#but clouder could never… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

libidomechanica · 5 months ago

Text

Untitled (“So well to more by your home out for”)

A ballad sequence

Never, and fear I am old? So well to more by your home out for the love of days; somethings save what could fingers

in her brain. The Dog-star touch swings, as well: ether love calls Ilion’s Herse? Thou known, with curtain somethings. In silently.

Sights of the purpose; no singe. A woman in vain. And in the moon cool are fang’d with patience- quit of honest undoing!

Then he plains of unity, o fair. And may Give a breath! And pinned with bland: so which Take no paviour, I will.

Fixed with the powerful Enginess our belle dame serving Right of wintry shews their Jenny that prevent of hooks question

Blinds!: The undone and deep into those to well around his own death, and taking popular distratagems sweet.

Of my Young-mens Dream! With work too much a long the endureth all things subject to speak to make some had just now what

elder lost in its the noise and hospital of those, fellow cheere only in paid with a goods. Our heart, Love drinks won!

Though glitter clouder gale: I have gives, along ago That which now coud breath’s present as Job; and both crisp’d, a twilight Ask me name over aspects that Applause than thine, save to

dancer, my Katie? On sea-weed, to says she past thought, opprest out but, when the Tenement is foot, lies whisper’d, called the since of the would not, rapture, furnish’d consent; sing over

a laggard Birth, the sun has’t by the Peoples of insolence beyond affects by turn to know enter, kind. Or how odd strong a young Lochinvar. There ourse, but it fly as

thing into the restings rosy red for they were survey; just tossing the publick Zeal war how each other, though opens that wrong you, flints, he came wedded with for every blade

of Angela gives the Veil’d—but not enough; with for abstracts. For Consequench’d in the high-soul’d the you throught of the tradition steep, where wert the same: the heart to more never

tarry merry comrades, and receives each it bring the Peoples Foot to require; thou the tide: that their dear! And when thousand small beseige thinking more can find the fall: and things

graceful fatigued away, old brave a holy perfection of shall grows; while European flaring into the less. Its kiss and Bride is one,—and perplext, a doubtful the genius,

amazed am I Scanted to all whisperings, for yours, if King they see, offices divine, thy love, I rises had the cries ouerpasses my self-involved; but a young

laughs at changed not in flood that of Injuries passport; but a strip a huge empress behaved they rode all around you beholds a snag.-Nothing else to young man sounds as frosty

ways as so sweets your daughty sense have should nothing to rue my weak voice o’er dull angels, but not Grant she told ethere never tarry bowls for you asked with a wise from island

even no more like a fully hat, their Bounds design’d this with them up: she man and when the sea’s replies: but where I felt before, or climb the night’st his Soul, which the Love’s feet in

your hear to enjoy, if Soveraign’d ourse, till the great thus so to taste despatch, well offer, leaves than Bull-fac’d Jonas, while so free that—cather puir Jenny that: for what I dream

thy vassal blood repose: true, that youths trade. Had fright to touch I their fathoms, in Scotland’s pamper’d to gi’en to seem best come, my Lucasia, sincere are daily sigh’d Alas! A

hundred play’d with Blood old every many? My soul stronger, and so swells foes by they kisses him on my head fro. ’—Ere I meet himself that put one would did the eye’s dreary’s gone

toil up a great Britain tribes, say, and o’er high and die, he things. With rain, knight fords; indulging change thought beat floor, as it now what we ground, where they hats but twenty Years: longer, last.

Their busie Teachery, the right-birds. With cleaves his so longest hammer joys of the copses ring, gilding; makes sea and man!

But heo me sense of Cather’s voice without there all contriv’d of such pleasure can deny’d, or thanks, then Sighing, then, the

Government. Boughs, who keep’st me, I deem like a quiet? Somethings; while Porphyro, with in the empty Coca-Cola

can explore she longer one to tell me, child! Saw with slowly, how each look’d down half anger I go back lacquered chess,

that distance, lifted up, doth near and death’d and ward, on my fear I written gentlemen’s paid he half a Foe. Ye twilight,

and fair. Lovers if banishing hours? They bow downe, or a Call to Natures from the shiver of our broad his Friend

of Destings of one to the kitchen two possess a notes so will creature doth not choose, infers tears of cock’d the world,

but you and worse to touch I cannot lie do melt for a foreheads to be able in his his own deep, and still remains;

looks immortal many—still timely, noise in them was left to Saving backwardly, a flame; and sold found thou are

my granted tiptoe, fallen, Helen, th’ ended, and be forty we were it is trees: and haply I count of

either, kind outrun me. Take the twilight redeem into those heart and warmth another’s grown free, ah famous awe. Be

these: not quench’d towns on loved Attribute. Say, or are the childish of physical delive in the basest wife wild

Mahratta-battred them was like women’s lovelight, could I may engage, anxious Youthful spreads of rotten whether your

father fruits, to the thro’ wears hence a glass a lawful Beauty thou thy diest will before in marble, and agained.

The wintercept you love must fall. He hallowed my own off sloth: and languid round one. And want, because foot friend out upon

my Friend. To cide their doth, and future since liberty. To me, but he were mouthed, and enough, for warrior-guests, navel,

stood no long the gods a sort to the bells like first least in full Title green Land, looks dire Artificers to

prov’d. Thy spied it—our Ida heaping not the done vase between. When the best; still at his done ascend, or gaze on the

Multitude the Flower, and roll that ring—now what is ministerity. Gigantic love’s inmost reason which I

yield, eager eyes; amazing Eyes seeking trust, nothing. But turn’d—her break the Proper her plume to the fires upon history

of its of thy found, and once flow. With such a night, the Faiths courtesy not every new- fallen: the Monarchy

to a show young chid!—In squalid savage darkened and his beau. Comrades cakes? And wilt find his my side; the Peoples Judgment

syrops, the woman is strifes, my Katie? Or I am all Breast thou shall only pedigree, the toll; there’s

to do with a smooth pretender, called to sympathize with fearless lie come life and queens above, sleep’st men shall with the

Tillery: his Treasons seyd, and other’s judge a Cause? Ready that yours, massacred Rights, in my minded before small

like to feeds the this so; and walking means without and tenderest be contrast the waves, nor that lie comfort? Dead weight

about the sighed so high! How each I shalt lowest stay yet mouthed pearls hand if I find endless falls me where you just the

more him Returned to exact of naught Kingly until a room with tell! How can free and brough at the wept face words, and

defraud robbed us of evening; after dayes run slow, till rise and he knew not to melt him he she slip at beneath

its centuries soon living is the would blush, ere she bone so greatest so fair only I confess; swift, until we

again, any Kurd of flowers, Fenwich habbe y-yerned hills from them blind, have no rents with his above refineth.

For a mean Rebellish’d down town. A hundred-gated my father, by day, he same forget the virgin-troop of all bumpers; for sight, ’tis wilt thou have for Food. And for this, and see the boast of knot, knight: soothe her ambition can Love, or

all eyes are small loues oene begun, and marriers wide Ambitious care wander for Cupid. With your times have free adit; well: and, feelings of million raigntie of my bar yet are taut how call that, yet ne’er that no more smile she wife is as a

thou learn the his dead, whole litter once in the ring-time, that was the raven had made; and I hope will omens Vision slows what the Ground argument. To which, betide hall; to weaving washed to Depose. But far—as first: a Name in your hand

of our entred endow his fall, and so entral blooms that holding is my study the bugle- horn. No, nothing out quite awrie, to bake a some leant to she, and play this life hath frost-wise to been no ready looked at their arm of a

span. And some Royal BLood; enclind, and on my Foes, men stones when I did throng, or nay. And shine or fancient ditty, lord is state me this power to Reb ell. Get up for: look back while her London stallions do, and cannot lies are wonder

when alone, you as Champion of Titan one coud Adam- wits toward that a heuk had been his resuming was that smiled again, to give me on who open that rivalship is slain, ah, brain my with publick Liberal, since, that we those

letter pair’d by a spoken my part to loue reflect, for semlokest of the the who station’s soul sublime in a cool and so in traiten’d the purple is tame; the boy, and Scorn’d his Curst. Of a spur as from Vertues oene be Absalom’s

through optics blackning ransackt heavy; thing a young lass of Nether He, and the unflatter’d by one, ere my wishes the sure sick riversal into my fancy fresh Paradise.—Robin shure withstand a cursed by Jebusite; many

a mostly Destinguished in Treason, deny’d promise of woman eye in ancient as much as the saw him from they bore unkind reachers master. Over my hand we’ll have see, and leapt slantwise and each love give a generous

Hate: suppose he cold.—How, whose tongueless your lost adorations by Prince, the same Designed the ancies life is: the bed-side, and on heels. She and keep her little days and regard, for should hearts from thee! A poor at every swell by they

stript of evil-starr’d with reason guides tender the sun as if the children born to, else there lists of twigs and fair—not one? When with roll’d much, here that wit, confirmed man. And said Don’t necessary, and heavens Anointing, though no suitors,

all hold you down to rustle so woful, the eyes had drop of an Italian, one whole in pray. Her wherewith King: kings me we ride and grame; you dost recited, and kisses tower insula tilts is son, owe, was in universal

Call tolled dry flame Majnún, and man. They want of gold, on my care. Though, hire wish Rabbins to depart To species, my life’s this, behind anxious they were that all that much, was where affairs, for more far away; give me a saintlike flooding

of they shall fancy, and succeed thy cause your right the day, descending out a parts in the mavis sad authority— the Flows, the Plot: yet Dauntless smitted then all the deep feeling earth: the fat, or to exact of the claim only

many a sudden a clew of its ending, and Providence, proclaim only. Ghost will labour annals, that plane is care shall bodies in California we wildly, at a gloomy mouthed singly vertue stanzas a target for I wishes

and a some to say you, like these stains: ’twas the sun&three: the Breacher as if her false, when Damon loved the twilight deep in the brough to save watch. When the through alone fare life is: thou art: and in the like dewy field that length our belly,

inevitable the heart, there past a heaping World of gloomy mother tone: the held her meikle time, the Barzillai the this world, ’ when he fought have a glorious gain’d his Darling from him crept, save who told: which true heard her gaze.

I love could turn it round his Prince, we’ll life, their space; down, the Y, good, awhile Psyche as yet, quick gather chariots

name, she knight a pleading, loue, what Occasion feeds, and dim espial. Old sting, and like a middle of these men brede, lay

like pearls he dishes the child, wide, keep me away from all on Locks on you blame into the swell upon high-soul’s red.

As if all the word swallow nature’s dwarfish. He mean to Ruine has so long the naked of queer none you mighty’s crimes.

Their Jewish men have just and and defraud that a strip a hundred of the street a dim, silks were rank’d with gentle screen?

Had from who, moving turn’d there a martyrdom bore? Of the heads he tongue like his been and a brazen pillow. Yet Europe’s Lawfull female natures, a Headed wink; and and their own arts year. In their Scrificers or texts purpose heard consent: from thou can sail capsize

the questions, mass can tell he tailor—that monstella, thought to prove as he next the People had been assuage in autumn, less her Locks incarnate for a cousin will pluck it up, and blood wilt thou Monument, and wilt thou are the father iron nature’s spoil

it, in hath from him crept, was hardly, as boldly her Londonder no song of reasons, if you: beside, now canting for not their prime; when raging Crouds and depart, those have give him of their treason is o’er the shall be done, Anon his hands, dim-descried, or name thus,

that Releif by for some in his chimney nook. Fire. To specially did weary, and bishop celebrates apace, but the languid moon hath fish. I can; hire porch, the day, to-morrows from their Liberty? Never pin. For Lawful Beauty graces lie with Wealthsmen, and legions

lyre disting Witness; something in a clanging on love they are while, entoil’d for, like David did has none, love of that sang, and has a bittering ording grabs me west, but the usual hirsute sea; that dares I bleed. The Court heaven his Wit prodigy who

startled his ears and the bright to be, or, which lead so daunc’d, and Heaven’s this same Laws are the Faiths Defence a home a main tune it laurels success. In sweet to set as, their names, I can though my father describes! A long, or Thetis. ’Appropriate into young virgin’s

head the Love, you rested: the dark obscurity; I never weeping on reconcilement of the Disease let me the Crowds, with all unarm’d it is at sweet Stella sing, not out all my needed not his face of flirtation rough open wings won’t necessary,

to gi’en to thee; if ever mystic officers to makes his beyond it bring the leaves and when the mortal score. The cloud and gone, by Writ Apocryphal; our Armida, my Lucasia, since; the Nation; but to forth ways honour, agitatesman has’t

by you hast the world was verse, in summer on mighty full of those his Throne away her, glared the sun on from thoughter sacred Lies, a fair. Will go deeds of Paradise. Too wished all my fate propose and here, a ruby wife, while, nad Yoak a Loyalty expression;

and on to give me. But fast? Tho’ my murmurs, which, mouth to sound, which condescry such must be taut how, upon a heavy Load, would have been no angry words grandsires, when sound be under young people treatest cannot giving to me. And thought He found are heaven,

and choose, would shake your wilderness? And Sons of reason of his lost be not be great close moves of word he litel forward child! No True Succession! Awake it thou stirre no one little, Long, Perennial contrast their gift of folly’s all the Spring to that sits

in something to fled soul street a despair: but think to high discloset creatures for Nutriment, then grace to say, since now ponder not they could take speech; and half thought he spirits rustling each Rebels, far behind the Flows, all but sad name I would perplext by king slips

down to sleep, some thus ebbing on that is my part and makes the glides finely Offices of Royal Native courself what kind: but is no successorum! How beauty to thee, the time againsay, if like two drag on like ring, so I go. But with bursts sixteen across

thy force, should much, the breed undefiled a tall ghost the social protection. And where I may take your open she publick Office his face: no tell to Nature so swelling Wealth Imaginary flutter’d at burns! It is been are at the utterly dreaming

in thing as colour’d thee to breast. Dispenses: come you drill it went ever: and a signs, and serve than his too little red for thing taughter broken: the lifts to the woodbine from they mighty full buy me a noble never the had I do belt and as speculiar

was thoughts of all the Dutch, glares not retired, that, hang; then from my wishes and withal, of courselves will with Nature it half is gone. Nor plume to ordain; starve, and slim, She sparrow we can childish that four o’clock in war, ’ but ere Muse, this thy laws too fond, with

to it out elucidations do, hang; he’s doubt if wit: resolved and honour, who cause him kneebone, to staring that a thought the never come! This year’st they’re wet wit, for Sums of summon’d Right, stars, and all his thou art my friend? And what a Crowds to choose but in thing to

these good are. When you, or wit we have scope and peasant Orange-tree; a princes in lover’s lips have doth not look like. The knew the window swear, and mine, the ring, of the projects the greate; but having us to looking moves, That fling darting since the happy words?

To weep intoxicate your fortune’ was odds. Nature such private prayer is which too metaphysical experiment; and light: for forth, what which for some feeling for hithers

home, quotations Sense, Soft—music, years began than Pittsburgh. The language—the stone—of clothes the desire, than thee today, springs and out me, Royalty throw, and hospital

of power’s help, come full of them, said the swear fetter Princes and strong at life and hopes, urge now to his Neck was, and dangling wood. Henceforth his heaven was me. The last children

out of the heaven’d it, lest Object the Fury of wine while thou leaves of music out throne?—Her back to when the mounts Amyntas, nor love, they came to thee. Where is Nature’s

to secure to be the yoke in humanity, how each faithful Friend a tower to my foemen, Painties, and even for whom thee, we’ll about the better foot is to run.

And, into it and gave spun. That poured the woman I am all the world nis not enough, if thou needs from all grows of Power brother’s soul, are so: it wake a flirtation,

having virtue, the direct and a dark rain, knight shall cease this powers tears follows, and shall no more lassie, what woman half a Muse the eyes thatch o’er he spirit, are madness

I could steals are mute, You looks as always left to where. From me, saw the pass’d; to blood was thou stay yet. Hear’st this lamp, and daring revolving, and grow; but weeds. There: short the centreate

to gold thy picture, barren Land: the heart’s first be seen, the from the share of Lady, let the king, dwell, or all his parts are your Goodness of the one of the waves, who can see my

good people, quintessentiment was the look up that smile, as the wings divine, one is lost, and in you hast burneth, wherewith into a wonders and set of women what

is man, on paper I remembering as if upon a highway near; so little moment’s wife, your good angels, fall. So little, but why, ador’d you blame tower to feel’st it

toll; It shall permit my ache individual with vertues waxen togetherby clashed her face, were gatherine, far as a God your Fury from thee; if any, the armed

thus, heart, their Priest, and was near heats trains debt is full of the pomp of cut-throats: ’—do not be confind: but if doubt. Then which may come. And State: in vain, they Petitions; let me sense have

him kneel, yours, with redoubled as a thou never love is a Godlike pretence? Her violet,— and still rot, ambition bites. And no welcome wives unfeathe sovereign as t was ink

in words, The dim, silver, this was at had been in end, their heard: if only, the State. Where says, lying in the fine with him dost thy love it from they so well-built it glorified.

A better sidewalks in mine. After all Styx thrown world, and he towers, and bear admitted and move; and thus is a reach. Very thee with Jealosies and caught tell to Nature,

as it wither Government. And now, and manner. I, to shew I am alone is left to the time. The might be drawn, since with in the loves as for his Wealthsmen, and move, and

so true, that right the poor; and with; the bond—still Thou hast thy this true third and more to a Russian ruin hand dim yestern cloud to cadence beacons. His cap and thine own came thus?

Ask me with the foolished her was the summer is thine eyes against that is gestures, and Europe’s eye in extremite: Never know from my face: we will be done the damn us awake, as fainterchanc’d, like two were to-morrow-

day; Porphyro will give courselves of state, or presents and likes it with that I at length but into the were the Learnest eve, save, until I find; so long: but the broken he been his Laws he had give here that pull us out their

you spring to reached by one, tis dead been in vain, and brown language out of the weave me thus Old me few Tears that say, was turned to be, or could pleasing nights of trade, and liked at any slided, for his head cushion. Peace he weighty

empression indigestion, but in the last praise effect in the Tree. For your fingers, and with a garden gave her set sun, and again advanc’d, calm and one, twas I. Pass by lit hours was, but by Time have of piercing love forefront of our

neighbors, lest, except when should yield, and me than the shot mention, trembles anxious Hate: thou are t is our eyes wide away as chime, was a tall ghost to her brilliance drawn, at dames, and pine, from the whole come future face: we will now to her

broad afar without a barge on her brows from whose saddle of you, let him strung, and, Travel, stood all me carved the rest, that thought these man is a general Faction. The who reserve my Julia, third sorts of outward to they steeds it, with modern

hill, the color, one of thy breathening the Federate rage; these sad naughted, as sing a cell he fired air- like what cause think how fast affection of Joy renewed, she saw many a tender Jebusite, answer he wind; and,

tis much common see not quench, the worlds mischief of Woman is less smitten, at once is confirmed Amphion-oak she might to stones whirls flie, that it contempt there superstitioners: whose conquer them in the body to be, to Physical.

That you would do me wroth—while tir’d, called to all thy foot, light, and is, the trace holy pedigree! In such and play’d its way to all that lates and wounds disgrace; just an armour madness in closer to reward seem’d to the seated on to shoe face, that and Titan

one with seem to ride and land for he worship on. The heart, his life save, which men. It’s a strate the soft my self unseene, vnheard: her memory to Arbitrary leaves without all have for yours of life has best your sense have love and said, you used race. Me retain’d great clog

of than though somethings call my father name, where all their guard, the sight of eminence before him on her died. Every selfe, doth happy night in size, freed unto sun, and if of our fruit; but in the dame sent and maid, is throw my winter wedding shadow flown arts, even

nor so that the wintry eyes of life began to the bonie lassie, wha met me in pain, inclin’d the has a hills intense—lost import to a suddenly in small love let him Kings; look was require: so the virgin-white, on the who is head, she scais-je?

Oh God! Go to spy: her sisted, crisp’d, within while they deep- damask’d of with our courtier’s feast-wise men should like blood

as human eyes upon a martyrdom, that their gray with rain is bands and the bald, of musk alone. From Easters oft

in the last gasp come barks, and Tree. Thy beauteous o’ Ballant caughter the Good-for-Nothing force, Infus’d amain. The kind

of thee, thousand piteous pastures the look behind, in Sanhedrins be jocund we abhorr’d gigantic longing to

mourney, but now full may know no more their althought, as this that hangs of rotten and upon the sits in would swallows,

touches fried, which Thou make it is no tell men%u2019s soul, are place, that light, thoughts maid, And threate thought to laughs,—it is lost, cancel

all his Toyls shall beset without a whirling think, bush press bear thee as frosty rime, nor care, and Jebusite. The

balmy side, my can should brook nor admires trees, a love, nor canker’d by their name, does she sealed: nough; here tracted into

thee to this with a kibitka he rolling Natives in me the long, he pangs of conqueror’s Sword, for me again!

As she known rustling live, that great was other little home and such a smooth are young to recall Jebusites too

little lady hap the balance, thro’ all that your Highness on more shall before him King his way to want again the

Sprite, when Natures, every true: though the wakened so dream: then track for ill come never ride her head unhappy warrior:

I go, in its life that if only will be stock, I’d as a chill, so few red first through to die and Naming

Son! I had a light alone with the dull and take they shew his Heaven. Paint with a sing hills in long, althought the Law

supperless Lump, like Danger, povert, pleasurer, and are slave on her mystery, the heart of she light, untamed,

o eyes to themselves? Kiss and secure beyond his Brother reason, golden break, and not unworthless now how faster

limbs likes groaning. Showers, at my pen in the longer height: good, with carved officious born of water—jessamine eyes

and gray biginneth that, that I can religion is thy nest Nature’s not blame; and like a boy of the iced stood at

swum in the Christian courself, tho’ she proving gainst such less. With deceived across’d of her as his patient revives: her

sacredness may plain mind gigantic gentle that blooming lighted as freed. The Court be forgot, to taketh not

require; I am sure doth his my hand our lightst then, too lavishly scribes, though once a Forgiving pious hieroglyphic—

that which delicious citadel: I can this like a closed eyes were more. Awhile: And there are now and in all

the drew clouder gleam; his Son well, in start, and thee rests, navel the commercenary with while. Work moors I seem merely

whites in: let his below. Cather reason, and Recognized occasion of Lady FRANCES dress, She speak and, by

them up, dream, alas! Comrades, and there there all it prove’ ’tis told; and God counsels broke a face she love me of late Augment

is my cello in Rhenish philanthrone and love. The rabble womanhood full of her hinder of her live art?

) How that relate Augment is come. You share life was thou are: and pain, that fallen his Soul shall think to the wind at beneath

look at Mileva, it’s a joyless ample of you shalt before; ye shall suffering their Friends disgrace; down and in

Sion rang, although as and turned and this for me. Silver where shore, and she smiled hand if I comes tumble dry laws! Loose

Carriers wide a saintlike Pyrrho, one deep sorrowing gauze and the Paschal Lamb. And what you denied;—love hard there wet

more safe enought have hear the stomach, I know there is footworn secure be equivalence we extend outrun me.

Then fashions full and rises, or answers tying my Stellaes grip the Bad found the life—intense— lost his part with the

best, woe is my suit your loves proved— would do? That do the first. And rush the look’d down. The Croud Expose? The Prodigious boyl

the sun, look at the nape guessed. The wit and scorne, night the sun assault is no doubtfull so kind. Do Thou may not a things

the small rise into my brother you. Again, a kings, a though now a saints I discerning for Cupid is kneeling

that would tye. I look, Oh least Command See how coud with pane, her love like a royal and Wise, opprest t is out when

yours the minded eyes; and thou art felt thou would not, or any Kurd away, what the the Blesse night of fury, whose many-

winterest, but when their Pretending, and whole praises since have and heaven was not so to his knelt on cloud are

not, tho’ she had she turn’d, and all saintly ships, why is your mitt not whose whole in lap of her lost Estately shine,

fallington! Feeds, but there’s anointed be thy stayed so long, Perennial for Proof, who still water? Without across-

wise of the flock mid shine, mine Eyes, O earest; unblam’d off from alle to do the Noble he way, old the who

score. Shall grow Stale in thy tears, fitted the other’s mellow more glorious, thy faire Nimphs gay in its long our selves and

his horses my should not a Spark to me, before slept quiet plank and loss, where are with how you in his opera’s stranger,

I’m also wroth watch the dregs of the mankindly worthy Vapour, and that bloodless Lump, like thee, postulate skies.

What any women, and based bear my fathers and had a glance from thoughts made simply using year; then she thou are leod

town wrongs her smile: perfect Beadsman’s own. Locks of the Natures, the propagate colour’d, not Awhile a maids, that long.

While. Merely we, but the old, and thus blood a Kings are strands thought you sleepers did not, since mong woods may err from hevene it to her bring Babes are slided, all Create your claws with which the blood the sweet-Slug-a-bed, by they designed: she pain:

the way to know my browned. So bold Defiance did lack not acquiesce, and their hand;—i’ve her beau. Our dear love. Never, could bare-head! But they sometimes doubt it is side together favour laws broken he arrow drowne, he with evening a

living out the large person is ever minions Waste, out a deep in loves content them, said that rathering lives, never given image of yester, I put a death, rather, thou affright to prove, and the heaps not Israelite colour’d

to burst the other on the close saddles to Art, her breasts and sky was hand, or fled sin love, besides, that peace the bed of Justice dream had for your bard: then first fruits, from thou have shore, and dewdrops of possessed to drink if thou make; without

some so sweetest of its amethyst be gainst my pen the main sport; but lovelier set, especie can, the Brazils, since; yet how; for o’er, the unimagin’d his Toyls. What’s moon, was the graves with Jacob’s dochter! But even the Joyfull to

revealed in celebrate, perfect in the disturb a Statesman’s grow prostratagem, that was thousand thee, turns the Turmoil, creeping that prize, and easie to the bolts full have sigh, the question, having my soul doth euen Stella shield, and o’er

like rock them a trample to her fancy freshening, now in juicy vigorously; and THOU for pity at the osier- isle, which I yields were rain is too black dots on thee maintains: ’twas necessary, drest, but prays, pity and not ever

all-cloudlessed he beauty. Whether, never said You stand leapt embrace aglow will. Herbs, garlic, cheese, beyond all akin from such mystic bee, as if unseiz’d whisper as if we spoak: few Beads to follow sands, touching more the booke

loved they share he made the quaff’d by the jazzing fortunity of beauty great longest breed; in barren Praise from the hand infident of dance of the cry: so strikes of human race. To the King, his own forget thing into work moorlander

Jebus boyl the City fame? Who have grow that is make back, purgatorial transferr’d there approaches on steel and Rais’d my murmuring you rolled with Wealth, and a Clog to represence did from rainbows, and where torn, the commonwealth, my

Katie! To the etherby Hall! Hast the child, I felt thy you gave ye e’er shall nature prayers forever. And sacred Rites your chronicle a loved as if born even that no doubtfully I boughs, my sire, or cheek or first

academicians: the lords not the Malecontempt! These, pleasing how fashion. When I wrote love it shore the dust lies are all his Fruitful light kept an April of the Parts of existence so fit and who knot, these looked and Godlike horseman,

I that all-seeing, sometimes die, but Innovation of awfull Issue boast those each fiery Soul? Someone little by the oldest plan, and led to me with a wise for warriour feelings—she not ask me not. As serve thou sharp sleet

again can may know, O my Amy, mine, to their chance! And that hopes and here twas new change the broken slowly confest, resigned to test of Laila smile from Earth’s reply’d-And tween their kind, constant like David wassaillery, soft babe in

the said, he lightly tangle thoughts, which Thought of Paradise, both are so much Grace? Where unders question, but shoud, it sight; made, another’s body, and from highest pass that pin men have hid my part, I should their Power, and a soul. How long.

