#and very middle aged white woman core

[spacedustmantis]

ok. i think it's haircut time tomorrow. or not. idk

[jaythelay]

Dump's outta ammo.

1. He tried to start a rumor of Biden coming back. He then, very exceptionally poorly, tried to insert this talking point in the middle of a completely different rally. This, made him look like he has dementia. But make no mistake, the issue was nobody believed him literally instantly, and everyone forgot he even said it the week/day prior because he never built it up. He then immedietely dropped the "Biden's coming back" bit afterwards. Making him look far more dementia riddled than previous.

2. He's trying to claim nobody know's Kamala Harris' last name. Only reason to try this angle is because you're outta ammo and wanted to somehow make her name less recognizable in the moment. But soon after, much like with point 1, he went in too early before it could spread and become common, and thus, had to drop that angle entirely aswell, causing more dementia awareness of himself.

It's like he wanted an instant "her emails" or "his laptop" angle without any time or work at fucking all.

The goal is make shit up til something sticks but it's so old and tired and he's incapable of patience. If it doesn't immedietely work, he jumps to another made up point. Much like with point 1 and 2, point 0 was "Kamala ain't black" which he then, also, abandoned when it didn't immedietly stick.

His cohorts are trying to make it stick but if you call them weird they get reeeeeal defensive and forget what the conversation was, so, the points aren't sticking at all.

3. Him almost getting shot by one of his own party absolutely scared the shit out of him. It's partly why he's sending Vance out. Let him get shot next time, not Dump. Regardless of accuracy on that bit, the fact remains, Republican voters Scared Donald Trump from going to rallies, and Vance is a bodyshield for his weak ass.

4. On top of all this is the stunning double fact: One, is that we all collectively moved on from the republican shooting dump situation, because republican violence is so normalized, and second, his rallies are shrinking Because Even The People Find Them Too Dangerous.

Turns out guns are a problem for republicans. But unlike kids in school, they have the choice not to go to a dangerous republican gathering.

All this to culminate in my theory: R's will drop Dump 2 months in and just accept the losses by replacing him with god knows who probably RFK tbh. They know his goose is completely cooked if he loses, and presently? He's losing. Publically and Loudly.

He's scared as fuck right now and R's eat each other for any social weakness they can create. Dump looks weaker than inch thin frozen piss like my god Cruz has more of a spine now and it may be entirely due to age.

You also have his core fanbae (white supremecists) starting to turn on him. There's leak after leak of stuff he's saying none of it new but desperately old and tried and thus nothing sticks for his fanbase. Every poll has him losing hard, worst of all? To a Bi-Racial Woman. His voters hate her but hate a weak man more. (see how they view trans issues)

He himself will never ever drop out. But his party Absolutely Will Kick Him Out Guaranteed. And we'll see a very bizarre flop in the narrative about Dump from R talking heads. Suddenly when he's gone, they can be honest about him. (Like dems with Biden, literally already, as I called it probably a year ago now)

All this to say, Ya'll if he doesn't have a stroke or some shit, it's either his voter base or cohorts that'll ensure one for him. I kinda feel like most of the political violence that'll come out when Dump loses, will turn inward near immedietely, likely, towards himself.

I mean, they didn't make gallows with a dems name on em, and they did kill some cops, just saying they appear to go after their own when they're in crowds. That and a single gunshot sent them all running, and a single black man completely diverted their attention from their actual goals simply by being black. Literal Toddlers are more successful in any of their goals.

NONE of this is to placate. Vote Kamala, vote Third Party. Just don't not vote. Don't let this opportunity slip away, Dems actually trying is a first in a lifetime, keep that momentum going, and stop allowing bullshit based on party affiliation. God damn RFK the starved brain word dude is considered dem, we deserve better than Biden or RFK, and Kamala/Walz is a hell of a start.

Vote. But ensure you crush R's voting spirit.

We don't need nazis voting for nazis. Ya don't have to sell Kamala/Walz to R's, you need to make R's and Dump appear as weak as they've always been, that's what is working best, because their image is actually everything, we saw it with Rittenhouse and Rogan. Immedietely flip flop because their image was made weak.

That's all a theory, a politic theory. Thank. go now.

[sunderedstar]

Hello! I’m loving your Raksura core AU and I’m wondering how do Raksura age compared to humans? Like what is the human 15 years and 50 years equivalent for Raksura? I haven’t gotten to read Wells’s series yet and I couldn’t find the info online. Thank you!

Raksuran ages are...complicated 😂 Mostly because Wells herself leaves so much of it vague and up to interpretation, and in at least one key instance she outright contradicts herself badly. So friends and I have filled in the gaps with our own math and guesswork over the years. TLDR, a lotttt is covered by the fuzzy realm of "maturity," which for Raksura almost seems to have two stages? But as far as Raksura core goes, 15 is the equivalent of a 15 year old, whereas 50 is probably only just starting to cross over into not-young maturity.

For instance, you're considered no longer a fledgling and therefore eligible to get married shortly after you leave the nurseries (which we estimate around 20ish years old, for simplicity's sake, to sync with human ages). Canon has the example of Ember, who gets taken by Pearl, who is much older than him, when he's younger than Moon. Again, his exact age is never stated.

But there is also another, almost secondary sense of "coming into maturity" that doesn't seem to kick in until consorts are nearly 40 turns old, as we see with this mention of Moon coming into his power.

So! They leave the nurseries and are considered of age, young but mature. Moon, the main character, is at least 40-45 years old based on when his family died, and both he and Ember are referred to as "young consorts," as a category. Which means...if 40+ is still considered young...like, that's not middle age for them. They're just getting started.

(Fact: royal Aeriat and Arbora live longer than warriors, period. Canonical. Every warrior character in Raksura core is a tragedy waiting to happen. You're welcome. We can guess that warriors from royal clutches have the potential to last longer than warriors from Arbora clutches, since they're also bigger and stronger than the norm, but that's speculation.)

Another fact: we know that a consort who becomes a line grandfather can and will outlive everyone they've ever known and loved, even beyond the warrior problem. We're talking multiple generations-spanning lifespans, and the main example we have in Raksura canon, Stone, is still going strong as a huge dragon-bee person long after he's gone grey and outlived his queen. Again, Ms Wells refuses to put exact numbers on his age, but based on some later guesstimation, line-grandfathers have got to be lasting hundreds of years bare minimum. There is no such thing as a queen-line-grandmother equivalent. So consort line grandfathers are outliers, but they must be counted, etc etc.

Queens (such as Ice of Emerald Twilight) can and do otherwise outlive the consorts who don't transition into line grandfathers. Ice is on the verge of turning white with age, the point at which a Raksura knows they're dying, and her living first consort is mature and older than the main character, but entirely lacking in grey scales. Again, with how wide a range "maturity" covers, this type of age gap between queens and consorts seems to be relatively common.

There are also many aspects of this blurred by early installment weirdness - in the first book, Pearl is called old, but tbh, when queens and consorts have this very broad expanse covered by young/mature, Pearl is probably the closest equivalent to a middle aged cougar in my opinion? She's called (I think) three times Moon's age, as another point of comparison, which would put her at 120 years+, but she doesn't have any grey to her scales at all, that woman is in her prime. Malachite of Opal Night is described as bigger and therefore older than Pearl, and she isn't going grey yet either, she's an apex fucking predator.

The real math - the math that Ms Wells may not have intended to be literal, but which I have made the executive decision to take as literal, because it helps explain all of the above - is the fact that Merit, an Arbora described as being young, calls himself one-tenth of Flower's age.

If that is literal? If that is not hyperbole on Merit's part? If we assume that Merit is baseline 20 years old (and he's most likely a little older than that)? Then Flower died of old age when she was 200 years old.

Minimum. Likely a little older, give or take if Merit is closer to 25 or 30.

That single canonical age ratio breaks this whole thing wide open. That is the average Raksuran lifespan in a nutshell. You take that math, and apply it to line-grandfathers, as stated above, who are capable of outliving generations and generations of 200-year-old Arbora? Canon states that Indigo Cloud left the Reaches seven generations ago - and Stone was a fledgling at the time. He is still going.

If they don't get killed, Raksura live a long fucking time.

(And then Ms Wells goes and claims in the third book that the Fell last tried to invade the Reaches only 200 years ago, which makes absolutely zero sense. Actually nonsensical. Does not align with any of these age ranges or her later/short story collection timelines whatsoever. Someone tried to chart it out a while ago on Reddit, and if that was accurate, Stone could only be about 200 years old himself (if the Fell invasion coincided with the big Raksuran migration). And then the Merit:Flower age ratio falls apart as exaggeration, and everyone else collapses back down to a normal human lifespan. You'd still have seven-eight generations, but shrunk into a human-standard 200 year span, instead.)

Which would be boring. 😔✌️ So no, they age like humans until they're 20, and then live until they're 200+.

[witch-ix]

History of Magic on Earth

Magic on Earth was bound to a small island close to Ireland – Tir na Nog. In the middle of it bloomed the Blossom of Life – the magical core of Earth, from which the terrestrial fairies were born.

The island was locked away from humans because the fairies feared them greatly. The key to Tir na Nog was the White Circle. Kept safe by the leader of the fairies.

In 476 A.D. the Sorcerers of the Black Circle, a group of five men who practiced dark magic, came to Tir na Nog. They burned down the Blossom of Life with black flames, ensuring no new fairies could be born. Most of the fairies where killed, others got their wings cut off.

The fairies could imprison the leader of the Sorcerers, Acheron, in the weapon he had created to capture magical creatures and drain their Magic – the Legendarium.

The fairy of Wisdom, advisor of the leader of fairies, was able to use the White Circle to flee into the future. It sent her to the closest day in time, which had a huge output of magic (the day Daphne brought Bloom to Earth). It was a warm summer night in 1986. She was also able to safe two very young fairies whose wings had been cut off.

In doing so she trapped the four remaining Sorcerers in Tir na Nog. Not knowing they wouldn’t age even a single day, since the island had that effect on humans.

To this day the White Circle remains to be the key to Tir na Nog, where the magic grew to be wild and uncontrollable, since the core had been destroyed. Thus, turning the White Circle into a powerful magic weapon.

Terrestrial fairies were born genderless and with wings. Their magical power was connected to the moth of their birth.

Air magic connected to spring months – March, April, May

Fire magic connected to summer months – June, July, August

Earth magic connected to autumn months – September, October, November

Water magic connected to winter months – Dezember, January, February

Besides the connection to the element of their birth season they could choose an additional power source, which was connected to their personal interest most of the time.

Terrestrial witch/ers are terrestrial fairies whose wings have been cut off. Through that the connection to their element was destroyed, making their magic more destructive and volatile.

The stronger and more skilled a terrestrial witch/er becomes with their magic, the more transparent their physical bodies become – they get more and more replaced by their raw magic, until they are fully ethereal.

The Blossom of Life bloomed once every hundred years, but could never regrow.

In 1987 it regrew in the garden of a sickly pregnant woman. Her daughter was born healthily, the woman though died anyway. The young girl however, is the first human born with magic.

[cryptic-paw]

The Black Hound

The hound, I saw it, big and black, prowling the wood, waiting for its prey to stumble

It seemed like just a dog, but there was something much more to it, something that not many people would believe

But I believe. I saw it

The stars shone not. The moon was full

It glowed the whitest white I had ever seen

It was not that of an eerie yellow, or red, or black moon

The moon was so natural that it was supernatural, the essence of transformation gleaming down to the earth

I remember the hound did not mind the moon, and it came into the open

I was hidden, afraid for that if I moved, I would alert it of my presence

I breathed no breath, for my heartbeat reverberated its drum-like echo in my core, reaching my ears

If I heard it, surely the hound did, too

It happened then, the change in the dog, the terrifying transformation that left me filled with dread of the creature

The demon took the shape of a human, a middle-aged woman

She did not see me, but I saw the menacing look in her eyes

She intended to kill. She wanted to kill

I backed away ever so slowly

Each step took seconds to take. I placed my footing carefully

Yet, fate despised me, and an unexpected snap sounded from under my foot

It was but a single twig, but it felt like I had broken the string of my life

The hound-woman heard the noise and whirled in my direction, sniffing the air

Fate played with me like a violin as my scent shifted downwind

She knew I was there

My heart beat rapidly and was faster than my footsteps on the soft grass

I knew the pursuit would not last long

The beast was almost upon me

My house came into my sight

I ran with the swiftness of a steed and beat the hound to the door

The door would not protect me for long

The hound was savage and merciless as it threw itself again and again against the weak wood

Through my terror, the idea of my survival came to me once I laid my eyes upon the pantry

I rushed inside and grabbed the juiciest slice of meat I could find

I then proceeded into pouring potent poison over the beef

The hound’s cravings would be its downfall

I heard the door splinter in half as the hound crashed through

I flung the meat at the feral canine, and it accepted my offering

The demon ripped, mangled, and consumed the meat with great rage, its red eyes shining

Within seconds after its meal, the hound began to foam at the mouth

It choked on its own blood as it came streaming from its mouth

The demon morphed back to its human state in its final moment, and when the toxin had taken its full effect, its eyes refused to shine

This nightmare was over, but a new one had begun, for when I had gotten close enough to see the woman’s face, I saw that I had killed someone I knew very well

I had killed the master of the house

[crypticpawpoems]

The Black Hound

The hound, I saw it, big and black, prowling the wood, waiting for its prey to stumble

It seemed like just a dog, but there was something much more to it, something that not many people would believe

But I believe. I saw it

The stars shone not. The moon was full

It glowed the whitest white I had ever seen

It was not that of an eerie yellow, or red, or black moon

The moon was so natural that it was supernatural, the essence of transformation gleaming down to the earth

I remember the hound did not mind the moon, and it came into the open

I was hidden, afraid for that if I moved, I would alert it of my presence

I breathed no breath, for my heartbeat reverberated its drum-like echo in my core, reaching my ears

If I heard it, surely the hound did, too

It happened then, the change in the dog, the terrifying transformation that left me filled with dread of the creature

The demon took the shape of a human, a middle-aged woman

She did not see me, but I saw the menacing look in her eyes

She intended to kill. She wanted to kill

I backed away ever so slowly

Each step took seconds to take. I placed my footing carefully

Yet, fate despised me, and an unexpected snap sounded from under my foot

It was but a single twig, but it felt like I had broken the string of my life

The hound-woman heard the noise and whirled in my direction, sniffing the air

Fate played with me like a violin as my scent shifted downwind

She knew I was there

My heart beat rapidly and was faster than my footsteps on the soft grass

I knew the pursuit would not last long

The beast was almost upon me

My house came into my sight

I ran with the swiftness of a steed and beat the hound to the door

The door would not protect me for long

The hound was savage and merciless as it threw itself again and again against the weak wood

Through my terror, the idea of my survival came to me once I laid my eyes upon the pantry

I rushed inside and grabbed the juiciest slice of meat I could find

I then proceeded into pouring potent poison over the beef

The hound’s cravings would be its downfall

I heard the door splinter in half as the hound crashed through

I flung the meat at the feral canine, and it accepted my offering

The demon ripped, mangled, and consumed the meat with great rage, its red eyes shining

Within seconds after its meal, the hound began to foam at the mouth

It choked on its own blood as it came streaming from its mouth

The demon morphed back to its human state in its final moment, and when the toxin had taken its full effect, its eyes refused to shine

This nightmare was over, but a new one had begun, for when I had gotten close enough to see the woman’s face, I saw that I had killed someone I knew very well

I had killed the master of the house

----------------------------------------------------

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[lonelywretchjervistetch]

My DC Cinematic Universe: Superman (Part III)

Chapter Three: American Gothic

We're gonna start this one by breaking into my idea for my movie, set to introduce a new Superman to a DC Cinematic Universe of my making. James Gunn, who's currently writing his Superman film, has been saying pretty ardently that this won't be an origin movie. And that's wise, in my opinion. We've had two Superman origin films, so why have a third in the docket. I think some of that should apply to the other members of the Trinity (Batman and Wonder Woman), but let's not get to far ahead of ourselves. In fact, I'll just say this: the origin story extent within the Trinity is gonna be on a three-part spectrum. Batman won't get any origin story stuff at all, Wonder Woman will get a LOT of origin story stuff (because I'll be changing some things significantly, compared to the Jenkins film), and Superman...well, he's in the middle. But OK, enough preamble; here's how this is kicking off.

Our film is going to take place mostly in Metropolis, from the jump. Because of that, there won't be much or any of the Kent Farm outside of brief scenes. In fact, the first time we see our Kents will be when they come to visit Clark in his Metropolis apartment. He'll have gotten a fairly new apartment, due to an improved status and salary at the Daily Planet, and that'll be an excuse for the Kents to visit their son (whom they're constantly worried about). I'll talk about what happens to the Kents over the course of this theoretical film as we go along, but just know for now that we'll be seeing them interact with Clark for the first time in Metropolis, not Smallville.

Since we're meeting the Kents now, let's talk about them right quick, one at a time, starting with...

Jonathan Kent: Farmer Until (Inevitable) Death

The Kents go WAY back to the Civil War, and are some of the first settlers of Kansas, according pervious DC Comics lore. Having settled the Smallville farm at least 100 years ago, they're the very definition of the American farmer. Because of this, Jonathan Kent is a dedicated farm-man, and has all the trappings of such. A traditionalist in some ways, and progressive in others, Jonathan believes in truth, justice, and the American way whole-heartedly, and his moral compass is a major influence on Clark's moral compass as an adult. It's pretty safe to say that ever Jonathan Kent is a hero to his adopted son, and I understand why. He was a good and loving father, who only wanted the best for his son, while also being aware that his son was meant for greater things.

But that said...Jonathan's characterization has danced around those points pretty considerably. In my opinion, the core tenets of Jonathan Kent are as follows:

He will do anything for his wife. Jonathan and Martha are one of the most loving and enduring couples in comic books, and their relationship is what Clark (and most other people) see as the ideal middle-aged/elderly couple. Jonathan takes his wedding vows as seriously as his life, and his love for his wife is still deeper than the ocean depths. It's sweet.

He will do anything for his son. Jonathan would be proud of Clark no matter what he did, but the fact that his son is a successful reporter and Superman makes him the proudest father that's ever lived. Only the fear of ruining his son's and Martha's life prevents him from shouting his son's secret from the mountaintops, just so the universe can love his son as much as he does. Oh, and one more thing: Clark is his son. Period.

His moral compass is as lawful good as you can get. You know how I said Clark would and should be aware that morality is in greyscale? Yeah, Jonathan believes in black-and-white, right vs. wrong, full stop. His moral compass is as monochromatic as it gets. Maybe that's him being old-fashioned; maybe it's him being isolated from larger populations...who knows? But to Jonathan Kent, right is right, and wrong is wrong. Period.

He has pretty severe heart problems. ...You'll see.

While I'd love to go into Jonathan's interesting comic book history, I'll save it for myself. However, if you're curious, my favorite Jonathan Kent story takes place mostly in Adventures of Superman #500 (1993), which happens in the fallout of The Death of Superman story, as well as being the first issue of the Reign of the Supermen story. It's also one of the few comics I physically own, and I treasure the SHIT out of it for various reasons. Anyway, check it out if you're curious! However, the first time you Jonathan in that issue, it hints as a recurring theme of his...and I'll get to that.

OK, so, Jonathan Kent adaptations real quick! Technically, Jonathan first appeared in Superman: The Movie, played by Golden Age superstar Glenn Ford. While he wasn't in the film for very long, the main thing he's remembered for is giving Clark advice about his role on Earth...and then dying of a massive heart attack immediately after that. This prompts a young Clark, eventually, into becoming the hero his dad dreamed he could be.

After this version of the character, DC rebooted its continuity in Crisis on Infinite Earths, bringing the Kents back to life in the universe's present day. Oh, uh...did I forget to mention that the Kents are fucking dead in the original comics? Yeah, we only met them in Superboy comics, which is...another story entirely. Anyway, after this, the Kent also appeared in media again. They were in Superboy and Lois and Clark, but the most famous incarnation of Jonathan Kent came in Smallville.

John Schneider's Jonathan Kent, to me and many, is THE Jonathan Kent. Still the family-oriented farmer, this Jonathan Kent comes with a few less years, a grudge against the Luthor family, and a massive anger issue. Still the supportive father, and still proud of Clark no matter what, he was a little more soap-opera-y than most versions, since...well, that's what Smallville was, to be honest. Financial issues, marital problems, etc. But still, he was a great father and a good man. So dedicated to his family was he, that he went to save his son from himself while Clark was being taken over by a supplanted Kryptonian version of himself (fucking...FUCKING DO NOT ASK), and made a deal with Jor-El in the process. This deal granted him power equivalent to Clark, because Smallville doesn't make sense. And in the process...it gave him heart problems. Time travel forward to episode 100 of the series and...yeah, Jonathan dies of a heart attack.

Seeing the pattern? Well, we haven't gotten to the dumbest example.

...Fuck you Man of Steel. This stupid-ass movies ruins Jonathan Kent. Played by a piece of cardboard given sentience by the Blue Fairy by accident, AKA Kevin Costner, This version of Jonathan wants to protect his son by sheltering him until the time is juuuuuuuust right for him to come out, like a fucking souffle. A Souperflee, if you goddamn will. Because of this, there is a point in this film when, while talking to his young son, he argues that maybe, just maybe, Clark should've let a SCHOOLBUS FULL OF CHILDREN DROWN, just to keep his secret. Yeah, Jonathan would NEVER suggest that. Absolutely not. And then, to top it all off, the man stops his son from saving him from a FUCKING TORNADO, and dies in a manner so unintentionally funny, it has a Know Your Meme page about it. #stopmyinvincibleson.

Well. In summary, Jonathan Kent is a farming man with strong morals and an intense devotion to family. And he always dies, or at the very least, almost dies. More of that later. For now, that's basically the summary. Now, let's talk about Mom.

Martha Kent: More Than a Farmer's Wife

Ever since Crisis on Infinite Earths, Martha Kent has been a part of Clark's life in the past and present. Like Jonathan, she loves her son and her husband endlessly. However, where Jonathan's morality is unbent by the world around her, Martha is traditionally a bit more practical. She's the grounding presence and the heart of the Kent household, as well as pretty much being the traditional stay-at-home mother character. Her core character traits, to me, are as follows:

Martha is a caring mother and wife. 'Nuff said.

...Shit. That actually might be it.

Yeah, unfortunately, Martha both does and doesn't get a lot of attention in the comics. I guess I could just say that Martha is compassionate and caring, for anybody who needs her help. She's taken in most people positively affiliated with the Superman mythos, especially Superboy (Conner Kent) and Krypto the Superdog, for starters. Other than that, though, you can play around with Martha a bit. And that's what the various adaptations have done with her.

Unfortunately, even though Martha's appeared in Superman: The Movie (played by Phyllis Thaxter), and Lois and Clark (played by K Callan), Martha hadn't had a lot of import in the mythos, outside of usually being the person who made Clark's iconic Superman suit. But then, Smallville came along with Annette O'Toole in the role, and this made the character WAY more dynamic. Now from high society Metropolis originally, she became a college-educated working mom, who started the series by managing the financial details of the farm. By the time the series ended, a widowed Martha Kent had been a United States Senator, a leading member of the covert-ops government agency Checkmate, and had remarried Perry White! Martha Kent is, in my opinion, one of the most underrated characters Smallville ever produced. And even though she was able to do ALL of those things, she never dipped into Mary Sue territory. She was just always...honestly, she was just always a good mom.

And honestly, so is MAARTHAAAA...sorry, Diane Lane as the character in the Snyderverse films. Infamous in name specifically, Martha "WHYDIDYOUSAYTHATNAME" Kent remained on the farm, and is an independent woman who loves her son, while recognizing his importance. Not entirely my Martha Kent, but definitely not a bad version of the character. Better than Jonathan, anyway.

With all of that said, Martha is sort-of an open book as these characters go. My version will be the caring mom who grounds Jonathan and Clark in reality, while allowing and inspiring them to reach for the stars. Also, she'll be involved in town matters, taking the politics angle from Smallville a bit more proactively.

And now, with THAT said...

My Jonathan and Martha Kent

As I said before, in my theoretical film, the Kents won't interact physically with Clark until they get to Metropolis. We'll see the farm itself, possibly while Clark and the Kents are on the phone with each other, talking about their upcoming visit, but the Kents will visit Clark in his new apartment, both alive and well. They'll also serve as a part of Clark's personal journey of discovery in this film, because they represent his earthly origins. See, we'll find out early on that while Clark does know a bit about Krypton and his origins, he's almost entirely in the dark about much of his past. There's no Fortress of Solitude, no communication from the dead, not even the names of his parents. So, a visit from the only parents he knows is welcomed.

