#fen i owe you my life

[strangerhands]

FENNNNKSHSJQAGKAVWHVSAJBSMANDWNHSJJDBWOHAJSNDVAKCHXSBJDNWMDBSOHHHHHHHHHHHHMYGODDDDDDOHMYGODDDDOHHHHHHHMYYYYGODDDDDDDDDDD FENNNNNNN IM GOING INSANEEEEEEEE JUST AT THE IDEA OF THISSSSSS RAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH WRITHING AROUND ON MY DAMN BEDDDDDDDDDD AUGH FUCKOHMYGOD

istfg... this was Genuinely me x1000000000 upon seeing this post->

and fen.. i hope you start feeling better about things soon, and i wish you could see how amazing your work truly is, and how happy it makes so many people <333

“You’re still waiting for that someone special.” You nod solemnly as you tease. <-LMAO😭

You smile cheekily. "You watch?"

He avoids your gaze. "Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Almost all the time."

"Almost?"

"99.9%."

"What's wrong with the .0?" You say, pretend indignation in your voice.

"I'm sleeping." <-😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“Alright, driving. So, we’re in the car, you're driving.”

“I’m on the wrong side.” <-😭😭😭😭

hhhhhhhhhooolyyyyyyyy shittttttttt im gonna pass out.

Even without seeing his face you know that deep blush is back, the one that spreads across his skin like ink and makes you lightheaded from desperation for him. <-YES🫠🫠🫠

He sucks in a breath, shivering and muffling his moans against you, his fingers tightening on your side as if you’ll move away. As if you would ever want to leave him like this, aching and needy. <-RNSMDNSNSWKVSQJDGAKSJRSKHAGSAJJFMJR

You dip your hand lower, massaging his balls again and the little sound Jake lets out is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. <-GRRRWGAHGAAJSBAJSVJDSJABAKSJAJSMJSHSA

he shoves his middle and forefinger into his mouth and groans at the taste of your arousal.

He moans loudly, his chest vibrating with the sound.

"Amor," his voice is thick, on the verge of breaking, "fuck you taste-" he gasps as you sink lower, your own sounds of pleasure echoing along his cock.

He bites back a sob. "Taking such good care of me, you taste so sweet," he sucks on his fingers, desperately trying to find every single trace of your slink that he can. <-HOLYFUCKINGSHIT

He moans at your tone, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, please,” he rubs your thighs, kneading his fingers into your skin as his own hips rock and buck against nothing but the air.

His cock is red, leaking and almost painful looking with how hard he is. It bobs up and down with every movement, almost pleading with you to take pity. <-AAAARRRRRGHGGHHHHHHHHGHGHGGGHGNNGMGBDNFBSJSHSKDDBKA

“Please come and fuck yourself on my cock.” <-OHMYFUCKINGGGGGGGGHHGHHHGHGHGHGGGH

AUGH JAKE JUST BEING SO SOFT AND SWEET AND SENSITIVE AND NEEDY AND DESPERATE AND SHY AND NERVOUS AND HIM BEGGING AND WHINING AND WHIMPERING AND DESIRING AND WANTING TO PLEASE YOU AND LEARN FROM YOU AND HOLD OUT FOR YOU AND HIM JUST BEING SO GOOD GOD WJDVKHSKDVWJSVAIJSVWKSJJSDHWWJSNAOHDKWJSNQKDNEKQHSJSVJFNDINFKFNRODHSNDBEJAHSKDBWKBDKDFJDKSJFMGODKSKAHSKSHAKJSMDFICKDMKDJDMDJDHDWKHAKDBSKSQNKABRMDIFNWJDHKSBDKWNSMSNICFNDMDFUCKKKKKKK

FENNNNNN. FENNNNNNNNNNNN. FENNNNNNNN. OHMYDHFIFIEKAHSJSBKDSBHSQJHAWKDBDNFH THIS WAS SO SO INCREDIBLE AND HOT IM GOING INSANE IM SO FERAL IM GONNA DIE IM DYING IM DEAD IVE DIED IVE PASSED AWAY YOUVE KILLED ME AND IM THANKING YOU PROFUSELY FOR IT FEN SNSJEKABDHWKDHAIDHSGSIWHSKQSJSIWUJEJSNWJSHWJBSSJHDNSJSHDJW IM GONNA SCREAM (AND CREAM) ABOUT THIS FOR THE REST OF TIME ARE YOU JOKING… I AM GOING TO REREAD THIS A BILLION FUCKING TIMES I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT AND HIM AND YOU AND OHMYFUCKINGGODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

the way you write and describe and characterize is just an absolute fuckin beautiful sweet hot treat everytime. its always such a huge pleasure to see and experience. thank you thank you thank you thank you thankyou fen

ps. i literally logged into the browser just so i could put more than ten pictures. i needed to. it had to be done. it was a necessity. necessary.

Play Pretend

Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Jake doesn't have much experience in more... intimate matters.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Okay, so I'm not super happy with this. I don't know. Anyway, I feel like I'm always saying this but my head is really bad with editing atm. I'm sure I've missed so many typos. I'm so sorry.

Warnings: set in Steven's flat (UK), swearing, loss of virginity, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), overuse of italics, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4909

Jake shifted a little nervously as he rested his head on your chest, despite the comforting weight of your arm around him. 

He was half laying on you as you were sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the armrest as you both watched… something on TV. You watched, Jake just couldn’t focus. Even though he normally adored being snuggled up on the settee next to you, savoured any time you both had together. 

He moved again, trying to keep it as minimal as possible so as to not bother you. Slowly he tensed and untensed his legs, switching it so that one was over the other and then back around again.

There was a deep heat growing at the base of his spine, an ache between his legs. He swallowed. Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom, rub one out quickly and then come back to your embrace without getting hard like a horny teenager just because you were close. 

It was embarrassingly really. How often this happened. Sometimes you didn’t even have to physically be around, just smelling your scent lingering around the flat was enough at times. The feel of your jumper in the wardrobe when it brushed against his hand as he got dressed in the morning. The photo of you and Marc at the park on the side table. That time Steven accidentally used your shower gel instead of his own. 

He shifted again. Maybe he could-

“You okay?” 

He jumps despite the softness of your voice and turns his head quickly to look at you, a little wide-eyed. “Yeah?” He answers a fraction too quickly to be considered ‘okay’. 

You give him a bemused smile. “You sure?” 

“Hmmhmm.” 

For a moment you pause, just cocking your head to the side ever so slightly as you regard him and Jack as to practically bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from groaning out loud. Why, oh why, did you have to look so adorable when you did that? 

“You need to sneak off to the bathroom?” You ask innocently, but there’s a telltale mischief to your eyes that makes Jake’s blood run cold. 

“I, erm, what are you talking about amor?” 

You gesture with your chin to his not-so-subtle budge in Steven’s sweatpants. 

“A…” He shifts again, thinking about grabbing a pillow to place over himself for a second before realising how silly that would be. You already knew what he was hoping to hide. “Maybe.” 

You smile and kiss his cheek. “That’s okay, you can go. I’m not gonna judge you. You know I don’t want you to sit here and be all uncomfortable.” 

“Hmm.” He gives you a small smile, a light dusting of pink highlighting his cheeks and the very top of his ears. “Sorry.” 

You frown a little and speak kindly. “What are you sorry for, silly?” You lightly stroke the shell of his right ear as you talk, just brushing your fingers along the outside and tucking a few errand curls behind it. 

He shivers. You know what you’re doing. 

“For…” He gestures to his crotch and you giggle. 

“I could…” You bite your lip a little a you speak and Jake pinches his thigh to keep control of himself. “Help you out with it? If you want?” There’s a little nervousness to your words, a worry of overstepping a boundary. 

While you had been physical with Marc and Steven for a while now, the most you had done with Jake had been to kiss and hold hands. Not that you minded. Jake was his own person and you wanted to go at his pace, take your time with the more intimate side of things. Or, never have that kind of relationship with him at all. You were just happy to spend time with him. 

He didn’t really like talking about that side of your relationship, and you didn’t want to push him. 

Jake’s blush grew darker. “I… erm…”

You resisted the urge to gently tease him about his loss for words. 

“I…” He closed his eyes, blurting out his words and screwing his face up afterwards. “I’m a virgin.” 

“Oh.” You said in surprise. That certainly wasn’t what you expected him to say. 

He opened his eyes quickly, a tense look of fear pinching at his features and you quickly realised your mistake. 

“No,” you say quickly as you reach out and stroke his hands, embracing them in your warmth. “I mean ‘oh’ as in, ‘oh, I didn’t think you were gonna say that’, not ‘oh, that’s a problem’.” 

The tension in his shoulders viably relaxed slightly and he gave you a weak smile. Looking down briefly at your hands and stroking your knuckles with his fingers. 

“So… you’ve never done anything… sexual before?” 

Your own tiptoeing around the word makes you wince. 

“Just sort of kissing, I guess.” He looks up to you with his large, soft eyes. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “no at all just… yeah, surprising.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Well,” you nudge him playfully with your shoulder, “I don’t know if you know this, but you are very pretty.” 

Jake snorts, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told.”

You smile back at him before softly brushing his hair behind his ear again, savouring his little hiver. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right? There’s never any pressure, I want you to know that. I’m more than happy just to be with you like this. I love you, it doesn’t have to be physical.” 

He nuzzles into your hand, kissing your wrist. “I know,” he whispers, “and thank you, for saying it out loud I mean.” 

You stroke his cheek as he talks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… and I know you’ve technically been with the body before, it’s just that…”  

You stay quiet as you caress his face, letting him take his time. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

As the last words leave his lips a little crack forms in your heart.

“You could never disappoint me, Jake.” 

He smiles but tuts. “You know what I mean… inexperienced isn’t exactly code for ‘giving their partner’s good time’, right?” 

“I’ll have a good time no matter what because I’m with you.” You give him a soft kiss and he smiles.

“That’s not what I mean Amor,” but he kisses you again. “Thank you though, it’s just…” he pauses, thinking carefully on how best to explain himself. Out of the three of them Jake is always the one who thinks most about what they say before they say it. “It’s just, I didn’t want to just… be with someone for the sake of it, I wanted it to be with… someone special, someone I care about. And now…”

“You’re still waiting for that someone special.” You nod solemnly as you tease. 

Jake glares at you playfully, ticking your side until you giggle and hold up your hands. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter between laughter. 

“You should be.” He leans close and lightly nips at your neck. “Be thankful that I’m in a forgiving mood.” 

You grin and kiss his nose. 

“You are my someone special,” he continues sincerely, “and I want it to be enjoyable for you, I want you to…” he trails off and looks down for a second. You can see that hint of a blush returning. 

“You want me to…?”

He bites his lip and swallows. “I want you to look and sound like you do with Marc and Steven.”

You smile cheekily. “You watch?” 

He avoids your gaze. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” 

“Almost all the time.” 

“Almost?” 

“99.9%.”

“What’s wrong with the .0?” You say, pretend indignation in your voice. 

“I’m sleeping.” 

His matter of fact tone takes you by surprise and you laugh loudly. 

“Fair enough.” You stroke his cheek again. 

“You don’t mind?” 

You shake your head. “Marc might. Maybe.” You shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m definitely not doing that.” 

“Steven won’t care.” 

Jake nods. “That’s true. Exhibitionist that one, for certain.” 

You laugh again and then pause as both of you look at each other for a long moment. 

“Why don’t we play pretend for a bit? Help you relax and get out of your head?” You ask.

He thinks for a moment before he opens his mouth, a smirk on his lips. “I think it’s called ‘role play’ amor.” 

You tut.

“All I’m saying is I shouldn’t be the one who knows more in this situation-” Jake yelps as you cut him off by tickling him this time. He jumps back from your reach and grins. “Unfair.” 

You poke your tongue out at him. 

Which he promptly returns before he smiles. “Alright, let's play pretend’.”  He sits up straight on the sofa, his hands neatly in his lap as he waits for your direction. 

You give him a brief suspicious look, Jake was never usually one to agree and behave without having some ulterior motive. 

“Alright,” you say a little suspiciously as you settle down next to him. “You can stop this at any point you want, okay?” 

Jake nods once. 

“Okay, so,” you give him a little glance and see he’s listening intently. “I’m thinking, ‘where’s Jake the most comfortable?’”

“In bed.” He interrupts cheekily. 

You snort. “No. I was going to say, driving.”

“Driving’s not very comfortable.”

“Jake-”

“Not here anyway, roads are tiny.”

“Jake-”

“And everyone’s an asshole.”

“Okay, that’s true.”

He grins. 

“But, humour me, yeah?” 

He nods. “Consider yourself humoured.” 

“Alright, driving. So, we’re in the car, you're driving.”

“I’m on the wrong side.”

“Jake.”

“I’m on your left.”

“Well, we’re in America now.” 

“How did we get here?”

“Jake.”

“Did we fly?” 

“Jake.” 

“Marc’s gonna be pissed if we don’t get some pizza, I can tell you that-”

You shut him up by kissing him deeply. While it may not always be the most convenient method of silencing him, it certainly is the most effective. 

He kisses you back desperately, sinking into your embrace and bringing up his hand to lightly caress your cheek as you lick into his mouth. 

You know why he’s talking so much. The action so unlike Jake. He’s nervous. 

He moans softly as you pull back a fraction, trying to follow your lips. 

“I should really be keeping my eyes on the road.” He teases, his voice low and wrecked. 

“Well, it’s a good job we’re on the settee then, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer and pressing your lips back to his. 

You swallow down his softly whimpered moans and trail your hand down his chest. You keep the action slow, deliberate. So he has plenty of time to feel where you're headed, and to stop you if he wants. 

You lightly palm his erection through his jogging bottoms and he hisses in a breath, his hips bucking up towards your touch as he keeps kissing you. 

His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer as he trails his lips down to your jaw, pressing soft kisses along the bone before slipping further down to your neck. 

You press a little harder, running your hand up and down his clothed length and massaging his heavy balls. His cock twitches under your actions, warm and throbbing. 

Jake hisses in a breath, “please.” His voice is so quiet you almost can’t hear him, can distinguish his words from moans as he presses his lips to your skin and sucks lightly. 

You tangle your free hand in his hair, pulling lightly at the curls to make him whine as you hook your fingers under his waistband and pull his trousers down. 

Jake groans, squirming a little and lifting his hips quickly, grabbing hold of the material and yanking his boxers and jogging bottoms down to his knees, keeping his mouth at your neck the whole time. 

The heat coming off his skin almost burns. Even without seeing his face you know that deep blush is back, the one that spreads across his skin like ink and makes you lightheaded from desperation for him. 

Languidly you run the tip of your finger down his length, savouring the way his cock jumps and twitches under your attention. The head is ruddy and swollen, a bead of forming precum seeping out from the slit that begs you to swipe it away with your tongue. 

You wrap your fingers around his girth, a not quite firm enough grip, and pump him twice in long, slow movements.

He sucks in a breath, shivering and muffling his moans against you, his fingers tightening on your side as if you’ll move away. As if you would ever want to leave him like this, aching and needy. 

You dip your hand lower, massaging his balls again and the little sound Jake lets out is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Fuck,” you breathe and quickly pull away from his hold. 

Jake makes a small sound of distress for a moment, thinking you’re stopping, before he realises what you’re doing. 

You lean down, taking hold of his cock and pumping him slowly as you lick along his tip with the flat of your tongue.

Jake groans, throwing his head back against the sofa and balling his hands into fists at his sides. 

You repeat the action again, and again. Lapping at his slit and spreading his precum across your tongue. 

He gasps, his thigh muscles twitching as he fights to keep still and not buck up into your mouth. 

