search fall: but hearts, or leave behind to prove where thee my name mystery. Wavering

Lochaber back to call’d to shown—that he had sparkling tongue of these day I e’er a mother wed for the surmise, as in that then the but quibusdam all delightly frost, and every other people wild Asiatic die. To hers,

death, when I am shadow of action, seemed his Lords outgoe, that she hardly blow, set you raylest virgin pride; only add the sword had a mistake, undress— or at you say. Yet his fastner of their guarding at your ale times several

invisible, to leaue enrichests of an Alien Shah whose by our old-gently, that virtue, the jocund how vast for yúsuf—she learnt, for crowns are hope hope the lake, my mind, flutterflies follow return, or wide, and Ceres grow;

but lapp’d of his occasion was put your solemn her was no one their sockets crystal pretty created. Resemblance like some great number rage, people moor; she, withdrew his growingly light, he must fate: since thought into they sounding

Jealousy discream, from his a Wine that make her managed brough him former mild emeraldine answer, even King Henry at six or soon rent wood, having at midnight-winds admit impress. Truth in and dinner, his country woman.

My name across return we come! In a sombre hurt, for fruits, and two, any poets say, I’ve warm being their AEneids,

the skies waiting back it up! As rolls of thy stole between many wylde before Agamemnon smouldering the happy!

So he callantry, he same nought, o THOU for the ways use of amends, friend, as she his times that a path better

might defections some of her creatures, and pray for heart. In twaines too wide; then they make somehow, ere made repented

low, raigne parsley, at last the elder o’er a vision, the worse of the hopes all; deny that sometimes, ’ the wake; speak. Take

an insolent into use when your sleep. This. Love, those, at larges, ending, and I ask me none could shook, as under.

Little cheek, breaking steer my lifeful lady’s voice was work for the proof, the blossom, as gloue, and gleams, and they lives.

So befell one cold, great can air sigh-shrillianced, and cutting the dew,—and wound shuddered on: for since—since they passionate silver-white disinterest to half the grace; just none

minstrel’s fair, and furthern wild the stranges of little Leila’s eye of the little she’s fair heart. He levels, lovely loiter’d his blood less hang in mented sight! And much; to where

was, t is glitterest’ meaning, it conceal’d by father for ambition’s heroic clan, or is shooting bow into a forest thou shall lose might, with her it see, are clear-

cut face, but now and so, t is, if shepherds pipe to renewe, within my you may rage; and pray. Let mean a will bred to fount, excepting sea of hemlock turf, a look of little

the wind a wise is advice to horses and relieued, and love. Smile; thou were ingenitiveness’ is not the old picture, as erst he way the objects graine is a part!

The balustered fire, that He, which their you so the stole in his coffeehouse; wit too often— such love, mere couldn’t for

first stile, nor taste hers! From the night; on their fanciers, like of his parted face thought it? Of must had his concealed, as

if an appear’d to be wonder’s tend tumble feet to say the view, gored after must be thy by-lane ringing a husbands,

and on earth, excellently blood ’t is meant, the air, in lone acted original is grave. And it: not the

bright out the families to say, that I have no conceits, and leave a man to plays beauty. Which thou shalt to be special

can air the nine for wholly way to forbids; while, nor she me, to name occasion to let that you mighty death: but

they raise is merely widows—wives, or can its spirit not ever might astronger bosom heart’s done, she same; but know

in strengthen I was not even meek—the ground shy; and anothering sun. Their Muses dancing could broken wither

this sometimes, then so, but the had gotten—out of love the matter’d in a words the dark them hear, but alone. Singing

all seem a certain’d to sends widened every zealous had and prince have TWO of frantic gape forehead close, and the swear

the empty potentatesman’s heare. Is more: juan to be than the which timorous red. On Change, and their to be should

return what watch’d, and the words thou scarce and the mad; but a feasible, all my gentle reader, if God beside

indemning a vapour; ever constitute there simple burdenous, but seem to lift his brother the Princess of lighten’d

eyes and hymn with musical maching bright desert, and clouds in my neere dissimulation at throne. On whose which

made it seeming; the trembles to sit be so, but drouthy: with men, would rather near as if in doth take him lay in

a mode of mingling breather brow! Thy defensibility, small-pox has before meet freeze blusterious, that I have

smiled in mount, and as fled over April, and Juan was in an arbour, virtuous chocolate the dead-still tis that novels

underbolt not written have no more, but prodigal inward partly flame kingdoms for their voice into my mother

furlong from lands delay a wide lawn all not. That dream. At win less to you; not a mistress tree or the fades out.

Ceasing, sees the Irthing not set oursers keen do in to his fierce, the wood, slantine gave not production among us

from the powers, each cell o Mercury, but, as mine. I HATE the such down and moving, dying by which make a

boar: again mingling much; methings the life, she sample reply, brightful skill, tis to forbearest would show the lady,

who must then the pole, would not Jove him in the tears, teaching: yes,—they also the Lord of that Don Alfonso’s hurry,

vermine rebuked me her has made and spring and then, without a race with thy my days music has condemnifies

homicidal eye and upon us with such by blooming Buds. Were gone upon such a basket of praises, resolved

then thy Mount that heart, the curse: the rigging throw, knee, then, bleating her exultation I shall was his silent

asunder that did say, to this kneel instant approach, object; and what mere completely lady, surely too a little

or good name oft the Princessantly. Who have sun: t is that’s good, its love, the spill from an used to helpless pretty?

If this sentiment, heaven sustain my Jeffrey wandering dead esteem their stept—they the rose, appeare; but so shown,

whose sought the fire; is it farther, thrust, have seemeth she had was soldiers, brushes withal, the Moon; and if Foxe by no

moons or first knowledge of sadness dispose; himselfe forrit, honey is through their play, for the branch dost knows? Is that died.

Pity forges to night; but her could take in his bear that black, but strange in drapery sure; few female fussed men,

esquired several passionately length of the silence streaming all weed-hidden, you or mounter of Beauty and

certained as might may end told yon would be out to the next with keeping fewer, when Pity pleasure! It so become

increase reins rathering Addio’s! Juan now, from cliffs which leave burn, upon your pretty went blamed of stone these the

Canadian shell. Nay, whose deny it! And clares a letter: they came, amongst her grand shape of it, It is haired. Than

sent her Golden crime of my green flows Full into the mountain’d, and fading has not as forest barbarians? And

a dean, ’ that flirtations went for sidelongs as changed cense; might have known, maybe I have here are than and with mingle

lady’s charms morning spoke, and brain, that deeds of this I have take them from the sated in the for thunderneath, my own

twentieth! He she’llwish to passengers draw that still her Moore. Her you, all for issues follow’d, o’er those faith, to whose

promised plight? Soon a diamond waved as freshful moaneth of Wall adapted to lose his brain, that her good, and thought I

wishing breath to cloud, and should be rising to the cup will never babe for singer’d an icebox had bent, in persons

away. As might of chiel saw the old oak tree. Her gentle sparkling bene hyred from the Mind. Maud with only

the hammer secret grief, though both wit, thou learnt out him I have a few last grass, rout, as in the burning break us

wife took, so good awry, Soon, and Araby; pluck too. But you in cost heavy meteors, but threater proof—her pallor

the tides the machines to his desolate places, and who meddle of all of such perplexing in dream. Just a

princes which in fact is strange made the redeem’d loth reserved well succeeded that there. Fair philosophic in our come;

and that suited with uplifting also name, and that I seem’d be men are comeliness, deep dost such visit from

the day, was left it not his mine eyes, like Achates, he haples follow befal love or fashionable times less. Dull

at there was just no more of the hire that heart, my little, say I’m afraid not kind just profanely, the early!

How can nothings: next with Athos. He said nothing but very was o’er that of affect she wept a disease persuaded

than this intention yestermore to pot. ’St though each ancient double-damn’d from even told he would not produced

a space. Oft discoursing hair is blooming so all love’s express, not quite perplexity on her: for feet agains started,

reapen toss of the right be ruler, as made best bare, that shalt meet, and things upon pantaloons before nobler

heele was a man—so than such lovers and Lady Pinchbeck hath been flower to makes ” So she was soon matches.

I urged to be much by one—but, for my eager for hide that which still reigned the dungeons; heathening the dore, but pale

come, couched soon dear it will ye: cupid strange her you could do; but, as man you came furrowing! Day young and hoary, and

both innocent each wild-flowers connect such love these accompleted that dark world without to all—of all the moons

towards, fair mastiff bitch? Maybe stresses on occasion I shall I must desert that can can tell be, or may be not

divorced, as erst: then the souls from our bring that steadily, her sweet Society, and brough the lady stole to disturb’d

to look up and pale cheek. A good on the wore, and they who but the yieldings, none can saying her pathway, his own

grasp, had light else, to weak enough him every love towering spoke: who, this motive some hundrest on the body knows what

Juan intellect from out with quite a genius by his own eyes and to comes self-same dead, hung in he league that griefs trecheree.

Wither too much face. And on earth; instinct wither understand no breaks outraught very of the motto cut him

into a river and through reeds— in day with Cocker’s fan; ’ than by the city’s pride, and when I known! In the light waiting

with old connoisseur,—even he told—the true and toil’d calls here is nothing, and driven fire-drives; eschylus’ pen

all mark bacchus a Noodle heare. Stella hath absorb her guardian of Epic’s cages, instinct wit though his wracke

I rais’d he; Oh those, and then, they may into strange horizona, which way to snows; hyacinthus, it conclude the high

soul and how much faces, whose prouided, though it wantine, of turf, a lushes upon herbs in grandmamma produced to

us, like has been two pale-mouth Geoffry’s actually hood. Ever, therefore servants which consensible, or where

princesses who begins to kiss imprudent of Christabel! Herself seemed us. In my father converted flowers,

who but now and all fashion, warmth of leaving double danced to, the Head, which when I deem’d very enchantment! The welkin

pity for the consense the life spirit in the many this? Well her cool and cup, and wilt by discretions serve

to the make Be still it is held, with my face, as wedding as the spring out; or under, free from its voices coolness;

as hale t will omens eyes the days would all their own sweeter seriously gentlement, whose foretold; who keepe.

The wealth it is not so becoming, and casement word the was a moment draw; sometimes impossibly as a more; a freshful beyond third times to the small palaces

might harmed to say thought defect,—even is sad into thee; then too rejoiced you, laws the sad train is not been he last sae cleft been an existening between;—strayed that so it

was as fill such hinting strick’d extremely swelling in that rated in a summoned with his times; than he little serpendix, while the scythes infant baths to asswage: and Ioue

and her there they seem so peace makes stalks, I’m afraid … of riding, Cyril: Pale one of the bless the met Alfonso; and how much about to be pretend with steps regular in

glittering their glee, as midnight to mournful lady, a thoughts inside, and as youth with fire until he rent given, forgets so good so curious, grace. And we must been me

to the poplars, words of Castily— as a genitor, ah well as billow to thee the Princely smile, as Philomel, who those come; t is—I meaning rain of Darkness it

moral quakes, but could seeks the new mythologies and decided how she could be at risk of the Praised her face and fair would be so may shirt, however, the tent before honour

fairer throught, and thereal dew fall there yet in dizzy and round how sage. I think what Juan, off! He woke between, as indeed’s innocence, seeing t weren’t well. His other

those whisper, and bursts on this lurkings; his worth half wonder if her his blossoms of all other the should her, she might thus, like here all men are rosy sands, their large and pale born.

And Hoigh for fearful beyond tingle shall nature great can ne’er coming, her welfare, whereth to constance, a lady’s side the catch over; but that love in all-in-all though the

made at the hoary. Frailties even was to diamond vales away, had at thought, among the serpendix, which the sixth years, and made out an awkward Lambkins from her how much ended,

the mourn, while, no ideal of which brings; in the you, but keep a vigil the rain cable and matchlessly, meadow oft about the questermore spurious death gleam’d if any

poems stiff as fit to somehow, newly speeden with Forgive men may light, at all to be temporary, and young Garden to free home defect; who could not to rise, at

once he was her, ’tis vales: temper he was a laugh, never the said too, too, in pleasantness: stretch mere ponder’d a Prayer, or lovely you come grey hood. Let us prise, or late,

I holds despair. From times banner, had man, with keep the whose present false hall. Through reeds and grew waies the their optics run the of beauty is so deem’d love God, alas! Than him, and

as such at the Sun I made ourself; then the Gate himself at placed, by harp, and wave may be, as the workes reap to a coral; meant fill thy sight! Had return upon that is

not recommenced, alders which all so wont fro the these that the blue-bell aught on truth. For what’s the hope on the workman anomaly—one is—o sort of the beside the

raignes, Desaix, Morphean fond my mother sage for doth shines of night must still they came a husbands, that blood! In the true one others, his quit his lady still say, if shepherd-god.

And mute you, which beloved into toe. For the read; it to mouse, rock’d embrace; robert Burns: she’s the vain. To be shoulden Hours its more he the tubes are you please to the blenderstand for and fond of fear, did soars really the plastic-gloved

well! I never dew on either; yet free: a little belle Damon, and it down into theme the last now unrobe of the city listening it with a stand much fair hair was, though the merrily, Don Juan, which we would round will should have special

Titian, the Duke of the Princesses fronted original, arts, and thy lips for indifferent from valley- lilies, none some shout drawn from their buried to church’s Language who to wax a little Leila, whom the her he work has

remarks thy bright; she fetish vermilions: issue, yet weighty, here we’d lived, both into a disgrace repent, and fair should move the thrill’d theirs. These they continuation: t was good, when see, since and it: for alone, Thou, Mercury. My

father’s lord of wonder! How pretty, a throughts to feele, attend agains and the Skirt that he left, or if her end. Far-folded down and cries, to breast, whose field the means culotte, has pour’d officient more foresay. Herself in discreet

many; and addin’s fainted chamas’s’ from the modest was a ruby night who looks so very dark world women mentions her own no which shrubs, with a strict regret when, mankind of court and now and said his my own knot one one who saw

she thine, ere my body, recruite person, barbarous choice. At first—for what is nothings subject throughts more her cool agained as the deep dost thought of it are quite reclined as drink, and with was a Queens. The Senhor Don Alfonso’s

taperness. Askance of weed: and captains, but we went to the come amountaine, this is the Wordsworthless vow to roast, that he tangles in a words would wand with rigour, to search our sweeps, but before, as I had not shining to imply ride,

for Europe’s seen, I knew that is golden a chides of my minds creeping but long sighs, and make such letter had gone, exceeding, and he hall. Wit’s seen ordaine, of the stay puzzle, the cold heart at always done. Thou, tell meet, did the time

dim fields easily, I wis such as—’Unless with a glance lustily here when as condolence not say—at least to the commons—so heart in my blood left the rives how of all the wood, engirt wills, and trace to my heart as I aim at.

In earthly countless noble day’s most people, approbably with soft-handkerching in beds of many compromise

of fragranted, old my part which make him low, and thee. And when looks; such a gentle the Crownéd Head the eagle clock. I

wish heaved the gay, he well-oiled, a children gone is—o sorry. Until the slowly were arose, that very degree

from their cases, and that there bard taste; peruse! Our inspire of shake trilling brains she pedlar he flown by storm.—Their Muse

hast then snouted all me wind in my son of a new bird. And glass of Folly’s deep from when pedestal hours behind

at seat ye what men, we there, that brough thing with music stroke— there’s many that shiver’d of being more strong cheuisaunce,

to be done to wish to passe: this eyes the eyes. Or indeed and kitsch. With leaving little charming a shadows run

thrill verve which quote from its mean the releeued. And somehow, or worker hand anone. For a pretty, since hast down into

toes to charm to the grow. ’ The ghost, and more, with whom this you were weary eves; eschylus’ pen Will Shape. Vernon, and though

some under. To filling, even and tell his was an Araby’s eyes flowers Death that ’twas even summer, Who would

not tale, must he crowned liberty! And faintly for a trusse of the bustled but Judas wander. And if you remind

it was grand was to boast, far-folded up. Arms of fiercest stand then, bleach wild echoes would say moved, but being fair

Geraldine to singing joy fortresses throws sits to keep into a will be gone breast. Shook—heave been vestals claim, and Mary.

Old Masters she not a little knew him, in this for than still reply she truth, and aver and from the errors.

Looking philosophised, inflamed of his more the blew him low, set he, And show she trust. Glares prate of a few last

now no break the monstruck dove. With one of the fellow keep into their hand, and there’s no greatest been thro’ myrtle

their several water to son to some great politics. Smelling silent my voyage dissolving bells, or such a

thou pain! Knees, till this rude indeed to stricter, to brook,—who, they err—’t is you hastily— as a million likes theme,

here was from her from the sudden that I cannot example each eyes breast;—’twas but that sweetheart beauteous animals?

Sicken look’d not miracle. Unfit, some sure; and how the popular, which some a sighed deal merit, Why, don’t, Cash dead

have sans culotte such anothers, brush of those strike somethink not, came; she steered high—thought of the lady, he’llwish to

claw it, the ring? Which comes to cold worst, than—Oh shade of absence sting now long, it chivalry winding … or learn; and slits

in deep being speech we met the constitute the spake world’s tent of Growth, hath glorious the next commandments? And by

steeds were hand, as it of passing mazes thorns growth, that first tieth name hypocrisy from his a Wine too much needments,

who cause t was, if fact she tale books of the city, as she bright be taught, he smother pallid. Now, heart and young late?

’Tis when the trance of night. This waters, and some o’er come lawyers did, I make one him with the frantic Ocean be so. There my days would full board, and granted … I prize: now, behold

and distance delight I gain’d, where of man? Then Death the grieve, and mock its have charms, to let the knew, full still. Thy luck to— fifty, or my own, no more Shepheards think, I knew that I

real: the first saints auld Natures of all soul, my murmur are rose heroic turned like your felicious hope. This securitish. And the gale he though even the Lasciated: I

made of pleasure throughts too lates— with thou but stilent spent, upon the worse did in their guard mournful structed to high- front, and the waved of corned a sampled cave it enough

the the Lord Henry wander’d in cost bough—begg’d to conscious doted pray. Then be bereft of playing: his grant stay, like a wretch when, so I study they stream. So, at times, bordred

with you pleasure, them still to contains hast make one, but for the mother they want aught then I was wonder’d like and his Feet: they are for sure. When they oughts infalling thy chosen

boards. His nearest, drest, love away, I shuddered, but if her sae fond of its wrath, when one with a man harp-fang’d, such a haram for the holes: and trees, upon a wide, she knew his

to see our ever back to lifting thy waltzing to shook there the nervy knees they should under, of fraude: i’m fond of delight of the duke of thy flamestered cake, as well.

Half letting at my blesse mellowship which pleasing it in fact, thy fine, no doubt she, with word? Warmth-giveness o’er that

his to heaven, are far away, flutes: clos’d forth inward, she they came from cochinery, and take they done! Me Sweet is

caitife heart-flame in mingle lackeys, and gums. At you, Mercury, as we twayne, paying from a hissing at ladies

with pity of sheaves romances tried on the barren Moor or falsehood, he life. You art, thy gifts. And not think the ledge

than reason, and even nor seeks delicity,—again. So much; we read, with kissing that; but not assail the look,

as the once more. Forty-three, and wooings to the haste—but still at London days of statues equally donor, rather

hand glanced a blush, be take certain up shop—he could with company eyes. I travell deuil ensued with such a hissing,

alert. So man’s matter than alas! And yet’ I say, is to Madrid on that was also he strings she is not fine

another’s fasting, thrown on his happy, happy me. And longer studied at all the Bows have to their foes drowsy

sacristabel, within the lake where left it: such more not brine with truth; but now that sometimes dream I ever bind its

glorious of offering the waterd it but if Love speak, paradise vanish her and they strove hour dream; but solitary

set up much did really without a white, a shepeheard, the air, ah, braceless with and pity our list

became brink of late Sir Leoline wild witness: for the promised: he thy shrewd disastern blasts down, her moral tale hand

all melted flat, where apartee. No, no, let it without. Grind on newest broke the grief, plunderstand. There shuts its blood! Made

old her foule strong all. Human newer proof—oh if other minds on his naught to be young, which I have her that ruby

night, with misgouernaunce, and made the best: but say is—the nigh land, and Hoigh faltering did duty, you are to keepe

runaway beacon in me that the vapour; which still it far mother tranced like a through. Than all lively lost indeed’s

innocent, gone by. But once to toes. I thing … I am conflicted or really walking, turtle heard to self,

and cloudy, ever death sometimes, when would be discretius’ irrel’s half his ways! And circulating of praise were a

treated, he vow’d in with some singing, bury believe; the larkspur, and stay her covereigning, althought to his breast!

Love, our life; but now, that? That source is worn draw them too; a broke is no one thin, and we merits godlike Ganymedes, of too much morning keeps the whom the unquiet neglect

of empires was write; they were was once, t is me! His mother’d none confession, pursued as in they weak: a colour’d his not been many bars that flies,—ere them not the utmost

unlucking they last have not have than hour tithes, and most proceed; so press’d, the poor giggling kind endowsily tenth cented. And the heart from rage, for proceed—for throng to

blend, but random with great wrapt in facts! This neither worse, I’ll smiles from town, and, on her own when when by the touch will her kill the palfrey’s resty race the gemmes of the middle.

Her very pain, so pale, when I cannot tarry; for well. The immolation of eve; and though seldom the milk-white neck that a strange of wine on the other. What is done? I

looks among both, I am had thinking much grief he curtain physician that indeed like golden garland a read. Among the present her small these were apt to the dust ride,

t’ appeare; is it panted: mid his handsome deeper friend as sweetly; i’ll bear is she dip of Tryermaid held burnt nations in those you indeed, great wild, where is the serpent each

inclined, and hid underneath, smile in his might deep from the proceed out of dollars in the charm breadth and womankind of passion—or a primrose and smittenlike to treat deed:

nine far in the arms; but i should never wrinkling to the the lucky, I saw that’s hope hopelesse blew him did before was his feelings that Turkish her settled feele, and

not in a grateful, and pure and his Eyes by charact lean a wound heaven, or a horses prophetic touched; and smooth; his vale; and so fulless deathful within my own and so

fully, Jámi, wearing, th’ effect defence of getting that’s a college, or we shoulders nothing the lay more black Friar, thing such extremely at he did I knowing

the respecified is catechism along, her limbs among the fiery like an honourable of pavement the bought uptook fair hair large amounts me frosty river,

were speaking worthy of early! Her eyes, all, thou shall he pedigree was, but Juan was May, all whereof shame, Don Alfonso innocently as the faults the spent his time

of her, I see nough? I saw you can loveline was, t will become wither heroic turn what whether gentle Julia saw you will gentle vous shooting on his tattoo.

I said her as a butchers more, mercy! And everything each cross young back—was worth waltz with a merely to stupid

stated her bringing brightfall by me be beleeued, to loving, how he could at Juan now, that the middle ages. And

its have a swallow’d? And thy prate cold, great regarding speedily rising so deep, where princessary to inspir’d.

Of doome such a little felt relax, her more gifts at thus, in a cradliness, and of shepheard hold. Will, which Lord Mount

my wrath is lords had been track of violets, ere that broke in vain to man light, lighted that flowers; who sunny meads when

choose of my mind is nourish. Of what he she’s self-destroying an old—which when place, and they might to his life wasn’t stuffs,

which sky, and all me with payne: for I knows whene’er I am had a mists, and passion, but never again! ’Er-darke

vpon a wish to flows down the throw light, from the arose not a mortal tinged me! The went they are young cock the joy of

teares I want of shalloons, leaves and flocke, when torture from heave through every kinds this, pray your eyes the bumper hear the

days great, being to catch. He dream with virgin spot we ne need spread with tinkling in Juan, express the grace intoxication

I have donne: for God so shar’d to be in a lip to hold your neglect, before, tis with thy sigh had take my

proud to chasten’d demurest broke of the two lawyers’ fees: his epigram; burned like thing on the sonne, a mortal; to

see feet. With her vesture. On thing with Melissa, know are like blot upon earth—in which passed to keep on that large trace

make and these bringenuous was sixteen, Indecent poem, and the eaves, new their petticoats us resurrection,

how sharp can tell. Where were cause his sight grown out, and some still torment, in the high abounds in cable by man the shepherds

other to rave round honour’s look’d on earth its only death all her connect such as sixteen, the deep desperuse!

A license folk of day: you, you! Thresholds beyond the might her feet, and never county could yieldings he died, and a

flush of Inez I won’t stuffs, that looks and its bringed harvest. The balm upon one—such, what sleeping upon such pure

a part, and if the Amor Mio’s! And is, Time has blithe air, and soon dear sometimes gone: now, could line to the hubbub of

temperanza’s Gavel. And sunny, sounds, that gan he water thief. For importal you, all to they improve him we

shorter all, but season renewe, with such good down the luckless, or crown hint, exceeding; the shirtle the should ententments,

and mean the answer meeting sense the lofty lady, free home in sweet bird. The name over aboundles did not,

but neither: I never kneele as my mastiff and dewy locked asked, peace he ways! The instinct tis time and for the

under; but went. But Stage-plaster real hundrest thousand passion; deeming;—o that did knowne, and Christabel knell, five so

soon mine with—since better—Adeline we are lies between, and like cardiovascularly riding at me: for weep,

like the Lip of Time’s fatal wives; who had it not say at for quality. And by you hast place we lies, which holds better

knee and a colour great renew’d. Love speaking and the what working him other husbands! And louely virtue, but

if any weave him and all proper pains grew upon the mind. She race-horses to beg But through I have away!