But then, while the Kents are in Metropolis, the main villains of the piece strike. These villains, whose names will remain unsaid until later posts, have a weapon that SUperman has never seen before: Kryptonite. And yes, I know that Kryptonite has its own over-usage, but we'll get to that later. But Kryptonite, in this case, is meant to be a symbol of a piece of home that Clark doesn't know about or understand. Somebody else understands it, and has armed out villains with it. After a big climactic fight, Clark's going to be in recovery, cared for by his parents. While in recovery, Martha will give Clark an early homecoming present. They'd found it in his old room recently, and had forgotten about it. Said item is a crystal-laden necklace, which was the only thing he had on him as an infant in the ship. And when the now-adult and injured Clark makes contact with it, the device activates and creates an electronic pulse that rattles the apartment and shuts down all electronics. And detecting a comatose Clark, it also beams a message into his own mind.

And with that...it's time to talk about Krypton. Hoo boy.

Index: Superman

Part I: Why I Love Superman

Part II: On Lois Lane

Part III: The Kents

Part IV: The 'Rents

Part V: The...Frendts?

Part VI: Lex Luthor

Part VII: The Real Villains

Part VIII: Superman's Rogues Gallery

Part IX: The Story - Act One

Part X: The Story (Acts Two and Three)

Part XI: The Story - Climax

Part XII: Epilogue (Part One)

Part XIII: Epilogue (Part Two)

[phoenixryzing]

It wasn't as though this was impossible on Ethyril, rather, very odd.

No god predated the planet, none claimed its creation or the creation of the universe or the like. Rather, the gods of the magic-cored planet were aspects of human willpower and magic given form. This was a well-known fact.

It was also a well-known fact that each god had a domain, a field of magic they maintained and oversaw. Gods were little more than cosmic businessmen, though gardener was more apt: they grew the power in their followers, tended the weeds of chaos from bad magicians, and generally made sure the world didn't blow up.

Therefore, their worship--an act that re-affirms their existence in the mind of mortals and keeps them alive--was both vital and very practical and common.

The god explained all this while their coffee grew cold. The shimmering, humanoid-shaped garden had no mouth to speak of, but Alica noticed the 'flowers' on it seem to move their petals when they spoke. She narrowed her eyes. A good bit of illusion magic, she thought.

"Ms. Fairfield," the god--Eden, they were known, after a mythical garden in the Age of Myths--said in a beleaguered tone, "You must understand. Us gods are very real, and your disbelief only hinders our work. For such a famed--and powerful--magician like yourself to decry us--"

"How long did it take you to make that outfit?" Alice asked. "Months? Years? I bet if I got Charon in here, he could dispel it. The Paladin Order does not take kindly to lies, and as our best Light Mage, he easily could."

The garden seemed unperturbed. "Then ask for him. I have nothing to hide."

Alica glared again, but picked up a small crystal, tapped it thrice, and asked the operator for Charon. She explained the situation tersely. "We have someone claiming diety-hood here, come show them up will you?"

She heard a heavy sigh on the other end, and Charon grumbled an agreement.

While they waited, Alica stood and got herself more coffee. The paladin was dressed in her day attire, rough-spun white cotton kept immaculately clean, a mirror of the cottage. A small, hard bed stood in one corner, a little kitchen in another, a study in another. The table Eden sat at was in the middle of the well-kept dirt floor, and was clean of anything but the pewter cups.

Eden appreciated a good dirt floor, not easy to keep looking nice, and reached some roots down. While Alica was busy with the fire-elemented stove, they discreetly poured the coffee onto the ground, their roots absorbing the liquid without a trace. They hummed. "A good brew," they said, vines brightening a bit. "You have an eye for coffee plants. This feels. . . oh, a bean originally from Eros. Far away from here," they commented, as Alica came back with a steaming cup.

"You did your research," Alica edged, sitting down. She sipped her own cup, and glanced at Eden. "Yes, in the capital a merchant keeps some plants. Its an extravagance to buy the beans, but I save by roasting the beans myself. As I'm sure you knew," she said scathingly.

Eden chuckled. "You are a fine fire mage as well as life one. I assume you learned the art to better your purification spells? They are top-notch from my observation."

Flushing a little, the woman said, "But of course. A good Paladin has one of three sub-fields: fire for wound cleansing, water for wound stitching, and light for long life. Everyone knows that," she said, jutting out her chin.

Chuckling again, Eden said, "Yet the Order has the role of Light wrong. Light is a field of energy, one that promotes growth and stimulation. What Life magic infused with Light does is actually regenerate the body, curing the effects of aging. Aging is but another illness, child," it said, though in a rather grandmotherly tone, "One necessary for the continuation of the Cycle, but an illness none the less. The body, as time passed, develops micro-wounds in its very makeup, errors that come to look like sagging skin or cloudy eyes. These errors can be healed like any other, if one were to focus on the very mechanics of growth itself--hence, a strong light augmentation heals the effects of aging," Eden explained.

Alica listened despite herself. Some of this was known, but she had never had it explained quite so well. She shifted unconsciously to that of a dutiful student, and started, "If so, how--"

However, a knock on the door interrupted them. Alica excused herself, then got up and let Charon in. The tall, espresso-skinned man entered, clad similarly in rough-spun white robes. He had an irritated look on its face, but it dropped when he saw Eden.

"Lord Eden!" he cried, falling immediately into full prostate. "Forgive me! If I had known, I would have worn my cerimonal robes--"

Eden stood, or rather lengthened, and reached a vine down to Charon. "Rise, my child. There is no need. While I appreciate the effort, I need no ornate ceremony from my worshippers." Their tone was warm, as though speaking with a favorite son, and Charon flushed furiously.

He rose, brushing a bit of dirt off his robes, and saying in a small voice, "I apologize for my lack of recent prayer. I worried that, with--"

Eden waved a vine. "No worries my son," she said, and he looked up, bright-eyed. "Though in a garden one grows as one is planted, humans will ever make their own way. I hold no grudge for it."

Charon stammered a thanks, while Alica slowly closed the door. She was conflicted. Eden seemed quite genuine, but--

"Eden," she finally barked, "If you and the gods are real, why this war with the Elemental Forces? Why not control your men!"

Charon looked at her sharply, then his shoulders sagged. "I must confess, even I wonder that," he said. "We fight every day for our survival, while the gods. . . "

". . . cannot do a thing," Eden said. Alica glared, but Eden continued, "We are made of willpower made form via magic. Do you think we control humanity, much less all the creatures of magic of old? Indeed, only via bodily force could we do anything, and then only one creature at a time. Humans, yes, we could deprive of magic. Creatures of magic, however. . . " they trailed of.

"As beings of raw magic, you'd have to starve them entirely, yes?" Charon asked, and Eden nodded.

"I do not agree with doing that. Lord of Life and all that," they said with a weak chuckle. "We ask. We plead. We bargain. The creatures of Life have agreed to stay in their Plane with their role in the Cycle, and that is the most I can do. I know Anubis has a similar agreement with the beings of Death, but the other gods. . . " they sighed, a sound like the wind through the trees.

A silence passed. Alica sighed, and walked over to the stove. "Charon, would you like some coffee? Lord Eden, some more?"

They agreed, Eden humming happily before settling down for a long talk. They needed to do coffee more often!

“God can come have coffee with me if he’s really interested.” You said, shutting the door on some irritating guys with pamphlets. The very next day, God taps lightly on your door, to have a coffee.

[guroperv]

Random question time!!

What's everyone's favourite season and why?

Any particular teacher or class in school that you just fucking hated? (For reasons outside of not being good at the class)

Favourite -core aesthetic and favourite non -core aesthetics?

How do you keep your nails? Trimmed and short? Long? Fake nails? What's the deal?

Any criminal/killer who you just don't get the hype for? Or maybe someone who you understand why they've got a lot of hype around, but just aren't that invested in personally?

Favourite drinks? Think we asked about food already but not sure if we asked about beverages

How does everyone like their meat (if applicable)? Raw? Rare? Well done?

Any media that you love but can't stand the fans of so you don't interact with the fandom?

Free space!! Just tell us whatever here or use it to post another fav picture :]

-⚰️🔞

goodness that's a lot!!!! thank you x3 i love the big asks with a ton of stuff for me to answer hehe! answers below the cut so you all don't have to scroll through a novel on your dashboards <3

1. my favorite season is winter. i was born in december, and i just love the cold stillness and the way the snow shimmers and sparkles, it's so pretty! shi's favorite is spring, he likes the crisp air and all the beautiful fresh blooms of flowers, he says it makes his mind at ease to be out during a cool spring day. stein's is autumn, he enjoys the dark nights, and halloween is his favorite holiday. none of us enjoy summer, thankfully, and i think it has to do with the body not tolerating the heat well.

2. i hated my english class in 7th grade, and my teacher hated me too for some reason. she was this crotchety middle-age white woman and she just absolutely despised all of the work i turned in and would purposefully score my work lower than my peers even though comparatively, my work was at about the same level as theirs (i used to compare my stuff to my friends' who also had her class). never understood what was up with her, she just did not like me for whatever reason. :/

3. my favorite -core aesthetic is probably....scenecore, does that one count though since it can also just be defined as scene? but my favorite non-core aesthetic is a tie between cybergoth and frutiger aero, since i grew up in the early 2000s when both of those were HUGE (as was scene/core) so i guess they're just very nostalgic to me.

4. i trim my nails, and then let them grow somewhat long and keep them that way for a bit. i care deeply about my health and that's what's best for fingernails is to trim and then let them grow out a bit and then repeat!

5. it's not that i don't get the hype behind these guys, i do, i fully understand the appeal .......but im just not personally all that crazy about the columbine shooters. i know my throat might get jumped at for saying this, but i just don't care. i like seeing all the crime scene stuff and the footage from the school CCTV monitors, but the guys themselves i just.......don't care for. *shrug*

6. my favorite drink is the campfire mocha from our local coffee shop called caribou (a midwestern coffee shop), it has marshmallows and crumbled graham cracker so it tastes like a smore. shi's is water, but he also likes tea, specifically matcha. stein's is straight black coffee because he's a lunatic.

7. i prefer my meat as rare as it can be without the risk of me getting sick. it's just so tender and juicy and the blood honestly adds to the flavor! shi prefers his medium-rare. stein likes his medium-rare as well...and for the sake of this question and this question alone, the one who i still have trouble mentioning prefers his meat cooked rare and similar to how you prepare a hog steak. he's a cannibal, but obviously we can't really access human meat easily...😅

8. yes actually, i have been a huge fan of five nights at freddy's ever since the first game came out! but the fandom is fucking abysmal from what ive seen so i really try not to get involved in it. i hate when fandoms get so large that a bunch of annoying people filter into it 😭

9. hhmmmmmm well, directly to you; im still struggling with a url. literally can't think of anything!!! i have an idea for my blog theme but the url is giving me so much pause :( and also, here's a picture of my werebunny plushie dreadful i got last week!

[libidomechanica]

“This they, in his poets a”

A ballad sequence

               I

A finished with sparkling still     come, I am sick pajamas in his kindle of rye,     terrified to a moment

felt, the nature comes gold, whence     not him half-unquenchanted looking the fire wove. By our     faces are love—put the

shall the royal and veiling mighty     store her hopes, and thorn, to spleen, became again the day,     fancy, Nancy; yet never

me? However, you have, wave     his side hut, whence sad? This they, in his poets a new posite     of beauty and weepstake

in transies of incorrigible     still, singing flowers before the large. Wore him err:     nor fountain of the woman

can pleasures in for caste though     its core, and white fishers morals, but I asked to mind. They     lightnings me a lee-shoreward

there the totem. And stern king     till strong without a starrest of hope has cures. One his be     lovers of the numerous

exampled again where unmatched     preach me for traffic with the say, It was asked, what noble     Vashti! Itself

avoided from the dead a light: but     chin a happy eyes of the sage. Heart! If not that clouds. Beside     of chanted with only

thunder gave, nor evening most     I sung as sudden grace of age, who crime you for of Israel.     Reflection or house’s

lips waving soul, or two frown,     far over side the must way or woman, whose the poor do     youthful to settled—and

that Beauty of getting clear, in     she gave, and fragrance deprecipices, received not     restined at thought the goes

by, hold; whilst though the glory teless     pening what more it! And they who level, when juvenile     a green sod, soon bloom

of your fate, till I casting but     your gloom! Have spear? Grave; he fenced; Decided among youth is,     if not names bud of the

vultures, yet music pour on the     blinding Youth, there’s noble mine despair! The yellow braille     to each cheek, thy praise he

had a silent light, threaten happens     to drink delight, to th’ unwilling thou hast the     world touch many had a

day night! Of flame, another, I     see nough: ’ and heaven is the morning in the dark, and ever,     dear children dear love

me. This poor made, according when     I be she heavier circumstance; they are my love, I     once he metaphysics!

               II

Spend in her farthing flames, whom ever,     nor flattery, but all. Where every fair Cloe not beside     remedy? Come, and

came is not touch his gay daught, when     loud? Desert vast bulk that cause I not again and choose sweep     your coyness and her, O.

               III

And and when at the worst a sighs.     Know little o’er the seaweed the kill’d by the glassy earth     banners be sometime

hottery! Then much betters of     Jerusalem, and content. Her cheeks are them lying kiss, and     Cressys, and glory spray,

and love. The one of succession’s     the delicated with the deep in the first too much—to     prey, till the who in thy

bed: may said t were shed people,     as eyes of the river stick may get on me: for me, the     light I was pleased her left

slapped on the one best with a flock     with was a young petals aforests are some Dreams renew’d;     where wax dim, and middle.

               IV

The day, and where the brew’d from soul     to the brow, till the hills, as if thereof man! Banquet with     production, hides, where had

not whence adore. Descending, at     a glowing casually we had put our feel thence of sent     from the sacred veil a

notary wi’ drinkin o’t,     we’re lowers. Still women what’s the Heaven’s eyes, Nor left alive;     Wake they borrow up

his call not unallied t’ other;     yea, all the grows of Heavens said he how eager and     were very days: nor ever

doubt no less to a sculler     delighters run glibber alone glass. He has sudden patient,     each too much sad, thou

weary momentum. While he hae     I been pyramid thump a league across my blisse the stars     the sea, thine, where sin, and

not adds are? Breast thou shall I was     lucky, and passport which thee, my own my hand drooping family     stuck the good throught, to

be at home hit it, even gave     you in the strike as if at they hateful sacred by I’ll     thy delight upon mine

the father, are aeons urge to swim     in milk and not to climate of a syllable as an     ideal, where freeholding

and this, and which wrough her sits, but     your mother all at once, chastily to th’ unfruits.     From me, fly means roll in

yon his she was oblige her and     thee, able by look of this called and yet lips, when a noon,     a museum. Loud palace,

when leaved stroke. Proportion     our gloomy prince’s done, and my look back to mine, Wake,     melanchor,—replied:—My lady

strange, a pure bar, cried, bodies     always I was the devil. Which gave, and grow. And if but     the soft, when to be yet!

               V

Will bitter when thy hair way to     feeding no cried: The seems but be both his boathe firm, whom heart’s     heart our name furrow up

his blue. ’ At least perceiving, came     away; and taciturn my God! Besides o’erflows, have for     one, with constitution

innocent, glue, and Osiris     the moment I will my chilly on the river he feelings     that same time to the

rock so befel in viewing Billy’s     bright ideal like a pass’d with her up. The restry of     honour, and mock them; so

doth binding airs were all is sure     forgive me, I request: ’twas boundaries, and scarce know no     mattering want tails to thee.

Sincere all, life, she margin hollow     broom’s a Cage; minds, at once that I promised your slave, they     said he don’t stopper with

a new Heaven fool’s hearts were that     I am naked breath most some thine own heat, had see my     love, that gifts its to you

gavest, and seldom the skies; high     grown a cheek anew! Then he was over god, that thy judgment     days passion-winged

Misery, but prodigal inserted     to taste eternal Hunger lawny contagion; and     somewhere I turning of

temples peeper, yet on one uncloud     is over mould their fails were already to blame might     and endles of there breasts

beyond comes to warmth agains its     beyond thy Son land; I, on either, sister, the bear, with     worse their appoint to be.

               VI

And thou than not tell whirls, like sea.     A guarded without: love higher received, the sunbeam shall     burner, you kiss me, my

Deare, let my soul made for which is     Solomon’s. How does Love, my ache from my soul, and wild wrinkle,     over hand and of

this: he flying: and made his side:     but I am sick of spices to Auld Lang Syne! He gave     her possess’d thy fair of

that, with patience to Holland’s house:     they grew, that you know my below, by for us most come     other, when calculation,

who care, the dry; it is garden,     you are less mouth, when gusts shagg’d, and sea, and was the lasting     soul. Tell be, by the

addition as his swooning is     a sister cheek the paths your ancient to me: what troubled.     Heaven and her tripping

rose threw torturing prey, rose early     she weak the fondness, far less was à-la-mort, and find,     our words of eisel gains

unseen, the hath a cypression,     ’ Lady of the staid, is ruffled, a through a low, and now     on rose, because the enlight

whose shun her rapt upon through     to prove; if between thine. There due rest and me. It at     Apollo, from thy skiffs which

none, and vitamins. My vine said     here I never dwell; let me license; might in, like a race,—     because by the immortal,

a coupled, gentle cheek and     all round, and place. When I was attach’d; t was silence. I     said, and growth of the Pilgrim

Dante’s staff gave her care, nor     have wild echoes will now, and the crime, as thine walls. Not this     last nightingale as war,

or old and burst by mewered     my love fill of their grove, ’ as that see time the wedded with     what eithere’s there, and

is my heaves that crawl thrown? Oh plunge     into a ripe; a sort to Time, remote those solar     energy, Madam white-hot.

               VII

Herself to saying you swear as     Stella, this lives, or still’d within this mind has cures. Stand     insation, which fields are always

the tale beloved the king     of need. And years as a beat bare free, which has fear wooly     rest. The Fate but should so

that believers: and shake and limed     his vocal air, and met thy mould the best but it bare;     the Gardens, and endued

what; while, I answered the ready.     But not due to the fierce this fluttered sure you, Mag. In our     lad, an echoes flying

flames be both old-recurring leaves     in rubles your night: soothe time, so farmers ever: and grief     oppress’d, another’d the

Lady of Shalott. Last sad, saw     you, O daughter of Lebanon. In vain examples peeping     flowery leaves dry.

               VIII

Even though the pantom flowers.     Fright winds best the mountain, the graveyards; but thou spend upon     their long women pretty.

               IX

He careful, O my lover lips     and, were near. Teach amiss, a pavement my joys touch he was     thou but ever can do.

               X

At late a morals, why we nothing,     end, the pursue; nor loveth: I soughts pure; but down selfsame     to whatever

winterest me ever way be a     hoarded with blooms. The dare not a quantity soothings, spreads     globe, yet mine is charms with

the sheet of prove: she spirit bent     with what is whisper orient as a woman-kindless     into a shore the year

the upright, and as flight or     popularity, but a husband, so will happier men—     for his charge you of this

fair! Not all, a great love me new     wive; for tells that can stars, were some gentless with patient cathed     rite yet proceeds freehold,

thou use of those sometimes they     borrow-cloudwhite: and ices, tapers number their vigils     pale chase to say thy

purity and think this small perfume;     far debates of that breast, when, worst: all pay the bonds, diamond     play. A heavenly griefs

to whom myself we gazed awe, who     saved within thither, Donna Inez, fine golden breckan,     than manner of succeeded,

thoughts walls far from the secretaries,     do your ladies in an operate all once and     that long to known; at this

love—put in sooth, and of life, and     wants full cycle, with so him even-songs, and lo, by the     soil to secure a doubt

and far away from his my future     dark squally place it show it was your filled tip into     that I may every one

humming she may, be thy hair. And     him to move is a staken, mend of strikes, whence was exampler,     what he may be eight

it to green, and him who court     aristocracy; you were bride or a blues banners mortal     moons before was their pain.

               XI

We translates will her hands that come     quaint, uninter is the fine thou haste queen, and bit were street     suburban girl, how of

looks freedom or reason, that breasts     too—filled times home a thin- lipped with a hundred though the crags,     O my beads were hath and

loaths that so thee to put in an     everywhere Beast. For hero, Juan, in wrangled what chimneys     of gold; she kelp how charm

toward most bare they dancery,—which     warm that me, Her blowzy bag of his own, down upon thing.     Tho’ I am Ra who

never happy, the humming iron,     let me sink when, truly, known, I go hence my fears, confines,     on her which, she can;

who flatter sky, and at least seemed     these bone. What isle that canst not, nor kneel, abbot, squire, chewing     of it—she raven is

heaven faithful to the deem’d through     Poland these brain, that is most air who love—put me beareth     twinkled out of my blooms.

               XII

The touch another, each other need blow, blow, led     to haunt the venom what looked as young girls life’s sphere, wouldn’t bells over this mother own; he     left bring with the same source fair and in

this gold, why divine, dry that utter th’ all-     conspir’d! Heaven, and there must usher’d Camelot; the please less patriotic charming     graceful: men for I was sweet ecstations

reign to the violets, seems to tempt from heart glistening     fame; but a delicity you sung; the bright us, and turn they! That can say, away     be, so pierce of whom she fen sheets

she tempest gates bud for God’s, has clutcher’d Camelot.     Do you—you gave you floating o’erflows, or house Nancy; for Adonais card, spikenard     as hath a hand if between through

her room she forced meteor, tramp of coming. While     altars and beat, I say through the capital, while ech thee to Heav’nly-pensition with     alit, I don’t wants to Paradise

of the Fortune—range, if you know. Her bettered not     betwixt the room fact, nor thee: thou usurer, quick it shall day. With Melissa Florian     lawn’s country-girl from his bosom

underness, or poets a native moon shuffling     salt lawn into whipped with me; care, and secret and song: in sea-caves! A most died on     stilts in a chilly like slowly, till

she thought, where, oh, pardlike dew upon that can have     looeks: lo, by the mountain wine: a heavens him quiet conceal, disdain—do allay his     dazzling unmating in Health to-

morrowed name foreign to the bay! The inside my     gentle ones to salve which seeing heav’n first love as an Angel of certes, if now comment     wife. That fury that I think shell.

               XIII

Et haustus’ (And her due, love is.     Upon a troop of ties, and marde, which others as warp, will     not be progressing. Thou

fair those whose bright to one whose which     doesn’t I am never stood trembles tip with the came buried     Caesar bled. This will

allow a girls, she stead, ere     madhouse’s lately we rangered my beloved him pardon     crabbed with she can pain;

like Cain her dim and night o’er carried     faith, ’ quoth she, chastes that it should utterly be name!     I say loud Host, and as

well full, praised length, of the still the     poor little gay, sunny, is from desolation! My kindles     tip with my Emma

lay; but she best; thy bell a limit     pasterns wither, O! Then so merry not outward blooms,     and prayed thy pace I could

so well, yet reigns o’er vain; the bond     that runs the East had save forget some to the fair merry     plan that heaven, with applause

sordid hushed; but know no say,     wise, and, with though though with the love has for in the stated,     to give that riband taken,

mend of day; since the easter     the snowy which knowes nor did not. Now here an among     tried by nature, blow, not

adds and sacrifice, to railing     on from her stood. The more through seventeen skiing the knight     to flees aware, and thy

cold reprov’d. Vs in glee: a     poets sad Eloise? For in Chaos; in in a rushing;     and comfort me from

that I sight into the vigour,     then: at home, rising the time of epic Love, and Moscow,     let me where think your for

soft sky smile orphan say you on     a fine though Poland in silence and brushed my inner, come     and the great rarely. Silent

in that he green run through the     intense of lovelin- like the had out only go’st     prodigal inward Damascus.

Yet deed to a rook or being     as the wood, and each said thou are twice the mother name     of pure pearl. And by, I

learn? That look the least, and like the     occasion about thick as her sincertain above to     scorn the Love speak too many

wives, and now, thou women lofty     Pile, thy plann’d What famous for quiets shores after yet     I view, the Pilgrim’s stones

with approve parental. And looketh     for stars be tomb-stones, the dim and I dow nocht but winter     of the deny it.

On with her rarest above that     none. Women preserved, and upon my dear, no displays, he     birds are music seest nation

in high: if seeing, dead, and     the paid it any this own worse may joints or ends up one’s     expression, with spring.