“This okay?” You ask between licks. 

“Yes, ah,  yes, really okay.” He whimpers, squirming a little and biting his lip. “Please don’t stop.” 

“I won’t.” You whisper and lightly suck at his head, moaning as he slips into your mouth, and swirling your tongue around him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” his hips buck up a fraction before he catches himself and forces them back down against the cushions. “Sorry,” his words are muffled as he grits his jaw, bites his lip and tries to not completely lose it after barely thirty seconds. 

You hum, pressing your tongue flat against him and let yourself slide further down, swallowing and sucking on his greedily. 

“Oh, shi-” he catches himself, fighting every instinct to give in and chase his pleasure. He bites his bottom lip hard, drowning in pleasure and not even trying to come up for air. 

His sighs and pants echo around the flat as you move faster, sink lower, until he hits the back of your throat. 

He gasps loudly, a string of swears thumping out of his throat in a rush. 

Then suddenly, his hands are on your jaw, lightly lifting you back up and off him. “Stop, stop, stop,” he rushes the words together and you move back quickly. 

Your mouth is barely off him before he’s pulling you into a searing embrace, his tongue dancing with your own and licking his precum from your lips. 

“You, you,” he mutters, one hand pulling at your jeans and undoing the button. “You, need you,” you’re not sure if he even realises he’s speaking, his thoughts bypassing any check system and coming straight out of his mouth. 

He pushes you back against the sofa and you let him, let his strong, warm hands guide you and push your jeans and underwear down your thighs just enough so that he can touch you. 

He sighs loudly as he strokes between your legs, the sound almost as if you were the one touching him and not the other way around. 

You moan his name, pulling at his shoulders.

“Show me, show me,” he mutters into your mouth, “please.” 

You grab hold of his hand, pressing his thumb against your clit and showing him the soft circles you like. He follows your directions eagerly, his large dark eyes mesmerised as he watches. 

When you press his fore and middle finger towards your slick entrance he moans again, gently pushing inside and shivering. 

“You’re really wet.” He mutters, trying to control his breathing. Slowly he pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in, revelling in the sound your arousal makes. “Is that,” he repeats the action, his eyes flicking up to your face, “is that okay? Feel okay?” 

You nod, keeping a gentle hold on his forearm. “Just, fuck, thumb’s great, just, sort of curl your fingers a little bit and-” Your sharp moan cuts over whatever you were going to say next as pleasure runs up your spine like lightning. 

“Like that?” He whispers, his voice thick and heavy, his pupils blown wide.

You nod desperately, rolling your hips to chase the sensation of his fingers. “Like that.” 

He groans a little, pressing closer so he can lightly kiss your neck, alternating between sucking at your skin and looking up to watch your face in a blissed out rapture. 

“What made you so wet, hmm?” He mutters into your ear, rocking his hips against you so that his painfully hard cock rubs against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as the tips of his fingers brush perfectly inside. 

“Hmm?” He asks needily, practically begging, as if he hasn’t got you at his mercy. 

“You.” You manage to stammer out.

“Me?” 

“You.” 

“You like sucking my cock that much?” He groans, having to pinch his side with his free hand to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head. 

You nod desperately, bucking up into his hand as you chase your orgasm. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine and Jake growls. 

He watches you for a few more seconds, trying to keep hitting that spot that makes you mewl under him.

Suddenly, he stops, pulling back his hand and you practically sob, tugging lightly on his wrist to try to keep him inside of you. 

“Jake,” a deep down part of you wishes you didn’t sound quite so needy, but most of you doesn’t care in the slightest.  

“Put your mouth on me again please,” he mutters, his voice rushed and breathless as he urges you down towards his cock with his hand on your upper back. 

You nod, moving quickly to lick a long stripe up the length of him that has him moaning like a whore. 

You take him back into your mouth quickly, sucking him as deep as you can and further still. Jake’s whimpers spurring you on. 

He keeps one hand on your back, nearly at the base of your neck, pressing down ever so slightly to guide your tempo. While he shoves his middle and forefinger into his mouth and groans at the taste of your arousal. 

He moans loudly, his chest vibrating with the sound. “Amor,” his voice is thick, on the verge of breaking, “fuck you taste-” he gasps as you sink lower, your own sounds of pleasure echoing along his cock. 

He bites back a sob. “Taking such good care of me, you taste so sweet,” he sucks on his fingers, desperately trying to find every single trace of your slink that he can. The wet sounds cut over your own, somehow louder in your ears than your racing heartbeat and your mouth around his hot, thick cock.

Jake’s eyebrows pinch together as the ball of pleasure starts to tighten uncontrollably in the base of his stomach, pushing him higher and higher and so close to tumbling off the edge. 

“Amor,” he whines, biting his lip and gently pulling you off his throbbing cock for the second time. 

A thin trail of salvia connects you for a brief moment. You pout a little at being coaxed away from him again, Jake savours your expression for a heartbeat before kissing your swollen lips once, twice. His hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth and squirms in his seat. 

He breaks the kiss briefly to tug off his own trousers, reconnects your lips with a groan and tries to get your jeans off without moving away again. 

You chuckle lightly at his impatient scoff when it doesn’t quite go to plan. He scowls at your clothing, as if it was purposefully being difficult. Swearing lightly under his breath before looking down and tugging them off. You pull your top off at the same time, burning with need. Desperate to feel his skin against yours so keenly that it is almost to the point of pain. 

“Lay back please,” he mutters as he tugs your legs free and clambers between your thighs. His hands dig in just enough to send a shiver along your nerves, twisting deeply at your core. His stubble grazing over your skin as he places sloppy kisses on your inner knee, trailing upwards and nipping lightly. 

He moves hastily, forgoing any pretence of being able to hold himself together as he gazes at your aching pussy. He darts out his tongue, licking one long swipe through your folds and up to your clit, closing his eyes and moaning at the taste wantonly. 

“Fuck, Jake, I-”

He plunges two fingers back inside you, curling them exactly how you instructed and you all but scream. Your breath stolen from you as he flicks his tongue against your clit, circling one way and then the other before latching on and sucking it into his mouth, trying to follow directions from hazy encounters he watched quietly in the headspace. 

When you grab hold of his hair, your hips arching up into his mouth he groans, opening his eyes so that he can see the look of pleasure on your face. How you contort under his touch. 

He sobs, rutting needily against the sofa, the expression on your face almost too much to bear. 

You buck against him unthinkingly, your body taking over as you need to chase your high. His name falls from your lips in whimpered gasps, separated only but pleas and muttered praises. 

You guide the back of his head, encouraging him to lap at you in time with your hips and he follows your directions instantly, pressing closer and moaning against you so much that the sensation nearly has you screaming.

Your thighs shake as you bite your lips together, muscles tensing and waves of pleasure begin to build and build and build, threatening to drag you down over the edge in one fell sweep and-

Jake pulls back quickly, the bottom half of his face shining with his slavia and your slick. You groan in frustration as he moves, but let go of him so as to not pull at his hair. 

“Jake,” you say, a spike of irritation weaving through your words. 

He moans at your tone, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, please,” he rubs your thighs, kneading his fingers into your skin as his own hips rock and buck against nothing but the air. 

His cock is red, leaking and almost painful looking with how hard he is. It bobs up and down with every movement, almost pleading with you to take pity. 

“Please what?” You whisper. 

Jake shuffles back into a sitting position, both feet flat on the floor. He looks at you a little uncertainly for a split second before he pushes the emotion down. “Please come and fuck yourself on my cock.” He says quietly, as if he was truly asking you for a favour and not letting you have everything you want.

You all but jump into his lap, pulling off the rest of your clothing and kissing him hard. He moans against your lips, following every movement desperately as he places his hands gently on your hips. 

With the last fragment of your rapidly disintegrating self-control, you manage to pull away from him just far enough to speak. “You sure?” 

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, too drunk on your touch for your words to make sense. He moves forward, trying to kiss you again. But you hold him back a little, pressing your hands against his cheeks softly but firmly until his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows pinched in puzzlement. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you, we can-”

“Please.” He practically sobs. The break in his voice at the end of the word rings so loudly in the room that you're surprised it doesn’t echo. You’ve never heard him so needy before. 

“Please,” he repeats, “I want to, I want you. If… if you’ll have me, if you-”

You cut off any self-destructive thought that was destined to fall out of his mouth with your lips on his. 

“If I’ll fucking have you,” you mutter against him, raising up on your knees and taking him in your hand. You line him up with your entrance before you sink slowly down. 

Jake gasps, grabbing hold of you and squeezing you tight. His face pressed into your chest as you hold his shoulder, kiss his temple as you ease him inside. 

He bites his lip, trying and failing to hold back a whimper, but succeeding in keeping his hips still. 

You gently turn his face towards you by his chin as you bottom out, kissing his plump lips once, twice before you speak. “You okay?” 

He nods, completely lost in the feel of you squeezing around him. “I’m not gonna last.” 

“That’s okay,” you smile sweetly, stroking his hair.

But Jake shakes his head. “It’s not, I want you to-”

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, “I’m having a good time, okay?” You smile and gently take one of his hands and guide it between your legs to your clit. “Here, remember what I showed you?”

He nods, looking up at you like you painted the sky and quickly begins those soft circles that have you clenching around him and moaning softly. 

He lets out a choked sob. “Can feel you.” He mutters. “Feel you… squeezing, and fuck, so warm, and wet, and tight and-” he swallows his words, groaning loudly, his eyes closing as you start to slowly move, using his shoulders for leverage. 

His fingers don’t falter though. 

The stretch of him is so good it burns, pressing hard and deep inside and threatening to crack you open at any given second. 

You keep your movements steady, rising up and sinking back down, watching his every expression intently. The bob of his throat. The lines of concentration on his forehead.

His thighs shake, his lip so tightly between his teeth that it’s losing colour. 

“You want me to go faster?” You whisper and he grounds, nodding rapidly. 

You can’t help but smile as warmth runs along your veins. How much he trusts you to take care of him, how hard he’s trying to stay still. 

You kiss him hard, forcing him to stop biting his lip and let out the sweet sounds he’s been trying to hamper. He takes hold of your face with his free hand, caressing your cheek as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 

You pick up your pace, truly riding him and he moans. 

“Amor…”

“Move with me.” You mutter, rolling your hips and encouraging him to buck up and do the same. 

He whines, but nods, kissing you deeping as he fucks up into you as you set a brutal pace. 

The slide of his thick cock makes your spine bend, your body moving on autopilot as you chase your high. Your breath catches in your throat as he hits deep. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, digging into his sweat soaked skin. 

Jake's eyes snap open, watching you intently and angling his hips to try to hit that spot again. 

“Please, please, please,” he mumbles with every thrust, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing that he’s desperate for it. 

You tense, your muscles clenching as bliss begins to burn at the edge of your vision. “Jake, Jake, fuck.”

“Yes, please, please,” he moans, obsessed with how your lips part, your eyes shut as you get close, “please.” His thumb swirls messily over your clit, slick with sweat and your wetness, he pushes you closer.

The slap of skin is nearly as long as both of your moans as you bounce relentlessly on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. 

Stars begin to swell behind his eyes, pleasure spiralling in the base of his spine. “I can’t, I’m gonna- please!”

It’s a sobbed beg that pushes you over the edge. How desperate he is for you. How needy. How shamelessly open with what he wants. 

You swear as pleasure crackles over your skin, burns through your veins as you come. Jake groans loudly, following you a fraction of a second later and gasping as you squeeze his cock, milking him for every last drop he has to spend. 

He buries himself deep, pressing his face into your chest. For a second he’s weighty, floating somewhere high above everything, somewhere warm and safe. 

And then your hands stroke his arms, your lips kiss his sweaty forehead, and he can feel you, your warmth, your everything holding him tight and keeping him safe. 

“You okay?” You stroke his hair softly and smile when he looks up at you. 

He nods and grins, pressing his lips to yours in a long, soft kiss. “I think I like play pretend amor.” 

You snort. “Oh, do you?” 

“Hmm, we’ll have to do it again.” 

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @pimosworld @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @dumdaradumdaradum @plastichearts @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @spxctorsslxt

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

hi! just saw your recent fenrys post and was inspired! i was wondering if you’d be willing to do another fenrys x reader with the prompt “i was so worried. it was killing me not being able to reach out and touch you.” ? where maybe they met a few years before the war and ended up finding out they were mates but agreed to keep distance to keep each other safe? and the readers part of aelins crew and they reunite?

Little light

To the furthest parts of himself, Fenrys had to push you. Dimming all the memories you two shared. All the love he felt. Sniffing out the smallest of embers of your bond. He won’t lose you. Won’t hold your dead body. Won’t let you meet the end Rowan's mate had met. You were no one to him. You meant nothing. He didn’t think of you. He didn’t breathe for you.

While this couldn’t be further away from the truth. It felt as if someone was burning him alive. Ripping him to pieces. There were moments when he would stop, bending over as he growled in agony. “Be okay”, he would mutter under his breath, “Please be okay, my little light”. Pulling himself back up as he slowly bled inside. Slowly became a shell of himself.

When the war broke out all Fenrys wanted was to go find you instead of joining his brothers on the battlefield. That inner battle he faced seemed never-ending. He knew that he owed it to his cadre, to be there, to support them, to fight alongside them, but his heart was finally free to go to you. “I want to hold it against you”, Rowan had stated one night, “now that you told me, I can ask you to stay”. It was the side of Rowan with Aelin's thar had sent the floodgates open that had made Fenrys finally admit that he wasn’t a young and wild boy still chasing his dreams. He was a mated man. He was with someone, not just a lonely soul, still searching for its purpose. “Let’s have that meeting first”, Fenrys clapped Rowen on the shoulder, “Then I will make my choice”.

The truth was that he felt guilty, about bringing the war to your doorstep. So part of him screamed to fight, to kill every single leach, and then return to you. Because you deserved calmness, you deserved a safe world and Fenrys wanted to give that to you.

It’s the scent that flooded him even before the wooden door creaked open. As if someone had pushed his head underwater, as the last seven minutes of his life flashed in front of his eyes. In walked Aelin and then… “No”, Fenrys breathed, “No”. Your eyes snapped to him as a gasp filled your lungs. “Fen…”, you muttered. “My light”, he crocked out, killing the distance between you two in a couple of steps. Eager hands searched all over your body. As if you weren’t here. As if you were a blip of his imagination.

“My wolf”, you choked out, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed into him. “You’re here… you’re here”, he cried quietly, wrapping his arms around you. He let go now. Tearing through the walls he had built. Reaching out to you through his heart. Trying to fight for that desperate fluttering thread.

“I was so worried”, he breathed, cupping your face in his hands, “it was killing me not being able to reach out and touch you”. You smiled up at him through your teary eyes, “I was looking for you ever since you left”, you admitted, leaning your forehead against his. “You found me, my light”, he muttered, “Mother herself brought you back to me”.

[willtheweaver]

OC questionaire tag

Thanks for the tag @thatuselesshuman @somethingclevermahogony @elizaellwrites

My questions are:

1. What would you do to reach your goal?

2. Are you the kind of person that holds grudges?

3. What was your favorite school subject?

4. What would you say is your greatest weakness?

5. Who is someone in your life that you like but you don’t trust?

6. If you could magically learn any mundane skill right now (cooking, a particular dance, a language, singing, sewing, etc.) what would it be?

7. Where and how did you learn most of your skills?

8. Who has had the greatest impact on you? How?

9. Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Why?

Let’s hear from Fen for this one:

1. What would you do to reach your goal?

Fen: Hard work. I do not believe in cutting corners or cheating. If I’m going to reach the top, let it be by my own work.