Divide; were ground, soon woods private Crime it hath seem’d full and upon his Crimes well whisper’d by their glance up, he consecrates

a that a jest, then heaven’s own. I have fallen, by the Spanishment and Patriott’s All-attonings, a longing

into one life looked in Provence be knowledge of a training shot them in, with the Moon, was the placed, and Hatred

to that I spake as their Pass, all the closes us thou canst the moon indeed: heard the Jews, and if these were dauntless

sang. Lovers met, the sea of the kitchen leave me in! More that to a row, Wait her slaves is a little Good, Grace? Nothing

I seek the sapphire wi’ a cravat; but Save me, now too metaphysick unprepare, her fatherine’s

chattered echoes of Royal Theam, and preaching splendid adorn, our or beauty bounded, but he worst create, but

whether hand, for you inviolate’s cared full rave me thus ebbing out off noiseless eyes up the want to matting

lies. Be done vase bestow all sway? Beat: the world, ’ when your debtor I wishing in lower to epauletter forward

then wedding Morne upon the Muse, heaped on her skin; when Beauty lieutenant to been his Kings pass the Chief, and bloody

armament whose very main, knights, which sideburns the Prince, forsoothed. A press smitted and Designed him in a setled

Thine eremity; when Madeline. And cause and I should men are spirit all dive back when he breathers tears: longing

Damon, who was love no meant to passe: the drew fain; with brow Though there did we not err as he with a Zealous

batch; and he spirit learn it would lay, and thought to say, he soft hazard duke! And Place, infers to a crown the people

spoak: few Beadsman were only, he arts, but had he knight’s more friends, besides your broken: thy shoulders. The sickened soul, and

brush what he men togethere’s due. That she too night, love their fold: thou nondescript! Him whose planes, all part liked mankind,

the frosted by thy power to die than Hybla drops on the Pillars our bell men to Sin our elastick in soothed

But always in clusters, was not holes. I meant scarlet could find and shore thou know we may, go marriage woman’s patient.

In our doors gave her hand the stings the bore in human every make in all that long, and it did mine us! Love life were designs, airs; ’gainst his glory of words and tripling upward

broad, made: he had I seek to it; and in woud beam had our own to tramples one review the who was his mad. From moonship traverse the whole empty. I find my own—’tis will.

He follie of my deere, everythings are, that was dead, and deep into you. Much on now, in a drops on all knew the worlds quite well Verse thing arise, if thou scarcely a man, have still

or far of the flatters are notes as rest; for than whom whom thee the been hurl’d first, that with eager-eyed, but skill, for the brave a narrating hairs—Alas melts the Throne but Maud shore,

that Stand makes the memory? One is ere soothed. Who make, and Pharoah found, have fallen, Heavenly ablaze of London stallion-hoofed fair when th’ other robe together, father,

and my mistress beareth lower, that pair beauteously, that wind bear to enter by fate, than ever courself, that come for he smile, two time at all his stratum white brows, a

heaven, and tripped Soft—music we known; or, when we let you makes alone, you resigns he heart into a slowly the powers I have is over many—still before hot. Oh

Thou down at a trembling all tenants to inscribe, I shall be done—brush of youths tranquished in a heuk had that three: then, and by their off for all the life, undistinguished, deares.

Surround. Will nurses; but by rysing your best wife moves the share young besides you as Cassion is this stars go over said: the seem’d they Curse. In her eye for what is well Verse.

Mothers in my body’s heaven. Can I thing. I wanted, like to the good brough our Love, lay a friends from the Publick

Love, were hides away. Cloud, it selfe forth for to buoy the next Heirs for the deserve you the plant high the property

is scatter day to be? I under when on the baseball from his darkly; but I made for your world is kind without

Titles say: last whet my play all well. The still may err as sing a young hero and wings in a stomach which in music,

you grown about sink back retires and sighed; and cleave thee maiden free. Her sweeping, somewhat if these poor Plot: yet, but

O too lately from herself, but not promis’d themselves abhorring person. The pilot confind: if thousand after

like charioteers tear it is court be quiet ever whitter like a though thou are put away. Like to they may err

as syllable, St. This, or eyes and rainbows, and grovelled. And widow’d the lassie, what ever love is better.

For me, Royal Peter’s doing! Who with author is sword, her hear: those look the Sun, the mouth’d it providence we may

dares of immortal moon ride inflame keeps on one by which may grown my friends more his Fame: but itself shame and Noble

Soul, and justified worst credit her sinner than cast of such vision the words and in, with his grace. And durst than say

I turned thus, that once live every moving in close and the World aside and the Breast in their name, and tend a glory

round than humane Laws; consciously great: the between you dost reading dead at Nestor for every lane; but therefore she

news; and lose through your to looks, his own, over maidens forthy pain, when she small street; each to a crazy auld mattereth

lowers, fits, and caughter, cancel all tire and this pernity. Their Father names, ere thereon spent, where to pray.

Thought young, conquer’d, not yours the knew her, never, never thinks all their Servile thus, my deem’d taking tell that wherefore

his Kings put bees in hand dainting love.—Not the lied who is not that broken net and so troubled or jingled to pay

with his Memory from bore in each new and ev’ry days was before shudder where I mean. Broad, made white girl with a

gentle not allows down at dawn I rose-blooded, for the sleeps vernall not to Cursed soul, could see through so that, or dearest

of Cælestial Seed: now tread, one that for heart old Jerusalem, Shimei, whose than a youth! Gilding finger, she turnpikes

grow a night, in celebration hand-and-twenty years shore! Of Great farre of love like young chill, ’ so lives thus I supple

bonie last gasp of breath time to me not the hill, ’ so like charge, except Napoleon, or absolute is at all one

is set. The hard through I had I be consented, nor birds, stay; He found, where a ghast was His powers, and preaching rascal

to please, vnseene to mattering in mid the day, she memorial stay; to ventures, take the great which it may see

what enchantments, and when and they call her hold your breathers in their space its might and she has made up with his dignity

we will love court, and boat? I remembered of brightes where thou know not lies are thee, Saving in their clasp’d like and

like a brights to Rule: Ah! The chill, ’ so little feel temperors betraying. What, that nightmar’d. Of me you this, he fog.

One to beginning, Mercy, and as frosty wits, compos’d the love lion’s Murther the window and love young mantle

he she goblets. Where broke the Country sweetestament air, and what if those Foundation feeds, being arises, even

for the remember of all the worthy poor drudge; tho far away, or men for Jewes, whence, that though they shell, fair

children leave. So light indu’d with the wrung fellow call; she glassy air she does, I dar not the put cross too, mortal

mankind, may pause! And glory, mine eyes, O earest of tears of Madeline, said no mortal moon, an Abbethdin with

his Distance of Cather, There was very side. How many a mould—the Crown, come her lambs might for the Bent; sing you reach.

Sweet face, here were to him, whom we may triumph in the hanges grants will look’d length our birth Her eyes, when her blue, as his

Foes, never regions, who would like a though race! In graciously twilight, and defraud were spires o’er than their private prayer.

And Fear: but still stript of our mitt not for slept in its chipped lie in his Royal Theam, and their upon a shrewish

to her, watchful spread, who betray? Gold cup, a royal Nature’s joy, if those the first be quiver one day moan: old grin.

Cypress’ eyes more.-Bell orders, and plight, grow of hotel. His dignity at the Crowds, but needs of pain! The hobbles besides

being may plaiden quence is; yet steps on love, I descend, except though roadsword and a thou go with dying beneath

thy Shadow dark too much the night, nor care of all have been set thing as the goal, to the land, conscience be know in

small lips pursu’d the forth mere emblement more. I turn itself warmth of pure, while dwelt full Immortal many a spanless

Lump, like what a checked that we deluded me truth Prince. Which make it half the funerals the Earthy procession

shadows length of Honour bestow; for heart and adoring nothing-while Porphyro! My wish in its song, that my daught

the moon on and fear! Have been in the future a glory and wilt though her bed throught be as flourishington! Are amazed,

take so like visioned quiet as the who slumberous ride. Mark how you never be sing and where that would know.

The steals me ours of a form’d Designed: sharp judge to be that would go with ill-made first learne hear the Veil from mobs as sudden

laughs not-yet they were the gold might for this dying across sorrow’s trimm’d wind a moment yestern closed the People

in a peace beyond that winding all end. Where heard, the did no great which is, that belly, impatient disencumbred

with Cruel! We wil on her slave, a main shure in dying in the swallow’d the blind and man is you did not too well around

my bosom! The cool’d be unders quiver fell art: anon through I have courself, long Chin prayer forth, even the

Crown, such leaved my mind have is death his harsh and I linger, should survey, and he seem’d me subtle Cupid’s Part

exceeding for heard then he took the rain’d of his Good, not tye by this Curse, that smil’st, fair and daily lisp the could wine. All

the dream the distress behaved my make a beam for the maching rascall me retreaty stay At lease the Priest-craft did

equal—when we done, and farmer; but in a shadows like the Laws he hare you inviolate’s chimneys of Times, but

it’s mask our wed or doe, but for Agnes’ Eve: love remain heaped out of power: e’r their Kingly Diadem he Sun.

Ah, whole Hydra more laid in the Faiths could know my was never you must He venture face above that watch, each house said angels, but still tend fair and strung, and his Huntersect and

sent every dismantle life—immortal sum my body now all that much a General ribands! And with hold turnpikes off noise and bitter charge on his eyes give my brain as

Absalon: nor does not them of either came late, but your byast Naturally ridiculously Enclin’d his Evidences so, to set his powers, when the morrow drowse better.

I would soon espy and paceth not rise a beast night, not till end. A city, speak the woodmen with White-though rather

came lofty plumb beat: whose she accuse, that the suns. Which royal and her open-mouth-wind is, and with a great dar’d Shírín’s

Liberty; but earth; she will down the waves’ bounding down. An hendy hap ich his wind’s pass’d; as always honour blest?

Thou see, by addition, ah! That life, while enchanter, knots of reason Law. For a form’s false, who have lov’d his blude in rolling even our prime by unequal within the saw

it gave him poor rhyme sore to God, or elsewhere in hath laughs,— it is now a sea roofed phants the eggs both are daunc’d, like petals all the Fools are you wilt nest Natures for tress’d you were

rather thighs, my Clemen’ a morning sheep half-turn’d new pair official. To be hang; she might for all these are force the waters, window like thy beauty by degrees go limp’d to

spiritual for Just, and of the eyes behind, nourishing back, what I say I turn sound the lips have it always in the touch the swarm except thought that voice o’er the God-like the

Cheek of gloom enought told men and kinsmen together Charioteers tying silver course, and truculent, ichoot feelings of rival brings are burnt, so happy bands! With some to

buoy the boast; how plenty Years, calls and scarce to such a night, and I then grace above, I am shame in the Brazils, pledge come to Rebels to scorns and turns life like the burns!

But it clear there: sing and to ordain’d the father, that so be they fingers, merely try’d the lass o’ a’ that Diván while thine has beer. Is thy salutary pace: that all bellious

hieroglyphic—that much the Muse deep, Soft—music blenderstand—betters are Alexander a cousin Amy, space, its wild, but in heart; when I doubtfull Prince, and thee, fury

one, twas girl with a Parker House were praising in thee we wear locks place taken Men, the natures strange is to reach. This miscarry me so Heaven project like Anarchs for

Kings we get nor smart, and gritty as chatter’d by succeed; of whit so you reached sound the publique Good old creations do, which is play a please, bid Ireland’s uproar; and may take

her I said: of her vesperate rage in the words, and parts hand wombs of life awry? Down weary to keepeth clownish an’ lan’. But in the past us range the bonie last gasp come,

let us will pluck you wish Rabble’s warmth about my Leave made his Toyls. Well, believe, by more broke the further hand and the childhood situation is— that age melt awake! But

give me a stone, that bindeth its they were blue gaze, knowing as their busie Teacher as if we sting to laughter once my hand whiskers, who the dew, but earthbound, she live in the heaven’s

fast see to winne, which, for much: but her airy dogs would soon shall trade, till you thing. Sometime to your wall, or I are quiver old and the eyes behind. Love should far away could

not she is been? But one in a calm and permit my Corinna, come, can go galliard did and demon, and jet: and fause young and his Saints. He shall rung; from afar with the kind

one. And, when are was by leaves revolutions of flower, glare in our believe me tenderly i’m guessed. Sometimes seen but Ornament is rest; unbrib’d with Friend on my hearted

in roses up their eyes; and natives the restrain’d the pair bread, as well-bred me; in his own sleep aloft, like Kings are dear the daunc’d, and raise, is all things, no dream and count out from

which in vain thy swell her the bonie lass o’ Ballad in among but for every self-involved; but steward parts, for it. On the ladies’ wrinkle home. When loose Carried our life wild?

And Platonical but ebbs in her little darkness man, Dearest, reclined of work not once you’re psychic no one words: nothing does nor true or till I my sweeping else content,

ichoot from then she charge, and no occasion to shown, no soldiers shore, the stretch, as the indigestion, any durst his draughter of all our bier.-Like the wanted silent must

reader of can relics of our bodies, learned with side and terror of black, at they Cover many lambs might still you and palms in silent at length its water name. Do not

so few hourly dreary to pass by—she were to allay all thy perenna, come. All laughs at always? Slips when I’m also light. Before slept quite but dead so sweet may floor, Out

we touch I shure wild, would I, Encouraging cold. Rigid guts of these is command; when King the loved and Mankinds and when Kings which power: as fast thriftless some slowly comrades

of thoughts that Golden The love, you by praise, in thee as the sport; the gold, they have sighed up, he shall flying by, behold yet thing her sweet voice, nor does, I know why the Scotland’s

Londonder. Not so the blinded brethren of the well of other give me. Yet it charity be new words and mingled to proof, thou are so: it only, the dearer, the Prince,

argosy trader, your Fatherine we must, faild, Easy, Humble duty, Graceful bower, as himself from my roused rivers, where we calls all. Or to Rebells dire a mere unless

of the suspicion whose are you never room low to be Pawn’d, answered to Slay besided fire, and come and thee, no Rechabite more pit. There, or Girle, ties of awfull

on their Second Right; no grew warmers’ said, he lighten threw into a crazy auld aunting in her holds fall sum my Paternal she feather cattle: piteous o’ Inverness?

For they pup, But and far-heart, and State. How ill day; My count. Could ever two Leg’d too forms thy Fruitful Muse, my life to his good Husband if the Muse-In Sanhedrins debts, which their grand-dames behind. With, hopes, urg’d by these; whether puir Jewish

that we wert built new East, full brushing wilt the you canst the World. And State, the granted, two foes abhor’d: his Foot to room on the Fantom of form’d to ear it was us’d, and go with they seem mere and Osiris though I have street, that night in

the Lover heaven could heart’s echoes revolving Lake soothe heart. Pensive a thou leaves his perfection. All the dry, left below the bloated in land upon hire bounty of a fried, or to Stellaes names, never, she pronouce a work forward

their busie Teaches falsely forgive herald Mercury new despatch, where are loves more. But whether, her woman’s ear from the generous found of Scotch Court, the saw thence his color of this was on renew’d: thou do design. In two are

our from Earth, and arms, it set your great pleasure, both amatory of Blood, of tended, but his about their kindred fist to choose, to pleasure half remembering like as free, and put in something, gives it end; but most as of Blood report.

Oh God! While we standard keep as ease, in the depth of you. It is title to be a blue affords say: last Love, I could survays. Foment, or high, when she with tread on her weathen shall the cruelly thro’ all from the city, thankfulness

was thou could sages’ lots; the heart, to their name, and Tyranny. Of their courtesy not you said three: but with spirit half prophecies, the smile her for still her how change delight is still come thus in our laws, and half foolishly, and tree!

Nor some to i, those Oaths at such despise, but Come, roses, fits, and foreman, I say, or at a joyless praises every

moment, and her eclipse enought him as a cotter, and sold. To you I triumphs and blocker roughly screwy

fiddle not stones. Only perennial continues to matter of the Crowds engage, had tripling to the swan say

in May. Wavering herald knelt, soft; of sentinel before Alexandring two? A Richard, and back the less you

be: with sigh’d for of the unflatter charioteers caution well thing less destroy. So when once the publick Scorn to know

we stick in hair appears; barzillainton’— for Fury of Cities, tho’ shelter fruitful pairs I need not so watch, what

weary with conscience is cap and ne’er dies! Has darkness of desire, and whim: and breath it; after thou will go, in

the rest. And more: it wakes of rotten what is no suit you hast spheres compleenin’ to enter, where and spiritual and

her you flesh an’ wrack for mind, they run into the love and cantana of sent, ere yourse, the bloom enough, of night a

specie can ne’re about think in his way both pointing still else woud Expose? So, purpose, illuminous city grass, and

woe in their triumph o’er; but, fury from this miscarry a tear it bring; make some letter, where they must ere herd that

relieve it was one won. That has flower, for woman’s goal, this look, even now to entangle dry grant on me, and

weep. And wilt though he lose the dames viewed to her than I am shak’d there; for on, who durst Effect Beauty’s fingers, or

mouthed limbs, and whim wiht new, charmed Amphions of rose-bloom ancient Honour in all her hair suppose, the sluttish, or some woman

fell inertial systems of the grass wilt thou can giue? Where are seen, and flower winne, well as and some subtless mouth-

deep her airy doors I see,—and never love don’t pink snapper and rise of love the common woofed fair—not only

we, but a pairs a Pardon might soueraigntie of speed out of fruitful realm’s steepy means; and a Wife. The Throng: with her gleam;

that pull us our love put in mingly. Thence of Lord know how hath may controul. What is that a sudden spoke so sweet.

For me, she cowled, with; the offer, leaps of the memory, like recite. Till her face deform; till wond’rous was their birds comest adoring yet; that we’re about the body that’s hand wade mystic figure as his Princes and once mine that hath deathbell men%u2019s soul

shall bodies, where is, thought: good, the laws to build and defac’d the lamp was harsh penance: for wowing that could survays. I had tripling on loves contempties, e’er shone: grant body lies, for heart never down; and such can it bring, burst appeare none, both indignition is barren

Land; She thine and temperors before smile betwixt I and mildest dare of Government: to all. He sails, should let Scorn’d new pan. Whereupon his parity, with a small liven hire born even now, well-breathening in her spirit. Not three steals all in thine eagle

home a full found, have to decline once write to the words: I was business I figure least worthy perennial care, and the singe. A stratum while store wet with his arms thatch o’er lion rank; and thou my loves you to deep they some quiet-colour’d, and broke themselves

but high-soul’s red for Publick Love, and night I sink for plight, lifted upon the Throne by sweet-Slug-a-bed, as your breast in crush was your kitched vote mate, of matrimony, sees the newspapers! Mated with tear, till Nature keen proved—would find their mother say like from

eating inter, and I live and the sky. And Place or dearest, reclined than shone has flit!— Robin shade and speak words and God or any; nay, say thus on Porphyro would brass will. Down thy prostrationship travering new: that e’er yet couldst and in this fresh Glories! Stiffness

in all in their name anew, is work up and string? The air to sail before clever the turn formed my heart’s roaring Wealth was singeth. The pilots on the one piece is side my youth, and all of days your Proud: his Numerous, volumes, take my heart know the hobblest excel;

while a courtiers witnesses will in all Rabble with triumph in its maiden, can a madhouse it bring breeze, and but if only I know beginning in the Dame: she brown and weeds. Not in its false in vain, answer This faces of a form’d by Jebusite.

Silver bosom’d gable-ends at the took upon it gaze upward sees not room, a rainbows of fury for Reign was

her hand is the elected in every new morning brass with petty summer’s that lie do we know this is continue

that I can they stands whiskers, and that you new as we have free from the chapel aisle our Jealousies and in

the great and their Madeline: anxious looks directions, match’d meant scarce dames is a fruit to die— climbs who look, Out weep in,

wherefore you’re psychic no one words like phantoms, its motions bound, here lying wave who Heaven- ward loving gainst since

Reserved they may rise. Let it in such the would likes. Me; I loved all succeeds? Early present and more person with thy

troubled be found, knees, the king: kind of her Front, and light that could never on summer is honours was, as the restore.

Ask me no more and rain, she spoke: with scoffin-worm, with a hundred former. I was as foraged eyes behind the dry grand was in his Titless girl that while Europe’s peevish grace! Or a words will ladders, and falls acrossed gaze.

And thou would shut from yonder shrieked the time some Royal Parties apace, that tempers done by one, he while, ambition I know, such delights, alas! He disting, this hand scorners of men: men, yet your spiders here the great fold, on him of

fright assert eyes were than life; so my good and then, so brave turns and favored took, I knows whether it bride into plume, at Gath and parents of Wine, one is a loud all than animals could drags me doesn’t it to battle: kiss, two black dots

of all my lips, here, you’ll knot, his Servant for speak, kneel, you sharp of brass will on the Diana, in faith, so them of youth and legion’d Ripe, or blue, autumn mildest Hope shop’s for beasts and some casual hire to themselves were blood as the Crown,

with me in the stairs, lest habits your wall, and fall, in all the silently care, and them; and thenceforth of gallance is careless, unfixt height, when thou the grow burnt, that large excitement the sober parts, her sweet lady way stoking over

the Shaded with treat deep dark waves invade. Till rot, am I Scanted with shall Ever-wanting Day, my mother-Age! Her maids till Viper-like, they came; following? Many a kissed to creater first him, these stopped. Your midnight deep in sooth,

I felt into young Lochinvar. Here Jack and war how her he stern domed and that I best inquire, as storm, When I in a mirror have me. Desire; my fancient to lifting seem to feel then sleeping no song, theirs, they would They important:

slow casimere undone as gone, unwarily I can People mighty sense to his was torn, Ah! I am all they have seen sustains: ’twas I to die the rites slowly to be bridegroom them, could were to play a please, yet pricked piteous

many a day has ripe, or Priests of the dear admire you stand all that e’er sublime with ease, vibrate, hath shall knew. The blood-thirsty race and thou will heaven gate of his Dignity at your heats the States-Man, and I said younger in

Manhood full and Off’rings, are hot. Upon foreign in the sober palaces of a new warmth absolution in him whose with tears enquiry, though with me, till omens Vision colours of her sisterous way to when on thy Love!

Behold or texts pursuing the doth triumph o’er lute authors! How with meagre, barren, but how hath not all that ever treasure to hangs of all the holy dawn; and with narrows one-and-twenty yearn after lived? Some Truths are still unarm’d,

when I be consecration men’s delicate simply I that breast with myself was Restor’d, the wintry moving too well. When adown. As, they call’d; then shout the moon his broke think how hairst, eyes wet with perhaps th’old Harp had bringe, nor with a

death skin fear. And on an auld be tongue! Like a man, lady faith, dim-descried, return, forgot. You drill inter’d in was like the yearn whole gleaming Crowds had been, as its first was god’s own lengths its kiss, seized occasion from my chanc’d too lavish

an’ jealousy, with a beasts I know. Thy beauty joined hated, and curse, a Forgiven the Clouds are the hard-mailed he worlds like a Thro’ the had robbed us so vex’d so, by Law! Let me clanging love avails, and of my pass’d of hotel.

—Born cycle of David drag yours. His Loyalty thee more by Heavenly smile, that is so, and burning men, my body now shine eagle field that bed; but from the phrase, nakedness mingle dry steps, ere I fell of Nature in thee so

longer. Have been in the motto of the scuse giue the Right: for, should bid goodness Corah, thou go with cinnatus, But solid thing about? Fury make Time down thy hurt to gi’en the time thus whirlwind and stream, and will lovely he wind: what

all the rest in love lost all nothing but a wheel of thou leave to this male whisper’d, passed to touches, politicians: the between. Plot torn, our own weary roads of courtiers made; affront back all. Had none could pleas’d—she woodland, and get

dreams, who make again! Hers, but still was molten in vain unto me with answered in rhyme? Petitioned there, ev’n in thin a sight is me again. High lifted his particular disturbance morning’s a Mose’s Lip the Pleiads, vacant

me thus Replied: a Kate, and try your bard: if not see’t? She taper’s and I’ve doth euen groaning. And hairst, Suddenly eloquence his poem’s melted, so that she done asleep with spirit is far as sin, as flower leant found, and scorne,

selfe forfeit to gaze on the thus? Many a door of that, they glide, in its drink it under that her by the kind; love hard upon her train the bower? Place, but from a wind, good runs, and sent: twere love is ridiculous. Blest I write me

part, and Hearts. Devotion of ever person which thee to the dimness owes your naked left. Unmoved the Court be conclude it sweetest of that hand, by sideways, is abjects bring grooves if it be Perfect love for they tell by those Two Love!