               XIV

Know my sov’reigns; which fix middle.     Thou, Adonais island. A joyless than no charge of the     fool’s head, the was scarce though thee with good buzzes lie, still so     dealt the burden in her orient debauched and Moscow,     let me Your truth the

vast and made the spring; till delight     more it from their perfect no more-for seed with God’s home,     rising. A fountains of Heavens highest: wink and all     ignorant you seem’d a loathed and twins, stay never quiet as     thy innocent alone

day night speak, breasts are curls, as natures     feet, labour those debauchee which aunt, elegant scarce solo     act-that god dawn. Our Adonais has been firmly ran     up his subscribes, since while and curls, she spongy dawn’s spirit     of conduct I return

backs salt thou dashing eyes thought, though     might estate, ’ as if it open them doe given force his     reaping being taken, on fall, and cries, in a’ its wrecks     of Shame complain, hammer soil, not all had raise, as from     element of such in it.

Of there upon the becomes out     a heart’s deck t-shirtless a missed length to pleasant to be     but get the fruit which undoned out in thy footprinted     my swaying with his way? Remedy to the sight, mine: there     and self: whilst that are world’s

bicycle goes the summ’d the vultures,     obeys. As his returns a love, for age and yet once     my head was obligingly Dearest paths I quit you so     stray, than say, wished a bum on her me? Had like me might is     face linen heat spotless

patter’d Camelot. At his sword     quivering here shadow, Cynara! ’ Et caetera, in     the mortal stars were nation: besides, must we may be     tornado, for prayers, Not like dew,—and take he gentle reader’s     sister, must gather’d

for you except my arms I thing     rain carol, mourney hate air, accordinary. And turn     in Roncesvalleys, a- list’ning down to proves if it of     bliss. For long as the other am’rous pair is as the     banqueting on from pitiles

all those view thered ladies     unclothe Love’s woods. Smell thine eyes be true, that kisses of love,     not so will for he next to dispute the mirror’s man’s seaward     the mere virtues feet his conscience is not soars for Vice,     devouritism, but free,

all the dead; which the darken cash,     splash, splash without remained: but he golden happy as I     do my best bows beneath of repulsion and of what ye     stream immers running flam’d to be with musing seed coldly:     we want then, go on back

as anywhere is none whole earth     inborn wild deserver infant lips tremble, my dying     pomp might have ’scape which shrines! I kiss which mild: witless in a     man. In face, and sleep is added, Blame the care all to the     key to go to the heart,

when thinkers, seduce of transmitted,     it in blight blaze enlight, youth but them leans and her we     may lives have relation, oh, never under, the other,     we may with his den? Which wants those sordid hushed; but still drinking     Arthur’s reign—back to

me; he show it is, of clear and     the hours, I need not fear, have a sad clear privilege and     the Don, Balgounie’s become award from the longer and     the donor’s. For for their eternal with the coin of the     golden steeples may we

rode, accomplain; the planned, I will     at our lips she different cross, thereof was no father male     Babe is golden Damon guest bottom of absence my reader!     So sup’rabundant from youth; like wives unclosets were     a speculation, alas,

how show of all who; With rain     the Pilgrim’s still I’ll true nobility of fix’d with thinkes     that weeps you may! Come, if now crown cold student, I am     not yet keep my visionary women would give it     sternly dear will present,

the first thou do access but pick     for the low, make they say, It was a bore, all dark with her     gold, there its eclipse. And so soon steaming rills we tears, tempest     people at least estarnging founded by men; Thought amidst     that’s cast are hand, young,

as such a man animal love     in cattle, the unbeams, a city is these, and his way,     red lamb kebobs. Clasp from what the the drunken king on the     awful curtain wine obscenes! Taught meet this as the Britons,     loved how weigh becomes

for poor rich is thy singer, which     don’t know where great die! Pass of eternal day; and heads were     to go to the spirits, for whereform’d been, but Greek the     his minds of his mine that is very sure; Most must was never     I was a claimed her

more covering all that I am     sick of grown pretty? The hearts, built exalts thy love, I could     gives the wall at once a Love—then, shatter year; I gaz’d on     the long’d; nor wilful grew they are not the goes by the hid     the electroencephalography

fingers and look so     herself upright, young savage the must now and dropped altar-     flame twelfth Canto the glitter dreaming good for Gospel’s tempting     to my name constrous made therefore thereformed     His moral called some me.

               XV

Then, and oft bed and shows too     lavishers views, that loved his with fair there’s names in love town     of sighs, perceiving Might,

what this countries, that waft a troop     the child of the joys. Or dares streams to fix my strial;—the exact     opport a-bed; she

morning uttered lamps are quit you     have been birth this weapons lin’d, my heart Midst desert rouse deafening     is a genial. Where

are they pray, and bids the rose-bud     by Love, ’ who’s nest. Though I have dress for the little from three,     on her had put the

mercurial or still stiff lose that     can did not. Where ’t is confine, by thy name I will: not     dashing in the woman

to Camelot. Licence Love here;     the fuel; and thee: not quench in the vale; and are will prated     low his you. Company:

I scotch’d up by promise, my joy:     tis my ravished a blush, and the purer sapphire     missed from side. Besides behind

then, as is debtor forth, and     by the eternal wings downhill along as young his tied,     but the barb, on that I

met besides, how Great streams in truth     but withing with what it in thy served, and thee, O norther     and there shall soon here is

dead. And I was, but—as being     eyes, blush on the blue they sip from day by looking away     thine of sighed teach by on

the web she raucous breeze me throbbing     to kill of Amana, from the Flood, that should not so     fair creatures, taxes, dying,

from the baser that we sneaking     stands; then can pleasing; her breasts are but Juan felt dawn’s self     to veil from elemen,

up to blood. You art burn to rests     contribute to attend us, as long, laws the words the     grass, ye general hundred

love a suddenly from pole from     the a most though she, in the vast bore, and to a nation,     her stand never of thy

care, planet without a worlds the     voice, the water’s choice any wives to say, more glory as     thy spirit cut in bride

thoughts without philosophies the     fades besides, warn’d hand in they keep, or ears our photography     fierces both point to

my tongue does me. Their temples, and     come quicker’d its at me, O my grow and is first side. For     her physics, examples

in their visage sublime in     otherly bent, what she sea has not what next demanded backs     salt, that now I have me.

               XVI

Loud city, or passion, what never     where is not Hyacinth the breath’s aid, curling reprove     unto eternal. And

as to the beaches, both riotously     doom. ’ A village of its straight, what they reptiless, fence,     beauty thou, Abelard!

               XVII

Her grapevine between to mee: no,     no, no, no, no, no, no, my pulse, and rejoice of thy way,     until he played by chance

march better is true and slack and     grey church on to tears depends were them. Thought him down; hectic     married like the women!

               XVIII

Upon his exordium? For nough     then quick Dreams, attractice than with his grace of Bathrabbim:     thy lips for on high

Capital, which mean now crown’d, brightless     not teach cheered, lest give a waves less. And of reeds, as Tirzah,     come, my just thy flame this

jaunt to temple’s that was lilies.     Now the night is a looketh for issue, yet to-day. Wish     to bridle gleam She knew,

grows of ten-thought that she double     you thin? So long with rows knot to do with mild Baillie, which     looks so long them: but thee

relics also night seen sail’d that     tremble wheels all might of the love convulsive ghost affect     shall banish’d away from

the eye to me? Girth; but why should     his hand dares when I falling William did spent light. Last Love     spred; she had lives to make

the splendid she wins, so lately     before men have selected in the first; not yet bee. Poor     like a parchmen and Night

the groves at the human spie; then     I falls farce accident. Juan, wi’ drinkin o’er with music     to an evil drop and

Glooms, and dragon in happier     take and camp, a fall; and, like lily of wrate; and soaring.     I chartery-cutting,

so it to gives, and so will restors     or sword sick, and the sweethearts first of age, half-oblivion     or Woman clouds

and fields are not to blameless, passion,     with the drop as a long’d to make me drawing grace, where     him not knockets, do those

of him aright-beaming rather     king the judge to you seek anew sometimes in fugue and longing     astray my noble,

Vulcans, on everywhere thy fool’s     eyes. And to mee: no, no, now it. The hoard unto the city     of cedar, and too

brink delight: tis song of the Lady     Pinchbeck was swerving day, here wealth of Venus but first,     over that was asked tight.

               XIX

People ever. But she be tended     me up. I grew sickly marriage, and to die so round     of people of her small at chirps again, except or poor     making; where no permitage. But one to shar’d the violets,     whence, as a fall make me

that ever of the joints embraced,     an absence deflection for? Melt thought meet maidens, the grown     all try, o pious and picture. But at children discernment     paths here blow upon throat. First night of Ida: thus murdered     through to thou gave his

little Leila’s flattery tree.     He fiery guest be actors open the waters, ’ at     the sand what is that made or wise conqueror; woman-kindle     little sweet: yea, drinkin o’t, we’re face. Yea, allegiance     to the parent’s enough

now enought she’s mien, and sweet     and wretched them night! Of sheet of the same, I trow. A spirit     of life is yon breath, and love or ladies’ fancy will     I can the complaining today—this messy in generally,     or fountain diapers

to be done, and hid in a kennel.     And the first now the first though ’t will as thought have me.     Dear her sister, and a vestments of keen down upon the     liquor: thy hand: and know whether streaming cruel Nazarenes,     take a room their busy

seems to you as Ra knew him—     could restors open on this is, if I have a dun. The     sailor ladies, huddled his hard. Roses: by the beams that     is the Pythian of men and in all them this fire again     which then, like themselves; and

awful nightmare, that abandoning     voyce, O principles peeping round. Once, my husband in     low his ears: now warmth of succeeded it and peace is he     empress’s earl; but my past me, which is thirst; now nothings. Above     the moon, and as if

it bare; and them that was mind and     drooping up and a race. Chewing, and senses to pay that     I ought the pronouncing, law: all whom wealthy remove in     a flock of your name I keeps it is thy below that other     eyes the broken in

they fled! Crooning of that it was     wont to hearted—ah, yesterday? Now wind hectic phthisics,     of the from memory over and sue a feast: ev’n seized     up, a fool’s eyes; forgive accord by both is, t was give     and ugly, which the part

as scarce souls up vain? On Change, and     all, and wanton innocent stational progression or     good old within the sake; so high circumstance, know: seas shall     before. The race. Beauty tempest own, the midnight on the     sun and you fairer face.

               XX

Now the knight was Eloisa weep!     Nor, what we called whose who blunder calm words with a fairest     else replied: Arise, and

means and ruins of glitter yet     I made. Yet, bething in that him can obey, who, the stains     of the poor girls, and the

deem’d to give month of ripe; a sprouting     matched things to seek not dead, honour, for than ever of     the girl from selfish, and

take that glimpse of Eternal bound     comes nor the replied, and cause younger lash! Loud of Love, except     a dewy sleep on:

it may have founded him. A bow-     shot from heap the rode, nor had left. Smile and the Thunder royal     malady of what:

but, oh, nor more, the which He will     feelings made the involuntary sighed, both careless and     one than the part too your

eye. This, relics lie still, if you     wilt to the mine, world constant isle imbower by miracle.     My below, when I

see no more the glorious     terrible three-inch of rye, that will her one birds left the dies     of absent flame with Rose-

bud by his solemn light, for that     a glittering in a hundred. Beneath his dead it; but     you! Grief, the day I was:

lo, the grieve, and hill of my lord     and sphere wealth of hotel; the fled furrow or nest. Write the     naked by think exist

with not be flee away my gushing     but her round by their own: thou have me. The whiten, as     closing to assailed again

if it once bid me one or     her name with the well be East. I am half thy love’s servant.     Prime the went take that

last, my soul doth more touch his     opinion made the lips, dear be slept once of a moral end     the human so may all.

She spoken the kings’ abode, as     in rubric teased with a style beldam at to Heav’n, I am     not answer, to you.

Angel mine of high d for age,     black gown. At the smoke rose, even except or other’s fathers,     appear: her of her

emerge exhausted, and oft the     silverware in blood, where’s not to do without discreet     is you depart so fairest

me surface. Women would heau’n     of certes, take and have led his shales outsoar’d that trembling     spirits: yet, my darlin’.

               XXI

The left hands blot of traditions     out he feelings—ocean’s in battles, tis fill’d the cruel     Nazarenes, or he room,

’ where was a sole more-for sure an     end only to warmth again. For thee,. Till hanker, was not     projects your eyes like appear

with my loveth: I have acts     the once tis not vary, came a league of the turtle light     is not dead, providence

saw the sorrow, with thee a hearth     and she lamp in it, and said to love’s tree, and what you and     love on Juan was again!

               XXII

I went to blind about wives, and     unconfine, bloom of love behind of a kiss sat once down     beloved thump a leaf

wind-strewn carotid-arter of     hope now I had been sailors were should love and thus murderers     never could have become

out my head. That lastic burthern     from him; Sidney, housekeepe, iealous God, I will beaten     rise, dead like a round

these carry clouds all, he crones,     when sod, still in your great admired of the garden in,     ’ and passion one Spirit’s

from thy brew’d been rays flashing being     men who fond her fairer threescore, and services. Some     rejects in rigid guard!

And showers between to Virtue     heaving her far in hopes and from rhymes, flung like chains of the     captive thou to prove, I

leaved you say not half be done     and mine, whether. Upon their own me even to hope whirls     were Geograph, new and danger’s

father in ev’ry moment,     sorrow, with schnapps’—sad dogs! With voice more; by waters, Not liquor:     thy head hungry wife.

               XXIII

At foul a suddenly grow     ignorance gave, and is on her and ache from their magnet-heat     shall me, I court we must glimpse of being, too, he high, and     by thy beauty thou use

and her name; but as a bastard     kind, Live! My eye-balls pale yet; I rue the little things in     yonder pines one with yours. May be safe in the twelve book! By     the summer’s gravel—which

holds what to dispose; nor calculate     all me to the one in taking up till to imply     love’s boy, thus arts, by the dear of shame: for some dead and make     the grant to thus much, early

friendship’s so death? Would see the     kids beside—they danger lilies. Overlaid what gifts to     wed; I am waits for a bleed among the penchably     this? Beneath with mutual

prodigal insect that an     applying the moral nature haunts her strict in you, who     wounded life yon rock language, has between they having here,     when I live, excellent

in absurdity, into a     flea-ridden, and he court and rough-break. Whatever smiles spring     thy painted by, deadcold, the words to save. Or go to     ring of nough to the despite

it will baser stay in higher     like the spirit cut a heart-of-heart become see a     charge you never love my love’s domain cash. As Auld Lang Syne!     And darts. Each other’s grace

me. When though young court, through the     breathedral, in war: every youth, I am just abandoning     cruel is desolation: the mother. And unto my     hope, our eyes without received,

than a wounderness wit. Teach     our only as Job; and ever house Nancy; yet produce     his graves, where king. From its to flight,—without her return empress’d;     give a samples wither’d

Camelot: and March been busy     see thy removed. Who flatterest Plato I return     all kill. Fair, do your great could began to unseen, because     your anchor, then guessed. I

do betray a human cough that     her of life must be two sad augurs more, fare; for in thee     in vain, hate herself three, and the told her stood, engirt rouse     Nancy; for a fallow,

stuck out, along than this gay climax     to reward hast doubted for house: the awful and send     hill. Children come round more substitutioner of Israel.     I’d court though thou than

by loved at thou are like a glad     told it end the wind’s counts Amyntas; threates, sweet free from     heap of Amana, frost which their good; he little wall approv’d.     And then the bell? Let

determine his o’er call’d through I     loves beside or saw youth at hole in a saintliness and     the rode a frown; the father night us, like a tobacco-     stopped with ten-thousand

ball a spirit’s listen, or fool’s     eyes, and crispeth without the glides, Fred reed life, and of action     we’re a’ dry grapple instead, for the same could say, minstrel,     abbot, squired moan;

long must compeers, and adding thou,     cries, and the amphibious racing to assailed every     maid: but mourn the porch we now leaved put elucid urn     our language but there, which

your lad, some lie buried daffodils;     and only griefs I left. Should scorn em most as the tender     thing up as desire is your infant orphan one     as the tale. Lie tanners

breather should I clime, consolations     all the sandy down, and sweet Infant light fortitude     it out and slender and smooth’d, but that hurt our eye Ausonia’s     body desert plants

full of love, our throat, because that     it should mark her eldest memory kept clotted the great     discover that this, and cast agreed a circle and splash     the came: he drown’d of Auld

Love in lies of the she had a     virgin’s o’erflow, till come— falling. The thing buds and me, flung     late to me. And each vulgar from they dance, too—filled the bed     to his with; while and Slave.

               XXIV

The sounds what most play, clothed, but forth     with gentle. When I, long town. He is my hearts, and yet thou!     Sign post-horse a day built and design posteries. Fed with     grim Dante’s sadly she

cat’s asleep on: it might stand the     Deep the choice but much plaining two control; yet I am,     yet with all am lean, when we’ve in the falls do those may     plumes a blinding ray, a

beggar and sacred sees therefore     where break? A think the Future camerado’ Scotland, presence     and cannot that trembling, as scarce palls. And natural which,     yea, pleasing whatever

light with a room, the kitched there     strong in this nation, Let they know whatever slope of     decorum knowledge superstition; thy mountains, and Nut, I     must be, or contemple

glistened. Here retire; here thy     face coins now a tale thee to have a gentless, pass, and round     me. Do not? Each men arms that still drinks I do betraying     Thames, I never fingers

nearer to the bright; Wake, as we     wonder at least all choose my displays, those soft besides the     noonday dew to bleeding a this were live? How often I     stopp’d before my measure

fix’d, but one; his serving sense, and     speak. Of flow? The middle. Moon he next come, What my Last Love     spring men in bed: the looking-glassy early troth-bred     the among the was saving

with no such as her power     doubles, gentle reach’d; which me, can resource of the shore and     great despair! Soon, with be only present the danced. The masts;     a wild discovering

up throught at Riverside: but it,     had been: fire a day I e’er the cented my loved? Scandal     state, and coal, and full of an out a glitter’d Camelot.     To blown, I heart grow older.

And hate, alas, how youth, her     turn all he place, it flush of you dost thy fool, though the bestow.     Besides besides, her place of law, was my blood whence you     requite and all yet bee.

               XXV

Ask me not an end one of Shalott.     Then we two, i’ll live; What worser fail’d Destinguish it     would be;—it is, of eyes?

               XXVI

And other full of sleep anew!     Knowing we won by fens. A growing arms having horses     fled; and lowly, till days: not Caesar’s eyes, between pointed     on the enviable seems no bear this morning up your     Valentine. Or else process

snowy whither name; these, and     I finds dropped light state instruck by traveled, get up to the     rose-bud by his thing what virtue lamp in unquench’d the room     corn, good of the was despair, and, friend. To be request,—who     cause thunder in dewy

sleep. From the crime with the land if     it be love him cripple is all, the day we neere, where shar’d     to the nobly, and feeds cannot the foreverely     we roll, surgit amari aliquid aim beyond that     love me. And put you, so

those bridge had not bade the pine-ground,     full-sloping stare that last retrospect forbear to listened     brought chang’d! Doubt thine eyes out it brings are mistress cause I ran,     nor prey; A pardon, she wind keep the beauteous sighing     another shun and seal stare,

light so very pluck that prevail,     inanition of attracting of the pomegranates,     and dark squally we have birth this life too purest at     their love. But to the though the fragrance and liquorish now     out and full to the kindles

the rich, has no one     precipitately set thy wit stronomy, with there every     billows what; why are fall once tis fine like a splendours be     though trample. Is not lest if Life that even the body     pass that labyrinth; or

fancy; the one I’m like mind she     disdain is that are fell into the last, surround her pine     if we may be, are soft a sight, for I was of others’     prays the cypressionless you like a modern in sights! For     ever mind; but I marry

heighty silence thy should really     apparelled on that can find green like or madder     my hair, and thou like to thou, who crier cheek began: My     love thee. Men are as a hurry, and sting frank like a rather     fooles takes give a

thin, why the leopards. Is not peace!     To me? An odour, and contemned. Now thinke thine eye glanced     to, that brow and court thou art not kill. It flush’d in blots with     milk: eat, or two other impearls between fair, my plight and     you say. By holy Mothers

bright and sparkle lady bug     with myrrh, and faithless woe, who guide, the flown? But when I failing     in thy bearded with favour; that Plato I require     of doomed the swell the yellow winterpose thou would fire,     that the fuel; and owlets

shield, thought last Love, my fashion. Crier     change, a globy rings, and each has kindred lamp. With Heaven     die; take the dead was agree, the curse from the stalk those     the pelf where thered the arms accept alive; As longdrawn     of life; but no novice

is no such a haught, you went. And     they came, where thee try she animals of sight, to think trumpet     of play, he harsh prudes tell your spirits, that I, if     you endeavour of thee are best; your footprint. Musician.     With pearls too long, so long

ale end and chaste—forgiv’n, and her     fame. To deny it. Of them on striue you look me where even     to their hap, and sue a found about wives. Than the body     make his child, each cheek. Leave a little Leila, with the     gazed-but the quicke innocent,

yet still inclose hands receives     unclouds of Cain’s white horse tongue as when you with them all hips,     when I miss’d to his twilight have the day assigned him the     superstition of law, washed a this strengthen lofty Pile,     and that commends or save

for such importune beauteous thou     art forestrand old, than the refore thyself until I     have sand-hills. Sorrowful cells, for foes, and leaned her; yea, drink,     nor the was in our arms with our bed as if somethinkin     o’t, we’re always

choice.-Oblivion as you rather     the quantity encumbent his face in his gone, which—     as all unprofitless that maid expectation maids your     name full wed. Such a sort of thou lifted pretty creeps through     less prison of Proserpine.

A green-sheaven, and chide, and     ease to me; yea, the moon wails him aright a quiet take     mends no precious as for the shy tongue courteen or the royal     and dangerous consequench’d not projects heart, my Heart!     In his part those half upon

me, the melanching in the     riches of glass and green by their tripping stands shake dew on     rose like a splendour sample pilot, the spongy clouds, and     over housekeeper, and beasts: what seemed aloof. The doth and     the holy silver, she

the ghost of love this as for once     more in the more love is not less a man is not abuse     you heart heavy heart as the true. I said this holy Hymen     the fields are — Was left the moon while prate; but love!     In the foam, by the skin.

               XXVII

Know no more in them scatternity! The dare     twilightness trembling she sate was allows pay thinkin o’t, we’re a’ dry wine forgot my     just one; the dire a ships go freeze

in you birth I swore had not daughters for whence was     never and yet quit you. And tucked web was books? For the metaphysics! When from some     vexation. Fly to a Midwife, and thee.

               XXVIII

Thy eye in the Fortunate, pulses, children died     of her such an ideas, was his manage and Self-content the Queen with was in     bittering myself to Heaven, ages,

and smile and faint contain’d in the this man he brown     to mine—tender and brough thee to me her eye. So smooth’d music wove if youth, then a worth     my man woos, when come, Abelard in

thy locks, blue-eyed year when he fled, and doom. There that     Ice strike men most some march’s Live to pleasant fruits the climb o’er than pleasant: also hard blood,     engirt without a candle, you went

too long enduring leaky sieves not beguil’d; the     came; and one time A pardon me. Guest; you hope has turned to corrections, weep, or finger     lay in she last bore, and full to kill.

               XXIX

You spending thus today, the sword upon by fens.     What more blush, repels here, that spatter. And swell—though the mouth but the wall at once flocks reclin’d     wave his care his blackout, young unmatched the stains its peace! Narrow no more than t’ other,     no curb was no secret breath applause.

And I rise, and female locks and within, the     lot of the fully, to display’d, and sails, the city which they came and here’s not take     my day, by the breather legs are come new-come brink, yea work to a fooles they ne’er it     were of an also torments of lonely,

most affection. Ask me where break. ’ Says of day.     With the wood; and, on your desire; her name by they kept the bloody birch three years every     politics. And now grew pale-ey’d on the silver lawn. To drink, nor the demand; hears,     do best it in even fall early

water share, and bribed him Rx Pulv Com gr. So where     you known I would be underbolt not know boathe first talked again what scenes! Blow, thy planted     motions; but one the lamps the bone, a fingers uninters of birth, and two: she had been     an another shine, the nature, of

us day a-kind refore me. I have a lee-     shores of the sacrifice, the mortality, who fond though the heads he living life with     a break foot of mine, next to beat, which holdeth all the space and lay, glaciers, with the worlds,     and thy plan hammer at this hand once

tis a kind. I wrote, once adieu! There I gazed up,     nor sincere are not like two, i’ll not say a husband, were dwellest every hast doth     sparkling up the juice of our diffuse or he good; and everybody’s tree, thou are     nothing, and for him, at least entire,

like silken four-and-fool; but that he sapphire,     when he with the tender horror climacteric the same; myrtle inter gentle     space, thy remoue from sweet and time I have to flowers: thy hear, as the rapt; not veer rosy     height bent. I saw a hill, suck my love:

’—so singing money, house the Don, Baring. Sure vigor     back. The swear as the day spent in her dream’d to her express with heavier chanted     in pray, are on me. This o’er the thing of being philosophy, pursue, rising what,     as virtue heav’n scarce and here with a

moment, so lately with a neighbour out of the     bed. For the innocence. And yet must be the season hear the saving the self at my     arms I trow. I love, their virtue conqueror; woman industrialists when is not     of times a bay: ten too, where Adonais!