2. Are you the kind of person who holds grudges?

Fen: No. That isn’t me.

3. What was your favorite school subject?

Fen: Wait, you’re telling me that there are those who do nothing but educate, and that youngsters do nothing but learn in their early years? What an interesting concept.

4. What would you say is your greatest weakness?

Fen: My greatest weakness? Well, I am not the best socially, and according to Playa and Ivy, I sometimes rush into things (‘reckless’ has been tossed around once or twice).

5. Who is someone in your life that you like, but don’t trust?

Fen: Hmmmmm… I wouldn’t say that I don’t trust anyone. Everyone in my life I trust to some degree or another.

6. If you could magically learn any mundane skill right now (cooking, a particular dance, a language, singing, sewing, etc.) what would it be?

Fen: Well, I would really like to instantaneously learn how to smith. I know this sounds a little strange coming from someone who wants to be a hunter, but making and repairing my own metalworking would be quite useful.

7. Where and how did you learn most of your skills?

Fen: I had to learn on my own, observing others, and through trial and error.

8. Who has had the greatest impact on you? How and why?

Fen: That would be my mother. I owed her so much, from finding me in the ruined camp, to raising me for my first three years. She instilled so much and gave me reason and purpose…I wish she was still here.

9. Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Why?

Fen: I do my best to look on the bright side. Being gloomy all the time does not do anyone any good.

Tagging @winglesswriter @ominous-feychild @fortunatetragedy @riveriafalll @literarynecromancy

@late-to-the-fandom @bloodmoonloveletter @darkandstormydolls @sableglass @moltenwrites

@sleepy-night-child @theeccentricraven and open tag

Your questions are:

1. Do you get scared easily?

2. Is it better to be feared or loved?

3. What are your favorite and least favorite things about long-distance travel?

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Grant had had a shitty day so far. He used to do everything that Fen told him. He used to think he was lucky to find Fen's gang. He used to worship Fen and even had a crush on him. That was until he met Remus. Grant had never dared himself to dream for a better life. He had no parents, he had no money, he had no one. But Remus had made him believe. Remus had cared like no one else had cared.

Remus was too precious, too intelligent for this life. He was better off in that posh school of his. And Grant was still stuck doing shitty things. He robbed, he sold drugs, cigarettes and alcohol to posh kids that would surely ruin their lives. He used to think it was the only way. But now, he was so involved that there was no escape. He owed money to Fen. The favors, food, shelter and everything he had given him was for the purpose of owning him. These days, all Grant did was work for him.

"Let's just run away" Remus had told him over the summer. He was gorgeous like that, eyes of worry. They used to lay down, listen to some music and smoke after their snogging sessions.

"To where, sweetheart?" Grant grinned.

"Anywhere... Somewhere far" Remus said, looking down.

Grant laughed. Because Remus always made him laugh. It was worth each time Remus smiled embarrassed.

"We can find decent jobs. And gather money for Uni..."

"What about your posh school, eh? And your prince charming?"

It was easier to bother Remus with that little posh boy he fancied. That way things didn't get complicated between them.

Remus shrugged "It doesn't matter"

Remus had a possibility for a better life. He was smart. He could graduate from school, go to a decent Uni and get a decent job. He had made posh friends. Grant hadn't even finished school. He was dumb and stupid. He was never good with books and stuff. This was the life he was destined to have. But not Remus. Remus deserved better

"Of course it matters, love." Grant spoke. As serious as possible. "It doesn't matter that you are embarrassed to have kissed Sirius or that your relationship will be complicated now"

"It's not that, Grant. I don't belong there. I belong here. With you. With you guys."

Grant sat up so fast he got dizzy. He wasn’t usually an angry person. And he wasn't precisely angry with Remus. This beautiful boy had suffered a lot as well. But Remus couldn't wish this shit hole. Perhaps Grant had gotten too attached to this boy but he had made a mistake dragging him into this mess.

Remus mirrored his position, looking a bit worried.

"Listen to me, sweetheart" Grant faced him, looking into his eyes "I don't want this life for you. You are brilliant and special. And you're gonna do wonderful things in your life... And for that you need to finish that bloody school. Do you hear me?"

Remus's eyes filled with tears.

"What about you? I don't want to leave you alone"

Grant smiled, caressing his wet cheek. "I'll be fine. I always land on my two feet, yeah?"

Remus didn't look so certain. He just gave him a sweet small smile.

"Plus, I'm gonna tell you a little secret" Grant whispered, showing him his teeth "I've been saving money for myself."

"Without Fen knowing?"

"Yeah" Grant nodded, looking around in case someone could hear them "Tell you what. Maybe after you finish school, I'll have enough money for us to leave"

That made Remus smile.

"That is if your prince charming let's you go" Grant grinned.

Remus snorted "He's been ignoring me all summer" he said "And he's not my prince charming" he added rather embarrassed.

Grant laughed. Sirius had always been the boy from Remus's dreams. Remus was not over him. Grant could tell. It was alright anyway. Grant didn't deserve love, he didn't deserve Remus. He was a mess. There was nothing he could give him except for a shitty life.

Grant leaned in, kissing Remus's lips. He took his time, thinking about how much he cared about him. He was not going to let anyone hurt him.

"We will be fine, sweetheart" he said.

Right now, it was the middle of fall. Grant's days felt cold without Remus. They had had so much fun over the summer. Not only for the surprising snogging. But because it had been so easy between them. Plus, Grant felt stronger with Remus around. Feeling he needed to protect him. Now, with Remus back to his school, Grant didn't feel so brave.

He was going over his profits for the day. A really nice cellphone and a wallet. Brenda Finnigan's. She seemed like a nice bird. Grant tried not feel too shitty and guilty. He sat down on the sidewalk and took a fag to himself.

That's when his phone rang. Remus. Grant had been avoiding his calls for two reasons: 1) Fen couldn't know that Grant kept in touch with him. 2) Grant felt ashamed of himself. If only Remus could see the disappointment he had become.

But sometimes he missed his friend so much, he wanted to hear his voice.

"Hello, sweetheart!" He answered cheerfully "It was about time! I hadn't had news!"

"Hey Grant" Remus sounded happy as well "How are you?"

"Good. Good" Grant lied.

"There are news. I reckon I need to tell you something" Remus said "I need to tell someone or I am going to explode"

"What is it, love?" Grant giggled because Remus was so adorable.

"Sirius and I kissed" Remus said. Grant's smile disappeared from his face. "Sirius and I snogged more like. For a whole while" Remus giggled.

It wasn't that Grant had a problem. Remus had fancied that boy since forever. And Grant was so happy that it was happening for him. But there was something weird on his chest. As if someone was squeezing it.

Grant whistled anyway. "Turned out the prince bloke was puff after all"

Remus laughed "I don't know. He says he fancies me but he needs time to figure things out."

Grant had been with many boys that had told him exactly that and then blew him off. Grant really hoped Sirius would not be that case.

"I am so happy for you, sweetheart. See told ya! All you needed to do was kiss him. Nobody resists your gorgeous lips"

"Shut up" Remus giggled "I don't know. I don't want to get my hopes high"

"Why not, love?"

"He can have anyone, Grant. Why would he want me?"

Grant wanted to shake Remus and slap him until he realized how perfect he was.

"Of course he would want you, Remus. You're golden"

Remus was silent but Grant pictured him smiling.

"And how was the snogging, eh? Did you enjoy it?"

Remus laughed.

"I'll take that as a hell yes!"

Remus giggled now "I bloody miss you, Grant"

Remus had no idea how much Grant missed him.

"Me too, sweetheart" he said "I'll see you this Christmas?" he asked hopeful.

"I... I actually agreed with my friends to spend it here, at school"

"Oh!" Grant tried to hide his disappointment.

"Yeah. Last Christmas at Hogwarts and all"

"Sounds fun"

Remus sighed "It is just an idea though. I am not sure. Maybe I will go home. Or you can come here..."

Like Fen will ever allow it. Plus Grant could put Remus at risk.

"Don't worry, love. We'll see when the time comes"

"Okay..."

"I should probably go, eh?" Grant sniffed "But call me back! I want all the details about your new sex life with Prince Charming"

"You're a wanker" Remus laughed. "Love you"

Grant's heart jumped with joy when he heard that.

"Love you too"

Grant hung up with a smile on his face. When he heard his voice.

"Who'as that on the phone, Grant? One of your lovers?"

"Eh, Fen! I didn't see ya there" Grant rose to his feet.

Fenrir Greyback was had been Grant's everything since he was thirteen. His father, his brother, his family, his friend, his first real crush. He showed himself in an angel disguised. Grant used to think he was his savior. But lately he had been realizing the monster he was. He had used Grant. Now Grant was kind of scared of him.

"Aye... You know me, Fen. Always after some bloke"

Fen nodded and sniffed. "It wasn't your little boyfriend, eh? Our little cub... Lil Remus, eh?"

Grant swallowed. But he shook his head "I told yeh I don't know where he is! He just disappeared!"

"You're not lying to me, eh Grant?" Fen got closer. He wasn’t handsome or attractive. He was so much older than Grant. He was nasty, not a proper gentleman. Always mean. Always raw. Plus he had a terrible breath. But still, he had been Grant's first deepest love. He had been the first one to accept him as the queer disaster he was. And he took care of him. Fed him. Taught him everything he knew. Grant had loved him even if he was straight and would never reciprocate him. But Grant had been blinded. Fenrir was a terrible person. Grant had seen him doing horrible things. "That Lil ungrateful cub still owes me money, yeh know?"

"I don't know where he is" Grant whispered.

"Bought him his first binder and that treatment to make him attractive. So attractive you fooled around with him this summer, eh lil puffy boy?" Fen put a fag between his lips and smiled.

"I really thought he was going to be back to us as well" Grant shrugged "I bet his ol'dad took him away or something... That bloke never liked us..."

Grant was surprised when Fen grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer.

"Who da'fuck does that cub thinks he is?? He thinks this is a joke? Eh?? I own him! I bloody own him. So Granty... If you're lying and hiding your boyfriend away, I will make sure to kill yeh personally..."

"I'm not lying, I swear!" Grant was ashamed of how scared he sounded.

"I bloody hope so!" Fen let him go "But don't worry, I will find our lil Remmy boy... In the meantime, you're gonna pay for whatever he owes me..." he extended his dirty palm "Your today's profit?"

Grant sighed as he emptied his pockets and gave everything he had stolen, all the money he had gathered from his sellings. He wanted to save something for himself before Fen saw it. But now it was too late.

Fen was happy with what Grant gave him. So he smirked, showing Grant his yellow teeth. He ruffled his hair and gave him a little slap on cheek.

"Nice one, Granty!" he exclaimed "Keep working like that. An' don't make me bloody angry"

One day, Grant was going to get out of this circle. He was going to have a better life. He was going to finish school and get a decent job. But for now. He had to protect Remus from that wanker. If Fen knew he was actually in a posh school, kissing a fruity little posh boy, without taking advantage of that or sending him money, he was going to go feral. Remus deserved better. He was too good for this.

***

In my Muggle AU, Remus's pack is a gang of delinquents and Grant is part of it. Fenrir Greyback is their leader. It was when Remus was fourteen that he met them. His mum just died and his father didn't want to accept his transition. He didn't have friends in his old school because they thought he was a freak. Then he met Grant on a party (where he was stealing). And he introduced Remus to this world. They were the first ones to accept him as himself. That was before he started talking to Sirius again and got to Hogwarts.

[butterfly87676]

This is how the Sea-beast character reacts to you got stabbed or shot (for some reason you came out of life)

General will definitely panic. It will shot the person who shot you and then went up to you and check on you but some reason you got up like nothing happens and the general like ask you “WTF? How are you live? “and “you like I have no idea” and she will pick you up and take you to the nursery

Fen she would come up to you and will cry a little bit but then you call her name and she panic because she thought you were a ghost but no she kind a like use her hook to like pinch your cheek and you’ll be like “ow what the fuck” without a hesitation she jump on you and kiss your cheek and she said “oh my God Don’t ever do that again babe.”

Lea oh, that poor little girl she was on the crow nest, my her own business at the nest and spotted you on the ground with a knife on your gut. She call someone to go after of the person who stabbed you and her she come up to you and like take off her jacket and to stop the bleeding and then for some reason you like head bump her head and then she’s like “oh my gosh OW! and second WHAT THE FU-!?

Part two coming

[libidomechanica]

“Let in the red mans hand”

Roared before the wide wings, streaming.     Let in the red man’s hand. If by traduction can’t recur.     Drop by, and no blood curdled in feeling myself, and Stellaes     eyes survey’d the childlike into the grove, nor wish’d there’s     ne’er err’d, nor over-

anxious care. Away from the Arrows     that the echoes, dying, drilling,—for deeming frown. And     storing its wall; and stormed at the Elysian lawns, whereto     all those that others. The cost would be about witche: and     the world uplifts its spirit

in my own nostrils, should bar     him off to thee did make. But, ah, she gazing out an hour,     and, withouten lincks of love resides all contractor’s feet;     and what is lost the western skies. Reality, nor seemed     and I will not. He was

free to confident confusion,     and Stella is? When bells forth into universary,     a dove, my love and more on your early June, I to her     mammie’s wark, and gay: but death is six days long. Ties? Arose     and grow for ever. And

so last night and cared nothing air.     Penny that beneath and mouth? I stammered that way, he     sate by the third, in columns, with which starts; the Mamma Mia’s!     The ghost at least word, thinke you are a hard one to wake me.     When I inhale, smoke

occupied by fens. Come away dyd     wype. Till a morbid hate and bye The Shah beheld them proper     tone came out above us the waves of pearl makes sense,     to gratify, like Orpheus, from a grey churches; ’ there     was not Wisdom in Himself

had trod Sicilian fold,     his sheep, his hands, and wilt thou shepheards quill. To see a woman     climbs a peak to gaze o’er land and were accustom’d, as     a snowflake in love, my daily fires; the loved you, a million—     drawered cherries

pluck’d fresh as a rose her wishes     went! Part of a grave united by the innocence, as     common soldiers have left alone. Winds howling, will have come     away, children do in the weighs that her warlike mind, my     flashy acrobatics

with wives. Full in myself a motley     to their engineering slang, nor willing fetters—the     chains of your face was shed upon my face turns toward his world.     Sweet bells forth everywhere, confused by yourself would not vary,     is constable, table-

cloth and sees with his flute his     fires, those powers voted the aire: This life was one-and-twenty     I heard your warmly lit house of Amundeville,     and snowy summits old in store, to hinder the other     when the dances at a

leap; on whom pale as it was ashamed     of successful too; winning postures, couched no soul nor     boundless rue. Below my chin, she taught me Turn, and he did     sip, and laughs at thy birth I owe nobler seat then? The lightly     slake the first i’ th’

flower and being best     acquaintance mad March greater than she will went on in prepares     thro’ the bath-house love killer, I am murderous and     hath weand my comen trade, to crown thin, produce the lea; but     the old ladies, who fondly

laid, and tempting love. Along     the Noble Nature keep me alive has seizes warrior     maid invincible, arm’d with music. Nor ought delightest     ground at first ye were not talked, the right and trip when I did     strive to her colour vade

of fire, mortals he is gone, I     could not join them think on. Ho, and all in an houre sincerest     who are strong as that rivers. If Lucy hould breaking     of Empire, nor any mortal in a single shade     of love. At barn or byre

thou dar’st, all adieu! Meantime, her     make one dumb, yet leave my whimsies; but thoughts in a stare; and     crowne her golden dreams of glory and grace for it alone.     Tingle on the weather— still drink my answered nothing, but     with a mobile nose she

moved among us, learnt, for thou     art my wit or ward, was he, that’s great expanse and in your     death is gone down, I wak’d, she did sit or walke; how cloth’d; how     waited but thou wage mute! Waking no summers could reach the     pause I live and losse of

death. And bristling tier, forty feet     to where falls short; and see the pikes, or wait the Amen, ere     the spot where, and this you can find none! Ye goatherd gods, that     I lo’e thee with awful echoes, answers the palms. He gaed     wi’ Jeanie to the drunken

king to brawl at Shushan     underneath thy tongue for what will not dead; would them were still my     argument; so all men may be named by your hands we took     up an older friend, like that ancient Rome or Greece, whose deny,     my love immortal

mesh and lonely for his toilet,—     which of nicety, where you go. By those who rarely seen,     and beat, night-long with various nations; the Head, her back     to me. So that thou Lost in you, not lost it to you.     Sighing she spoke: like men!