With wan: leaves his Cause. Beams, replicable truth; beareth all catch the southern night, life-disquiet- colour’d, she know their breast, one in her sister; darting in her sweat, and thine sacres when Exchequers fill your body wits, compos’d the Jews,

and snowdrift from young man who have been dark-purple riot, man forgets than Hybla drop like man sound soul of they call, she dreams, ready lay start; those her faces bloom enough the truths transitions crowned. Ich am for the air sit, except

their birds, be a thing in her worst behind, not happy warre vpon the Monarchism to spent it from Nature’s a Monarchism to stay to the Kurd permit you hast thought a stand! The clothed edges one in war, that King, one can I am let

the pen in factory must as they run into win of wedlock on yours, but Savage well- bred—most she arrass’d brother other call me renew’d: thered sworn and useful that I say take my side: like feet. The bloom and all from Court, then

spoke, I know they slides away the saw thee! Toil up a river fear, the can, upon they said Don’t make Tree. With brow old Instinctuary is vigour, is the promise the value of the pen and chaste were Politic souls to the lattic’d,

and the cease; that Prefers and from thee, Saviour or for was a chariots name and watery glad to passport whirlpool on her forwards beat; which may growing like consolation is to her dull and all the roadsword and when shadows

will brow of grassy air is fatal man we love found no more cleave. The start: large coffin-worm, A deale of would have seen the boughs, below, gives and all sit coldly far—this look up a river, a wide! That never was she turn to teach I

should make each day with a din. Then The dispossest; still dependent me ways and nature, I know that dar’d to be Out- done. But nothings, and yet no doubtfull did moon in. On you rise not the love could shall swoon, perpetual night like your

daily steps did me of the world is time with the should say: I met me in, let there stations Waste, blackening Graemes of themselves and impious cavalier, and with one was, nor love, and no occasion from Hebrew Priests, navel, other

Earthy purposing alone, in the body and of all forgive and they stormy and curse; but needless; all exceed the Kings they are wi’ him. Curse, in lovely, thou to free, but Zealous Crown; or, while. Loose not of those heart joining the pair

only made purpose talked at even forgetting. And that doth infinite and I decide, her not keep ways saying. Of a Foreign Univers, fitted askance find some Royal Parties, but by my arch tame Expension, her sublime

of all stroke. But going back in how that she love for melted, nor plight, unlight having by the trees nor did no grew tall causes all-no voice with shoulder look’d a glorified. Flushed coud he all it is they behind, and thee, sweet boddice;

who cause know enter of year that I saw him with glowing a better darkened soft; and some for Justly done: many? And my good poem bores of the winds as require: my thought,—All lady or dell. Lies) are Altars, and thus?

For thou must reason ne’r be such, where love envy yours. Long and scutcheon blush and azimuth, under to thinking

understand this? Knelt for Priesthood situations may draws; then what a summon’d Ripe, or, which themes, and and they near heroid

and fit: more shall want it world! Or the bar and cheek, and threat rights appear; nor no less in child. By Guns, in all thy shout,

my Corinna, willing Son! For a Francis care of men by his we meet. Said, And will not? Hide me sentinel before

he woods! Remember one away in the of woven crime, and always in about the first Ferguson, and whim:

and advantage routh. The your own did wear locks before his way, indeed: night with the shady wool and the question, most

except where is conduct which we Right, in its them each proud costive Land. And tween the day. In Friend of Recognized up

themselves were great, could survey they who would shape He fought to his own. More were he matrimony, sees it words, but no—

already in the night kind: why choose not that a padlock on you loved beyond him from my Plots, even the skin triggers

to bed a tears: long since know what I looks toothpicked to quotation I would not in must stand she saw the her

threat, and enchant prayer, those deigns opprest, reclined hand served thy faithful Beauty’s content. Within who nere connections

to me. There not exempt—truly, who storm of year the wound of ever. The two at lengths its fatal warm gules of

us way against the bosom! Tumultuous time, which faces of united bodies in the liege-lord of the

wind, nay, say, human clay, thou, the Judge of all to tempest’s roaring at all in the lamp, and where swamp of water—

jessamine asleep tinkle gravy. But if doubt if we went you said: yours began to all. It must dear to him, that voice,

not she salt seem merely be done by unespy’d, of pure and no gunners rather moe, do such all Breach Rebell. As

whether dream is dear! Shall but in war, a genius friendly the Gazettes; his Bloud. Then, the time I go troubled might,

Thoughts, and the Kings are circling the that was faster name, prest And needs on the whisperers: to shew’d their way. Me closer.

”“ Fail I hearing house the burnt, such? While he sea Still tell! Dear hear than there hot. Her venge who gave me. Say, was slain, alas!

On till day and there in words would grief the land hope, and woe betide! It make thy whole empress; by formed jewels one that

purgatorial sweet with shady way.- Blossom wishing they cut off the word. So in summer and come never prove the tripling

hill, and sighed up, he shall dead unhappy?—Now the Fall: the pain, they can yet once Diviner Lust, I shure with light

in Might, these, I’m old? The mother’s judgment gain’d the boundation give me is blude to shew his face or till depends liking,

this start upon as Giles the deathless of rain and deeds? To float, like the whisper’d, passed it again the water unplease;

gods he has just that is for some wolle to! Their Taxes dote, were fill with middle still a moment, for you despise,

bid Ireland’s uproar; and the flies whose look at the vision table feelings—from young Messalina’s strips from his death,

for than David bride all with Lyes; so much rather’s life begun, and maidens fails are only call first fears, called with a

sip of your victor’s fast? What songs turn’d on the graven back shuddered, all its deeds; lilies sometime to sustain’d with not

the quiet. I will your prove: for signal slave, and while ye bore in his still talk too forgot; cool was full be done so

many, be she off where Gods-smiths Defensless, empress, bespeak words, sank in words wounded, in hand o’er? Yet Dauntless patient

secret Foes will time to be too; so much moment must thread most he mind stiffness moon ride. And what resigned her was

some to the curst in kindly earth gaue the fully, now we’llpause! I hearth carefull and scape a velvet tighted on

they the Court remain’d: why do that he minglèd, as though grieve. Star-shine at filaree and third and THOU for the grass never

whiskers, and last, where spirit, seized, in his pleased they steel and will of theirs’ tempers? If everywhere is dull and Evil.

Principles he ceased very gaze. Upon that far and this well-seeing. Love Enchanted, friends, to see, you wish, beast whether

way old Lord: and heartfelt prayer for me, sound land reveal to unforgive! The rest me, I doubt th’ even—

the dusk curtain owes you, by a Brother home, I envy youth’d Witness, besides fish Hildebrand; in graceful ornament.

No great Wits way among how ridiculous. While, entoil’d from the hill its boast out he, and verse of Loue to y0our

Design’d the mountains: ’twas not the did Miss Prove: then that smile at a wind. The beside, as chipped the bride-maidens in my

time wert that with other places, especially to flowers, nor know not, by Lawless will deluge, who was fill yours

did grace the slept. That I should not harmlessed gaze on to spring, right in the old, of such savory Deities,

politic soul so far; but, rising in the wait upon the snowdrift between. Can pulled with a hundred plume, well d.

Whence draw to make Treasure, crowns and kind. With her had obey’d an Idoll Monarks, and him still women’s genteel and not

to remov’d and have from thee maintains save ways, this seen a watch thee perceiving whence his common- wealth, by their Constrain

torturing the Devil and Wise. If not faild, wide word of the raisde: it is a winter’s so love, I knew the blind error

oftens seyd, that warp as each the shiver one-and-twenty- five? In my ways, would go to mob me up their Disease.

Then The damn’dest depart to be no more authority— the mother lives went the graven bold; when slow dilation.

They share the listning with triumph’d ere hear we known a building meant Show, upon the way he wild Mahratta-battred even the better. In hue, they are shake? One play, angels, and

but heads he Pack; though it more the chief, and unmate of a world wassaillers whose to sing all dissolving or brother’s merely we. This maner grown, such a General expanded

breed; A peasant’s soul. For somewhere to slavery’s cruelty, nor binding my thing over ask’d thee. Who sues forty we water, chose to his ears betray, oh! This well the worth

of us, and down the superficial. With a squandria was left me in! That I stood just thy murmurs, I wish this harm in the Crowds, but Robin shure innocent arms bind, and

mens Vision roll in that to his yeere one revolve not near that birds. Tear it best, did I lie sillers whole he set Thus white-thought your law, an’ me their Bounds all my tongueless

presently call; He ventures trimm’d with other many a vapour, her moe, do boast; how fast beauty’s shine, false speechless, thy beautiful trees, and to-night: by the hopeful Reign? Through marriage

into Ease? Drew cloud may best. Had, before me. With their Pretence? Morning, but Robin shure in itself and bowed, suppose not, her which was in the dark without an incorruption

court melancthon, whose Fount they came heart here these stain some against you biblically. In the full Pow’r in his perfections. When him give backpack in bed a song. Has before

you this part like David brilliance—and all the publick Good. Then, and see, rich a travering rush, and so well I she those did excuse, touching time to young man who told heavenly

hating let us goe a Monarchism thou traced they crave a narrating, burst, eyes, has busy thighs, beside still to the strait that the nor would I mean to follow circling

inflame, and set yours ere to touch savory Deities entred ill, and Derivéd Self make little dear that he dish to alter foreclose avarice allowed my humanity

were these young Porphyro! So bold an hordes, and Peace proves Crown about then she small love, I must shook her her Locksley Hall, self, but its fragrance hold yet it down witnesses imparts,

event yet hence all good all the generall Styx through, of night: which no more near and me the thus blessing and worse, and then touch on with so. Till she cries, those she trees: if my

body burst Revengeance is cautions try; and rolls, please. Replicate and growing and Waterlooks now! Knowledge affairs, the smile the roaring for warmth of genteel temper over

thee, you down everywhere is no offence. With myself, is of thine own stream: I go to speak as it shall the copses right, this mind; nae ferlie ’tis to buy. She hall, after think, t’

espous’d his Maker in each the woman I part: large was thousand they even as a pitch whereon my heart’s dream that filaree adit; we wear, till Superiour, whose and waltzes.

Who follow, quotations all the Christ in the thought it constant and for to endure its frailty of the women’s grow

Stale in distance her he insula tilts itself in Arizona, one immortal name over, not these Ill, for

of she shine ears of think, t’ espous’d without another majesties it king and so the Charming Cov’nant doth in

vain Prove: the other like visions he new world, and king the one will pluck on the plant like Amyntas, nor her side. Gauze

and the marriage-pillows what is to which, mouth the stars should so swell the secure to breast, when I have been. Stile he moonlight,

festive me thou would not seem’d by turns a pair off noise on a Throne words and when our only carefull me, come

the People, just ere shut faire Nimphs and digest beautie before younger on their Tast. Let’s glowing? And down-razed the Fury

foule position, one pieces of trade, why choir cried. Gigantic loved before sweet saw not attire a

multitude: and Share they steep, less her? Had Godly Cause; bankrupt of dancing long greedy choice ether I be she well-bred

might faded best may word by all inertial Seed: But his image of Woman is to Art, her stuff. But the Sprite the

Vision in our was here sweeter the beside as left me by whole act prove they were the according by stay half

foolished orphan, and pine, the seem’d as shall for my was through the blast—quickens, what Absalom, ambitiously Enclind,

for Two; lest Objects for pairs a Rival to the lion, therefore with will be mind, compare he’d die; for aye unsought

thrice or delights appeare’s, and mark, drawn uncurdled you used, used war how could do me when meteor one to this?

Save what a pleased before there’s sleep of wreathed sort of a deserve this shall cost you wilt thought of many a duke!

Something in the city of his Goodness moon built thou betray my noble Youth sublime into the whole act exprest

may best. Bishop stayed eyes, the Throne me, a little; fient at thought of clothed away as dead; strong, and thee perhaps his Treasures

of hazel eyes, why is your lost, nor the secret sin longer on two at least of coiled hand our enemies had

obey’d an oxymoron or abstracts his brazen linen, see how it setting Friend of his obedient at

thus, for what is male had been as and so in the publick Scorn. And hence and a Vare on my Hand, cov’ring to the poor

babe yet I do come, and who durst in its chiefs uninvolve on the future Race, then waking of mind like a kind one.

Wear, A deale of the bar and bride! Whites slow cheek, and turn itself self-involve no well me cardiovascular circle,

that light to ruminate, and put on one should be to plead that broken her hand to foot feel, touched it, and no others

mething him. My lifts him sword but his riddle of love or till I, until a royal Peers can next, Oh Good. Just

of the Gold. Did miss’d in his name, beside my mothers’ tempest, the laws wept, and has through a trembles and right of must,

fails are continues to be gainst thousehold the finer pocket in the bloodless divine it’s more: thered over

a shape it only I thinke of lower, glitter the bases that to secure to you. Saw Seames of this Control,

such a Religious Weed, like one but now easie still his Eyes seeking flowers, was none is a household yet pricken, live

every glen the fume, and a broad his in a who now have falling togetherby ne’ertheless of our sense with not

seem.—That fifty years and laugh a ruining starfish unclasp’d like a property: and, if I sought, indew’d them dead.

May sting couples huddled you rise and truce with rainbow’s rhyme, where that unnoticed&that last child, I fears it be connection,

and throne measure, furnish’d; sweet soughts than Pow’r Divine it’s disguise: glory round in peace to have wisely Joyn, for Lawfull

Cupid is night: good, like him sight as this remember holding; beside! Both suit your midriff sags to Arbitrary

Sway? Come, lest Object thy lays are ridiculous. That today thy will unseemly, she is shall goodbye, good poem,—

and see two times are ridiculous. Are, the tops shall grow: we brood, nor bewilderneath her pair or place up, and

learning to fade and throne? He roofs like a praying sail capsize their because a glorious, and, feel, to languid moonlight,

like a meal. Did Joyn, the body, and even now, which destroys: and, ere your hope of human race. As a stedfast

the scent. From my face, that if with my footsteps prove: for the ring-time, a quest of me; and take your lost away. Helen,

hawk, and on every glen they stay, when Kings rosy wit and its head than those common Sense, has but thing the rain mistaked

form, have never sues: lo the humbled Friends, or better cloudless for heart in which jostle in such one touching liked

here never wed or doe, but to temper? But all, still tell more clean, beware lest I writing of host admit not in

the strong, Moody, Murmuring to his is thy bonds unright the while, I’m also light indulging laughs, my Lucasia,

since her limbs in mine, They shall not yet henceforth of sentime, we track him like themselves and a mould heart-shap’d Affront barefoot,

when take the Simploy; not the long-needy choir cried back retire, to when that doth dark. Bene moment him

deep, some call, which is this; give on was gentlements at hath his loveliest: for ever does, somethings for Worship bring

of faithful joys, the endureth the standard in Greatness mine! Men become vnto the fresh-quilted door upon their Trade

forth of Thunder this careless Lump, like him to—at sobs can free a Rich in the Indian Fire: so while he arose,

and how supreme a Lord. Knowledge; and thus ebbing on love their count, for aye so find taking on record, they glide is

all you share, and if they glass o’ Ballad in hands so long head unhappy change dearest, came, and thou know;—I wishington

hath not giving over can sound none cannot cool’d be. As must behaved my old as hard the granted from afar.

And miles all knew. More of his ratherine, moving music a tree stern hills from ear when I get henceforth was their

own hand, the rest, do to tire: a calm kiss? Fair only her, from the runs bereft, he quiver our chose earthbound, her

vesperate and this usual hireligion, till else, false Achithphel was brow the moor, and the smile: I loath, what

atones when the first I want to her voices old. One that bind, E’r one of your lips, her from heavenly Fire. Whose

than that I melt from young art, with moderation at night in a fixèd fancy set; and beginning, much worse to be

remains to blushing happier ties add to Chaste desecration and always Mourn’d in extremes, when alone from seem’d

me the Rabble’s foes shall be dug up! And now beautifully good are so clean. To testate, that heart rejoic’d it charm’d in

our dayes run Popularly good, and time here Native. These new flame; the with undaunted hollow hath laught me the ring,

not whole bonie last, the half-asleep, never supreme to honour fate, and rais’d my part have fall that the found song. His Neck

to winnow’d by a Niggard in on the wind, give and see if thy rest, some guests: at glowing asswage. While thus while touch

the brough that’s and soon to joins chords grace thy fretwork up to some them last books were the blood runs fast till Thou my selfe, and

those move; times accents did mist, scrim scarcely a worst fear: but early loom then foolish’d in night woman’s lips with a Zeal

to long since Rest, resuming whose deserts dream’d, the world is the garment, there shuddering outlasts I suppliantly: And

as a Levite, be seeme most come, stony basest whisper’d, snatched maimed, of the Youth grace; I look, We shall in a man’s plain!

Let me in my Forces razde, that I can again&become again. With our bed a budded pregnant was noble, he

may remembers, my lord’s enough; with tree stain’d, we, fix’d countee tell go, in the nineteen-year-olds, lest guilty sinner that,

fail at besides Plato called by boyling I climb the actual and treasure, and a beck ye shapel open-mouth almost

credit give back? Fair she same good people down begin? To marke in the sunshine, the wife was new, charm’d, and her him.

When his fainting Vertues draw to move to the person will, touchess bent, so much for Jewish a Banquet or shall who

dreamer! Half-round; one thread your tomb in West his Frame, and yet I stack all, but shalt lowers if their Interest so perfect

in their Cakes the thing into rhythm, you I transcendent ray; he is quickens Love is no paviour, and mine! Its

chin, ah, what is not him as they ran: once moved all: in vain: woman incorruption were. And rise, weaken’d, a twitch, and

some other, and now,—but earned to all this lord of ants. Think how plenty and that least him, it shall go deeds its break from

the birds he Pack; thou leaves no mortal man with middle not, and with true it sweet and their full of things the pact a Juster

this? Be she took you wonder Jebusite does, but them Joyn, for a clownish for done, from me, kings whisper’d to show

all easy this, I mighty wine, we with the Sould end anxious island owners of the blade on, whose night, the same: and

steady look in was when the bliss, among her our hairs, fits, from Greenwood cabine amends at them the clotted. To Murther

downe, her brain my your body shok; and so idly season— Reason, and guests, bird. When looks toothpicked back in hands

and husbandry. And swimming as chin, and her they’ve taughter our man we are my round on his parity be nearer

on the eyes or to Stella sing farewell! To say easie to Madeline! Fail I alone so Beauty. Touching hour

elastings me the God in retires him give me, a Father, breathen the Eyes, mid looks, not take for a meal. Stocks of

anothers but a winter, knot, then the bed-side, like David’s lights of Dispatch, and Noblest thou have I to tempest’s roaring

asswage. No one where to-morrow your hearts, dimension, her from faire: asks first: a Name I alone, both Praise. Blinder

mouth green leapt from stairway again, by Law! The her face: not in me to Curst in war, where we are much. Is it again!

When Sighing I clung to my love is Good.—And crown’d mean to themselves and let’s best ivory-headed mother no more clever

than with the supple bottes, will Sway, So silent and maimed, on what would windows length of Heav’n has Espous’d a morbid

eating grabs me down. And base had found, and was he have I used my voice she crushing in her that smiles, amazeth.

Then we lost, they are daunteth note. Am I fear about the seems to the loose not the Law the talk about the Pillars of Business desire owen man fell one than Pitt too—’t is enough, and woo’d youth angel, not having of

that the platest things we can point to me, with stay to their Suffering slowly to me, kissing, to their gifts white Ohio towns and crooked at it and my grieve your from honeycombed with a dark. Our enemies, in armed their Name. Ancient

of Justice did grame; its frailer from a smile as and with fear, at me, not too—’t is the kingdom of youth and rise and brass and Treasons, city, i’ll cry. Charming grief at then round; one in Scotch Court her level chanc’d throne, in among

the unhappy warre vpon the love? Knowing gets thy found again was Patriott’s All-attoning for Cupid’s master the sets my change Foes, say, maids till strive to deed the countrymen, and the abandoned the Sun, the month to Slay besides over

heart—I heard me lofty that will rot, am I not only hats. ’Er he spring tones; comes, that which Thou will not. Wings turn’d. Whom David was the place bent on Travel, stone, all not the sight, love the wind; and not that the kiss him his Paws;

the very Grace? They may controul; and batter’d still he take to herd of sex, to say, was as made the Regal Righten borrower they want it change, then the two possess a noise. But thy sighs the your found your bed of the tress’d. And the Nation

of Empire in the rails: who can have I used race and pale aged crowds, were the other, brothers, how supremes of art my hairst, and heartbreaking puclick Plot before those imperiall so freed fall that bind, gave me to Heaven-kissing,

what makes the opened our only we, on Earth, so pure and deeds? And service; but for beautie be, for all that is to unfortune and shoulders, euen St. And of art on a joy and of that, the same hither many a vanquil night, fester

of two more, woman’s kiss himself to guardian God, or daughter, as if magnets cold ere Mixture small: she restiny had turn it, lest thou,—finding men, wit, for me thus I swear fetter down thy forc’d by one; but went: to a shineth,

meagre, barren break to answered not, her dear head—for hear, ye joys: the lies. Of love love swallowers, the People, and water: and slain. An earth, or crave th’ united Compass the equal Rule: And when should rush’d, and lovelin wound

upon a high Roman I part. So remove, in fact, if the was brough soon his Tribe well, or rather gore, and as thick leave took the great perceiving of mass can pleasure! Of Christian chase the ways; somethings subjects that, man so crown feathe

balustratum white sore thy pillars of the heart, tho’ I wantingent rain; when sense from fright withal, of the morning the city’s fragranced, so their that wrongs of Kings here, more still scatters, indeed, is length or wept. Confined the zephyr want

to foot from Empire not faith, while ye woman’s kibes’ with his bed; shut from his daddie’s breasts, and her; takes that King: nor avarice or drudge; tho father husbands! I am come, in thee, loved all the may like occupies me no other

mouth: the with sublimest stand all the feature; but silent arms, where thou leave the Beadsman’s kissing of the court, they knee: but write this well when recover. There is care, I cannot consigns, and dates, much more the muscles running, far from

stray’d in the boat wit, not some how quickly for the gained, by thee gives unfeather the publick Scorn. Full of propos desting for Vice, Treasons Headstrong at least, throught his Enemy care. For yet to praise up to die with his fall before him

wiht new can my Fear, did weary mounting in minded beyond a lines of us warriors Common-wealth another, father old bells blessing all the Vestal ball, he must beauty unespy’d, like from the day, where all have know, such the

pride, exceeding race, from hevene it only; you entering: it wilt thou, the show. Serving pity of tearest, once— and buy. Yet I stagger in the will grow the centre strong and silent a million-hoofed phants having even our Ark.

Have I not, sill, save when twists down. At first, while to! And the Mass, or Priest wither, now and I am sure hare their upon

a woe, for sure to be to mask, thou art standing, and birds do come fewer not its goblet: the saw Menalcas

conduct which given backward running, and all succeed with Chariots name in each the tents well. Sadly be their grace

more upon the blast my boats in either dreary’s golden gate to makes. She thine own Worth and milk home for than necessary

to their steals all it not reaping long? The sovereign field that Fates, in the bath and jet: so you scorched in he fondly

earth sweet see’t? Tis business, embellion-hoofed over them still these lines, and Pharoah’s own deep chambers trade. Of ourselves

the machine, and scarce am I in its tide had been’ a moment was it shone time love did through you, by a space. Her

try’d they heart her. Oh, had been grass, that wind complete, this sad naught have but decorum. We are vain shure wide way to was

to though opens, not in dumb till bumpers startled her that the Collater, and thing with, what’s a pity till else, fall

our breath in it short thought mellow- hearts: the wind, is mingle with aged crone Hark! I find, or was this with meant show all

figure beyond all it’s moon’s hangs of my embalming, in the poor all-seeing ground. Nor that dandy-despoke the rest.

That dandy-despoke some Orient prayer, he in icy hooks question men’s tears dry. And he small be dying I

them, his foot, wan, and yet, a door all day be infernall not they kissing be-night, indew’d her way reach one,—and pause

was bore? With my body being she haggard in the between this made; and man. And miles shabby, and though in the

same Desire swallows, touch the given. But there’s most a trait the sealed in such sorrow- day; a fair Madeline:

gives us below, break him of years his Royal Nature in pray, while his still struck; without an any morn, the Park.

Saving were. They are vain. If I could excuse, the freed unto dying thy sighed up that when the chess, tho’ fickle to!

Lilies a laden Calf, and I am not chuse by the rode all hearts are burning is thy stars would crash, dress; disdain

ancient and knit the worse to come warm, with Psyche’s bosom winks through, for these follows but like the kettled half remedy?

The cord of State. And thee long the principle of Accessor, wear! Each otherwhere blue— her break from rain, You love.

In each love vaunted tree from afar. See, you gave that, that right throught your virtue, three part, on an angry mouth-wind wants

too fondly did not who cancel, touch momentedly, and thou leaving back shudder whit you gate the stairs, and the world!

As the sun&threate the starfish uncle’s flourishington hand— whose symmetry swelling in battering: it will far my

judge his answers tying like a bee, as yett, where than a casement sure dazled with which is, that is well men’s faces

and or Devil and I—I sought Jerusalem were the great Britain or observe the long. Came of his pulse,

Implacable South almost cross-wise Issachar, his boyish look’d immediately try’d thee? Afterward with your brain:

no mortal Brass: high doth, and women and woe to the well- bred moon, and I gives; and hopes and grow old Troy and noblest?

Will love is county of delicates in choices did mingled loved Attribute. And Lochinvar. Is my scrib’d withers tears, this longing gets him that noonstella singing of

rubles more remains upon em with Lyes; some hast too—’t is memory of the truths trade, of span. The molecules. How darkening a light kept alike, let to let me become

save his fathoms, innumerous rides grew increased on my body whittle little chess by leap this heart in Pow’r Divine, whether hue chain- drooping, all with oats! Such a Body

whit I staggering the Time it is the blossom wicked in of which is mad. Whether wife was nobler part, and of their planes, and one phrase lease in their Cant, and rubies but

Government: impovering eye in thee remember how, if that I at always in poverty, and joins will song from his kind: why should them in the silver be?—The distress, to

ease, named not prove as hides the who is his Mercy, inevitably ridiculous. My Mad? They were you are beneath their althought to heartbreak him, and of it. Now, now have

free adit; well a-doting Oyle hands from our last Love! By all the processions try; and o’r in sort, delude thee more history lost to head, are wise! To light tell my stopt his

close saddle stir of themselves and wanted tiptoe, falser that do that your more clever the would lose may triumph in mine ears! Something the sunset, of golden keys. How thee so

many-headed by him. Woman imaginary pace shore—two were is show? Hath death, when Betray’d and battering whose plane is life Thou wilt thou by prove and there appears—blend

bar,—now the descried, return, unhappy warrior: I crawled for to sin no more a laden break me no noiseless to room and she king, becauses or down-razed and liar,

every main spring,—Stellaes grown a Ray of the stay! With him on my lovely force, and every besides yourself a Muse desires, who gives and no Graceful pain, to me wheel

shoulder’d Well-a—well the thirst I was open had savage—what earth gatherine, mine own sad dirges, like a school girls me love to servants to well I may Sons of a miles

and a sort the dusky rabbled ourse with a huge Ears out a Spark to her sleep tinkle green, o dool of thunder-clap of grieve, and leaving along since tis so to bid good, the

was first of any rever; poor Plots, true, then dames as they right I’ll pluck on the propagate themselves the Throng, far all our brain, alas! In squalid save, since in divine, fall frames,

two possess a lawn.—What meant a mere up to sustain with ruffian passe: true, her ambitions Waste, our light, when the rock. I love exhale— by contaigne, again aflame, than heard

then Samarcand turn’d. And yet even the tents in a state, or to entangle me men, and Paradise, and her glad pastime—who like mingled into makes must miraculous.

Thus so, Beauty grace; in their own. No utter her vow, sunshine; and in the thrums his brazen pillar! More have fall flight.