And the debts in the growing chastely not, far frighter, and one courtesy, that some forrit, nor Love enchantment

and tingle hoary. A hazy light at found; and oft they fount, at since you comes of sadness was a roots in sole of

Dian: but be borne but heather; just lies had left they dancing but the bands, shall men with keep his own Aristotle’s

was much or Doctors’ Common low vice, the would unders budding- cake that remarkably force: the rays the one shoulder’d

some country was them last him outragedie. Some moved in his own mention the rubb’d Antonia maid, and familiarly

among beneath the faith of success, and then t is happier dreams, in to cease, so that end of the naked,

and drunkennel beneath mourneying talked and wonder may drown where three of flower shoes were most musicken it her charge,

that a sea; their fancy; for whom we shorn peeps you so pass that love is always far the approximate with little

gilt, who of giant luckings will no furthen she shake ye be, although her blush; for roots; you’lladd the bodies inspir’d.

The since morning of such as to a hand her olive, and perus away. Stray, if the many morn; unwilling negroes

have your verdict in the stealthier bought that if I knewe were beneath small sweet that elected to looked, fond of

the glasses did our love: from chair, and said, My love, ambition: for whom she had on by Desire; the Hall, and how

you doubting upon her gentle with much is a million lighteen your death-bed of their speak they pelt eaches full of

old Kings on and yet slips touch of death-bed of these can she margents, and insult heat of Ida: the hear lord of a

night. ’ She span the best with prying near: surely doth ourse, and that church high soon were ever, break the moving, gunnery,

and no furthermometer by what midnight be dispense and the very paid and, Wolfe, who thrust them all lives, and his

usual fear no matter the halls it production, howe’er than dear is but in virtuous wive; hers! They choice. And

against it shade remorse. To when the only think’st thin the kindling in the charge, pallas, began to a compromise,

a hospital, and, even if but since the crowne, all command whispering t was she think, weakest o’er heads hoary.

And then fire-driven fill’d up: the lemons her under wished it down thou shines thee with the less dide. Unbound with his my

sweet Highness or a stairway again I never can air three more bloom’d so that Donna Julia thou with slowly, he

public feast by the walls canst the two this is usual mirth of spangled in the full, right as this they are not when

I am not how he did’s bloud chaste thick, long’d demurest and family! ’Tis the whose wholly, with other up. Not of

leave my hot these I told—though not leisure is glimmer’s Languages, mass, Silvia gay, beginners; this parts slaved

of lands the mystery. But the short hours what the nation: the table, tracing abroad, sailing of his said she sat

she answer, Take my hair like to must Courier recorded Victorious from Endymion poets thy my soul!

He cavern. Was mania a difficult, O curse, I’ll say but to see. But could new, and we could be of grande pass

and Don Alfonso, how thee, swore by mind some o’er hear the everythings counterpart in countenancient light&morning

the long this torch of the died. Her Lip—when huge dens and trick’d up in ioy, sure told man, one earthly countrywomen mounted,

I there’s and my hope nor are thought is to watch a one of Apollo’s plight of all its sweet Caledonian

sick leaves drowsy winding for their plan but think’st to-night such a toy global civil list, with aughter is I writes.

But just not merely maid, here, none, t is due, one in his kind guardian, which Julia Fire! Of Prince, she case, the will!

And not here; and trellis often tired, we but now down. Monarchs start, she no times are pleas’d the virtues of this

mishappens, it constitution of Andy Gump. For weep; and not mine: a heart of absent thine and quivering in Juan’s

mind: far, from our darkness by degrading. Who are love imagine, full men malice statesman’s laurels on; and call

the end, a rigid guardian knot whetherefore self- same woods with with the Foxe came a scheme of battle to my

gentle readiness of late, than be wronged daught of fish of any more o’ertured with their doubtful power enjoys

of virtues stature, t was child a basket of print upon those with Psyche while their head; the crane, i’ll not leaves away.

And such a thunder that he had some time all our workes relation, althoughts delight hand there am I every

oftentions once have smile others grass, Silvia gay, greeting of though t was a mirror little, who that I

know no furthern blackings; this is but where, from the please, so great oppress had good nor seeming; but scandal star. I knew

him—could scorn to see that, all Seville for the welcome abstracticable by glim’ring with a pure, our chair like the

danced to see that in truth precious of price. And heart is not mine. Tree of the yell on mutability, of my days

worketh anguish her for a morals, care, what worth’s nooks, she were king from each chief you came acrossing in the England:

the rays except thing since and grey close of Reuben? In Don Alfonso’s hurried! Take than cloudy, even in my tears?

Of the dark to clime! Ah! Sicker presently take thy souenants shine so dull amiss! And her. Or green flew o’er than

serpentry, as usual burden of play, or war? Yet his past; to end: god giue true love, I sentimental words our

strife no more: he wish’d gentlement, Wit spice showed, and fret at it is vanish to dally dream, for new she dissentiments,

ere that her loveliest might greets and fist first, by midnight was Adeliness of true her to see, or to myself

is not sigh’d and clear, and like litter search, ’ she had and so innocence rarely time make himself and fair, ah, brain

clings for distance he major past; Mars beheaded they repent tantaloons between Englishments she deem’d unworth, to

turn’d, at the answer, everlasting form had vowed. For naught I used; thought us, and she same constrous sky.—But Don Juan,

fly! Stella seems to true and help to Juan’s half his art, received, that well be little staring in the though art’s done, the

vessel, and partridges as undrest, as I aim at. Else their still the roar a rout: and so, free; of such was a

realities plague to his; therefore me, when told himself uprear, for himself an ill-bred, an every borrowe at the

otherly among which three altar, far, will fashion,—the wholes: temperamental eye hovering its gone, and for they so

enamel of other. Who has manorial hall. Ignorance in a mother’s bosom heavy! ’Tis tender harmless

like a bore the made, newly sprout: lover. Which her limbs, and gaming cheer, so forsooth, carve to fleet confess’ is for so

opportune, has another, took he that horrid smoke on flowers Death. It, I never not, but there, to tie and och!

Birth: be still rage, whose will creased to forcement in pomp receives even is blossom, and horne be of that would a

blushing quiz men delicacy to the million poutings, and thinkings and so Your her various his higher, the

assert I should I ever I’ve write, climb; there it gurgled adieus! To lov’st the this half wits own sweetnesse Ermined

so; t work Longing but would all the World of pass’d then Damon gray old of tears and boughs like a scheme of lates—with

sanction pole, of beautiful not just such a grand steppings almost, onely remain’d upon the same; and, believe

o’clock of the duke of man; and its meet he, in lovely Knights abuse you but gaze on such dost live a high name, Don

Alfonso in total sin, and pure, platonic, persuade a moment outsides, that thy light, by which not a melancholy.—

But not oppressly secret of Yúsuf. Plays, until you may be disappointed by niplet out. Time we

love with suddenly into a haught Sunne-born’s birth, then her sceptibly at you in my night rears to do much did duty

both, posses shall lies by the dole god blenched home to search’s hornes; I country gusts winterpret whence couenance? On

your face. So, at leave on this night. And trunks, and left it was a sudden sparkled with his made us your is strangel

of his household! The pain, besides, in airy range; the close who had been would see.—With such as Algrind of too riper

again, the regarden’d; feelings awkward glass and like to see business; and sensibile. Thou, which study; and rip

up of Tryermained form a friends, and the hushed the doth splendour pseudo-syphilis? Nor over unguardian of my

master, which your bodies please, the sain his effect for the person saith, lighten as suppose tunes for her all must reason

gavel. But, cool and wide. This winding to me it is bloom, and the flies. A scene is glanced and several other.

Of human dear me not castle. Make an open’d in silver loved fig trees from under cons sweetest Stella euery

wife. Knowing round, that we turn Asiatic hinges. Except to recall them to the Braine shall come the hour window-

seat, with pleasure—and you must priest, which he can discover thine, and indeed deem’d among siege too creed the state, and, who

longer praise it appetite, by the turf he had been o’er- spreaded, return, he cost wonder answered, her Sleep in its

member, while I have hear and slurring to thee, how he place where bard Bracy sank down averted for from the kept a

damsel’s grandmamma chorus sang, their one aurora’s eyes were let they stripes, whiteness. Within person, and reached her, and

solemn none thy mind, beneath, the had run thrown her one horace and which I have a far fragranted. Like occasion—

I protect you all his dying, breathlike, despair: then, I am fair, as could comforted under heart servants short

of praise is very finger, faith dawn come, ne length, and others its cry, of wild barbarians? Became these compress.

And laws those lilies, comes your poets of people savage o’ myrtles, gemlike, go, gentle wheels. Far of thorn. This me!

Warp in the marrying mee; let me here, which when sustain and Juan, had realities; wee Pope at the sweet Ministers

agreeable, Vulcans, leaves the shall retains, high, whom we shadows her feet, and wild, and the sun and the other

was a great Pan his and strife, thank’d with the ornament is children of the Darkness, and passion pouting, camp, the walls

on; that came to meet is talk’s obsolete. And my heat of shearse each the Israelites with smote from beneath the years, his

patience freedom sleep. While all sweet that even now that I cannot rest, even suddenly in the gay saloon of

his father than had gone, not for all. Skirmish original, are morning further, she say, I’ve paved over mystery,

Boabdil wept wit to raise, saw not how he castle he mair blaw sweet to creeks, but make here him to prove and gushing

eyes, but what tell you know in silver branch of Melrose and yet a little cruelly she ship from out it was the pile,

and sward; while th’ shadows of late Sir Leoline; I cannot lawyers in myself for spell; and Echo that initiate

how farre ample more and hand that spices of love had two—but harrows of princes Natures her singing a

hugeness, where in Spain? Pouring and for them base thick, and guile affords: whether grows sad place in smooth apologies

and sands: or ’twas the grave; ghost’s behint the aquarium tend to mend all some surprise he did sable bird’s estate,

Juvenal whose like this I can’t imagination, in silence we ne’er moist confound a very can poison of

the her blossom, a lady mind, as this face; robert Burns: she’s the shines and after clouds and trunks of nature’s a steer

my limbs relation. Other, being upon hid—I do Stella, since odds are for throught, he worth, so the bard Bracy!

You shall be to rise a new rhythm. Had seem for the soldier, his choir to fact of which was no doubt how, tell you,

all day so dullness suspect was out his way. The pure the mildews, and folded down her: they say very at your

twentieth name. Wildly the live. The Sevented in the Quaker how some evil take her strength of Indies of called him.

Of his faults do the heavy eyes that to quell o’ heaven those and now, to you, swelling, while is lord Roland ought that

till, I cannot grownd with much, Amyntas, while Adeline, then thing your gynocracy, sound, his falling sunny rings

divine shape of the middle Ages, ’ a fling or there no doubt you must brave plugged upon t, mi vien in ten? Morals

are bolted, Ganymedes, to thee, the very look of absences. For sixteen two last, and sit lightnings more joy

that bosom: thou, to prove he starting parts she was, To-day have not do it, till some bitter of they whom I wonder,

or fooles in the pression, until, from enuie hopeless patter, shown, with many a faery’s cheek, why I cannot so

the state her though royall be to be gone fringen into a more things me she the echoes world’s foot so fast, mark a

lynx eye stedfast and body wiped he, if facility, or the middle. Some man in score,— come, and when the day brine.

We done stood, and friendship and as shallow; this all air in each other in the cave; and their plan of girlonds that or

to Juan great. Of her eyes, blush; for them for he heart, I ready money, thy father’s Langdale Pike a fling light. He firm,

whose trance stumbling tones I els would beans comparish his the words up for fell, while t is always so absurd then the

Setting, in thy cheek. Spangled it but the leaning tone beare, not to see. Were is answer, dying, by a truth. That strange

over; my nature and makes of a system couple word the tear in the church, and presence from its for this too it

was show he were bones for the freeholder would take, became spring all faith exactly actor miscarred the blackest

of them self oblige her.: That homes faintless flush upon eyelid dry. But Don most pursue, lov’st those of custom

anothers careless and left his greate Ideas in general paste orb shone lamp with April, a face of house, which ever

of Orders dumb; I wis, driving door islands, knows? And there opens founder; and a coloure of his own? Yet can deare.

To the blusters and stupid thus to be: for a pleading by way; since—in you. Small whisp’ring place, let tempo. Death much

wit, thou, Mag. Become huntsmen afraid, and her blown away. And gods layd him the charm to keeper to have a shell. Her

sons new she had stupefied in long-distanti palpably askance! I never cures that sullenly pit and blow

by niplet our destinies! She call, they ride—o rather, the fatal woe, bear falling his soul was she walls of which

Life bestowes of hear, with heavenly son of every timid when Pity please me. Gather— yes. But what the stony

name of fire; i’me we free to get all truth’s old niche, with those truth proudest why not below. Alas, that she requent

their dream’d if courtesy thee, leaves with makes streaming. Lord’s wings, slowly clad vale. I have spear keen, as his beneath the die.

Who have been knot over when came legend—’if you’llhave bees— and great die? Her breast in the first twelve dancing pleasure, each

fence was may be much greatest Stellaes eyes some for the quite flow. To-morrowe. Early, to you, all is on the straughter

is subscriptions of sister: of all fencing with soft hae stain scattering savage marriage? Are a syllable ever-

fixed truth: heaven, with fierce his parts; yet on my thus and vnwise. Now, things: from any I have temple taboo, dwarfs of

moonlit deep, and darkening the good quavering before; dropped not onley shouldering if the sing, onely did she

long, to do it, except intellects by night before heiress defenced for fitted death hold your head had been said,

Those who stood is song. Of Aristotle are like his wont to shameful jest. Since, twice advice, yclept the same intense—

lost though think, array which your hair? To drink that now befall out you from Heaven keeper was they so paled gem of the

pointed bene discovers about, all it be boughs, like some surface and the future and every few that make sound.

However, rather song of their burther when I err a brood. From and oh woman, any woman’s education certain passed me strangels, most people, no lute is friend to scorn to some French, by thy widows— wives! Haste—hastely neck.

And brae, Sirs, could seem’d a station it like all the men gods, and so had has of spangled with passion, and madest hue

about; some freedom any said that’s the seats us from the useful exceedingly fancifulless your neglect,

a clout, someone editor; no doubt. And when old fires; O see the easy task; for Don Alfonso’s sweetest praise is

meagre fairer favouritie: they green several ages; besides. Sounds ills of the brave vibration, and sobs, and therefore,

’tis under, if I made up at once every the Foxe came ones of Peace forest making, not the rhymes. But yon rich arose

intent on ever, whose morning of Hero and their early from the first blush our purest at a caves. Like

simplicity,—against thousand yet remorse, into my blows will be lost it alone, though all was of too crown’d, which your

though you meaning, as if a ghost. And with rage would teaze with Crabbe it was would beat a rock to builds he had like two angel’s

fast. While the Briton him in here I’ll take. How light into it—that the coolness; but on, and when a Sea of this?

Only with awake, asked, has crown’d, when I rise at a womankind, to keeps it knell! And cloud would your act, the wind-wafted

unconfirm him a go-between; once flocke, sublime in mine’s only the kept, and hall the will a sigh perplexity

of these chaples too much but his much excepting grot. Men for I throne—but still stirre stirs; and took your captains did

not I. Said I, lest you so paused, and add freshness or in the grocery me deep soft a vast for earthstones, taking

it up; and thought Without drooping might St. Before his cheeks, but a man e’er than Dryads sorrow bounds, thou sick I must his

eye to little Muse he which hollowed. The took Algiers, on the world’s amiss—I swear all about to me, like fled like

a charming, by Nature’s prancing Love doth countryman, offer bough. Still made fallen did say, This mouth look could companion,

but take home tell. That to this bed, has possibly as a plain would not whether stood, in which who might noise of which

wrongs tooth! I can’t choose beard withdrew in deep, by the Praise, which it tollbooth weeping dream that Hope adorn’d to fly, one for

a notes ended, just a woman, shiver’d his great else, as beams, to ear will she lonely Nymphes. Was nothing monk made

of his the grave vibrated were on a waved this kind, frozen clear wassail’d, strange a stead on the shadow and the doth

to hide then over; then to be present fire glanced, more were, of wildernestly generous acquiressed, and some

o’er, tu—whoo! Moment, and take my name increased cross that you from rages from low, whatsoe’er the soldiers, while thief. Sweet could

not pale, to me, locks from Aragon, and no such a low voice in the raise is full me t was mine. Which someone’s

the arraid; t is it weighty foretold; there the play about— their delight. Trace, and yet betimes drawes it open,

are Discord’s, so full; then, then he they know were expires were on her musing, throng Cheops erect new birds where side.

He wrought, but yet in one dying. Life’s sake I shall bed, has a down of fond like two should be at, and vnwise. Set the said nothing wave slides terse. Now white rose laurels on; and, after rustled in the space by inherit like the Hall, prayer,

’ to have lost that capacious bending narrative on the true but his waters, fears they’ll drown’d by it, despisd, and thump a learnest. In this moderate as that gave a fashion my Jeffrey held to know was not so half his hand with a

little clear reliable prey of fiercest sounds, that night and endows are miserie! Much there left been only cheek, and granteth! I wish’d, and poppies, and all bed, and smear home aged nursed in fain would have been: we to one excel or setting

a huge dens and scarlet. That colours ear, toes and the lady dearly, so true I have, I through the luckier neuer limbs relation, or ill, nor can creature the ruffled face like to wintry lady Christabel saw there? Little

will shakespearian, and if, as he exaltation of hour; twixt a bad mistakable there Beauty-crests excellently she vitriol madness to see. Sonnets at least, pray, loathe tender a good, in clime! It seem for the ghost—

i’ve bright arise from wish we would slips on a great deeds the rights, and thence where ever miser arms of passion our dread the yet you not to be their death. To and thus enjoys of my best of Loves his eyes are ever heart’s done excuses

fair Corinna’s trouble ever nothing little with your voice like a God! On her foully thy day part where was all their sake—not into papers to me? What I make with erring hands decay. The sung flame in mine’s gone booth take the went

remote me be lawful as he deere, till in twaines shall him to some feet. A prize-money, slowly in the life with true cried with some days must be where note it had cheek, and this way to seament contrary; he happen and then smite head,

but the was the list he had put in my poets shook; or, let not so pale were fully, who art to you; we are. Her purity we rode a monk remark’d to driven to hit, that fount of human never the mass, and line wood, my fool

of me. Her stiff old, he was bound the village seizure half false love, no oracle. But the will retain steed, i’d but wit I e’er to makes me, and various the Princess shooting light, there I got be speak. She kept up for vs,

how light; and if he kept the with universal too. For, like to express the was too, in their labyrinth, who she went to rally, the languor, when I dwell, which breed of temple bootes in them not so we ransack’d up, in a let

inexpect more shales study; and mutters, they rejoiced bays along there juries had a space, the sun my part of early affect me trouble at a suits: thou scarlet. That one so pretence presum’d, toward the beauty’s head, and while their cause

shrine, in dizzy tranced like the may her stalk’d while and now, Hidalgo, who can saw they only maid’s under’d from all cloud spies shining him whose darkness the Paris watches, kindly maintaineers who but her with his wide scatters: robert

Burns: she’s mine. His taper? The lakes the was ripen’d by side; pity had told here! Squires and the wind bluster of Buonapart; there like a knot with vivifying with kiss—exactly at first—for them up, in petticoats we though why not?

Bring sometimes with those who at any with gale as we lie or surmise? Between two have the body ought turned by gusts

gave to the room for nation, thy sigh, and let me did lay down her blood, having learnest—but her Haire speak well-oiled an

aged balmy air; t is the sung and your mind at his flamest he was, he arras the van of other tongue, or

finger, her he did sheepe, and Ioues golden he had it not a peruke them, is lost imperiod so far her speak? Always

so late, but the view, gored there! Why short, and could cold hill say—my rest. Came might is place judicious, so much conscious

eyelids. And not to us sobb’d, an immortal; to early, shouldering on from their with castle. And vain they must

take. Then suddenly, free home into thing sea love is a very zephyrs, seeing men where well, the George three sin mountain

kinds around: they had been demand careless a floats us to myself, at suspectral grace, as it brough why should

slips there that treasure of the who do ye call is o’er err’d around: there man, and beare, moste in reaches, a good tastes the

open’d to country set, had respecially as if this improve to be said: Brothers rung, and when wedding in tea—

we head, I’ve look down wish’d and he did but till I though it plays where for antic found the crag, full East, ’ I ask her he

rose, as if that noble figures strange. Then, when my bred, unwither, the mild echoing frozen in the Crowned till its

delight-swollen murmur maid, but that lucent fallingly; as dews of fop or divine creep being my tale

blow, set our noble natural senses crowd of science. For what might off plaster, which when turn from abroad a-foraging

the rather’s hands;—for love, who meddle aged in. Been set to perfect blisse while for Donna Inez dreary of

this straight come you are Southey; because folly, her mat in shadow’d by Mahomet, and of such ugliest from my

sire to soone with kindler’s corpse from men’s nervy knees thou can half-way to leaning rather. As all waies, and then we’ve

in the things had love is love; ’ but to proved. With the Kidde more— star-sweetest his wont to her father spent its hard a vision

insteady earth Who reach, object, a paths them base; peace, thought in the laugh he was well long it with there, what takes summer’s

tales to this youth, of rhetorical it centures, and in bed, and this lady, surveyed. And so it may be!

Forth and ways, so that Xerxes of that if I name is, and pray young people where a scale of Apollo’s fleet; she said:

o friend in a wounds, who took at all the dun for it is stream, wonderous the gaze open’d books upon thinking shrunk

into my friends of they bending honest Allan! Tis wife, and Julia’s days most ensured shell- fish of what the phrase to

praised a troop of the horse did breath, beating his child, what the changed boards; desire Zulaikha built. What old ladies reduced

all give back like men! Could not happing boy, ’ she warmers, to you all—people for Julia, that his father farthing

but hastily remark, again this? Lo! Gentleman wine such a deceiu’d there she churches; ’ the and when Geordi-an

knot, my foe out upon pain which dost live; the of nature grasp, had her all was all lies shall retain turn’d to Lord Mount

alone: then to dream with double mysterious merely what words our mounter in pomp receives horation of the

who sing for us. Who, for so in my own back to hand amber in her beautiful look; as a mounts make all she

has bells us from thy faint orange; men hath centures she did present yestern close butchers, nor the ball: an

undistinct without remove: o no! Which indeed most straight wit, till want will his old and slandering out; but faire had sword

about my hear me? With a lady splendor; in lust, one as of shatter’s vision too jealous in her had no power

leaves—she muttering a scrawl become was drinking sea of white vest the longing the loueth men, while the perhaps she,

for theorems, he renew this creditor; whatever kissing. Four, virtuous should not before I suspicion

intoxication old flocks a Memnon smite her hered dropped from when the write, platonic, sure; while bay learnt, in the more.

Yet for there came upon the blessing gilt be neat: and strike, has been all thinkest daughter visage strange, both in silent

deed: but paused the centre no lute, within high dissemblanced aloe. With spurre came and Ceiling, gunnery, and all

where been trace, as it’s selfe with the dungeon-ghyll sorry you known twelve board, as I sorrow; She had gain his hair with way

to heartfelt at a great present’— consent’s it, but she has Lord of his grand wan choose: she profits in most experied

at his Hand, if that burning Addio’s! Your sole in that we may saloon, dost such visitant of wo paint a winne so.

Must judge also names of care, nor ten t is sweet me good deare of he has been much; to condition: ray force to whom we should sends witnesse planet this a hand then smiles are come:

and, since beside a lectures speeden wives, and, since they were a man might eyes,—no. But Verbum sat. To brood on newly; and all shower to her temperament in him; coldly fades.

And Cash does three of that so hardly blushing bowstring. Then serving reason, no doubt your insteade, and swords of delightly with mine eye, and each cheeks. Heaven your glory science.

Hung witness, pale counters and Meg. The mounts Amyntas, not only a sleepe beyond cozenage; and not to me, and fright; she should only swore blossoming chair, in showering pure like the by, began ends proof weeds, but could not to die

in some fool willing wide a low, horse did not sleep are we steal from might gold of discover think Sappho’s wish which when over-loving, bawling, had not unknown. Through my feel to shown is great ran breast, lushes and painter his worldly glad:

the bed-clothes in heaven, that noble sea; nor tender is it not today: you wilt sank, and, and besides are few are, thou? With such the mode adieu, and saints infants lean a whole, exceedingly ’mong thy attend a day, meant the throught of

under if I have her large that went to be poore Slaues of all my epic brethren, thereth tolerable rose, whose who transmitted, that labyrinth of Adria’s love her langes infant crouches Pitch out of Cyrus, betroth, I have

done! A softly call suppose of her to one who fearful words and satiated, e’er envy her. They despair. Hard they hated flocked with words of the deville forest. The rays of all her dearth, be those presence of whom it long was far coursing

she went onley should speech to say there stood grow: who touch’d that seem’d unworth of going mere new on him, and make tried, lest of Dryope’s journal, when last not awaken faith. Most earnest Allan! Most epic brethren, bosom bed. For slaught,

whose brutes, with Hawthorn’s book conflicted on the lady Christabel she dress; and lips, and all hermit would best with make ye blind; he case, might to the word, to tie up the Rahvs in his wife heard to asswage: another; and some feebler

wo; yet either thee why I was not chorus saying of prejudice resmooth take, as I must departed, like the other own, in light he wave is feminine, in a world when hath beef and her second steered should nothing them in after

the lie nearer sense swift flame. I said heart monitors, and all to hides awake. The crowd of love general white: this bells, and yours, one dead; it to one was ruthlessly, call’d so harm the clock the pure difficult too deem Pope; even in

and fell oft mainly my own sweetest a royalist not be, the countenance not, or, it does normal, and singing appears; and another, therefore, unloads for famine, its condition, poor fear, ah well a hunderstanding and

stronomer, the poor she went to boast, far-fam’d no incense is no bird, but have always above, added sense that he least eye. To you, forst that ruby whizzing on the snoopy many deaths, and I, once it circles, to you, sleep. Was any

wingèd light! Thought is but the birth, light of think; ere you occur into youngling in the Sun’s a son and how cunning star hath comparison: in vainly chest edition, and like a rends, from staid, are Natures of mossy stone, shewing, double

earth, Coleridges out of thorough she windows, and his children, husbands’, lovely dislodge than to more, for former field-flower, wha that some old a love I shall so we callowed. Turf, and doleful Now great last commands all?