[itsfloortimebabey]

LOVER COME OVERRRR

[thebellekeys]

Reflections: The Story of Tessa

This isn't an objective or even fair assessment of TSC, but because of how much Clockwork Angel and herongraystairs mean to me given that I read TID back when I was twelve, I sort of visualize the whole of TSC as the story of Tessa, with the different trilogies being punctuations, in the overarching scheme of things, in the Tessa Herongraystairs story.

I once said that Tessa marks the chronological inception of the story of the five families: the Herondales, Carstairs, Fairchilds, Blackthorns and Lightwoods. No family would have a lineage in the present day in its current state if not for Tessa and the Clockwork War and the way herongraystairs' played out chronologically. So, sometimes I just map out the whole TSC as the story of Tessa with the different books in TSC as linear checkpoints in the narrative of The Bestest Girl Ever aka Tessa Gray. It sort of looks like this when I break it down in my head:

Phase 1: Inception - This is TID (and the literal equivalent of the Big Bang for me from a linear perspective) yunno like the passion the love the power the sacrifices the desperation the growth of the characters in this series. I think the choices made in this trilogy set the course for everything.

Phase 2: Wessa - this is TLH. It's Wessa's Happily Ever After that we get to glimpse, ie, their follow-up to TID and the lifetime that Wessa got to have together: the ever-important Love Story No. 1 come to life. The end of this lifetime is marked by Learn About Loss and A Deeper Love from GOTSM for me, another punctuation. Lifetime No. 1 includes the Tessa Herondale story and that of a lineage she will produce that will reappear in her life in a century's time: it’s her family and experiences with Will, the story of her children, James and Lucie, and a Shadowhunter life in Edwardian London.

Phase 3: Impetus - This is City of Heavenly Fire aka, the book that changed the trajectory of Tessa and Jem's lives completely and the figure that shifted everything for them: Jace Herondale. Jem gets freed from the yin fen and his strife, and a whole new door gets opened because of this "other story of Fairchilds and Lightwoods and Herondales" and whatnot. In this way, you can picture the whole of TMI as the story of Jem's inevitable freedom from Brother Zachariah. From this angle, the epilogue of Clockwork Princess (*cries*) and the epilogue of City of Heavenly Fire are not just an ending or a beginning. It is sinply the midpoint in the narrative of Tessa Gray.

Phase 4: The Search for the Lost Herondale - This is both TDA and GOTSM. The Carstairs owe the Herondales. Tessa and Jem don't get to have their Happily Ever After just yet, because they need to find Kit. We know they love Kit with the pureness that parents just possess, but we also know that they see Kit as a little piece of Will that Jessa can still have in their lives (which mirrors the way Brother Zachariah in TLH was a means of having a little piece of the old Jem in Wessa's life). Cassie made Jessa work for their happily ever after here. The punctuation mark for me here is Through Blood, Through Fire and Forever Fallen from GOTSM.

Phase 5: Jessa - this is TWP. We haven't gotten much of it yet, but it's basically the Happily Ever After of Jessa that we've been waiting for since our Phase 1. This is the second follow-up to TID and the life that Jessa now get to have. This is Love Story No. 2 come to life, and it likely will be punctuated by the end of TWP. This is the story of Tessa Carstairs, one of a warlock's life in Devon with a family in Jem, Kit and Mina.

So to conclude, I'm a huge-ass Tessa stan okay, so sometimes I just see the whole of TSC as the story of Tessa with her two relationships and lifetimes - it's her love and family-building with Will and Jem just stretched across different epochs, each as milestones in a singular but linear character arc. I see Tessa Gray stepping onto the docks of London in TID as the inception of TSC from a narrative perspective and her relationships with Will and Jem as complements to each other.

James and Lucie are to Wessa what Kit and Mina are to Jessa. Shadowhunter Tessa is to Wessa what Warlock Tessa is to Jessa. Rescuing Kit (to have a bit on Herondale in their relationship) is to Jessa what having Brother Zachariah visit the London Institute every two minutes was to Wessa (what I mean here is that it was never possible to fully have both Jem and Will with her at once - Brother Zachariah was a fragment of the Jem Carstairs that Wessa loved, while Kit Herondale is a pretty souvenir of Will and the Herondale bloodline that Jessa so love).

Hence, Tessa's character arc is the spine of TSC when it comes to *major emotional stuff* for me. Amidst each individual book, the sheer size of herongraystairs is a penumbra always living in my peripherals. Tessa is an ever-lurking constant in the narrative of TSC itself, and I guess I sometimes just imagine TSC as a giant hallway: the paintings that hang at the sides are the individual TSC books, and Tessa Gray is the granite upon which they sit.

[strangerhands]

OHMYGODOHKYGODOHMYGODOHNYGODOUHJTGOFOUKMGUODHDIOFHDKFNFNOHYMOFGGFKFNDJWYSKFHOHMYGOFOGHMFYOFHGKFOFUFNDKOUNKYIOFGFOHMYFUCKINGGOD FEN IM SCREAMING AND CREAMING AND RIPPING MY SHEETS APART HOLY SHIT HOLY FUCKING SHIT THE GASP I GUSPED UPON SEEING THIS IM GONNA EAT MY WALLS OHMYGOD IM GONNA BREAK MY FACE THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE YES LETS FUCKING GO BABY

*resisting the urge to copy and paste and react to every single fucking line there is because everything is too incredible*

OHMYFUCKINGGOD FEN. FEN. FEN FEN FEN. FEN. FENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN. I AM SO INSANE OVER THEM GRHRJABFBBWJFBSHFBSJDDHDHDBG THIS WAS SO SO SO FUCKING GOOD AND HOT AND SEXY AND DELICIOUS AND SWEET AND BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT NMGNGBSHFBDKGBFEBFN FUCKKKKKK. i. i. i. iiiiii. i bow down to you. i am kneeling on the floor for you. i thank you. i owe you. my life. i will die for you. bless you fen. you are a master at your craft. thank you. thank you. thank you.

i literally teared up at this because of how insane and feral trine makes me. i am so dead serious. the visceral reactions this series pulls from me are no fucking joke. i really cant even just react to one single line right now because this whole reblog would just be me pasting out this entire fic and screaming about EVERYTHING.

thinking about AnselemxReaderxBlue where the reader wakes up to Anselem spooning baby Blue n playing with him while they wait for her to wake 👀 I can’t decide if she’d love watching them rock into each other or punish them for getting started without her

I am so sorry this took so long and also I got a bit carried away...

Trine [4]

Anselm Vogelweide X Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Part One • Trine Masterlist • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Warnings: errrrrrrr, reader is married to Anselm, Anselm refers to reader as ‘my love’, Blue being such a sub, begging, teasing, edging, dacryphilia - a bit, p in v sex, hand jobs, spanking, anal fingering, cream pies, oral (f receiving), there's the smallest bit of german in here, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2490

________________________________

Blue whimpers weakly, pressing his face into the pillow to try to quieten the moans that catch in his throat. 

Anselm growls softly behind him, his chest pressed against his back and nipping lightly at his earlobe before sucking hard at his neck. Blue sobs, his spine bowing as Anselm’s hand keeps fisting his cock, speeding up and then slowing down the second Blue tries to chase his high. 

“Aww, my kleine blau,” Anselm whispers, chuckling in his ear and Blue whines desperately. “So loud. Do you want to wake my wife, hmm? Think she’ll take pity on you do you?” He presses his free hand against Blue’s forehead and pulls him back, exposing his neck even more. “She won’t.” He hisses and bites again at his ear. 

Blue squirms, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. “Please, Anselm, please.” 

“Aww, you beg so prettily, my love.” Anselm’s hand rapidly increases for a moment before he slows painfully. “Why would I ever want to give you what you want when you sound and look so sweet like this?” 

A sob of frustration leaves Blue’s lips, forgetting momentarily that you are sleeping next to him. You stir a little at the sound, still feeling the warm pull of slumber and ache in your muscles from the previous evening's activities. 

Anselm stoves two fingers into Blue’s mouth and rapidly increases the movement of his wrist, purposefully making the slap, slap, slap of skin echo louder around the room and Blue’s choked whines more pitiful. 

He bites down hard on Blue’s neck, intentionally pulling a sharp muffled sob from his throat. 

Anselm’s eyes, dark and predatory, are glued to yours as you wake fully and take in the scene before you. 

Blue gazes imploringly, reaching his hands out for you needily. But Anselm quickly removes his fingers from his mouth and pins Blue’s arms to his chest. 

“Naughty, naughty,” he hisses just before he licks a hot stripe up Blue’s neck.  He looks back to you and smiles sweetly, “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?” 

Blue cries out desperately. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I did. Did you sleep at all, or have you been torturing Blue the whole night?” 

Anselm grins wickedly. “Only for the last, oh… thirty minutes or so.” 

Blue sobs, arching his back and trying to buck his hips to meet Anselm’s hand. “Please,” he looks to you with tears in his eyes, his bottom lip between his teeth. And you can’t help but smile. 

You shift a little towards him and lean forward just enough to lightly brush your lips against his. 

Blue lets out another sweet whimper. His lips are hot and wet from where he keeps biting them. He darts his tongue out, briefly licking into your mouth as he opens his, retreating back and urging you to follow. 

You growl, grabbing hold of his cheeks and stroking his skin as you slip your tongue past his lips and kiss him deeply. He tries to push himself against you, straining against Anselm’s tight hold while his hips still buck desperately to reach his high. 

He wants to sink into the sensations, melt between the both of you and become liquid in your hands. 

Anselm stops his movements altogether, squeezing the base of Blue’s cock firmly. He can’t take it anymore and sobs loudly, tears in the corners of his eyes and slipping out from the constant edging. He breaks the kiss with you pitifully, biting his lip and shuddering. 

“You’re being mean,” you say playfully, swatting Anselm’s arm lightly while you stroke Blue’s cheeks. Acting as if his tears didn’t send heat racing downwards. 

“Am I, my love?” He grins wickedly despite the faux innocence in his voice. 

“Very.” You smile back. 

“You’d spoil him if he was all yours, you know?” He chuckles, enjoying how Blue squirms in his arms when he’s being ignored like this, how his breathing increases. 

“Oh, would I?” You lean forward and kiss Anselm lightly, barely a touch of your lips. 

He groans and grabs hold of the back of your neck, keeping you in place so that he can lick into your mouth as he pleases. His grip is firm, warm and sure as he steals the breath from your lungs. 

Blue places a light kiss to your neck, nuzzling into your skin for a moment before whining loudly as Anselm squeezes his cock firmly once more. He breaks the kiss but keeps his hand on the back of your neck as he tuts at Blue. 

“Naughty naughty, trying to get on her good side.” He kisses you again, swiping his tongue over yours. “My love, he deserves to be punished.” 

You chuckle and Blue pouts and whines. “Anselm,” but you barely get the word out before he kisses you deeply. 

“I should tie him to the bed and fuck you on top of him until he’s sorry.” 

Blue squirms, shaking his head rapidly and practically sobbing. Panic gripping his chest at the idea he’s upset Anselm that much. 

You stroke his cheeks, seeing the distress on his face. You kiss his forehead. “It’s just play.” Anselm quickly nuzzles Blue’s neck, sucking a love bite onto his pulse point. “My sweet little thing,” he hushes in Blue’s ear. “So good for me, for us.” He places another quick kiss to his cheek before moving back and leaning over so he can rummage in his bedside table and pulls out a bottom of lube. 

Blue nestles into you, kissing along your jaw, one hand on your hip while the other squeezes your breast.

“Please,” he mutters against your skin, so desperate and horny he can’t even think straight. “Please, can I?” He slides his hand under your soft thigh and hitches your leg over his, nudging the thick head of his weeping cock at your entrance. 

He hisses, his eyes rolling back in his head when he feels how wet you are. How his tip glides through your stick folds. “You like this?” He mutters desperately, “like seeing me so desperate?” He bites his lip, trying to stop the shallow thrusts of his hips, trying not to sink inside your tight, wet heat. 

“I do.” You whisper, running your nails along his scalp and he shudders, gasping. 

“Please,” he groans, his eyelids fluttering in an effort to keep them open. “Please, need you both to use me. Need to come with you both.” 

"So, eager to please mein Süßer.” Anselm kneels over you both, pushing lightly between Blue’s shoulder blades so he turns, pushing you onto your back and him on top of you. 

Anselm smacks his ass once and Blue yelps in surprise more than pain, pouting. 

You can’t suppress your giggle. 

“You can’t help yourself,” Anselm tuts, “I move away for eine Minute and you’re already begging to get balls deep in my wife.” 

Blue squirms. “I-”

Anselm cuts him off with two sharp slaps to each ass cheek that has Blue wailing and biting his lip. The pain spreads deliciously up his spine, settling in the base of his cock. The weight of it is almost too much to bear. 

Anselm nods his head to you, and you smile. “Legs up, my love.” He asks softly, and you do as he requests, wrapping your legs around Blue and crossing your ankles over the small of his back. 

Anselm is the one that grabs Blue’s leaking cock and lines him up with your aching pussy. He pushes on Blue’s ass to guide him inside, holding his hip to stop him from thrusting in too quickly. 

Blue whines as he follows Anselm’s directions perfectly, gazing down at you with lust drunk eyes. “Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you,” falls out of his mouth with every sweet inch that plunges deeper, squeezing him so tight and making him lightheaded. “You feel so good, I’m-” His breath hitches, “I’m gonna cum, I’m sorry, I’m-”

Anselm smacks his ass hard again, his skin reddening quickly. The jolt forces him in the last few centimetres, presses him flush against you and he groans loudly. 

The stretch has you tensing, arching up towards him as he presses deliriously deep, rubbing perfectly against the source of your ache. 

“You’re not going to cum just yet,” Anselm pats the handprint he’s left on Blue’s skin, and Blue nods rapidly, eyes screwed tight as he tries to get a hold of himself. 

Anselm gazes down at you, leaning forward for a second to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “You okay, my love?” 

You nod and swallow, hardly able to form words with the onslaught of sensation. The tip of Blue’s cock is nudging at your sweet spot, practically vibrating with how he’s shaking. 

“We didn’t play with you beforehand,” he says sweetly in your ear, half in genuine concern, the other just an excuse to rile you up even more. 

“It’s good.” You breathe. “He’s…” you gasp as Blue wriggles ever so slightly. 

“He’s in exactly the right position,” Anselm nods as he speaks and sits up. “Good. Hear that Blue?” He smacks his ass one more time. The force sends a jolt through his limbs and both you and Blue moan headily at how you move together. 

Anselm smiles, “So, you heard her Blue.” 

He nods rapidly. 

“Perfect spot. So no moving.” He pushes Blue’s ass firmly down. “Not even a centimetre out, understand?” 

Blue nods again. 

Anselm flicks open the bottle of lube and coats his middle and forefinger liberally. “I’m going to move you.” 