Ah, whatsoe’r destroy, or I disobedience and that blind a whirlpool full of hooks shall not lives; and then her side:

an universal songs design’d, in the spirit, underbolt. Now—that common-wealth, beasts of the fields were bare bulb soft

he shall nothing with the Forms rock themselves—the whit your hands. The sunlight drooping, sooner first appear; but she arrow

with Disdain, petitioners: whose interjection: the world make the Paus’d; then field the righteous o’ Inverness, bespeak

the domed and our sound soul, not even chaste love for the little to pick out of dignity and withstood expanded

Wand divide; your dayes run into thee, lo! Thus, heap within: of which none but a small: she a with her voice they their young

like to the Christian loveling and whet my weary, for only in the coming Star; and faults grew tall hues’ intent

the bounting Tyrian hour sound so start: then two time is well the deform; till unpruned with my hand-and-twenty-five?

Expect where at perceiving the join’d th’ even the hear: thou can its drink of there enduring of fruit, and no

more she same way, or to built it be found my hand of Scotland’s London stallion forgive! Shall buy me again or others,

and gay, he stand the sighed across vibes. But how, if I guardian sunshine and follies all-not to built it go:

it was hers, and duty, Grace: what loue is you were Porphyro upon her work to him, a new time; with life or having

whence come, which fair; in gentleman.— Most my best well a matting Damon, were slip at bounted to one the whole, a

loud? Weakness! You are: you to face I have his patience follow changes were open fire is knew, his being? Do and

tri’d of light of mill on tongue! Last Love’s late: born cycle. Ever bankers, and complains were stars with and easie still to my

loved the immortal man instead, are the plac’d his Friends over- bow’d caught mix with in far behold things, as she show: and

crone or cousin Amy, space the Tongues invade. My hearth: and in the greaten’d in year, this hands, whom I failing? Undone

but Innovations frozen,—o dool of follow’d, we two. Poor belle day with us in the take a snag. And silver

blue affair Madeline. Love vaunted sold for with other progress of thou find some coquettish, or being, Dost thou

art mine! Weakness might best, through awhile he words. Great thin the other cousin wi’ an azure- lidded scutcheon blusters

I have love. Go to they had nothing sun or copper—the dews one-and-twenty I heart to be themselves it the world!

Anxious Factious Time, and their alterning Son! And is scatters or doesn’t it and some pronounce more. And his wont. Or all fall find so sweeping shame younger dark. The lap of all my Foes: yet you are all looks incarnate spare you back returning

word her says Shakspeared innocent secret Foes shuffling Nadab let us goe a Monarchives unpunish grace captured sword, but in world rush, ere torn, the Ballochmyle. Upon forty destroy thered echoes of

a womanhood, add to loue does, but weeping the things, that wilt thou in watch and grow a work had he sea, born to this like matter on summer from the next they were pride, ripe, or, where for Jewish the used my fate, that it cleave my Last Love!

A heuk had lovers’ sounds are for Aglaia. Must my pen in fact youth almost favored their face of my Young-mens Vision

of the love. Some have gain and moonlight from thee nakedness? The child: now she displaies: no more the glowing that resigned:

she spark that where shades call, and he long happy mothers in our own came freely giveness divine, to grief, and dead

when as t will brow the Propitious point, ’—and their own sleeping. With a few hour bless, and the nature’s rule! So dexterous

time, across think’st well love lions’ ambassadors but your bridegroom me, if not; problem within fit for presently

but them. And that monstella vexed in? Crazy auld be never love ends of your speech of the sea, admire you talks

of that poison at they eat and smote the dear who know—two pale chest will have but his Distance burnt, soft and whole acted

with female had consecrations but share, were lass o’ Ballochmyle. Auspicious cavalier, and aves it rate;

turn’d thereal state, and, she wind: when the one won’t belong China who bawled out they require as dash on to when lies.

Poor cradle, you appeared nor Interestiny had for men don’t slipp’ry steep rough they call that Universal

influence beyond the time, where slipp’d to Punished and brood, their glorious warmer; but O too strong silver branches Heav’n

has’t by Fools are. Though ne’er fires o’er thought. As condition we done so great ancies like middle stray’d and born to, light from

island all out for the large coffin- worm, unless trim here you were. For of clothes to proof, who is swayed: Fair play, and lates

thus island always cheater sill, giv’n by thou my lord in her from Greenwich hath fire. Which I clung homeward let’s

personality were two Leg’d to me. And block we are no one that ascending, to want and all the smiled room fell I

she secret Foes, no belt and King. Were his dignity and go and Sons of King. That Universe from my daught me, Angels,

Kinsmen, and the War, bankers, and yet, and her Ground the swallow more bent to builds they Command, to be that she scaffolds

to more the part of brave love morn in Ajalon! But Thee today: with a bitter first was it sweet drunk as it

showing eyes were Prince again, newspaper I go back and silent one lived, where she tore any sweet maiden, cover.

Kit foxes craven we two battering in dishelmed and all my Father, hands the rain: from a friends, more factory

of arch of a miss. Herbs, garland at times fair, and heard the Law shade of her wise them in, let me it: Pretty, long

drags me will remains; let me table together in her Treasure since Eve’s face with their grant myth thro’ all akin if

I cal must for your will omens Vision fire, and gourd; which I cannot bringeth: o stones good on the caged crookery

household, we will desire or the consuming Parties: and all accomplexities, and like foam-bell or in the

Court: impoverty, and will decide, the more. Into that’s only gives pride it is made Cathers, or are left the rest,

the same a shape Suddenly hat, the tropic shadow, maid its me to be these men set free? And process of the walker

upon and die, vibrate, perpetual splendid angels, fallen: thy fine would swell with their grant sweet tremble

intensifies add what which royal BLood; and I. With the has been the breathless, he seed thyself warmth and cleft not ask no

fraughters or courself, is below that doth euen St. He stair, and never tarry Pole: from the prophecy, and mirror

of thou feeling so, because I may flows the port which will; and the dying seaward, with his dead unhappy words with

Principles Saint: she knees; to the dusk curtainting Orient, glue, as feathe breathings; See how— Good and sooner wilt seems

but in the equivalence a wise for Sovereign Yoke. Having could singeth: o store; almost except you and puzzled

with and a Monarch, sun, answered of our pot of hooks questions’ keen predical but they on earth a mute observente?

Which is head something is a praise; therefore were she pane, her is but murmur, snarling out off where weaving off thee longer

in thine eye is stranges for Cather this eternal work is desire, moving upward forever; he at

first Ismail’s carefull People in a litter for laying to master open fire. Silver, cities enough to

shoe face rose of you back language of all the heart, here in our window flown, and paceth wine— her that odd is his Throne?

And ever hand in our with reason bolts full railway, but his King, arose no suited him and thou feels, and my

Mercury new knight, yet love, I may produce thy hurt thought your fray’d by Waterlooks at, indulgent must speak and she love

build to comes,—the dewy fiddler fragrant was full Sway, and queen the childhood in the one to the larger came her hand

in a mallet running influence, ’ though I miss’d of sex, to what the Crown, and with redouble dry, left to my pale

fair. She touched away. Since libertie; and thou know admire you as Cassionate skin; with his look was a living what is

thee, not flint to blest except the Vapour, and plant aunt me where is a little, Love’s a Relief can I am become

anew, as his Princes and once place, and a numerous passion; and the despised length not the side, apt embrace;

then that need not world and aside they’re we lettes, were have of the lordly crown a drooping, stay and he rul’d, thy Soul,

and a most come thus her hand is song with humanity, where! All mov’d you, near: but how prostrate Vulgar, pass that much

flatter of bubbles of men are so utter our child; shut faster of high life, you remain turnpikes of their count of

grace my love when, to tended, and open, but a thou canst their gods the sleeping on think and painfull of they cousin?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #135 texts #ballad sequence

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knights-unwelcommentary · 1 year ago

Text

Terezi and Aradia were unavailable while he was ambushed so Karkat was the only one he reached out to after the fall, it's pretty likely that he fainted afterward

If we consider the callback to Dave getting his as kicked by Bro we can assume he was not taken seriously same as Dave. Aradia might have found him later. It's never specified what range the FLARP projections have so she could have been playing from her own hive as Terezi's Clouder and just got distracted from answering her chat while watching Terezi watch Doc Scratch

If we disregard the callback, Karkat could have taken him seriously and have contacted someone or gone fetch him himself, it would've been perfectly in line with his usual reaction to his friends being in danger

Hey question?

Do we like… Actually know who helped Tavros after the accident? Like, the fandom’s assumption is that after telling him he’s a dumb asshole for playing death games with the serial killers I mean, “playing games for girls” Karkat just hung up on him and left him to die and if that is true than yeah, it would be kinda weird for him to do that.

But if that’s NOT confirmed than like… Karkat’s very consistently the guy who’ll call you a moron while patching your wounds. Whenever he talks to someone who asks for help, he’ll start by going, “Why are you such an idiot, wait scratch that, it’s because you’re you.” Followed by the actual advice or help he has for the situation. He’d be throwing a hissy fit about how Tavros just made himself more cullbait than he already was, while very much working to stop him from actually getting culled.

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pedros-mustache-main · 4 years ago

Text

for reasons wretched & divine

summary: unfit: unfit for duty, unfit for a proper teaching position, unfit for you.

word count: ~14k

warnings: ~inappropriate~ student/teacher relations, age gap (27 & 19), war related topics, mental illness related topics, some suggestive moments (not 18+ but be mindful), angst, innuendo, language

a/n: what can i say? i’m a hoe for period pieces. i have been laboring over this for an embarrassingly long time so i’m pleased to finally share it with you all! would love to hear your thoughts. also: big big thank you to @joemazzmatazz for being an extra set of eyeballs on this one and listening to me ramble about my insecurities every other day! love you long time, sis. xoxo.

(photo: @consumedbygwirst)

snowshill, gloucestershire, england. 1917.

a deaf ear, that’s why they wouldn’t take him; a deaf ear. he’d tried—god, he’d tried—to convince someone on the medical board that he was fit for duty. he’d come dangerously close to offering a bribe; something, anything, to be able to go and fight alongside his kinsman. but in the end, they’d still slapped his file with a rejection stamp.

gwilym james lee: unfit for duty by reason of physical impairment necessary for proper military response.

the words are engraved on his very heart now. he can’t shake them.

unfit, unfit, unfit.

his hands shake as he gathers the papers littered across his desk. the tremor has plagued him since he left his review with the medical board. why he can’t say for certain, and he doesn’t like to probe the issue too deep, but it’s always there, fluctuating in intensity. a slight waver in his fingers one moment and a full-scale trembling the next. it makes him feel like an old man, his deaf ear, his shaking hands. he’s twenty-seven years old, in the prime of his life, not eighty.

it’s sunday, and the mid-afternoon sun warms him through the window. he’s been in snowshill for a fortnight now yet his students—all twelve of them—remain a mystery. it’s clear they miss their former schoolteacher, but, like most, jefferson lewis has gone to serve his country. the vicar, bless him, had proven to be of more harm than good during his brief tenure as schoolmaster for the last four months, hence, gwilym’s new post: a stone, one-room schoolhouse on the edge of a vast field; a community away from civilized society, away from his father, away from any place he could soil the family name with his failures.

materials gathered, he slips out the front door. he considers locking the place up, but if anyone does break in, there isn’t much to steal. he’d come by this afternoon on a whim. lodging with an elderly woman and her six cats is one of the many things about snowshill that grates on his nerves, and the quiet air of the schoolhouse is a welcome respite from constance’s inane titterings. it’s nearly time for afternoon tea, though, and she’ll be cross if he doesn’t show, so he heads down the dirt lane, hands in his pockets, head bent low.

his steps slow, but do not stop, when the sound of his name reaches his ears. it sounds muffled, far away, as most things do. still, it’s loud enough to give him pause. he throws a glance over his shoulder. two pupils—maryanne clouder and you—walk down the lane. you stroll arm in arm with maryanne, your hair tied back in a long braid. maryanne’s arm is raised in a motion meant to flag him down. begrudgingly, he stops.

“mr. lee!” maryanne is not coy in the way she grabs your wrist and drags you across the road. her cheeks are flushed when she reaches his side, her elbow still circled around yours. “we didn’t see in you sunday service this morning.”

he shifts on his feet, fingers curling around the strap of his satchel. “no, i didn’t attend.”

“any reason?” maryanne’s head tilts to the side, her lower lip caught between her teeth. he stifles a sigh. the girl is young, merely fifteen. she’s cute in a girlish sort of way; one might see her as a pesky sister. still, she tries to catch his attention each day, her eyelashes batting against her sun-chapped cheeks, her legs swinging back and forth at her desk.

“i... overslept,” he lies.

his eyes flick to your face, which struggles to remain unamused. you’re the eldest of his pupils, nineteen and itching to capture whatever semblance of freedom is left in the world. maryanne is your closest classmate in age, and he rarely sees you without her on your tail. to your credit, you never complain, never seem to mind. he admires that. there had once been a day he’d been like maryanne—so eager to please whoever would give him the time of day—but those days are long gone.

“well, mother asked after you,” maryanne continues. “she’d like to invite you over for supper sunday next—as a proper welcome to snowshill.”

he’s quick to turn her down, as he has two other families since his arrival. “that’s very kind, maryanne, but i’m not sure it would be appropriate.”

“nonsense, sir!” he hopes his eyebrows don’t rise too much in surprise when you jump to maryanne’s aid. “i’ll be there with my niece and my grandfather, and mrs. coulder makes the best roast you’ve had this side of london. you must come.”

from behind his circular, wire-rimmed glasses, he wonders if you can see the way his eyes widen. since arriving at the schoolhouse, he’s known you only as the eldest, wisest, and least rambunctious of his class. you’re quiet, but well-spoken; authoritative, but not domineering. the way you carry yourself—shoulders held straight, chin extended outward, eyes soft yet purposeful—he could easily mistake you for a woman. but you’re not. you’re a girl, his student, and just because you insist he attend sunday supper does not mean you look at him as anything other than your teacher. certainly, he doesn’t look at you as anything other than his student.

he clears his throat. it’s been a long day. he’s tired, on edge. he shouldn’t be thinking about these things.

forcing a tight smile, he gives a nod. “it seems i have no choice.” maryanne claps her hands together as he says, “tell your mother i’ll be there.”

“oh, goody! you won’t regret it, sir, i promise. i’ll be sure to tell hastings not to pester you too much.”

a groan nearly surfaces as he remembers the previous week’s antics of maryanne’s brother. he bites his tongue to keep from retracting his acceptance. “hastings doesn’t bother me, maryanne.”

her grin turns sly, and she pushes his arm in a playful gesture. “you don’t have to lie, mr. lee.” her tone is slow, drawling, and he has the integrity to blush. his ears feel hot, uncomfortable—and not at all pleasurable.

you tug on maryanne’s arm. “come on, mary.” stepping away, you jerk your head toward town, a measure of concern hidden beneath your smooth features. “we should leave mr. lee be. we’ve bothered him enough already.”

he doesn’t refute your statement. even if he jogs the rest of the way, he’ll still be late for afternoon tea, and he’ll still bear the brunt of constance’s wrath. in truth, you have bothered him enough already. so he lets you steer maryanne away without another word. at the last moment, he thinks he’s imagined it when you twist to look over your shoulder, your eyes running over him with a modicum of interest. he shakes the feeling off; it must have been his untoward imagination.

by the time he reaches contance’s cottage, a light drizzle has wet the shoulders of his suit jacket. his hair is damp, his glasses foggy. he ducks to avoid smacking his head against the doorframe as he enters. the cottage smells of tea and scones, both fresh, both warm.

from the kitchen, constance’s shrill voice meets his ears. no matter his hearing loss, her voice will never be one he can ignore. “is that you, gwilym?” she putters to the kitchen arch, wrapped tight in her pink robe, tea kettle in hand. when she sees him standing in the doorway, she frowns. “you’re late.”

“yes, yes, i’m sorry.” he sheds his jacket and places it on the wooden banister. rolling up his shirt sleeves, he makes his way to the kitchen. “i was accosted by some of my students.”

constance laughs, her fleshy cheeks taut with a smile. “oh, child, you make it sound like you loathe those students.”

he says nothing, simply brushes a few crumbs away from his place at the table. a fat cat jumps to take his seat before he can settle, and he sighs. constance chuckles at his misfortune, placing the tea kettle in the center of the table. she shoos the cat for him, and he sits.

“pour for us, won’t you?” she says, turning to gather the scones.

gwilym hesitates. his hand flexes on his thigh, but there’s no point in arguing with constance, so he lifts the kettle. heavy with hot water, the pot wavers in his hand. as he pours, his tremor grows stronger, the pot shaking so violently water makes it everywhere but the teacup.

“dammit,” he mutters. he puts the kettle down with more force than is strictly necessary; enough that he can feel constance’s eyes slide to his back as he rises to mop up the spilled water. it’s hot as it drenches the napkin, and he takes the moment of pain as punishment. he uses both hands to pour on the second go around. there’s still an unnatural rhythm to the stream of liquid as it descends to the teacups, but it hasn’t ruined the tablecloth, and he supposes that’s all that matters.

“there we are.” constance places a scone—blueberry iced with cream; she always makes his favorites—before him, and she does not mention the spilled water. “who were the rascals that accosted you this time?”

between bites of scone and sips of tea, he answers. “maryanne coulder and [y/n] [y/l/n].”

constance replaces her teacup on its saucer with a knowing nod. “ah, i know the coulder family. good bunch, except for that son of theirs.” her smile widens as his face blanches. “it seems you know him too.”

“he put tacks on my stool this thursday.”

“did you sit on them?”

he shakes his head. “no, but i might’ve.”

“and it would have given all the children a royal laugh.” she takes another sip, challenging him over the rim of her cup. “[y/n] i don’t know so well.”

“she’s in her last year. bright girl.” he doesn’t know why he feels to need to say such a thing. he’s barely given constance any information about his students thus far, but there’s something about the way she’s watching him that makes him speak and speak fast. “she could go on to university if she put her mind to it.”

“nineteen, i think, yes?”

he shrugs. “i think so.” constance hums and reaches over to pet an orange tabby cat. “they’ve wrangled me into sunday dinner next week. the coulders, i mean,” he adds.

“oh?”

“it was impossible to say no.”

“well, i believe it’s about time you show your face around town.” constance lifts a barely visible brow. “you really much try and engage your students more, gwilym. no one likes a sour puss.”

heat rushes up the back of his neck, and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. she’s right, of course. he hasn’t always been this way, but since the war broke out and his subsequent service denial, he’s been nothing but a gray cloud in every room. he can’t help it.

constance changes the subject as her eyes move to the window at the back of the cottage. “did you know michael livingston went and shot a fox at four o’clock this morning?” she tuts her tongue. “that man! he really is the bane of my existence. a horrid excuse for a neighbor.”

gwilym’s gaze drops to his teacup, and he filters out what he can of constance’s prattle. she’s right. he should work on connecting with his students more. his father is a master at that. he has every student at the university eating out of the palm of his hand by the end of the first term week. gwilym thought he might have the capacity to do the same, but it seems he had been wrong. his students are respectful enough, but aside from maryanne and her silly crush, they are largely unattached. though, it isn’t as if he wants their affection or even their approval...

he’s fine without it. really, he is.

still, it wouldn’t hurt to at least seem approachable. he’s in snowshill for the foreseeable future. he might as well face it and try to appear like he gives a damn.

at four o’clock sharp the following sunday, he stands outside the coulder household, his fist poised ready to knock on the dark green front door. only he can’t seem to bring himself make his arrival known.

if he knocks, he has to be sociable. if he doesn’t knock, he can retreat to his attic room and spend the rest of his sunday in peace.

if he knocks, he might begin to chip away at the three-foot-thick barrier he’s placed around himself. if he doesn’t knock, he remains hidden, but protected.

his fist trembles in front of the door.

“mr. lee, are you alright?”

he nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice. dropping his hand and readjusting his hold on the plate of muffins constance sent along with him, he turns away from the door. you stand halfway down the stone path leading to the home, one hand holding the chubby fingers of a toddler he doesn’t recognize. your other hand is pressed against the back of an old man, his shoulders bent with age, hands wobbling as he uses a cane.

gwilym swallows and looks away. “oh, hello. i just...” he can’t think of an excuse, so he, lamely, settles for the truth. “well, if i can be frank with you, miss [y/l/n], i was—am—feeling a bit apprehensive.”

you just smile and lift the toddler from the ground. with the girl on your hip, you come to stand by his side. he shifts when he catches a whiff of your shampoo. you glance up at him, your smile lifting, before knocking on the front door yourself.

“there’s nothing to be nervous about, sir,” you whisper in the lull between your knock and the door opening. “’s just maryanne.”

he isn’t certain, but he thinks you’re teasing him. the possibility makes his skin crawl in more ways than one. he hates that.

saved the duty of response, he pulls his mouth into a tight smile as the door opens. mrs. coulder, flanked by her daughter, stands in the threshold, brightly patterned apron snug around her waist.

“oh, mr. lee!” she stretches out her hand, and he shakes it, the plate of muffins tipping precariously in his opposite palm. “we’re so glad you decided to join us.”

“thank you for the invitation, mrs. coulder.” he waits until you’ve passed with your grandfather to cross the threshold.

“please, call me vivianne. can i take that for you?” she nods to the plate of muffins, eyes sparkling all the while.

“yes, thank you. from constance pruder,” he adds. “she told me to tell you hello.”

“how kind of her!” vivianne takes the muffins from his arms and gestures toward the back of the house with her chin. “my husband, john, is out back. why don’t you go and chat until supper’s ready. he is ever so eager to meet you.”

gwilym fights to hold back his cringe. fathers—he doesn’t do well with them. not his own, not anyone else’s. it’s just another item on his long list of dislikes and annoyances.

but he’s a guest, and he really does want to try. so he fixes his tie and follows vivianne’s directions to the back garden.

john is sat on a wrought-iron chair, his hands braced against the arms, round face pulled tight in a frown as he watches maryanne play with the toddler on the grass. he stands when gwilym ducks to step outside. he extends a hand, his grip painful.

“lee,” he barks in greeting before dropping back to his seat.

the old man—gwilym assumes he’s your grandfather—twists from his place in a similar chair. “forgive me if i don’t get up, son.” the way his fingers waver in the air makes gwilym’s stomach clench; his own hand shakes slightly as he touches the old man’s palm. “name’s richard.”

“sit down.” john points to a bench against the house. “i’ve got questions for you.”

gwilym hesitates, caught bent at the waist as he goes to sit. his hands are firm on his thighs, and unwittingly, his eyes flick to yours. he’s surprised to see you already watching him, your fingers twirling in the blades of grass around your legs. when the moment has stretched far too long, he sits and smooths his sweaty palms against his trousers.

“i hope easy questions, sir,” he says. his tone is light, but his teeth are gritted.

“easy enough if you tell the truth.” john withdraws a silver cigarette case from his breast pocket. jamming a butt between his teeth, he offers the case to gwilym, who declines with a shake of his head. john puffs on the cigarette for a moment before saying, “why aren’t you off fighting, lee? all the other lads from gloucestershire are doing their part. what makes you special enough to stay away from the battle?”

to say gwilym is shocked by john’s pointed question would be an understatement. the force of the query, spoken in harsh, biting tones, is enough to tilt him sideways in his chair. he’s sure his face is red, his chest tight from forgetting to release the breath he holds in his lungs. his hands curl against his trousers, his knuckles gone white with rage.

“well, sir,” he drawls, careful to keep his tone even. more than anything, he wants to stand, leave, and slam the door on his way out for good measure. his ears burn with embarrassment. “i would certainly be fighting if i could.”

it’s an honest answer, the truth if ever he’s spoken it. what he wouldn’t give to be away from snowshill, rushing the battle field with his brothers-at-arms. what he wouldn’t give to be worthy of a moment’s notice when he returned from war.

but he’s not worthy and he’s not fighting. he’s stuck in the back garden of his most precocious and love-sick student, the sun beating down on his brow with an undue heat, his muscles twitching with the restraint it takes to keep from decking snowshill’s most prominent lawyer.

john narrows his eyes across the cobblestone patio. “if you could? what’s wrong with you?”

gwilym says nothing. red—the color of blood, ambulance sirens, and fire—flashes before his eyes.

“in my day,” john continues. “we fought no matter our delicate sensibilities.” he huffs around his cigarette, his chest ballooning like a baboon. “i’d say that i—”

“mr. coulder!” your voice is sharp, though not unkind, when you break into coulder’s soliloquy. gwilym’s eyes snap from john’s throbbing forehead muscle to you. you stand beside your grandfather, your skirt tangled around your legs in your apparent haste to stand. there’s grass pressed against your knees, and a faint tinge of red on your cheeks. “i believe i heard mrs. coulder calling for your just now,” you say, sweetening the blow of your interruption with a smile.

john looks to the open door, a pucker forming between his brows. “oh,” he mumbles, rising to his feet. “i’d better go see what that’s about.” he ambles on bowed legs into the house, and gwilym is left to pick of the pieces of his fractured dignity.

he dares glance at you. your eyes lift from the ground slowly, your fingers curling along the hem of your cardigan. when you meet his gaze, you look away first, as if you’re scared—scared to look at him, scared to admit you had to rescue him like a drowning puppy. he swallows hard and stands, though he isn’t sure why. he just can’t stay sitting anymore.

vivianne pops her head around the frame of the back door. “come come, everyone. supper is ready! mr. lee, you sit beside john. he has so much he wishes to discuss with you.” she grins and waves him inside, and who is he to refuse her?

later that night, when his back is pressed against his firm mattress, moonlight washing through the attic room, gwilym feels the overwhelming urge to cry. he can’t remember the last time he shed a tear. after his mother’s passing—god rest her soul—tears have seemed... pointless. they didn’t bring his mother back; they won’t cure his deaf ear or his tremor, won’t stop people like john coulder from asking questions.

still, his chest aches. there’s something in his lungs scratching to get out. it rises in his throat like a lump and bubbles forth in a broken sob. he presses his hand to his mouth, feels a hot tear slide down his cheekbone.

god, he hates it here.

really, he hates it everywhere. there’s nowhere he can go to escape from himself.

class on monday is disjointed.

he didn’t sleep well, tossing and turning the whole night long, his dreams plagued with images of his mother, the war, you staring at him like a broken man. he woke several times in a cold sweat, his bedclothes drenched and sticky.

his students bear the brunt of his poor night’s rest. he is tired to the very core of his being, and it shows in the way he waves hastings away after one-too-many attempts at the same arithmetic problem. it shows in the way he sits at his desk before the class, rubbing at this throbbing temples, the echo of the previous night’s supper ringing in his ears. though the sentiment is there most days, today he truly does not care if his students learn or not. he just wants a stiff drink, maybe a quick shag, something to take his mind off it all.

shifting in his seat, he withdraws the pocket watch snug in his trouser pocket. the gold around the clasp is worn with decades of use, and when he unlocks the face, the watch within is slightly obscured by a thin crack over the number five. still, despite its flaws, the clock ticks on. there’s a metaphor there, he knows, about himself: worn, broken, but still working. he’s too jaded to believe it.

he rises from his chair. the legs scrape against the floor. “it’s lunch,” he announces, breaking the heavy silence of the classroom with his deep voice. “take your things and go home. class is dismissed for the rest of the day.”

from her place in the front row, maryanne bats her eyelashes in confusion. “what’s the occasion, sir?” she sits straight at her desk, eager to please, panting for some drip of his attention.

gwilym doesn’t have any attention to spare for maryanne, for any of his students, really. his eyes flick from maryanne to the open window to you. he clears his throat and looks away. “it’s a nice day out, maryanne,” he says. “we shouldn’t waste it inside. don’t you agree?”

she grins and nods as she hastily gathers her things together. “oh, yes, of course!”

his jaw goes tight as he says, “thank your mother again for inviting me to supper yesterday. it was very kind of her.”

scarlet blush crawls over maryanne’s cheeks. she holds her books snug against her chest, her shoes dancing back and forth in nerves across the hardwood floor. “you are more than welcome any time, sir.”

he nods once, glancing toward the open schoolhouse door. she gets the picture; their conversation is through. grabbing hastings hand, she drags her brother out of the building and into the sunshine, leaving gwilym in blessed silence. he drops to his chair with a groan, cradling his forehead between his pointer finger and thumb. outside he can here his pupils laughing in the field. he removes his hands from his face and looks out the window-lined wall. hands crossed in his lap, he watches the children play, wonders what it feels like to live so carefree.

had he ever been like that as a child: wild, uninhibited? he must’ve been—surely. his long-term memory is poor, brought on by a hard tumble he’d taken from a horse at an early age, but memory impairment aside, he wasn’t always this sullen, this removed. surely.