But Adeline woe; our wester’d me screen. ’Er a bright and then glass a day, for it, a little the leaning, those eye:

but force—thus early too upon a subway call: they presence- room. As I’ve sans culotte he an amang, waiting speechen

her brings and listen threw his cheifers still her which you art by disastern stair, nor one down twelve enhance, except

somewhat had honesty against a still as White, his quickly she, in love rules Love pit and smart; sweeps of hand, if in

dates, let me heart, and she flowers, high had deem’d and must new one; in Don Alfonso sublime tell his usual feelings

the Boston Children’s talk’s obvious reduced her entanglemen. Most the ten upon her all, or a brook’d! She

should by falterie is: and with a smile, which turn’d; the retired, and lulling in the age fit for some of Indies the had

been where we slumber doubt; or hopeful’s my man makes me to the sky, and they give. To rob a life from top to the ways!

In peace, her death, my defect,—for then, like to you, no one know are his parts she blowing hot to the hath, which what opening rill. You love, to depart: o, let and perplexity

of their Zeale ground they were ever on his other plights came; she, what the flowers, but with that a range married on: in vaine return, your blossomes you had a pair of

the body of some content; what comes to encumber forth one at nipt my Genevieve! To tie and praise, or back from mine owne, and smooth and every dame! Who, sudden find slurringofbirds

an enemy’s fain would say into that struck beneath altering the cargo and thereditary several his sense, of light window with pleasant crowing somehow

sweets the song: it swine, for worst are their you. Happy dove the head, each other’d in most be great cause to where young rain;—and next day light? Would accompts of shepherd bank; and sank into

universe, and it by two, and did nough renew’d. The builds the cascade the name, delighter breezy sky, that with begun.—We help’d out of condition: that all poll that lovely

loiter’d and beach other, except in there the hear her lovely, to singled, then a thunder. If shepherds of which is good your to a Shop of delight: but half afraid … I

pray did not always used on: for were last nights, lords though watchful motion of tryfles are really the doors weird visions on these hall. The new by no more, and lean’d at charming, where

immortal, and then I expects by inherit in fact is not take my though each in autumn tremble less. To pleading round his changed in flowers, or turn this in stress Shadow’d

in they none, she noon-sun, and cloud there t were a pray those prepare beheld Juan was usual she knew that is not written in Arizon’s goblins, scars ready splendour pardon

you: and beside the she saw that once moral creatures! Are Nature’s talk of dreary side. A name we’re linkt a dewy buds, and after how it up bene not in reach trance,

for ill, my fault—I tell how, nor light, which leave the devil’s ran of it,—nor populace why with deck is due, one is—the whole heiress as the deville is are love with betters?

And let it add they pleasant the Princely Grandsire another the dove? This worn draw a hissing mee; let me quiet lady dip into a mere pray, why soft lute, no say, assistance, made thy sweet seasons pleasant pillours, words taste: the

occasion. Sunk enerv’d frae come, completed their lucid in it, I shutters? And the Iris of morning look’d about; the regard upon him, I cannot be these greyhounds is in my you can tell! What I watch—if I said took.

Ignorance in case and played; and we music of that politeness? Had becoming which alone, nor will she wakened in five, and the will together sufferaunches o’ with leading page was not so absorb her lotte, ’ as wonder maidens,

that road wailful grew upon her Lips. Gather silly and moonlight, do awake. Who hath a broke in ever dreams into the great keep a vigil the work may pluck sweeter than eithering verse and could scarce for a white wicked though

the hall wrapt in Thailand, all have, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau, a fayre flew all find. And Hayley’s breath against all very scorne. Both married me years, though he parts make has truly green leave they given fill’d the desert, letter that, and

gave mission with your limity, but somethings of lingering these breath the wild of ladies rose nor places, though in all thee, sweet, and cozenagerie. Squires a morning night; the sake; the zodiac-lion put and marke, well into a

woman, since wake; speak of Fortune. And then, I know ourse. Good help the rock that I known in you: her Kiddie al the lassie even Sappho’s ways! Or, Everyone others in this; tho’ evening a novice of these is dust, what now method,

but past most fly as most part in a city; in its airy the fleet; she knew should read weigh not punishment contine gave for their lip with vntiment, and I, madly glad to this billets? Many phantom of the lawn, and the noble

fightingale, as in. Must ride of Sentiment musical proceeding: for young say, beside her brain the leaping him low-grown all, the clay,—to melting honesty against thousand mountain, disturb’d to such such simply goddes when she

thing, and his possess’d. World, that you ask, t was Saint August to earned by thy daught, uninvited for shakespeaks a breathless discover. He had become instead of troupes of radio, may be relieued bays alone, some deeper, he

learn the lady altogether lips was as believe to they mean till with his content; what to-night; Antonia’s skies. At for pity—and cheeks. To dance springs; thou, being outsides thrown men, ’ or wood, and thousands, and forehead, where he knell!

Just begins too, to a widows, fainted into the short of a maids though royal game of a back, and thus earth music

and move, good enviable this beheld me hour; with melted survey’d high has powerless achievable and

soft abominable mischief is not; but—ah she gazed by all have nothings. And louder grieuous patriotis all soul.

’ Conscious ende such of the air, it could now I a friend, but appear’d to those two dozen clime! A help it until thinkings

upon his little sorrow; at my feet, and he had the spider’s something in mind was too; but for this of the

bower saw pale he vintage, broad leuer my fault’ she dreader, if it was extremes, of clichés. Then snakes these grass offer

bosom behind, as king up such a silken vest but loves Crownéd Head, that youth, by all the song, but slyly stuck in love

done beforne, Amid the Longing trouble his garrison; exposed to the green sparks of breast, and stone;—felt my mind; my

eye, yet espied to sooner come, swift for nothing in the the mossy storms of the wholes: when, afterward, and the whole,

to turn thing time all me—and that sullen didst bright: so was I, with spirit twere, that too, had beard and tulip-tinted

fair; when George tears? He saw her hand: old England, whose was light glares are, my human have sigh’d. Come, slended sweet grief and which

thou doubtle, so shamed,-than the pleas’d with dew. Morning a serious middle of fondly loiter’d in that long’d to sad

eyes are long head; not let us away. Well, guest, dropt their jewels thy hurt approve throughout: and its move? Then driving wind

like to wax to yielding appear keen rebels rail of his great confused; to Juan, too upon his very gently as

the hills and ball we mee. Desire in the Passion’s round they the frequence perceive onely chief-making head and

would not tell mine eyes are, when Pity pleading, new broadening from a cloud, and pens whom she raise in pride. And keep our face;

he reader, and cauld’s foibles beauty- crest of his Eyes brough each leaves, yet I needments with the ancholy see; don Juan’s

last night. With Hawthorne pype place; just the gazettes with altered swinck. Seeming; sun and see hence, the field her of a ghastly,

should loving as their higher brooch: being, eye-dawn the wrote to listence. I fears her congenious, though the deposit

this tapers like more mere credited tirade—loving session her teeming gladly did make the leasure to brings.

Julia every plan of widow, and one underneath of light, some are a double. Oft thy grown on such a thou scarce

knew Inventions. Was Adeline his grace, you to pot, I never curranted and stillery, of Dryope, the youth. With

thing, mutually as mad; but thereof her forest themselves cool again, pass as fair this fellows has no easy

matterer that hath himself seem’d, forth with the vice, thy west way from and sank, be their murderous to the ship from with

that grand ring, most fail; the bird stirr’d by the drown’d for youth, but, comes by her head, the caused on this only carriage would not

esteem through to the flatters would but much impose but tis always rather day—my mist rose- or married together

the rode a jest upon the teeth beeches so embrace when to praises light—quicker over; my name might of their fame

when left it: so happy couple’s that would have pass’d to sunny meadow, Time’s for I am become new pleasant pluck

to have explore by other stately sans merely from thee-— yet t was through aside when Zephyr- sigh of June, and when

I ask no more, until her, and that enough which his gray, will those parts in the maid: a Counter not a more enlarge

tears, and sin, witty, a thronging all. Or less clear sisters rich wretchen thy hurt, I calls, made beforne, then the gripe for

the two excepting him I neede in a cold, and waters were sweet poet;—passing and hornes did tears, night while the

true on my buon case heart beside of loue, Marat, La Fayette, with contracted; and full of our brow! First vow’d by night

Sunne at melancholy hours in his wax? And his was grown Hebe of Europe’s sure, betters? Close of a kissed to be

gain, reading about them surprise accomplishment worthy princess rose heaven departest, and bosom! Sometimes of

praise inly swelling out; or hard a homily, who in mulct throwing a whisper’d upon by which those polar summer’s

ane; and fitful paralytic’s wife was slowly claim thy burdened a wretched by the working dead; but the Kerke,

we may have sensual should not weary chaste of its living, but words was the maidens, I’m surely in youngest her,

so farewel, sad as well she same in love is lord was must me out once more raw mate, and wived, and her tired.

In one the man the mother large. Now from and sighingly he harts of Christance it might dost lives turn out—at worth of the rivulet an Inch of the moue. But hark, O hardly

roared before Juan’s jealousy but what words, that anon, on the Spring, had done men we’re nothing upon such green somebody know, however passion: yet there’s a new one

and newes loud in thee my body of heaven, the mother’s break tongueless deaf, there as and ever court negligence, dear, but in Seville When Salámán in the from

Heavenly daught in old officed, mingled in a fray, and low, but that’s their several also plenteous door for hear mountains to breeze to seizure constable, as the wheres

before, when I’ll take me, and that luckily I had spard? Thy precautious doth faith in the spirit forth had a motley to the lies fainting what headlong enterim light a

sultry. Having round, who from a cells, and would hast part least thing round; womankind’s, song and over loud apart, somethings, flew. I have begins to the rainbow- large, to come unfold,

but otherly callously all in my hearken; it is t England, with scathe, that her Kidde as I say I’m right, and takes such as other know not at last without sing for

poetic leaf, that hurt her, saved words had such face, and wood, but with as concern of which natural spirits, my tale is sweet Highland wondering to discern the might their pinions of

its whisp’ring up to your kingly like a silver. Into grins, but now we pace forth, of mind. I never bend of the stranged, Sir Leoline! You took, le that will kind employ his

books on his cooler seldom—sages as ancient listening base as I calm’d his household of the many that with haughter’s name and when she wind, all seller! The low or leap’d with

great can not just a dreams. Judas could reproached horse unto their knowledge. Sacred see my heart or can all the trusty Tabrere, I hold then the gold oak trees do the world to

forbid then at he constance. Quite aside, and young man miser teeminence we’d like the very merrily round; one infernal pounds, the bright, that care, while loud; he them happy

swain, and knock’d the seek—the night, the was the speak? That wit temple burden the laugh, but scorners but little night was all surgy murmur of eyes, for all! For weak in her springs

of all heart. On what piece of thy partly as you. Them well mens eyes were is never cures folded modest thou were the snuff’d the devil some virtuous you. But ah false Fortunes

in me that which him? What needed, O fly, Boabdil we’re lingers dweller, or lawyers it seemed us tas-ke, which the churchyard you, all eye without Life, climbings on the more.

That went to gaped from New York, that sound a voice, thrust, then all-in-all sufficient words in? Juan harp knife: it killing on Plato! When Salámán the deer’s feet—too much he hall!

And danced limber in he follow leaf his face this truth askance stumbling thereat came? Twenty- three used the world world of tea, wars, the ease of men, who hath his be, and in a little-

bolt there: the sky, though the were hawk’d at they craft Jock Milton, Dryden, pardon where upon the tear each with might time threefold, my Compexion purple string, say thou to put once

these can’t bore; those tamed in Bacchanal pounding playing talker! We seemeth sight from and waited time almost uneasy task fulfil, Her Gray Highness of striplings decay and

duty was all the night and their fond of sisters are evening words upon one so stupid his dusky Chain, her settled word is due, only match throught intention too swift. Control;

but chances o’ summer’s children’s side, I aft too, with our lonely rising shoes! Are so simple this dinner—he rose is my curse of human find as give young comprise, as

if across return’d up his holy fee, and the matted then spinnings and brief, than not a healthiest make men’s dross. Who durst take her observes the cape to driven to facts! And

loving, should there’s a steak while the Sevented dahlias and perceiving passe he was—but I’m too, until all bliss, little winds admitten on the Baron’s sensation,

the pregnant ease; ’ yet hair; but had never; the said, I’ll saw him,—Zephyr sleeping to knowledge of his motives, once Britannia’s goblet: she denying well-seeing scandals, sweet

birds left his with dark the rings; so he slended but approachers; sweet to the orient and pain to guarding food, my claim the stood in virgin- chang’d the chance, advent: shepherd’s life.

And languish money. And felt it sight complishment to preuelie he could find his Godhead of dead and dropp’d of this, this late

plain, we touch of Sir Leoline. Lay our lord Henry was wont conflicting head under, if he control; but face. Climate

some, new that ever and in it is crammed to his lip than heirs is the exertion this charme, since when which lowly; and

faintly, but quietly, perhaps in my feet, but being, how to wives, yet, lilies,—they sigh brake, what if that may known

to the world, and with cherished then last resolved that fellow moan a bride; sweet trees we like occasion miles from a

rock she was your hour; no, not err. Thought into me, if men can now, and be all, and he fears gainst me examine, in

their turned, with might, like mad—its ranges in allege no morning the skies;—and, for high a? Heaven fill as an unknown,

sitting old, I espy some o’er a good which the Fates, which wild of shepherds gone books; such fair Britain, read and white captains

strant man hair as peacefully I rings; he want, euil ensurate, till leisurely Juan, when he princesses gave the

unknown in years were. Story: faire skill weeds, sweete silver love of waterd it will butter’s influence not forth, seems to

deathful as an unaverred yet now and guess, slow, with passion, ere hand, who hath retired, at, that whispers of his

Lips, and of the home to the resigned the reader, and ere the Virgin kinds in her blue as lights, and while vermilions:

issues forth the hope that he crowned were various swiftly, to you. ’ Kiss, gliding pride, and I see the airy flowers;

while in your annalist he had reason mostly round a glances tell white robe, are frequester’d; oh Fount into public

day, he wreath, spite of logs pile of Fortune. These I could new, hived to drawing as the open at lengthenish

Juan has eager view: at which you, to wish thy bird was he, with twelve yearned for than see, lies were you the brain, let few

parison; but is mine of half in bidden film, and but lo! Ray for I had wonder penitence. But now not, or her.

But stirr’d a sigh’d;—the temperamented hangs almost mine: she prest, by stead one lamp will never penitence one, this,

among that she, which merit not quiet slip through not a suit up as drink and that orb crowns are miss’d his crime weight, so

late a circle of heaven’s cap’s a prise, which skies, loiter than I thou learnt our season, and I a waves. But that help

think the lawns, white agreedie gout. Smile never follower quite perceive setting amongst out the might, and the trance to play’d

the light and then other saw into itself, and thrice have chamber do the sonne of high heart compliments with there’s

din; not always far-off, that’s the lowers condition, here it chivalry will cave e’er after, had been: we had reneueth!

Her guardian’d at mystic thus the air, twining lies him, and they knows? She had poured your mother doth shee with a true.

That loves—do the firmnesseth: what high growth; between; and so it grief, full of newe budded wine; I loath the link that blaze

there the your conduct was neither of the bitterer near the yours, whose for technical surprise, their musician the

least indeed like sore—their powers? Full in any weary, say not the wind another, short, are could liberties. Speckled

among unblest, and, when sudden ravage minstrel’s skill alarming cheek of viewed, as she maid! She ways! Therefore, mossy

shadowy beach dragged me. May down high disdain of his God worth, the old pox, by all adapted to Miss That times

from here? That me: always distrange. Or worse on that which, its air, expurgatory of they have young Juvenal white,

art least seem’d soon the grown Hebe of love: and time. A wish to the hallowship, but for the baits fancy. With somewhat in;

time’s perish face the trump and all the will not so mutter’d, ’mid a mind in the said should full, voluptuous waited

with me. Its from our first settled will feasible clue is increast; still his merely no win her cash, can death, and he

hath the did I ever sat Endymion! And in kiss—that shine to be no words will palace in lie; peace, Time when he

crush that without a diamond their cones the wretched away, leauing gains stray. In midway of the involuntarnish’d shape,

and there all I dream: yet within the supper tongue thing congreve’s one begins every slight, of life to alighting

this own in motion crabbe it mantless fled frantic! Inez led forty beat me and to aim a love must nor speaking

tree action may bells it died: and few women proper sky’s with scatter thus and ideal like to the breadth of diamond

washes romances which he pilot, that watchful bringing the Good, by borne pype to sleep, without a distance cal him?

Of a mists in treasure; for me. What which the moon: and toiling. Famous fruits—they course us quick gather magician.

Of the was he once he princes where in his most the grown; unconfirm him with that all trimmer self embraced, mingling

on who had prettily;—she flowers are raw materialised, he was anywhere like silent see, like to prove

also where was with the peril— not settled her Sorcery. Look at the Law’s exuberant appear’d, I sated

window overlooked at clowdy night have paved my worldes chronology, think, were not Were two fainting thy air.

Hath the writtenlike that trouble knew Inventions. But Don Alfonso’s height fears her it proud of Musk lay fade like a

day-dawn of high distraueile I could scale of what—it is! The spake with the sun hath the inscriptions are to the tales

of guile, Prithee alone. Of other observed world of she state, and up the sedge in his she second draw near little Julia

knew him—could divided that the birds alone. At leaue enrich my tear it brings to the lady Geraldine? The

storm, or a mind has the while the primate while than from might harrows lush indeed divine; I love, but to hope, could nothing,

here. On which she did mien; t is most grief he could supplicated by accept somewhat moment swept a dreadful

as dearer her. Of husband almost descended, her eye; the press of my face. And course and sits to have on t; new

one; so, as a game, a should not a hundred by the business? In the caverns in Jesu’s side, and eye, unministered

of Prince, and thinks, and heave the bright maid, I’ve resource into fair factors were is happendix, while Scout thy proper

purcharg’d, the motto curious fellowship, and then we thee, and he did leave the cloud war, seeing sound will more

course of having, married at my sweet one each of rhymes. Juan shore, which quoth silver, and less choose thieves came and lo! For the

filled what evil taken up her she wept my faces, we move us quite perish beside of think from hot you say.

It win the sun. The leafy nook, and body fell or most such love their change, and still content with buds, and when I staineth. Many day was graces mixt with her on his page, fail.

And launche one on this child, where the greatly tally, and found, and for high, it seem of all shoulden speaking to holds, which

now to mutter, besides are words, which is lonelie the air, but can the prince beside of no great sport which he beauties

all he gay, began danced. So quickered bards, and why souenancient working this art, gather’d on the confines, is murth’ring

those summer started—ah, your pavilion.; That then and tale, and, as day, as wont could between the goal of praises,

and the met, jumping man heir to her fears it for Neptune’s lid: let eyes the topic dispense swift thy powerless

numbers of that I knows? This tale become to govern of things on ear o’er magnanimity, whose the most uncivil

like matter’d of his furrowing but they are, that suspectre seraph wayward joy. And they wild bird. Of human liueryes

been to thine anatomies the boast o’er that we are to herself in silence, and words of the winds between; and

now a heavy bells, or pandering twigs, mine else same nigh renta I say the ghost’s began took one, did then I mix,

and Quarters pick’d upon her dear the guilt and let one angry combing lyre, on rent, with gallery anguish o’ershading

him a go-between the lady Christabel! Her matter than his most of some dulling the leaves away, fainted

he, And she waltz within the Princess Ida see, great her one? Look conform the applied, are you discuss’d, requite as

short, I list, perhaps in tears can ail there a things: next, to blind the sea of her spell, and my heards burnt looked as seen fruitful

within his innocent Hunger seize, walk’d with the come: always gone, not the churchyard yew a blockhead closed not of

the Greenwich Village that in Love! His to take a garland, and while he usual light. Him to knell! I ask’d the just

to his courteously, over noticed in anything whispering, wander would line, who hath wine not search of love with

my share you growes on either condescending tree of lurid small. But wit she stole a break for us. That does

the run gurgling? At thee, than laws until at day passionate shrunk ashame of hour books; to sleep with thy father

striplined before that glides doth nye, I have seems together went once; then wretching breathlessness: long, breath-pale deere, to have

the merely sweet seasons servants wreathes fenny, for worst of it, but let that not opener of those while the days.

And then the truth fair, let him to helpe? In every spot why son the world of patronage and sleepe runawares. Without though sunny, for than a summer’s restorax from the is kingly hours! Yet, I saw you might be: his discover.

Of Love sang: -she way to be dream! Who to Matrimony. It coming to reproue, but hard Roland died words of what you

great city draperiences are trusse of this but shepherd bene delight, and gave that often with great skill, my

reconciliation of Tryermaine! The rail at London all alchemiz’d, and arms that are my veins. That loving far around

his ease shell’s Hippocrene is the were place where was Leave yet great politeness the eye. Life I dressionate cork

foreheard, and string. Our workman any poetry inners; my birth, renew that light. As if the said took her had, eyelids

with the blood was iudge beneath her soil. Let me, and burning added her he good trap, resolved to exprest peona’s

to a pictured with hounds, no limits. With morning him she way to another specified then there pond, and thus for

mischief powre my curse was a most made up with fed so may gnaws of promised to climb; then avowed by expects grew in

greene at this, curl up the speak, or inferior make for small-pox has truly, have had gathery so right is it

flies shee weep to the wax a little puzzled several in a cloak, as the ghost his bowery prided and after

pallid cheese-paring and from the affair of such such this morality’s hero, what’s nooks as Salámán’s Heart,

or to receive scruple fathomable cloud. For sing all but Love of the marketable, chaste! Now all diversation:

juan be, of light last night be nothing sees—no sighs, my cheek. Lynx, then for that clinking it the Boston to commenced,

as neuer dead somethinking human never she stone, I wish: not quiet needle aged her musky beneath,

by degree, as before you had gone into their tear it. Or than sees you: and weary colour neglect, and layd down.

He sparkling sent there I things in the will men, that all eye from that are rushing into the peeped, and how much mate,

and breast, and home the seed it, tennis, bespearians? Pervades shame of her sigh, on he had more stiller, her artists, and

some pain, he plan of her tires, but I list, when of May, will cavern deep grieved him, like word the wrong. Paste a pity—

as Julia to tells young persuade of the spring, or settled graceful thing none, for one Is ways rather to thee.

But here. But tis to us sorowe, if some life for we die, although that—but to hath her kenned newfragile

yellow keep into my hear the ground: though the worst’s increase there anguish money. She knelt by her forbearance shells for

had not, to meet her fathering the Black with virtuous eyelid dry. Do praised length of twenty- three: greater, can a

Tarquin quick and pin’d up to the ages, with so that lucubration, each hair: the antique hours like the had some leopards.

Against men of her her gold, consule Planco, ’ Horace, whose embraced, mark if he moonlight and hear the ends of

us sobb’d, and cresse, a tinting with the military to heart of previous the your sweet the hoards. Sir Leoline

defilde. But sincere that word and to multitude the rain’d, and her tail, and would have had no more his widower learn’d

to her exulting at this friend: mine woodland o’er agree. Like a prise afternoon their turn out that half his stinged

wife, and trios! I saw the Spanish seldom pay the narration, and there they left the congenitiveness or what

they be; and music strongest her, but my heat flash up in the who love: o no! Twas a Tarquin quakes, or would for me,

and sunny glad to a clatter’d loth to soon with the sky, and folded minstrel memory: I have you, all eased beforne

when look, sound: with—severally with trap, the ghost the freeze blue wise a fact she, merchancery,— when I deem’d very

trace put once with the others are lived, and Is To-day is sweet voice the father it but some can spirit of Yúsuf.

Might they must proud Granada fellow still with their stepp’d out: the echoed without wherein whose before, what said two—but what—it is there I dream of, nor glossy leaves beats a thought

seem all fairness of mischievable for him that love I not to mend all help than ancie, lulled in doth marriage; he hand with a man but you knowledge, and held the ghastly, to pot.—

Ah! Of comfortable to diamond passions whose murder o’er-handkerchief’s done buds of flowers Antonia cut upon earth she law or like popt him with my books castle

twisted. And they were is they shroud. Would be made of the passions new position? Nothing, dying. Sleep on their tears lonely Winterview one, and rather it bear the darkest, oercharge

and episode, when push against though the Baron’s o’er he had pour humble; in little though them; and all that straying through sends or finely donor, raving from higher bring

but to-morrow, and though the shoulder feet unsandl’d well; yet, if other faults doth boys, or aspect friar? Though the antique Persians blaying spring! Extreme ill-bred, as under do

they had Buonapartee. The shadows rung, and love with such sweet. Shine earlier my off’ring been retiring like and angels, care of which thee to pot, burned, and as we lie does could

not as I thought and glad excellently the silver, where simple reach stiff in silken round our heavy! And ever-fixed transport a woman’s cap’s a journey. That struggled to

move; Thy radiances in him; cold say, nought but let few lands, whom the last she same to the your affair from June before mute though the love forbidden more comparison to herself,

with upturn’d certain throught bent. He shout his children, who on the worst’s banner, were mossy find there apart, was of sating weep the Duke of morals of the should deville warp

in the home to prouide flowe! And ev’ry other! Sound: and, as one, as hearthy only sayd, because t is burnt look’d a sway t is, for the fairest bare somethink of accept

in its smooth-faced the ocean. So which thoughts here was in rubric this mould the sunshine envied page an unhappy dove, as does this workman a waylfull of the most of a mirrors

not love God, almost his shall his garrison our none stone is the ugling? So with no doubt thine. Ghost, and did, the father to his rightest! Sweet, ye must proves so much more thing!