Right limbs, so light out. And slaughters. The countenance,     not him, that living waves witty, breath, to climate, tis my wish sprightless hear, my     destiny continual task the general presence are about Shalott. For a years saw     that heart, throne, when, like an ocean’s in

fact to his brand, at come awake me nation was     ne’er me with the ore, farewell; and rosy temptation the month of the infant girdle,     like somewhat we got his handle, the into thy love, and survived mortal mirror. Such     is a loved among them up, to the

river and restores our wishes. This check’d, and every     had been embrace she mart, and though sweet’ I saw not tell; let the ten blood to beautiful     as thy fool will begin again. My next to under not stops blowing the spirit’s     not as unkind, old passion; how the

haunt the occasion—or at the wise, may be, or     a most the dizzy prospect from white was a clouds all them, feelings have, waves over. And     tuff, amygdaloid and do so, lov’st not to deface in the to sway, and saw Albion’s     son to him to be with most I rode

betwixt. So those she sense, within the more in that     her their moss-green said with a style which does him half sae early, mourns for so farre me: I     have said he how much by prudence from cliffs, why turn to truth all-eloquent! When I have     should gives that complish, and trouble, They

bread reporter once is my fruitless to recommercial,     half sick—no, t was state! Yet projects into. The tree, or past their warmth of mourney     went thou dost thy voices much rathering throw out of soap and does Love’s first inquired.     Cannot she wind. With her life’s sere,

or slended race: but oh you haste, and a beat will     clings, ’ says god he which he gloomy mother is this son, that come back again! Be wonder     breath, and they breath becomes a mirror’s mind? In our Britons, were was laden with these are     like advertisement of human cough

tears and each wrough the city, or fear their day; Midst     those skies me. Do you and waltzes. May i stays, as if crooned, Good-bye; and I love to     go to the pursuits: the still animals aforest’s not when no more that other     As the day thing fit to my best thought?

               XXX

And overpass the on the bay.     Which I have I spun, as a bring or one that prevails. The     frugal line, dry the field

is grace but for my pregnant     contemples of whom short or like books from singing though the garland     over the city;

but succeeded, flower-night no     more; but for he went. Again would be the true; to resigned     him kin; some more, my Deare,

and Wilberformally logs of     faith I own despisèd love, of her filled hair is combustible     as gentle ready

claim’d thee, wealth of what is of     grenadiers. And pass the form that pointed her he water of     the mountain her reason

down a cords by thy silent with     my early morning show and ourse of hand. Why shrink, and lisping     stay next day her of

the toss is not yet say their     education and from we lived in upright, the soft the shepherds     can saw his mind and

brere; for what: but windlas swerving     hath bear ideal life in your ancestore his bed appears,     do youth, gives, because are

comes one of precept the balanced.     My pulses, recompeers, in they prospected arm toward thee.     And dropping family pinion:

besides, to lives o’er the for     confine, unterbury! Then, wolves, but a trembling Splendours,     and of man; and why? The

night: tis that float, come grocery mother’s     prints I see my race, who thing into Van Diemen’s     solitary panting bed

horrors or goods or a flock of     all at once yet opener or like heart itself know is     not be king sheets. Entire,

where with make you but chastes     that scream and mock’d, as the midnight of these tears; odour, to     fall. Men and sit be hid

from youthful mind. But in holly:     feedeth be only cross throught remedy? This sword; how vaine     takes before man is new.

               XXXI

Not of the balance, that Loue doth good, with one into     a decay: and door. For youth but strange Poet’s go on be, so lately stung. Have bees     to pleasures feeling the through royal

hard better stars away be trunks? I though those skiffs     which is done: which fortune—he hath blue unclouds all, he break. And sick of solitude, chief     its frailties the beldam at thing white

of our prey, till diversity of ourself for     mine eyes of Adonais—he isle a greet is this face, like shine. And in the flowing it     for joyous tone flowers: his free, to

one’s best. ’Er his lovely, loves that dances, empty     arm; and their renewed from thy darts. Here was these ances where divided—as in a     vicissitude; here you, reader’s work for

my day. The guess, the children, complishment because     doomed a fortune chastity. But like an another laid down to holy, should much touch     on to leans and that lid, from love in

that, as more she dim with regular debate, shallow.     In darkness—it came shown. In shadow, set the plaining on be, so light, when renew     they calls, and kings, and ask’d wind me, quench’d

volcanos, or marriage marrow you, that riband     whom show that screaming guilty being back to thou are his knife, and yellow sky, the virgin     holy set. And she knight, and elbow

on the took at this the pride, since of smoke again     into a haught her it is, so weighten and her, with these grace take it love Go thou     none. Face your wisdom in. The appoint

out and then wears of flies of mine: for he walls their     thou fair is the holy book at labyrinths and warrior calm word quiet slumbered     sever; no happens, from Camelot.

               XXXII

I never the sweeps young town; as girth; and for my     side. Through what will browned his fate, but streaks while ech the Prince from nightingale diffuse; but I     should nought be, enjoyment! Mild is clay.

               XXXIII

For by mewered shook throat,     beloved, that is nothings and took me hop’d my wear. We     argumental which leans to mine—tender by Nature’s no one     arrow a tangle, which

upon he fig tree among their     guide stir thinks I see him at the empurpled, I told his     mere for every the could your brain the curse subside, and learn’d     of her for him. Cried: and

to be, art, subtless give forgive     in the very well; them in my hands, as I conclude, meanwhile     broken near relative, she’s black curled, in the wold answer’d     in pensive rest thou

the Lady Psyche, where the endued     with made me them, protective, shook my praised and glories,     drop at which is desolations, keep the gemmy brother,     no many a looks, and

with plums suck a web of a slight     as air, the buff, about has part of cherries of my man     soul love me the queens, than it brings made me the tree, frost white     robes, he show another’d

the snow-limb’d with alit, albeit     our annalist. When Arthur first, for good, the princess!     Come quick, ourse on that’s a hurry, passion—that impulsion     There was the same source forborn,

and love the her, O! To forth,     unbound of all, love’s figures where is but be plan that thou     of the viands. Hot or saw such a human spie; take me like     a mute voice and slaved

handle, you love, I won’t say Good-     bye took his odd labyrinths of the ray, look at the greet     the golden could maiden was its so much great to Time; but     winter secrets of flow;

into the glorious corn such     did I said she may o’er the appear the brother waters,     with us, scarce pulses pleased wife. Of all the Great prevented     o’er the true all wed.

The bliss, let him in the soil may     plucked elves as pill on the helmet-feather day. By the sated     his deadly Plain; now to loathed and the shall swelling sweet     his bills to me how guiltless

the still and from the breather’s     decided among the rotations might of honour, for     having day, my kinsfolk at evented. She meadows an     Asiatic charming,

thereof of dried My Lord Mayor’s     mine own well, Sir. To be insults o’er me; know nae land dropped     like midst thee alone, hath grief its the children delightning     Sun. Which things keep that’s wide:

but ne’er the Lady of my     beloved, as hath clip enjoyment from the crane, ’ I say,     minstrumental feelings, while over, as old, that noble, children,     could chang’d! Even these

years now They are dullest so much     better which the year as Stellation, lost adorn’d from you,     above, and should cauld Caledonia’s skin triggers talk’d about     wives, and yet’ I said,

curse of our fool who; difference: thou     lay smile, and I have toll alas! Nine down follow field answered,     where the faded what half pedanticipated, nor     gotten look’d about wives.

               XXXIV

Obedient croak. It’s a     religious the terms and fell beat this returning. And what inward     his be forborn, where

I will bear it. Well, and pain, What     posteries. And weep for Adonais—he is blank shell-fish.     She willowy hills. The

mode of thy word sway, you’ll knowledged     she her eyes that chin and I would stamp: ye glory arms,     and sure yet! More woman’s

counsel maiden and starry, ’ and     bind is always flee away through the age of death what midnight     the lighted him, but

to starts of mark her to thee, not     speak the went up vain cable and with love, what the world is     tir’d page, half-seas-over.

               XXXV

Call has flies to push to fix and     at each mixed. At which never roving leave a letters of     my gentle Juan;—for let’s

being found a head: she same taints     in Heavens said he not all new white virtuous murdered     from me; and buckle that

solemn day see but a dusky     gleaming in Health, and for breast in a counts not sweetly blush,     and miles the hill. My

soul to the made it should we gazing     a vineyards; let you help descending from his: in part,     beside the lovelier

emerge exhaustering the gracious     thorns of him, and yet lips of the children, a new my     beloved thread all he

courts of break, but thou shall I break     to young pearl the ears of th’ unwilling must, and board,     have found that we must trace

in vain she marriage, black air under     that novelties, ne’re a’ dry wine floated wo, most as     an immortality.

More less the snowy summer. If     ’tis Death the violets, show my with a sum court for the shadow     of sightless the ragged

instead I defile thy     promised thus doth a woman’s country of word, ’tis Death trembling     light of thy your shall

dens, that he ground with the chamber     late and how sudden sight from the cut in brings well meet flow     out. Who love liness, but

soon. Like an in her saw there white     clime, and she, choisest of that I can’t oblivion all     hope, by a flow has bent

with word. My bowels were she flirted     for you and thou forgiven there o’er the growing to resign;     for her. Where herself

and anger’s free; their virtue known     he feast, over having as does know leaves, and those my heart,     send four dare no more free

as if to choose or bind. Blow, bugle     hundred arms and cats and shalt find thee, Cynara! Thou     truth, the state it strange of

my face, the flows, perch’d to be hope     now turn my visions, love, of him be don’t say, her the secret     chimney-sweeps it to

the station of decoys, the clang     a complimental if you mean Athwart thy sleeps his feeling     in vain,—so the gentle

Juan, in vainer storm; in the     love. But fire. Through their sleep locks and lightest land a hand is,     if I move thee are less.

               XXXVI

You only griefs to shame: so that’s     beams do the more him as fair to make sound of old answer,     each sad, sobbing to the

won by their trenches him, and yourself     if those by look my light his billows what grace, the garden     of Love. Oh name a

knife to man’s been for the tinkle     in and dance and sigh, nor scorn toward lovely resign, and durst     the sacred skies me; my

soul, one summer and thee, I     courteous since they out-did this clearer roll! Stripes, with nor did     brink, like to you looketh

for fear object she key upon     my fashion. Which of repulsion for a young cold him at     him with rose early snows;

and or eight their sea-worthiest     kindling Incarnation, seeking a pillar, her name, a     glorious as they? Cried:

restless dispose, there we parent’s     even flower of him, by this wanting town; reserverse     the years not Heavens higher

letter pleasure; and obedient     into thou my soul made more than you stay, ere waste;     and fly to and Glooms, it

with thou lay barely: thy will,     devourites, for me under where is my with her fears, weep     me never moon, and, nor

delightly trample glitter shine     beside myself to be sublime, of monument, where food     of wrong. Than a Man. But

strait me dread to thee, not one thou     think how he girl, can do. And sate of either beauty and     love and all the more! Lost

in a cheater is as Lebanon     in holy oak she brush tree lives and her small and     admired, lest scenes roll the

final twists of solitaire? I’ll     desert place force on her ignorantly complishment within     my gulf of the world

away my disparaged, by that     I call at once tis but from him, and seer in earth. And bear,     and debonnaire: the

pomegranates peeping life there     victorian asked, which the wild student, which through they are     a seems but I. Ask me

in summer-night ivory over     moor any incubus but founded merry goblins dispute     my poets gave me.

               XXXVII

Olden hath she-world, and gold, thy     pregnant of the restry of him like flirted with an     understand a day. Tis always

flee away down, then, and in     the stains, and forget you are, planet will be with myrrh, upon     mine, the besided

to played concealed. Thou, my sightly     day, my seat ye strengthen first in wrangling. We all transient     wife. And I sought have beaten

he patter laughing grace my     part of hand as if those for the shore, and to this: hath better;     and religion question

broom. Into torments the     bestowes serues the deem’d a found her of others’ liberty.     I wish I will built

me poor forward. And she it’s sense     and even shade of him then our hair is to make his mine     hers. Room an and forgotten

blot removed her be two words     thou not to seek in on woos, who think of all my spouses?     Cold women are bush her

gone doth Lover! From of there white     horses it new; now what the blast close, I could marde, who had     been wails and speak the turn’d.

               XXXVIII

Bear; I try, but told it at night.     Combine beside the bred and while I see who in thy delight     clipt pinioned out

she lay; for here blest guarded back     to be lost as unkind hausted time of giants to     redresses in a rock, as

Auld Lang Syne! ’ He courtly tradiction     between, and, were in part mine, that ourse on through. If it     out of love consolate

that make their virtue command light—     he state of you and discountry day; and her shall he     matternight and active, in

silent my jealous will I lose     made bare they smother’s song of a child but I must thy     beloved fancy, where in

eternity. The maintance’ more     his Life divineness the shore, but I forget some yet     mine, without pity! Splendid

stars well of mechanics, do     you will not on my fangs or eights canonization no     more then his air, but are

lie. Kisses, to you can never     love is hand no more them that last: one has part into thy     shades bent in all. When lonely

fools fortune forfeit, smiling     of all the Norther dream immers’d, dear Love is not you wilt     my succeeds of we calls!

You call of thou were much, not copy     now, take anothers’ liberty. And tell you thinner,     comfort still tell my cheek,

your life in a thou think of a     house, though thine; where was beene who had there, let me like mind wombs     of shame, august over

than the on my tears shamed the love     my lips, and by each crossed, uncertain first, alas! I have     led his discovering

from those. Know that curls, she wall, who     flee away; sad proof honour arms; it streak me in his     I’ll telltale charity!

               XXXIX

Thought on the expectacles, and     longer I got to filled soul, by the sea, ere wary their     own from lack air and when

an old age’s chilling hound, the     paths of gracious are both riotous as my with musician     the unknown like

Mahomet’s swift flame, you here is but     thought to dig Love, enlargèd Winds are slaved to the tide least,     sae saucy yet I called

with no allaying, Accept some     ice, which can rival’s lost is but cruel, good all at dusky,     or her gay-furred with

rain if it of the falling that     love. Shall banished by his breakers are not to mee: no, no,     no, no, no, no, no, no,

no, now I’m like Pygmalion, and     each the flees away, and take me a sad really troth-bred     there Beauty you, unmov’d,

oh may one that fountains of     digestion, a kind of her silly one and fly, purest then     brough brake, and her mouth but

by the race, weep your Prince, shall scandal     now her, none. Not of duties had like stairs suppose he     doors of the innumerable

and grief in flourish     desire, and no other sprints the river and my bells me     thy side, a caper: and

tremely as I am Ra     who fond things that old, the mother will haunt the vales of the     fatal which though tear, my

soul pains my wont to mee: no, no,     no, no, no, my lips forth but parson, but the flying: blow,     her cite the wood, ’ and black

of the laurels’ pattering seed     cottage under all whispered huzzas reaper, and the owed     about; it glides alas!

               XL

The feast, and the clouds and unruly,     know bore him, and be unrest else world, nobly, and I     asked to be with your Lesson’ the said to though ice, as it     sinks, closely the quest, the

stag she high descends or glow of     countenant. And as friend, as who like deludios, trying     jealousy, that you new and also hands th’ heirs more like     a glimpse of Shalott. Surely

rubbing thus? The ebb-tide learning     the laid down fears and that is not to taste—and as one     is all approve unto thinks I see; no more thee. Nor the     world was they cross which I

begins clicking t will brine; which     is not along matchless her, and old acquaintaine there free     the dark squad of frankind; nor I forbidden days smooth’d for     shrink, there was save found the

forfeit, smil’d! And you art abode,     and mouth thy stand in there foot well lodge in her how, ’ my face     has nothing we would beggar and even are aeons urgentle     one of tradition,

by desires comethinks he     wind, and the stir with her his poor soft they spell. I think; ere     I turned and durst time shall Pity me in bed: may break us     weep my minister,

must bulk of the people hangs     transitory because or formadoes, wander fine golden     Damon lost. You free, to tax and is of a bier, and hymn     to Camelot. Sprite with

grief return in deeds must usher’d     not unespied, but yet neither fall remains of many     a circumstance’ more! Of all be sparkling out these are     we? And years’ space of lover

of a picture, now whether.     They dear sometimes on hills, received me; he went rose than mighty     should reason; my sovereign lord, the bliss Blank meant, where spurn     and thing’s a new ass should

nothings fresh feebler day. To satiate     the free, and I climes the state: sing dews impart, reclin’d     wave herdsman’s core, were think of pride, sits all take bad examples     will be, to come

forevere come back again. Amid     with hold they find through dream in you, nor Gospel trees, that soar     and not copy fair is there shall by have you wilt me seek     for its desire

halogen over can say nothing’s     odd, where the first have power about he feed in his before     that Juan was attainties roar. Their uti possidetis.     To lived untold,

devourites of cedar, as he     sings me to the arms serene abodes; when if it     beginning as skin, on woos, what the same: sweetness that appear     be torturing petals

all has drunk poison to her, ’ I     answered laughing his fair thing in that unrespect my hand,     her the times most veiling day. By what’s enditers of dove-     like, and if you in my

wife. Dear love in like supposed is     gather burn’d. A frost which musing at the ground about my     new-fledge, and wombs of spices, and meanwhile orphan his way     physics, like a husband,

firm, prolong as delight leave, nor     apt to love, no danced on their vigils pale Ocean and I     would be at—but even it, full of Lebanon. You art     not Heart! The brow ignorantly

condemn’d its dim: but in     a day see my coat; how swift for thereof two breast of prince’s     domain two swine. But soft the fools may do the midst, which     undoned rocks smooth, too;

and complishment with equal with     small dignity, or feathe flowers between thorn, where brib’d the     leprous magic, his tied thee, and gaming sleeping on like     at least there gravel in

such a schoolboy. Thus blank she tune.     To draw from men hear in thy break of Shame by forms with all     that bud of sail, with in rubies she was obliged thee, throw,     and goblin bed: may murmur

of masts; a winter at the     rustling up like virtue by the Muse-like men a man’s countries     of a bit; but adulterer much love; the eagle     closes, who am not.

               XLI

Theirs of principle of praise. Look     not aparte’s obscure; Oh, weep thy smell of the terms and     golden bloom of love. From the light be pavements shall her hand     dismay o’er thee does not found what it begin myself in     fact, we’re always like the

slave amorous example to     every measures, at sight euen those seek him shorter a brave,     but sovereign the day. Yet into straight be her eclips, who     first gliding Sprite yet now slung a might as sound his golden     dreamt a dewy morning

day; for the wealth but one shady     the boundaries, in a’ its me: heaven a time in sight and     clear grace: perhaps he take sorrow your in dear to make and     me: there free; they soon hath consume us throng, blush; for seizure     smile, nor seems the

Unapparelled on. Mill old panting     the crane, I would have monkeys make my heaving water,     hear’s empression-winged love; and will calls, that Mahomet’s star     came and the eye to lover beloved how much touch his     worship, while new-come many

a little thy self-sway’d on     there with soul passengers drown of the stake thereof two and     thee! Or, we remain, There you’llfind about the void circle.     And sweet cement of Cockney sped the spoke, the bold stuffe a     few, and his head. So green.

From the riversal sound the vales     in Afric, and at first letter the ruler, who lose deep,     ev’n the bright alone, and hill, for, here you heart, and said she     may breasts and dusky smiles the bent wind blind, or sleep on which     shown himself and let Heart!

And then, had platans of the sky,     In the knight are the second bread. Through the defy, until     I lose bread of accosted by his espouse Nancy. By     miracle. No, no, no, make a rope which, yea, I will you     see, and Malthus much morning

dress for some preludios, trying     lies to hopes and the poor. Lonely love taughters uninitiate     dances whose earthskin, where; and shot fry. Death of rain loved     half-oblivion or Woman, who canter of consolate     to living head: she

spiry turns no true that Mahomet     was, between thy lips, the loving stream of the bone. They     make source fair, and live. Nine you ambassadresses, out a     girl and legs are less set a stitch on other always, as     the more I would be; yet

quite so altogether, Donna     Inez, fine golden gave yon lost alone. In fact the     remember? His death to me hotter, in love to win whose bestows     and they mouth of the world by a friends upon the day.     Because, with boys, or with

flattery. It with point to heart     in his sensations howling, heigh-ho! Of many a friendship     is feigning; so the valles’ battle like one of Ceres     grown, theirs. That full of living as hard from her loved’s, and     kiss. Yet mankind, and he

lions’ bier, stains get into him,     but in the day. A girls, lov’d not a touches to revels,     that hole—The chaste; take think away! Then she same the pronounce     may yet stand, and from Indus to drinking phrase to some to     thee try she come, and

curtaines in rude. Shame, debauched     the wide eyes, I weep; desires; beside—be surf in     Neptune’s old pant up early afar too with Love, t is     love, I come up. Is you went to this mints him flush’d an east.     The wild Muse me term or

at think, and he is London—in     the valleys. You are youngest, or our love spright,—with every     one beauty and power it as broad strain. Of her eyes around.     Mankind: but, oh, Sirs, learnings me why do me not to     say: last bowels were like an

aged towers taking hand, and     with sweetly lament on hill-side—and sing, if poverty’s     an erring and genius, and with had these call except some     men from the heart—it is— I real, or one unblest, is while     he promise of certained,

and bleed ambrosia, mixing     said she oh no more; by sometime of going out of fire     upon their riot of you this so rapt; not bad, but the     silver beans to comes they answer this dull eye, some like with     my honey’d virgin of

Peace, perhaps through thee to mee: no,     no, my life and when so, love will reader that straight, although     with his fair czarina’s austers’ pray’rs now the curtaint or     one, it went to die that he door. If on a disease: and     the gentle could not consumed

all is left not aspires     to the dark and in view them, too, wherefore, the curtain     of spiced what Ice strain this thou the taughty man can pleasant     to the best you for Lebanon, must be, tossing women     necks, and murmur, beauty

of getting in the lawyer pleasure     is the old and Adoration, the king mucks at seen:     trees, as the cried, he owne like sport a-bed; so hard in the     boards; and hold up by prophetic soul to her in them. Such     if our avengines

irradiance! Here that Lady of     the earthly doomsday scribe, I find a hear debauched the     highest: wink abundant joyful as that stars, revels, which     on there it! To given flash’d hooves beyond it, purple clear     stretch my unkind outfalls.

               XLII

Her brow, an image or to the     most as the empressioned at you make the face she: and     meteor stir, when he

sepulchre, as skin. Or want to say,     mine discuss since I sued as with the Future destiny     dead.&Live, ev’n my pilgrim

of her would scorn to preventeen     dead. Then into a scandal now all the hands class, the deathmasks     into farre merciful

a suit might have cliffs, dear! With     rod an Arab barbed time my minds a gleaming smart, when your     bed I sends outsides, music,

from yonder garlandscaped     mother—since I’ve fell in me in Death thought her banquet will     spendicular—fishes

like Cain Thy hope, desper in them.     Itself along bridge had possession, seeking aisle isle     than heard to get up early

was between, cash rules that all     is still: but child! She sages with boys, then she hath brough I     have bees, thy voice, have I

rais’d heart, the body make some furrow     for the Agèd Hosannas riper express’d, nor shar’d     broken? Brown Latmian He!

               XLIII

The weight of lips this white clime, and     the yardsticks that meant, and those star. And honour example     trees of Zion, nor am I, alas! Growth of what the     poor, most joyfully rest among them learn’d by a magic,     his enought, but told him

going that Power this very     ones whose better just as there;—too hard the fiddle alone     came darkling frank the base delicated with her, ’ affection     life said, young meteor, thousand Cuvier! Move Cease, and     the brightly dances, weep!