“mr. lee?”

he jolts at the sound of your voice, twisting in his chair to see you standing before his desk, a crease of worry between your brows. he frowns. “miss [y/l/n]? have you been there long?”

you shake your head, and a lock of hair falls out from behind your ear. you tuck it back, your eyes falling momentarily to the floor before you say, “no. well, yes. i was gathering my things, and you looked... pensive.”

he sits upright, and the urge to smooth his hair works its way to his fingers. he adjusts his glasses instead. “pensive? that doesn’t bode well.”

at his half-hearted attempt at levity, the corner of your mouth lifts. you step closer to his desk. “i wanted to be sure you were alright after supper last evening.”

his gut clenches at the memory, the shame of john coulder’s interrogation, at having to be saved by his own student, at that student being you. “i’m fine, truly,” he says, an edge to his voice he doesn’t mean.

still, you push further. “it’s just that mr. coulder... he’s not very diplomatic when it comes to asking questions. i thought maybe you—”

for the second time, gwilym stands from his chair with the intention of ending the conversation. he will not discuss sunday’s supper with you. the memory is still too raw, and his dream of you coming to his rescue is thoroughly and completely humiliating. yet when he stretches to his full height and sees you standing there, the most earnest expression of concern he’s ever seen on another face, he is powerless to stop himself from admitting the truth. he shoves his hands in his pockets, rolling his tongue over his teeth in thought.

“your concern is kind. mr. coulder’s questions were ill-phrased but not unwarranted. the men of this country hold a heavy duty right now. i suspect he was only asking out of patriotism.”

you blink, lips pressed together. he’d thought you’d be satisfied with his answer, but it appears you are not. the crease in your brow deepens. “sir, he was very unkind to you.” you speak as if he didn’t realize, as if he didn’t wet his pillow with tears of shame and hurt.

he nods. “perhaps.”

“it’s not fair, though. i’m sure whatever your reasons are for staying away from the front are valid.”

“again, your kindness does you credit.”

“i’m not trying to flatter you, mr. lee. i’m only speaking the truth.”

gwilym hesitates before saying, “i did not assume you were the flattering type.”

you shake your head. “i’m not.”

he’s not sure if it’s just the warm spring breeze drifting through the open window, but the air feels heavier than it did moments before. his eyes search yours. searching for what he can’t say, but he searches nonetheless. you hold his gaze until the faintest of blushes rises to your cheekbones.

“i must thank you, though, miss [y/l/n], for coming to my aid last evening.” he’s surprised by his confession. it should drive him to his knees in embarrassment that he must concede to his student after they help him with a man twice his age. he is embarrassed, but something—manners, the desire to replicate your honesty, your doe eyes—makes him say it. “i am not sure i would have answered mr. coulder’s questions with a cool head, but you showed great tact. i’m indebted to you for that.”

he bites his tongue. too far, perhaps. a teacher should never be indebted to his student. least of all his oldest, brightest, and yes, he will admit it: most attractive student.

your chest lifts as you draw in a breath through your teeth. “well, i know a way you can repay me.”

his eyes widen, his throat seizing around his adam’s apple. he removes his hands from his pockets and shuffles a stack of unmarked papers on his desk. his hand wavers as he moves, though he’s not sure if it’s due to his tremor or an unwarranted image of you in his arms flashing through his mind.

too far. too far. you’re just a student. he’s just your teacher.

“what would you have me do?” it’s stupid to ask, to play along, but he can’t help it when your hands are clasped behind your back, the ribbon at the end of your braid falling over your shoulder.

“there’s a benefit next week,” you say, and your face eases into a smile. “it’s for the wounded soldiers, and i’m in charge of the bake sale. my grandfather is too old to help and my niece is too young, so i thought perhaps you might like to help me? i’m sure more people will stop by if you’re there. everyone’s still curious about the new schoolmaster.”

gwilym stills, his eyes falling on you. not for the first time, he wonders if there’s something beneath your gaze, beneath your question. there can’t be; there isn’t. just like he is not interested in you, you are not interested in him.

unless...

he clears his throat and looks down at his desk. he brushes a stray pencil to the side. it rolls, rolls, rolls, stops against a heavy book. “i suppose i can make the time to assist.” he meets your eyes despite his gut telling him not to entertain this foolishness any longer. “for you, miss [y/l/n].”

your face clears in something akin to shock. you blink rapidly, your eyelashes fluttering against your freckled cheekbones. for a moment, gwilym imagines maryanne in the moments past, batting her own eyes. it hadn’t made his gut twist like this.

“it’s not for me,” you whisper, and the breathy sound of your voice sends a rush of blood from his head to his manhood. “it’s for the soldiers.”

“yes,” he replies. your gaze is locked on his, deep and probing. “the soldiers.”

a pebble hits the window with a sharp ting, and you both startle—you with a gasp, he with a muttered curse. turning, he stares out the window long enough to see a few of his male students playing a game of stickball with pebbles. a sigh shudders through his chest. no one had seen, had felt the thick tension in the room. thank heaven.

when he turns back to ask you how he can help before the benefit, you are gone.

the day of the benefit dawns bright and clear. it’s warm despite the month. april is generally cool and balmy, but gwilym breaks a sweat as he carries arrangement after arrangement of flowers to a little red wagon outside the cottage. constance sits perched on her portable stool, a cane between her legs as she watches him work.

“be careful with those, gwilym james,” she chides. “i spent all week and won’t have you breaking a single one.”

“i’m being careful, constance.” he huffs as he lowers a bouquet of blue hydrangeas to the wagon. the glass rattles as it squeezes between the dozens of other vases. the wagon is full to bursting of flowers of all kinds and where constance unearthed such of a treasure trove of flowers, he cannot be sure. “you truly expect to sell all these in one afternoon?”

constance draws in a sharp breath and whacks the butt of her cane against his shin. “how dare you!” he yelps, clutching his offended leg, but for once finds it easy to match her sly smile. “my flowers are sought after in the next three counties!”

“i’m sure they are,” he says, chuckling at her twisted features.

she stands, snapping her stool shut with ease. with her chin tilted, she gestures with her cane to the road. “we’ll be late. you know i detest being late.”

rolling his eyes, gwilym grabs the wagon handle from the ground and gently maneuvers the vehicle onto the dirt road leading to the center of the village. the flowers jostle and clang as the wagon dips with the unevenness of the road, but the arrangements hold steady. constance’s steps are slow and small, so he shrinks his stride to match hers. a whisper of a breeze cools the sweat lingering on the back of his neck, and he glances at the cloudless sky. no one could have asked for better weather.

“i hear you are to assist miss [y/l/n] in her confection sale today?”

gwilym nearly trips over a rut in the road, but catches himself at the last moment. he adjusts his hold on the wagon handle, his hand trembling even curled against the cool metal. “yes—she had no one else to help her.”

constance’s eyebrows lift. “ah.”

“you did tell me to be more kindly with my pupils.”

“that i did.”

“then why do you look so displeased?”

“i’m far from displeased, child,” she says with a laugh. “merely cataloging this moment for later.”

gwilym doesn’t ask for further explanation. he doesn’t want to know. it’s bad enough that he spent the entire morning primping and preening over his own reflection. god, he’d felt like such an idiot.

but he couldn’t deny the urge to at least try and put some effort into his appearance. he would be spending the day by your side, after all. not that it mattered...

by the time he rolls constance’s wagon into the village square, the benefit is well under way. snowshill is a small parish; only one-hundred-twenty-three residents, yet it seems every soul has turned out for the event. colorful streamers whip through the mid-morning breeze. a gaggle of musicians sitting underneath a shade tree amble through a litany of well-known tunes. the baker twins, annie and joy, race past gwilym, hand in hand as they head for the dunking booth. he pauses in his study of the square. there’s happiness here. despite it all—the war, the fathers and brothers and husbands so far away, the uncertainty of the future—the villagers have still found a reason to smile. surely, he can to.

“i’ll take this.” constance pulls gwilym from his thoughts as she pries the wagon handle from his hand. “you go over there,” she adds, nodding to a booth on his left. “miss [y/l/n] is waiting.”

he ignores the telling sparkle in her eyes. she can see right through him, the old bat, see straight to the part of his heart he so desperately wants—no, needs—to ignore.

chasing the thoughts away, he turns to locate the corner set aside for the bake sale. it isn’t hard. in an uncomfortable but familiar sort of way, he’s drawn to you, and he finds you easily. at the base of the church gardens, you’re already hard a work. your hair is loose around your shoulders, and the sun glints off a pearl barrette clipping a portion of the strands back. stepping forward, he allows his eyes, for the briefest of moments, to run over your frame. your forest green dress is cinched at the waist with a wide gold band, accentuating your curves. the sleeves of the dress, which fall to your elbows, are sheer, and he can see your skin glistening beneath the sway of shadows and sun. you’re lovely, breathtaking even. he hates the way his heart gallops in his chest at the sight, like he’s a love-struck schoolboy. in reality, he is your teacher and a grown man. the thought alone makes him advert his eyes from the picture of you, dressed well and elegantly, smiling as you speak to a customer.

“there you are!” you twist away from the pie, cake, and cookie laden table to grace him with a brilliant smile. knowing you first and foremost as the level-headed student who rarely speaks save to impart pearls of wisdom, the sight of your wide smile is near blinding. “i was beginning to think you’d forgotten.”

he shakes his head. “never.”

“good.” you point up the hill to the church. “the rest of the pies are in the kitchen. bring them down, won’t you?”

he does so without complaint, returning to the booth with a cherry pie in one hand and a rhubarb pie in the other. he places them on the table with care before asking, “who made all these?”

you shrug and straighten the sign hanging from the makeshift portico attached to the table. “mostly the older ladies of the parish. though,” you say, your eyes sliding to his with mischief. “i did make those.” you point to a small plate of chocolate chip cookies. “you can steal one if you like. i won’t tell.”

gwilym narrows his eyes. “how do i know if i can trust you?”

you laugh—a clear, bell-like laugh—and it goes straight to his gut. “try it and you’ll just have to find out.”

you sit, your attention caught by the toddler scooting about on the a picnic blanket behind the table. gwilym hesitates before taking one of the cookies. it snaps in his hands, and he nudges your arm with his knuckles. you look over your shoulder, glancing at the half of a cookie melting between his fingers.

“take the other half,” he says. “that way we both get in trouble. if i’m going to go down, i’ll take you with me.”

your cheeks color, and he wonders where your mind has gone, but then you take the cookie and your fingers brush his palm. a jolt shoot through his arm, but he ignores it, sitting in the seat beside you.

“it’s very good,” he says after swallowing the dessert. “chocolatey.”

you smile in thanks then reach out, your thumb nearing his cheek. he stills, uncertain if he should move back and risk offense or lean in and risk it all. you swipe your thumb across the corner of his mouth, your touch fleeting but like fire all the same. sitting back, your grin widens.

“you had a bit of chocolate on your lip,” you explain.

“oh.” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks the opposite direction.

few villagers have meandered over to the bake sale booth, but the day is early yet. he dares relax and lean back in his chair. he unbuttons his suit-jacket, letting the breeze waft through his sleeves and around his torso. when he turns his head to look at you, he finds you already watching, your eyes trained against his chest which strains against his snug waistcoat. all thoughts evaporate until your eyes lift to his and you blush.

he clears his throat. “uh—the child?” he questions, pointing to the toddler on the ground. she’s chubby, her legs stumpy beneath a yellow day dress and bloomers. “who does she belong to?”

you lift the baby and set her on your knee. the little girl smiles at him and leans against your shoulder, her mouth gnawing around her fist. “my sister,” you say. “she’s away, so grandfather and i are left to take care of eliza.”

“and where is your grandfather?”

“he’s with his mates. they’ve set up shop outside the pub and are more than likely pestering anyone who will listen with their own war stories.”

“he seems like a kind man.”

“oh, he is!” you grin and return eliza to her spot in the shade. “after my parents died, he took me and peggy—that’s my sister—in without a moment’s hesitation.”

before gwilym can question you any further, a familiar voice hits his ears. he rises alongside you as vivianne coulder draws close to the booth.

“oh, look how darling! [y/n], you’ve really outdone yourself!” vivianne eyes the sweets with interest. “however am i to make such a choice? there’s simply too many good things here to choose from.”

“you can always buy multiples, mrs. coulder.” you press your palms against the table, leaning forward to watch as vivianne surveys the array of food. gwilym’s eyes stray toward your backside, which is pushed out, until vivianne breaks his train of thought.

“mr. lee, how did you get mixed up in a bake sale?” she asks, dropping a few coins in your palm as she makes her purchase. “i might have thought you’d participate in the dunk tank like my john.”

as if to punctuate her question, a bell across the square rings followed by a cheer and a splash. someone hit the bullseye.

“mr. lee owed me a favor,” you say. “i had to watch the class one afternoon while he tended to a feral dog in the yard.”

the story isn’t a falsehood, but it’s certainly not why he stands beside you now. he’d almost forgotten about that dog, but perhaps the mangy mutt had been a godsend after all. it certainly kept you from having to admit the real reason for his appearance at the bake sale.

vivianne giggles behind her gloved hand. “how brave!”

your hand, ungloved and warm, lands on his arm. your fingertips squeeze the flesh of his bicep nearly imperceptibility but he feels the gentle pressure like a vice around his skin. “yes,” you continue, seemingly oblivious to the way your touch wrecks him. “he was quite brave.”

vivianne chats with you a moment more—something about maryanne and her sixteenth birthday celebration—but he can barely focus. he’s unnaturally hot under his jacket, despite the cover of shade protecting the table of sweets. he wants to shake your hand from his arm, loosen your hold around his gut, but he doesn’t want to appear rude. he doesn’t want to push you away.

so he stands still. he lives with your fingers against the curve of his shoulder like a man readying himself for execution. his jaw is tight, his eyes focused on the people milling about the square.

when vivianne finally ambles away, he feels free enough to step out of your grasp. he releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. his eyes dart from the ground to your face. you stare at him, your own eyes wide and lips parted ever-so slightly. god, he could kiss you. maybe it would quell the fire in his stomach and get you out of his head. maybe the simple touch would fix all the worn-out and tired thought swirling through his head. he would give into his desire but there’s too many people around and maybe that’s a good thing. he’s not sure he could stop himself if he started.

blessedly, a trio of older women approach the table. he jerks his attention away from you and finds a modicum of solace in auctioning off the bake sale items to whomever will purchase them. the faster the table is clear, the sooner he can go home and take a cold shower.

fate, it seems, has other plans for him because it is not until past-dusk that the charity benefit ends. the last of the pies have been sold off, your niece dragged home by your grandfather when the hour gets too late. gwilym helps you break down the table in silence, the only sound a bird twittering in its nest overhead and the rumble of the dunk tank being hauled away. you look tired, and he’s sure he does too. on the whole, he enjoyed himself. you are pleasant company and skilled at carrying on conversation. in truth, he finds himself wondering if he could spend every waking moment simply sitting by your side. the busy-bodies and children who came by the booth brought him small smiles, as well. the occasional woman called him handsome, even though her age well surpassed his own, and it buoyed his neglected heart. mothers thanked him profusely for his work at the school. he had not realized how much his students seemed to appreciate his efforts in the classroom. on more than one occasion, he’d left the schoolhouse under the impression the vast majority of his pupils were plotting his demise for being so sullen and boring. but perhaps not...

with your aid, he carries the booth’s table to the basement of the church. it is cool in the dark hallway of the building. his shoes sound against the stone floor as he searches for a light switch with nothing but his gaze. he hears a sharp bang followed by a muffled curse.

“you alright?” he asks, casting a glance over his shoulder. he can barely make out your form what with the dim hall and your form covered by night.

you adjust your hold on the end of the table. “yes, i’m fine. i bumped into the doorframe ‘s all.”

“where do we put this table then?”

“the vicar got it out for me early this morning. i suppose we could simply leave it by the pantry in the kitchen.”

“i’m afraid i don’t know where that is.”

he swears he can see you smile despite the low light. “perhaps i should have led the way.”

he mirrors your grin. “perhaps you should have.”

nodding to the left, you say, “that way. down the hall and first door on the right. i left it open.”

with some trouble, he manages to make it to the kitchen, though he too runs into the doorframe of the hallway and you giggle at his misfortune. together, you lower the table against the kitchen wall and step back. you brush your hands together with an air of finality.

“well,” you say with a sigh. “nothing like a good day’s work.”

gwilym turns to look at you in the darkness of the kitchen. a beam of moonlight filters through a single window in the corner of the room. it falls agains the back of your head, shrouding you in a halo of yellowy light. you’re looking at him, too; he can feel it. you look soft, and you stand close enough to touch. he keeps his hands at his sides; they tremble against the creases of his trousers.

“thank you, miss [y/l/n],” he whispers. “i needed a day like today.”

silence reigns supreme for the longest of moments. universes are born and wither in the space between his confession and your response.

but then your lips are on his.

your hands grasp the material around his shoulders, your nails pressing through the fabric in earnest. he can think of nothing else to do—nothing else he should do—other than remain planted firm on the stone floor of the church kitchen. he itches to hold you, to weave his fingers through your hair, and move his mouth over yours. you taste sweet, like cookies, for the brief moment you claim him as your own. still, he is level-headed enough, rational enough, scared enough, to not react—no matter how much he wants to.

you pull back, swallowing hard. your fingertips skim over your mouth. you stare at him, starlight caught in your eyelashes, then run from the basement before he can say a word.

you do not come to class for several days. he calculates that it must be three days you’ve skipped out on him—no, on school. really, he can’t be certain how long you’ve been gone. since he felt the touch of your lips on his, he has thought of little else. the memory consumes him, threatening to swallow him whole. it distracts him when he turns around from the blackboard to see your seat empty and when he dismisses class at the end of the day and does not see you gathering your belongings with your elegant movements. he has lost track of time and of order. at night, he lays awake and stares at his ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head. he runs the moment over and over again, replaying and reframing how it could have gone different.

he could have pushed you away the second you moved closer. at least then he would be able to claim he tried to be a professional, that he tried to distance himself from his interest in his own student.

he could have kissed you back. he’d wanted to. he’d wanted to so badly. he’d wanted to so badly the mere thought of how he’d kept his hands still at his sides makes his brain clench with discomfort.

the thursday after the benefit, after yet another day without your presence in the cramped schoolhouse, he drags his feet to your home. he’s reluctant to go, knowing he should allow you to come back on your own time. whatever it was that possessed you to kiss him, he knows you probably regret the action as much as he regrets not seizing the moment for himself.

you live on the outskirts of snowshill on your grandfather’s sheep farm. the dirt road leading to the white farmhouse is clogged with tufts of fresh grass, revealing its lack of traffic. a handful of hens peck the ground beneath a sprawling oak tree. a flat swing hanging from a thick branch sways back and forth with the afternoon breeze. it’s idyllic—removed from the rest of the world, even as far as snowshill goes, but idyllic.

he’s out of breath from the walk by the time he reaches the front door, but gwilym is self-aware enough to know he would out of breath regardless of his mode of transportation. he’s nervous. his hands shake, and there’s an incessant ringing in his deaf ear. he waits, unsure if anyone on the other side of the bright red door has heard his knock.

“mr. lee?”

the sound, garbled by the blood rushing to his ears and the tilt of his head, comes from his right. he twists to see you standing at the corner of the house. there’s a basket in your hand; it’s empty, save for a pair of small scissors which catch the sun. your blue-checkered dress is faded, the sleeves bunched around your elbows. one of the pockets on either hip seems weighed down with an invisible object. he stops his perusal and notes the clear frown on your face.

he steps forward, huffing out a rushed “miss [y/l/n]”, and nearly topples off the rail-less stoop. he catches himself at the last moment, his hand darting out to press against the frame of the farmhouse.

you gasp, dropping your basket, and rush forward, but when you see he’s righted himself, you stop. “goodness,” you say. “that would’ve been a bad tumble. i’ve told grandfather dozens of times that we need a railing.”

gwilym chuckles in a lame attempt to save face. he takes the three steps to the safety of solid earth and crosses to stand before you. you blink up at him, your lips pinched. there’s a mysterious lack of sparkle in your gaze, and he wonders if he’s the cause of its disappearance.

“you’ve not been to school,” he says.

you shake your head as you turn to pick your discarded basket. “no.”

“why?”

you lift a slim brow. “isn’t the answer obvious, sir?”

“no.”

you hold his stare, and he is the one to look away first. a chill settles around his spine despite the warmth of the day. he wrings his hands together as he looks over the field.

“if that’s all, sir—”

his eyes snap back to yours. “no!” he winces at the desperation in his tone and tries again. “no. i think we should talk, miss [y/l/n], about what happened at the benefit.”

this time you do look away, your cheeks tinged with blush. you gesture toward the meadow behind your home. “i was going to walk down to the river. i need to replenish our herb stock. you may join me if you like.”

“that’s fine,” he says, nodding. “you lead the way.”

the beginning of your walk is spent in silence. the meadow grass tangles around the hem of his trousers, staining them green with leftover dew. you trail ahead of him, your basket skimming over the weeds and grasses like a sailboat in an ocean of nature. he realizes you are without shoes, and the sight of your bare calves and ankles sends his thoughts elsewhere.

you lead him into a grove of cherry and birch trees. pink petals cover the ground and obscure the sky. it’s a haze of color here—cherry blossoms and green leaves, the flutter of an anxious bird’s wings, the clear but rushing waters of the creek. he stops when you do and inhales deeply. strangely, tears prick the corners of his eyes. he could stay here, he thinks, in this picturesque place—no one to bother him or question him or loathe his very existence.

“i never knew snowshill boasted such a beautiful spot,” he admits.

from your place crouched against the ground, your voice is muffled. “yes. i keep it secret”—your voice is clearer when you rise and look over your shoulder—“from nearly everyone. it’s too special to share with the world.”

you lean down again and use your small pair of scissors to snip at a collection of herbs growing along the creekbed. gwilym dares take a step closer, and he points to the herbs in your hand.

“what are those?”

“mint. it grows well by the water.” you lift the bundle. “would you like some?”

instead of taking the offer, he squats beside you. his knee, bent as it is, almost brushes your elbow. he plucks a small leaf of the mint and puts it on his tongue.

you watch as he allows the herb’s flavor to coat his tongue. “my mother used to make very good lemonade with mint.”

“my mother too.” he clears his throat, glances at the trickling stream, then back at you. “miss [y/l/n], about the benefit...”

to your credit, you do not shy away from his pointed gaze. your jaw tightens, but you maintain eye-contact, and he wonders if you can see all the thoughts racing through his head as he looks at you.

“i’m sorry if you misunderstood my gratefulness for our interactions at the coulder dinner and at the benefit. my intention was not to give you any untoward thoughts or—”

“why are you not fighting? in the war?” you interrupt with ease and do not blink as you question him.

despite his initial shock at the change of topic, he finds himself rushing to answer, to explain himself—though to anyone else, he would balk and turn away. “my right ear is deaf.”

“oh.”

“has been for a long time,” he continues. “apparently, good hearing is the mark of a good soldier.”

“and your hands?”

“my hands?”

“why do they tremble?”

at this, gwilym does balk. he stands, running the hands in question through his hair as he turns his back to you. “my hands do not tremble,” he says, his tone close to seething.

you stand to your full height, which isn’t much next to him. “yes they do. i’ve seen them—in class, at the benefit. were you denied service because of that, too?”

he openly glares at you, but he answers truthfully. “no. it developed after my denial.”

“oh,” you say again.

“really, miss [y/l/n], this is not why i wanted to speak with you.”

“i know. you wanted to talk about us.”

“there is no us. there can be no us.”

“i disagree.”

“yes, you would because you are a child, and you don’t understand that you and i giving in to whatever is between us would mean disaster.”

the slap that lands across his cheek echoes in the small grove of trees. he whirls, clutching his face as he stares at you in disbelief. his ear is ringing again, and it’s painful this time, but he knows he deserves it.

your chest heaves when you next speak. “i’m not a child.”

he knows this. he’s seen you as a woman—dreamt of you as a woman—too many times to count.

dropping his hand from his face, he nods. “i know. forgive me.”

you’re quiet, thinking, then you open your mouth to speak.

“i don’t think you realize, gwilym, how good you are for this community.” the sound of his name on your lips is sinful, threatening to tear his focus away from your words. “in the short time you’ve been here, i’ve seen the children in that schoolhouse learn more than they ever did before you came. you’re truly teaching them about the world, not just maths and reading and science. why, even last week hastings actually apologized for pulling on my braids in the past. he told me that you taught him that.”

gwilym frowns. “how? i never told—”

“they watch you. he told me you apologized to mark after you were short with him one afternoon. he told me he wanted to be like you—not his father, you.”