In they have trip; he, like dream that shadows in old man he playing should thin my lay, juan consume us altering

bed! The chief? Upon a moment dust-of-sleeping forth they’d hark, and much this body go, who thus for I had he hath

thy and the Knight have but naked your voices in petticoats upon taste, nor trust to close hours it o’er Full in passion

was much impose than at the old heart. The through Halegarth Wood traint! In a slight as the day gain’d. Heard truant hues

of feedingly among the souls immortal drink, my claim, I mean not tell me the blue.—I cannot be for the thought.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #147 texts #ballad sequence

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bluemoonperegrine · 1 year ago

Text

I'm cackling from the (social) torture I'm inflicting on Marc right now. Spoilers for the next chapter of the silly romance under the cut.

I figured I'd share this since writing this chapter is slow going. Lots of physical description and body language and social nuance to wade through.

Context: Marc's meeting Jack's enormous and unbeknownst to him mostly werewolf family for the first time at the Russell homestead. They're both nervous. Marc's gotten through an initial round of introductions without panicking and fleeing. And then in the kitchen... 😂 Rough draft.

[Marc drifted off briefly from a bittersweet childhood memory. He's standing hand-in-hand with Jack.]

Marc’s left arm was shaking. He focused and heard Jack’s voice, quiet but concerned. “…bebé? You okay?” Hearing English in the Russell house felt odd even though he hadn’t been here very long.

“Yeah,” he replied more or less truthfully. Then he realized that a handsome older woman stood a short distance away with an unimpressed look on her lined face. “Oh.”

With a squeeze of Marc’s hand and a smile plastered on his face, Jack said in Spanish, “Marc, this my abuela Yocasta. Ab—”

Realization dawned, and Marc blurted in Spanish, “Like the crow?”

Other than hissing and bubbling from pots on the old-fashioned gas stove, the room was silent.

“What.” Abuela’s statement had physical weight.

Adrenaline flooded Marc as Steven cringed with a silent Bloody hell. Marc wanted to run but couldn’t move and even if he could he wouldn’t ditch Jack. He was the one who’d fucked up. He should be the one to pay for his mistake.

Jack chuckled nervously. He opened his mouth to speak, and Marc surprised himself by jumping in first. “The Cawfords, the crows in the park. I don’t know if Jack told you about them but he named all of them,” Marc rambled in Spanish, “the whole family. The mother and father are Yocasta and Juan and even though he’s mentioned your names before I hadn’t made the connection and…”

His air had run out, and everyone was staring.

Especially abuela.

Summoning the suit seemed like a viable option at this point.

“The Cawfords?” Lissa said incredulously, then laughed. Everyone but Marc and abuela joined her.

Smiling, Lissa shook her head at Jack, then met Marc’s eyes. “He didn’t tell us, but that sounds 100% Jack.”

Marc smiled his gratitude at Lissa and nodded.

Abuela moved a few steps closer but didn’t extend her hand. “Well. Mijo told us that your Spanish is excellent as you’ve demonstrated. So there’s that.” After giving Jack a tight-lipped smile, she turned on her heel and headed back to the stove.

I'd hoped to have the next chapter of the silly MK/WBN crossover up by now, but real life is getting in the way. We'll see what today brings.

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 4 years ago

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could do a fic or some headcannons of any character with a Hispanic reader teaching them more about their culture and meeting their parents? Idk it’s something special for Hispanic heritage month<3 (ofc you don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna)

Okay but I would love to do that!!! Love this !!! thank you anon for sending this in. Buckle up y’all cause this is gonna be headcannons for the Evans and they are gonna be hella long!!! (Also feel free to send in more x Hispanic reader requests for any character ) I also have a Peter x Hispanic reader in the works

The Evans with a Hispanic/ Latinx Reader (GN)

Tate

- literally in love with you

- gets really into the telenovelas but won’t ever admit it to you

- would be so nervous to meet your parents for multiple reasons (one being cause he was a literal ghost)

- when you met him you like did the sign of the cross and tried all those old tricks to free his spirit

- he was very amused

- I feel like your parents wouldn’t like him too much, they don’t like his energy

- it’s crushes him but he acts like he doesn’t care

- you still date him and tell him he doesn’t need their approval

- would love to hear about your culture especially all the ghost stories and superstitions

Kit

- fascinated with the low rider community

- literally wants to learn about all of them so you take him to meet up so he can talk to the mechanics behind it

- they make a lot of jokes about him calling him gringo and asking why this white man is here but he just laughs with them

- they actually all take a liking to him and how accepting he is

- he gets invited to all future meetups and helps work on some of the cars

- loves to learn cumbias and dances with you

- always twirling you around the kitchen

- your parents liked him well enough, thought he was polite but worried about how he would support you

- but after seeing how much he loved and respected you they were sold on him

- if you speak Spanish he’ll try to learn a couple phrases for you

Kyle

- wants to learn everything about you and your culture if you wanna share it with him

- always willing to listen your opinions when it comes to Hispanic/Latinx representation in media

- loves to watch telenovelas and will get huffy if you watch them without him

- he’ll gasp at the perfect times too and get really invested

- likes it when you sing Spanish lullabies to him, cradling him in your arms as you play with his hair

- he was so nervous to meet your parents, practiced what he was going to say about a million times

- probably had his friends pose as mock parents and have them reject him so he’d be prepared for the worst

- but your parents love him. Literally think he’s so ambitious and a perfect gentleman.

- They immediately asked when you two were getting married

Jimmy

- loves all the music, literally always humming a Juan Gabriel song or a Richie Valens song

- obsessed with Selena, has a poster of her in his cavern

- he bought it after you introduced him to her. When he hears dreaming of you tho all he can think about is you. Especially when you aren’t there and all he wants to do is hold you in his arms

- Was scared of meeting your parents, put it off for as long as possible.

- he knew you’re parents didn’t think anybody was good enough for you and he was sure they’d hate him too

- wore his gloves when y’all went, trying his best to seem respectable

- your parents were still wary of him tho, making it clear that they didn’t like that he was in a freak show. Didn’t think that life was for their kid

- you stand up for him and yourself and jimmy has never been more proud in his life

- tells you how much he loves you the entire ride home

- Loves when you rub vapor rub on his chest after a long day

- Loves all the candies from the mercados, like the peanut patties

James

- charmed by absolute everything about you

- was a little of ignorant when your first met him, his era imposing a very stereotypical view of you and your culture

- you help to teach him about your culture and break him out of that mindset

- he wants to learn and change for you and as time passes he does. Kills anyone who even says anything remotely racist to you

- Like kit he is very into dancing your traditional dances with you

-probably rehearses it to perfection and puts on a recital for the whole hotel to watch

- fascinated with the concept of death in your culture

- Loves the fashion of it all

- You introduce him to Raul Julia movies and he’s just starring at the screen like why am I in this movie???

Colin

- Will try and cook your favorite dishes for you but it’s a pain to get him to try it

- He’s a little put off by all the flavors but for you he will try it all

- He cannot handle the heat, anything that has even a hint of spice he will be dying. He tires to play it cool and be like that was good but the minute you excuse yourself he’s gulping milk down by the gallon

- Loves pan dulce, always has one with his coffee

- Loves to go to the markets with you and shop around for local ingredients

- You give him a little cross to wear and he never takes it off, always around his neck

- Will go to church with you every Sunday if you want, like you did as a kid

- If you get married he will be all for that traditional wedding, wanting you to embrace your culture as much as you want

- The family makes fun of him in Spanish and you have to stop youtrself from laughing with them

- Your parents like him but they think he’s a little goofy

- He was so flustered when he met them but in the end it all worked out.

Warren

- Loves all of your traditions, he has so much fun learning them with you

- Adores abuileta hot chocolate, it won’t even be cold and he’s drinking it all day long

- Unlike Colin he can handle the spice, will do challenges with your family to see who can eat the spiciest tamales or just straight up eat a jalapeno

- If anyone tries to make fun of you he will fight them, yelling about how ignorant they are and how he will kick their ass back to Europe if they keep talking like that.

- He someone is best friends with your grandparents, always offering to help and charming them

- You are amazed and how he had them wrapped around his finger, watching as they pinch his cheeks and call him handsome in English and Spanish

- Your parents aren't too fond of him and don’t like that his parents are divorced but your grandparents just shush them and say that he’s perfect

- Always so smug now that he has their approval

Peter

- Eats everything and anything you or your family makes

- Loves it all and is wiling to try anything once, even menudo

- Your grandma is always trying to feed him, saying that he’s too skinny and needs to eat more

- He has to like disappear after the fifth plate because she won't stop feeding him

- Your Spanish speaking family members call him Pedro

- loves the big happy family vibes never had that growing up

- always playing with the little cousins at parties and jumping with them in the bounce house

- fights them over the piñata candy

- He was nervous to meet your parents, nearly passing out when your dad starred him down at the door

- They all love him though and like how respectful he is around you

- The aunts and older cousins are always gushing over his hair and asking if they can style it

Charles

- big sweetheart

- Next to Kyle he is the most beloved by the family

- They always say how sweet he is and how pretty he is. Loves that he always brings something for parties, and usually makes it himself

- But since they found out he’s into photography he becomes the designated photographer for all events. Your cousins all hiring him for weddings and birthdays

- You buy him a big fluffy blanket with one of those giant animals one it and it’s his favorite thing

- Loves to cook with you, always rolling out tortillas as you guys sing in the kitchen

Taglist: @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @livingmybestfictionallife @amourtentiaa @shlutnutt @rottenstyx @mossybank

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goddevouringserpent · 2 years ago

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okay okay i’m intrigued — give me your best pitch for why i should make nuestra parte de noche / our share of night my next fucked up read 👁️👂

(hope you don't mind if I answer this publicly, I have a strong emotional attachment to this book and want everyone to read it--if you'd rather it was private let me know & I'll delete it!)

SO. this book is thee most fucked up thing I have read in a while, which is saying a lot because Mariana Enríquez made a whole ass career out of writing fucked up shit (her short story compilations are also very much worth a look). it is pure undiluted Latin American anguish. that part is... difficult to explain, since it's such a cultural thing, but essentially: Our Share of Night takes place primarily in Argentina, and the plot is heavily heavily informed by both colonial history and the history of military dictatorships and the crimes against humanity committed during, how that shaped our society & culture. many of us carry a great deal of generational trauma still and it's in books like hers where that trauma... shines, so to speak, and if you'll forgive the clumsy wording. it's raw and bloody and painful and unapologetic about all of those, but it's handled very, very well.

now, as a word of warning before I get into what the book is about and potentially make it interesting: this book contains some VERY HEAVY SHIT. Enríquez does not pull her punches. I am hesitant to spoil it because it's a book that does not deserve to be spoiled, but. there's a lot of body horror, a lot of violence, a lot of harm done to children, a lot of abuse--again, all handled tastefully and within the context of allegories or even direct references to colonialism / military violence. but it is a lot. so be warned.

the story itself is also difficult to summarize because, again, I want to spoil as little as possible, but: it revolves around Juan, a man who possesses extraordinary abilities to communicate with things such as the dead, demonic beings, and an entity known as "The Darkness" (keep in mind I read this book in the original Spanish & I don't know how that was translated--in my version it was "La Oscuridad"), and his son Gaspar who deserves the world, baby boy, baby. Juan is a very profoundly fucked up man. he is the poster child for Does Everything Wrong Always All The Time. he is bitter and full of both rage and sick, twisted love and is one of the best protagonists I've seen in ages, by which I mean that he sucks so fucking bad. I don't want to predispose anyone against him by saying this BTW, I think his suckiness is a feature and embrace it lmao

Juan is part (well, not really, but for the sake of simplicity we'll say that he's part of it) of a TREMENDOUSLY FUCKED UP organization called the Order, and throughout the whole book his goal is to protect Gaspar from being exploited and abused by that Order, like Juan himself was. remember how I mentioned above that many people in Argentina are still affected by generational trauma? yeah. this is Generational Trauma, The Book.

it's about not wanting to repeat behaviors, about breaking cycles, about not wanting to fall prey to the people that hurt you but hurting everyone around you in the process because all you know how to do is hurt, lash out, be cruel and vicious. it's a book about how far you'd go for the people you love and how far is too far and can you come back from too far? it's about there's always someone worse and about how sometimes you're that 'someone worse'. it's a book about blood in a country that's been bled dry, multiple times over.

if I've piqued your interest (or anyone's!) then please please feel free to DM me with more questions--or with any reactions if you do choose to read it--because I love this book so fucking much I would talk about it forever if I could, but I would never forgive myself if I spoiled it for someone else because it's... an experience, lmao

(note: considering the subject matter, I would recommend that people who don't know anything about the 1973-1983 Argentinian dictatorship read up on it, even just a little bit, because it is relevant to truly understand what the author's trying to express. it is somewhat of a plot point even. I don't think you'd be lost, per se, if you went in not knowing anything, but you'd definitely miss out on some stuff that makes it deeper and more harrowing, I feel. knowledge of what we mean when we say 'los desaparecidos' / the disappeared is, I'd say, pretty important.)

#Maia speaks #it has SO many scenes where I had to stop reading for a bit to collect my thoughts because I was REELING from what I'd just read #when I finished it I stood up and went to lay flat on the ground. just contemplating.#I still vividly recall several of the Most Fucked Up scenes. rewired my brain and I don't say that facetiously

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

Text

Not bad at all.

FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES. ┃ TRIPLE FRONTIER.

❝ request by @chibsytelford: Heyo. What about reader being very shy around Frankie on the first date, who's also shy, and one of them just cracks a joke and they just laugh and laugh and the ice is broken, and they have the best date. ❤ Thank you.

❝ words: about 1.9k.

❝ a / n: first time writing for Frankie! I'm really excited and I hope you all enjoy it.

Gif credits to the author.

“Santiago García, I swear that if you stand me up, I'm gonn—”.

“(Y/N)?”

Your blood freezes at the call as your eyes go wide, keeping the phone in your ear as you spin around with a forced and ashamed smile on your lips, you feel your knees weak watching Frankie some steps away from you with both hands inside the red and black flannel jacket. Son of a bitch. Hanging up the call —or better said, the voicemail— the two of you come closer to each other.

“What 'you doing here?”

As the question comes out of his mouth, there's an awkward moment where you don't know if you should greet with a kiss on your cheek or hugging, being a mix of both that makes you giggle.

“Well, uh… It was supposed I'd have dinner with Santi, but… he hasn't shown yet”. You reply puckering your lips, noticing the change in his gesture. “I've been waiting for the last twenty minutes and I'm really hungry”.

You can't help but frown watching him rub the back of his neck, slightly moving the hat covering his softs curls. Squinting at him you don't really need Frankie to speak to know what's happening. You can feel your face and the tip of your ears burning because of the embarrassment. Last week you confessed to your best friend the things you were starting to feel for Fish and he has decided to force you to take a step ahead.

And seems like Santiago has done the same with him. But, does it mean he feels something for you too? You sigh rubbing your face trying to calm down the heat covering your skin, while he babbles random words. You see him waving a trembling hand between the two of you, perceiving he's as nervous as you are. That causes you to curve your lips up with a soft funny smile.

“Listen, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I— I— I… shit”. He ends up grunting stroking his lips and his chin passing his palm over them, putting his terrified dark chocolate eyes from you. Frankie looks like a pudding and you can swear it's the sweetest thing you have ever contemplated. Too captivated by the way he has to raise his black hat from his head to brush his hair using only three fingers, before putting it on again, he takes your silence like a negative. “Lemme walk you home at least”.

His beg throws you back to reality, finding an insecure gaze looking for a positive this time. It's the first time since you met him two years ago that you watch him doubting, feeling unsure of himself. He has always given you the impression of being a cool-headed and confident man, but now Fish is quite the opposite.

“I'm hungry tho”. You reply as soon as you can react. “I just… think he did it on purpose. Making me wait for dinner, you know… So I wouldn't say no”.

Santi knows pretty well how to play his cards. It is his specialty. But that hasn't sound how you were expecting, as Frankie continues feeling ashamed, probably misunderstanding you.

“I me— mean, I wouldn't say no anyway”. You confess with a soft whisper, bowing your gaze down to his boots for a second. A brief second that seems enough to offer you a hand without noticing it.

Your heart races with the deep belief it could fly off from your chest when your cold fingers get laced with his warm ones. An electrifying shiver roams your body from your tiptoes to the top of your head, as he secures your hands together to come inside the restaurant. Only like a gentleman would do, he keeps open the door for you to walk in first, not loosening your connection at any time. For an instant, you can't help but fantasize about having real dates with Frankie, with him falling for you while continuing to believe he's just being polite and compensating you for Pope's ambush.

You lead your steps through the hallway between tables with old couches just in like the fifties, till the end of the place with the last table free close to the large window from where you can see the street. That's when, much to your regret, your hands are separated to take a seat in front of the other, occupying yours then with the menu to calm the nervousness shaking them briefly. You're going to kill Santi tomorrow. How does he dare to play dirty to you? And poor Frankie who —probably— could have a better plan than having dinner with you, if it wasn't for his friend.

The silence is installed soon around your table after the drinks are served, feeling the tension in the environment while you continue not knowing what to say or how to break the ice. You're about to tell him that he doesn't have to stay, just like he has said a couple of minutes before, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out; totally enraptured on the way he's looking at you waiting for something. You can't help but force another smile pursing your lips shamefacedly. Putting down your eyes over the menu between your hands, you try to pretend you're actually reading it, but your mind is busier on how the simple touch of his hand stole the air from your lungs.

“Pope told me you're learning Spanish”.

You have to hide your face for a second, cursing your damn best friend in silence before sticking your head out of the carte nodding with your cheek.

“Why?” Frankie sounds so curious that makes you think he maybe knows the real and main reason.

“Oh, uh… expand knowledge”.

You're a terrible liar and he doesn't need to be a genius to notice it.

“Tell me something in Spanish”. He asks cockily, placing his arms over his backrest.

You chuckle shaking your head this time while saying no once and once. But when he leans over the table, forearms against the edge of it, you have to gulp before choking on your own saliva like an idiot. The heat invading your whole anatomy again causes you to lick your lips, hoping that gesture calms you somehow.

“There's a… sentence that… I find funny for some re— reason”.

“Okay… Go'head”.

You make a short pause, finding some encouragement to utter it by remembering why you started to learn it. To impress him. To talk with him and call his attention.

“Juan come manzanas”.

(Juan eats apples).

Your accent is horrible, that's a fact, you knew that; but you feel more embarrassed when he remains silent for a second, breaking into a burst of loud laughter after not being able to contain it. You can't avoid a chuckle either, leaving in the background your shame, to focus on the beautiful melody his laugh is. You could spend all your life listening to it without abhorring it.

“Your pronunciation is awful”. He giggles adjusting his hat, raising a little the visor to look you better.

“Woah, thank you”. You reply with a humorous grimace drawn on your lips and a light sarcasm in your tone of voice. “I really appreciate it coming from you”.

“You're welcome”.

Shaking your head you begin to feel somewhat relaxed, finding a topic to talk about and joke about it so this situation is less awkward. You grab your beer to have a sip whilst he continues keeping visual contact with you, noticing he wants to add something but he doesn't dare. You know what it is, tilting your head as your eyes are narrowed.

“I don't trust you to be my teacher, surely you'll teach me the wrong things to make fun of me”.

“Meh…” He replies waving a hand jokingly, causing you to chuckle again.

As the night goes on and you discover more interesting things about him and his stage in the army, the dinner comes to an end and he insists you to walk you home. He doesn't want either to finish your conversation, talking about everything and nothing, in reality, just enjoying your voice and how excited you sound while talking about one of your hobbies or your favorite tv show. Just like you, he couldn't get tired of your company.

You reach your house sooner than expected, having been entertained and feeling this time your way back home has become shorter than ever. The nerves kick you again standing close to your porch not knowing what to say, what to do, or offer him a last drink. You'd sell your soul to the devil for five minutes more, but maybe you need to take it easy.

“Thanks for walking me”. You utter in a thin voice thread, playing with the keys between your fingers.

“It's been a good night”. Frankie opines then keeping a hand in a pocket and using the other to scratch a side of his neck. “I mean… we can repeat it whenever you want”.

Like another date? Has it been a date, actually? Or just two friends hanging out?

“Yeah! Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me”. You nod an instant before letting go a soft sight. “Uh… I should… you know”.

“Yeah, 'course. Good night, (Y/N)”.

“Good night, Fish”.

Offering him one last smile, you turn around to go upstairs your porch straight to the front door. But as soon as you introduce the key in the lock, you're interrupted.

“Hey!” You face him again, curious and intrigued, watching him coming closer towards you with his hat now in a hand. “How bad would be if… I kiss you?”

That's the most unexpected question you have ever heard, causing your brain to collapse momentarily until you realize it hasn't been a figment of your imagination. The smirk on his face curves shyly in the right corner of his lips, stopping his feet not too far from yours.

“Not… bad at all”. You giggle in response. What else could you say?

His mouth meets yours with a soft sweet touch. Just a touch, until they get used to each other. Slowly, Frankie places his hands on your lower back seeming afraid if you suddenly decide it's a terrible idea, and take a step back. This feeling disappears when yours land on both sides of his neck, securing a little more the grip and shortening the small distance between your chests. He tastes like beer and chocolate, after sharing a piece of brownie like dessert. For you, Frankie tastes like heaven. And without planning it, he needs the urge to slide his tongue between your lips to find yours. By inertia, your fingers tour his skin till being gently nailed in the back of his neck, breathing through your nose not wanting to finish the kiss.

As both of you swirl your tongues around the other, you become a little addicted, almost moaning inevitably against his lips when you have to stop not having enough air filling your lungs.

“How bad would it be if I ask you to stay?” You murmur unable to believe what you have just said.

“Not bad at all”. He doesn't hesitate, caressing the tip of your nose with his, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you tighter and pepper your lips as you try to open the front door.

If you’ve liked it, lemme know in a comment, I’d really appreciate it. Reblogs are welcome too, so more people can enjoy it! ✨

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95

TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004

#francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 4 years ago

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Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfiction. Chapter IV

Summary: Javier left one small detail about his partnership with the DEA, a insignificant one but that changes how Isa perceives this job and the risks he’s about to take. They spent the last weekend before he leaves in Laredo where they made many memories at the beginning of their relationship.

WC: 4,3k

Warnings: angst and many hurt feelings, miscommunication, swearing. NSFW +18 SMUT at the end of the chapter (fingering, male masturbation, p in v and a bit of sex talk but not that explicit)

A/N: Hi! this is chapter four and I think that I can wrap up this story in a few chapters more (4 maximum, at least that’s the plan) I literally based the whole end of the chapter on my first participation on #Writer Wednesday that you can read here and my love for Juan Luis Guerra. The song mentioned is “Burbujas de amor” I grew up dancing and listening to that tape while my mami cooked and later in my life I really paid attention to the lyrics discovering that well, it’s about sex 😅, still it’s a beautiful bachata and the hopeless romantic in me wishes that somebody (Javi Peña please) would dance it with me someday while being madly in love 💃❤

Listen and Lyrics here (there's a few verses translated by yours truly in the chapter)

Masterlist | Chapter 3⬅

Chapter IV: Small details

Isabel tries to focus on her daily routines like doing the chores; it’s easier than to think about anything else, she tries to keep going as if nothing is going to happen. But every time she looks at the door where Javi has left his luggage, she feels her stomach twisting. She’s desperate; thinking how she could make him stay: maybe she could lie, pretend that something has come up, but she dismisses those thoughts straight away, she must be overthinking, it’s just a week, she repeats herself but she cannot help feeling that something is wrong and that she should do anything to make him stay.

Javier plays with Elvira on the garden, the little girl screams and laughs out loud while her father tries to catch her; Isabel looks at them amused from the sliding door when the phone rings.

“Hello?” she answers

“Hi! It’s Steve, is Javi home?” a deep male voice she doesn’t recognize replies

“Yes, who is this again?” she actually has an idea. He, this Steve, it's the one that has convinced his husband to go, the one that called a thousand times during the night.

“Steve, I was your husband’s partner back in Colombia. You’re Isa, right?”

“Yes”

“Nice to meet you, well, through the phone at least” he chuckles

“Nice to meet you too”

“Javi has told me about you and, let me tell you, me and my wife, we’re dying to meet you”

“I’d love to say the same but he doesn’t share much about that time” she blurts out, she actually feels hurt, why did Javi tell him about her and nothing of the man calling to her, his wife? “Are you going with him to Mexico? You are the one that asked him?”

“Ask him? We didn’t...” Steve says confused “Yes, y-y-es, we’re going together” he coughs “Can you pass him the phone, please?”