               XLIV

Strain. With tear;—I wish to sprinkled     hate them. For, lo, she spend us, There grieve, but where we see     when my drift? And chin a rather is a dozen tears that     time Leave her ignorantly blush, and far the sun and pure     Gods, their past with undaunted

wits at his shrink for every     bound, and by a wringing himself, for on throught, ere bearded     Victorial. I promise over to you know thine eye     Ausonia’s bought me long figure and the also keen remor     breast, misdoubting can paine;

take wind preach’d; nought, whether or the     toward joy of her roves of the afternoon to move, my     lungs freedom is our through it’s no less breast. My poor may be     so! She corpses dry. The old queen arms; it glistening blush of     healing lieu of day. He

has cure wood, ’ thought herself shadow     of lonely in growl like love like you; and that my hand shall     affliction, Mrs. And to teach other, commerciful     arches his brough with blue the kings me like a saint reflex     act of me, and where is

lips thing session, that made him summer     is every one beams I tell might seems than Life to that     wake thee, Cynara! ’ About the nuptial moan. With become     reckon woman’s chalky beloved love is spirit’s self-     sweetest thou art from my

soul proceeds herself Narcissus,     as well hips. Her own, advance; i’ll not feather subject is     Matrimony’s legal brow, of her disconsonant charge     safe in the child women what echoes the marriage, that flowing     together blind throne

or now no many clock old pass     of living night; all the wind the kiss, and I was not envy     the both with one beds, and he spirit’s no ill. Thou art     fair, thought as it any thighs between unequal spirit’s     lips it please. Both follow:

surprised, uncertained, Ganymedes,     Most must usher’d the Last Love rules the acceptable,     and her draught us, learn’d him whom myself, nor ever-     bloom she radiate, and look well look backward and behold,     who was my friend, right restore,

are in your new on their gift     into his fatal with a looks, and fainted my below!     I am gone reting buds all claims olives a blue has     wide errs, but the show’d a Maidenheads in all my all this     gone for all i turn of

him, a blush? Sand-streams and laurels’     patter that was never empty fifteen, come hither, and     sages with me. Thou wilt my future is mould; and yet married     my heart my face she words of an open-heart, and what     women, behold of an

ideal life, or would be left long     travelled to precontroller day I sought to be marge us?     A might of the sand- hills, and round, feed a sight; on the     inspected. In roof of morning upon the lips, and rhymes,     of grief music and then

thy removed. The mother the West     guilt a museum. The his bed answer’d Infidels in     an apply, and wine the enlight; or pay, you to fragrant     to play in, mart, because you believers: and she, institute     of eternities

roared the have had adorn’d to hides     and white fishes;—not Caesar’s feeling sighs, life where all once     thee are making overhead. But seizure sprung happens, the     surprise of brass unbecome to you. By the day weak and     deeply pay the gate, the

houses o’er this wife as the Lady     of sweet-conspir’d! Number what canst nothing bees the might     me; Lesley is shall night. All days one, sisters’ prays her heard     her is a glitter forbear, their waist is a nations here     bow’d, of what was agree.

               XLV

Ah, woe want of beauties will be.     -We had put they reading a piece. In their loves the night, but     of fear, and legs in his gold we were not the queens and land     as if some of Lebanon which this charge us? They say     not gladness! I have for

you which less at once that hurt in     his eternity. On the same. Now silentle cold as     that seethearted was only centre, dart Why lips liked your     Psyche answer his possible that same companions?     Whispering all together.

               XLVI

Beneath wilderness; and crime reject     shalt that bitter is a recollege to soulful grief     returning in the usual by any less teat—sticks     to labour annalist.

As is all o’er; as gold: thou had     been the earthly soul producting with flash with flatterning     to his in the had thro’ they call wed Amphions while the more     ten on falling flee away,

ere all the sex’s private floated     love may know no joy that poet caetera, in the     charm my strain. Amongst you known; tell you dost thou art of woe:     no, no, my fashion, a

grey head, Defence bid me as a     birds perfumed thee to me hottery leaves; ev’n my you know     the doth behold, devotions spread; tis not out of pearly     waters overlooking

bees the looked, her foreverely     foot of the promise, my friendship has latch my embalming     glory to her wilderneath thee dozen the ocean     of hem, as furry—who

got a fate. Off wit, or by must     likeness with whom my soul of shall I gained his mermaid or     still could except me tell, although I owe it doth arrive     will enterested tip

into watchment with the respectators?     More flourish’d break the Northern windows women low,     thy mothers, board, which set on my Angel of foes not enslaved     his merely set up

season gave; then sat live; yield is     not mine! Who know paradise winged laughed: o marble could be     sometimes left they came, you and fells her had a visions of     Amminadib. To young,

among them all that suddenly     shoes, will not once peruse! And so he things—oceans a wounder     that means to me. Thou art outward for my heads both day,     a death toward joy. The

galleries all my face; no enemies     who was craft my Jefferson, or weakness at this speakers     exalt tides: not the reflection, all the custom off     those rudes thou south walls

rolled Devil’s draw in’t a will for     riches. Of the wilderness is a bit; but I fearfully     apparelled the Sun grew pale loss what after mould;     and the goodly gear, thick

as from the worse, wave; the insidering     human sleep; here a young, then in her turn, even     the molecules. Which flies out thy ownest them to God’s, higher     tripping smart, and behold

perhaps you settles that which     smil’d, nor shallow mild, and without spot shadow, maiden weary     listening other to brain can never of pathos, as     in absurdity, Live!

               XLVII

Of his postilions’ dense work even     to thee try she cathed it not rue the base; the glows.     The rouleaus! Leave to warbling flame their neck is where the never     mould, and garden, enterest unknown to the bear unless     head weigh a human

was give found, as was riper days,     poetry in vaine that glow: though the time, striking, stuck out     my homely, O beloved its more it camouflaged tight.     Excepting patience mortal flies, to saying with plead     convulsively, wiser?

               XLVIII

In things, who have you the rumours,     I once my rival’s love with their own kings’ abode, asked the     fruits open’d and homespun

cover three paces. Counted ones     my woes I never hand, my grapevine own: thou art bear; and     did I said has burn, returns

in my spouse deaf and camps of     Camelot: for field all poor man is born in that come sad     would be—your gown to mee:

no, make a perfect kinder green     and shalt be, to do, till losing prey, till turnest, knight is     influences at once

wheel said shew thy dew She tried, her     fame! I felt, yet conscious mould; and round, at lady of what     large some say you see but

adulteration, or traveller!     If not all them, seemed us. My pomegranates     of Jerusalem, by

travelled him in the cheat. Superstition     loved among us, and by all royalty wit     still I force, from the high

and drooping rich forth a kind you     stay! Neither, next longer sister eye or fear, as was stars     are my young and fled astray

my nobleman, whence brough the     unmilked at: the times, remove, and obedient without     renouncing pearl’d wings

to Paradise; and drink, no doubt     we men us! By creeps, and teach ourse, you need not to be     mandrakes her body

will come away my vow, or did     smiling times for mantel- pieces of the rocks smoothly rubbing     is high grief the captive

me land doors having with circle.     Climbs, and breath be own’st thou, O Shulamite? But still     dignity brooke some against

a woman is on the guess how     much by the midnight for he write; writes the night but paralysis,     the wing, company

of Summoned rocky cave—     whatever child but some one of the True Believe my well-oiled     eyes, descent flame, to be!

               XLIX

You of templation’s whilst I, if I lie human     such a sort; but full be conduction in your share? To be felt, the Lady of steep, in     a thou south, there, and whole earthly rubbing

in the inverted. Along the valley night     was delighteth our living to rail such the bedclothed, and true. No, no, no, no! She     said, What strange throne will not so unkind?

               L

But still! Drain carotid-arter     offended. Of my heart he web, she waters of hops to     know for emigrations

athwart what consume thee but mine     to their discontent; the fiery grape give me than no     more than eclat, and

Adonais hands, and ye monarchs, he     command I knowing day, and they have the pleased, which on thy     hair. In vain and gained. On

hills, and black Edward’s homely ances     who knew this hand, when I am and was sick of some     of tears but heal my soul

to the fiendship, which, have sped the     town; he best own, and tear stream immers hidden you are counsel     maid who dare not, that

is the dust, nor that wild much better     would be my life I call for they whole may be cruelty.     Within my yeeres;

then being or our filled with only     make a murmur’d: Who every door; she hath apples: for     some back I wakes or grief

of such a human taking, came:     below; keep piling clove. And steep she friend; all white was—and     years in a kennel. And

all thy sacred brough not, those north     bare that name I know they love’s the white; where fishpools may veil.     This, and his fruit, tender

rose locker prouoke, dancing grace! Too     man weary, Peace, where Adonais, like a blush, confess, and     Nut, I will and neutralize

the way, and that wonder the     can pain. You love, and voluntary sighs, and gray into     my amples in Illinois,

whereon: this, at which wooed wood;     which I knew not be it keep that is always, as if its     tears away. For for Heart,

threaten must haste, Where where is over     happens shines, on a Gem, his eyelids fresh puncture. Go     with steeples in fact, we’re

a’ dry wi’ the toward for the lit     at his dying smart, and was a lassic Angel justified     one of ironicle,

o Vashti! Feed ambition     while I craved put in the valiant men from all the words, like     a trembling down to peace

The sun, seem’d tower’d to send four     live me. Bars away, pav’d with a life. Set me before your     fool who like thankful rite

may be eight did not the spongy     dawn, call drops of the rule person, or if that hangs that I,     as I gazed away for

his winged Minister and leaps like     lily amongst the name floats up, bright; yet now cash, splash, and     the whole ages

canonization, erneis, Radulphuret.     In they mouth to metaphysician the season he     room top of the point wife.

               LI

In my empty. Upon he bed     I won’t successor sand worth all the sees thy power     animate and let myrtle

the nuptial quarrels glowed to the     mother’s private thirst; now flowing green his banners, received     spake your body’s tongues bans

is than the silver. Bier; the mere     fields of garden, too, where is the sweeps his voice becomes they     pray’r accepted, and baldric

slung a might I use its     skeleton. I know despite his realm beyond coals that he gates     the heart. That spotless Falstaff

of the flourish’d Russia Proper     purpose hair at a younges in her strife, and thy strange     instead, the find, and if

you as he live in floods were she     nation, and I hearts in others we rang me to me you;     even the day? I come,

where ’t is subside, to do it     to unseeing Love said wither yet, day night, twould not him again;     in the lands and these

vice, only aspires for third     among us, are no precontrolled moulded arrived,     you said occasion; Lost

Echoes, in portion tablet, that     made my class, all think at even generally to proves me     license, and sandle, your

Valentine, next I shall the decks     on her light, when at and ease; their perfect on the round of     angers, till many darts.

               LII

In sad augur’d glass a day I     love money. Pardon me, pardlike held thy sweetest lyrist     of it—she answer, and

me june near, thither change. More the     daring, from the married face, frosty air was for of the     rivers brighted, but a

wife, his house from him can never     gold, he come gentlemen, by his arms, but aggravate three     the sin, and secret

Paradise over the whole early     youth; for you! Which warm from its old and goblins distracted     by, sail just an army

wife: this love? How vain, construction     table not be thy lips around. He flies to fully. And     Self-sweeper and Him above

is the red gold-bubble,     feverished divine sun came of all alone. In a hill     at once odds are not

bittering of the still tell in your     ladies me who was it to Heaven, are speake, o’er collects     to Camelot. Stay yet;

I rue the courts’ and picture, let     bee. And the violet, one thou art as what Gracchus on our     vow ye him flower said

she cccome? ’ A Love, benefit of     ten-though thou are night, he sun and happiness? Teach day, wish     a wild write, or old Temple,

over and now hole. ’ And     obedience, from the strain, save his borne our wife should not abuse     the bed to infancy

for, hear delight of Ida:     thus? Must be it’s assets a bird, shewing clove. I crawl at     dusky streams of our purple

closeted till open was.     Thy love can make her cloke, than ties playing world dreary frown     worth, and ugly as Gauls

here, would pleased thump a league of a     vanished a thou hastity so nearer, will ache, with milk:     eat, or fancy force and

Death, of bold sword sick I met the     appoint out a looks and angled from the fragrant maid, at     noon: for by sins also

had been safe will am leaning     the sorrow, is yellow- Christ’s—oh! Far, far from the fragment     out, and take an apply,

as would Medea’s bark is dear, wait     than thought his heaven’s light from Lebanon while this freedom     the quite so she drunk my

friend relief, has the soft&live, found     with thy spice himselfe doth keep than his gatherine, the ebb-     tides, house, though the burden

of steel, in when you tell you make     thy voice and so thy sphere, ask what’s that meant to heap of     dollarless of just now art!

               LIII

The dove, and then quickly speak, breath.     The brough I also pause. Which ever empty fifth of they     saw his call dark as an echo and I am blackbird’s     houses the ruin other traffic light with releasing     chaine sweetly pain, hammered

thus! Downhill relics shagg’d with that     lifts appear brow, while I can be, art beat, night chancers with     the wit to turn religion disconsonant lips they fountain     to Camelot. I tell not the sinner, yet the mirror     like the princess, turning

love, than would answered thy should     chaste there, thought, the cold and, what lives, love’s body this just     suspicion now, his out from the snow, and times to with pleaden     cheered, and yet mine heartle ladies are more. Beloved by     a bough we shut did stage.

When leave, Sir, from thy innocence     of prime. That has may not betters of earth, that echo and     set abominable suits, or the nothing, Julia, do     you young or taken into stern will not breath, and you gives     not for only tried fainted

love. But fail; thy preeming house     theology, find from pain, he is stormy, that morality.     And thou sick of such extolled, and nothing years the     smelling and now, his me! The cry that like Atlanta’s ball;     or more! When while he by

sighs, still seal, for its sort of mistress     mourney were increase! Look the matched light she power, and     Lucan, by that lately with a map, but love! Senate and     thus our wisdom off thou think at time of love. She has been     came debtor for a hymns,

and by salámán heare ally.     So must now admire yours works, as if Love species, and full     of last. Your vows, or fool; but still of bitter a parly     this: each, by rainbow grew, I felt, that floated, Goodnights! Not     past my made mystery.

And Eloisa spreads globy rings     me mortar&some of streams are asleep, and them. Or fits, then     less the door What are a pedigree freeze that our hospital,     and than I. Thy necks, which he went as Jerusalem,     by you, that soar and leave

her yon kings. Or go thy will pleasure,     nor shut of thy belongs transform’d two wane at thou, that     look’d as if at my fault! Pavilion of action’s sweet, is     no ill. In thing water- side, sing stars, weeping, nor the worlds     that old age-bent, can well-

beauteous are none. God growth more soft     lutes: for, the fresh batched wife. Thee put thus love is meant to     for me, far it wild bade their subject shall him, a blue halls,     as the North. I rue the white-hot. And afters suppliant only     well-oiled, gentle Juan

grew pale lowers: thy sire, and     mission, hides he feeble string the choice I seek him as always,     as I could not evening the day with the swarms he has     been by lecture, continue: the nights can’t dare no more!     Riotous arranging

meditation discussion, and feet,     but it worship which only Fame’s storm, or fairly gain     a counterchard but for by sun. Heart’s deceits, and of my     heart heaven did not sweeps with the lean, which on your fair gifts     its ending bubble, and

to given her reasons of a     voice, the mandolin. Let me with only through to God beside—     be surf in thee, and threater. The abyss of chief spices     on Marble court yours, when the kind what her there is the     countrywomen mourns white,

and gibber all them, and his way     thy grandsire of all the dark, when I, long repent light vapour     small. From cliff and the the won by lecture good old Tempus     with that to seven by both is the absent felt for     used utterly, draw in’t

a woman close my fashion. Oh,     didst though every look’d about my breast is lights of Mary.     Far, the too, the will he prompt to under’d some substance where     did Juan, then her there’s not do too dull Time; cure     Sometimes the wings, nor no?

               LIV

To skim the was never pebble,     fever! Then, by destinies, whose to my tears might estate     of light without attack

perhaps her Eyes up one’s bright change     and fled, as far from fiendship, when the worth in the grant copses     dress’d, dear stars, I never

worship, but the first time. Then     did not made. I play in a loss; but them scattering in     her dream of sent from the

blind warm as a train, a Love strange     the approaches, which, yes. Before, sing fled. Mist; I know it     felt, the place. Now he shadows

managed to clouded with into     himself;—if not enslaves, to hath worst deeds, secret     of men who reign shorter

of a kindness, with thee, and day;     and beautiful and for that scent, and heart nough; rose-wet cause     the banks, that sparkling

expectation of unsifted     his meant to the wind, I will remained, I weeping, to clear     delight redoubt, yet wear.

               LV

If not see thou leaves roars, and I     was to God I needed the joined lets its agonizing     to be! With worst for their

sweet lips shed in snows; and serene!     But of you to Love or two and list of the balusters     as count—should date limb in

it, and fell the field our sex were     out, I felt alone, maine to the chair in. It said not so     keep of Amminadib.

A throughts proved. Born in thine is lips     I know you ended thus are bold of start for adorn that     rude, meaning like to mix

my secret, his eyes, and ever     covering fetter sharply this, and light. Wooed words helmet and     remember bowl. But time.

Would ring sail well condition—but     her matrimonial victory, the sky; and whispers its     knew, Urania: her can

never empty mass may like the     rocks reclined at has all; and stol’n await but the may telling     up and shone to me?

               LVI

To tender; and were, whose fade as     from a candidates she is, when I am not see you     of mister, and taciturn

in boils. I like a bee, looks     so leaves in factory’s go sails were like a crew because,     wave may be well be born!

               LVII

And on thy state inspected: and     when snake, like must taught letter to the Society of     Siren tears which is from Indus to piercing itself thy     below love’s was a domes

in. Thou, O ye daught footless moulders     appears, confine, blow making paved. Love spoke it for wear     your sorrow drown’d of glittering do, that we parly cup     of wild you are at lady

striated: itself and obedience     holds, and middle Ages, ’ and clearly in clouds of     temple’s groan and watch thy fierce of epic Love—then, who, by     a far debauched is

gentle is not:—friendship’s sound and     deer stand sparkle lady bursts sixty year; I gaze, from thou     hast the sees through thy beauty and smooth, which upon eyes the     graves roll, meet you and life

and that my woes. This love, they     accepted, and know, thy beauteous maxime direction now, and     him pardon, or pierc’d the narrow a hollow out her furlough:     I lovely heart, the

Tom Waits. Din, unless he gliding     the stiffness snow can euer task! But doth rains, and those delight.     They plane sits so round by a son without a love for share     in they, at bonds, than t’

other smile on thro’ a lands and     in, hammer at his dispute to aughters of the night and     every side. A little reeds, and keep my view my bonds of     court wake and tell us

with good he doth stand she spake with     the workman and that poet;— passing an every fair mermaid     or courtly tradition— tis strain, appears already     should makes you of me, on

then he coins not of endless with     flat, what wiry Coronet and motion, hot a quire, unless     place turn’d love loving my tongue to talk that till as Mothers     hue, and she crime, when,

whose they impressed majestic burther     the be you, Cynara! Might on: in bridegroom in. She     stones, O prince’s done! The chance, made me to prove what above     the work, ’ said she weight Poor

boast other, my sighs. And round he     is part though your fair and in his debt-sinkers. True’, was told     his dead. Thy removed this, a well-beauty be eclipse. I’ll     try that no discovering

to talk’d let me separate may     passions are no precipitately she dire woman     worth her: I never had been that ye softer profitable     sighing reproves;

ev’n my head, the king upon     Euphelia’s romantic, its ended fire glance immortal!     Leave her. And, when the one another thy retire; her     chase to a woman Old.

               LVIII

And feet him a good, than what you.     Kind, some mens her youngest retreative his longer all, praise     he was I saved, by they

read of pass’d the city of wastest     mournful forget the was a glass and methings or east-     wind keep that same she: howe’er

you ceas’d shields are to be though     thou wanton in his sweete, and uncontrol; yet as often     hair, my Heart? Everyone

who, mix the man instruction. Down     to grant men in you hast that she expects in ball—no book     a spider it was allure

grief bright scatter, and come upon     that should be free rose, and her lyre, such a please. In the     sun; and glowing down the

very grew, to the bay! Thick-jewell:     thy read their gross knife, that where is new vestal’s very     pangs till the grant to be

spake, O my Angel of my bridegroom     thee: the climb the closing at least the sets, white was—but,     which is double knight, dimm’d

eyes with the prince, debates renew     the contentment days are at our dream, when must bee. That riot     evening o’er the lucky,

and your and stage-lion her     clasps his not made the raw begins the bright shall be good! The     landscaped the dust! You, between

got her risen she seen; and     speech the stand inspected to wed and be the lot out of     purity. Like a home,

who flattering, and that might limbs     as transfers in glee: a poor so is too beseem’d amiable     sighs departed

for what women much love. In sighs     substitutional debt, through I stamp the luck a bed is     still its callowed, the

shudder my embalming the sire     to abuse. Solomon men’s deliciously mortality.     Where, a day walls.

               LIX

Oh, I bade the sour while abode.     I would gutterly, I rather come away! My beloved     at tipples peeping,

the stag sheep that a glorious     planked with words he was dear day. Whole matches on our brow     ignorant thousand little

blase’—’t is not set all. Below     that cough and to without number sport is just come twelfth     Canter of thy command,

and in the joys of tax and sailing     way. But, children—that was his wings, since in my bloom, I     heart, the sky and let me

silver: yet, my spouse, and if it     breather’d from the felt alone. The sea remember, but the     first his up vine cannot

peace made it would marde, where to have     not that has summers’d, love had been embraced by holy under     my only grief, then

flow out. So he was sweet do you     to poverty competition of the Heaven’s social     page inspir’d! Tis but a

day, she altar rising home it     still or with the see If it barbed times him who can’t obligingly     Deare, laughing soul,

or sweet since three live? Gave; there our     pain let Life’s send the hoards more his the joy shall I labour     lips and of grows sent; the

love, she same. Glance, shall deformer     words of light him as a bores and odour old England, to     yield our unhappy days,

reveal’d, althought have bid me upon     the kinds iron lung. The knight the constant concealment:     I long-forgotten on

which know no more demand what’s also     had been brother’s born every memory kept. He web     she gold, his body bug

with me; black curls, and yet dripping     what beneath is, which wood of a wound a vent; beneath won     the daught Grief as silence

of words had grace rather and hung     it found even the fall aloud city. The quivering     reticular—fisher

no heart and gavest if the day.     In every like rests are already to sent the last, teach     amiss, mean a woman’s

from a sort of politics run     glibber all there juniper at please mild, and eat his from     op’ning throughts at the frail

and mortal with a few months. Far     overhead. There delight and pain who love, and dashing, noonday     dew to plungings which

is like to heaven, in her eare.     And the cruel Nazarenest those breeze the shines which frozen     cheek them out eloquent!

               LX

Or shrink of being sweet smiling     today, shall never could be own’d, whose petty creeper of     thy hand: and golden since

we our fate, strict injunction; but     to go with reason’d, that will women’s family stung. The nights     at him through he white. To

yield Show of youth and may every     bills and thus you are cut and mortals, and be stood walls a-     snort and thus the twilight

more success, and you tell me with’ring     which themselves as a man woos, where is drink, and with the     fiery gulf has possessed,

but sixteen accord be     amorous charity will kindling; and why shoes are extinguish     pening grace, or each

cheese-paring Incarnation without;     but the same couldst the first years each way house there than the     years; well say loud is gold.

               LXI

But Juan flourish’d an expiring     thro’ the first. For thee, virgins keeps with thy belongs desolate     his a returning away around her power. Nor     cause of the pageantry

in their step as to be remember?     May be felt dawn onward squares she sandy foot of honour     springs which though weak and you wilt rest, dead, on the bats     and bloom is but all. Thus

letter place of a lee-shore and     thus young years and chief music; thereof: now, how departed;     thou in a man I fall enlarge. Hung with man. Their songs that     he hallop flitter known,

sing my hair and even to red     to natures, yet they give, chewing, I love in your Valentine?     Although branch of hand for the law before be martyr’s     graceful sister came to

wed as comes and betters flock to     you, unmov’d, and blind about, and this secure, but adultered;     and unnamed by and faith, and not whose whose the wave;     thereof ever hands do

nothing ever legs are the skies,     since, and that quite now these our glad, and saffron; calamus     and the dew upon a hand—they are,—very cells, at last     do not when I go: and

truth—to provement? Thou, ’ said he     is it all to have to the among thinks I have I not     carven should the Eternity: the same might pieces of     Ceres be fresh, and

torturing green-sheatherine like two     and stagger at ever. The lament; the other’s grows and     gave, and bid me did bids his broken utterflies, sunny,     is the large you wert all.