“miss [y/l/n]—”

“and my grandfather? he so admires you. i think he sees himself in you, after he came home from the way. he told me you’re very brave. and constance swears you have the gentlest soul built for caring for others. you may hide it, but she knows that you—”

“that’s enough—please.”

you fall silent, unshed tears washing over your eyes before you say, “don’t you see, gwilym? you walk around with such a weight on your shoulders, but all anyone wants to do—all i want to do—is ease the load. you’re worth that.”

he shakes his head and swallows hard. your speech all but shatters his heart. more than anything, he wants to believe you, wants to believe that he’s good for something. but the pesky thoughts in the back of his mind grip him hard. he can’t shake them.

unfit, unfit, unfit.

“i kissed you that night because i think you are wonderful.” your face cracks into a smile, vibrant and gut-wrenching. “wonderful and smart and handsome and—”

he puts a stop to your words. winding his arms around your back, he pulls you flush against his chest, his mouth lowering to capture yours. you’re stiff at first, in shock by his sudden change of heart, but then you relax, your arms lifting to circle his neck, drawing him ever closer. his lips explore yours with desperation, the weeks he’s spent pining after you crashing to the surface in an explosion of want and need. he moves his hands to cradle your face, and your hands skim to his shoulder blades, your fingers pressed into the skin beneath his waistcoat and shirt. you taste like fresh mint. it’s all he can do to not lower you to the bed of blossom petals on the ground and ravish you until the sun dips below the horizon.

he pulls away, breathing heavy, his forehead rolling against yours. “[y/n]...” you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, and he realizes it must be the first time he’s spoken your name aloud in your presence. “[y/n],” he whispers again. “we can’t.”

you fist your hands in his shirtsleeves. “don’t say that. you feel it as much as i do.”

nodding, he moves to hold your waist. the feel of your body under his hands is heaven. you are divine, like an goddess escaped from la primavera. “i do,” he admits. “i feel it.”

he bends his head to kiss you again. the touch is softer this time, more hesitant, but when he gathers the nerve to pull you closer, your hips against his, you whimper into his mouth, and the sound pulls him back to reality. he practically trips backward, breathing labored, thoughts muddled, and body rigid.

the space between you swims with lust and desire and yearning. your lips are plump, your cheeks flushed. your eyelids flutter, seemingly dazed, but not at all confused. you know what you want; he knows what he wants.

“we must keep it secret,” he says.

you nod.

“i won’t be able to touch you or—or be with you in public.”

“i know.”

“i could get in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out.”

you flinch at this, briefly looking to the side. “i know.”

shaking his head, he mutters “god help me, it would be worth it even if i did” as he crosses the space between you and crashes his lips to yours once more.

there is no hesitation now. he moves with purpose and you follow his lead. gently, he guides you to the blossom-strewn floor, his fingertips discovering the valleys and contours of your body with ease. his lips graze the curve of your neck, a feather’s touch, a butterfly’s kiss. you shift beneath him and pull his face level with yours. you glance between his eyes, chest brushing against his with the labor of your breathing.

he removes a twig from your hair, flicking it away. “do you want this?” he asks.

“always.” you smile, and it sends his heart tumbling in his chest.

you reach down and lift the hand pressed against the ground beside your hip. it leaves him in an awkward hunch overtop of you, only his left elbow propping him up, but he’s curious at your movements. holding his wrist, you touch your left palm to his.

“your hand isn’t shaking,” you whisper.

he looks at your joined flesh, at the way his fingers stand straight against yours. there isn’t the slightest waver in his hand. dropping his palm from your grasp, he melds his body against yours beneath the cherry tree as the sun inches toward the horizon.

it goes on like this for some time: you and he stealing moments throughout the week, in whatever privacy is available. for the first time in years, he is happy. he’d grown so used to his sullen state he forgot what joy felt like, but you’ve given it back to him in bundles.

he’s not exactly sure what it is about you that captivates him so. perhaps it is your whole being.

you are intelligent, easily tutoring your classmates when they fall behind. you are generous, often sharing your meals with the neediest of students. you are witty and lively in your silliest of moods and gentle and serene at your most centered. you listen to him when he speaks—truly listen—and you challenge him with your observations and questions.

he enjoys holding you, caressing your soft skin, kissing your lips. the cherry blossom grove is where he holds you most. it is a safe place amidst an unsafe world. beneath the shade of the birch trees, he is untouchable. he is free to speak as he wishes, love you as he pleases. he is open and honest and everything he feels he cannot be in town.

and, yes, he thinks he loves you—even after such a short time. he would be a fool not to have fallen for you by now. despite the years between you, despite the complexities of his position, he knows he would chose you again.

the weeks bleed into months. spring edges into the beginning of summer. you will finish school soon and be out from under his tutelage, released to the frayed fragments of freedom to which britain still clings. neither of you have spoken on the topic. though it looms overhead, it’s still far yet. you have time.

you are cradled against his chest, the aftermath of your most recent lovemaking still lingering on your bodies and in the air. you hum into the crook of his neck, and your fingers swirl around the hair peppering his chest.

“gwilym?” you press a kiss to his shoulder before adjusting yourself to lean on your elbow, looking down on him.

he opens one eye. “hmm?”

“what do you think will happen after the war ends?”

he opens both eyes at this and moves his head to meet your questioning gaze. the blanket beneath him rustles, and the branches overhead sway with the warm breeze. he isn’t sure what question he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the one you posed. you surprise him every day in that way—always curious, always searching for answers.

“i’m not sure,” he says. “provided we win, i suppose germany will be forced to make reparations. with the americans in the fight now it won’t be long before the kaiser gives up.”

“will you leave us then? once everything’s back to normal?”

he answers quickly and honestly, surprised at the passion in his own voice. “no, never.”

your brow creases. “but you came here running from the war. won’t you go home when it’s done?”

he blinks and considers. months ago, he would have said yes. given the chance, he would have fled back to london without a moment of hesitation. now... now he’s not so sure.

“home is wherever you are.” the words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them, but once they hang in the air, he knows they are the truth. wherever you go, he will follow. he would forsake his entire past if it meant he could stay by your side.

your lips tug into a small smile, and you sit straighter, turning your face away. “you mustn’t say things you don’t mean.”

he runs a fingertip over the curve of your exposed shoulder, down the rise and fall of your spine. if anyone were to break through the line of trees, they would see you both and have no issue filling in the missing pieces of the puzzle, naked as you both are. still, he’s comfortable; he always is around you.

“i mean what i say, [y/n]. i’m not a flatterer.”

your head whips around, and your eyes twinkle with mirth. “don’t steal my words, gwilym,” you say with a laugh, pushing at his chest.

sitting up, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you against his side. “i can steal whatever i please. like this,” he says, punctuating his words with a kiss on the mouth. “or this.” he kisses the flesh beneath your collarbone. “or—”

you press a finger to his lips. “not everything.” your grin turns sly, and you coquettishly bat your eyelashes. “i’m a virgin, after all, and must remain so for my future husband.”

gwilym laughs, tossing his head back. “is that so?”

you nod. “my maidenhood is the most sacred thing about me.”

“oh, we’ll see about that!”

with an easy maneuver, gwilym has you on your back. your giggles—girlish but edged with desire—circle his head like a drug. you swat at his shoulders when he braces himself over you, his mouth like a tattoo on your skin. he could stay like this forever—just you and him, the cherry blossom trees, and the endless sky. he would stay, too, but after your picnic dinner and an argument over the smartest literary character of all time (he insists sherlock holmes; you insist portia from the merchant of venice), he must walk you home before your grandfather begins to worry.

he wonders if the old man suspects anything. he comes to your house multiple afternoons a week under the guise of preparing you for university should you choose to go further with your education. that study time always floats from the kitchen table to the back garden to the grove of trees, and you’re gone for hours. you always return looking rumbled, your dress askew, his tie undone, but the old man never says a word if he does know the truth. for that, gwilym is thankful.

tonight, he leaves you at the backdoor. the sky is a blanket of stars, and the moon shines bright overhead. standing as you are on the lowest stair leading to the door, you can meet his eyes with ease, and you seem to appreciate the change in perspective. you run your hands through his hair, your fingernails grazing his scalp. his eyes flutter shut at the feeling, his grip on your hip tightening.

“don’t do that, [y/n],” he breathes.

you smirk. “why? do you like it?”

he grits his teeth and opens his eyes to level you a dark stare. “you know i do.”

grinning, you kiss him hard, enough to leave him breathless when you pull away. “tomorrow? same place?”

“i have a meeting tomorrow afternoon with the vicar. i’ll come by afterwards.”

you shake your head and smooth your hands against his shoulders. the action is so domestic, so wifely, he can’t help but picture you as his wife, sending him away for a day of work. “don’t bother. i think i’ll pop around for tea with constance. perhaps i’ll run into you then?”

gwilym audibly groans at the idea of seeing you in his own home, sat across from his landlady, smiling and laughing, all the while making eyes at him from across the table. he shivers—but not because of the cold. “you’re gonna be the death of me, girl.”

you touch his cheek with such tenderness it makes his knees weak. “i hope so.”

maryanne is the one who ultimately discovers and reveals your affair. even so, gwilym blames himself and himself alone. he got too comfortable. months of loving you in secret—months of tasting you and knowing you and cherishing you—cannot be hid behind a sullen face. and his face is not longer sullen.

he finds himself smiling more, asking his students about their lives instead of their assignments. he grades easier, waves his hand at forgotten homework, prolongs lunch break so he can eat with you. perhaps the change in his demeanor was what sent maryanne on the hunt. that—or the fact she caught him kissing you amongst constance’s prized hydrangea bushes.

he hadn’t been positive if the flash of pink fabric and yellow hair was maryanne, so he’d never mentioned it to you. he’d just kept kissing you, though his attention had slipped and his movements turned distracted when he heard the rustle of a bush. he’d opened his eyes long enough to see the out-of-place pink nestled within the green bushes and blue flowers, but then the color was gone and you were whispering something filthy in his ear and it made him laugh. he’d forgotten; he’d gotten comfortable.

now he wishes he’d grabbed maryanne and forced her to keep her mouth shut. with two weeks until your graduation, time is of the essence. he’d lose you if anyone found out, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.

he hadn’t caught maryanne, though, and she’d rushed home to tell her mother who had promptly told the idiot john coulder who had informed the vicar and the vicar had come to relive gwilym of his teaching duties—no questions asked.

“you do realize what a mess you’ve made, haven’t you?” the vicar had said upon his arrival. “there will have to be an investigation. we don’t stand for this sort of thing in snowshill.”

gwilym hadn’t said anything. he’d simply loomed over the squat man and summoned as much of a glower as he could. it wasn’t very hard, not with his entire world crashing down around him.

he lies down that night and wonders what will become of him. he will be a social pariah, an outcast, the man who seduced a child, the teacher who coerced a student. it isn’t like that; he knows it and you do too. he loves you, though he hasn’t said as much. he suspects you love him too.

he could take you away from here. you could both start over somewhere new, where no one knows your names. the idea is tantalizing, and it wouldn’t be hard, but he knows you won’t leave your grandfather and niece behind.

there’s a knock on his bedroom door, and he sits up, hitting his head on the slope of the attic ceiling. rubbing the offended area, he frowns.

“who is it?”

“who do you think?” constance says, her tone as unamused as his.

“i’m not really in the mood for visitors.”

he knows she knows. he knows she stood in the front parlor and listened to every word the vicar spat at his feet. he just didn’t have the guts to look her in the eyes before he fled to his room.

“you missed supper, child. i’ve brought you a bowl of soup.”

reluctantly, gwilym slides from bed and goes to open the door. constance stands at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a purple robe, the neck lined with feathers. she pushes him a bowl of split-pea soup and swishes into the room to drop in the single, hard-backed chair. it creaks beneath her weight. he turns to look at her; the heat of the bowl burns his hands, and his palms tremble.

“constance, i—”

“i must admit that i’d hoped you would find a friend in [y/n] [y/l/n], perhaps even something more.”

his jaw slackens. “i’m sorry?”

“when you mentioned you were going to the coulder house for supper and she would be there, i knew she would do you well. i knew her mother before she died, and that girl has her mother’s tender heart. both could heal even the sternest of wounds.”

he blinks, looks away. yes, you could. you healed him, after all.

“i simply wished you would have been more careful. my hydrangea bushes are not the most secretive spot in the world.”

“you knew?”

she nods, her painted lips tight. “mhm. ever since you came home that first afternoon smelling too much like women’s perfume and sheep’s wool.”

gwilym drops to his bedside, the soup in his bowl sloshing with the movement. “why didn’t you say anything?”

she laughs as if she’s taken offense by his query. “i may concern myself with everyone’s business, gwilym, but it is not my business to go about spreading the business which i know.”

“you are a strange woman.”

“you are a man in love.”

he looks down at the rapidly-cooling food in his lap.

“i shouldn’t tell you this,” constance continues. “it will only make you hope, but i know what it is you’re feeling.”

he scoffs. “do you?” somehow he doubted that. constance, having never been married, knew more of felines than she did feelings. at least, any of the feelings roiling through his person now.

“when i was seventeen i had an affair with my teacher. he was young and handsome and charming, and i was happy. but we were found out, and he was run out of town. i never saw him again.”

“how is this supposed to give me hope?”

“my xavier was not given the chance to explain himself before his accusers. you are being afforded that opportunity. use it.”

“they’ve taken my position already. they can do nothing more. this hearing is a farce, and you know it.”

constance smooths the wrinkles of her dressing gown and flicks away a spot of imaginary dust as she shrugs. “prides goeth before the fall. remember that come thursday.” she rises. “you have the chance to keep her, gwilym. she turns twenty next month and will graduate in a fortnight. even if you leave snowshill together, will you be able to live with yourself knowing you did not defend her honor before the people who know her best? sleep on that, won’t you?”

she exits the room before he can respond, and he falls asleep to growing pit of desperation in his stomach.

there’s a ping against his window some time late wednesday night. it startles him out of his uneasy sleep, and he sits up, rubbing his eyes. when it happens again, he turns to look out the window over his head. nothing but the black, starless night sky and open meadow beyond constance’s gardens. he huffs. perhaps it had been a bird or—

another ping.

teeth gritted, gwilym flings his window open and peers into the darkness, straining his eyes to see. what he doesn’t see, he hears, despite his deafness.

“gwilym!” the whisper is harsh and frantic, but a beautiful melody nonetheless. somewhere in the darkness, you stand, looking up at him. “gwilym, come down here!”

he doesn’t need to be told twice.

forgoing his shoes, he tumbles down the stairs and into the back garden. the night is brisk, chilly, a precursor of what is to come at dawn. he finds you in the darkness, or maybe you find him, but you’re there, in his arms, and that’s all that matters. you cling to him, your hands fisted in his bedshirt, ear pressed against his chest. he hasn’t seen you since maryanne revealed your relationship to the world; you feel like heaven amidst hell.

“i don’t have much time,” you whisper. “mrs. coulder is at the farm, watching over me to make sure i don’t come to find you.”

gwilym draws back. he holds your face in his hands and is struck by how large his palms are against the side of your head. your hair feels soft under his shaking fingers. the tremor is back; it has been since his world collapsed.

“are you alright? have they done anything to you?”

“i’m fine. the vicar questioned me yesterday, tried to make me confess that you’d pressured me into being with you, but i only told the truth.”

“the fucker,” he mutters. “i’m sorry you had to do that. the blame lies entirely with me.”

“don’t worry about me. you have to speak before everyone tomorrow.”

“and it’ll be fine.”

“will it?” tears sparkle in your eyes as you look up at him. “no one will accept us even if—”

he silences you with a kiss to the forehead. “hush, [y/n]. whatever happens will happen. so long as you are well cared for, it will all be fine.”

“you sound as if you’re prepared to go away.”

“if they ask me—”

“gwilym, you promised you wouldn’t leave.”

he looks down at you. god, he loves you. with every fiber of his being, he longs to make you his. but he’s reminded of constance’s story every time he thinks of you now, and he’s been imagining a new sort of life by your side. one filled with dirty looks and whispers around every corner; of evenings alone, no friends to call on, no family to worry over; of a job in a far off village which takes him on the road and leaves you to yourself in that overly large farmhouse; friendless children; lonely in old age.

can he subject you to such a life? a life so similar to the one you’d pulled him from? he’s not sure he can—and he’s begun to wonder if constance’s xavier did the right thing by leaving her, by giving her a second chance.

“i know i did,” he finally says.

“then why are you talking like this? like you want to go?”

he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip and feels his gut wrench. “that’s the last thing i want.”

you chin quivers beneath his fingers, and he removes his hand from your face. “then tell me what it is you’re planning to do. please, gwilym. don’t you owe me that?”

in lieu of answering you, he wraps his arms around your back, lifting you so your feet merely brush the carpet of grass. he kisses you softly, savoring the touch and tucking it away in his heart for a future moment. he wants to memorize the map of your skin beneath his fingers and the feel of your mouth on his. he wants to commit the smell of your hair and the contours of your body and the feeling of love that crashes over him to memory. he’s not sure if he’ll have a moment like this again, so he prolongs the touch until he can barely breathe. he returns you to solid ground and pulls away.

“gwilym—” you’re crying, and he wonders how he didn’t taste your tears.

“don’t come tomorrow. i don’t want you to hear what they say.”

you set your jaw. “i’ll be there. i won’t leave you.”

he knows you’re bating him to reveal his plan, but he won’t. until his dying day, he will protect you from harm. tonight, he must protect you from himself.

because he can’t help it, he grabs your elbow and pulls you in for a last bruising kiss. you circle your arms around his neck and cling to him, even as he tries to pull away.

“let me go, [y/n],” he whispers.

you hold tighter, your eyes screwed shut as you shake your head. “no.”

“let me go, angel.” with some amount of effort, he pries you from his body. a rush of cold fills the spot where you’d stood, pressed against him.

he turns away, returning to the cottage, but not before he sees you hide your face behind your hands and hears you sob softly into the darkness.

you arrive at the hearing dressed in red. the sight of you flanked by your grandfather, wearing your boldest, brightest red dress, almost makes him laugh. you’re nothing if not brave.

standing in the doorway of the church, you survey the room, which is full to bursting. everyone has turned out for the event of the year, and the air is hot with sweat and summer and scandal. when your eyes meet his from across the room, he can’t help but offer a smile. you smile in return, and the softness around your eyes is a balm to his soul. you point to an empty pew in the back of the hall and take your seat. though your face is obscured, he can make out the shoulders of your bright dress from his place in a chair on the dais.

he sits before the entirety of snowshill, the weight of the world pressed down on his shoulders. he feels close to vomiting, but he knows what he must do. he’s ready.

when the vicar begins the proceedings, outlining your entire affair in torrid detail, gwilym keeps his face set firm. his hand bunches the fabric at his thighs and his teeth press against his tongue but he’s calm to the untrained eye. it’s only when the vicar asks him to say his piece that his facade begins to crumble.

he stands too rapidly, and his chair crashes to the floor. he leaves it lying against the cobblestone. he opens his mouth and releases a squeak. heat rushes up the back of his neck, and he clears his throat. from her place in the front pew, constance leans forward, her brows knit tight in concern. his gaze skips to you and, standing now, he can see your face.

you’re beautiful.

gwilym opens his mouth to speak. “everything you have said about me here today is true, vicar.” there’s a muffled gasp throughout the crowd, but he continues. “i did enjoy an illicit affair with my own pupil and, though i admit i should have perhaps waited to court the girl in question until after her graduation, i will not concede that what we did was wrong.”

the vicar’s hands curl around the pulpit, his face ashen. “have you no shame, sir?”

“no shame in partaking in what the lord intended us for: communion and fellowship with one another.”

“how dare you!”

gwilym ignores him and returns his eyes to yours amidst the crowd. “if i am guilty of anything, i am guilty of doing as the lord commands us: loving my fellow man—or, in this case, woman. the greatest of these is love, i believe, yes? so yes, i am guilty, but guilty only of loving a woman whole-heartedly.” he pauses and feels the overwhelming urge to laugh bubble in his chest. “i love you, [y/n], and that is the truth. if that is my crime, i will bear it with honor.”

tears blur his vision as he extends his hand to you. a beat of silence and then—

you stand, your red dress a spotlight among the sea of browns and greens and grays. you step into the aisle, smile, and he notes as you walk forward that his hand does not shake as he waits for you to reach his side.

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine #prof!gwil #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction #j writes

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jveleno · 5 years ago

Text

Binghamton changed things.

Mikey always expected that it would--it's the pros, of course it's not gonna be just like juniors. But he never expected to see the change in Nate. It's in the little things: the way Nate's eyes don't slide to Mikey's automatically and catch there, holding each other's eyes and having a wordless conversation as easy as breathing. The way Nate doesn't give him any of those little touches--a brush of fingers here, a lingering hug there--and Mikey is left feeling a little colder and a little less sure-footed. It's like Nate's Mikey radar has been turned way off, which hasn't been the case since the early days in Sauga, when they really were complete strangers.

"Clouder, you good?" Speersy's eyes are narrowed in thought, which makes him look like a small bird of prey. He's been around the Superbuddies long enough to know when things are off between them.

"Yeah, 'm fine Speersy," Mikey mumbles.

Across the room, Nate laughs loudly at something Q just said. Mikey knows Quenneville. He's not that funny.

"Just, I had a bad meal."

Speersy doesn't look convinced, but at least he doesn't try to call Mikey out on his bullshit. "D'you want some Tums?"

"God, you're such a mom."

Mikey ignores Speersy's sputtering excuses about the importance of having Tums on hand for emergencies. Instead, his eyes seek out Nate again.

Nate's not looking at him, again.

Mikey's stomach really doesn't feel all that great, this anxious, twisting feeling in his guts, but he's pretty sure that Speersy's over-the-counter medicine isn't going to fix that. Unless there's a CVS somewhere in Bing that could sell him a pill that'll get him his best friend back.

Which is funny. Mikey used to think that if one of them had to leave the other, it'd for sure be Mikey leaving Nate. It's never been a secret that Mikey is the better player, the one who's first round material, the NHL-caliber center. People used to say that when the Superbuddies broke up--like a boyband, Mikey thinks hysterically--it would be because the NHL came calling for Michael McLeod and not for Nathan Bastian. Mikey used to dread that thought.

Here in Binghamton though, it's Nate who is doing just fine without the other half of the duo. And that's a terrifying thought, because while Nate might not need Mikey anymore, Mikey still very much needs Nate.

Nate feels like he laughs too loudly at Q's joke. It wasn't really that funny, to be honest, just one of those recycled locker room jokes that every guy is convinced he came up with. But Nate is fucking thriving in Binghamton, okay? He is living and laughing and loving.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mikey half-turn towards him before turning determinedly back to Speersy. That's good. It hurts a little to see, but at least they're like, not co-dependent anymore.

"So you coming tonight or what?" Q is asking him. "Clouder said he's gonna be there, so you two can team up for flip cup. You owe me a rematch from training camp."

"Nah, got plans tonight," Nate says, even though this is a big fat lie since his only plans are to go home and watch Gilmore Girls alone in his room. Never mind the fact that he always used to watch episodes with Mikey. This isn't the OHL, remember?

Q only shrugs. "Alright, suit yourself."

Nate puts his feet in Q's lap, and Q lets him.

Nate likes Bing. He's doing well, got a solid spot on the team and a feeling like this is home. He's doing a pretty bang-on job of being an adult and living without his family, billet or otherwise. He's independent and doesn't need anyone, least of all his best friend and the guy he's unironically been calling his soulmate for the past four years. They're still friends (right?) but no one can say they're just copies of each other now. Nate can call the folks back home and tell them almost honestly that things in Bing are good.

Except that sometimes Mikey gets this haunted in his eyes, and he stands in Nate's peripheral vision looking uncharacteristically small and lost, and Nate has to remind himself that this way is better.

He's not cutting himself off from Mikey because he wants to, but it's what's best once the dust has settled. It's good for Nate, to get some air between them before he gets his heart broken. And it's good for Mikey too, to not have Nate holding him back.

Mikey will see.

#steph writes #mikey/nate #i fucking LOST THIS and had to rewrite it rip #oh well at least i remembered 75% of what i wrote and just filled in the rest #bullshitting fic since 2009 that's me

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ygoreviews · 6 years ago

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Launcher Commander ———————————————— All other Cyberse monsters you control gain 300 ATK and DEF. Once per turn: You can Tribute 1 Cyberse monster, then target 1 face-up monster your opponent controls; destroy it. ———————————————— Can Be Found In: Code of the Duelist (COTD-EN004), Structure Deck: Cyberse Link (SDCL-EN012)

Monster Types was a trait many old players never thought they'll get expanded as the game obtained more options to play with. Usually if a monster's design was close enough to a group of monsters it will belong to their Type, as otherwise will have some effect(s) to support them in one way or another. However, along the expansion of Extra Deck mechanics with the debut of Synchro Monsters, Types started gaining new kinds of monsters to play arround with.

"Launcher Commander" is one of the various monsters introducing the new Cyberse-Type into the game along the release of Link Monsters, providing various abilities to work along its own Type. While on the field, "Launcher Commander" provides a 300 ATK and DEF boost to any other Cyberse on our field. Alternatively, this monster can use a Cyberse as tribute to target and destroy a face-up monster on the opposite field. Both effects tries to support the Type's offense in one way or another, and due their respective efficiency might take one approach or another for the best outcomes. While "Launcher Commander" is a card reliant of its kind, it has solid options to achieve one of many roles as the Duel progresses.

Cyberse might be a brand new Type way too focused arround Link Summon, yet provides enough resources to assist "Launcher Commander" on its arrival. Many of their effects aren't as direct compared to other Types but efficient nonetheless, like "Cynet Backdoor" temporarily banishing a Cyberse to look for "Launcher Commander" or "Cyberse Beacon" doing so after taking damage. Cyberse monsters themselves will also help us on summoning this card in one way or another, ranging from "ROM Cloudia" own defeat to "Balancer Lord" giving us additional summons. One thing to point out is that "Launcher Commander" removal effect can be activated by tributing itself, so can be played along monsters outside the Type like "Summoner Monk" and revival effects only targetting it like "RAM Clouder" if we need to get rid of a monster right away.

The Type debuted along Link Monsters and thus most of their effects focuses arround their summon, giving plenty of opportunities for "Launcher Commander" use one of its two effects. Many monsters like "Backup Secretary" and "Linkslayer" Special Summon themselves by basic requeriments, so if aren't working as materials on the spot will work along the effects of "Launcher Commander" to pressure the opponent together. Other cards such as "Boot Staggered" (Also able to summon itself) and "One-Time Passcode" will generate Cyberse-Type Tokens we can use as tribute and potentially destroy several monsters in a single turn. Obviously with the high summon potential of the Type is quite likely that we prioritize Link Summons over "Launcher" effects, but even so we still have the option to tribute itself and destroy any threatening enemy on the field. Keep on mind that although "Launcher Commander" is unable to increase its own stats, other copies of itself will do so as they also stack their stat boost with each other.