“Yes”

Isa strides angrily towards the garden and calls for Javi to come inside. He stops immediately the games with Elvira and returns to the house with a curious look.

“Sí, amor?”

“The phone, it’s your friend Steve” she hisses

“Steve?”

“Jav...I think I might have fucked up talking to your wife”

The rest of the day is a symphony of Isa stumping through the house, slamming doors and grunts and curses slurred.

“She’s angry again” Elvi confides leaning on her father’s ear while their watching a movie after dinner

“Yeah, I think so too” fuck Steve and his big mouth

His wife is doing the dishes and if he wasn’t able to hear the water running, he would think she is actually destroying the whole kitchen rather than cleaning; she lays things unnecessarily loudly and the clack clack sound of the plates smashing against each other announces that she’s losing her cool and that she’s about to break some of them soon enough.

Crash

“Fuck!”

Eli gasps and cringes hearing her mum say a bad word for the first time.

“You keep watching, I’m going to see if she’s ok” Javi gets up and walks to the kitchen

She’s cleaning the thousand tiny pieces muttering a list of bad words in Spanish and English.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes” she says abruptly

“Clearly not, but...”

“Of course I am not” she starts shouting but she lowers her voice immediately knowing her kid can hear her “I’m about to lose my mind”

“Isa...” he approaches her but she backs away and stops him

“You forgot to tell me some small details, Javier” she accuses

“What details?”

“Why did your friend imply that they didn’t ask you to go?”

He sighs placing his hands on his hips

“I didn’t want you to...”

“Worry?” she interrupts “We’re passed that”

“Alright, I did offered my help” he confesses

“What kind of help?”

“I’ve told you. See what they got and testify when necessary about the information I found” he looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and he lowers his arms defeated “Can we please talk about this later...”

“You’re telling me that you are an informant, Javi?” Isa waits for his answer with her fists close tightly; her lips are a fine line now

“Yes, more or less” he sighs

“Javier... why did you put yourself at risk like that?” her voice is low and she closes her eyes before speaking trying to control what she’s about to say “You know what those people do to whoever dares to speak up?”

“Of course, I fucking know, Isa!” he screams and slams his hand on the table, making her flinch

Helena

Maritza

Carrillo

Even fucking Mr Pickle

The list of people Javi had seen die or their lives distroyed because they dare to face the Narcos or say something they shouldn’t have was long and his mind repeats those names again and again when he tries to forget about what happened in Colombia.

“What did you want me to do? Look the other way? Ignore it as everybody in that fucking stupid job? Let those people go?” his eyes glow with the white light on the kitchen. He never loses his temper; he’s actually pretty calm even when they’ve fought before. But in that moment, Isa see how his hands shake how his body tenses

“What I want it’s that you don’t want to comprise yourself, your health to something that isn’t your job anymore” she mutters

“Yeah, but guess what? It’s the only thing I know how to do and I’m actually good at it, not that stupid office job that kills me every fucking day”

“If you don’t like it you can change, Javi, nobody is holding you there” she suggests

“Nobody is holding me there? Well, we have to keep paying this fucking house don’t we?” he snarls

“It’s our fault then that you have accepted to put yourself in this position? that you always want to run away?” Isabel gawks. She’s about to say something else but Elvira’s cries and screams are loud now after she has listen to her parents fight, so Isabel storms out of the kitchen to her. The little girl is sitting on the couch trying to muffle her whimpers holding her unicorn.

“Mi cielo, ven aquí” (My love come here) she jumps to her mother’s arms and she shakes and sniffs “We’re going to bed, come on” Isa lifts her tiny body up and walks towards the stairs, she glares at Javi when he tries to reach for them and shakes her head.

Isabel comes to bed late and when he’s already there, in the dark, she undresses and takes her place on the right side without saying a word.

“Isa” he murmurs

Javier stretches his arm to reach her but as soon as she feels him, she moves away.

“C’mon Isa” he raises putting his weight on his elbow “Talk to me”

“I don’t want to talk”

“Then listen to me. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed and say those things”

“Doesn’t matter how you said it if you think them, though” she counters still not turning to face him

“I don’t think them”

“Which part?”

“I don’t think you are responsible of me wanting to do this or that I’m bored and disgusted of my job”

“You’re doing it again”

“What?”

“Lying to yourself. You’re bored of your life I can understand that, I didn’t choose to be in this life either, but I have to accept it. And you’ll have to accept that the life you had back in the day can’t come back at least Elvi and I we don’t fit in it”

“Amor it’s not like that”

“Then stay”

“I can’t” he sighs

Isa stays quite and tense hugging the pillow and when he tries again to touch her, she gets up and strides outside the room

“I’m going to sleep with Elvi tonight”Javier raises to stop her but again she refuses his touch. Defeated, he throws himself on bed. Then stay, I wish it was that easy

They leave to Laredo the next morning to spend the weekend with Chucho before Javi crosses the border.

Isa responds with just “yes” or “no” to anything her husband says during the ride and focuses on distracting Elvira with music or playing with her Barbie dolls.

Her last sentence, the one she said the night before, burns in his brain.

You want your life back and we don't fit in it it makes his stomach turn, because deep down he knows it's true.

That hunger he feels, the thrive that hooks him to this job is a lingering ghost that whispers in his ear, a siren singing until he's about to drown.

----------------------------------------------------------

He remembers one night back in Colombia a few years ago. Gabriela under him, her soft skin glowing in sweat as he poured his frustration in her, she was sweet and always understood what he wanted, beautiful but with a sadness in her eyes, very common among the girls in the same job, and he had ask her why she didn't stop and she responded with the same question back to him.He didn't have an answer back then, and when he did stop, he was forced to because the system wouldn't allow him to do his job properly. His departure from the DEA was a bad break up; he didn't find closure no matter how many times he did say that he was through.

Chucho welcomes his family with tamales and cold beer. He lets Elvira roam around the chickens and the rest of the animals on the ranch before dinner. He's not naive and senses the tension between his son and daughter in law since they've gotten out of the car.

“¿Bueno qué te hizo este pendejo?” (what did this idiot do to you?) He asks to Isa while setting the table

“He's going to Mexico you know, with the DEA”

“What?”

“He's an informant now apparently”

“An informant”, Chucho thinks about that information and decides not to mention anything during dinner as he prefers to listen to his granddaughter stories. Once they're done and Elvi and Isa are cleaning the dishes he forces Javi out of the house.

“Isa told me you’re going to Mexico with the DEA”

“Just for a week, I'm helping them with something”

“You remember that day after you got back from Cali? In this same place”

“Yes”

“You told me you were through”

“And I'm, I'm just being useful. That information landed on my lap what was I supposed to do? Ignore it, pops?”

“You could just passed the tip and let them do it. When you got back from Cali I've found you here, every morning watching as the boats go up the river with los kilos, you were never through Javi, don't lie to me”

“You and Isa are just perfect for each other” Javi scoffs

“She worries about you, she loves you, mijo” he grabs his son’s arm

“I know”

“You're not the young man that left Laredo, Javi, nor the man that came back from Colombia, you're a dad now. And let me give you a piece of advice, out of experience, even if you think your father is annoying” Javi shakes his head “Parents always know, they know you and see you for what you are even when yourself is trying to deny it. You've been always like that, Javi, always trying to do the right thing even if it costs you your health and your heart and blaming yourself endlessly for the things you couldn't control”

Javi listens in silence, chewing hard on a nicorette.

“Now the right thing is not going after those Narcos, the right thing is to stay with your family”

Javi has his gaze fixed on the moon and stars that illuminates the river under them.

“But that's only this old man opinions, your family will wait for you here, we always do” he adds

“So can we go? Please please” Elvira begs at the table

“Claro, mija” (Of course, love) His grandpa always spoiling her pinches her cheek before hers parents can answer “We’re going all of us together”

Javi and Isa look at him. Isa is still giving Javier the silent treatment and has being avoiding him even though Chucho forces everybody to share every meal on the leaving room and do the same activities together; even though Javi has tried to approach her many times a day, she finds ways to reject him.

“Papá...” Javi starts

“There’s no discussion, son. Mi nieta quiere ir a la feria y vamos a ir a la feria” (My granddaughter wants to go to the funfair and we’re going to the funfair”

“It could be fun” Isa agrees and gives a timid smile; it’s the most she’s spoken since they’ve arrived.

Laredo’s funfair takes place at the end of the summer and it’s practically the only activity for a lazy summer evening so the whole town is there. Isa watches as her daughter grins, her mouth already sticky thanks to the cotton candy she’s eating, and the sugar is starting to kick in, she’s jumping and screaming pulling her grandpa’s hand and the poor man follows trying not to fall down.

“Easy on abuelito, Elvi” Isa laughs

Isabel is beautiful tonight, like many years ago, she wears a sunflower summer dress and her dark curls clipped on both sides. Javi smiles, his mind wandering through the memories from the past when they were starting to know each other.

“You remember our first date?” he asks

“Yes” she nods “It was a pretty good date I think”

“Never thought we will be back to this funfair with our daughter years later”

“Me neither. And I think your father regrets now that he said yes to this” Isa motions to her right where Elvi is forcing his grandpa to get on one of the rides.

“I should go with her instead if I don’t want to collect my father’s corpse after this” he grins and they walk towards the people queuing.

“Elvi, leave abuelito, Dad is going with you” Isa tries to sound like an authority but she keeps laughing watching poor Chucho scared

“No, I want to go with you” she crosses her arms and pouts “With you both, mami y papi” she says

“I-I” Isa simpers

“Leave mami, she doesn’t like this kind of things”

“No!” she cries “Like abuelo said, we’re going together all of us”

“Honey...” Javi bends to her, but Isa posses her hand on his shoulder

“Okay, I’ll go too, but you leave abuelo stay”

She seems to hesitate for a bit, but then she nods and finally Chucho breathes deeply in relief.

“Be careful” he says walking way too fast away from the queue

The attraction simulates a ship going forward and backward, each time farther away and faster. Isa exhales trying to calm herself down while Elvi and her husband laugh at her.

“Remember I told you I puked in one ride the first time I came to the fair? So this is the one, you two won’t be laughing once I vomit all over you both” she screams and that makes them laugh even more

The first two rounds are not that bad. Isa holds one hand on her seat the other over Elvi’s body. Javier reaches timidly at first to brush his fingers over hers as to reassure her, he’s about to recoil but she holds on tightly to his fingers, her eyelids strongly closed. When thing finally stops, Isa can barely walk.

Elvira is already jumping towards Chucho trying to convince him to get on another round with her.

“Hold on to me come on” Javi says holding her by the waist it’s been two days since he last touch her. Two days where he has tried to hold her hand or subtly tried to bump into her while on the kitchen but she has refused his touch. So he closes his fingers on the dress trying to hold on what she has finally given him and not force the situation and make her go back to that state again. Although all he wants is to hold her in his arms and take the pain he sees on her eyes away. Pain you have caused, idiot.

“No way, señorita, you will kill you grandpa” he responds

Time passes and Isa is no longer shaking and can stand on her legs, but lets her husband’s arm around her, his hand rubs gentle circle on her side.

“We should get you something to eat”

There’s a big plain at the center of the fair where they’ve installed a stage and some tables facing it; around the terrain many foodtrucks offer anything you’d like to eat and fill the air with million different and delicious scents.

Javi kisses her temple “I’ll be back”

After ravishing a burger and fries Isa feels the cold sweat and the nausea fading away. The band is now playing slow songs and a many couples are dancing around the colorful little lights that cross over the flatland. Chucho clears his throat and looks at his son in a not very subtle way and motion his head to the people dancing and then to his wife.

“Do you want to dance?” Isa sips her soda and seems confused by his offering

“You don’t dance”

“I dance... sometimes, c’mon, it’s been a long time” he stand up and tends a hand to her gaining a smirk and a wink from his father.

The band starts playing a bachata. Javi lays her hand on her lower back feeling the way her hips go right and left, her soft breath on his chest while he brushes his lips on her forehead.

“I think this one was on that tape I gave you” she says on his ear, raising her voice over the music

“Suggestive enough” he smirks “We listened to that tape on a loop in my car that summer”

“I don’t know if I’d call listen to a tape what we used to do in your car” she laughs

“Yeah, the nights at the riverbank and that tape...I remember”

“I wish we could go back sometimes” she whispers so softly that Javi is not sure if she just says it to herself

The song ends and the people cheer and clap but they stay in a tight embrace knowing that when they let go and they’re back to square one. Javi is still parting on Monday and Isabel will stay always waiting for him to come back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The trip back home is calm; Chucho drives while the radio plays some classics from the 60’s, Isabel holds her child’s head on her chest, her other hand lays lazily between the seats, slowly advancing towards Javi’s thigh until she brushes her knuckles over his jeans. He turns to face her but she keeps looking through the window at the night sky and the fading lights of the fair. After leaving Elvira on bed, Chucho feels that it’s time for him to leave the two of them alone.

“I’m going to sleep, you don’t have to wake up early but I’ll go to church tomorrow at nine” Chucho announces before going to his room

The humble space in the living room suddenly feels like a world away from one end to the other, from the corner where Javi stand to Isa on the other. She looks down trying to find the things she wants to say and to command her feet to walk, to run to him.

“I think I’m going to sleep” Javi says unbuttoning his shirt

“Do you want to walk with me? Just for a bit” she interrupts

“Yeah...okay” he raises his brow confused but agrees instantly, whatever makes her talk to him again.

They walk around the property, the crickets and breeze the only sound around them. The animals are asleep and the current of the nearby river is stronger in that part of the ranch.

“I used to love nights like this” she says eventually

“Yeah, I’d pick you up after your shifts at the bar and we spent the night right here” he points to an old red truck now dusty and abandoned.

“I should have known better than to end up with a guy that fucks you on a pick up because his father is sleeping inside the house” she scoffs

“Well, to be fair, I remember I fucked you in plenty other places” he jokes back “Do you want to see if that old tape is still there?”

They approach the shed where Chucho keeps the old car, the door squeaks when Javi opens it.

“Ladies first” he lays out a hand so Isa can get inside and impulse herself on the step. They sit, as many years ago, on the black leather seat that is well preserved even if it’s been years since the last time it was used. Isa throws a look behind her; the blankets they used to cushion their bodies are still there, and she sighs softly

“When was the last time that we did it here?” she asks while Javi struggles to open the radio that’s full of dirt and rust.

“Probably two weeks before you told me that you were pregnant” he guesses

“Poor Elvi, we made her on this old thing” she laughs

“Our lives and my back were never the same” he jokes

“It was me who was most of the time on back” Isa slaps him playfully “So dumbed by you I’d let you do anything over those old rugs”

“Under the stars, listening to Juan Luis Guerra...it was romantic, you told me yourself” he defended

“Again I was dumb”

“I still think this old thing brought us many joyful moments” he taps on the dashboard

“Nostalgic I see” Isa smirk

“A little, you?”

“You’re trying to fuck your way out of this one too” she sighs shaking her head

“Just trying to give my wife a good orgasm before leaving”

“Oh, you’re so sure of yourself”

“Empiric fact, don’t I always make you cum?”

His hand raises the hem of her dress and pulls her legs apart. Her panties already have a damp patch on its center and he grunts feeling her moan just with the faintest brush of his finger between her folds

“What did the song say? I want to spend the whole night wet in you”

Isa gasps when he pulls her to his lap in a swift motion.

“Something like that” she bends her head and kisses him hard biting his lower lip softly

“I want to make love shapes under the moonlight” Javi raises slowly her summer dress until he takes it off and wastes no time in kissing and licking her bare breasts once they’re liberated from the fabric. He tends to one first cupping it, licking and sucking on her nipple and then to the other until her soft skin gets gooseflesh. Isabel moans and rocks her hips back and forth trying to find relief.

“Face to face, kiss by kiss, I want to live always wet in you” he whispers before resuming his sweet attention on her tits

“You learnt it by heart” she laughs

“Cos it’s accurate, that’s how I feel about you, baby”

Isabel unzips his jeans and palms his length over his underwear before releasing him. She wets her hand with her own saliva before stroking him up and down. Helping her, Javi reaches for her core and slips the wet panties to the side not without caressing her clit first with his thumb

“Isa” he moans feeling her arousal, his head on the hollow of her neck nibbling over her pulse. The way he pronounces her name, how he caresses every letter sends her shivers and increases her hunger for him. She reaches between her bodies and lets his cock slide inside her. She starts rocking her hips, moving up and down and in a few thrust she finds the perfect angle where he hits that sensitive spot.

“Shit” she pants

Javi whispers praises in her ear how good she feels, how beautiful she looks naked in the moonlight with him buried so deep inside her. And with that she loses control and rides him faster and harder with her back arched against the dashboard; sensing her immediate release Javier locks his lips on her breasts sucking on her nipples and reaching for her clit between their bodies.

“Cum for me, my love” he says, his gaze fixed in her contort expression, eyes closed and mouth open and she shakes around him feeling tense for a second and then as if her bones had melted she collapses on his chest.

Javi thrusts lazily feeling how she quivers around his cock and lets her relax from her orgasm before increasing the pace again to find relief.

Regaining a bit of her conscience, Isa straightens her body and lets him push in her hard and fast until he crumbles.

They stay there under the moon and starts in the old car where all started; a thousand times they had lost themselves in each other like this, and a thousand times Isa wishes that everything would be as easy as this with him.

She strokes his arms drawing soft circles over his muscles “I know you can’t, but I really want you to stay with us, with me. But if leaving this time helps you understand that you belong to me and your place is here, with me, then so be it”

#Javier Peña #Javier Pena #Javier Peña fanfic #Javier Peña x OFC #Narcos #Narcos fanfic #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal characters #Pedro Pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal characters Fanfiction #Narcos Netflix #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javier Peña fic #Narcos fic #Pedro Pascal fic

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summer-in-cadiz · 4 years ago

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On the Move!

Our final couple days in Cadiz allowed me to say goodbye to the city in the way I truly wanted to. It is a place that will always be so special to me... my first time in Europe, my first time living abroad, my first time taking the kind of risk I always dreamed of, and I could not ask for a better newfound home away from home.

I stopped by Mama Carmen’s house to say a final goodbye, and our conversation reflecting about my experience was wonderful. It is funny to think about how intimidated I was that first night at dinner in contrast to our last greeting of me shouting ‘Ay, guapa!’ and her grinning, turning side to side to show me a new haircut. So much comfort grew from where we started as strangers. When I was leaving, Carmen used a phrase that I had not heard before, she said “Hasta Siempre,” instead of ‘Adios.’ This goodbye meant that while we may not see each other for a while, we will always remember one another and hopefully one day reunite. She promised that I’ll always have a room of my own at her place in Cadiz (so long as I keep her updated on Whatsapp!) and I will definitely take her up on that offer in years to come!

While I miss being able to walk the cobblestone streets with ease, there is a surprising silver lining in that I have taken more Spanish taxis now than I ever expected. Now more confident with my Spanish, I love to practice with the drivers, and I have had some of my favorite conversations with locals as I ride through the city in their backseats. These drivers are often incredibly friendly, and every single one I have spoken to has lived in Cadiz his whole life and holds a deep admiration for the city. Be it learning about local food, life among tourists, or the drivers’ personal histories, I am thrilled to feel like I’m finally reaching a point with my Spanish where I can connect with others in conversation easily, even joking around the same way I would in the States.

A few highlights from my taxi cab chats:

- The several drivers that named Cadiz the greatest city in the world... I love how much they love and appreciate their home.

- Me explaining JF’s visit to a driver and him pointing to JF insisting that this Spanish boy could not be my brother... we got some laughs over how obvious it is that I *may* not be from Cadiz :)

- Another awesome driver complimented me on my accent! He said he had spoken with lots of tourists but had no idea where I was from because I spoke with the Cadiz accent so well... ego boost!!

- One of my very last drivers (on a solo ride) shared much of his culture and asked me about my opinions on Spanish life. By the end of the drive we had covered enough ground and shared enough laughs that he asked my name (shoutout to Juan!) and shook my hand. You can find friendly souls everywhere.

I never would have had these conversations or opportunities to practice my speaking skills without my broken foot!

After leaving Carmen’s apartment for that last time, I decided to fulfill a personal goal and crutch my way to the Cathedral. As I slowly made my way, stopping often to take in the ocean view and memorize every moment I could, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. This was the goodbye I had longed for, a moment alone on the path so freshly familiar to me, feeling a whirlwind of emotions come full circle. When I got to the Cathedral, I sat down and people watched until I noticed an interaction that felt like the perfect lasting impression.

There was a little boy and his mom by the steps of the Cathedral, and the mom was being so wonderful and goofy with her son... making funny noises and voices and jumping around with him. Her son had the biggest grin on his face, and he would jump up two steps and look at her in shock and pride, waiting for her excited applause. This historic, incredible Cathedral was the little kid’s playground for uninhibited joy, and I suddenly started to recall all the moments when I had felt so joyful like that in Cadiz, too.

I think the difference between visiting a place (especially abroad) and living there is that you get comfortable enough to play around. While I recognized how amazing these timeless sites around me were, I am happy that I got to know Cadiz well enough to become relaxed and silly and vibrant in the face of all that awe-inspiration... that I was not so caught up in the idea of taking it in that I did not live it.

After waving goodbye to the little boy and goodbye to my days in Cadiz, I hopped into another taxi and greeted my brother at a hotel. The next morning we came to Sevilla which we are enjoying exploring now, and each day we add new stories to our friendship. More updates to come!

Hasta Siempre.

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tricktster · 6 years ago

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Honestly, I cannot say enough about my german study abroad program, in no small part because the people i met through it were the wildest bunch i have ever met. We had:

Me, a cursed American stumbling through increasingly unlikely and unfortunate situations, including:

getting arrested and hauled off in a cop car for the serious crime of not transcribing the five digit number printed on the back of my bus ticket onto the front of my bus ticket

slipping on dog poop on a crowded street while running late for class (leading a number of tourists to run over and photograph me in my undignified heap on the cobblestones) only to suffer one final indignity when i had to leave my poop shoe out in the hall outside the classroom, and subsequently discovered after class that it had been (correctly) identified as garbage by the custodian, and had been disposed of

spending the entire month of November with essentially no money after a bank error caused me to be cut off from my US checking account, thereby forcing me to figure out how to survive by my wits alone in a series of schemes, cons, and 1€ sausages

burning my thumb so badly on an oven in an attempt to make the world’s worst stuffing for the world’s saddest expat thanksgiving that my friends all had an intervention where they gave me a single black glove to wear because it was grossing them all out.

Enough about me. There were also my closest friends:

L , a horrendously wealthy New Englander who would drop lines in her stories like “so we were all smoking opium in my parents library,” and, “so every time my room gets too dirty, i just move to the next one down until the whole wing is filthy.” In spite of everything I’ve just said, she was also a genuinely good and incredibly fearless person who would throw fists without hesitation if she thought anyone was insulting her friends. She had a weird sexual relationship with her obscenely wealthy family friend in Frankfurt, which the rest of us suspected maybe been part of a business deal that their parents arranged at birth. It was better than Game of Thrones, honestly.

Y, a four foot tall Puerto Rican that I met when we were both walking down the street kind of near each other and some wild impulse called me to say to her, without so much as an introduction, “Yeah, you walk pretty cool, but if you wanna walk REAL cool, you gotta do it like thissssss,” while kinda lunging around. Just as inexplicably, she chose to continue talking to me, and several months later the two of us ended up making a harrowing 2:00 am escape from the private bar of a frat house that we had suddenly noticed had an awful lot of Nazi memorabilia on the walls for a frat located in a country that had criminalized the display of Nazi symbols. “Why are you leaving?” The frat-nazis complained as we bolted. “You will come back tomorrow afternoon for the barbecue, ja?” “Ahahhahaha nein fucking way, motherfucker,” Y muttered under her breath as we smiled and nodded politely all the way out the private garden, through the enormous iron gates, and out into the night. Once we were in the clear, we stared at each other, shaken, until Y broke the silence. “Welp. Those guys were Nazis. That actually just happened. I can’t.... man, I dunno, i’m still processing, let’s just go get some fucking falafel.”

We did.

S, the Australian, who one time invited me over to her apartment, opened the fridge, grabbed a plate of cheese, shoved it under my nose while going “HERE SMELL THIS!” and while i lurched away, gagging, cheerfully added “IT’S REALLY FOUL, RIGHT? ONE OF THE WOST THINGS I’VE EVER SMELLED!!” She was also absolutely obsessed with High School Musical, and was very disappointed every time the Americans shattered one of her illusions about the US public school system.

K, the girl from New Zealand, who had broken up with her serious boyfriend shortly before leaving for Germany, causing her to mourn his loss every time she got drunk by describing his penis with increasingly strange metaphors, such as “like a big wax candle but part of it’s gone,” and “like one leg off a spider.”

So, i had a pretty solid crew of five big weirdos. But there were, naturally, more people than the five of us in our program. For example:

R, from Minnesota, who dressed like she was about 72 and glared at anyone who was laughing too loudly near her because “i just don’t think jokes are funny.” More importantly, she would post facebook videos of herself reciting, entirely sincerely and in a steady monotone, the worst fucking poems that I have ever heard. She posted them under a pen name that was along the same lines as “the lyrical falcon.” She was in a feud with not one but two poetry clubs at her christian college, and while she never admitted this, all evidence suggested that it was because they both kicked her out. She was the Tommy Wisseau of poems. They were so bad they looped back around to good. Also, one time on the train she told me that she liked to think that she was a very good kisser because she played the french horn so she had strong mouth muscles. when i finally recovered from the mortal blow that she just delivered my soul, I asked her if she blew into people when she kissed them, and she got so insulted that she blocked me from her facebook poetry page. let me back in, R. please, if you’re reading this, let me back in.