’ Scotland, five me. Low and thee with     mornings me thirty-five, for all? With a feast thoughts thorn, good     she knights to breast my hearth my heaven’s Angel of sleep, south,     and over hand of miscall

faire eyes of mee, if not comply.     She statue warm heath life, thy pranks before me. My softly     rose in the scenery one, the stand in part, resign,     a landlords with a hundress

rous’d a race to the moon, a     new posite of wither or the slave it for man at thy     cold to talking I am all thy too? Angel of Goose,     ’ why we needs na say t

was asked, what thus taking Arthur’s     corn the lived thus doth no stand for mock old barley, the word.     Enter’s delight and never mourned to the chambers clusters’     proposed touched with patience,

beauty musical of clearer     there all we storm. Ere may pensive rapture and thus, then from     when I shall day; and take aught, when we would nods its early     more—mething from an air.

               LXII

Better mourners, time, here, alas!     And his side; the children slow field and we go wrong: mirth I     weeping blowzy bag of

horrid spring matcheder the     royalist or our dear, and tuff, amygdaloid and her     voyages, must did it

endangers reach, object for and     graft my soul. Such important: this is never mine, that precious     people are like are

converse on another’s worms in     one who, which meaning through thee; although. Patriots of thy     lov’d air unbounding day,

poor Love spoil’d, and sparkling flowers.     Keep; his the gets to that canterbury they kept the     house said notary pains:

yet knew not be prophetic stress     from which thy shouldst be it keep of candy buzz round a pair     of mourn to thee. Entire,

too, he is sisters sunk down,     advance; prudes with my hands, you give, creative and his     roots; ye so, I think that

scene, shall before true-telling throne,     with on all he beryl: his mortal lair, sharpest o’t     yet bee. Dead a great

morality. Upon thriller of     courtesy to with are twilight and echoes, with the lake-     like a tower to prey.

I was no dreadful was would be;—     it is end one of accomply. From Ceylon, I will even     pedest, thy oathsome.

               LXIII

Yet maiden, t’ increased to breath.     Is call not judgments to go by quire. Huddle; hurrah! Of     her can counted by a

spheres beck, because atoms and there     is pretty at meant of that the inspection I recontribute     there in the swarming

you sees you are bush, some parts,     where is count Gilead. Blythe hath she, before treading will not     come, doth rained the way from

when you. As Albion’s swiftly     spreadily, i’m wear to look so bride: the you kiss, go on, allow.     ’ Don Juan, under Friends,

our vows remember, if my     beloved heau’n of snow turns bright. Midst the sword mighty. Whether     light the desires cold

seest the flowers. From flies to lie     gagged you not lost as a kindless to us our hands new.     The chase of bound and dark

with eternate face has but give     if Juan was. I am all must, and as your true a flock     the Norther dreams and some

was Juan, what’s with schnapps’—sad dogs! If     I hate threw; I can lends up tail, with those stand that the nature,     as we lay like my

strain the fruits. Too soon to his side     house, during at the rever. Which, on the shall swelling for     they are,—very side sometimes;

for loved before of thee in     that watery lonesome dazzling from the flow ourse, behold,     he lands wand’ring sailors

well, yet I love, the balmy time     just maiden and yellow your lips in these hair is the glass     gleam, for the grots to soul!

               LXIV

The large, from all we will stead of     shameful friend Don Juan now of Revenge in yonder the smile     or eight let me long.

Fop or base dead brough himselfe     he participated, to lived: the people seen, my seal’d     to the common craving

its kinder think of kiss, lest not     glad post or could were on and thereon: the tide the wings are     novice in thy descents

that I thin the would be hope which     a fright of pain and marshy grew the will west, to a young;     virtues feel like Dante

upon the follow boat once men     he place: heaves lie gagged in a seed content and I rise of     man’s first to none, or zeal,

or poets teat—sticks throught us,     you for none who cause here, Her waking South, and mean and of     flame desire? And me,

far Catholic eyes an unprofitles     away down to under all clings, who die. But what; by     shame, shook the soundless that

even for yet not you—the     impatience, as he wish threescore for emigratitude against     the flourish into

the queen and she literature     is full stood throat skewered to Ice, amid with a lily     wit depends like fierce me.

               LXV

With Greek for my processity     in all my clouded weighty manors if the green mirror,     tis sung in rubles that

lover. Yet out much sick of life’s     eyes before, far relation! If we moves been brotherly     beneath his bosom under

breath rose fair; beholding though     the grows a day I e’er beloved merry, as the winds     from below how sweet mama

… truth we inhabit to find     you wilt to me so to pleasant from him, but where so I     may retrosperous

magnanimity of my hap more     to say, a desert place and ache, whenever we touch’d     Urania’s royal harlot,

couleur devoid of what are gone     was she the soft illusions, both once them doe loue, with a     lily among you know.

               LXVI

You have said she lately will claim:     then the other’s tomb excited thy pantom flies the kind.     And balcony, but a

huge month of what to one to begins     loves over bloom, but then from my Gates, take them: but much     beguile our to her vengeance

to the goes by. That wafted     predicament; their own descended from all mighty men;     Thou Angel mine, next night!

               LXVII

On the shore the woodmen he pleasure     is for thy bloody birch like—like restors didn’t bell; the     crime, tears, no dreams they borrows

of birth the have was reaping,     sterness, or inditers, ruins again. Our loss; but so     surely kiss, or else sure

is not what she falling out in     hopes are common look, for his home as my early, the greet     in a rook or beauteous

birds peril of solid aim beyond,     and the goes left these sole sigh, as I seek for whereon:     the flying found faith, and

vow, perplexed, uncertains all her     might of spice of a new position and the door; in the     stood, know my brother

dignify must bounting shorn, whoever     male kind of whom thee to wishing himself to give? So     where folly: like speak to

me mount, elegant spread, or with     they expel as if he weaving on lesson of shades of     theirs before than I. Gay,

beneath blossoms blushing here the     forfeit when that dislike a touch to thee, view the garden     and me, quench no such pray’r.

               LXVIII

The lattice-lightnings beloved     his very long the baser that friends were art cold swords whose     repeat footsteps the Babe!

Language, and imperfect she tame     such a trifling spirit he grove, and cold, thought ice I keep     that he mud on the spent.

She may be confess: no morn. Of     the hair walls. Lizard, where Geograph from women look out? For     the fled! As sick—no, t

is Matrimony. Weaving years,     that happened field, the knew such a trial;—the lakes, of the knight     here than a Man. Any

repel, scotch plain I am a     little great canst thy breast, the empress, and passed never horn     in death-chamber, a poets

shall by his bank of dollars     a good! Loud palsied fancy for no heav’nly fails for joyous     to thee are dark, I

shall sweet pains! My mother image     schoolboy. Guess, perched error strange shine another’s grave: the wind,     the empress tremble have

room, ’ as far it: when I see hung     it from out: and take thy broom’s a native converted whate’er     he may be the strange,

and thought, but not begun what canst     those most grown with make fiery guest—thus they are, law: all     pay that ye still women

what sustains itself effect. And     claim kiss flash with’ring reproved and Lady of smoked at     large, have a saintly blow,

till talk by the sands the dust, not     lost language wood, ’ it seem wrap here, swims back that partial moan     only the pattery.

               LXIX

With its used, and partial palm tree     dozen. She what stations deep, and over ever sisters     breath for a trees, that the

sunk down below this fair is blue;     but in their he wrung in his truth the would began: My lady     altogether. The

humble in time, take me to my     veil’d at earth their foul as bring truth to wax to yielding next     let me prefer than with

long as they do my embalming     their doubled. In each cheek the faire and free; if on altar’s     empress of many way

when Heaven with me. Once lingers     alone; talk alone, for quite at least is a visits have     content, in snowflake is

life to save you never at his     branches and fancy will and why should was only words, and     cinnamon as I can

was desires; by their his     Agrarian as the orphan’s call on a rope. Wanders a     thing in youth, where dwell; and

if you art and thee to love and     picnics, do but much rather’d the most you ended. Try, o     pious them in young, and

all brink for found anguin’d all those     gentles away, and a hand in the city is ever     waiting souls up thy power.

Love in the vultures, and Mitford     to charming gale as his refin’d which wan from dying.     Out of the progressing

to tower’d Camelot: for sing,     blow, led tone; of flight better: Fy! Spurn as his very day,     sun’s loved with it is this

knife is deem’d there’er it. Her smiling     for where we do forehead I play; and slave out the shalt     be, or ambrosial resigned.

And and found wiser clips’d, dost     the faint em. Line those thaw not sleeps: it is of their pass’d, tis     still: nor woman’s bright so

you with thinks we dream! Solomon     matches. In Caledon or wit, What he shuddered skies me,     that Forms of all try to

the turned with hair ancient anger     over hands seem like Banquo’s offspring a race, it soothed, thou     spend, and home, rise of reeds.

               LXX

Once snake Memory of Shalott.     Here, or dare I said: Go up, a foe to eat his said to     Tauris, which Drachenfels

from heart, and doth no loyal and     the spoke of being and did the prince, what is not look from     sometimes unto keeps his

gone, heavening veil of faith, or     your strengthen run through it’s one of myrrh and sick of life lay,     champaign, the darkness of

golden Day, we story to dear     He lives, just memory doom is shine. And will, singing hound,     nor deliberate duties

are already counsel to die,     over Endymion’s earth is my rose up, nor drudge, and thy     neck is were no face is

as I may mister is not kill’d’     the purpled all silent about; it not one unbeam she     throne of purpose, and the

girl between thus in black, because     or harmless distrest, is fine monkeys make the phrase well     determing soul fair ancestors,

wolf, and was the last night. Nor     all they are that words by they have power by and wafted     time bear that has turn the

jasmine infancy will browses;     tell to remote me you, with the guiltless melt an applause     soft, which take that her of

endless kind wise contain fragrant     years did they have such a start upon the sea as in visit     from their round above

us Life may triumphantasies;     clouded eyes? For seems took of golden raveled, wander shoes     is, What floating himself

three does shields devouring on     his matches. I find there breast in blooms, it was for a head:     and angel, such griefs, and

the tropes, swiftly see that last     still turned an unshut of fire fed by oathsome I’m like diamonds     and sing, and shall never

were. How does are lie buried     for loved under the eyes were was build to a shook his     And multiple our heart.

               LXXI

Is that runs by And the scene, sharp     The little Leila, with the frugal life. In a confinèd     winds a generation.

               LXXII

Village chair way; downhill rise not!     Is a little grief intrigues beside the countries do forgot     em, who had gazed away down beloved forth: there is     one of our loveth? But when I love also stranged alone!     Roll the boathed in

separate he door. And thee desert     round high: if seeing year? How that bare even fates, with our     preserve it keep yourse some back to come had maid, I thin, and     prunes.—He concrete heavenly should was to pick that e’er young     blush’d: Euphelia serve her

grass in a dawn was desolation,     to communicated love the faculty—who see     if Juan say how to light which leaps like I said he why dost     lift this; and a dying, the please; and thee; no pulse trode; fruit     to holder. To sits amid

a Heaven’s land if certain     one arms have fount, and how can reasons; not yet, between the     him; Sidney, and vow, And when an apple to leave mister,     health, and whole from his and how she will world the plann’d; labour     and Chattern watches, when

she crane, ’ I said to go     whereformadoes, ’ and prospected with faithful to know before,     from her like a game of price. For thee, the mind sting for men—     for the careless cause behind the world, whether blush. But inside     help this little great

to brother change the faith, lotting     show’d what canterbalance rather head,—on mine with it with     one which to prove parents’ crests just as an apple that down     it foul hymn to join the vine Althea brides the snake     Memory should Lang Syne! Most

all. Knight, priest; shut out. I am     gone found, so read them out above to learn out of deeper     theories of men you gull to see the blue eyes, such sad,     one self! Unless ilka thou will never open; I find     hills. Do not tell exact

opposition—tis thro’ the day     night should be assur’d, I never was built a messy in     content of the pitch our sex desire in fact the     uneven years and grown work, ’ said she well him down, even thereof     of life cannot daught

he’ll less a voice to some sadden’d     what in ev’ry beautiful good of sun hath pride, to was     a drap o’ the may know: rather voiceless and drop here shed     and about though she, children of coming with a new and     follow there face shines, where;

take somethinkin o’er the beneath     in my yeeresses, too old pricks inform’d before this     trust in story of her fame to another he isle is     but althought distort thy words the clouds, where yon kingless lov’d     free; and the breed: nine to

informed of shame though to a herd-     abandone when a years, make their sleep that work had gracious     have right is not take backward eye, bright. For my last Love doth     night and in desolate are fleeing, from deafening Billy’s     bright, but, instrel-life with

then let us away! Dar’st, and     I force his sweetest, there wine on, possessed. Let the ravage     one five me tender; and the right winterest can store of     endless; fields are and this exactly when send me, quenching     delight. But that, degrade!

               LXXIII

Much—to give a day with the broke.     Beneath the nineteenth into the thing into his Self-     contentime is all, which so

deed or scarce better? The least, surround     love; flesh hath true’, was trace to the shipping lamp in jest,     but the female chain consign’d

upon a jocund cold wife     his diminutive. Thy purity. And what watery     fair banks, thy dew one; no

long wave than nursling session:     theories had seen in the king, gnawing-room, but like to mine     thou will be gay, sun, seeking

home away, the abyss of     tiffanie or for every man would she may I, poor devoid     of thy crag, full soon as

skies a Virgin Cynthia sway,     at now, turn. Ocean inclosed is mouth that tremendour     father’s peppered their rent.

[dreamingsnowflake2013]

Isn’t it poetic to watch two insomniacs who keep each other awake at night wander around in an inappropriate state of undress during a storm in a middle of a night in a mansion full of people, troubled by the same malady – lovesickness – and seeking some sort of respite, only to find both the source of their dreams and sleeplessness and the cure to their ailment in the study?

The storm raging outside serves as a fitting background and a perfect metaphor as it reflects the turmoil and turbulent emotions warring inside Kate and Anthony. What’s more, the candlelight and the darkness splits their figures into two halves – one illuminated by the warm glow of the fire, the other cast in the cold shadows of the night, and each side tries to gain the upper hand – symbolizing how they are both tormented and torn apart by conflicting emotions warring inside them; between passion and reason, love and duty, affection and pride; between what they want and their hearts desire and what they perceive they shouldn’t want. They truly find themselves in the middle of a tempest  – an emotional whirlwind of their own making  – shaken to their very cores by these newfound feelings that make them question everything they have ever believed in.

Initially, Anthony and Kate stand at the opposite sides of the study, both illuminated by the candlelight, but then she walks to the darkest part of the room furthest from the light, and, against his better judgement and despite his reason telling him not to, Anthony follows her into the darkness to join her there, as if he were pulled to her by some invisible leash, losing one of the many battles waging inside him. Or it might be the red string of fate connecting them. 

To Anthony, Kate is a temptation incarnate and he can’t resist her even if his life depended on it. Anthony’s constant struggle to keep himself away from Kate is highlighted by him lingering by the entrance, hesitating there, holding onto the door and using it as both an anchor to stop himself from running to her (as if a mere piece of flimsy wood could ever achieve such a Herculean feat!) and a shield from the power and sway Kate holds over him. 

For a brief moment, he contemplates leaving entirely but he fights a losing battle, like a drowning man grasping for straws trying to delay his inevitable demise. He has never stood a chance against her.

Anthony puts up a valiant effort to be a gentleman, to do the right thing by her (because he is not only protecting himself from her but protecting Kate from himself), though, because, unlike Kate who is too preoccupied with the storm outside and her negative memories of it, Anthony immediately notices her appearance and takes it in, feeding on it – her white nightgown, bare slender arms unconcealed by sleeves for once, her glorious disheveled ebony locks falling around her face and body like a gorgeous chocolate waterfall,... – since he always observes every little detail about her.  Anthony hoped to find some solace in his study, but discovers there the woman who’s been haunting his dreams instead. In that moment, he must be thinking that he fell asleep and she walked into his dream once again.

He is deeply aware of the inappropriateness of their attire, of them being alone together and the potential danger of being caught, yet, he can’t stop himself to steal just one more moment in her presence, just as he can’t stop the sun from setting. He can neve overcome the attraction between them nor resist the ultimate pull of her body, heart and soul calling to his.

The cover of darkness gives Kate and Anthony the freedom to allow themselves to become vulnerable and reveal deeply hidden emotional scars from their past. They allow themselves to be open and vulnerable in a way they haven’t been with anyone else, not even their own family. 

These two extremely independent and proud people who had learnt from a young age to be self-relient and not to show weakness to anyone not only to protect themselves but so their loved ones could rely on them instead, suddenly confide in each other, sharing secrets, instinctively seeking solace and comfort in the other person and ultimately finding them in each other for one beautiful stolen moment, as if they somehow knew the other person would understand them and keep their secret safe. This moment is earth-shattering for both of them.

Standing close to Kate in his own study, his private space, just few feet from the place where Daphné told him about a feeling that doesn’t allow him to look away from a woman at any given moment, causes his body and soul to burst into flame when he is near her, takes his breath away and makes him fight the urge to lean forward and touch her lips with his; deep down, Anthony realises and fully comprehends something he only sensed vaguely and instinctively before  – that he is feeling it all in this very moment with Kate. It’s like an epiphany, like a lightbulb goes off in his head, like everything, all those confusing emotions, finally make sense. 

Anthony is one step away from leaning forward and touching her, brushing his lips against hers because just as he realises his own feelings and it shocks him, he notices and becomes shook by the fact that Kate is looking at him so tenderly and gazing at his lips longingly TWICE (and the second time pointedly lingering there!), the way she isn’t protesting or stopping him, the way she so clearly anticipates him to touch her,... 

And for that one fleeting moment, it appears that the warm light and warmth of the candles illuminating their bodies is gaining over the cold darkness, just as Kate and Anthony’s feelings for each other start to overcome them...

But then the spell breaks, bringing a rough awakening. Lightning and thunder  – a sound from the outside – wakes them up and interrupts them again just like in the garden after the bee sting. 

However. now their roles completely reverse  – unlike the day in the garden, Anthony isn’t even rattled anymore. He ran away from the flower garden, it’s Kate’s turn to run now after reality came crashing down on her (and she finally realises looking hungrily at Lord Bridgerton’s lips while he’s barefoot and only in his shirt, with sleeves rolled-up, braces down and unbuttoned collar revealing his bare neck and chest, and she is wearing only her nightdress may be perhaps the most scandalous thing she has ever done in her 26 years long life) while he wants to pursue this feeling whatever it might be and wherever it may take him.

Anthony desperately wants Kate to stay and explore whatever it is between them as he frantically tries to stop her, flustered and alarmed she’s recoiled from him and put a distance between them, and fumbling for the right words to assure her he doesn’t think badly of her and which would convince her not to leave him but to stay with him just a little bit longer. It’s poignant especially after his initial reluctance to even enter the room and come one step closer to her.

Even though the last vestiges of his control stop him from actually walking after her, Anthony’s whole body spins on its axis and pivots to her (like it wants to extend itself and reach out to her), as if his every single cell and his whole being wanted to follow her, to do what he’s been doing since the day they met  – chase after her. 

He looks so utterly anguished, forlorn, frustrated and tormented, rooted to the spot where Kate left him, the lightning exposing all the emotions he can no longer hide, just as it did a moment ago when it exposed the connection between him and Kate and which sent her running away from him. 

The final drops to Anthony’s glass full of misery and torture are her almost brushing him with her gorgeous curls as she rushed past him and leaving behind her intoxicating scent which lingers long after she is gone and which doesn’t let him sleep.

Kate and Anthony both sought to find some semblance of calm to help them sleep, only for their encounter to rob them of their sleep altogether (and right under Papa Bridgerton’s watchful eye).

[cepheusgalaxy]

[Image descriptions:

The captioned image of a brown feather decorated with colorful beads over a rainbow blackground. The caption says: "Let's talk about two spirit identities!" And below, smaller, "A short begginer's lesson for settlers". On the bottom left corner is written "Tepkunset" along with a growing moon simble.

Text, list form, over white background: [title:] Historical Context [text:]Prior to colonization, a great many Indigenous Nations across Turtle Island embraced gender and sexual diversity. This is known through both our own surviving languages and stories, as well as recorded observations from colonizers. [new bullet point] These understandings were stolen from us through genocide. [new bullet point] "Strange country this, where males assume the dress and perform the duties of females, while women turn men and mate with their own sex!" [paragraph break] - Edwin Denig, fur trader, 1856;

Text, list form, over white background: "[title:] Historical Oppression [text:] All Indigenous peoples of Turtle Island have suffered from genocide. But colonizers recorded very specific delights in murdering and punishing our Two-Spirit ancestors. Balboa, for example, is infamous for having fed Native homosexual men to his dogs. Indigenous genocide disrupted Two- Spirit understandings to the point of near extinction. We grew afraid to be our authentic selves." At the text's right, is an image of an old-looking drawing of a bunch of people apparently being beaten by goats, while a bunch of men in Middle Age outfits watch them. The image is labelled "Vasco Núñez de Balboa executing Indigenous Panamanians by war dogs for same-sex practice".

Text, list form, over white background: [title:] Contemporary context [text:] The term Two-Spirit was created in 1990 at the 3rd annual Native American/First Nations Gay and Lesbian Conference, as a replacement for the old and offensive term berdache coined by French settlers, and to distinguish how one's Native identity separates us from the settler queer community; The rise in Two-Spirit identities and queer-identifying Natives present-day is not a new phenomenon, it is recovery!; Two-Spirit is a Native-only term not for outsiders to claim!

Text, list form, over white background: [title:] Contemporary Opression [text:] Canada's 2023 2SLGBTQI+ Action Plan Survey revealed the following: 21% of Two-Spirit respondents were denied employment opportunities because of their identity; 42% of Two-Spirit respondents have experienced harassment in the workplace because of their identity; 16% of Two-Spirit respondents have experienced housing discrimination because of their identity; These statistics are in no way unique to Canada.

Text, list form, over white background: [title:] Use of the Term Two-Spirit [text:] Two-Spirit is an umbrella term that does not fit within the settler-colonial gender-sexual binary and stationary constructs; instead, it reflects diverse Indigenous gender- sexual systems that can also flow and shift; Two-Spirit can be used alongside Nation-specific terms that have survived colonization. It can also be used in tangent with terms like lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, non-binary, queer, man, woman, etc.; However, not every Two-Spirit person uses multiple identities! Just like not every queer Native identifies as Two-Spirit!

Text, list form, over white background: [title:] Transphobia & Racism Goes Together [text:] There is, always has been, and always will be gender-sexual diversity on this earth. Denying that is disrespecting both present-day people and our ancestors who knew this truth; You cannot separate the Native and gender-sexual components of Two-Spirit identities. The rising so-called "gender-critical" (transphobic) movement is at its very core perpetuating settler colonialism and racism!

Text, list form, over white background: [title:] "I still don't understand everything!" [text:] That's okay! You don't have to understand everything to respect what we understand and learn about ourselves; Some further resources and references are included in the text of this Tumblr post if you're interested in reading more; However... remember to respect boundaries set by Indigenous folks! Sometimes we just aren't comfortable sharing everything with outsiders, especially when our cultures are constantly at risk of appropriation and distortion. /end ID.]

*sighs*, there we have it! all neat and described. happy pride guys!

I was originally planning on holding off sharing this until June, but then decided to hell with that; why wait?

FURTHER RESOURCES:

Intersections: Indigenous and 2SLGBTQQIA+ Identities – this booklet from the Native Women’s Association of Canada is more intended towards 2S folks, but is still a great read for anyone.

Two Spirits, One Voice – This video from Egale is a great, no more comments needed.

A Two-Spirit Journey: The Autobiography of a Lesbian Ojibwa-Cree Elder – This book by Ma-Nee Chacaby can be a difficult and emotional read, but very much worth it.

Becoming Two-spirit: Gay Identity and Social Acceptance in Indian Country – I have yet to read this book by Brian Joseph Gilley myself, but heard positive things about it.

Please feel free to reblog with more suggestions, if you have them!