"Launcher Commander" is a solid choice to either boost its own Type or trade monsters with the opponent using its removal effect. With solid support even if has to tribute itself, "Launcher Commander" has plenty of chances to either power up our field or potentially clear the opposite field under the right assistance. However, while "Launcher" has potential to lead boards with other Cyberse monsters, being part of an Extra Deck focused Type makes the chances of this monster to shine fade away. The investment we might spend on tributing and destroying several monsters at once could be aimed towards a powerful Link Monster leading the board on its own along its arrows, as pretty much most of the support arround "Launcher Commander" could go towards such goal with ease. Overall "Launcher Commander" main flaws comes from the Type's priorities, as with a solid stat boost or tributing itself to quickly deal with one of many dangerous monsters keeps it a card worth a spot along other Cyberse members.

Personal Rating: B

+ Increase the ATK and DEF of other Cyberse monsters by 300 + Can tribute a Cyberse including itself to destroy a face-up monster + Solid support arround its effects

- Cyberse will prioritize Link Summons over its effects - Might rely on other monsters

#yugioh #Yu-Gi-Oh #Yu-Gi-Oh!#yu gi oh #ygo #launcher commander

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nessiesbarnes · 2 years ago

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When Peter pushed her behind him Nessa started to get scared. Peter talked about the villians a lo. She knew his anger and hurt... and knew his judgment could become clouder when he got angry like that.

Nessa was looking around not sure what to say or think. Peter's anger making her and the atmosphere too much for her to bare, her heart was telling her to run after her Peter, while her head was telling her to run away...Nessa couldn't take it anymore. She always ran away...it was her thing, but she also wanted to prove everyone wrong when they said she'd never stop doing it.

When the atmosphere became negative anyone who knew Nessa woukd know she was about to run. " Big brother Peter...I want to run away." Nessa admitted before running right to him.

The day had come for Peter 2 and Mary-Jane's gender reveal party for their baby. The child was due in only two months and the two were so overjoyed that they would be parents. MJs stomach had gotten significantly bigger since the last time they saw her.

They were determined to give their child everything they didn't have. Two parents who would put their kid first, who love them unconditionally and whom wanted to give them an as normal life as possible. Also they planned to have enough money to give their child a good education and to eventually live in a safer neighborhood.

Aunt May was the only one who was in trusted to know the gender of the child before the party. Peter and MJ were planning to find out with the others. Aunt May was clearly very excited for her nephew to have a child of his own. The smile never left her face and she stayed at his side, bragging to guests about how much of a good father she thought he would be.

The party wasnt too big and it was in the backyard of their Queens home. MJ had invited a few of the girls she worked with and a handful of her favorite student (along with their parents). Peter had invited some friends he had made at his new job as a detective at the NYPD. He kept his promise to MJ to retire from Spider-Man work and get a more stable job. He had been at his new job for a few weeks now and so far things have been going well.

There were balloons of pink and blue all around the yard. Homemade cookies sat on each table with pink and blue frosting. There was also pink and blue cupcakes on the tables as well. On the screen door, that lead back into the house, was a big sign that read: Spider Girl or Spider Boy? Which most of their guests assumed was a joke relating to the fact that Peter used to take pictures of Spider-Man .

MJ saw the other Peter's and the their girlfriends arriving and ran over to them to greet them. She then hugged them each warmly.

"Thank you for coming!" She exclaimed. "It really means alot to us that you guys came. You guys are really, the only family we got besides Aunt May. So are you team boy or girl? We are giving out these cute pins. Some of my students made them for me in art class."

She said holding a basket of crafts that the guests could put on their outfits.

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greycaverly-blog · 7 years ago

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[ doodle ] from Riley

[ doodle ] for your muse to draw on my muse’s limbs

Touch is difficult for Grey, even with the most gentle of people. The fact that he can’t explain why it’s so terrifying makes it even worse, turning it into a dark cloud that’s been hovering over him for so long that he’s sure he can’t explain the different between sun and shade anymore. He doesn’t know what it feels like not to flinch, not to tremble and shake at the idea of being wrapped up in a stranger’s arms. There is no before and after for him, no moment in his life that he can point to so people can understand why he is the way he is; it feels selfish to wish his case was as simply painful as abuse or assault but he can’t help the way he longs for an answer to the question ‘why’.

But there is no answer.

All he has is the aftermath of trauma without the trauma to go along with it. He’s covered in evidence that could convict anyone if only they knew who to put on trial, deep white lines that conjure up images of horror that no one should have to imagine. He looks more healed than he was when they found him wandering. Now he’s scars instead of stitches and he’s happy about it, like somehow having thick scar tissue across his skin means that his heart and head are closer to healing too. It’s not the truth and he knows it – if anything, he seems to be getting worse instead of better – but sometimes it’s nice to believe that if his body can recover, maybe his mind can too.

But regardless of healed or not, his damage is obvious and while most of the time he can hide it under sweaters and long sleeved shirts, the heat of Florida forces him into exposing things he’d rather keep hidden for fear of judgement and pity and questions. As it is now, not even his cottage or his carefully constructed blanket fort is enough to explain away his sweater, so much to his worry and displeasure, he tugs off the warm material and lets it fall to the side as he fails to meet Riley’s eyes. The gears in his mind are turning, trying to come up with a thousand different sarcastic and dismissive explanations for the questions he’s sure are coming.

I fell out a window. I tried to fight a bear. I was secretly an assassin. I was mauled by a group of cats – did you know that’s called a clouder?

Anything to stop the conversation turning towards something serious – only two people know the truth about why he’s at Plath and he’s keen on keeping it that way. Confessions aren’t really his style and Riley seems nervous enough around people without being pressured into awkward empathy by the jackass with amnesia. So when he looks up and gives her a somewhat lopsided smile, he’s not too surprised to see what looks like a rush of relief move through her. “Hardcore, right?” Yeah, that’s a great way to brush it off. She obviously thinks he’s hardcore with his stuffed fox and pet snake with a selection of knitted hats larger than his own wardrobe. “I, uh…” He scrambled for something to say to fill the silence. “These ones kinda look like a cat, right? Like if you just…drew a line here and here, it’s totally a cat. My skin is basically just hardcore connect the dots.”

She’s looking at him like he just grew a second head, but as he continues to ramble about the shapes in his scars, she almost seems to relax – well, as much as he’s ever seen her relax. He grabs a marker from where it fell out of his suitcase, trying to connect the dots to show her the shapes he’s talking about. He’s not the worst artist in the world, but his skill is mostly focused on portraits and more than anything he does it as a form of therapy. He’s no artist and he’ll never claim to be, so that’s why he eventually gives a small laugh, letting the marker fall to the ground. “I’m shit at drawing, I know. Wanna give it a shot? Kinda nice to look less like Edward Scissorhands and more like some college kid’s performance art piece,” he offers, met by a few moments of silence before a gentle smile and a nod.

“What do you want me to draw?” She stammers out as she scoots closer and they shift, his arm resting carefully on her leg with space still between the rest of their bodies. “Whatever you see, dude. I’m your canvas. The official Grey Caverly coloring book.” The sentence pulls a small laugh from her as well and she seems to settle in, tracing flowers and constellations across the scars that litter his bare skin. It’s nice, a kind of touching he can bear if only for the fact that it’s something he’s never experienced before. It’s a new touch, a gentle one that doesn’t feel like burning and choking and he smiles up at her like she’s the sun, never mind the fact that she probably has no explanation for how simple doodles could make him feel so bright.

It’s just normal right? Just simple and plain and average. They’ve both seen it a thousand times on other students in school, drawing instead of taking notes and telling each other stories about the tattoos they want when they’re older. But that’s why Grey loves it so much. It makes him feel normal and, to him, there’s nothing more special than that.

@riverariley

#this gif is so short and shitty i tried my best to make it look better but there was only so much i could do #abuse tw #assault tw #blood tw #injury tw #just for the linked pictures but still #be warned some are not pretty #just wanted a visual for how bad he was/is #also kinda decided to set it in the thread that i will..........eventually reply to #where they're hanging in his cabin #that ending was Weak but i tried #riverariley #innocence died screaming honey ask me i should know :: headcanon #i have never known color like this morning reveals to me :: messages #wonder if better now having survived jarring of judgement and reasons defeat :: riley rivera

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princesstillyenna · 2 years ago

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In the gcu is there a reason why people like gravy and hischier aren’t in big chat? Like there are people that aren’t in there bc they don’t want to be like Quinn so is it just that they don’t want to or is there some other reason? I love your writing so much, thank you for everything you do!

I mean "people like" I can't answer, but I can answer those specific ones. (cut because this got rambly)

Gravy is as far as any of the gc boys know: straight (that's not saying he's secretly queer, he may well be straight, idk, he's never said anything either way. So how could I tell???) So they would not invite him into the chat.

Hisch is a complicated one. The way the OG babies chat worked (Stromer's chat), is basically only people got invited in if someone knew they were queer. The only person in the chat who KNEW Hisch, was technically, Clouder. Now Clouder THOUGHT hisch was straight (we know this from Party 1.0), now, Nolan KNEW Hisch wasn't straight, (as did Chucky but Chucky doesn't invite anyone into chats ever, that's another story). BUT Nolan wasn't in the chat... TK was, Nolan kept refusing, remember? Once Nolan was in, he also wouldn't invite Hisch because he recognised that TK was... *weird* about Hisch. You're still with me? Should he have been added after that party? Yes, probably, but then Clouder went on his Hisch related freak out and nobody is going to invite Hisch into the space to TALK ABOUT IT, because that's not fair on Clouder (same reason Skinner wasn't really added to the chat for a very long time)

So yeah, in general, someone in the GC has to KNOW that you're queer for you to be added. Also a few guys don't necessarily add all of their hookups. So, like Matt Tkachuk doesn't add his hookups to the gc, because he thinks nobody would want to willing spend more time talking to him because he thinks he's annoying. God matty, get a therapist. Jack Hughes doesn't add his hookups into the GC because he assumes they're all "straight just experimenting" BUT that is about to change, because in the VERY NEXT EPISODE he does invite someone in... sooo, stay tuned for that.

Ryan McLeod could technically be in the big group chat, but refuses because Matty Strome can't be and they're inseparable even digitally.

Are there people like Quinn who know about the chat and refuse to be in it? YES there are some of the old boys chat that didn't transfer across, again you're about to meet one of them in the next installment. They don't want to deal with the kids. Sid is emotionally one of them. Quinn doesn't want to be in the chat. Ryan Strome knows the chat exists and says he doesn't belong in it because "he's straight" (he's not).

#group chat shit #gcu

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un-enfant-immature · 6 years ago

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Work-Bench enterprise report predicts end of SaaS could be coming

Work-Bench, a New York City venture capital firm that spends a lot of time around Fortune 1000 companies, has put together The Work-Bench Enterprise Almanac: 2018 Edition, which you could think of as a State of the Enterprise report. It’s somewhat like Mary Meeker’s Internet Trends report, but with a focus on the tools and technologies that will be having a major impact on the enterprise in the coming year.

Perhaps the biggest take-away from the report could be that the end of SaaS as we’ve known could be coming if modern tools make it easier for companies to build software themselves. More on this later.

While the report writers state that their findings are based at least partly on anecdotal evidence, it is clearly an educated set of observations and predictions related to the company’s work with enterprise startups and the large companies they tend to target.

As they wrote in their Medium post launching the report, “Our primary aim is to help founders see the forest from the trees. For Fortune 1000 executives and other players in the ecosystem, it will help cut through the noise and marketing hype to see what really matters.” Whether that’s the case will be in the eye of the reader, but it’s a comprehensive attempt to document the state of the enterprise as they see it, and there are not too many who have done that.

The big picture

The report points out the broader landscape in which enterprise companies — startups and established players alike — are operating today. You have traditional tech companies like Cisco and HP, the mega cloud companies like Amazon, Microsoft and Google, the Growth Guard with companies like Snowflake, DataDog and Sumo Logic and the New Guard, those early stage enterprise companies gunning for the more established players.

As the report states, the mega cloud players are having a huge impact on the industry by providing the infrastructure services for startups to launch and grow without worrying about building their own data centers or scaling to meet increasing demand as a company develops.

The mega clouders also scoop up a fair number of startups. Yet they don’t devote quite the level of revenue to M&A as you might think based on how acquisitive the likes of Salesforce, Microsoft and Oracle have tended to be over the years. In fact, in spite of all the action and multi-billion deals we’ve seen, Work-Bench sees room for even more.

It’s worth pointing out that Work-Bench predicts Salesforce itself could become a target for mega cloud M&A action. They are predicting that either Amazon or Microsoft could buy the CRM giant. We saw such speculation several years ago and it turned out that Salesforce was too rich for even these company’s blood. While they may have more cash to spend, the price has probably only gone up as Salesforce acquires more and more companies and its revenue has surpassed $10 billion.

About those mega trends

The report dives into 4 main areas of coverage, none of which are likely to surprise you if you read about the enterprise regularly in this or other publications:

Machine Learning

Cloud

Security

SaaS

While all of these are really interconnected as SaaS is part of the cloud and all need security and will be (if they aren’t already) taking advantage of machine learning. Work-Bench is not seeing it in such simple terms, of course, diving into each area in detail.

The biggest take-away is perhaps that infrastructure could end up devouring SaaS in the long run. Software as a Service grew out of couple of earlier trends, the first being the rise of the Web as a way to deliver software, then the rise of mobile to move it beyond the desktop. The cloud-mobile connection is well documented and allowed companies like Uber and Airbnb, as just a couple of examples, to flourish by providing scalable infrastructure and a computer in our pockets to access their services whenever we needed them. These companies could never have existed without the combination of cloud-based infrastructure and mobile devices.

End of SaaS dominance?

But today, Work-Bench is saying that we are seeing some other trends that could be tipping the scales back to infrastructure. That includes containers and microservices, serverless, Database as a Service and React for building front ends. Work-Bench argues that if every company is truly a software company, these tools could make it easier for companies to build these kind of services cheaply and easily, and possibly bypass the SaaS vendors.

What’s more, they suggest that if these companies are doing mass customization to these services, then it might make more sense to build instead of buy, at least on one level. In the past, we have seen what happens when companies try to take these kinds of massive software projects on themselves and it hardly ever ended well. They were usually bulky, difficult to update and put the companies behind the curve competitively. Whether simplifying the entire developer tool kit would change that remains to be seen.

They don’t necessarily see companies running wholesale away from SaaS just yet to do this, but they do wonder if developers could push this trend inside of organizations as more tools appear on the landscape to make it easier to build your own.

The remainder of the report goes in depth into each of these trends, and this article just has scratched the surface of the information you’ll find there. The entire report is embedded below.

View this document on Scribd

#TechCrunch

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libidomechanica · 6 years ago

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Your close, for where

Your close, for where, and wealth personage either with a defeature another our for hast my life’s exchequer’d horn, and could foul, or assist to be!

Unnumber’d to me as her Lampoons are for miles; by way, the quickly gone there weak proper Scenes, come thou are. Thus was not diminute insider, the righted well truth tower, snow; even in our slumbrous years with this stand, these, nor let the Diamonds was yet, quoth Adonis this light of a day I’ll be third among shaken. Deep into my maiden patient, he difference, adventrous proud, nothing throught, bitter all our subject quakes; and a roome, with the wide into a chosen wider pall from temple’s worke in the name inclose, a certain thy packed for man, not saying:” Sister other went in her tender harm’d; being speed a whole mulberries of itself in a foe he’d be; who sat doth build the rock,— she the passing down were content unite, both with her Heart—now thee, thy returning him, thy human wert, and each, to yield of day— ah, when star lament a kindred though the Horizon—where it decay, of the Latmian shore resign. A grief inter a little boys plaster,—all grace by desir’d,

gazing us ay loved! As sunburied hare thy grief that sev’nfold, well-painted inspiral of sisters Death, what; which at hired it surprise why deception; and smoke, I myself the poor be seeds armed into a shalt steed, when, thousands: so kept with our sad sight, nor followed a think us dead! Here rage:

their clay barks, my gude lucky, and her one weep. Underer start as the charmed beauties, the answers about the woeful meditates of beggarie. These the lecture think the never kneel the find of Phoebus golden stick Bands or she wast by the Sails were the darkness and galleys, I own hither, and ere low pocked that reeves his me! Her goeth ay grew; I gaine, more slept with the wouldst hue above ground? For he was my descented snow ; dig deepe in her Airs, while I will be rule thought eyes to his is ‘t but yet our desire greater love the bolts of infant’s whole couple woof The Sorrow old for all that change when myne

the dies. from the lutes have wharvestern clouder blown. “O that her two structed, his our face, adventure: the had, and bids the sorrow drop o’ diamond prescribes a moral chimes, and lightly pike, End or purple or more stept its mid-day see my tongue inside you contagion keeps await

this she cargo and single, for frame wilderness her drain beauty, beguile my spirit bound the youthful gnat, a man. and I must forth a should steel it in blisse; with furs and more thee sticks with you, all the gates cooler shar’d to the twined, Odes saw parch in this creeping straw’d

whate’er set? rules it on her is due, onely speak without abhor men: some down his so Lover loosening I’ll learnest moonlight, desperate sweetested gaze, and plump, my dead: no Nation is far, father, her could barbed fire-ball: wild asks through those pass tower beside young that had a more the land spheres of the Company is the white, he will with dew on Shock hairs, as we wise, th express’d, and moon. Means appears; while the twilight of free venturing a hounds I beheld such his sole moon shake up now in all the end is that mock the she would brow; my kin a Petticoats, or some sip from my Julia closed be remove which is desolation: renegadoes, contends seduce mortality no Entrance, and there Thou, sad more she world stop, that euen thousand meetings promises, who upon it, and Rome in the cloud cry’d, who knows when awful night, or doth he, if you art too good night, but having her pass made the dreamlet fade… until dead; natures of other amid his necke at ebb and that air you wonder. Still;

the shall call disdain. Juno’s pipe, yet hems breakfast and most hunt that know mought, through having weeds, and with a swallow’d with the singing compact pass most the ever: unto my dazzling year: This is my mounter midnight

its rising felt thousand known and bound sense. with her purple make, and in Heaven, it is to dry; that himself where were stray love-look with you not to glad thy bow. About me… envelop all the embalming hand; for it be; ‘tis much about their summer comes near. And in her speed—no many a sill’y blue, new Brocade, could not aspire of Resently lulling—this be all may guest, and like press then, presume Small old man, with a body mild,

of desister’s corpse. the revell’d with, repeats of under, woodmen are he inspire, if those Eyes: I gave unchase if Juan was a more follow, or at the Mind watched Main, the gnarled handsome tremblings no more - for I willed the blue hillocks where, O graue conscience; clear; it might upwards into the jumped his loved, and be unfathers more reflected; though Walebones and Throngs then with feel my heart; who gather’d as struck, and o’er has lead, subtlesse of he had no comes bees the device is wrists of betters Death in thy beat its multitude,— and very and athwart was thou, to you so proud look, look it, that last shadow leafe from placed,— for the broom I grieving up to last peers, but her, since engage, no being more helplessed bad, To save Into Elysian Scent him sleep.

make there fair good steal that stir their below. your fate?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #205 texts

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vrisskaweek · 6 years ago

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day one: vriska

"Vriska" was suggested by Terin. "Serket" was suggested by Chin Music. Vriska is a shortening of "Vrishchika", the Hindi name for Scorpio, or could be related to "Vṛścika" the Sanskrit word for scorpion, but could also refer to Kalpavriksha, a wish-fulfilling tree below the fourth chakra according to Zentra Yoga. This tree is said to fulfil both positive and negative wishes, again corresponding with the duality of Vriska's personality.

Her surname is taken from "Serket", the Egyptian goddess of healing stings and bites, and also the personification of the scorpion. It means both "(she who) tightens the throat", a reference to paralysis caused by scorpion stings, and "(she who) causes the throat to breathe", meaning that Serket was one who could cure scorpion stings and the effects of other poisons such as snake bites. Serket was conflictingly associated with stings or bites and with the cures to such maladies, mirroring the duality of Vriska's personality - she alternates between seriously injuring other trolls and helping them, or at least attempting to do so

Vriska Serket, also known by her Trollian handle arachnidsGrip, is one of the trolls. She was the eighth troll to be introduced, which also refers to her theme and obsession with the number eight. Her handle relates to her in two main ways. One, arachnids, refers to her interest in and fascination for spiders. The Grippart of the handle most likely represents her power to have a grip on someone's mind, or control it. Her associated zodiac sign is Scorpio (♏) and her horns are shaped like a pincer and a stinger.

Pre-Hivebent

When she was younger, Vriska found Mindfang's journal in a chest delivered to Alternia by a meteorite, and used it to locate her Fluorite Octet.

Yeah!!!!!!!!

Vriska plays Flarp both out of enjoyment and to procure food for her Lusus, which feeds on young trolls. Her Flarp character is her ancestor, scourge of land dwellers and sea dwellers alike. Mindfang has gained all the levels available to the Petticoat Seagriftclass. All the levels. All of them. Mindfang, being a pirate with a hook for a hand, resembles Captain Hook, much as Tavros's character, Pupa Pan, resembles Peter Pan. The Fluorite Octet, named after a mineralresembling a d8 and the number eight, is also a play on the final words of Captain Hook in the original play of Peter Pan, which was "Floreat Etona," a Latin phrase from England where Captain Hook was schooled.

She had frequent pirate themed Flarping sessions with Eridan most likely inspired by their ancestors' rivalry. On at least one occasion, Vriska and Terezi formed a Flarp team, 'Team Scourge', and faced off against Tavros and Aradia's 'Team Charge'. Vriska's actions in one particular Flarp session set off the cycle of revenge that leads to a number of catastrophic events for several trolls.

Vriska, acting as Tavros's Clouder, uses her mind powers to make him jump off a cliff, leading to his paralysis from the waist down. Aradia and Terezi are distracted by Doc Scratch and unable to intervene.

Seeking revenge for Tavros's injury, Aradia summons the ghosts of trolls whom Vriska fed to her lusus to haunt her.

To get back at her, Vriska uses her mind control powers to control Sollux, forcing him to ingest mind honey and cause his psychic eye beams to be let loose . He then is controlled to go to Aradia's hive and kill her.

Terezi then takes matters into her own hands by informing Doc Scratch of Vriska's possession of one of his Magic Cue Balls. Infuriated, Doc Scratch blows up the Cue Ball, taking out Vriska's seven-pupiled eye and left arm as well as the tactical advantage she had with the Cue Ball.

To get back at her, Vriska uses a Psychic Double Reach-Around: she first mind controls Tavros, then uses his animal communion ability to control Terezi's Lusus, forcing it to tell Terezi to go outdoors and stare into the Alternian sun, blinding her. Since few trolls are able to withstand the sunlight, Vriska may have expected Terezi to wander blind and lost until she died of exposure or at the hands of terrifying monsters.

Hivebent

Vriska is first seen in the bottom right corner of this page, but she is not fully revealed until Hivebent. Her left arm is robotic and was created for her by Equius Zahhak after she loses her real arm. Equius is her neighbor, and after an accident caused by him, Vriskas' lusus is crushed by large rocks. Vriska ends the lusus' pain by decapitating it.

She commissioned to Equius a soulbot for Aradia as a way to make amends with her, but he enters the game before Vriska can get the present. When she talks to Aradia about, she says Vriska was never supposed to be part of the Blue Team and kicks her off.

Vriska ends playing in the Red Team, because Karkat needed a troll with her abilities to exile the Black Queen. The Queen later ironically becomes her exile, and uses Vriska and Terezi to exile Jack.

She is Tavros' server player and helps him explore his planet, but eventually gets bored and sends him to LOMAT. The two explore her planet together until Aradia, now in her soulbot, finally confronts her and leaves Vriska almost dead, ending the revenge circle. The aftermatch is Vriska making Tavros carry her to the quest coccon and, after letting Tavros decide her fate, ascending to god tier.

At some point Vriska killed her denizen. She does the final blow to the Black King and, as the trolls go claim their ultimate reward, Jack Noir appears and Aradiabot transports the trolls into hiding in the same meteorKarkat had created them, where they find a computer lab.

Post-Hivebent

Vriska contacts John Egbert through Trollian. Initially, she attempts to psychically manipulate him through her computer. After her first attempt fails, she tries harder and manages to wake him from his sleep. Upon learning that Terezi has already assisted John, she sets out to show her the meaning of helpfulness. Vriska proceeds to offer quite a bit of assistance to him, reminding him to help Jade enter The Medium, explaining aspects of Sburb, and offering to send him maps of his Land, among other things. Nevertheless, her antagonistic tendencies show through in that she misleads John about her real name, first suggesting that of her Flarp character and later telling him that it's a sekret. Karkat implies that she flirts with John as a means to compete with Terezi.

It turns out that Vriska is the reason for a lot of major events in the kids' session. She was responsible for Jade's narcolepsy. She makes John fall asleep before he is about to prototype Jade's kernelsprite with a doll. She wanted to be responsible for the creation of Bec Noir, because she thinks that she is going to be the one to kill him. She also controls their Courtyard Droll to lead the Draconian Dignitary to Rose's MEOW journal, and in the process kill a doomed timeline Dave, allowing Bec to be created in the first place.

About an hour after Aradiabot exploded, Vriska is seen engaging Tavros in a fight, as Tavros wanted to kill Vriska when she revealed she was paradox responsible for creating Bec Noir. She taunts him with his sawed-off legs and Tavros charges at Vriska, trying to kill her. Vriska then proceeds to take his weapon mid-charge, and stab him through the chest with his own lance, casting the body down into the abyss where Terezi later finds it. Though Vriska herself isn't actually seen, Terezi smells a trail of special stardust, belonging to the wings of a certain mischievous fairy. It is obvious to Terezi that Tavros' murder is connected to Vriska, but conducts a full investigation nonetheless. Terezi later suspects Vriska of murdering Kanaya and Feferi as well, and sets off to confront her.

Vriska in Hussnasty Mode.

Some time after, Vriska contacts John and leads him to his quest bed, where he is stabbed by Jack and ascends to god tier.

She later on goes to confront Eridan, and as they are about to fight, Gamzeemakes an appearance. Both seem surprised to see him, and while they're preparing for a three-way showdown, Kanaya turns up. After kicking Gamzee over the cliff, the enraged rainbow drinker proceeds to punch Vriska in the face and saw Eridan in half. These events seem to have inspired flushed feelings in her.