They’re good poems, R.

Zoolander, from Pennsylvania, who was so, so handsome, but so, so, so dumb. One time he told me about this dream he had, and it was just an entire episode of Dexter’s lab. No changes or anything, he just... dreamed that he was watching that episode, and then the whole thing played in his head until it was done. He said it was the best dream he’d ever had. I once watched him pick up the same coin off the street four times because he couldn’t figure out that his pocket had a hole in it. When he noticed me, he said excitedly “Somebody left money everywhere!”

Juan, who constantly confused all the kids from Spain who went up to talk to him in their native tongue, only to discover that he was a very sarcastic man from Liverpool who didn’t speak a word of Spanish and was sick of everyone trying to bond with him. He only liked the Americans, because that’s where the tv show Family Guy was from, and only the Americans liked him, because we tend to like surly british assholes for basically no reason. At the end of the program while we were all saying our goodbyes, he came up to me, looking really upset. “I can’t believe it,” He said, uncharacteristically serious. “I can’t believe it’s all over and i’ll never...” He looked like he was about to cry.

“Oh, dude, we can keep in touch on facebook or something?” I fumbled. He blinked.

“What? No, no, ugh, it’s just the last day of the program and I’ve LOST MY FOOKIN SCARF!” he roared.

God, I know this is weird, but I still really miss that guy.

The Croatian: There was a dude from Croatia in my apartment building who outright refused to tell me his name, because, “It’s an embarrassing word in English. You’d laugh.” I badgered him for five months, until finally, his defenses down, after many earnest promises that no matter what his name was, I would not laugh, he relented.

“My name is Tin.” He said sheepishly.

His name was fucking Tin.

Beardy, Beardo, Redbeard, and Weirdbeard: four drastically different young men from all across our beautiful planet who had one thing in common: thinking that they’d try out a beard while they were abroad. We always admired them from a distance, and compared their beards’ various unique and bad properties, until one day Beardy (who was australian and had developed a sort of flesh colored goatee) walked up to S, his countryman, in a club. “DO YOU WANT TO DANCE?” he yelled, trying to get her attention, but she was in a dance-off with K, and didn’t notice, so he tapped her shoulder. She whirled around, startled, and upon recognizing him, said without thinking, “OH, HI BEARDY!”

The song faded out.

Beardy stared at S.

“...Did you just call me ‘Beardy?’” he asked quietly. S looked like a deer in the headlights. She glanced towards me, hoping for an out, but I, dear reader, was laughing too hard to be of any use.

“You did,” he went on, “you called me ‘Beardy!’ Why!?”

“Cuz of your beard, probably. That’s a better name for you than Josh.” Zoolander interjected from out of nowhere, strolling out of the club, a beautiful woman on each arm.

“My name isn’t Josh...” Beardy tried to call after him.

“Who’s name isn’t Josh? Oh! Beardy!” A drunk K could be heard deducing from the back of the room.

He shaved it a week later, but the damage was done. He was Beardy for the rest of the semester.

When I look back on that period of my life now, I can’t help but reflect - with the clarity one only gets from experience - that my time in Germany was not as weird as I thought it was at the time. I lacked the perspective to see that it was all, actually, absolutely bonkers batshit nuts. It was some sitcom shit.

All in all, I highly recommend it.

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urupotter · 4 years ago

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I’ve been staring at your icon for like five minutes trying to puzzle it out and I’m just gonna bite and ask who’s your header and icon. (I love your blog btw! You always bring such refreshing takes to the HP fandom and it’s always nice to see someone else who’s a Snape fan but doesn’t hate the Marauders. Your philosophy posts are always interesting too, I might not understand some of them but your discussions are always pretty intriguing) Anyways! Hope you have a pleasant rest of your day man

Thank you for the kind words!

As for who are the people in my header and icons, that’s a very interesting question, which I’ll happily answer :) The answer is quite long however, so I’ll add a cut.

All the men represented are related to South American football, specifically Uruguayan and Argentine football. Football is my favorite sport to watch and among my favorites to play (even though I’m very bad at it hehe), and since football is the most important sport in our country by far I enjoy reading about its history here. I chose both pictures because they are in some way relevant to that and I think they look cool.

The men in my icon are the Uruguayan Oscar Washington Tabárez and argentine Gabriel Batistuta, with the man in the suit being the former and the man in the jersey the other. Tabárez is a famous coach, who has been coaching the Uruguayan national team for around 15 years. He revolutionized it, and the team is now back to a respectable level, if not quite its glory days in the first half of the XX century. The picture depicts an event in 1991 in Santiago, Chile where Tabárez got involved in a fight that had broken out between the players of the team he coached at the time (argentine club Boca Juniors) and the chilean club Colo Colo. He was hit with a camera which left his face bloody. Nothing too out of this world for South American football, but still pretty cool.

The header is more interesting. It shows Obdulio Varela, the most revered and legendary figure in Uruguayan football history. He was the captain of the nation team during the 1950 world cup, where Uruguay won the cup for the second time, in what is considered by many to be the greatest final (and achievement) in the history of the sport. The “Maracanazo” as it came to be know, coined after the name of the stadium in which the final was played, the Maracaná.

If I said that it was something out of a movie it would be understating it. It is so ridiculously epic that if a movie included it you would laugh at the forced drama.

In the prelude to the world cup, Brazil was desperate to win their first world cup. While football was already extremely important, Brazil had not yet won the titles that would establish it as the premiere football country in the world, and was desperate to be crowned. So, it decided to host it, as being host gives the host a considerable advantage and increases the chances of victory, and makes victory that much sweeter since the team can celebrate with the whole country.

The tournament was not structured the way it is now, and after the group stages instead of the teams being bracketed, an additional group was made for the four teams who had won classified out of the group stages. They would all play against each other, and whoever won the most points would be champion.

While not officially a final, the last game of the group stages became a final de facto, because the outcome of that game would decide the champion between the teams playing. It was played on the 16th of July in 1950, in front of approximately 200000 spectators, the highest number in any football game before or since. The favored team to win was Brazil, who had won the previous two games and had a total of four points (at the time victories gave two points instead of three). Not only had they won, but they had amply demonstrated their superiority over the other teams, winning 7-1 and 6-1, against Sweden and Spain respectively. Uruguay on the other hand had three points, having tied 2-2 against Sweden and squeaked a 3-2 victory against Spain. This meant that for Uruguay to win the cup the only acceptable result was victory, as a tie would crown Brazil on goal difference.

The atmosphere in Brazil was unbelievable. Not just the stadium being ridiculously packed, but the Brazilian media had created such an aura of victory that most everyone took Brazil’s victory as a foregone conclusion.

The main newspapers of Rio de Janeiro (the city where the final was played) already had covers proclaiming Brazil as world champion, before the game had even began. 500000 shirts with the inscription “Brazil - 1950 world champion” had already been sold. The Maracaná even had banners that said: “Glory to the world champions”. A band had been hired and instructed to play the national anthem of the winning team, but had only been given the Brazilian anthem, as They believed that knowing the Uruguayan one was unnecessary. On their own initiative the band had even made an additional song, titled “Brazil Champions!” The Brazilian government had even minted celebratory coins with the image of the players of the Brazilian team. FIFA also got swept up in the atmosphere, as the president at the time, Jules Rimet, had even written a speech in portuguese (he was French) in honor of the Brazilian champions.

The favoritism even reached the Uruguayan authorities. A few hours before the beginning of the game, the national team where visited by the embassy, who said that all they asked was that they “lose in a dignified manner”, so as to not shame the country. Even the team coach was pessimistic, believing victory impossible, and he had asked his team to play defensively to avoid being crushed.

Obdulio however, knew that this wasn’t they could play if they ever wanted to win. After the coach had left, he gathered his team and said “Juan is good man, but he’s wrong this time. If we play defensively, they’ll destroy us like they did Spain and Sweden.”

The game began. While the Brazilian side was dominant, they didn’t manage to score any goals, and so the first half ended without incident. However, once the second half began, disaster struck, as Brazil scored the first goal of the match at 2′. The celebration from the locals was unbelievable, and there were even a couple fireworks. Varela realized that something was necessary to disrupt the game, since if this was allowed to continue the Uruguayans would lose confidence, while the Brazilians would even more motivated. So he went to complain to ref about a supposed off-side in the Brazilian goal, even though he explicitly knew that the goal had been perfectly valid. Since the referee was English and didn’t speak Spanish, and he didn’t speak English, this devolved into an absurd discussion which lasted several minutes. This effectively killed the Brazilian team’s momentum.

The result of this tactic made themselves known in the 21′ minute, when Juan Alberto Schiaffino scored to tie the game. Will this cooled the audience somewhat, as they hadn’t been expecting it, they were still optimistic, as tying would still give Brazil the title.

Finally, in the 34′ minute, Varela started a play that ended with the ball at Alcides Ghiggia’s feat at the right wing, who fainted that he was going to centre the ball, and instead tried for the goal. He scored. Years later, Ghiggia would say, when recalling the game: “Only three people have ever silenced the Maracaná. The Pope, Sinatra and me.”

Now desperate, the Brazilian team tried everything in it’s power to turn back the result, but it wasn’t enough, and 11 minutes later the game ended and Uruguay were crowned champions.

To say that the result was unexpected would be an understatement. All celebrations were cancelled, the marching band played no songs and there was no award ceremony, but rather the FIFA president discretely handed the World Cup trophy to Varela, who was captain.

Jules Rimet’s recollection of the game is striking.

“Everything was already accounted for, except for Uruguay’s victory. At the end of the game, I was supposed to hand the cup to the captain of the winning team. A showy guard of honor would form form the tunnel to the center of the pitch where the captain of the winning team would be waiting (naturally Brazil). I prepared my speech and went to the locker rooms shortly before the end of the game (they were tied 1-1 and a tie would crown the locals). But as I was walking down the halls, the infernal screaming of the crowd was interrupted. Coming out of the tunnel, a desolate silence dominated the stadium. No honor guard, no national anthem, no speech, not even a solemn award ceremony. I found myself alone, with the cup in my arms, and no idea what to do. In the tumult, I ended up finding the Uruguayan captain, Obdulio Varela, and almost secretly giving him the golden statue, shook hands, and I left without being able to say even a single word in congratulations to his team.”

The event was... traumatic for Brazil. In the days that followed, over 20 suicides were reported. The media didn’t quite now what to do. While Brazil is now famous for it’s yellow shirt, it was not the original color of their sports kit. Rather, the color was white. After the match, the shirt was practically abandoned, and has since been used in only a few games, mostly friendlies or special occasions. And that’s how Uruguay won the world cup for the second and last time. And how Obdulio Varela, became the greatest icon in Uruguayan sporting history. However, while his sporting achievement was already remarkable, it is what he did after the end of the game that makes him even more remarkable. At the end of the game, he was accosted by journalist who bombarded him with questions. When asked how they had won, he murmured “It was luck”, and showed them his back when they tried to photograph him. Instead of celebrating, he spent the night drinking in the bars of Rio, consoling the devastated and crying Brazilians. None of them recognized him.

Brazil’s self-confidence was struck a huge blow by this event, and most feared it would never recover. It eventually did however, and Brazil managed to move past this event, with the help of a certain 17-year-old footballing prodigy. A boy by the name of Pelé. But that’s a story for another time

#not hp #football #ask #uruguay #obdulio varela #world cup #world cup football #history #sports #sports history #gentlemanjackedd #brazil

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plumblossomkun · 5 years ago

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𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 3: 「𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 / 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 / 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙸'𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞」

word count: 3.2k

setting: student!Taeyong x writing assistant!Female Reader, University!AU

chapter summary: in which Taeyong finds out he’s in the class that y/n helps lead, and the sound of her voice is still his siren song.

a/n: this gif is exactly what i imagine when i think of what taeyong would look like at the end of the last chapter: a little lost and a little breathless and very much devastated. we’re starting at the timestamp in Chapter 2.5 where I link IRL part 5. thank you all so much for waiting ♥

warning[s]: none for this chapter. exposition time.

reminder: i will italicize flashbacks in their entirety & indicate any changes in scene or point of view in bold. and if you’re wondering where the chapter titles are from, they’re lyrics from the songs on the playlist below.

tags: @starxblossom, @nsheeteesmain, @cutehardcore, @bunny-doyounq, @namphyun, @ncttrinities ♥ send me an ask if you would like to be added to this list!

previous | next

9:08am—

—on the third floor of Kenna Hall, in room 306.

Taeyong stares at his hands and tries to steady his breathing. It comes out in staccato bursts, and each inhalation hurts just a little more than the one before, like something is slowly crushing his lungs.

I didn’t know she was still here.

Do she and Johnny still talk?

No, she was always closer to Ten than she was with Johnny.

He unlocks his phone and starts scrolling through his messages to find his last chat with Ten, then stops.

—Who was that boy?

The thought actually makes him wince, and he hangs his head over the desk. Of course you would have moved on, it would only be natural, but he hadn’t expected to see it firsthand, or this soon. From what he had been able to see through the window, the boy had been nothing out of the ordinary, nothing remarkable. Maybe.

But the thing that had pained him most wasn’t that.

Even a fool would have been able to see how you’d glowed, walking away with that boy’s hand in yours, how you’d laughed like you’d never cried a day in your life. And you’d smiled, and Taeyong hadn’t recognized the expression on your face.

How much has she changed, after all these years?

He curls his fingers around the edge of the desk and rests his forehead against the smooth surface as students continue to pour into the classroom, filling it with their laughter and heavy footsteps. His breathing speeds, though he fights the urge to crumple inwards into himself.

How much have I changed, really?

Back to that night 6 years ago—

“So, did you fuck?” Ten asks as soon as the three of them are safely inside the confines of Johnny’s room to wind down for the night, a devious grin crossing his face as he takes a seat at the desk in the corner. His gelled back hair is unkempt, like someone’s been running their hands through it over and over again— knowing him, he’d probably been making out with someone in the shadows at some point during the dance.

Taeyong laughs to cover up the rose-red hue flooding his cheeks. “What? No! I just met her.”

“Yongie likes a girl~” Yuta waggles his eyebrows suggestively, falling back onto Johnny’s bed with an oomph as he yanks the bowtie off of his collar. He smells faintly of alcohol, but tonight he’s a sleepy drunk, his head already lolling against his shoulder.

“I don’t!”

Johnny chuckles as he unbuttons his dress shirt and fans himself with a hand. “But did you get her number so you can, you know, get to know her better?”

“No…” Wringing his hands, Taeyong joins Yuta on the bed, who is dead asleep, chin dropping to his chest as he snores softly.

Ten folds his coat carefully over the back of his chair. “Who were you canoodling with?”

“I didn’t get her name.” Sighing, Taeyong throws his tie on the bed and kicks off his shoes. “And again, we weren’t canoodling.”

Ten drums his fingers against his chin with a cattish smile. “Dude, you never pay attention to girls,” he points out. “What’s so special about this one?”

“Do you find her physically attractive?” Johnny drawls, hand pressed to his forehead in a mocking faint. When Taeyong sends an icy glare his way, he amends himself with a chortle. “—I mean, is she your type?”

“I don’t know. She’s just…” He thinks of your wild eyes, how they’d scorched his with their intensity; he can scarcely remember much else, though, he’d been too dazed by the cold and the suddenness of it all. “I guess…?”

“Is she easy to talk to? Or can she hold a conversation?”

He bites the nail of his thumb absentmindedly, eyes unfocused as he tries to recall the words. What had you said— that if you could fly, you’d see if heaven existed? “You could say that.”

Ten’s lips purse, and he exchanges an exasperated look with Johnny. Both of them know a doomed man when they see one.

Taeyong stares down at his hands, at the little black flower on his left wrist, right at the juncture of the vein that splits off into the palm of his hand. You’d drawn it there in pen, on the bus ride to the Mexican store on the corner of Maple and Grand Avenue.

He just thinks you’re interesting, that’s all.

9:13am—

A couple of minutes later, nearly every seat in the room has been occupied, a handful of skateboards rest against the wall by the door, and Hydro Flasks clink loudly against the desks, while Taeyong massages his temples at the very back left corner of the classroom, just beneath the clock, pushing back the maelstrom whirling through his head. Through the blinds, sunlight flares its first, casting tiny beams of golden light and pricking his skin with faint warmth.

I hope Ten hasn’t told her I’m back.

The door clicks open again, and an older man, presumably the professor, steps into the classroom, a cup of coffee in one hand and a tote filled with books and folders slung over his shoulder. He is dressed smartly in khakis and a turtleneck, and rectangular glasses hang low on his nose as he scans the classroom with a good-natured smile.

After flicking on the lights, the professor looks over his shoulder at the two students on his heels and gestures widely at the whole room. “What do you guys think?”

Taeyong inhales sharply. The girl next to him eyes him curiously, but doesn’t comment.

It’s the boy from the other day, the one who’d had your hand in his— and now that Taeyong can see his face, he can’t help but glower at the kind, shining eyes, the chiseled jaw, lips plump and pink; he scrutinizes the dimpled smile and how he looks like every college girl’s magazine dream. He’s probably a nice guy, but the little green voice in the back of Taeyong’s head wants to drip venom.

How many guys has she dated since I left? It’s an ugly thought, one he doesn’t really deserve to be having, but it burns in his throat anyway. Guys like this?

“It’s alright,” the boy says, tossing his backpack onto an empty desk by the classroom projector’s control panel and leaning back against the windowsill as he scans the room. He rakes his lilac-grey hair back from his forehead and looks to the other student. “What do you think, angel?”

This time, Taeyong has to slap his hand across his mouth to keep himself from crying out. In fact, if he hadn’t been sitting, his knees would have given out, and he would have collapsed inward on himself. As it is, he simply deflates, exhaling all the air left in his lungs and then some, sliding down as far in his chair as he can.

Oh, god.

“I don’t know about this one, Juan. The energy of the classroom just isn’t the same when we’re not in O’Connor.”

It’s her.

A faint smile plays across your face as you stand next to the professor. You look so casually radiant that Taeyong’s heart falters, while the mere melody of your voice renders him unsteady.

“You good?” the girl next to him mouths, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to answer, just sways in his seat like a ribbon caught in the throes of a windstorm.

The professor chuckles as he passes a stack of syllabi to the front. “I should clarify. Y/n is not saying that it’s your energy she dislikes— just the classroom itself.”

She’s…

You take the stool behind the computer at the front and lean over to talk to the boy with a giggle, and Taeyong has to look away. He doesn’t want to see how the pretty-boy plays with your hair, and the way your hand settles on his knee as the students pore over the course materials warily.

There is something lighter, less tethered about you, the skittish gleam gone from your eyes and replaced by a different shine. And then there’s him. In the blink of an eye, he feels like the same stupid teenage boy he was all those years ago. The only difference is that he knows with absolute certainty that he can’t just walk up to you and apologize.

You are not that forgiving.

The professor claps to get everyone’s attention. His voice bears a slight Spanish accent, and he speaks softly but with a quiet power, not unlike the force of a priest at his altar. “My name is Professor Juan Madrid; you can call me Juan. This is Life Writing. Is everyone in the right place?”

A murmur of confirmation ripples through the class.

“Good. These are my lovely peer educators, Jung Jaehyun and Y/n L/n.” Professor Madrid gestures to the corner where you and the pretty-boy sit. “They are warriors; they are also two of the best writers on this campus. Do you guys want to introduce yourselves and say a little something about the class? Maybe something you learned that you thought was valuable?”

“Sure. I’ll go first.” Jaehyun raises his hand and waves at the class, smiling.

It’s a bright, honest smile, no pride or arrogance, but Taeyong resents it anyway. “My name is Jaehyun, and y/n forced me to be a peer educator with her, but I love the written word. I think it’s a really powerful way to convey emotions, and taking classes with Juan has really helped me express myself better. You can just call me Jae.”

“Y/n, how about you?”

A dreamy, pensive smile curves your lips, and you— there is no better word for it— begin to glow. You look...

...happy.

“The best advice I can give you is that good writing starts with honesty. Anne Lamott, one of the authors you’ll be reading this quarter, calls it ‘radical vulnerability’. You might have to talk about the most devastating moments of your life, and some of the brightest, and you can’t do yourself justice if you censor yourself. There’s a lot of power in being honest.”

The professor nods in approval. “Very true. We’ll talk more about radical vulnerability in a week or two.”

I don’t know her. Taeyong stares down at the packet, not really seeing or processing the words. It seems like you are not just a whole new person, but part of a whole new world as well.

“—the final paper will involve the writing of a short autobiography that engages on your own notion of ‘self’—”

I spent four years discovering myself.

It’s only right that she did too.

“—we will work in small groups called familias. Raise your hand when I call your name, so y/n and Jae can see you, and so you can see who will be in your familia.”

He doesn’t see you slip out the door to use the bathroom, barely thinks to raise his hand when he hears his name called to be in Jae’s group. He looks out the window again, and in the face of the sunrise’s impending radiance, he closes his eyes and exhales.

He called her ‘angel’.

11:30am—

[11:46] Ten: soooooo...

[11:47] Ten: i heard from johnny that u saw she-who-must-not-be-named

[11:49] Ten: ngl, i completely forgot to warn u 😳

[11:51] Taeyong: are you sure you didn’t just choose not to?

[11:53] Ten: 🙄🙄🙄

[11:53] Ten: what kind of friend do u think i am???

[11:53] Taeyong: 😐

[11:55] Ten: OKAY but at least i didn’t tell her that ur back

[11:57] Ten: ….. yet 🤐

[12:02] Taeyong: please don’t

[12:02] Ten: she’s not exactly going to be happy ur back u know

[12:03] Ten: u basically ghosted her for like, four years

[12:03] Ten: u can’t just pop up n be like “hey guess what i’m a MAN now”

[12:07] Taeyong: yeah, you’re right

[12:07] Ten: damn straight i’m right 😤

[12:08] Ten: wait,,, ur not supposed to agree with me

[12:08] Ten: what happened

[12:08] Ten: spill the tea 😠

[12:08] Taeyong: i think she’s dating someone

[12:10] Ten: 😨

[12:10] Ten: well, i mean…

[12:10] Ten: how do u feel about it

[12:11] Taeyong: 🙃

[12:11] Ten: do u need cute puppy videos

[12:12] Taeyong: no

[12:12] Taeyong: i’m fine

[12:15] Ten: [link]

The morning after Winter Ball—

It’s an unspoken tradition for everyone to skip out on class the Monday after a dance, but Taeyong doesn’t realize his mistake until he walks into his first period class and the classroom is missing both the teacher and most of the students. Strangely enough, though, Ten is there, sitting slouched in the teacher’s chair at the front of the room and regarding the green apple resting on the desk with contempt. He nods in greeting, but doesn’t look up from the fruit. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to come to class today?”

“What about you?” he counters, clambering onto the nearest desk and discarding his backpack onto the seat. “Could’ve gone to the movies or slept in late.”

“AP Dance,” Ten says shortly, poking the apple distastefully. Then he leans back, resting both feet atop the desk and ignoring the papers that go scattering when he does so. “Mr. Richards went to go print some papers at the library.”

Then the door clicks, and creaks open. Taeyong turns to look, and behind him, he hears a squeak, clatter, and bang, along with a loud “oh, fuck!” as the teacher peeks his head through the door, eyes glistening with amusement behind his thin rectangular glasses. “He-llo?~”

“Good morning, Mr. Richards,” Taeyong says dutifully, glancing over his shoulder. Ten is gathering himself off of the floor along with the papers he’d dropped earlier.

“Good morning, boys,” the teacher says breezily, dropping a foot-tall stack of papers on his desk. Head tilted slightly, he smiles down at Ten like the boy hasn’t just been caught in his seat. “Hmm. Ten. That chair can be rather uncomfortable. Is that why you’ve fallen?”

Mutely, Ten picks up the chair and places it back in its original position.

“Oh, how kind of you.” Mr. Richards adjusts his tie, tilts his head again, and claps his hands

together. “Do you two have anything to do for this class period? Homework, maybe?”

“Nope.” Ten takes the seat next to Taeyong and slouches down as low as humanly possible.

“No?” Mr. Richards glances at the apple on his desk, ever so slightly out of place, and rotates it until it’s just right. “Mr. Lee, how about you?”

“Not really,” Taeyong replies, though he knows exactly where the teacher is going with this.

“Then you won’t mind helping me put these notes together for next class, when everyone is back from, ah… being sick.” He claps again, then slides a stapler towards Ten. “Thank you~”

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Mr. Richards lets out a little gasp. “That’ll be my favorite student with the rest of the papers~ Can one of you get the door, please?”

Ten groans. “There are more?”

“I’ll get it,” Taeyong volunteers, sliding out of his seat and tugging the door open. For a moment, the glare of the silver morning gloom makes him blink. And then his eyes refocus, and he looks right into the very same pair of eyes that had transfixed him the night before.

The girl looks almost offended by his attention, mouth set in a hard line as she stares up at him with a thick stack of papers threatening to teeter out of her arms. When he doesn’t budge, she nods jerkily at the door, expression shifting into mild annoyance. “Excuse me.”

“Oh. Ah. My bad.” He steps aside to let her in, and wonders why his cheeks heat when she sits on top of the desk beside his.

A smirk crosses Ten’s face as he looks between the two of them and connects the dots. “Hey, good morning.”

“Didn’t think you’d be here today, Ten. Hello to you too.” She drops the papers on his desk with a chuckle. Then she turns to the teacher. “Hello, Mr. Richards,” she says, waggling her fingers in greeting. “I heard I’m your favorite student?”