Blue frowns for a moment in confusion, about to ask what he means. But his words are cut off by a gasp as Anselm presses his fingers against Blue’s entrance. He shivers, whines in surprise and for a second you worry. Your walls involuntarily clenching down on him. 

“Wait-” You start.

“Plleeaaasssee,” Blue begs, tears running down his cheeks. “Oh fuck, please, just, just get up there, get inside, get-” he moans so loudly it’s almost a scream as Anselm presses in deep, pushing past his tight drink of muscle and strokes deep. 

Blue shakes, trembling with sensation as Anselm’s fingers press and your cunt squeezes. Pleasure explodes behind his eyes, runs along his limbs as Anselm pushes, rocks him against you as if he were a puppet completely under Anselm’s control. 

You gasp, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he moves, rocking his hips against you at a mind-numbing pace that has you seeing stars. 

Blue shrieks as Anselm finds his prostate, his orgasm exploding along every nerve and tensing his muscles. He sobs as he comes, his hips moving of their own accord as he floats above his body in bliss. He pumps load after load of hot, thick cum into you, his body running on autopilot as he collapses on top of you. 

Anselm slowly removes his fingers and kisses his shoulders as you kiss his temple. You both hug him for a moment, whispering soothing words as he stays boneless before you both help him up and onto his back on the pillows. 

Anselm licks up the mess on his cock  before he takes hold of your hips and presses you back against the mattress. 

“Such a lovely mess.” He mutters, fisting his own cock for a second before he sinks into you and groans. “Ah, has made you so,” he growls, snapping his hips hard and fast, “needy,” you whine underneath him as he sits up, changing the angle so he can fuck into you rapidly. “So wet, and warm,” he snarls, sweat beading on his temples. 

He places his hand on your chest, between your breasts and keeps you pinned flat to the bed. 

You whine against him, your body hurtling you towards your orgasm as he takes and takes and takes. The way his hips move, the deep, precise thrusts he has memorised, ingrained into his very fibre of being to make you see stars. 

The slap, slap, slap of his thick cock against you, the way he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in breaks Blue from his daze. His cock twitches despite his mind-shattering orgasm a moment before. 

He groans watching, shuffles forward and kisses you sweetly, the action so soft and sweet it almost breaks you in two. 

“Here,” Anselm groans, strain in his voice well covered by his affection for you both. He gently but firmly guides Blue’s head away from you and presses him towards your centre. “Put your mouth to better use.” 

Your cry is sharp, almost alien to your own ears as Blue’s tongue darts out and flicks against your clit as Anselm thrusts against your g spot repeatedly. 

You squirm under both of them, both trying to get closer but also shy away from the pleasure. 

Blue latches onto your clit, moaning as he sucks, his eyes rolling back into his head. Anselm groans as you pulse around him, he keeps a steady hand on the back of Blue’s head and grabs your tight, hiking it high on his hip. Your breathing hitches and he knows you’re close. 

“Take me so well, my love,” he groans, bowing forward ever so slightly as you squeeze around him, your body sucking him deep and fighting to keep him inside. “Made for me, made for us.” 

Blue moans in agreement, looking at you with large, heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Cum on my cock, want to feel you come apart and scream.” 

You whine, so close you can taste it. 

“Want you to-” Anselm groans suddenly as Blue snakes his hand up his thigh, squeezes his ass before dipping lower and cupping his balls. He massages them in the warmth of his palm and Anselm’s vision goes white. 

You gasp as Blue mewls against you, lapping at your clit and gazing up at you, knowing exactly what he's doing. 

Anselm thrusts deeply, the knot in his stomach clenching, his balls tightening and you throw your head back as you come. Your orgasm robbing you of your strength. 

Anselm comes a second later, groaning as your walls squeeze and pulsate and pull him down with you. He bucks shallowly as he fills you to the brim and mixes with the mess Blue made. 

Blue keeps sucking your clit until you stop shaking and your muscles relax. He slowly removes his mouth from you, his hand from Anselm and moves to sit up. 

But you wrap an arm around his neck and pull him down neck to you kissing his cheeks and nose and lips until he’s giggling and snuggling into your side.

You use your other arm to pull Anselm down on top of you, kiss his temple, his scars, nuzzle into his beard and nip at his bottom lip. 

He sighs into your embrace, presses his face into your neck and breathes deeply while he hugs both of you tightly. 

____________________

Thank you for reading!

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[blueburds]

Whumptober prompt #4

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

The numbness Fen felt was a comfort, a grace, for the second he began to realize his pain, he was in agony. His head was pounding, dizzy and aching. And a sense of dread washed over his body.

          Two corpses lied motionless on either side of him—the other two Padawans, he recalled. Groaning, he pushed himself to his hands and knees and examined his surroundings. The old temple, where a ritual was conducted. The once-proud standing statues of ancient Jedi were littered with cracks, and some features were worn away by age or missing altogether. The reliefs carved into the walls depicted followers of a horned, hooded figure cutting open their arms and presenting offerings of blood. A commitment of loyalty, metaphorically and literally. The blood of the figure’s followers tied them together.

          The ritual was only explained in detail to Fen as it was taking place. His Master Benai brought Fen here, along with the other gullible Padawans, to use them in his sacrifice. It was coming back to Fen now, much too quickly.

          He pushed himself to his feet, catching himself against a fallen bit of statue with his bruised hand. He was still so dizzy. He shuffled over to Elandreth, the Miraluka Padawan Fen had grown closer to over their travels. Her body, now a husk, was barely recognizable if not for the familiar attire and blindfold. Gingerly he touched her cheek, the skin ghastly dry and pale. Tears stung his eyes as he quickly wiped them away on his sleeve, but more came to replace them in seconds. They plopped onto her face and rolled off her cheek.

          Sorrow weighed down Fen’s entire body; he curled forward, lekku falling over his shoulders, and he cupped her face as he sobbed.

          He steadied his breaths. What was sorrow gradually became understanding, and understanding became anger.

          Slowly he turned, mindful to be gentle of his friend’s corpse withering away in his arms. He saw Benai coughing, struggling to push himself up. Whatever happened, it affected all of them, Fen thought.

          Trying to ignore the headache piercing through his skull, he got to his feet and stumbled toward Benai. All the strength he could muster, all the energy he could gather, he managed to grab his master through the Force and throw him against the wall. “How could you do this?” Fen screamed. “We trusted you!”

          Benai spit blood to the side, waving off the cloud of dust the impact created. “This is my path to enlightenment. You would deny me of this reward?”

          “You took their lives for your own gain. You are entitled to nothing.”

          “Do you wish to take my life, too? What would that gain you? Revenge leads to a dark, dark path, Padawan.”

          “Killing innocents for a selfish purpose of power doesn’t?”

          “You are naïve and young, Fen. I thought you would’ve grown a spine as I trained you. I was wrong.” Benai stood, though weakly, and glared to his angered Padawan. “And I would have hoped that you would be more grateful—”

          “Grateful?”

          “—for pulling you out of that cesspool, Nal Hutta. I did you a favor, child. You would still be rotting away as a slave, dirty and malnourished. Here, your role serves a purpose greater than you could comprehend.”

          “Shut up,” Fen snapped, not even bothering to do away with his heavy Huttese accent. “You thought you could just use me after making me feel like I owe you a debt.”

          “But you do, Fen.”

          “I don’t.” Fen reached for his lightsaber—and realized its weight was absent at his belt. His gut churned.

          Benai noticed and chuckled drily. “You really do want to kill me, hm?”

          “Stop talking.” He couldn’t sense his lightsaber, not in the immediate moment. Since the blade came into his possession only recently, it took more focus and a clearer mind to locate it—neither of which Fen had in this state. But in the past, he’d found other creative means of killing. Nal Hutta was a harsh environment; one had to adapt if they were to survive.  

          Fen swept his leg across the ground and kicked up loose dirt and rock, then shoved a wave of Force forward to send the debris straight at his master. Benai shielded his face and Fen bolted toward him.  

          With a fist-sized rock clutched in his grasp, Fen nailed him in the temple—again, again and again—avoiding the crown of horns circling his master’s head. Benai howled in pain as he desperately tried to stop the assault. The rock chipped a horn, then another, sending the pieces flying and mixing with the sand below.

          Fen heard his master plead for him to stop. He saw only red. His eyes were flown wide open in blind rage; his teeth ground together so hard that he thought he might break them.

          Benai eventually fell limp. At what point, Fen wasn’t certain, but he knew he’d gone overboard with the kill. Dark, warm blood trickled from his fingers down his arm. Despite his better efforts, Fen sliced the side of his hand and his palm on the horns. He wasn’t sure where the sudden bout of strength came from, but as he realized that strength remained, he noticed that his head felt significantly better. Fen swallowed hard. The dark, eerie feeling from earlier intensified and swelled within his chest.

          Fen pushed himself up, breaths quickening as he took in the sight of the murder he’d committed.

          It was satisfactory. Not a drop of remorse lingered in his heart. Killing his master felt good.

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Sneaking Around | Chapter Nine

All of the next week passed without any problems. Aelin prided herself on being responsible, especially in the workplace, causing her not to summon Rowan to her office and lock the door. Damned responsibility.

It was now officially one week from Christmas. Work was out until after the holiday. This was Aelin’s favorite time of the year. Now some of the office gang was gathering at the bar at the end of Friday to celebrate this exciting fact. Lots of other employees had had the same idea, and Ansel was very busy. Lorcan was also excluded (that’s what he gets for working at a gym). Elide, Gavriel, and Manon were working late. Lysandra and Aedion had gone to get drinks and failed to return. Shocker.

Vaughan had just gone to the bathroom, and at this moment, Fenrys and Connall, the bastards, made an announcement. “Rowan,” said Fen, “we have a surprise for you.”

Connall continued, “You haven’t been in a relationship for, like, years.” Aelin, the only other person at the table right now, snickered at this. That is, until she tried to figure out where this was going.

Fenrys spoke again. “And so, we have arranged a date for you.”

Rowan, quite understandably, looked utterly shocked and quite a bit horrified. “Um, no.”

Connall winced. “Now, hear us out. Of course you’re angry. But. She’s hot.”

“Very hot,” added Fenrys.

Rowan scowled. “I don’t need your help getting a girlfriend, thank you. Stay out of my love life.”

“But dude,” Fenrys pleaded. “She’s a family friend, and she’s totally looking forward to her date with my lovely coworker. That’s you, by the way.”

Rowan didn’t even bother looking sorry. “I am not going on an arranged date. I can’t fathom why you would tell this woman I’m just going on a date with her. Did you seriously expect me to agree to this?”

“Okay, see,” Fenrys was pleading now. “You totally owe me-”

“For what?” Rowan intervened.

Ignoring him, Fenrys continued. “And she would be really upset if I didn’t pull through. You know, she’s not going to be in town for long. You could just put up with one date, maybe screw her, and you’ll never have to see her again.” Men. Aelin needed new friends.

Rowan sighed. He was pointedly not looking in her direction. “I suppose I feel a little bad now, but I am not going on a date with her.” Aelin could tell from his tone he didn’t feel bad at all.

Connall scowled. “Dude, what, do you have a secret girl or something?”

Rowan almost imperceptibly stiffened and didn’t answer the question. Aelin had frozen as well. Connall’s glare deepened. “Yeah, right. Don’t pretend you’re getting laid just because you don’t want to go on this date. Doesn’t work on me.”

Connall’s stupidity relieved Aelin (he wasn’t the brightest), but she lost all relaxation when she glanced over at Fenrys. He was staring at her as Connall continued to pressure Rowan into agreeing to the date.

Aelin raised her eyebrows in a What? gesture.

Fenrys just stared, until a smirk began to spread across his face. Hell no.

At the sign of Aelin’s panic, his grin grew. Fuck. She gave a slight shake of the head and prayed Fenrys had more compassion than Vaughan would in this situation. Or Lorcan. Or Lysandra. Yes, she definitely needed new friends.

Just as Aelin started thanking the gods for Fenrys’ kindness when he looked away and seemed to drop that revelation, he said, “I seem to recall winning a bet last week, Rowan. Your payment was, if I recall correctly, one favor of my choice.”

Rowan froze once again. Aelin tried not to sigh. “What the hell did you bet on?” asked Aelin in her most amused, but also I-totally-don’t-really-care voice. Fenrys seemed to have figured out what was going on with them, but Connall probably wouldn’t connect the question to anything important.

Rowan did sigh. “I don’t remember. We make so many bets.” Idiot men.

Connall sneered. “It looks like you have to go on the date. And be pleasant; she doesn’t deserve to be scowled at all night just because you’re grumpy.” Aelin, despite herself, snorted at this.

Rowan casually glanced at her and she gave a small shrug. He still hesitated. “I will go on the damned date if I really must, but are you sure you don’t want to spare me? Please, dudes?” Okay, maybe Aelin should be annoyed or jealous or whatever it is normal people feel in situations like this, but she could only bring herself to find it hilarious. She couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out of her as Rowan continued begging.

Rowan turned and glared at Aelin, then put his gaze back on the twins. “What’s her name?” he asked the boys.

“Remelle.”

And that is how Rowan got roped into a date that was not with his sort-of girlfriend. Aelin laughed again.

-

“So,” said Fenrys, who insisted on walking Aelin to her apartment hours later. Neither were in any state to drive, she and Fen lived near each other, and Rowan didn’t want to risk being spotted with her on the way out. “You’re fucking Whitethorn,” he stated.

Aelin snorted. “Yep.”

Fenrys grinned at her. “I have a few questions. Like how long? And why?”

Aelin giggled. She’d certainly had a lot to drink. “We’re dating. Well sort of. I mean, we’ve gone on dates. And we’re in like. Like in love except it’s like, not love.”

Fenrys chuckled. “You’ve both seemed happier recently. Although we all knew you had some secret lover.”

Aelin giggled again. Beer really did wonders for her. “You’re not nice, though. You didn’t have to make him go on that date when you found out.”

Fenrys seemed quite a bit more sober than her. “I couldn’t help myself. Payback for not telling me.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, almost getting disoriented enough at this to run into the nearby streetlight. Fenrys grabbed her before she could bash her nose in.

“Did you get me all drunk so I’d spill the beans?” Aelin asked.

Fenrys chuckled. “Darling, you got drunk all by yourself.”

Aelin sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Fenrys smiled fondly at her.

-

Fenrys had dropped Aelin off at her apartment and headed to his own. The rest of the walk hadn’t consisted of much questioning, which surprised Aelin at first, but when she thought about it, Fenrys always had his motives.

She was now sitting at the counter the next morning, battling the effects of last night’s drinks; namely, a migraine.

Her phone rang. Aelin picked it up to see Rowan’s name on the caller ID.

“Yeah?” she answered quietly. Ansel was still asleep.

“I wanted to ask you if you’re sure you’re okay with the date. I didn’t have a chance to talk about it last night.”

Just hearing Rowan’s voice made her happy. She didn’t care if the subject of their conversation was some “very hot” woman he was going to have dinner with.

“I’ll admit, it’s pretty weird. If she’s just going to be here for a little bit, though, it’s fine if you get roped into it.”

She could almost feel Rowan’s scowl through the phone. “Um, no, not fine. Not anywhere close to fine.”

Laughing quietly, Aelin said, “You have to admit it’s kind of funny.” When Rowan did not seemed inclined to admit anything of the sort, Aelin continued. “And you had that coming. Who the hell bets favors? You out of cash?” He didn’t respond to this either. “Oh, Fenrys figured it out, by the way. We are damned awful at keeping secrets.”

Rowan sighed. “I can’t argue with that. What did he say?”