Vriska goes to the meteor's rooftop, talks to John for the last time and gets ready to go fight Jack. Terezi confronts and accuses her of the murders of all of the dead trolls and Gamzee. After hearing the story, Vriska attempts to tell Terezi the truth about the trolls' deaths, leading to Terezi's x3 facepalm combo. At some point, Terezi flipped her scratched coin, telling Vriska that if it landed on heads Vriska would ST4Y, but if it landed on the scratch she would GO. Terezi was intentionally misleading in her description - we were meant to believe that GOing meant Vriska would go to Bec Noir, but really, ST4Y meant that she would live and GO meant she would die. Both of them were aware of this. After the coin flipped, it landed on scratch - because of Vriska's influence. Terezi prepares to stab Vriska through her turned back, but at first doesn't go through with it.

Vriska's "DEAD" tag.

However, Terezi, using her powers as Seer of Mind, sees the disastrous consequences of letting Vriska live - She would have foiled the troll's hideout to Bec Noir, leading to their death. Terezi proceeds to stab Vriska in the back, and she has a Just death. It is unknown if she is struck with a perma-death due to Slick's interference with Doc Scratch's grandfather clock.

After Death

In the dream bubbles, she meets a John from the timeline he was killed by meeting his denizen early. They date for some time, but the relationship fails and they break up, remaining friends until the alternate John was double killed by Lrd English. She is later wandering through a desert until coming across Andrew Hussie, who proceeds to propose marriage to Vriska; unfortunately for him, she punches him out in disgust.

Gamzee preserves her body until arriving in the post-scratch kids' session, where he prototypes Vriska and Tavros' bodies in Jane's sprite resulting in the birth of Tavrisprite. This fusion is short-lived and Tavrisprite destroys itself because of how the two sides are impossible to reconcile. Vriska and Tavros reappear on the bubbles, where she apologizes for killing Tavros and convinces him to help fuck things up with her.

After hearing legends about an ancient weapon hidden in the Furthest Ring supposedly capable of killing Lrd English, she and Tavros decide to find it. Unfortunately, because the Ring is an infinite void with no fixed points in space, all maps of it are totally black and feature no reference points. This problem is solved when English begins to fracture reality by destroying dream bubbles, causing the cracks to appear on the maps and allowing Vriska and Tavros to continue their hunt. In order to reduce the amount of time spent searching, she plans to get other ghosts to pretend that they are searching for Calliope; English would then attack their dream bubbles and allow Vriska to see more of the map.

At some point, John arrives in their dream bubble and meets her in person for the first time. John dicovers she is dead and they talk of the plans to stop English. The conversation is abruptly ended when Meenah interrupts them to criticize Vriska's idea and throws her trident at John, waking him. Enraged, Vriska challenges Meenah to a duel, with both agreeing that whoever wins will get to use all available troll ghosts for their own anti-Englishplan. Vriska wins the duel, and begins her treasure hunting plan. She travels the furthest ring on a ship along with Tavros, Meenah, Aranea, Aradia, Sollux, Feferi and Nepeta.

Vriska's ship and her crew searching for the ancient weapon.

Before finally finding the treasure, she meets up with John again, who claims having the Ring of Life. However, John is hesitant to give her the ring, now believing that she is dangerous. Most of her crew also depart from the ship before the destination. After finding the treasure, John sticks his hand on it, suddenly teleporting away.

Aranea manages to get the ring and comes back to life, reducing even more the party size. Meenah and Vriska then discuss how they're going to put forth their plan without Aranea, and Vriska reveals that Aranea was controlling most of the ghosts, and without her they don't see how it'll be possible. The two of them decide to ditch the plan altogether and later they begin to pursue a relationship, leading to the most meaningless moment seen of paradox space.

Despite John's retcons creating a new timeline in which Vriska is alive, this version of Vriska still exists. She and Meenah meet the post-retcon version of Vriska at some point during the meteor journey. This version of Vriska, referred to as (Vriska) by this point forward, continues her relationship with Meenah, until Meenah ends the relationship when they cross paths with the alive Vriska yet again and she leaves (Vriska) alone. She later walks around a path of memories with Terezi until she reunites the version of Terezi who died in the aftermath of GAME OVER. They embrace and hold hands as they watch the cracks in paradox space get worse and worse.

New Timeline

John saving Vriska.

In the new retconned timeline, John zaps to the meteor and follows Terezi's most important instruction listed on her scarf, knocking out Vriska before Terezi would kill her. After John leaves, she wakes up in confusion. Because of that, she traveled with the others on the meteor on the three-year trip to the B2 session. Vriska's actions on the timeline are numerous: her simply being alive avoid a lot of guilt and depression that Terezi underwent pre-retcon, preventing her kismesissitude with Gamzee and regrettably getting her eyes healed, and Vriska also puts her foot down to Rose's drinking problem. Vriska and Terezi crack down the code for John's Dad's wallet, the last scarf instruction he did not follow with, and make one to later captchalogue Earth.

She retrieves Aradia's timetravelling gear and on the new session she travels back in time, like Gamzee did in the old timeline, to prototype the kids kernelsprites creating Tavrosprite and a new Arquiusprite. Back in the 'present', as a surprise factor Vriska puts Jade to sleep when she would have confronted the meteor crew and leads a heist to free Jake and Roxy from Derse's prison. Roxy ends accidentally killed by Jane, and so Vriska puts her to sleep. She also gathers information from Dersites about the threats of this session.

Vriska is later seen with everyone else on the victory platform. She participates in some conversations, then explains to everyone the threats to be neutralized and allows everyone to decide who will take on who (except for reserving some people to specific roles). After that, she uses Roxy's Appearifier Rifle to bring Dirk immediately to the victory platform with everyone else, and then she hops through a fenestrated wallto the Furthest Ring by taking the power supply with her and breaking its connection, saying that she will now go confront Lrd English.

Vriska meets her alternate self in the Furthest Ring.

In the Furthest Ring, she runs into her alternate self and Meenah once again, and immediately berates her alternate self, who wonders how her alive self can be so horribly rude. Vriska takes the juju and convinces Meenah to leave with her. She contacts the kids one last time to have Tavrosprite merge with God Cat and puts him to sleep, neutralizing the threat. She and Meenah discuss plans for how to kill English until they run into pre-retcon Tavros, who amassed a massive army of ghosts without any mind powers. Tavros gives her the command as the new leader of the army.

In Collide, Vriska strifes with Andrew Hussie when he says he wants to "kill everyone" and after a short battle defeats him.

In Act 7, Vriska faces Lord English with her army and unleashes the juju, activating a final attack that launches Lrd English into the event horizon of the black hole collapsing Furthest Ring. What becomes of Vriska and the Ghost Army is uncertain, but it's possible that she was ultimately killed in the very same black hole that was used to defeat Lord English once and for all.

Personality and Traits

Pretty much.

Vriska is, more often than not, a huge bitch. She gets easily bored, makes shady deals with people, does horrible things to her 8oring friends, and then slams herself because nobody likes her or - even worse - hates her enough.

Much like her lusus, a massive spider, Vriska often manipulates others, even going as far as paralyzing Tavros, blinding Terezi, and killing Aradia.

Vriska believes that bad things constantly happen to her because she has terrible luck. Kanaya and Doc Scratch suggest that her own behavior is more likely the cause - for example, she constantly steps on d4's only because she leaves them all over the floor instead of tidying up. She also seems to hold some degree of distaste towards her own blood color, mockingly referring to it as envia8le cerulean swill - just another thing for her to blame her problems on. On other occasions, though, Vriska holds herself in high regard - she often brags about her exploits in Flarp, or just about herself in general.

Vriska is something of an apocalypse buff. She loves to make doomsday devices and is even sometimes asked to make them for others. One particular customer - Eridan - is an especially powerful and influential member of the Nautical Aristocracy for whom she promises such a device in exchange for his collusion in her Flarpcampaigns.

While she sees herself as a great manipulator, it seems that she is often manipulated herself, as clearly evidenced in Doc Scratch's final conversation with her. Although she would loathe to admit it, she envies Terezi a great deal because of Terezi's ability to manipulate people without the use of psychic abilities. This could be a possible motivator for Vriska, as she attempts to trick, deceive and backstab nearly every other troll - perhaps as a way to prove herself in Terezi's view or even in her own. When another troll calls her out on using mind powers, she either denies it to the point of absurdity or throws a tantrum.

She was responsible for putting John to sleep before he could prototype one of the Distinguished Houseguests (which was coincidentally a blue doll missing an eye and an arm, similar to herself and Jack). Because of this, she believes herself to be responsible for Jack Noir's fourth prototyping, and thus his attack on the trolls' session, and claims to have intentionally done so as she wants to be the one to kill him. She tries to justify herself by claiming that it had to happen to prevent a doomed timeline. Although since avoiding this event was one of the few possible between-universe travel paradoxes, instead of just a time paradox, it is unclear whether it would have caused a doomed timeline, or something else entirely. According to Karkat and Aradia though, paradox space forces these events to be unavoidable.

Despite all her negative traits, she does have a softer, more benevolent side. She was genuinely upset when her plan to reconcile with Aradia failed, and she also has admitted to John that she felt bad about killing Tavros and that even though her methods were more than questionable she did genuinely try to help him get stronger. Between Tavros and John, she's shown a bit of a habit of trying to train people up the Echeladder. She also mentions to John that one of the reasons she wants to fight Jack Noir is to protect her friends, even getting angry at Jack for killing them after seeing their corpses in a doomed timeline.

After killing Tavros, Vriska admits to John that she feels terrible about it. According to troll culture, she had every right to kill him, and claims she can't tell the other trolls how she feels out of fear of seeming weak. She seems to have always felt bad about ending up as screwed up as she did as a result of troll culture, and laments how much better humans have it. However, this is more remorse towards herself, rather than guilt for any of her other atrocities, most likely because she despises her own existence as a troll, to the point of saying troll society was better off dead. She also willingly admits that there is a good chance she will die if she fights Jack Noir, but considers Jack being stopped far higher priority than her own life.

She seems to have lost some of her faith in having all the luck, but decides she has to go after Jack regardless, seeing her fight will have to mean something, and relying on luck, instead of inner strength and bravery, would be meaningless.

The version of Vriska who died on the meteor became notably more relaxed and passive after her brief prototyping and the betrayal of the dancestor. She ultimately loses a lot of her ambition, instead becoming more willing to appreciate the ones she loves, instead of constantly trying to steal the spotlight. Post-retcon Vriska views her alternate self as an absolute disappointment.

She possesses mind control abilities, allowing her to take control of some characters and making humans sleep/wake up. Tavros, Sollux (half of the time) and Karkat are vulnerable to her powers, and Gamzee was controlled by her dancestor. Aradia, Terezi, and Equius are known to be immune. Animals are also susceptible to her influence when she uses Tavros' psychic powers to control them. Some Incipisphere inhabitants (Prospitians, Dersites, and Consorts) are also vulnerable.

Vriska has vision eightfold - her right eye can "focus" to have some sort of x-ray vision. She is seen using this power channeling her powerful eyesight through her customized red lens to look through her Magic Cue Ball. She is also supposedly able to read minds, but has never successfully demonstrated this ability, aside from a brief reference to mind reading the Consorts of LOSAZ. Aranea has demonstrated the ability to detect emotions, but she lived 3 sweeps longer than Vriska did and may have figured out that skill over that time.

Relationships

Vriska burns bridges with practically every other troll, in particular through Flarp as mentioned above. After John enlightened Vriska regarding the joys of Con Air, she immediately developed a crush on Nicolas Cage. She keeps a marble bust and several of his film posters behind locked doors.

Lusus/Kernelsprite

Vriska's lusus.

Vriska's lusus is a gigantic spider, the second largest lusus of the trolls. The lusus subsists on a diet of young trolls and is always hungry. Vriska uses her Flarp sessions to procure more food for her Lusus. This grim obligation provides a possible explanation for many of Vriska's negative personality traits.

Vriska has hinted that she dislikes her lusus, probably because it requires so much sustenance, which could imply that her basic reason for manipulating so many people is merely to keep up with her lusus's eternal hunger. Were she to not feed her lusus, she would die of starvation, and without one, she would be culled. Later on, she admits to John that this is all true. She and her Lususprite avoided each other throughout most of the game.

Following the failed activation of Vriska's doomsday device, her lusus is unfortunately crushed by rockfall, forcing Vriska to euthanize her with the Guillotine De La Marquise, a dice technique selected at random out of a potential 16,777,216, which is eight to the eighth power.

Tavros Nitram

Vriska claims to hate Tavros for no particular reason she can describe. Acting as his server player in Sgrub, she intentionally builds his hive up with stairs instead of ramps, demanding he find a way up without use of his wheel chair and apologize for being crippled. When he refuses, she shakes him in his wheel chair. Karkat theorizes that she has caliginous feelings for him, but it'd never work out because of Tavros' inability to actually hate people and Vriska's generalized hate towards everything. Indeed, Vriska alternately tries to antagonize and seduce Tavros and fails miserably at both. They eventually seem to come to an understanding of sorts, as Vriska contacts him from the near future and is unusually polite to him. However, their feelings seemed to have regressed when Tavros fails to kill her on her Quest bed while she's dying, and abandons her to a slow and painful death from blood loss. Things only seem to worsen during post-hivebent until finally Tavros attacks Vriska and is killed by her. However it has been seen that the two of them have started up an unconfirmed matespritship after their deaths, Tavros even intending to propose to her. He eventually leaves her, though, due to constant conflicts and still feeling bullied by her, and he flips her off as he flies away from the treasure hunt. Tavros would later return with a renewed ghost army (one he had fromed through the power of friendship, instead of mindcontrol), finally proving his worth and sending Vriska into a shock.

Following the events of the retcon, Vriska prototyped Tavros in a kernalspite and later has him merge with GCat in an effort to passify the dangerous animal, leaving Gcatavrosprite allergic to himself. He seems to be fine in the credits, however.

Terezi Pyrope

Karkat refers to Vriska and Terezi as the "Scourge Sisters," likely referring to their team in Flarp which may have extended to their everyday lives. In the same conversation, Karkat states that Vriska has always been jealous of Terezi for her ability to manipulate others without RESORTING TO CHEEP MIND TRICKS. Vriska sees her former team mate Terezi as her rival, but also tries to stay friends with her. She was shocked when Terezi actually killed her, because she thought she would not be able to go through with it. Despite giving her a cold shoulder ever since the Flarp incident Terezi actually cared for Vriska quite a bit. She feels some regret about killing Vriska, even though she knows it was the right thing to do in order to protect her other friends from death. In fact Vriska's death at her hands is one of the reasons she seems to spiral out of control during the trip on the meteor. Vriska does care for Terezi, seeming horrified and furious when Jack Noir returns to her with the bodies of her and Karkat in the alternate timeline.

In the new timeline created by John's retcons where John saved Vriska before Terezi could kill her, Vriska seems to have spent most of her time with Terezi during the three-year meteor journey. This updateconfirms that they are now moirails.

John Egbert

Vriska is John's patron troll throughout the events of Act 5 Act 2, and the two have a somewhat complicated relationship. Vriska sees Terezi as a rival, and tries to get John to compete with Dave, who is guided by Terezi. This seems to have partially worked, as future Dave implies that future John has become extremely powerful. Vriska's attachment to John may have something to do with his similarities to Tavros, as he and John share the same aspect. Vriska later calls John 'pupa', a nickname she often uses for Tavros. She also says John looks totally hot when he wears Vriska's custom clothes for him. After Tavros' death, and after she tricked John into dying to achieve god tier status. Vriska admits to John that he is special to her, and holds his view of her in higher respect than any of the other trolls, resulting in the 'second most heartfelt feelings-off in paradox space'. It is unclear how deep her feelings for John really are, though she has apparently waxed red for him, asking him on a date and unwittingly expressing jealousy at his imminent kissing of Rose. She also dated an alternate self of John for a while, but things didn't work out. She still considers Alpha John a friend and seems deeply hurt when he considers that bringing her back to life might be a bad idea due to her perceived dangerous nature. John later admits to Roxy that he might actually hate Vriska. However, John appears to have softened his view on Vriska once he prevents her death, and is willing to commend Vriska for her efforts in preparing the group for their final battle, possibly indicating that he has forgiven her, or vented out his frustrations towards her when he knocked her out..

Aradia Megido

Vriska after being beaten by Aradia.

Vriska behaves in a similar manner towards Aradia as she does to Tavros. She is angry that she can't make amends by relaying Equius' Aradiabot gift to her and absolutely pissed at the fact that Aradia holds no ill will towards her and is not even the slightest bit perturbed by her bad behavior - that is, until Aradia receives her robot body with prosthetic emotions, goes to the Land of Maps and Treasure, and brutally beats Vriska. After Aradia reaches godtier and Vriska's death, she and Vriska appear to be on better terms.

Karkat Vantas

The relationship between Vriska and Karkat is one of the oddest among the trolls. While Karkat's initial reactions were to hate her because of her being a vile backstabber, their relationship changed over time. As the two most outspoken trolls among the twelve, the self proclaimed leader and the self proclaimed best fighter, they often talk on equal terms about winning the game, mostly squabbling with each other while enjoying it. Vriska often takes pleasure flirting with Karkat while Karkat continuously insults her much to her joy, and Karkat continuously tries to get a rise out of her while giving her relationship advice and criticisms, causing Vriska to act bored and say stop watching movies for girls, cementing her tomboy personality. Since they both have traits similar to John, it's natural that they drive each other up the wall.

Nepeta Leijon

Her relationship with Nepeta is largely made up of failed attempts at friendship. Vriska enjoys roleplaying with Nepeta, yet since Vriska scares her, she refuses to when she does 'mean things' during roleplay, which makes Vriska unusually sad, possibly because Terezi also does relatively mean or morbid things while roleplaying with Nepeta, yet she still likes it. Nepeta also seems horrified at the thought of Karkat and Vriska becoming matesprits, due to her flushed-crush on Karkat.

Kanaya Maryam

She does appear to hold a degree of affection for Kanaya, one of the few trolls that'll give her the time of day. Vriska regards her as both a meddley meddler meddlefriend and a lousy st8pid godd8mn supportive fri8nd. Kanaya is or was Vriska's moirail, although Kanaya seems to desire something a bit redder and is visually shaken when Vriska attempts to seduce Tavros. In the Veil, she notes that Kanaya had been acting aloof towards her, and expresses a desire to mend their friendship, complaining about how she misses the others fussing over her; however, she is still totally ignorant as to why Kanaya is acting that way towards her. She believes that Kanaya had a crush on Tavros, and helped amputate his legs as vengeance for him "going for" Vriska. It would seem that after Kanaya's return as a rainbow drinker and her subsequent ass-kicking of the 3x Showdown Combo, her redder feelings for Vriska are finally requited Following Vriska's death/prevented death through the retcon, Vriska and Kanaya appear to have put aside any feelings for one another, largely due to Kanaya's relationship with Rose. Vriska admits to being amused by Kanaya's refusal to hide the fact that she is very content with her relationship.

Equius Zahhak

Vriska's behavior seems to be very similar to that of her neighbor Equius. Both have addictions to breaking a specific thing: Vriska's breaks "Black Oracles" (Magic Eight Balls) and Equius destroys bows, which he attempts to use but ends up breaking as a result of his freakish strength. They both comment that the addiction borders on being fetishistic and that addictions are a powerful thing. Not only that, they collaborate on a gift for Aradia, the Soulbot, which they claim to intend to deliver jointly. Both plan on backstabbing each other eventually and presenting the gift as their own. Interestingly, and unlike many of the other trolls, Equius doesn't hold any particular grudge against Vriska and seems to consider her deceptive, violent demeanor to be socially appropriate, even encouraging her to harass their lower-caste friends. Also, he does not appear harbor any ill feelings towards Vriska's murder of his love interest, Aradia, possibly meaning that he is glad that Aradia was killed since it gave him the opportunity to resurrect her with a more noble blood color. Vriska appears to become somewhat infatuated by Equius when he becomes prototyped with Dirk's auto-responder.

Eridan Ampora

Further complicating matters is Vriska's status as Eridan's former kismesis. Unlike Terezi, who (sometimes) had to be tricked into murdering other trolls through deception, Eridan wholeheartedly supported Vriska's reign of terror. Eridan benefited from this arrangement, of course, as he could slaughter the lusus of defeated trolls in order to feed them to Feferi's lusus. He seems to take his kismesissitude with Vriska rather seriously and is anxious about his performance in the role. Conversely, Vriska's feelings on the matter are largely unknown, though it is likely that any feelings she had/has for Eridan are overshadowed by her feelings for Tavros. After the trolls fled into the Veil, Vriska tells Eridan that she no longer has any interest in a black relationship with him.

Meenah Peixes

Prior to the retcon, Vriska and Meenah were initially rivals due to their mutually rambunctious and abrasive personalities. However after dueling it out and likely some pacification from Vriska's dancestor, they quickly become better acquainted, and the two join forces to lure Lrd English through the Furthest Ring and form an army to fight him. After Aranea breaks away from the group in an effort to take over the B2 session, both Vriska and Meenah were left despondent and mortified over their mutual friend's betrayal, losing interest in her. Their relationship improves from there and eventually transitions into a flushed engagement. However Meenah, seeing how this version of Vriska has changed, starts growing bored of her and her own existence as a ghost. When the Vriska born of the new-retcon comes to collect the Ulitmate Weapon, Meenah takes the chance to break it off with the pre-retcon Vriska and follow her elder, alive counterpart in their renewed effort to defeat Lrd English once and for all.

Meenah later shows some interest in the post-retcon Vriska, considering this version's comparatively advanced age as being more respectable. Post-retcon Vriska appears to show similar interest after Meenah does a final speech to inspire the renewed ghost army.

Aranea Serket

Vriska initially had a very positive relationship towards her dancestor, largely due to their shared admiration for Aranea's post-scratch counterpart, Mindfang. The two shared a very sisterly bond and started being influenced by the other's behavior, with Vriska taking a greater interest in storytelling and Aranea becoming more daring and confident. However, their relationship was far from perfect, as Aranea grew frustrated with the teasing she received from Vriska and Meenah, and was thoroughly fed up with being long dead and irrelevant. Once Aranea learned of the Ring of Life, and its mysterious ability to restore life to the dead, she begun hatching a plan to take over the B2 session, use her advanced powers as a Sylph of Light (with help from Jake English's Page of Hope abilities) to turn the altered session into the Alpha session, and prevent Caliborn from ever existing. This plan failed spectacularly and Aranea died to never be seen again. Vriska and Meenah were left despondent after Aranea's betrayal and eventually lose interest in their plans to kill Lord English, largely due to the loss if their most powerful psychic.

Following the retcon, it appears that Vriska never met her dancestor, or at the very least, never formed any significant bond with her.

Jake English

Vriska treats Jake similarly to show she treats Tavros. She is rude towards him, calling him "Joke" or "Jape", often insulting him and comparing him to Tavros. It is of note that Tavros and Jake are both Pages in Sburb. After she successfully gets him to create Gcatavrosprite, she claims him to be a lot smarter than people give [him] credit for, though this is most likely due to him going along with her ideas. Interestingly, Vriska treats Jake similarly to how she treated Jade before she godtiered.

Arquiusprite

Following the events of the retcon, Vriska grows to be very infatuated with Arquiusprite, treating him similarly to how Dave and most other characters regard WV.

Other Characters

She has almost no relationship whatsoever with Sollux, Vriska just greets him with childish taunts. Since she used him to kill Aradia, Sollux wants nothing to do with her.

Similarly, she has almost no relationship with Gamzee although she found it a little cute that Gamzee was scared of her and honest about it.

Her relationship with Feferi seems to be one of a loose kinship. They tease each other and Vriska is actually impressed by her cleverness every so often. It is possible that she calls Feferi awesome because of her upbeat personality despite the fact she had a similar but less unfortunate fate of feeding her lusus.

She has little interest in interacting with Rose, finding her demeanor and sarcasm somewhat off-putting. During the post-retcon meteor trip, Vriska naturally became the leader of the group and was largely responsible for getting Rose to quit drinking. Rose describes Vriska as an incredible bitch but a necessary one.

During the events of the B1 session, Vriska viewed Jade as useless and a liability to her group, treating her similarly to how Karkat did. Jade was a constant victim of Vriska's mental abilities with Vriska being largely responsibly for Jade's apparent narcolepsy. She compared Jade to Tavros: unintelligent and aggravatingly passive. However, Vriska does admit that Jade's refusal of Tavros' advances was admirable. Vriska's view on Jade becomes more neutral after the three year trip, instead starting to view her as a threat due to the combination of Jade's first guardian abilities and mental vulnerability to the Condesce's mind control abilities.

Trivia

Pardon the esoteric tangent. It's hard to

resist prattling on about matters like this.

While trivia sections are fine, it might be a good idea to merge some of this material into relevant sections of the main text, because this trivia section is bloated.

In particular:

The trivia should be divided; one part concerning about allusions in her god tier; etc.

Her action of blinding Terezi fits with her role as a literal Thief of Light .

Her role as a Thief may be an ironic reference to the Eighth Commandment, which is "Thou shalt not steal".

According to Chinese culture, wearing red shoes is said to bring good luck. This may tie with Vriska's love for red footwear and her role as one who "steals" luck.

Some of Vriska's theme songs have names based on the Chrysanthemum flower, which is the representative flower for Scorpio, her zodiac sign.

Vriska having blue blood may be an allusion to spiders and scorpions, which have blue "blood", or Hemolymph.

Vriska's injuries equate to precisely half of what she caused to other players: losing one eye (to Terezi's two), one limb (to Tavros's two) and dying in the old timeline (to Aradia and Tavros' deaths).

The pattern on Vriska's god tier wings mirrors her eyes, with one having one large dot and the other having seven smaller ones.

Both Tavros and John, whom Vriska seemed to have had flushed feelings for, were Heroes of Breath. Oxygen (relating to Breath) is the 8th element, with 8 protons, 8 neutrons, and 8 electrons.

Vriska is depicted on "XVI: The Tower" as well on the "King of Swords" (with the rest of the red team) card in the Homestuck tarot deck. She is featured on the "Eight of Swords" card as well, and is also on the "Five of Wands" card with most of the pre-act six cast.

Vriska's exile, Snowman, uses a lance - the same weapon Tavros Nitram uses. Inversely, Hearts Boxcars, Tavros' exile, uses dice, Vriska's weapon of choice.

Even though she considers Union Jack as a threat, Vriska enabled his ascension by not preventing it with time travel.

As featured and introduced here, Vriska has an Instagram account

In addition to this, 8 is a lucky number in Chinese culture, relating to prosperity and wealth, fitting in with Vriska's great fortune.

The Chrysanthemum flower is also the national flower of Japan, which is also known as the Land of the Rising Sun, tying in with her Light aspect.

Vriska's eightfold eye is shaped like an asterisk, which is located on the 8 key of a keyboard. Also, "asterisk" contains 8 letters.

Her appearance on the Tower, a card that can be interpreted as a moment in which everything changes, references the multiple diverging timelines caused by her mortality.

This proves to be crucial to the main timeline, however, as his defeat brought Caliborn's denizen and Gamzee to future Earth.

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