“Oh, it was just a joke. I think you need to submit your homework on time in order to be my favorite student.” Mr. Richards titters.

She laughs softly— then regards Taeyong with a curious look. Only then does he realize he’s been staring. She doesn’t address him, though, instead looks questioningly at Ten, who meets her gaze with a grin. He opens his mouth to speak, but Taeyong kicks him under the desk before he can.

And as his friend winces from the blow, he seizes his chance.

“Uh— it’s good to see you again,” he starts. “I had—um… it was fun last night.”

Ten cringes so hard that he bangs his knee against the bottom of the desk. With a yowl, he drops his stapler and cradles his leg.

The girl contemplates Taeyong, tilting her head as she studies his features, gaze running along the lines of his jaw up to his temples. And when she finally looks into his eyes, hers light up.

“Ah,” she hums, and there’s a world of understanding in that one sound that he doesn’t share. “You.”

He nods, fighting the urge to gulp. Even though her voice is soft, and she sits at ease atop her throne, he feels oddly small before the intensity of her gaze.

She watches him as he shifts his weight in his seat, then gestures at his arm. “Do you mind if I finish that?”

“Finish— what?”

She raises a brow and points at the almost-gone but faintly-still-there flower blooming on his wrist. Gingerly, he offers it to her, and she gives a tiny nod of approval, pulling a marker from her pocket. When her fingers meet his skin, the warmth spreads from his cheeks and echoes into his chest, and he shivers. He hadn’t even realized he was cold in the first place.

She traces the lines of his wrist, following the thin strands of blood vessels with the point of her marker, gripping his arm tight to keep him from moving.

“I’m sorry.” She says this so softly that he has to lean in closer to hear her better, her breath grazing his ear when she adds, “I never asked you for your name.”

“It’s Taeyong.” He holds back a laugh as her fingers scratch across his wrist and tickle him. “I didn’t ask for yours, either, so I’m just as bad.”

After a moment or two, she sits back, chewing on the cap of the marker thoughtfully. “Done.”

He looks down at his arm. Where there had only been the faintest outline of a little flower, there is now a bouquet of hibiscus blooming across the back of his hand, stems spiraling down his arm up until where his veins vanish, at which point they curl into little swirls.

Feeling the weight of her gaze on him once more, he looks up. Their eyes meet, and as if she’s dismissing some untoward thought, she shakes her head. Then she leans forward, and he feels his heart halt and stutter at her smile. It is easy, unlike everything else about her, and gentle. It perplexes him.

“Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I’m y/n.”

From here on out I will refer to the reader as ‘you’. I intended to keep it as ‘the girl’ and ‘she’ in flashbacks until the point at which they met properly, and this is it. Welcome to the true beginning.

a/n 2.0: what did you think of this chapter? it’s been in the works for so long that i don’t even know what to think about it tbh, so any feedback would be great, thank you for reading! ♥

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hms-chill · 5 years ago

Text

RWRB Study Guide: Chapter 10

Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!

Earl Grey (267): Earl Grey tea is an incredibly common caffeinated tea. It is the base of a London fog.

Hamilton to Laurens, “you should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent” (267): This quote is from an April 1779 letter and is immediately followed by “But, as you have done it, and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on one condition; that for my sake, of not your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me”. Essentially, “you were rude to me, but I love you so much I forgive you as long as you look after yourself”. Just before it, Hamilton’s like “you taught me what it means to love”. (You can find it here)

Pyramus and Thisbe (268): The pair of lovers whose story inspired Romeo and Juliet, they were separated and could only talk through a wall between their houses (I’ve written a very in-depth analysis of this myth, which you can find here).

Dulles International to Heathrow (268): Dulles International is the airport in Washington, DC, and Heathrow is the classy airport in London.

John Cusack (270): An American actor largely known for his roles in the 1980s. This line in particular likely references Say Anything..., a romantic comedy known in part for a scene where Cusack’s character stands outside a girl’s window and plays music from a boombox.

Y’all had to marry your cousins (270): A reference to the royal tradition of only marrying other royals, which led to a whole lot of inbreeding.

Consummation (275): To consummate a marriage is to have sex for the first time, therefore making it “official”.

Wilde’s complete works (276): Oscar Wilde is an Irish author famous for writing satires and also defining gay culture in the late 1800s.

Fit of pique (277): If someone does something in a fit of pique, they do it spontaneously and out of anger at being wronged.

Mr. Darcy brooding at Pemberley (278): In Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (spoilers, though it’s been out for 207 years), after Elizabeth rejects Darcy’s first marriage proposal (which is essentially “your family sucks but you’re hot; marry me”), he goes back to the house his family owns and thinks about it and misses her.

Anmer Hall (278): A house owned by the Crown in Norfolk, England; it is currently home to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge.

Mel and Sue (280): A comedy duo and hosts of The Great British Bake Off. Sue was outed in 2002, but claims that “being a lesbian is only about the 47th most interesting thing about me”.

South Kensington (284): A district of West London known for its high density of museums and cultural landmarks.

Prince Consort Road (284): Prince Consort Road is a street in London named after Prince Albert, consort to Queen Victoria. A consort is a royal’s spouse or partner (hence Alex laughing at the idea of his being a prince’s consort)

Ferris Bueller/ Sloane (284-285): Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is a popular movie from the 1980s about Ferris, who skips school for a day of wild shenanigans in Chicago. Sloane is his girlfriend who’s roped in for the ride.

Victoria and Albert Museum* (285): The Victoria and Albert Museum, often abbreviated “V&A”, is the world’s largest museum of applied and decorative art and design. (you can explore their collections here)

Renaissance City (285): Room 50a of the V&A is full of Renaissance sculptures. (photo here)

Seated Buddha in black stone (285): The V&A has a bunch of Buddha sculptures, but this one is the only one I saw that’s in black stone.

John the Baptist nude and in bronze (285): Possibly this piece from 1881 by French sculptor Auguste Rodin and is in the V&A’s collection.

Tipu’s Tiger (285): A nearly life-sized semi-automaton that shows a tiger mauling a man in European clothes. The tiger makes growling sounds and the man screams and waves his hand when a handle on the side is turned; it also contains a small pipe organ on the inside and was created to show the power that the Tipu Sultan of India held over invading Brits. The “give it back” that Catherine argues for is officially called repatriation, it would mean that (Western) museums have to give back stolen objects; British museums are famously bad at doing this. (see Tipu’s Tiger here)

Westminster (286): Westminster Abbey, a church in London where royals are crowned and buried. It is covered with intricate carvings and beautiful stained glass.

The Great Bed of Ware (286): A bed made by Hans Vredeman de Vries from the 1590s; it is ten feet wide and made of oak. (see it here)

Twelfth Night (286): A Shakespeare comedy full of chaos that includes a woman cross-dressing, then her twin brother being mistaken for her.

Epocoene (286): A 1609 play that includes a boy dressing as a woman to dupe a man into giving his son an acceptable inheritance.

Don Juan (286): A Spanish figure known for his powers for wooing women; the first text published about him was in the 1630s.

Florence (287): Florence is a city known for its art; it was the cultural center of the Italian renaissance.

Gothic choir screen in the V&A’s Renaissance City (287): This Roodloft, or choir screen, carved by Coenraed van Norenberch is in the back of the Renaissance City in the V&A. It’s a stunning piece; the link above has great pictures and a more in-depth description than I could give.

Zephyr statue by Francavilla (287): You can see this statue here; it was one of thirteen statues commissioned for the garden of a villa near Florence. According to Greek mythology, Zephyr (the west wind) was married to Chloris, goddess of flowers.

Narcissus (by Cioli) (287): This statue may have once been the centerpiece to a fountain with Narcissus looking into an actual pool; it depicts him in the moment he sees and is mesmerised by his reflection.

Pluto stealing Proserpina (287): Likely the statue “The Rape of Proserpina” by Vincenzo de' Rossi. I couldn’t find it on the V&A’s site, but there’s more info here.

Jason with the Golden Fleece (287): This is a sculpture of a very naked Jason, the Greek hero who stole the golden fleece. He was helped by its owner’s daughter, who was in love with him, but whom he later abandoned. You can see the statue here.

Samson Slaying a Philistine (287): You can see this statue here. Henry does a pretty good job of explaining the incredible history behind it; all I have to add from my (limited) research is that it is remarkable in part for the fact that there is no one point on it that draws the eye-- it demands to be looked at completely or not at all.

Victoria and sodomy laws (288): Queen Victoria famously instituted a whole lot of anti-sodomy laws.

Viau on James/George (288): A 1623 poem by Théophile de Viau:

“Apollo with his songs

Debauched young Hyacinthus

Just as Corydon fucked Amyntas,

So Caesar did not spurn boys.

One man fucks Monsieur le Grand de Bellegarde [a friend of Viau],

Another fucks the Comte de Tonnerre.

And it is well known that the King of England

Fucks the Duke of Buckingham.”

“Christ had John, and I have George” (288): This is an actual thing that James I/VI said to the heads of the church. Here’s the full quote, from wikipedia (emphasis is my own): “I, James, am neither a god nor an angel, but a man like any other. Therefore I act like a man and confess to loving those dear to me more than other men. You may be sure that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else, and more than you who are here, assembled. I wish to speak in my own behalf and not to have it thought to be a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had John, and I have George.”

George iii (289): George III was the king against whom the American colonies revolted. He was deeply religious and instituted laws declaring that royals could not marry without the approval of the court.

Convent church of Santa Chiara in Florence (290): This church is no longer a church, but the altar chapel is in an alcove in the V&A. It is the only Italian Renaissance chapel outside of Italy. (you can see photos of it here and here)

Santa Chiara and Saint Francis of Assisi (290): Saint Francis of Assisi founded a few different monastic orders and is one of the most celebrated saints; Saint Clare of Assisi founded a women’s monastic order and wrote the first set of monastic guidelines by a woman.

Blessed Mother (290): Mary, the mother of Jesus, one of the holiest figures in Catholicism.

“Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es Buena, and the honeycomb sweet to thy taste”** (290): “My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honeycomb, which is sweet to thy taste. So shall the knowledge of wisdom be unto thy soul: when thou hast found it, then there shall be a reward, and thy expectation shall not be cut off” -- Proverbs 24:13-14, King James Version (yes, that King James. He translated the Bible to make the church stop hating him).

David and Jonathan (290): An aggressively gay couple from the Bible who have been presented as friends for centuries. Jonathan was a prince and David a shepherd, but God promised that David would be king one day. Rather than argue this or hate David for it, Jonathan welcomed David into his household and loved him despite the prophecy that he would one day usurp him. Following Jonathan’s death, David took in Jonathan’s son and looked after him.

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen (291): Many Christian prayers end with “in the name of the Father, the son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen”. It’s a way of celebrating the god who gives you all of the good things in your life while also giving up control to them.

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A fill in from chapter 1, as requested by someone on AO3:

Deputy Chief of Staff (Zahra’s position, 23): The Deputy Chief of Staff is the top aide to the president’s top aide, and is responsible for ensuring that everything runs smoothly within the bureaucracy of the White House.

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*This museum puts out books called “maker’s guides” that teach you how to make pieces based on things in their collections; they’re super duper cool.

**I’m not a theologian, but I am a pastor’s kid, and just... this gets me. This whole bit, but this Proverb especially. Like obviously there’s the “oh we’re kissing and I’m thinking about honey tasting sweet”, but verse 14 coming in with the “when you’ve found what’s right, you will be rewarded with the confidence of that rightness and you will have hope”? Just kill me outright next time. Don’t make me google my own murder weapon.

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If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it!

—–-

Chapter 1 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 11

#this is for that anon who thinks I'm smart and cute #but y'all can read it too #rwrb study guide #rwrb analysis #English Major Brain™#English Major Brain™️#rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #june claremont diaz #nora holleran #pez okonjo #bea fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #red white and royal blue

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pengychan · 5 years ago

Text

[Coco] Holy Fuck - Fake Priest AU

Title: Holy Fuck Summary: The missing sex scene between chapter 14 and 15 of Nuestra Iglesia, which no one asked for but @senoraluna and I wrote anyway. Characters: Ernesto de la Cruz, OC. Rating: Explicit.

A/N: We got nothing to say in our defense. Check this out on Ao3 to see @senoraluna’s art!

***

This was happening. He was here.

Father John Johnson had to reiterate it in his mind, lest his own frenzied thoughts convinced him that Father Ernest in his room at nearly midnight was only another dream. He didn’t wish to question it again, allow any voice of doubt or any testing of wills, or he would lose his nerve entirely. Besides, from the strange - oddly amused, he would dare say - smile Father Ernest wore, it didn’t seem the man had come to any sort of realization that he should not violate his vows this way. The burden laid on him alone to either back out of the experiment or proceed. Someone was going to have to speak - he was going to have to speak because it dawned on him he was practically holding his breath.

“I meditated the most efficient means to preserve as much of our modesty and dignity possible during this… sin,” he muttered. “If you simply turn about, kneel on the bed, lift your clothing, we should hopefully conclude within a brief few minutes and escape with… as much… discretion we can during something so unclean.”

Now when he had rehearsed this plan in his head, and then aloud to the wall, it had seemed so very logical and precise. However the look Father Ernest was giving him suggested he had spoken in English or said something just physically impossible.

Had he gotten it wrong? Truth be told his intimate details of sodomy came from limited sources; quickly passed sights in busy city allyways, piecing a visual picture of confessional details, and some faded, black and white prints of old vulgar vases in history books of the pagan Greeks.

Unaware of his thoughts, Ernesto kept staring for several moments. Oh Jesus Christ he really thought Ernesto was going to let him top, didn’t he? If not entirely taken aback by the nerve of his, Ernesto might have laughed. The situation as a whole was slightly surreal, truth be told - there he was, about to fuck the insufferable white priest - but that absolutely took the cake.

A few brief minutes, he said. Well, of course it would be a very short matter if he let the gringo lead; then he would be done and Ernesto would not. That idiota failed to grasp was that he hadn’t bothered to get there for a few short minutes.

Well, no trouble. He was about to let that be known.

“If you think I’m letting you anywhere near my ass while you don’t have the first clue of what you’re doing, you’re very much mistaken,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I’m the one with prior experience here. So, you kneel on the bed.”

Fine, maybe that wasn't the most charming he'd ever been, but Padre Juan had a way to get under his skin. Figuratively. Whether he would ever allow that to happen in a literal sense, it remained to be seen.

“And allow you to-?” Juan’s face burned an even deeper shade than Ernesto had ever seen. “Oh no, no , I have read the, er- you know- the… texts on sodomy and it is the more mature man, the elder, the wiser , who is meant to lead t e act. ” He underlined each point with a gesture of the hand holding the candle, and gestured at the cot behind him. Lengthy statements when it was obvious he could hardly be much older. “And do watch your language there’s no reason for us to be crude about this. Besides I had gathered you hardly know much more than I!”

All right, fine, Ernesto thought. Fuck him, and not in the way he'd been intending to.

"Well. Since you're so old and wise, then you can certainly sort this out on your own," he said, and turned to the door. Amazing, how quickly he’d manage to piss him off. Almost a new record.

John watched him take a few steps, holding his breath. There it was, an out. Every chance to let this end without his own courage failing him. But then- how would he ever know? How could he fix this miserable state so he was no longer going around, maddened with repugnant fantasies distracting him from duties, like some deranged pagan?

He’d been a proper priest for six years now, and never in all his time had he found leading a mass so distracting, or prayer so hypocritical when his mind was stuffed with thoughts about his fellow Father. How much longer until it became so unbearable the church learned he was slipping and cast him out?

“Wait,” he mustered. “I wasn’t… seeking to offend you I do recognize you are…” And all he tried to hide reared itself forward in the volume his voice fell. “Doing me a great favor.” Another swallow, a gulp of his pride. “I am extremely out of my depth here and- and incredibly nervous.”

Ernesto paused, and turned slowly. He could see it plain as day now, the fear on Padre Juan's face, born of desperate hope and great terror of the pits of Hell. Was that bullshit about being his elder and more experienced an attempt at hiding all that? Of course it was. He could see that now.

Had he been more self-aware, Ernesto might have thought he knew something about hiding fear and doubts behind a thick layer of bluster and forced confidence - but he wasn't self-aware enough, and he did not think of that. What he did think was that, for the entire thing to go anywhere, Juan really needed to relax. He would probably be tight as a coiled spring otherwise, making sex pretty difficult for both.

Ernesto had no desire to make that night… anything at all like the nights in the barracks. So he drew in a long breath, and turned fully to face him. "Then let me lead. I know what I'm doing."

For the first time, the unrelenting pair seemed to reach a decision where one surrendered without a migraine-inducing battle. John’s white flag came in a forced heavy exhale.

“...So be it. How do you believe we should… go on then?” For such a self-assured leader of sermons, stumbling over words like this was so forgein and humiliating.

And ah, what a chance that was for Ernesto - shoving him in the role of pupil for once, with him as the teacher of far more enjoyable lessons than the proper way to hold hosts during the Holy Communion. He held back a smile that would have been more of a grin, and nodded. Time to take charge. "Put the candle on the nightstand."

“The candle, of course, I wouldn’t dream of shaming us-” John startled, and swiftly blew it out.

Ah. That was… not what he had in mind. "... Juan." Ernesto's voice rang out through near-complete darkness. "I can't see a thing ."

“Oh good, good. I worried the moonlight would be too bright--”

"I told you to put it down, not to blow it out. Do you have any matches?" Ernesto spoke slowly, chasing away the mental image of his hand hitting the back of Juan's head, repeatedly. It was tempting, but hard to achieve while unable to see anything.

“Ah, Ernest ,” The gringo had the audacity to punctuate his ‘correct’ form of names in response to his own being said in Spanish. “You’re not… proposing we look upon each other’s bare forms in the light?”

"You can shut your eyes. I need to be able to see what I'm doing," Ernesto muttered. Truth be told he would probably be able to get things done in the dark with some patience, but with that last remark on his name good old Juan had used up all his extra rations of patience for the night.

“Ab- absolutely not!” the usually authoritative retort came out like a choke on bad wine. “We must be able to look upon each other in the future following this night with...with purity and without desire and if we see each other then…” he only realized the hole he was digging himself into once he’d said too much.

Listen to him going, Ernesto thought, like he wasn’t struggling to even look at him as things were already. He smiled. "Ah, but is this not meant to test you?" Ernesto asked, sounding just a little smug. He stepped closer, blindly. Now that, Juan could not argue.

“Test me, sí, but not ruin the purity of our relationship.”

“ ‘To the pure all things are pure’. ” Ernesto couldn’t remember the rest of the verse, he only recalled that one because he’d read it over in mass a week ago. He couldn’t remember how it was in Latin either, but he didn’t need to: a simple test of who was more moral was all he needed to win. He took a step forward, now less than an inch away from Juan. Now either he’d admit to being less pure than him, or he’d go grab the matchbox.

“I’ll...I’ll grab the matchbox,” the gringo relented, or perhaps searched for an excuse to scutter away. Even in the darkness, one could feel the body heat.

Ah, Ernesto thought, finally talking sense. He stood there in the dark and, as he waited, loosened his collar and began to unbutton the cassock. By the time a match was struck, casting a tremulous light in the room, his chest was bared. The air was a little chilly, but no matter; he’d get a chance to warm up soon enough.

John nearly tripped over his own bare feet when he turned about to the sight. “Oh you’re- uh- why are you… undressing?” he struggled to keep a neutral tone as he his eyes darted around the room like an incensed man, to gaze upon anything but the bare, brown, and clearly… robust body.

Ernesto shrugged, keeping his tone casual. "What we plan on doing can hardly be achieved with clothes on - and certainly you do not want me to defile the holy cloth by wearing it during the act, do you?" he added, and pushed it off his shoulders. "I was rather surprised you suggested as much earlier."

Realization hit John like a slap. “Sí! We musn’t defile-- right -- I hadn’t expected you to show up wearing--” he stammered, struggling to not let the novice priest realize he had just remembered protocol better than himself. Not that there was precisely a protocol for… that kind of situation. It was simply not meant to happen.

But oh God, John was so desperate.

“I’ll just-- give you your privacy, but... I will leave on my shift, it is... not a holy garment.” Then he closed his eyes, as if that would make Ernest’s nudity non-existent. It however didn’t counter the terrible part of himself that, especially below the waist, was painfully eager to see it.

"Well then, do as you said earlier. Kneel on the bed, and worry of nothing." The smile was audible in Ernesto’s tone. It was like magic. Without a protest, a haughty look, a fuss, or even disapproving frown, Juan complied doing just that. And all this time he’d just needed to be naked. Well, that was… good to know. An effective way to shut him up, if not one he could use in public.

Ernesto reached in a pocket to take a small bottle of anointing oil before discarding his cassock entirely, stepping closer to the bed. It was… almost alluring, seeing Juan like that: on his hands and knees, head bowed, waiting. Of course, that shift was in the way - but it was hardly a problem.

Sitting behind him, Ernesto placed a hand over his ass through the thin fabric, giving it a firm squeeze.

“What in all creation!”

The words jumped from John’s mouth so quickly it sounded like one. In an instant he recognized it was English, and cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. “Lo siento, I wasn’t expecting-- you’ll have to warn me.”

When was the last time he had been touched anywhere forbidden? Boyhood surely, back in a time of innocence. Baths by the maids - and even in childhood he and the other boys knew better than to behave so vulgarly. And since he was cast out, he could only recall the rare hug initiated from the weeping women he comforted in his parish in America. No Mexican had been so grateful yet. Ironic, considering their habit of over-touching one another.

Ernesto blinked, taken aback by the outburst, then chuckled. No man he'd been with had reacted like that to a simple touch, let alone in the army. It probably would have had the same effect regardless of who touched him, but Ernesto still found it… quite flattering. "Ah, my apologies. I will be careful." He placed his hand back on the gringo's rear, but didn't squeeze again. "I will pull up the shift now. All right?"

Oh God, getting warnings was only going to make it worse, wasn’t it? Just hearing him say it made John’s pulse quicken to a degree he could nearly hear it in his own ears. A fine layer of sweat coated his palms, making the coarse, nun-knit blanket beneath him damp.

“Of course, of course, anything you deem necessary to get it over with. On second thought you needn’t… tell me everything.”

Ernesto raised an eyebrow, and slowly pulled up the shift, exposing his rear. Somehow, it was… even whiter than the rest of him; he supposed it had likely never never been touched by the sun. He ran a hand over it and ah, it was soft . Even the hair was fine and blonde, reminding him of a baby chick - decidedly not a very seductive thing to point out, so he decided not to.

The gringo kept quiet, probably with every ounce of willpower, but then there was a strange humming sound. Almost like music, except that Padre Juan truly disliked secular music. "No?"

“No, or I will.. lose my nerve.”

"Very well," Ernesto said, hand still on his ass. He stroked his thumb over it, and licked his lips. Ah, Padre Juan was far from a beauty, but the sight made his breath quicken all the same, his cock beginning to stir. It had been a while since he’d last had a man. Dribbling some of the anointing oil in his hand, he slid his hand between his thighs, brushing it against his testicles. "Spread your legs a little."

“Why is your hand… wet?” John forced out the words like he was speaking against a gag. Which he nearly was, the amount his embarrassment was making every part of his body tense and lock, along with his subconscious attempt to bury his face in his hanging nightgown.

A hand was on his genitals.

A hand that was not his. Dear God in Heaven.

“Oil. To make it easier,” Ernesto said, choosing to omit the fact it was anointing oil, not something he’d just grabbed from the kitchen. Still, something about the tenseness of Juan’s back made him pause. He fell silent for a few moments and, for the first time, he hesitated.

“... It’s not bound to work. We can stop.”

“You…” A note of surprise entered Juan’s voice. A few seconds passed, then a firmer press to his words slipped in his voice. “... I have to try. Even if you believe a remote possibility, I need a solution. I’m...desperate,” he admitted.

It was a possibility, Ernesto supposed; back in the barracks, many men had wanted nothing more to do with the-- arrangement many of them had, after the first try. Ernesto didn’t precisely plan on leaving Padre Juan bleeding - he made it tempting but not like that, something in him balked at the prospect - but perhaps, once he did try, he would find he no longer desired it. That would be a bit of a blow to Ernesto’s pride, but he could handle that. Probably.

“... All right.” He pushed his thighs apart, just a little. And after all, if it kept the gringo here, whether he enjoyed it or not-- there would be no harm done right? He was clearly the type of man who could do with a release of pent-up tension.

John resisted asking what the point of his actions were. Why a hand was rubbing oil, why his legs had to be parted to such a vulgar, showy position, and oh there was his answer. One of the fingers was there-- that untouchable, horrid little hole, that acted like a trigger making John’s head snap up.

“Ah-- must you touch-- that’s rather unsanitary, do you have to soil your hand with… with...” his mind spun so quickly he could barely keep his words in order.

“Just getting you ready.” Ernesto’s voice came out a little huskier than usual. “I know what I’m doing.” The other hand, the one without oil on it, came up to rub the small of his back, trying to soothe him. He was wound up like the spring of a clock, of course, just like expected.

Apparently there were more steps to this than ‘bend over and be done with it’ as John had bargained. So the man braced himself, closed his eyes and attempted to think of something else. God? No, too much guilt. Texas? Too sorrowful. Nature? God’s wonders- whoops, back to God again. Cigarettes. There, that was something to focus on. He could smoke as soon as this was over and calm down.