“Well, I was rather drunk at the time, but I seem to recall he wasn’t totally horrified or whatever. I doubt he’ll tell. There were surprisingly few questions.”

“Fenrys will be the death of us, I can assure you of that. So, anyways, from Connall I have gleaned that Remelle is hot, sexy, and totally cool. He’s probably exaggerating, but either way, you needn’t feel jealous.”

Aelin laughed. “I wasn’t planning on it. I trust you. If you do cheat on me, though, I’ll kill you.”

Rowan snorted. “I believe it. I won’t, though. Well, technically, is the date in itself cheating?”

“Gods, who cares? Don’t kiss the lady, come back and fuck me. As simple as that.”

Rowan chuckled. “Your wish is my command, Majesty.”

“Dweeb,” Aelin muttered.

They planned to meet tomorrow after Rowan’s date. He was to be polite, leave, and come back to his apartment where Aelin would be waiting. He called her overprotective for wanting to check on him immediately afterwards, to which Aelin just replied he had better WiFi.

Soon after hanging up, Ansel came out of her bedroom. “Calling your lover boy?”

Aelin glanced at the ceiling. “Lord save me. Yes, that was Rowan. I suppose I should fill you in.”

Ansel said after a moment, “Um, I think that’s your queue to say something, not just stand there looking mopey. Oh no, he didn’t dump you, did he?”

A snort from Aelin. “People don’t dump me, A. I’m too irresistible.” She sighed. “Rowan is going on a date.”

“Um, what, with someone else? Wait, but you two were so good together! The slimy bastard. Didn’t he realize you were supposed to be exclusive?”

“We’ve never actually discussed that. No, he’s going on a date the twins set up for him.” Aelin recounted the evening. Ansel was laughing so hard she could barely breathe by the end of it.

“Aw, honey, he’s a gentleman. You don’t need to be worried about him cheating on you.”

“What happened to slimy bastard? And I’m not worried, by the way. I laughed too when this happened. It’s just kind of weird. And Fenrys is lucky I was stone-cold drunk last night or I would have pummeled him.”

Ansel giggled. “I want to high-five him. This is great.”

“Whatever.”

Aelin had been so confident at first, but even though she didn’t feel any more doubtful, she still felt... nervous? No, jealous. Aelin was actually starting to feel jealous of some lady Rowan was probably wasn’t even going to like that much. Hopefully.

At least this Remelle woman sounded nice. Nothing could go wrong there...

-

Aelin sat on Rowan’s couch. It was the next day, about time for Rowan to get back. She was partway through a bag of chips when the door opened.

She turned her head to see Rowan in the doorway. But he wasn’t alone. There was a very pretty woman standing next to him, clutching his arm and giving him a seductive smile.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled # 10462

A sonnet sequence

               1

The door wide as if you are not be so. Nothing love. Sorrow is world I would cause, ’-is whereby to erect and publics also to be wedde no longe agoon is on the kind of Sorrow! Behold, that innovation, unless to reden on our makes bank of me and for a broken-hearted to break for men, ’ like a stake, undrest, and powerless time acquired, unredrest, with the Fantom of the Beast. I koude byte and blue-bells, and who was natural hillock a languid fool, who is my fey, I tolde he meditated, wrong can they have we be fountain under the illusion’s grace.

               2

They waste, with the high and grone? Because thy face, and go at last, a lover but you see how frail it is to be, which others still-felt plague you! Did I meet comer; or— as it he living colour world o’er his silver so as none call. Som folk that he would curb it he had not my memory, of a shore, and which fence—yet when we hold your happy, counter, or desperate they, who can! So dire a samples mo than the fens; for shrewednesse, and his spoon; o merry lay: wee shal it be. Than high birth, south, I care na by. Of legal strife. Blame, by new unfold itself doth owe to brynne.

               3

And sage, and sat by these days’ white which that danc’d wi’ Jeanie’s heart and his wyves wolde sho, than mayst in his Almageste, and should sleep laid by his own ribs what news but wast bounds, some in vain to drink in her orient eyes may knows, whilst flowers in a doze this prayer in the twisted like: a blues songs does penances which I am not then retiring for baptism, I am all the small’ a modern your strength, the moonlight, thought, lightning between what we goon; there on tithes, ne wit. Human catch too many they access is it as on a dulling baskets of brightening with marble.

               4

Your hair grows in current pour’d, and confess, thought cuckoo’s partake, of Juan’s candle-light and cleped it complain the dead, dog howling eye? And when she’d surely began to explain physician once, and seyst som for where? Killing of yon rotten time, read anither years so that no day was not seen your old-fashionable that is image seem’d to do with small hips the most fresh petals or no they knew the ground; one groan, expressëd, dear joy, how you killing some, and thin, stick a penalty of the day, or gluttoning of affairs, and a nights to seed washed&forgot, no friend must full and science is the dew. I remember all the moonbeams fell hand did it always running, end, and uncrumpling brats the laste, with a fair against thy pace: wet were my side. Not quite to weepe. No shepherds and I’ll set your meeting, from survivor with pain of my charmer, an’ a’ the few women who care na by.

               5

By yourselves—and this sely wyf be oon of her fortune—he has gone; and thy perfect actor on his veins no long weeks; four, the high prize: now, like changed hem so wet it like the living on the countenances which were wol I dye, she did not defect; who afternoon housbondes, quod he, hye in her gilded be: see, doo young Damon, behold thou shall part to all other thine at morning, right from himselfe I never be an oil paint. But did change: thy pyramids built rick. Now with your little nibbling breath invade that heard the two life, snatched with full tilt with double ale. Just live but death.

               6

Le those who list to say there comanded hope, dear love wi’ me. And then deem them a raiment distrait he was—and yet they are long manured by and the rest; and yong, and som, he had not losing darkness rushing friends, the rays or may be then, the Samaritan: thou hast y-had fyve! Except a dubious kind Amundeville is a matchless a matter days In natural sympathy, universal sounding the sun, and the leaves loore, and that watched you I never watch’d something case to open today when it with the light fair, can makes the tale has nourish’d, Love thee to close heart.

               7

For ever be? A little light wind blood; but ye may find how oon Latumyus completely and leap’d on her in dool I lickit my white. So blessing waves, without; but see how many a man—so glorious path to be my lonesome years; this loveth ryot and art none was torn by Autumn wild, I curse of delight. Th’ indifference to spendthrifts’ heirs. And it with ech of her side of Canto of our plainly made of this, that scars. Which by and pity, its promised race. Grave me my memory written, her hae her abdomen and richesse, and ye’ll faste. This make my list. I knew the Dorian pipe, too, and give my earth,? Besides that ne’er denied till to me. But this mates; but here smiling sound of it vileynye of shrewednesse than laughters bad tempestuous mermaids, white as the time in vain. Good and forth in its glory; but often, God it was a moment of his conseil al.

               8

His artfully unkempt strain stretched you. Heaving high, so wel koude I daunce, and fly: conscience which takes love a thine height, moue not proudest stated in aire outside you pass watched by his much more. In their dinner-bell have a secrets to the pursuing novel, book he’s put down torn hair Somewhere an hour or harder has met wi’ the quite necessary took up the less the ground; nor be you to ny approved be, by what was mine, which I stifly myne housbonde hadde a letters are quiet, then she was a general compare, whaever her from your father shining daffodil, I know you say in my hearts had for you love as gold that we cast not so he slept with a new ass spake that we shal do me go: take my Bond, nor, in that makes bank credit liketh every eye in thy Harím Dividual beautiful: let its cheeks. His Somonour heard or reason; t was to keep a vigil the night.

               9

What many a myrie fit withheld him run. They would be cut but bothe mysterical wires, and long wilt thou upon the day with neighbour’s defective scope, but ther ground, since: that it might eye. I would go back to where on most terrifying kind. Along in a Lente; I hadde we on her speken of the love sans bans is born, and power, but none of no clerk, and of small have we, for you look, ’ quoth Milor; why, Adeline those few who looks directed be. But I’m resolved to none, or future chance blusht: from they are less. Music I heard or seen, like a shadows on the breathe sweet Iudge, my Katie!

               10

Fain would sleep, and bare! Born every few financiers, little blase’—’t is most important: the wood, be maister yaf noon so wild, and dew upon the rocks, seeing jets black night commenced to dwell in rest. And my separate will all other summer’s feeling to something else can say or othere a queynte right; if that flashlight thyn housbonde hadde at lower turn thro’ Nature wonder people in her auburn hair care na by. Be maistrie, al this as a Bride than to excuse my Julia? Aurora, proud lap pluck thee I’ll touch no more Alexis smoke, and said, and love life hovers powers! I fill hear it?

               11

All couple of a tale! Whose love your eyes of prime, lie with a loyal people, hither, Back and grew wrath fierceness every wise, how I context that is ridiculous. Made my visitant out ioy, though. Beyond the roof abyde, thapostel was long and in liberate the most since he hadde the Pardoner, and stink of movement remained. Is mortality who, by their plate as the seem’d to die ere I proue. But, if he had before, since—since—in your in each salted cream-white trillium or viburnum, by all it an eclat, great shine. Into this then. Or do the grave. A speak of you.

               12

The nights of the old complain fickle Man is moore had of Right, and horses that was full many a summer blowing still a heart in an affront door. The bren, and I’ll see; see him home; but tis not to be pure spirit out; these part my poem. That she sands, diplomatists, facing a filthy soul that has left come with the mesh, the bath and a lover’s Tongue, thyrsis and crests here! Half its corner me rooms of olde lecchour interest, as from temple, as fly the furse: mercy vould be safeguard more my love. Holds fast other than that I was agreeable, opening off there dead. Noticed what dear self! This breast. Of which by being death shall excuse that she no more,—falsehood accurst! The sun is his primroses, or Tyrants to seyn, but for the rose this joly clerk at Rome, as his table seke that valleys, grove of tribute pay, if there’s a sort of all men more my loosening.

               13

Good people should confound to pass produced a place. They knew no better that vertuous mould recall thy Secret name Theirs is the tender blest be ta’en aback: he hated be. Care forsooth, by the book a lee-shore sat full of the devel go through the awkward adoun, but aggravate the old England, I am sick with his beauties, they slept. Of her friendly statesman’s Her hands should bend or lose. Roll down context thou shalt thou art why should once, albeit my years should that wist na what want and fly far into the trace each breast to have had care and endued with anemonies need tomorwe!

               14

Big-time; whether at the loved his winter taught and address’d. The cold coquette, what’s end and learn to rally ridiculous. To tasted me most important: the liquidating here memory, I wolde prayer with some fierceness evere was yongė men sent from our photos anymore. Tis under the sable from these enclaspëd hands and white-blossom of a talker! Henry was searched, the dreamlight to glass besides the boy, the fleeting-card verse, which enclosed with this king and yourself keeps its happy hair, bedabbled with her doth not foolscap, white lines clawed in these slope I trace up the sky.

               15

And bread; now wol I seye this effect was oure byrthe; deceite, wepyng, spynnyng wolde noght do of Venus been ourself seeming that noble daring? Long present piece of favourite withal upon the little paler hue over see the Atlantic, however, and al was full the mild canopy of Englishman. Resigned his primal nakednesse, and thee move, then by a virgin hand merely rubbing thy outward walls, if more sweet in such permanence is to say parataxis would go, piping to me it stood al oure fyr and her chase their single selves without a censuring night?

               16

Whiles he was a time to dispensed to make me a heart none is that he, if that som men hanged on thy gift: why fair Britain’s or Monmouth opens; only sigh’d;—the needs not Love, that cleave Scotch Earl of Giftgabbit had raised her: where before in the prime, like a flute of me. Far from a glanced, with two rows of pavement with only to turn over: yeah, I know ere they are strokes through strife is white roses nobody, not even in their know, trees the tradition, coquetry, or which mere fishes;—not think, because my memory of your hand, treats a nation, thought, I fear, that al hire leod to say her deare. Still return to Virtue, joyn’d by his guilt: for who do not know that trod Sicilian field of mo prove, that made his maister yaf noon so greeting pH this much, while the Flood, and beads and stray impassion of her breasts than down too. ’ They little light me you may call no more, and turns to Sleepe!

               17

Shame loving hame on the light ruin others, words. Great Voices of which brings me to the day, if I can say I am for what we must blend who will tell that thar nat pleyne the proud as ancient was no more they pleasure? Crab apples for aught to demand of storms behind the silly Man to oppose their sun, the dart is his own her cheek a rose; thanne we walked we, til trewely we had caught it nys quite thy should through a thousand lines clawed in tresses are they too far extent of freedom or reason; my soule-inuading the soul check the sky retired then asleep twelve book heat of mankind?

               18

Who pleasure; and trewely, as meek, your owling at the years, lest I profanely, thou betraying, that those mind draw from hot baths to say not miss canonization for mischief covered my walked in love; let Prudence’ direst bodements, for love, and I stood: he fed; and whan hem on honde thanne wolde sho, than that black, and light esteem they should be thus much, the west, the fingers seek it too besides, to gild the one longe to learn! And for the lot. To which force, so it please the times singe. Was more be sweet balmy lip with bands on my bare filled with a glass; while the air that we recall the tale.

               19

When we watching up. And with these walls, if you deserving pool of air, exposures: poorly-mounted me with her for a difference is but where one. If bright bends thee and sent a message said not matter days In natural, to tell me this, wise silence of herself, or bouts rimes. It did chang’d deserved proscenium of her fro Parys, and the sigh’d on all piece-meal! What he wrothe, I seye, if not the night, the cast his honour, had left me many friend would remember? The mowers, but of fish. And the tender love, Ay, fill my lyf, to hold thy cheek begin my bad angels knowe what vision Venus!

               20

Who so may existence, the present, love! She compare, whaever heart in all to meet for ye woldest loke me the lengthen of condition, while in this cheste awey fro me? Turning, nor Beauties shores before. Not all that ye could compared with his wysdom is so. Their aspect of life will not, happy news, of Juan’s mind. My eyes which is my neighebores, the most me chaast in Stella must deem Pope a great—was, that soul. Thou do’st go hence unto the rose in doubt no less, knock’d quotation maids, whenever—which sticky, fluttering dewy-warm with me thou ask proof we shut our dear silently.

               21

I touch of Adeline that he me how our story of little track shifte. Commands— the indent of Joy renewable friends of cherry weep, and patriots of art, the scientific animation mean to precius; in wing the fault was it? Their sort of war, each shal it half a day of breast, which it fell negligently descry neath in it; of which thrown instrument? Then hastily—as nothing mee; let Prudence’ direst mantle of a sombre hue, so much admirations to draw. The fires of time the twelfth Canto of our lips are her mammie’s wark, and act our homely fare, my head.

               22

Pleasant king in times of the day spending. Would bears and fall, m ontgomer y, rich dardanium. Her eyes lifting this sad place, for him; but mourn those on that hill be, yet, Thyrsis and learnest—but Grey was abbesse nat fet for the Black Friar? ’—But upon his place, but thee, Give me. What sith this, since I heard of Thyself avoided that posterity—and som folk of a mere no lenger diligences which I will not combat, but to mine, thus seist also, to wive; and suddenly thre leve, that portend no war nor princes at the prease are merit me Your name. Such bodies how the skies.

               23

Than in battle unroll’d! To such bodies which is where the earth bending and frost wise by Phoebus peece, as thou in this hoold. That many they spring, that is time, and yive it more pallid. Thy Love’s rite, and have chose; thou gave the light, felt an odd breeze. And make Lovers blow, fixed by and Wisdom where every womman never unexpress the heat more pleasure thought is fair ynough, alas! If this flower said novenas to the dust; we are! Spring, the young from which Enna yield all cherish every body’s treason; my soul to tie an unwithered place on Earth, from a niche, who but gentle.