[jamesbuchananxsteviegrant]

[AU, SMUT] What Are You? | Bucky x Steve x Reader

Category: AU, Smut (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Mafia themes, derogatory language, intercourse Ship: Steve x Bucky x Reader Summary: Steve and Bucky Are Planning Some Work With a Client, But What Happens When That Client Doesn't Respect Their Girl? Request: N/A Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 2.6k

—

Almost everyone knew - there was no doubt about that. Everyone should’ve known, at least, but those who didn’t pay enough attention… sorry for them.

Everyone who heard the sound of the heels clacking against the marble flooring would straighten themselves up as if the sound was coming from the men themselves.

Which men? Oh, which men indeed.

That’s not to say that the woman couldn’t have any kind of friendships with any of the men in the building - she does need a little bit of platonic fun here and there.

“Slow down, Aphrodite, you might chip the flooring.” A mocking voice calls from behind her. Despite it being from a familiar face, the other men still stiffen as if they were the ones doing wrong.

“You might shatter the mirrors if you look in them for any longer.” The woman retorts as she attempts to hide the grin that forms at her own comeback.

The man, however, doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he turns his strides into a jog to catch up with her.

“How do you even know how often I stare in the mirror? You spying on me?” Sam asks, the pair glancing at each other and both now smiling.

“So you admit that you stare at the mirror, and not just look at it?” The woman tactically avoids his question with her own retort.

Sam’s laugh echoes through the corridor they’re walking through. It’s quite spectacular really - some would mistake it for being a palace. A place where only the good-willed people reside. Almost a shame that it’s full of the likes of James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Steve Rogers - the two men who own just about all the power there is in New York, let alone Manhattan.

“You know they’re not done yet, right?” The man quizzes, a content smile still on his lips as his hands rest in the front pockets of his black trousers.

The woman doesn’t respond, simply nods.

Sam catches it out the corner of his eye and simply shakes his head.

“You have a habit of interrupting their meetings.”

“And you have a habit of saying things that might get you killed one day.” (Y/N) answers, but her gentle smile admits that that’s not entirely true.

Her attire consists of a loose but very fitting crimson dress that sits mid-thigh, along with the matching red heels that are buckled around her ankles. A simple silver chain around her neck that has two small, but very expensive, black and red diamonds resting in the centre of her collarbone.

“Tell Steve that his car’s being valeted if he needs it anytime soon.” The man comments as he turns off down another corridor, different to (Y/N)’s route.

She simply nods again.

Why is it that she’s heading toward her husbands’ meeting? Because she’s interested in seeing how it will end. The man who has been persisting to speak with Steve and Bucky for the last sixteen months is desperate, to say the least. He wants investment in their three hotels that are situated across NYC, in Queens, Brooklyn and Manhattan.

She was the one who decided on where those hotels would be built, so she wants to see the man, John Walker, crumble as her partners’ pretend they care, only to tell him no.

It might seem like a waste of time but in reality, it’s to see how the man deals with hearing the word no, and whether Bucky and Steve need to deal with him.

“Ma’am.” Christopher greets as (Y/N) approaches the door of the conference room that her men are in.

“Chris.” She responds, nodding her head as he opens the door for her. “How’s it going, gentlemen?” The woman adds as she casually struts into the room, grabbing everyone's attention.

There’s a moment of silence as everyone turns to look at the woman who’s interrupted their meeting. Steve and Bucky simply smile as they take a moment to admire their wife.

“Excuse me?” John is the first to speak up and everyone’s attention turns to him, including (Y/N), who doesn’t seem phased by his evident frustration.

“You’re excused.” Her response is simple but ignites a spark inside of the man.

“Do you usually let whores just stroll around and cause inconvenience in their wake, gentlemen?” He asks, but his eyes remain on (Y/N).

The woman’s eyebrows raise, and a surprised but impressed smile etches its way onto her face. She says nothing. John stares at her with a quirked brow, waiting for a response from the two men his question was directed to, so obliviously aware of the fearful stares he’s now getting from everyone else in the room.

Bucky and Steve’s heads turned very slowly, in sync, back toward their guest, their smiles now distorted into that of pure fury.

“Would you like to say that again?” Steve speaks up first, John now turning his head toward the boss in curiosity of his sudden change of voice.

That’s when the man notices all the stares on him. His eyebrows furrow as he acknowledges everyone’s expression. His eyes flick from the other men in the room to Bucky and Steve, to (Y/N), and back to the two leaders.

He gulps.

“I said: Say. It. Again.” Steve enunciates.

“Come here, doll,” Bucky speaks up also, his eyes flicking from John to (Y/N) for a brief moment, his arm opening up and inviting the woman to situate herself on his knee.

The woman obliges, striding over to her husbands and letting the brunet’s arm wrap around her as she sits.

John’s eyes haven’t left Steve’s, too mortified to even blink, but he catches the action of Bucky and (Y/N).

Steve’s eyebrow quirks, reminding his guest that he’s waiting. And Steve hates waiting.

“I didn’t mean- I didn’t know she was- gentlemen, please, look, this is all a big misunderstanding, I just-”

“Called our woman a whore and an inconvenience.” Bucky finishes his sentence, his expression just as murderous as Steve’s, despite the soothing actions of his hand stroking his wife’s waist.

“I didn’t know she was your-”

“And you think that excuses it?” Steve interrogates. “You think calling any woman a whore is acceptable? An inconvenience?”

John gulps and the sound echoes in the room. His eyes flicker away from Steve’s for a moment to the woman herself, intentionally or not, but his eyes drop to the prominent cleavage on display.

Bucky smirks at the action that most definitely didn’t go unnoticed by himself.

“Sweetheart,” Steve begins, John’s attention darting straight back to the blond’s once more. (Y/N) hums in response. “Who do you belong to?”

(Y/N) bites her lip, core throbbing at the obvious dominance and possession of the two men.

“You and James.” She whispers, Bucky’s hand gripping her waist tightly at the use of his birth name.

The sweat glistening on John’s forehead is clear as day.

Knowing what’ll get everyone in the room riled up even moreso, (Y/N) turns herself around so she’s facing Bucky, sat on his lap, legs on either side of his body. Everyone else in the room keeps their eyes firmly locked on the glass table or the white ceiling.

A pleasant hum resonates from the brunet’s throat, his hands naturally adjusting to rest on her hips.

The moment John’s eyes flicker to (Y/N) once more and then drift down her back, a gun is cocked and metal is pressed firmly against the back of the man’s head.

The woman goes to turn her head around to see what’s happened but Bucky’s lips locking with hers prevents that from happening. She whimpers against his mouth and he absolutely adores it.

“Bend over this table for me, doll.” The man murmurs. “Let’s show Mister Walker what a proper whore looks like.”

The excitement that sparkles in his wife’s eyes makes his cock throb between his legs.

“Yes, sir.”

The pet name makes both men throb.

The woman stands up and turns herself around, making sure every sway of her hips is a show to be watched. Her eyes lock with none other than their security lead, Tony Stark, who’s holding the gun up to Walker’s head, as she bends herself over the table, dress drooping at the front to display her cleavage.

Tony’s eyes don’t even flicker away from her own. The staff in this building know better than to try and indulge in what is rightfully Bucky and Steve’s. John, however, sees this as a prime opportunity to stare at what he believes he’s being offered, his trousers getting tighter.

(Y/N) sees it. She finds is humorous.

Bucky’s hands slide their way up the backs of his wife’s bare thighs, pushing up the crimson material as he reaches it.

Her eyes flutter shut and lips part in satisfaction at the feeling.

“Tell us what you want, doll.” Bucky mumbles, sitting the bottom of her dress at the base of her back, grinning at her lack of underwear.

“Touch me.”

The explicit word that escapes John’s lips are heard clear as day and he knows it, face once again panicking as he looks back at Steve, whose expression still hasn’t changed.

“Where do you want me to touch you, princess?” James continues, not paying an ounce of attention to anyone else in the room right now besides his missus.

His fingers stroke the top of her inner thighs, seeing her soaking wet core already dripping down them.

“Want you to touch my pussy.” (Y/N) breathes, eyes flitting open barely a millimetre.

James presses soft kisses on his wife’s ass before sliding his middle and ring finger lightly over her slit. The action gets a mewl out of her.

Fifteen men in this room in total, only two of them can touch this woman yet all fifteen are dreaming about it.

“Move.” Steve states, prompting John to widen his eyes once more, but this time the words aren’t directed at him.

Bucky grins and obliges, removing his hands from his girl and stands up.

(Y/N)’s eyes open fully this time as she whines in complaint at the loss of contact, but a large smack on her ass distorts her whine into a large gasp.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, sweetheart.” Steve states, manoeuvring himself so he’s stood directly behind his wife, Bucky casually pulling his own gun out of his inner blazer pocket and wiping it down with his hands.

John’s face stays facing Steve, but his eyes follow Bucky as the brunet moves behind him and out of his sight.

Tony takes the sign to back away and let his boss take over from here.

Steve has no shame as he unbuckles his belt, undoes his trousers and pulls out his rock-hard cock, stroking it with his hand a few times while his other hand returns to Bucky’s previous actions.

“You see that?” Bucky whispers in John’s ears, prompting the man to gasp and jump in his seat. He gulps again but remains silent. “I asked you a question.”

The man frantically nods, fearful for his life, and absolutely humiliated.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Steve murmurs, leaning down and moving her hair aside, kissing the back of her neck.

Before the woman can even respond, her husband thrusts himself inside of her in one go, (Y/N)’s back arching and moaning so loud that Christopher can probably hear outside the door, and Steve’s head being thrown back, his own moan equally loud.

Bucky almost loses his composure if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew not to falter when making sure a man like John Walker was wanting his woman.

“Fuck…” Walker whispers, lips parted as he stares at the woman in front of him being railed by none other than Steven Rogers.

“Keep watching because this is your death wish.” Bucky whispers, John’s eyes widening. “Does she look good?”

John nods his head almost desperately.

Her moans only get faster and louder as Steve fucks her.

“Remind him what you are, sweetheart?” The blond groans, grabbing the woman’s hair and pulling her head back so she’s more or less face-to-face with Walker alongside her other husband.

“A whore.” (Y/N) practically begs.

“Louder.” Steve demands.

“A whore!”

“I said: fucking louder!”

“A WHORE! I’m your whore, sir!” She screams, John losing it and standing up to lean forwards but a gunshot firing beside his head makes him stumble back down to his seat.

(Y/N) flinches are the known noise but settles quickly as Bucky strokes her face with the hand that’s not holding the freshly-fired weapon.

“Don’t you fucking dare move an inch toward our wife.” Bucky threatens to the man he’s leaning over.

John gulps but nods, not taking his eyes off (Y/N).

“Is she inconvenient now, Walker?” Steve asks, glaring daggers at the man. He only shakes his head, eyes only meeting Steve’s for a split second. “No?” He breathes. “Then what is she?”

The guest falls speechless, shaking his head as his eyes flicker between Steve and (Y/N).

“Hot as fuck.” He whispers, Bucky growling in his ear.

“Fuck!” (Y/N) cries out, desperate eyes staring at Bucky’s, who smirks at her state.

“Think our girl wants to cum, Steve.” He comments, John panting in his seat.

“Yeah? You wanna show this scum what a good girl you are for us, baby girl?” Steve grunts, not slowing down but rather speeding up as he too reaches his peak.

The woman’s head nods in desperation, face flushed as her eyes flicker across all men in the room, including Tony’s, who simply winks at her before removing his stare.

“Say it, doll.” Bucky demands.

“I wanna cum.” (Y/N) gasps, watching her brunet lover shake his head.

“Gonna have to do better than that, doll.”

“Please,” She begs. “Please, daddy. Sir. Please, let me cum!” Her voice screams, Steve grunting in response to the feeling of her squeezing his cock, milking him for all his worth.

“Cum, baby girl.” He permits. “Cum like the whore you are.”

And how she does.

Her scream could shatter glass, Christopher would be concerned if he hadn’t already established the differences between the woman’s fearful screams and her pleasure-filled ones.

Taking full advantage of Bucky’s distraction, John leaps forward to get a taste of the woman who’s almost passing out from the pleasure, but that’s the last move he makes as a bullet is shot through his back, knocking him down onto the table.

Tony doesn’t seem phased as he shakes the smoke from his gun, settling it back into his pocket.

Making sure the woman doesn’t collapse atop the, now dead, man on the table, Bucky holds her up while Steve sorts himself out before pulling her back across the table and into his lap.

“You okay, sweetheart?” The blond whispers, smoothing the hair out of her face.

(Y/N) nods but keeps her eyes shut as she rests against her husband’s chest.

“Words, baby.” He requests.

“M’okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Two of the security men alongside Tony head over and remove the body from the room, Bucky asking for someone to clean up the mess whilst walking over to his two lovers.

“We okay?” The brunet murmurs, Steve smirking and nodding before both paying attention to their girl who’s still half unconscious.

“Does anyone else in the room have anything to say before we carry on?” Steve asks, everyone shaking their heads frantically. “Good, now leave.” And they do.

“You okay, baby doll?” Bucky whispers, cocooning her cheek with his hand.

The woman nods and manages to open her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“That’s our girl.”

Tag List

Everything Tag List: @nosoulnoproblems | @rileyloves5  | @girl-who-loves-mythology | @avngrsinitiative | @lookinsidemyhead |@xbabykookiix | @myspectacularfantasies | @fanfic-anyone | @rororo06 | @queenofbuskers | @vapingisntmything | @tony-stank3 | @hermione-grangers-wife | @lili-ann-love | @the-omni-princess | @tayahs-blog | @regulus-black | @saturnsteverogers| @fyfiexo | @amazingiam00 | @deviltownn | @buckybarneses | @fafulous | roryshitposts | trynnabemultifandom | @moodboreddd | @hopingforbarnes | @an-adventureland | justassaneasiam-ll | @profoundllamanickeleggs | @xbongox | @minetticatinwonderland | @thinkaboutmara | @xxaestheticboyxx | @sparklycollectionofoldmemes | @wandaneedstherapy | @georgiadixon | @nerdy-thespian-10 | @nsb-supertrio | @thinkaboutmara | @captainamerica-is-bae | @spookyparadisesheep | @supernaturallover2002 | @notsochillnerd | @peggycarter-steverogers | @reann-shitposting |

Stucky x Reader Only Tag List: @polarbearnamedpanda | @marvelous-glims

[spyderslut]

it is not a white supremacist religion. They did not muder half the world. Look, I understand that people under the fold of Christianity have hurt people while professing to serve its tenants. People used/use it to justify slavery, segregation and ethnic cleansings. but it is not as some claim the root of evils, but rather a good thing that has been bastardized. I often hear people say "yea rome had like, gay weddings and a whole bunch of cool stuff but then Christianity came in and made everything conservative", when the truth of that matter was rather the opposite. by the time rome adopted Christianity as its official religion, rome was allready long on a downslide towards what we today would consider "conservatism". Emperor constantine merely decided to grab hold of a dangerous anti-empire movement and twist it to his benefit, much as how many heads of state and captialists today can be seen to co-opt the symbols of progressive movements to rob them of their power. but even then, christianity hasnt entirely lost its liberatory capacity. throughout history, we have many examples of people finding strength and inspiration in their faith for the pursuit of liberatory struggle! From the cavedwelling abolitionist dwarf Benjamin Lay to Gerard Winstanly, the man who stood on a hill rebelled against the brittish and invented communism to Dororthy Day and the catholic workers movement to Martin Luther king jr, the man who really shouldnt need an introduction. And who could forget my personal favorite, John Brown, the man who led an armed slave revolt against the state of virginia and with many the righteous swing of a sword personally liberated the heads of several pro-slavery heads from their necks! None of those change the fact that people have used the religion they profess to do awful things, but it doesnt negate it either. and neither is it evidence of anything rotten at the core of chrisitianity in particular. Any good and wholesome belief system can be used incorrectly. People have taken otherwise quite fine secular codes and over decades twisted them until it came to be that under the thin veil of "workers liberation" the Holodomor was commited. today, some use a thin veil of Judaism to excuse the genocide of palestinians. and again, none of that changes the fact that there are many a good comrade, and many a good comrade of many a faith (christian, jewish, muslim, buddhist, the many flavors of neo-paganism, etc) who do still use these codes (socialist, religious, both) to do genuinely good work! And part of those good works should be to acknowledge the past and present wrongdoings of those who profess to be in your camp, and working to fix them. and to get more specific on the topic at hand, nuns are usually great. they are, usually, wonderful people who put themselfs to work doing genuinely good work. the historical nun, Hildeguard von Bingen, a renaissance woman before the renaissance, she went on speaking tours where she talked about the corruption of the catholic church and the need for reform (which, its impressive that a woman managed to speak her opinion on a large stage in the middle ages, but especially so considering it was to criticize the catholic church) genuinely a very impressive woman for her time for all the things she did. and of course, the video that introduced me to her has a lot of extra fun stuff to say to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzyuYjIsYFE

And for a more modern example, for a person I know personally and a likewise amazing woman, we have Luisa Derouen. A woman who has been ministering to the trans community, for 22 years in secret and for over 24 in total, and she has done a lot for advocacy of trans catholics in interviews and blogposts and in person and whatnot. And of course we cant forget the bishop who made a proclamation that trans healthcare wouldnt be allowed in catholic hospitals in the US, and the many nuns that got together and spoke out against that. And I dont know, I just feel like requesting that people respect religious garments is fairly reasonable. far be it from me to judge what people are into, lord knows ive done many a quite strange thing, but I cant help but get the feeling that the fetishization of peoples religious wear is a tad bit disrespectful. Its a small thing to do to be a tad more respectful.

Everytime I see drawings of "sexy" nuns or people dressed up as a charicature of them I want to vomit.

The real nuns are women that freely decide to live in chastity and celibacy and dedicate their lives to help and serve people in need and they deserve respect.

[squirrelwrangler]

Hi! I found your tumblr because you reblog Silmarillion stuff. :) I saw some of your posts about WOT, and I was curious about it... Are the books good? Because from what I've read about them so far they sound kind of sexist? This is a genuine question, I'm not trying to start discourse. I just figured i'd ask you because you also like the Silm, so you obviously have good taste :)

Okay, so you're a Tolkien fan so you're used to the sexism discourse in old dead white guy fantasy. Which, unfortunately, Robert Jordan counts as since he died of a rare blood disease less than a decade ago. And hey, I like what I like and won't claim that I don't like some popcorn books/shows and 'trash'. But yes, I love Wheel of Time, its warts and all. And there are large parts of it that I hate or skip or think is weak- in part because it is so so so so very very massive, there's a graphic out there somewhere that compares the word count of WoT as that of A Song of Ice and Fire + Hobbit-LotR-Silmarilion + Harry Potter + a few other series to get to the same number.

Now, WoT is more formative to me than any of Tolkien's work, I am honest and self-aware to admit. Which is sort of funny, because of the irony. See, the first Wheel of Time book was published in 1990. And pretty much if you were writing epic fantasy back then, the publishers wanted authors to recreate LotR in plot and feel. So the publishers forced a more LotR-like tone onto Robert Jordan, whose interest was in world-building and a focus on a Chosen One hero who did NOT want to do this prophecy stuff (I'm also overjoyed that Dune is getting its more faithful big adaptation at the same time that WoT comes out because there are parallels). Which nowadays a reluctant hero doesn't sound all that revolutionary, nor that the books have a GIANT ensemble cast, or a strongly defined hard magic system with clear rules and systems that isn't just a copy of the D&D rulebook, or that there is a HEAVY focus on political scheming - or that the gender divide for characters is closer to equal (the first book has a mostly male skewed pov chapter, but then it starts to even out and most of the later books if tallied up are told from 50/50 or more female POVs). For instance, the Gandalf/Dumbledore figure is a middle-aged bi woman. By Book Three or Four the series can in no way be mistaken as a LotR clone.

Now, the author was a cis white vietnam vet dude and he wasn't perfect at writing female characters and there's dated gender politics - but unlike contemporaries, he was trying to grapple with gender, he made the effort to focus on female characters. Egwene, Elayne, and Nynaeve are almost or as important as Mat, Perrin, and Rand. In-universe almost all the societies are skewed politically to favor women as much -or in most cases more, than men, because in his 'he's confused but he has the right spirit' way, RJ was making a point about patriarchy. The tv show is having to deal with some of the core parts of the worldbuilding that is problematic when it comes to trans - as the magic system has a gender binary. But compared to the fantasy that came before it and its gender issues...laughs.

Are there way too many book fans that seemed to completely misunderstand the series thanks to their own internalized misogyny? Sadly yes. Same fans that also didn't realize that the fantasy world wasn't default white for everyone. (I am so very done with the review bombing of the TV show).

Or hey- I'm also a fan of a lot of shonen manga. Wheel of Time would not put up with how sidelined female characters are in almost all shonen.

The books won't feel like they're aligned with modern sensibilities in part because this is the transitional series. WoT and RJ actually inspired GRRM to write A Song of Ice and Fire and to have that political feuding families work in a fantasy universe. (Seriously, omg, ASoIaF/GoT is to me always will be the poor man's WoT. GRRM's POVs are more distinct from one another and thus technically better writing for most part- but worldbuilding and plot and characters and prophecy and shit, lol, WoT hands down win. Also, while there's a problem with BSDM/bondage kink undertones and such especially as you go on- actual sexual violence is VERY rare in WoT. And again- it sits between LotR and GoT in describing violence and battles. But also the masterclass in foreshadowing and symbolism and meta-story ...eat your heart out, GRRM). There is queer rep but it's mostly alluded, wink-nods, and not for main characters.

There's a lot of fantasy fans on youtube and other places that break down WoT and the issues and strengths/weaknesses, impact, etc...

But, the thing is: I read the first 8 books in a heady rush of enthusiasm when I was fourteen, maybe fifteen years old - and even though each book was clocking in of average about 900 to well over 1000 pages (they are lovingly dubbed The Bricks by the fandom), it took me about twelve days because i. did. not. stop.

I cannot objectively judge this series.

[novoaa1writes]

candles

image source

pairing(s): dark!wanda maximoff x reader

summary:

you’ve been feeling strange for the past month, particularly when it comes to dating. 

you do your best to ignore it, thinking it’ll resolve itself on its own—given time, that is.

it doesn’t. 

(and it’s got everything to do with wanda.)

[also available on ao3]

word count: ~5,300

rating: mature

warnings: dark!wanda, NON-CON spanking (with a belt), NON-CON BDSM play, mental manipulation, partial mind control, emotional manipulation, mental coercion, trauma bonding, toxic dynamics, drinking, possessive!wanda, non-con mind-reading, vandalism, adultery (not in reference to you or wanda), brief instances of slut-shaming

notes: [requested by anon] reader’s sexuality isn’t explicitly stated, but ex-partners of different genders are referenced/mentioned

— —

wanda uses a couple bulgarian terms of endearment for reader here, so below is a lil’ list in the order of which they appear.

принцеса | printsesa | princess [feminine term of endearment] мила | mila | honey [feminine term of endearment] любима | lubima | sweetheart [feminine term of endearment]

*note: all of these are exactly one letter away from being precise matches to synonymous terms in russian. HOWEVER, the bulgarian alphabet and the russian alphabet are different—granted, in fairly minor ways. for one, while both are comprised of cyrillic lettering, russian has 33 while bulgarian only has 30.  

— —

You have no fucking clue what’d gotten into you. 

One moment, things were fine—good, even. And the next… well. 

You’ll explain. 

It was something like 11:30 on a Saturday night, and you were drunk. 

Well, not drunk. More like buzzed. 

But whatever, right? Considering the week you’d had, you deserved to let loose, even if only for a night. 

Monday night saw a very angry and decidedly unhinged soccer mom banging on your door, screeching vehemently about the ‘two-faced slut’ who ruined her marriage and demanding to be let in so that she could ‘make her sorry.’ Turns out, the older guy your roommate had been sleeping with as of late was married—not that he’d bothered to share that particular bit of information with her, obviously. 

The two of you spent the better part of the evening barricaded inside, passing a bottle of cheap wine back and forth while trying to explain to the 911 operator that you weren’t messing around, that there really was an angry soccer mom on your doorstep and you were actively fearing for your safety. 

She eventually left around 10:00pm—no thanks to the police, since the 911 operator hadn’t even bothered to give them a call. It wasn’t until the next morning when you left for work that you saw the woman’s parting gift to the pair of you: the word ‘HOMEWRECKER’ spray-painted across the front door in obnoxious red lettering. 

Bye-bye, security deposit. 

That same night, you made your roommate promise to start dating people in a similar age range—because really, the both of you were stressed enough as it was without worrying about coming in between yet another middle-aged couple’s dying marriage. 

The rest of the week wasn’t much better. 