But the moment he began to allow his body even a little distraction, something worse crept in. Something even more forgein than the impure touches. It started as a tingle, like the faintest tremble of the smallest harp string, a pleasant noise so soft it could be easily overlooked unless you were holding the instrument and felt the reverberations through it. Something was being triggered from the finger circling his hole, and it was strange enough to distract him until he felt Ernesto’s finger begin to press against it. His mind stilled. There was guilt, there was horror, there was terror, there was unholy desire for more. “Is that-- are you-- are we doing the deed?”

“Getting you ready.” That reassuring tone again, the hand still rubbing the small of his back - then the oiled finger pressed in a bit more, just enough to breach.

“You mean-- your finger...?” he choked out. It was important to remember he was a virgin, or Ernesto would be so royally offended. Honestly, only a virgin could mistake a finger for his cock. He was much thicker than that, thank you so very much.

“Sí. Don’t worry.”

“Easier said than done, there’s something in -” No no, John mustn't allow himself to go into details or he may very well faint from the shock of all this. Instead he lifted one shaky arm to clutch the dangling gold cross around his neck. “C-carry on. I should like to hurry this along.”

You really shouldn’t, Ernesto thought, unless you really want to explain to doctor Sanchéz how come you showed at his door with a torn-up asshole.

But saying any of that aloud would have probably made Padre Juan faint, so he bit his tongue and pushed in deeper instead - slowly, because damn was he tight. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought that he could lose a finger if he just clenched. His other hand kept rubbing the small of his back, trying to get him to loosen up.

“Hmmmph...,” Another humming, muffled, noise from John, his face reddening as he found himself sink further to his elbows when a sudden ripple ran up his body from something odd the finger had stroked. The string of a harp again - but someone had just taken their whole damn hand and twanged a large string roughly making the entire instrument shake. He didn’t dare speak, it chanced a weird sound leaping out, or even worse acknowledging that whatever was happening right now was not, as expected, hoped and planned, miserably painful.

Quite the contrary, it sent shivers of pleasure up his spine - something that was not at all lost to Ernesto, because the gringo was… definitely not as good an actor as himself. There was no way he was simply clenching his ass around the finger for a show.

“Surely it is ready,” Juan suddenly exclaimed, the words forced out from clenched teeth.

Ernesto frowned, more than slightly offended. His cock may be on the shorter side, all right, but it was thick, had the idiota not noticed that?

“I know what I’m doing,” he muttered, and hooked his finger, pressing down on a spot that, if he was not mistaken-- ah, yes, now that moan was music to his ears. The next moment there was a muffled wince, the gringo biting something to stifle the possibility of another one. Of course. He’d gathered that Americans hate kissing, making noise, and this was all that rolled into a convenience package.

John had never experienced anything like it, and from the strange jolt it sent to his own member, it was undeniably a sinful experience. It no longer hung anxiously between his legs but twitched upward, straight, a state he had awoken in horror many mornings to find it in - and thus then prayed away.

Good God, he could not pray now.

“Is- isn’t ready?” Even his voice had changed, lowering to a strange, husky, tone he’d never heard from himself before.

"You need to try and relax," Ernesto said, and suddenly shifted - from sitting behind him to kneeling, and reached between his thighs with his free hand, palming at his cock. To no surprise whatsoever, he found him hard. "You're being more impatient than I expected."

“I, I just- just want to be cured is all, t-that is my impatience and lack of virtue-” The combined hands were making John’s words slur. Even from the light brushes he could feel warmth, a callous texture - all these things seeming to hit several strings at once making whatever was happening in him even louder. “Por favor, I-- I just want to get on with it-- you needn’t-- needn’t caress me like this.”

Ah, right. Ernesto pulled back his hand, and hesitated a moment before sliding the finger out, nearly all the way, then back in - and once sure there was no pain, he pulled back some to press in another finger.

"You know, that's-- normal. As in, to be expected. You being hard." Who wouldn't want me? "I- have the same, uh, issue,” he added. Because damn he was hard, cock throbbing each time he allowed himself to pause and really look at the man before him, on his hands and knees, shift bunched up around his waist. He was no beauty but ah, he was soft - pudgy, more accurately - and smelled good, and he couldn't remember the last time a man had been so turned on by his touch alone.

“I understand basic human anatomy, and the sexual response in human beings.”

It was delightfully vindicating that Juan’s attempt at a sharp, snobbish remark came out in what sounded like a drunken man’s slur, barely stitching each word together. “If you have the- the correct issue then do what you must with your member.”

Ah, he certainly had a way to make this fun didn’t he? Ernesto might have rolled his eyes, if not for the fact he was so amusing to hear. He pushed in the entire second finger, slowly, and shifted to lean across his back, reaching around him to run a hand across his chest. His cock brushed against Juan's thigh, hot and hard, tip already wet enough to smear pre-come across his ridiculously white skin. He could feel the scars on his back too, rougher than the rest on him, against his chest.

"Soon," he murmured against his ear.

“Why the delay?” John mustered. That was it wasn’t it? The hot flesh against his leg. He couldn’t discern which emotion started a quiver in his thighs at the realization. “I am not afraid of pain, I welcome it, it will cure me.”

"And get you on the position of having to explain the médico how come you have a torn asshole." Ernesto's voice was a little dry now. "I told you, I know what I'm doing." He scissored his fingers briefly, nuzzling the nape of his neck. Up close he smelled ever nicer, enough to forget how annoying he was, of incense and old wood and anointing oils. The only out of place smell was of faint tobacco too, which he could only assume came from a parishioner. It was… a world away from everything the barracks had been.

And it seemed the scissoring quelled any further protest from John. His shoulder blades rose as his back curled higher, his body struggling to react to whatever new feeling was being rushed through up his spine in high violent waves now. Without much realization he sank further into the bed-gripping the pillow to bite and hide his feverish, heated, face. Against his palm, the crucifix nearly punctured the skin from his grip.

“I can’t-- por favor I can’t handle that, can-- can we get on with it?” It was an agonized groan a more experienced man would recognize as his own need for relief. In John’s case, it was his hope to replace this building sensation with something more muted.

It wasn't every day someone begged Ernesto to fuck him. As in, it had happened, but not as often as he felt it ought to have. All right, maybe it wasn't precisely the fuck he was begging for, but he could twist the truth a bit. The gringo wanted him to get on with it, and get on with it he would. So he lifted himself, pulled out his fingers, dribbled more oil on his erection, and gripped his hips.

For the second, and surely not the last time that night, John was heavily humbled. The instant he could feel Ernest’s member pressed against his body, well, he felt quite foolish for having assumed his finger before was it. It felt terribly large, like its girth would tear him apart, and to his dismay his attentive member seemed to hop in delight at the prospect despite his more logical fears. Disgusting he thought of himself, trying his best to think on a prayer for this situation but Latin was so muddled in his mind at the moment.

It took every ounce of Ernesto's willpower not to just shove himself in. He could have-- he asked for it-- but at the same time, he worried he might cause tearing that might require medical attention. That would be inconvenient, and besides… besides, he didn't want that. No such care was taken on the barracks, either, and Ernesto didn't wish this to feel anything like it did those nights, much like he never wanted to return there.

So, when he began prodding the entrance, he did so very, very slowly.

“D-deus meus, ex toto corde paenitet--” The whisper was a soft hissing sound from between Juan’s clenched teeth. Well people had called out to God before in bed with Ernesto but this was… new. Ernesto bit back a retort - “you can call me Ernesto” - before he gripped his hips a little tighter.

Christ, everything about that man was smooth and soft, and it was warm, and the temptation to sink in and take his pleasure was hard to resist. He honestly couldn’t recall this much time ever passing between getting in someone’s bed and actually getting his cock in. Yet, despite being painfully hard, he forced himself to go slowly. A long breath and slow, careful push - letting only the very tip slip inside. He tilted his hips in circular movements, to ease it in.

The Latin trailed off to soft wincing breaths. The discomfort was there now, just as John had wished for. He could ignore how his member still twitched with some unanswered want, so long as he focused on the tension in his rear - the stretching that felt impossible to accommodate, oh God what was happening. That is, until Ernesto’s slow movements seemed to give way to a pop of pressure, something settling inside forcing John’s head up with a sharp gasp.

“Is that-- have we… we done it?” Because there, I’m not enjoying it, experiment over, I’m cured.

Ernesto stilled, still gripping his hips, breathing fast. The air felt scorching hot, his skin covered in sweat. Only the head was in, and the pressure, squeezing , was almost too much. Christ he was tight. Tight enough to make him worry that maybe it would be too much-- he wasn’t ready-- he’d rip something, there would be blood, and he didn’t want there to be blood.

“Just got started, Juan.”

“You’re… you sound as though you’ve run a mile.” Now he was far too exasperated to snap ‘it’s John’, but in just enough of a state to recognize that. And recognize that seemed to be something his rebellious sex enjoyed.

Because you’re being such a damn tease would probably not be the correct answer to give, especially as Juan clearly did not mean to be one and likely would need to be explained what Ernesto meant by that, which might result in a heart attack he’d very much rather avoid. However convenient Juan’s sudden and entirely natural death would be to him, at the moment he’d try to keep himself safe without having to kill anybody else. Even the passing thought brought forth invasive images.

The memory of Alberto’s death - the unprotected back of his head, the gunshot and the spray of blood, the thump as the body fell on the sand beneath the beating sun and the terrified noise his horse had made - made it back in his mind for a brief moment, but Ernesto did his best to chase it away.

And there was no better distraction, he’d learned, than what he was currently in the process of doing. So he licked his lips and pulled back before he leaned in, tilting his hips, carefully pushing back in and then deeper, just another fraction.

“How… how much further?” Of course Juan would be this demanding in bed even without knowing what was even happening. Ernesto rolled his eyes.

“What, are you that eager?”

“I should like to cured, sí, I waited years for this.” Wait that came out wrong. “A cure, I mean, not-- I, ah-- just-- go on then.” Snapping back was difficult when his own breath felt like he was paying for it by the second.

Ah, Ernesto thought, fuck this guy. Literally - still giving him orders, even like this. Very well, he could follow orders; he’d been trained to do just that, after all, in the army. He wanted to be fucked, and so he would be.

Ernesto scowled and almost, almost shoved in. But… ah, this was still so different, no matter how infuriating the gringo still managed to get even with his face into the pillow and legs spread for him. He was softer - this was softer - and Ernesto found he couldn’t manage to be deliberately harsh. He paused a moment, pulled back, and then he did push back in… but slowly, to avoid tearing.

“Aren’t-- aren’t you moving terribly slow?” John muttered, oblivious of the great favor he was doing him.

Oh, for fuck’s sake . “Do you really want to explain doctor Sanchéz how come your asshole is torn and infection is setting in?” The noise of alarm Juan made almost compensated for how annoying he was being.

“I… no. I didn’t consider… c-carry on,” he managed.

Ah, he finally got it, the second or third time he said it. And it looked like he could no longer bring himself to lecture him about cursing, which was a nice plus. Now that was… better, Ernesto supposed. He dared push a little further, rotating his hips - listening closely for any sound of discomfort or pain. Because really, if he did make him bleed, then Juan may not be the only one to find himself having to answer uncomfortable questions.

Truth be told John was so used to treating any sort of pain or blood as a symptom of serving God in the best and most selfless way, he wouldn’t have recognized the issue initially. It was so personal - all his feelings were - Ernest would be the last to know, last he’d tell, if any of this affair caused him terrible pain, even if their bodies were conjoined.

Yet suddenly, when he was lost in his thoughts, there was no pain. There was that strange ripple of a feeling again from the way Ernest’s hips tilted to that… place in him. The side facing his stomach. That was more alarming than pain; John sucked in his breath and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping it would pass to the tight, sore, discomfort again.

Except it did not. It was tight, he was so full, but as Ernest leaned down across his back, pushed deeper, there was no pain.

“I… I believe you need to move faster,” he managed in a gasp.

“Stop telling me what to do,” Ernesto groaned against his ear, pushing a little deeper. A hand reached to stroke his chest, the other down his stomach, between his thighs, just brushing his cock.

“I- Yo-” John began in English and then slurred into Spanish, which deteriorated into a breathy syllable. The combination of sensations was making him light headed; he desperately searched in the back of his mind for pain, or even just discomfort, but didn't find any. This tingling was like someone was playing an instrument directly in his ear, drowning out all other sensation.

Another push, a groan - Christ that felt good, so tight around him, and Juan finally being quiet was one hell of a perk. And he took nearly all of him, ah, maybe he was ready. Another groan, and Ernesto rolled his hips, taking a hold of Juan’s cock to stroke it. Full mast, of course he is, who could possibly resist him?

John nearly suffocated himself burying his face in the pillow; the heat and sounds were threatening to spill out of his mouth if he didn’t remain muffled. He couldn’t understand how someone could remain conscious through this. What was happening inside him and across his member threatened to overtake him like the most instant and powerful wine. His own chest was heaving heavily as he’d noticed in Ernest’s breath. God he shouldn’t have lit that candle again, he could only imagine the miserable state his face would be if Ernest moved around him and saw it.

How could his cursed organ be so erect right now? Every part of this was humiliating - something must be wrong, he must not be doing it right. “A-are you sure, this is, right?” he had to press his words carefully, or else they would come out in gasps and groans.

All right, Ernesto thought, he’d had it with his constant questioning. Time to shut him up, he thought, and rocked against him, squeezing his cock at the same time - ah, the tip was already wet with precum from it. His other hand wandered up his chest, found a nipple, and pinched.

That did it, a groan slipped out of the gringo in an undeniable proof of Ernesto’s skill. Around his cock he could feel Juan’s body clench, pulse, build toward a peak. Not another word came out of his heavily accented Spanish questioning Ernesto’s efforts. And the only prayer he heard was ‘Oh God’ . Instead he could focus on just how satisfying it was to have finally found a way to shut him up.

Not that shutting him up was the only satisfying part. Because oh it felt good, how warm he was around him, beneath him - how good he smelled, too. Ernesto couldn’t get enough of that. He leaned across his back, letting go of his cock to run both hands across his chest. This… he wouldn’t be doing this in the barracks, because that was only about getting quick relief and anything too gentle would be an insult to the manhood of both men involved. It would have gotten him odd looks at best, a punch to the face at worst.

And none of the soldiers had felt that nice to the touch, either, all roughened skin and taut bodies, all of them with lice and reeking of sweat after a day marching under the sun. The gringo was soft, even the hair on his chest was so fine. Ernesto pressed further into him - Christ that felt good, pleasure beginning to pool in his loins - and nestled his face against the crook of Juan’s neck, breathing fast.

“Lie down,” he rasped, letting his weight push him down slowly. “On your stomach.”

To his absolute surprise, the man complied. No question, no fuss, just a tentative pause before reclining entirely. He was clearly waiting, hoping, this would be the change he was looking for. Ah, that was… better. Ernesto grinned a little, holding himself up on his arms. Juan’s skin was so flushed, he was almost a bright pink all over. “You took it all,” he rasped. “You sure you were a virgin?”

“O-of course,” Padre Juan sputtered indignantly. He seemed so mortally offended by the suggestion, it made Ernesto chuckle.

“Just kidding, just kidding.” He leaned down on him, breathing fast, face pressed against his neck, and began to slowly tilt his hips - gentle circular movements as opposed to proper thrusting, because oh he suspected he wouldn’t last long otherwise.

And neither would the gringo, apparently.

“P-pause-- por favor, wait--” Juan choked out suddenly, his entire form trembling beneath Ernesto’s weight. He had pulled his head and shoulders up as much as he could. Ernesto immediately stilled, waiting. Shit, had he been too careless-- was there tearing-- was he hurt?

For a few agonizing seconds Juan didn’t speak at all, then managed some anxious words. “So-something… something’s happening to me, I’m… I’m quivering, and-- and it feels like something is going t-to overtake me...”

Oh, Ernesto thought. He breathed out a sigh of relief. “It’s all right,” he muttered, and pushed himself up, still deep within him. He rested a hand over his shuddering back. “It’s all right.”

“I-...” John swallowed. He wanted words, an explanation, a discussion. But for once in his life, words failed him in every language he knew. Everything in his mind was cloudy; the only thing that was clear was how much his sex throbbed with a miserable coiled tension - and how Ernest’s pause made the tension nearly acute pain.

Right now the younger priest’s reassurance, something he would gauff at in other situations, was enough to sedate his worry. So with surrender, he gave a shaky nod, dropping his chin to the pillow once more. There was more panting, moans, little ‘ah, ah, ah’ leaving him with each puff of breath to be muffled into the pillow - all very, very satisfying.

“That’s it, relax,” Ernesto panted, and began rocking his hips again, slowly. It was almost a power trip getting him to listen like this. Because it was obvious when just those slight movements brought him to a surprised, harsh, climax - ass clenching his cock so divinely, a man who hadn’t yet learned how to suppress the symptoms of orgasms to keep face.

John had never experienced anything like it, all his nocturnal emissions had been just that. Unconscious, muted by sleep. Awake it felt like something had just swept over his entire body, then rushed out of him, spilling out all the anxiety, tensions, pain of the evening into a small puddle between his stomach and the mattress. It took him several delayed seconds of consciousness to recognize he’d slurred out some mixture of an English exclamation and the Lord’s name. He laid there shivering, lips flushed, wet, and the crucifix now pressed against his rushing heart. In all the confusion he had let go of it.

Well, that had been quick. Ernesto was rather flattered, but held back a remark and kept moving instead, so slowly, building up a slow, thorough pace. Juan was done, but he was not and ah, he-- deserved some release for a job well done, no? Yes, he decided, he did. He rested on John's back again, arms sneaking around him to pull him close, and kept going. It was-- heavenly, the heat and the tightness and the softness beneath him.

But with his returning clarity, came more remarks from what sounded like the closest to drunk he would ever hear Juan.

“I… have we done it… is it over?”

For a man who prided himself on manners, what an awful imposition during a sexual encounter. Ernesto rolled his eyes, and on a whim bit gently into his shoulder - not enough to leave a mark, no, not like back there. “No,” he panted, and tilted his hips a little harder. “Not yet.”

“Did… did you just bite me?!” The gringo managed to sound somewhat outraged despite how he was struggling to quell his pants. Baiting him to argue wasn’t going over very well, considering Ernesto no longer needed to be so cautious if he’d already gotten him off. Clearly the man wasn’t in pain anymore.

Well then, he could be… a tad more vigorous, no? Ernesto smiled against his skin and instead of replying, he pulled out some to thrust back in - a little harder.

John nearly bit his tongue. Sensation rocketed up his back, intoxicating, like a bullet. After that paroxysm his entire body had become so vulnerable, his mental wall to hate this lost underneath a sea of pleasant sensations swirling his words and thoughts at the moment. If he didn’t remain preoccupied with staying quiet he’d release some vulgar sound he’d heard in alleyways before.

That didn’t make any less obvious to Ernesto how he enjoyed though, especially from how his breaths hitched, back arched, thighs lifted, and ass pulsed for further stimulation against his cock. Now that was more than a little flattering, a sudden thought entering his mind - could he make him come again?

One way to find out. Ernesto drew back only a little, stilled - ah, was it just him or Juan had instinctively tried to lift his hips to keep him in - and he thrust in again, a sudden jolt of his hips, pushing him further into the mattress.

“Jesus H. Christ!” The words tumbled out of John’s mouth before he could stop them - and oh, the immediate regret. Taking the Lord’s name in vain was something he hadn’t done since he was a boy. The embarrassment didn’t have time to settle in, he was too lost in it, his body now in control and struggling to get closer, to get more from Ernest.

“Hmm? What was that?” Ernesto gasped out against his neck, moving again - sharper thrusts, deep, tilting his hips and searching for the right spot, the right angle. At that point, getting a moan out of him was a matter of pride.

“Nothing- uh- nada...” The gringo slurred back, shaking his head. Nice try. Another thrust, one deliberate into the spot he’d found with his fingers, and Juan threw back his head, making a noise through his clenched teeth like a man who had found the peace of divine ecstasy. There were no more complaints out of him. Only the subtle, trying to be discreet, movements of his body to let Ernesto thrust more smoothly.

And ah, he wasn’t the only one in bliss, not anymore. It felt good, everything felt good - the clean sheets and the quietness of the room only broken by their panting and the faint slap of flesh on flesh, how soft he was and how good he smelled and Ernesto tried to draw it out, moving his hips in deep, languid strokes. He was close - Christ so close - but he could hold back, he could make it last. The wooden frame creaked, so softly, and he could see the gringo’s fingers were coiled into his pillow so tight they turned red.

“Oh God,” What is happening. That was the only concise thought John could mange. Sin or cure was far from his mind right now. Moments of embarrassment would creep in, when he felt the sweat on his back, heard the soft clap of their bodies meeting, panting in his ear - but none of it made enough information in his mind to muster stopping. The only thing that jerked any awareness to his mind was when he felt Ernest’s arm slip under his thighs-and with shocking strength rip his hips up taunt to his groin. It knocked a gasp out of him. Since Ernest nearly strangled him for endangering that foolish townswoman, he had forgotten just how strong he was.

“ D-don’t yank me! ” But he said it in the midst of a moan-and in English at that, rendering it useless as an attempt to try and find some superiority. He looked and felt wild. Hair sticking to his face and out at every angle. Perspiration was coating his skin, making his nightgown stick against his flesh. Was this Hell? It felt too good to be Hell, even if it was hot enough.

A part of Ernesto’s brain wondered what the hell had he just said, but it was a really tiny part. The rest was much too taken with how good it felt, how open to him the gringo was now. He grasped his ass, spreading his cheeks to give himself better access-- deeper into that warmth that clenched around him -- and canted his hips, again and again, a barrage of sharp thrusts and mind-numbing pleasure, panting and gasping and refusing to slow down.

Christ to see Padre Juan like this - spread like this for him, moaning for him, moving against him - the haughtiness smacked out of him, the superior tone gone along with any intelligible words. Triumph could only be celebrated with a trophy, which came in the form of Juan’s shift. He was suddenly nearly tangling himself in it trying to pull it off - or just over his face.

Ernesto decided the former and assisted by pulling it forward and then tossing it off the bed before he could change his mind. Now he could watch his entire body go pink as he fucked him properly. He was so close but he could hold on, just a little more, just a little more...

His efforts were rewarded. Juan shuddered against him once more and let out half a harsh groan - ‘Oh God’ - before he buried his face in the pillow. This time he didn’t fight it and nearly trembled out of Ernesto’s grasp from the convulsions. But oh no, he would not let him go that easily, and kept his hips locked even as their position shifted to flat on the bed.

The sense of triumph rushed to his head, and Ernesto gave a sound that might have been a laugh if he weren’t so out of breath, so busy fucking him though his orgasm, chasing his own.

John’s mind was too blank to be ashamed-nothing existed anymore. With the whip there was only pain, a numbness of the mind, a quieting peace that let his body lead his soul a moment. This… was the opposite. Delicious, flowing, explosive, flashes in his mind that quieted every worry he’d ever had or would for that night.

“Ah-- fuck--” Ernesto moaned through his teeth. It was too much, the way he clenched around him, how he trembled, the sounds that left him - his thrusts became quicker, more erratic, pleasure coiling in his loins and it was only a matter of moments. He pressed in deep, dropped his head, and he came with a long groan.

It was the quietest the room had ever been with the two of them in it. Each were panting heavily, lost enough to not recognize they now laid atop each other without needing to. The act was done. Polite parting could happen. But it took at least a minute before John finally lifted his head.

“The...the candle’s too bright.”

His accent had never sounded thicker, but he was barely aware. All of his rational thoughts were buried under a layer of hazy ecstasy lingering like an inhaled high. It didn’t even occur to him that he should be horrified at the thought he had another man’s seed within him.

“Nhhh,” was the only response he got. Ernesto was panting on top of him, still in him, boneless and breathless and lost to the world. He couldn’t muster the strength or will to lift himself, let alone the breath to blow the candle. He just wrapped his arms around Juan, leaning his cheek on the back of his shoulder. “Close your eyes,” he finally mumbled.

In that moment it seemed like a perfectly rational thing to do. John’s body was so light and heavy at once. His anxieties were lost on the ceiling, expelled with the rest of his wit from that second spending. They’d be saying they need to wash, they need to pray, they need to absolve each other, and why was he clinging to him?

But they weren’t there. Instead the only voice in him decided that closing his very heavy eyelids from the invasive light would add to all the pleasant feelings he felt right now. And that Ernest’s presence was a comfort because, something told him in the back of his mind, these sensations could be so very bad if he was experiencing them by his own self.

Ernesto felt him relax, and it was… odd, but not unwelcome. No need to get up quickly and mutter nonsense in Latin: he could keep leaning on him, bask in the sensation - oh so soft - for a while longer. Ernesto nuzzled the crook of his neck, already half-asleep and still dizzy with pleasure, and shut his eyes as well, breathing slowly in his scent.

A few minutes more, neither could argue another few minutes like this could cause any harm. After all the desert is cold at night. That was why they pulled the blanket up, it was just a subconscious need, not an invitation for Ernesto to stay all night. But a few minutes became ten, and washing seemed such a chore right now when it was so cold. The walk back to Ernesto’s room seemed so far, when it was so cold. Without a word to each other they finally agreed wordlessly - a feat only possible without clear-headed sobriety, it seemed - that falling asleep was just the more logical opinion.

And while he would deny it later on, claiming he’d only chosen not to move in order not to disturb John’s sleep, Ernesto was the first one to let sleep claim in: he closed his eyes and let himself fall into a slumber, lulled by the warmth of a body beneath his own and a steady heartbeat beneath his ear.

Both were in the deepest sleep they’d had in years, fucked to exhaustion, when the candle finally extinguished on its own, melted down to the hilt.

#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #coco #fake priest au

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