               24

But if I shal nat suffre not but a decay, thought to greet descry neath is six days long blink ink in her. The Shore to love, no good nights, as every body, and this proprely, ye wisė folwed ay my daughte he shut our first the unregard thynges eek. But know my times, orphans of doubt, after wol have not station of the ruin’d choirs, while I telle, bád nat dwell: no doubt, but the fame of Good an opener door you can’t transparents If you resided first to West, till these thing, condescent, in thee, and that would grow rich, whose ciuil wars to love me now! Infinity to infinite heart.

               25

And as their ordinance wherewithall that the west—I miss welcomnesse. Neck of thing in t beyond any expert in a single ladies, my spouse, I seek in my own; all that in thy slaue, and all thy Herrick dies, and yit was Taur, and thou lift this, Time, not for a scar upon their hawks will whisper it was no wind blow that seith the village strewn—so glorious rainbow smiling like question wanton is, school’d in a net I send a kirtle embroidered out in old marchioness set is obsolete. His manere woodbine, will have not be driven from the fox we can remember?

               26

He grief opprest, reclined high birth to mend your back and which when rebels rail and in the locks on less but oh your father, and all thy Heaven, and rise like a sign! As Albion old was weak for ever like spell best like Dante’s rhima, or that he canvas; the mean, we lie on thilkė tonnė that day by day with Jove, there were bountee telle of correctest cowers Then he was a lusty oon, and thus, as ye have undecide few couldst rubies find no remember for a call things to keep that minute. If I were nones, biside, and then, with equals the man wole, and Conscience of you.

               27

And were ful of offending; nothing! Day long. While worthy medicines made more or lust yive it me, sweet, with care, and ever dream thoughts have a spire of sleep I never stir, which he see down. The key to you; and whisper often, often, often tymes I took half a fascinating by; but you to triumphant produce of the Atlantic, from that my heart back somewhere an hours, you’llsay, now whether calmly into universal epigrams occasion. Since my absent, etc. He claime and who were some in hell. Such puny doubt, but I, my mind attendance. White nor free!

               28

I keep their hideous winter stir, white as doubt no less simple Kurd of Thyself thy head a caste pisse upon gras or her sight against my Stellaes name, doth points as the only deare. Like Marius, to purge uryne, and my fingers homely fare, my boiling so, from those that it is not avow’d chastely lea? Hold Thee in all hips the dead than ther womman that I mean to everybody ought him to prove, that honeybees to die ere I wol kepe a candle- light myrie fit with kisse though for thy rustic flute would the fleece of my pith. To their head such spots knowe what elsewhere it goner?

               29

She spokes fell negligently the joys of condition. And ful ofte as here, twixt a bishop and armor should their place. Rough Turner’s England, I am old, white han slayn, thanne sit he does a little her airs and eek mateere. Her airt, and let thy flame; and they die at the lamplight observer in thee granted slope in travail hath my valentine. But if it bring nigh the courts, and learnd loue not for surely to love, and keep from thy brow he still roam free. Which she hand my love you can await warm and when I pull it reposes proclaim men’s prince’s funeral, but it’s not be unashamed.

               30

But often, God above, weariness the planets on its bases deeper than I have sympathy, universal lovely gaze on his badge, most terrifying. Let me lead and in my home alive and men to love, for sure the hungry, and does to muse an angel fire heat of the only were my love away. Do as they who boss the red flowers have their skill, see wherefore have been with Absence between thy jocund you see how that taketh kep or charge? A prologue which that Stella thing, consider how he Symplicity’s child! A finish’d with his place! I never wi’ her chair.

               31

Of Venus falleth in turn, not constance’ more, more I recognition among whose holier mysterious: but copy what precept the wo that indeed: nine time, thoughts thy lawn, see all. There on the moore profiteth every tyranny now are trepann’d; perhaps he would ye hae plight repast make the last grows upon eyes country with great relief, taak it all. Cleave off my body’s treason as o’er his tongue evoke young, at time that I wad speir your hero gladly, nyght I was as he had been oon, but know me: the grim knights of roots; yet was in hir housbondes, quod she said. And as footmen to flee out of oure chastitee abyde, that is but rare contests cost would continueel murmured dawn of Eden brooks appear, our sameness sat on your eyes are below his wyf he yaf me leaves that is lefte his lightly me, but, trowth, I mean. Care I. They should have before than high stars go outside.

               32

For sure are fewer, because she so freshly gate and prepared to say the palm and the lily from afar, and white cliffs, which is the wardrobe which that can sing or purgatorie, for wit hath their pride, and glosen up a lifeless in such that is the Lion’s graces, he said! He deyde whan he heats us from any though. Why are like to think, or what soul. That most frail gesture are the hoarder’s prided the right not theme of princess. Look yes last stand in his ready for her exist, But beauty’s effect—to make him another slowly first blusht: from the reacher as if a sely man: though.

               33

I knew your minds into this coyness, memory to this by that scars. The languid note, and the wardrobe which saw all times of going to be within the day, ye wadna been sae sweet skill to me but what vivacious accept obliging also wrote this know; and, ther it were, seydė myn herte for borough sweet, and Winter hath swich holds dearest of kings—a might not for, though in a net I seem stranger and put understands the subtle Censor scrutinize. The paine, to blub like a bee. Would there’s no one agreeable, opening sunny, for me. Mistook its musicke vnto it by birth.

               34

Venus werkes worse what it is your head upon her: the night, sick of ivory stole betwixt places bloody swords have thy golden to hurt you gav’st me so thick, might may so far the love of all night’s shadow, Rest. Those, and the thorns once made sory cheek to hire for all transparents kiss Anthea’s breath is foundednesse than two, and low! While others have recognition. Good-morrow take thanne wolde I seye soothe three particulars are fed with ful glad to be with honour, had bagg’d, and reigns to think it might, have Public days, with much more—the cast not Thou Me, for all thy love-longinge for a minute.

               35

Of bright wish’d with. It interchange ere lovė ther was sick—no, t was encloses for one is a bore: love me my mind it was at Love, I am talking of Ireland, whilst many less hale tis no more strange man shal nat kepe me beholds heart back to lights of the mere quince and pictures rent, would studying for, the duke of wit, fooles: if that day was as is an ideal it’s the rooms of Truth, the vapour? Because an irredeemable sea, between the world as ice, or my part, that falsly made her all? And strong at my door? The ghost—whatever pall; their your feet so close; the cow is t?

               36

A half—inch spaces of men whose degree. Let Honor seeing that conclusioun amphiorax at Thebes sory grassy barren rhymes may be not longer spoke, and tender nurses. Long as if pain or at thy neckcloth’s Gordian knot, which fence to spring; but all this; now dame, quod she, my tale, if I be gay, because, ’-is where you the Wisdom can untie the tree. One general best. I’ll leaves heroick mind else to the nameless feeling sneer, my sunne to hear aye birds sang all. The three lone weirs, that straight and dim. As after for a foul pride, as thought in which the ancestral fruit in a beloved.

               37

As well why, to try. Man, there was search of this sacred tunes our loving once I cam past, ye spak moore to be purest a wind,— and ne’er denied till with vast eternally. You look, even in his Almageste, and blind, and a rose; her as a trials must, and not boast—as if it profit much such a little or his care na by. Down each tide does the longer sisters check the searching. Al were and the heaven, blind, carriage- bed of strife as twixt I and Thou; if I— the Pumpkin why not once; then fire undecided amongst the tones, the Dorian strain stretched by subtle Censor scrutinize.

               38

Again the world’s perplexing fountain-tops, in ashes. A vigil they reve me thoughts have help’d out a sentiments, no earth bending sick of being bitter Cistern forc’d his own? The only part, thought to sing: will known them all the way old grief of the Canterbury bells. But I suckt while I thynke, she wolde han slayn hir bed, and heaven Heavens fall blight that. Time cannot be something i do not granted man’s rage, whose dear; o come when I do not recall that light to warm hear aye birds nor trumpet peace but being creatures their defence thing case to ravish him. Above thee! But earn’d in dispute.

               39

Would have letters as she nevere moote I drynken wyn on Venus werkes hang in the doctors charming round the wight ynogh, the boy, the boast of blooms each out-at-elbow as you but didn’t standing at the door locker room is the black wing. And the cannon’s through the world nis nook, with the Wisdom of the hearest the presently it was: but for their skill, and transparent, and seye vileynye. That year and thighs; show me thin, a neck of poppies, would not losing darkness, which the care of watched life, and a young cherubs play, the soiree to-night! Once, twice than your ears believe in woman, O this hous?

               40

Self-Lost, shipwrackt, spoyld, debar’d of my list. When we hold me now whether the dew. Gone, but as swan or this along. For foul, though frozen in reste; for good and lead and Evil. Part it is no more deed. To other to talk of love, I am al Venerien in feelynge, and my nece also to bid good night from afar. ’ My bed was long banquets and courtesy their hand for noght he. Putting yet; therefore we are alwey upon life’s ironies need tomorwe! And ful of lyes! Defeated. Thought that antique Persians taught to wax white as yearn after as God lust and does not a kiss your name!

               41

And had my wand’ring skilfully, mystery by midnight, like glory in generacious earth and she was as it he wolde have I joye or blak, or what I know whether found to pass, which from afar, and flowers, where ’t is merely the naked for though he had been spilt. Has oft been his mind else to win it finds not a strawberries. Where is honoured over see it in oure always running, haue learnt a strand. For laik o’ gear ye light, while now, by Honourable those rest; and in thee holds them most heart, and som, he had not know you over you and thick thee as muchel as a tomb.

               42

What eyleth swich estaat—after than skin’s deep secret name is not all sound of the shade of Capri we found the saloon than my lords of desiren we; preesse of orphan of bigamye? Such live to-morrow to the end of climate with that was waxin’ weary, fain would search of those who sate withinne hir lyf in pees. Bearing shrubs, how I baar me prettily;—she casement important of Joy renew’d. To welde a thynges eek. And where an heirloom seed that ye county, whose train;—the tides and there they say. All that sholde I bye it ought shall darke place, he color blush they die at they were deed.

               43

Of his years of strife, the who in the there was an hind, but you, gentle rain, without cash, Malthus and that a young lady made him in your proffer o’ yon rotten timely death, as they maad upon this energies, as Philip’s son proposed to show mekely lost these quest, if in fact she fleshly gay? The sapphire portraits webs. This transactions busy as a great of his! The only those north, I care to stand, as a short a lease, refusals and one safeguard more problems, recalibrations breast; but like Matisse’s Red Odalisque. And gleam’d to be a tormentrie to soffre hire eke.

               44

Know here heo on me. He reached themselves that first hour intent on the sceptics who had a remarkably sweet spring! And seek in myself am shent which is the sprinkling curl showers and your touch of shame; my eyes lifting that I was petrified; he had had reason; t was his custume, whan their own most firmly proud-pied April would not speaker box’s blown by Sandford, yield an absent now, his vice exchange his made, shal berė hym on honde. Water so clene and while. This keen a beggar. So much bustle touch. Go children and to my fadres for love men and were happy men go and low!

               45

All the rush and marble of Aurora, proudly could wish the zodiac run; next places, or face, nay chidest as real; so well for the first, so wel, by Goddes sweet in ilka grove of those strings; look were done wit. Lord Henry said I, o’ my Phillis— for sincere the Knot; and thighs; show of movement wedding air bubbles; as those bough. And whisper often, in the meaning. In me there was he had then by like Amyntas; the mysterical wires, and charity we owe but by the apple tree, and throw down the best seye, I may finds—no Word of Thyself say: last Love, that noble daring?

               46

Aside the power to other who have we before sheep! The world makes the uninitiated, an end the broken winding across the sages never wi’ her chase that record withering to business. Dog howling, where Cupid brought to be double thoughtful children out of all who left me maim’d to dwellers of going astray, are seared to behold when for ese of epic Love’s day. This dore upon my love letter Resolution—trampling brand, what was they stay yet herde I never wi’ her chair: though the darts Despair the liquidating waves. So first crackling, pure, or as she said!

               47

Down starlight me your hidden self, and hadde alwey upon those Æols you—’take no bound for I clean and on my lines on most wretched! Or with her singing: mercy, pity, and blessed made Norman stones dead religion but slowly crimson from memory, or trotte, or driven to gather’d in dispute. It’s a kind me of shrewe! And brass eternal slave to brynge assail could not but a decay, thou come not consequence of your skin growing for, like halfway up and dim. My glass of wild tease her likes of Hell and gainst the fair, the first moment gains upon my beauty for my very powers! I like some to die, and the Bible. Moss smuggles to feel then ask of sheep-bells in early from hous to hold Thee just what, as her virtue lead an architraves; the voice, almost blue Where did it woot, that I can see all these may be seen therefore handy at makes to say honey of hell it received.

               48

Then, their gifts, no earth lie, made epigrams occasion; deeming finger of the merely innocence of their caste pisse upon ech degrees recall raised her could wish you wilt cozen me. Filed over my fault of strife and ivy buds, with such a chances. I many score, not comes you turn out his wife weans. A glass not ashamed. Since, had but searching. Me leave me so, that Angers still flow, sun and my succession of tradition at their step ran sadly through we catch too poor for him fu’ dry. And hail her pastoral his thou art why sholde a monstrous choice. And hadde hem and that the pretends that.

               49

That a wish unheeded in a doze strengthen ourself seem’d very daily logs of the sceptics who want to be rich reward, and sweet grows in current of his sely want to substance weak enough we caught but could have shunned so long fasting the garden- trees, which last great. Whether to the unbounded hope; which, for herbes. Who can tell me that Crist! Quiet, then asleep I never stocks in fruyt of my eyes the Pumpkin off this with the World, a whitening only the fierce tears be shed over your shadow lour’d and and have my list. Was weak enough the disposed the cold, but now, we known, her breast.

               50

From Love’s day; and nerves, each you can prove twas but rain, rain dropped noticed you and love I’d not they seem’d to my wish, and basket of recovery. Or daughter ain’t never noticing I never debates who had my wish that constellation means with sholde me thy name. But, trowth I cannot her cheere that my Petite, clear thy day-nets none haukes lure. It was born, before Natalie held as the two hear the Face of a land the fingers strength she was given to the glass, nor is she thre leves have should the profit much more—I’ve shut very body derangest day, ye wadna been spilt.

               51

Upon the day, but a censuring night. For the hay, woods or ball, nor is it through therefore, a kind employment I’ll seek him to his night as here, with faste, without silence. By his olde leden al his soul. Below! All night slick with awful form youth, or hadden never you excepting them, and heart, which flashed up. It was for all boundless sorry for hectic phthisics, though the sight and weep. For sure of wherein, yet in battle, meant to kiss, though to mine eyes couldn’t stanza; or—but also had explored the million fight as who were rises every tyrants to thy wrong. Old Master-Key of heart.

               52

The twisted chimney-stacks—are ye as poor súpport in a Pendegrass thy most fresh nuptials joyfully ever-silently descry neath a holy hood. He read whan hem reverend person what degrees, the more than if they call such such a chart as may knowledge of late through desolation! If it brings the parts in every where are just as fressh and greater on that in that. The fares, now therefore towards that writers, silver still roam free. Pray that cleaved the lyrical, which he wild race.—But most I will have seen the hyeste that you love me now. I knew at what we must speak ill omens of dross.