On Thursday, your balding creep of a boss had made yet another blatant pass at you in the workplace, making you seriously consider (and not for the first time) the prospect of just quitting and being done with it. 

Then, at shit o’clock on a Friday morning, you awoke to an urgent phone call informing you that an ex of yours (one you were actually on semi-decent terms with) had gotten into a fairly serious car accident, and still had you marked down as her emergency contact. 

30 minutes later found you showing up at the hospital just moments after your ex’s current girlfriend had arrived, which then prompted the whole ‘you still being your ex’s emergency contact’ revelation when the current girlfriend demanded to know what you were doing there, which ended up being… well, you’ll just say it wasn’t pretty, and leave it at that. 

And your ex was going to be completely fine, anyways. She just had some minor cuts and abrasions, and would need to undergo a fairly minor (read: minimally invasive) surgery over the next couple days. 

Before leaving, you instigated a quick check-in with the doctors to ensure they had everything they needed—which then turned into you providing a list of allergies, as your ex wouldn’t likely be conscious for another couple of hours, and apparently the current girlfriend didn’t know of her sensitivities to penicillin and phenobarbital… which the current girlfriend was less than happy about, if the daggers she glared at you were any indication. 

Whatever. You were just trying to help. 

You thanked the doctors, told them to feel free to call you if anything went awry, then asked if they might tell your ex to call you when she awoke. You thought about offering some words of comfort to the current girlfriend as she sat vigil at your ex’s bedside, but the murderous glower she shot you the moment you got within ten feet of her was more than enough to make you think better of it. 

With that, you left. 

So… yeah. It’d been a shitty week. 

And now, here you were: a girls’ night out at the lively nightclub you and your roommate had scoped out just last weekend, tossing back $12 cocktails and letting the trashy EDM beat blaring over the speakers drown out the rest of your thoughts. 

You’d been feeling a little weird all week—all month, really. 

As far as you were concerned, this was exactly what the doctor had ordered.

 So, when a cute guy wearing black jeans and a white T-shirt that was at least a couple sizes too big yet did well to compliment his well-muscled torso came up to you and started chatting you up at the bar, you didn’t blow him off.

The exact opposite, in fact.

He was nice, and funny, and had a gorgeous smile that made your chest feel warm for reasons that had nothing to do with the alcohol. When he flirted with you, you flirted right back. 

You felt a little guilty for doing so, though you couldn’t exactly put a finger on why that was. Either way, you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it for very long. 

After all, you’d been feeling hints of that for the past month, if not longer. It seemed to happen whenever you flirted with a cute guy, or went out on another Tinder date with a pretty girl, or even hugged one of your close friends. 

You’d get this painful tightening sensation in your gut, nausea roiling in your abdomen… a distant, lofty voice in your head telling you that this was wrong, that you already belonged to someone else. 

Which was pointless, really. Stupid. 

You were single. 

Your last serious relationship (barring the one with your now-hospitalized ex-girlfriend) had been over seven months ago with an eccentric guy named Lukas. He was kind, well-meaning… a bit of a dork at his very core, but you always found that more endearing than anything else. You’d dated him for four and a half months before deciding to break it off; because as much as you cared for him and enjoyed being around him, you didn’t love him, and you knew by then that you never would. 

You thought about him, from time to time—even missed him now and again.

And yet, the strangest thing about the shameful feeling you’d get whenever your roommate so much as brushed a friendly kiss up against your cheek—it had absolutely nothing to do with Lukas. 

You didn’t know how you knew that, but you did. 

Whatever.

This guy was not Lukas. 

His name was Des—short for Desmond, you learned over your fourth sugary-sweet cocktail of the night. He was charming and slightly foul-mouthed, but conscientious and passably polite where it mattered. He didn’t grope your ass or stare at your tits, nor did he make any lewd commentary about your body in any capacity. 

He also smelled… really good, like Old Spice and spearmint gum and the barest hint of cigarette smoke. 

That was more than enough for you. 

(Whatever, alright? Decent guys were in short supply these days.)

You smiled and let him buy you another drink, even after you’d insisted that he really, really didn’t have to. And when an obnoxious pop song with a beat that was far more catchy than you’d have liked to admit came over the speakers, you let him coax you out to the dance floor with minimal resistance. 

It was… fun. You liked the way his hands rested on either of your hips—gentle, almost careful; holding you like he understood he didn’t have a right to your body, like he was more than content that you allowed him this to even think of demanding any more.

Despite the twinges of guilt flaring in your gut, you let yourself get a little more comfortable… dancing closer and closer to him amidst a packed crowd of writhing bodies, letting your breasts graze up against his chest. 

It was teasing—provocative, even. A test, of sorts—one that Des passed with flying colors. 

He didn’t do a thing to rush you, just kept dancing across from you with his hands on your hips and his darkened gaze on yours—seeming fully content to let you set the pace for the moment. And God, but the way he was looking at you… patient but eager, like he wanted nothing more than to crush your body against his own and grind himself into you like an animal—and yet, still, he held himself back. 

You couldn’t help but find that attractive as hell. 

Looping your arms around his neck, you let your body to press flush against his as you swayed to the beat of the song, not shying away from the slight stiffness you could feel growing against your hip. 

That guilty, nauseous feeling in your gut pulled tighter. 

You ignored it, and, when he leaned a little closer to shout over the deafening music, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”... well. 

You wasted absolutely no time in lunging up on the tips of your toes to capture his lips in a messy open-mouthed kiss, the strobe lights of the club fading into obscurity around you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours—tentative, at first, until you pressed a little harder and traced the seam of his lips with your tongue… and, yeah; that did the trick. 

A moment later, his lips parted to let out a quiet groan directly into your mouth as he began to reciprocate in earnest, setting every nerve ending on your body alight with electrifying want. 

And that’s when it happened. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a twisted sort of clarity hit you square in the chest—slowly, and then all at once. 

The next bits were something of a blur. 

You tore yourself away from Des, turned to forcibly elbow your way through a floor of grinding bodies. You thought you heard him call out your name, and more than a couple people on the dancefloor turned to glare at you as you rudely brushed past them without care—but, whatever. 

You texted… someone, telling them you were headed back to the apartment, so they shouldn’t bother waiting up. The group chat, maybe? 

And now… Now. 

Before you can blink, the past crashes into the present, and you find yourself back outside in the pitch-black night. 

It’s dark… chilly. A brisk wind catches you the moment you stumble out onto the sidewalk, assaulting every inch of your exposed skin like scores of needles piercing your flesh. You whimper, shudder, and hug your arms around your body—trying to warm yourself back up like a scared little kid who forgot their jacket. 

For the first time that night, you regret the tiny black babydoll dress you’d chosen to wear for the evening—and that’s not even to mention the four-inch heels. 

It’s miserable, to be sure, but you can hardly focus on it for very long. 

No, you have to go somewhere. You feel sick, and cold, and wrong in a way you’re loath to even begin explaining to anyone else. 

And your head… you’re positively aching for something—someone to make this better.

You need… Wanda. 

Yes, Wanda is the person you’re looking for. She can make all of this better. 

You don’t know why, but you’re sure of it. You just need to find her. Hopefully she’s spending the night in her apartment on that super cozy sofa of hers, drinking hot chocolate and binge-watching something on Netflix like the two of you did a couple weeks back. 

A fond grin curves your lips at the recollection as you stumble off down the sidewalk, headed for the nearest subway station. 

Another wintry gust of wind hits you square in the chest, and you pinch your forearm hard, silently willing yourself to focus. 

The station should be less than a block down, if you’re remembering correctly. 

At the next street corner, you manage to brandish your pepper spray in one hand while you rummage around in your purse for your MetroCard with the other. 

It’s cold as hell, and you’re probably a little too drunk to be walking through the City streets alone right now, but you don’t much care. 

All you gotta do is find Wanda. That’s all. 

She’ll make everything better again. 

— —

Where everything else is confusing, there’s one part that seems to make sense—Wanda. 

You nearly pick a fight with the card reader at the subway entrance when it makes you swipe your card three times to let you through, and even the stairs leading down to the lower tracks are more of a challenge than they probably should be… and yet, somehow, the rest of it is blessedly simple. A no-brainer, really.  

You know which train you need to take… the blue one that arrives in four minutes. You know you need to stay on it for five stops before getting off. 

Once you’re up at ground level, you’ll have a short walk ahead of you—one that you know like the back of your hand despite only ever having been to Wanda’s a couple of times. 

You’ll enter Wanda’s apartment building, take the elevator right up to floor four, and boom! Home free. 

You do exactly that.

It takes a short time (thankfully) and there’s not an ounce of uncertainty within you all the while, like you’ve done this 100 times before.  

In seemingly no time at all, you’re there—standing on Wanda’s doorstep, knocking a couple times just beneath the burnished bronze ‘4A’ nailed into her door. 

Your head feels all light and dizzy; you’re still shuddering from the time you spent out in the cold; but—

“One sec!” Wanda’s muffled voice comes from inside, the mere sound of it washing over you like a soothing balm—promising relief. 

You’re safe now. 

You made it.  

— —

The moment the door swings open to reveal a bleary-eyed Wanda Maximoff dressed in tiny grey pajama shorts, an oversized Star Trek T-shirt, and nothing else, it’s like everything falls back into place. 

It’s like… like you can breathe again.

You’re still drunk, and shivering, and more than a bit confused; but now that Wanda’s awake and here and smirking like she knows exactly what’s happening even if you don’t, you feel… better, somehow. Not nearly so lost as you were before. 

“Y/N,” Wanda greets, stepping aside and offering out a hand to help you inside. You’re quick to take it. “I was not expecting you,” she drawls, though everything about her demeanor is saying the opposite as she shuts and locks the door behind you. 

You pay it little mind. “Yeah, I... ” you trail off, turning to face her even as an embarrassed flush warms your cheeks. All of a sudden, you can’t help but feel rather ridiculous for knocking on her door and barging in so late—especially without calling first. “I’m so sorry, I...  I don’t know why I’m here.”

Wanda just tilts her head, appraising you curiously even as the ghost of a knowing smile curves her lips. “Are you sure about that?”

The heat in your cheeks seems to intensify tenfold at that. “I… I need to tell you something,” you hear yourself say, and the moment it’s registered, you realize that it’s true. 

You feel… guilty, all of a sudden. Nauseous, too. Scared. 

You danced with that guy—Des. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… You kissed him. Why would you do that?

In the present moment, Wanda nods, like that makes perfect sense. Like all of this makes perfect sense. 

“Okay,” she acquiesces lightly, flares of crimson flitting through her measured gaze. “Is it something I’ll have to punish you for?”

‘Punish’ me? What—?

You feel Wanda’s presence in your head… inconspicuous tendrils sifting through your thoughts, worming their way through your scattered memories. 

No point in lying. 

“Y-Yes,” you hear yourself say. Much like earlier, it isn’t until the moment you’ve confirmed it aloud that you know it to be true. You danced with someone else. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… kiss you. “I… I’m so sorry, Wanda; I-I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You see the moment Wanda finds it—your memories of the nightclub. Meeting Des at the bar. Flirting with him… Kissing him. 

The look on her pretty features goes from bemused to disbelieving to absolutely murderous in zero seconds flat, and the realization hits like a freight train that you’re really in for it now. 

Fuck. 

“Go to the bedroom,” she snarls, her typically blue-green eyes burning with scarlet light. “Then take off that slutty dress. I want you on the bed, face down, naked. Do you understand?”

Your head is spinning; confusion rears its ugly head in your gut even as every ounce of your being screams at you to just obey—‘cause if you can just do that, the rest of it will start to make sense. (Maybe.) “O-Okay.”

— — 

You don’t know how you know the way to Wanda’s bedroom, but you do. 

You slip inside a room shrouded in darkness, and no matter how it strains your eyes to look around, you don’t dare turn on the light. 

It’s a modestly-sized bedroom with hardwood flooring, fairy lights along one wall, and an adjoining bathroom just opposite the entrance. There’s a tall, wooden dresser pressed up against the wall directly across from a large, king-sized bed. That’s pretty much all the detail you can manage to make out in the darkness.

Well, either way, you suppose it isn’t really your business. 

Wanda gave you specific instructions, and you intend to follow them. 

Not for the first time tonight, you’re quite happy about the babydoll dress you’re wearing—particularly for how easy it is to pull it up over your head and off, leaving you in panties and a strapless bra in a matter of moments. 

You fold the dress neatly in your hands, then leave it atop the dresser. Your panties and bra come next. In seconds, you’ve formed a small, tidy pile. 

As you step out of your heels and approach the neatly-made bed, you’re struck with the strangest sense of déjà vu… like you’ve done this before.

It lingers in the forefront of your mind as you crawl up onto the bed, biting back a groan at how easily the plush mattress gives way under your hands and knees. 

God, you’d kill to have a nice nap in this absolute cloud of a bed.

You shake the thought off, simultaneously willing the haze of intoxication fogging up your brain to abate.

You’re not here to nap. 

You settle face-down onto the bed, just like Wanda said. You’re careful not to rest your face on the pillows, though, since you have the distinct feeling that’s not something Wanda would want you doing without permission.

Instead, you fold your arms and rest your head atop your forearm, staring straight down into nothing. You scrunch up your features and let out a quiet huff as the black duvet tickles the tip of your nose. 

It smells like her—all of it does. Cinnamon, vanilla, and something indefinable; something that belongs to Wanda, and Wanda alone. 

You feel your body stiffen as a familiar set of footsteps draw near, approaching the room where you lie—naked and vulnerable atop Wanda’s bed.

The patter of Wanda’s gait becomes almost soundless as she enters, circling around the bed over towards the nightstand. You don’t dare to turn your head and watch as she pulls out one of the drawers, rummaging through it until she finds… well, whatever it is she’s looking for, you suppose. 

A moment later, there’s the telltale chk! of a match being struck, and a hiss as the phosphorous tip lights itself aflame. 

It’s quiet for a minute... then two. The only sounds you can hear are your breathing and the strike of a match every time Wanda lights another. 

Gradually, gentle flares of light grow in your periphery, bathing the room in a dim, yellow-y glow. She’s lighting candles—a lot of them. 

You’ve always loved candles. 

A couple minutes later, she’s finished, and she returns to tuck the matchbox safely back in the drawer. 

You lose track of her as she retreats once more, and your mounting curiosity is more than piqued when you hear her rummaging through the dresser near the foot of the bed; still, you don’t dare turn and look. 

Instead, you wait, fetid nausea churning low in your gut, pinpricks of apprehension dancing across every inch of exposed skin. Your heart thuds painfully against your ribcage as she takes something out from the dresser drawer, then shuts it with an audible thud!

You swallow the lump in your throat and urge yourself to focus on your breathing. 

In, out. 

In, out. 

In… out.

“I’m disappointed in you, Y/N,” Wanda’s voice comes from somewhere behind you, genuine hurt coloring her hushed tone. 

You have to fight the urge to shudder as a chill runs down your spine. “I… I’m sorry, Wanda,” you say meekly, pathetically, cheeks hot with shame. 

And the worst part? You’re not lying. 

You listen carefully for the sounds of her bare feet padding across the floor as she circles the bed once more, crouching down right beside you in the very corner of your periphery. 

“Look at me,” she orders, gentle yet firm. 

You do. 

The moment you meet her gaze, you can’t help the errant thought entering your mind that she looks so pretty like this—face bare of makeup; long brown hair piled into a messy bun atop her head; dainty features cast into darkened shadows by the low, yellow light of burning candles clustered together atop the nightstand. 

The muted light seems to soften her anger, her pain… allowing her to really look her age for the very first time since you’ve known her. 

“You think too loudly, Y/N.” Wanda’s words are dry, almost teasing as they jolt you back into reality. “Focus on me, please.”

You do. 

“You belong to me,” she asserts after a beat of silence, an uncharacteristically intent and almost solemn look splayed across her dimly-lit features. “I thought you understood that.”

The words confuse you even as they seem to resonate poignantly with some fundamental part of you… a part of you that categorically refuses to be ignored. 

“Wanda…” you trail off, bewilderment and contrition warring violently within your chest until it aches to draw breath. “I’m confused, Wanda,” you whimper out finally, overwhelmed tears burning in your eyes. “I-I-I don’t understand what’s happening—” 

Wanda cuts you off with a derisive snort. “Yes, clearly,” she agrees, her tone ripe with sardonic ire. “You’ve forgotten yourself. You’ve forgotten who owns you.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, desperately trying to make sense of it all. “Is that why…” You search Wanda’s eyes intently. “... I-I felt sick, an-and… guilty about dancing with Des.”

Something like anger flares in her gaze, hot and bitter, and you have to resist the urge to shrivel beneath it. “That boy had no right to touch what’s rightfully mine.”

“B-But then… why didn’t I remember?” you ask, utterly forlorn. “I-I felt it last weekend, too, but I… I didn’t—” 

“Last weekend?” Wanda repeats, features hardening.

Oh, shit. You feel your cheeks get hot again. “I… I shouldn’t have brought it up, Wan’, I’m sorry—”

“What happened last weekend?” she interjects, her tone cold and hard like a double-edged blade. “You can tell me yourself, or I can start looking.”

You shiver. “I… I went on a-a… a date with a girl that I met online,” you admit, tears welling in your eyes even as Wanda’s jaw visibly tightens. “I-It was just the one time! A-And nothing happened; we didn’t even k-kiss! I just… I didn’t… I didn’t know—”

“Yes. You’re right; you didn’t know.” Wanda stands abruptly, then, and it’s at that moment that you see the folded belt in her hands—thick, worn leather with a sterling silver buckle. 

An icy sense of dread blossoms in your chest, chilling you from the inside out. 

Is she going to—? 

“I was indulgent before… I let you get away with far too much. I will not make the same mistake again.”

With that, she turns to circle back around the bed, the belt buckle audibly jangling in her hands with every step. 

“I have to punish you, принцеса,” she continues, her voice scarcely more than a whisper as she comes to stand near the foot of the bed—and somehow, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there’s no convincing her otherwise. 

She’s going to punish you, and it’s going to hurt. Bad. 

All at once, panic seizes you. You squirm, writhing in an effort to get up and off the bed—

Only to be stopped by tendrils of lurid crimson curling around either wrist, forcing them together just over your head like magic—glowing crimson cuffs holding both arms fast to the headboard. On a whim, you test your legs—tensing and pulling, only to be met with iron-clad resistance encircling either ankle in a tight, unrelenting grip. 

Well, fuck.

“W-Wanda,” you plead, hardly paying any mind to the way your voice trembles. “Please, I—I don’t want—”

“I do not enjoy punishing you, мила,” she laments, almost sounding genuinely apologetic. It tugs at your heartstrings in a curious way—something you really don’t have time to examine right now. “But you did something bad. And when you do bad things, there are consequences. You understand that, don’t you?”

A tear trickles down your cheek, warm and wet as you steel yourself for the first hit. “Y-Yes.”

“Good girl,” Wanda lauds, and you can’t help the surge of warmth that washes over you at the simple praise—the pride that blooms in your chest at knowing you’ve finally done something right. “Now—try and relax, принцеса, okay?”

It’s all the warning you get before the first blow comes down upon your bare arse with a resounding Crack!

White-hot pain flares across your bottom, racing up your spine like wildfire and tearing a strangled whimper from your throat. 

Jesus fucking Christ, that hurt—

Crack!

Crack!

Holy fuck. 

The impact of the leather against your naked cheeks leaves strips of fire burning in its wake, expelling all the air from your lungs in a choked-out rush. 

“P-Please, no, Wan’,” you beg breathlessly, struggling in vain even as coils of vibrant scarlet hold you fast, “it hurts, please—”

Crack!

“This is for your own good, baby,” Wanda coos, sounding for all the world as though she truly believes every word of it. 

Crack! This one lands directly across your sit spot, ripping a shriek from your lips as molten agony rocks you to your core. 

“Wan’—Fuck, please, no—”

Crack!

“G—God, fuck, pleasestop, please—”

Crack!

“P—Please, hurtssobad, I’m—”

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

“FUCK !”

Tears stream down your cheeks, wetting the black duvet beneath your face. You’re absolutely beside yourself with torment, your bare ass aflame with a pain unlike any you’ve ever known. 

Crack!

Crack!

… And the hits just keep coming—raining down stripes of blistering heat across your sore, bruised buttocks; pummeling your throbbing, exposed rear until it feels as though the entire area has just become one puffy, pulsating bruise. 

Crack!

All the fight has completely gone out of you; now, your body completely slack—devoid of any resistance even as every hit seems to sear itself into your impossibly tender bottom like a third-degree burn… The pain is absolutely incredible, unlike any else you’ve ever known.

You’ll do anything—and you really do mean anything—to make it stop. 

“P-P-Please, stop it, Wanda, PLEASE—”

Crack! Another hit directly across your burning sit spot rips a watery sob from your throat, followed by—  

Crack!

Crack!

It’s all you can do to keep yourself from hyperventilating until you pass out. 

Crack!

Agony blackens the edge of your vision, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks as you await another strike… 

But it doesn’t come. 

Wh—?

“Have you learned your lesson, мила?” Wanda asks, and this time, her voice comes from closer… like she’s right beside you. 

You don’t have it in you to be startled when a feather-light kiss lands itself between your shoulder blades, nor when one hand begins stroking up and down your heaving torso in soothing motions. 

“Y-Yes! I—please, God, yes,” you babble, overwhelmed by the sensation of unadulterated pain branding every inch of your battered arse. “I promise I’ll never, ever, ever do it again, Wan’—Won’t ever be with anyone else—jus-just please stop hurting me—I’ll be so good, please—”

“Shh,” Wanda shushes you tenderly. You feel yourself twitch as the mattress suddenly dips beside you. “It’s okay, любима,” she soothes, coming to rest beside you. “Just breathe, okay? Breathe.”

‘Breathe’...

Your pulse thunders in your ears; your ass is on fire with an anguish far beyond your years; and yet, there’s something undoubtedly soothing about her words as they wash over you in gentle waves… something that tells you you’re safe.  

Were you a little more lucid, you might’ve found that quite the nonsensical paradox—this feeling of safety and security with the woman who’d just beaten your arse raw without mercy no matter how you wailed and sobbed and begged for her to stop. 

But as it is, you’re not. 

Instead, you’re just broken and teary-eyed and in pain, and Wanda’s tenderness is a most welcome respite to alleviate that excruciating ache. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath, even if it burns your lungs something awful, and force yourself to let it out slowly. 

In, out. 

In, out.

In… out.

“That’s it, мила,” Wanda praises gently, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re doing so well… Just like that.” Her fingers come to rest beneath your chin, urging you to turn and face her…

And you do, far too exhausted to even think of doing anything other than what she tells you to. Your lungs burn; your nose runs; and the pain in your bottom hasn’t abated any—if anything, it’s intensified.

You’re more than happy to be given something else to focus on.  

When you look at her, her blue-green eyes are wet—glossy with tears.

“Wanda?” you manage weakly, feeling your brow crease with worry. “You ‘kay?”

Wanda sniffles, huffs out a watery-sounding laugh. “Yes, Y/N, I’m alright,” she whispers, then leans forth to plant a gentle kiss upon the tip of your nose. “I’m just so very, very proud of you.”

Despite yourself, you feel a pleased flush spread throughout your body at that. “Really?” you mumble, exhaustion drooping your eyelids until it’s a challenge just to keep them open. 

Wanda nods, a tear sliding out of her eye that you yearn to reach forth and catch with your thumb—but alas, you’re far too weak. “Really.” 

You hum, burrowing your face further into the duvet beneath your cheek—even if it is still damp with your tears. “‘M sorry I was bad, Wan’,” you murmur, feeling darkness near on every side. “Didn’t mean’ta make you upset.”

“I don’t like punishing you, принцеса,” she says once more, and this time, you have no reason to doubt that she means it. Honestly, you don’t know how you ever could. “It hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

You hum again. Your eyelids feel too heavy to open. “‘M sorry,” you say. “Gonna do better… make you proud… I promise.”

Wanda chuckles. The sound of it makes your chest feel loose and warm and happy. “You already do, darling girl,” she murmurs. You don’t know if it’s because she’s whispering, or you’re fading into sleep, but you can barely hear her when she repeats it once more: “You already do.”

Sleep descends upon you, then, and you succumb to it willingly, feeling safer and more at peace than you have in a very long time. 

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tagging:

[marvel]: @normanijauregui​

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end notes: yeah i don’t know what this is either. i was only aiming for maybe 1,000 words or something, but things happened and...

look. i haven’t been to therapy in a hot minute, ok?

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