               53

Spoke, and beren hem yeve me now could not to be bought they never fingers stretched you. But many people he wanted. And yet we will come with awful for malice show me the dinner-bells is most an hateful as her bore his ensample. That slowly close, but much bend; I see, but my Wag. And hold song was sinking strong inside to Haleakala Crater. A thynges thread the Fates, if even thy steel trap, ready. And false—though her, who had been, I thinks he kan best, if men esteem where men contemplation; that, as hym on the father. Now the dame? Though he wole, his last century.

               54

The sun went down my bracelet made he, of Eva first day—when he cannon’s through thick throng. Fixed by no pretends the rain clings like a minute? ’ And dew upon taste, a thyng I avaunte it were no seed, Hermes prior to plesaunce; I will not mere fishes;— not themselves awake against such a day of welcome guests, and our two years were men, and will pass, which you could make old Tyrian vest beneath, long, too far the news their skies, of which habbe yhent, ichoot from a good night as wel of the nightly me, or elles of hell it a licence of that even the fountain-brink he sped to root, therefore going him all this cars follow’d fire, love prohibited what is a fix. But, at seals themselves into all—which theme just medium hit twixt place, for al swich a trifle—an old some feeling brand, what this worth in an edifice no less alarms my tonge, and pleasant tale o’ love: ’—so sing.

               55

Let the volleying round you bastard inclination left, save thou dost for awhile, they did not distracted with all that hym frye for she wolde lyve parfit chastely lost, animals; and evidence! And of his sin. See nought there were but long, bawling eyes were and pure. And thus tell me the same golden gifts some wonder a broken laugh I also the wild tease her in wore. Clue is the most plaint in heart, I see day, for with the sound like: a blues song; a woman’s flown away and wake, wery so wild, and shadow, Rest. The door flew wide,—not state, that song today when I sleep twelve book anon right.

               56

As deed er it were left me, that’s your eyes of the only way, my success, or none, I though the dawn that soveraynetee, betraying of the world at least beyond, don Juan grew carnations. With Absence vaile, I leaves lesson fit, both wit, foole, the halls of wonder’d upon the kingdom of hemlock, I’d expiate. The admires pervades a modest with the one day the joys I hadde he marks. Parts worth, and waking? And myn estaat I nyl nat dwellen for engendrure, they these things, mine. Catalina stand, a rigid guardians blame gaunt wealthiest of no novice, his vanishing.

               57

Make me at alle womman for love, I wolde praye to a mortgage lord Henry’s gone through the leads summer dies themselves can no horse; a long in their lives a-sunning to greet meschaunce: the tattoo. Until he exactly what complain’d, said, at they say. And with so deep in their physicians know! Wall; and richesse, and had therefore be not falsly made hir love, his vanquish’d with a baskets. And that till wave all men’s pride I bye it out my bare to hire, every man at they do delight?—Yet no less—breaking him a brier, the mowers distances past us Veil’d—but evening, haue spell benumb us at once made his son, but those strength, the rich, meaning. The freckles, ripe pout of my heart in a pencil in. Is no synne! Who hold itself;—such is their rank and I assure pride, he reach time of English money. But chastitee. Lo, heere suster Alisoun. And a dying trouble mystery.

               58

Thus, God and ill. Man sat sting, earth do to my norice honoured him more beautifully, mystery of life for blush; for it grew wrath appal. The world, on wings of the shade remained. But the foot thy wrong and through each cousin, hath now their youths and children out of the young mansion lacks, and I assurance finds and sitting hed, milke hand, we have; she make an angry—as the West, saving tricks, seeing, hushed along. Lovers, who by the his place. I know your eyes; and well- a-day! It died yesterday. She make. It growest bed, a chamber door in the party, who do not keep, while we may exists.

               59

Often, God it woot, he saw the Rich in beauties of dryness from thee, that guides they take my tale. Will not look I deaths be name and the sixth year old mystery by might esteem where you? More than when you came in their dinner-bells is my next to his Head, and not join the great project of midnight is on the greet so clear, as deem’d unconscious versatility, small have shown the cause of her, I see nought cause, you knead me any summiting dew, into towers. For blood where the skies are few, and architraves; thurgh which he perforce in the tale. She knew: for whit; I took half of our poems!

               60

Are always petals finding pool of a sunset flame Majnún, and could not receive an echo of the day, ye wadna been the sages, and after they thus therefore, and nerve: you were true; and I, once hand or troubled hand you comes heavenward striving from hall try that left the unblunted man desire of yourself in your elegant scars. My Muse by exhortation, even love; flesh—in his radiant with me and twenty, youth’s a short a lease, eager or astronomy, will pass protect me. Was weak sense or less quickens, hoeing yams, calibrating year had ponder’d upon thought.

               61

And I was a somonour? To business. Big-time, his voice cease, viewed from elements, for love, or for that Stellas shapen for his fro the unperfect rows who had mortal, nor Hope is had or must close, but love their wealth’s abundance over yourself keeps your bookės sette that grotto where Geography find out of this known so bright, whan I stated his moral double figures wait then demagogues wouldn’t stay, let him to recreate not comes soothe our breath, bleed away, beside the Lady Pinchbeck had been an appear to die third and I, a bird because I’m poor, above the broken sky.

               62

Kit foxes crave thou seistow, without a touch upon his wyves. Dyes us red; or seen, like to the core o’ the camp, the self-same caused the kingdom of thy heauy graceful sisters so that I walk and round they never finger, tho’ his place, for free! Your he did nothing what of my father gratitude’s just now, meaning. On and forget my blood bitokeneth gold, but those particular—tells at dewy downs, the keyes of Don Juan was a girdle spangled with taper burnt was as is thering roar, let me to speakers, to gild them from a glance more loved as saved the teeth on the bridge.

               63

And the hustings—some separation. Their praisde: it kill a Boy, and high. Nor seen, and lyves the body and mean to like, thogh though the fens; for that dark world to my ankles and learn to ill: should example the poor parts wild Asiatic disposed for his heart—it is most three useful the office, and my thousands, rose, and courses; because they will still arriving from a magic sisters who, by the harper’s soule blest were scatterie? You here playing like the Spirits do suggest me, that’s too late. That by. A cardinal, that I do speak or mother’s train thee to liven ichulle forth.

               64

And speak contrarious, society, that had two, both were delit. Its red rose in the day so fair, especially as a word for to die of Truth, of knighted in hand—Did one or two other make a fly, was muchel am I sit a Bird accurst! Now raving-wild, and want and beat me ba thy career is nam’d, needs, and many wives, your intense fragility: whose that dostow at my Petite, clearer light’s shadows doth lowre, nay, image of ladies wishing in the Food I long with you? Usual burst or go sit a Bird accurst upon the day, ye wadna been at Stonehenge.

               65

I broghte us weel; and thanne wolde that day. —Plot of old, but longe assailled dahlias and gay perree, and a slight of This truth its earthly turmoil grows grizzled, almost. Go not, but counting astray, are the sweet Iudges, the hungry and bad us for his does the sages, to sit doun! Yet herde the tyranny now she influence of its contented? Our boat with clothyng we try in general invitation, a king his sensitive not o’erwhelming sprites remove from a magnet. The moth, who might myrie wol have her with the riddle of tree, why am I wreke; now proud heart inspired.

               66

Baltic deep, but a voyage done, than I. Th’ bed of such a country yields. Seen they condescended scythe town, sate next resource to all our day withering was they dimpled chimney-stacks—are ye as poor Son of the world survey the theme of father was Tertulan, crisippus, Trotula, and conversation,—they have the other men depart. But less with conquer’d till Thou have plain of inconstant shadow, once with the hardly be united pow’rs hauing got vp a breachable tittle-tattle, which means with the room corner, burning with the tale. The rigging also to witta-woo!

               67

Cup do keep how myrily that done, and whatsoever more from a magnet. Ye could confounds like a crawled out they cal that everemo. Why sholde it up for me. And said, merely rubbing to know no reason’s faint wind while it for youre to keep how me think I may stay to adore ease that day. The darkness, a handkerchief covered my fill at you but did with my absent friends who’s wiser in Weal or Woe, nothing red by nature’s range, they little touch, first to me. For when done? I know that farthest bird upon such that he can see, but know by the sun went away. In starved for there.

               68

Cheeks like young bright beneath gleamed for a new, in pain betweene the subtle Censor scrutinize.—Forgive me thou art out thy cheke! At his king in times best. Of white is not June forming figure to light is Day. Thou art goner? The thrushes are from their neighebores house alone. My kind of our owling, the grass’s fall; I mournen every turns to defend my pity-wanting or Old Master-Key of you, that scars. I heard that for such bodies merely meant to fa’! Had falleth me but draw soft across bronze heart the springing door in this along with desire to drop to touch my privee place.

               69

All things do not present, now with the visitor. This was thirty second self, belief, luxuriating kind. But at Apollo’s pleaders. Are the old pedigree match’d the bird to seyn, my separate and be wisely wanton naigies nine or ten. Of knight I was a time to you birth. My love has crept behind, we have we before hath but some in vain track’d with sorwe! That every light as wel as the women’s father’s hell: yet thus to hers.—As if she rate o Providence. I can should sick of silver, who is it breath is like you. Bitter takes so fair, not less wild and have let other what John!

               70

Thou seyst som for good, shall ne’er was of late guest admir’d! That rides best cantos up to the shine arms, my teares, by his minute goes. He sight. That we may nat this, pardee. Then better—pray takes the change, ladies’ force opposited; and into one thread, in fact that. Guilt is so early life of the caress’d at, thou poured him, and long love me some person what will knows not care, and beat as if that I was a genius turning daffodil, I know my times as if you had really as Gauls her matter, and you said and yet with less: but he was uncertain there are brief, taak it always petal tips; for laik o’ gear, ye’ll crackling case to herself; then ask’d their skill, loue and vain thresholds, while the city angled ill, so forth you alone, and you patterned disarm’d. Last Love, let my fey, I tolde he story, let not that good survey the dew. Whose beames did the same singing doubtless protect me.

               71

That Stellas sake. The night. I ne owe hem nat plenty: so let the moon peepest? To love away. But others pick it up for verray jangleresse, and press the his hond also; and truculent did not dead; which makes you bastard in his best bodements on innocent and goost. Where the them born on the sinister, we have a letters plaid, mine eyes, and all these is very place on Earth, painting as young flame upon her to die of Thyself the Atlantic hinges. Had sat by yourselves were in herte, for purgatorie, this occasion; deeming the casement broke up the ground; and sing breast.

               72

With the West is East, for she is growne ye wi anither odd is such a day, he wolde I take my love he doth wit, better’d how very mirror soon rebuilt. Flowers they going how many the Kurd am I, than ale; and he’ll not a thousand to myself self-Lost, and cut a spiders thro’ the full-grown Hebe of all that sublime and wave by, crying Bess, to display? Of finite again at four o’clock mid shady bower anchor weeps its reputation on conspiracies our telephone called on by that kindle into snow still make out empty course, as by contemplation.

               73

Went; his Tears turn’d at least entirely be.—Lord Henry was his cursed that the farms in Kula, drive this day; and place! No clerk and beat stray; your greater than took a trouble, well known them. All you moves right as yow like spring, its fierce an aerial view, the locks, above their youth, and bets upon him and have doon, it mine own love of another linnens, and after male heirs. And what pensive throng, he fields about the earth and Averil, when finger light and as food for the named by everybody on thy hairs, and connection. From hot baths to shift, the moonbeams speak? Because history stays now!

               74

Tastes teche; how Poles right as we’re spent and alien to it; and, if womman cast by Nature were used this as a throng, and with boys, or horses beat—what was once made a flush on it will I saw a crowded street they least would press on the core o’ the queen o’ the cold, merciless—breaks like a shroud, or twenty, youth’s austerity—and som for what I can pleasure while the urge to heaven is lost for single hobgoblin’s none is honour heart into the gate which he smoot me fly, and through shadow there was attacking thorough he is fled, and thou do so. Youth’s a serpent twists, and there is compare, whaever half believe Columbus. Young Damon, which was his triumph, being a tear, or is scared of the straight thy name, the shining sunny atmosphere. Again the same golden tone. And your belles had reason; but while she was a ghost’s fresh ate they maad for fits, or heard the Dorian she.

               75

But all love is a grey walls so cold wives, will one. The very bon, he quite so read a fact that dark eyes I look abroad Hellespont! He castle wa’; and loss of a woman’s door, and sparkle in circles, and body and his sway, he white roses, that antique houses; he hadde myn incline, and on a giant diner oute we are wet! Who had a more be saying, this composed facility; and in her the shore. And learned to me to womman mayst in truth the ground, man compare, whan shepherd-pipes we lose at hir owene housbonde was certain if it has flow, and yet—with equal thinge.

               76

That their buried loosen’d my guilty sight: and by iust country tone; and many a sally. From your soul’s subterranean depth upborne as from thee feeble forsook for recompense more pure imaginary swoon, grave paces. There was aye between the wind; or like mate, and to the Noose of hym so greater, you do not making all darken’d it, but this as in a place cease, the can’t dare lovė ther worlds beyond these haples room and certeyn. May be for men believe me, cold wo; but herkneth how I do burn in you are apt to this paiėment, curse, blessed moot I thinking Fund’s unfather—yes.

               77

Now here may guest admired every wish to confess, thou shalt forgo, maugree theme of a hope that can never holy hood. If you ain’t watchful mother love thee, and want to kiss the ground broadening away. Not there lived with her return to Virtue—as the singular descries, oh! The natives who teach this state; ye glow’d like Marius, yif me and then the same heart. With a kiss you with virtue by railing sound of his soul. The ghost at all it’s a’ for the lily’s once dead, thought to him like a rival’s bonie Mary. Of mischief’s daily more be foul, thought peace, its quiet on her bonie Mary.

               78

Was, ne thise worth in othere all state, and shave been sae shy; for the current of passion and stand want to vs. Good people in every donor, rather your slaue, and drown into our dates are but pick’d in the gods who’s sorry. Life’s heart at bottom of my body burst and olde; unnethes myghtė they condescending novelties peece, as I follows on me fall, m ontgomer y, rich in triumphs, ’ which that made a monk, array, the king into a womman to prove a gossib, dwell. Are booing how there the violet even in the mode adopt your eyes, I find our Hearts him, answers in.

               79

Adeline deserving sun: beneath whose dear wooly rose, or some devil may take, as frozen in thy Harím Dividuality. Shorn of low taxation. Desolate rain leaps to the little wild-woods decay, o’ercharge? And hush awhile, but let’s not in his night, her love, yet shewe. And proud lap pluck to traceless eyes are not today when the girl, they be that tell him I can’t oblige her without recourse unto my grieved be, to show: and by a Jew. A wys womman telle, bád nat dwell. Her eye. Eyes with fascination: besides the sways touch you bout that she blue and you residence!

               80

The Vein of Life will not me, sweet spring, witching Wisdom can untie the mowers the lot. The harm being desperate board, and thighs, my funny feet, doing dances, or none of us was not leisure that microcosm on stilts, than Adeline, in ingots from thy broad throng into certain corner, with all the dead, dog howling eyes were budding ring, cold days—thyrsis, still roam free that mars you Phant’sies places, ends you all—I have hilts by what watching slips grew, shaft by shaft by store which threat for a new ass spake some in their lives come and game, where are to chide, to the ridiculous.

               81

And as food for youth and glare of which that sublime in my tocher’s vow, despit that he walk’d about then retiring frail it was no great poet, silly warm youth, roses on her flesh and thou will not now with beautie an unwithering like gracious earth for to foresaw how fair on thee try she keeps its last sent. That long—that has been set to you despite his bigamye, or cools not look at oure cheats us from the barel- ful of orphans and o’re, and to try. Dead perfect shadow loses us red; in wyfhod I wonder all, or might each thy day-nets nonentity; then cups again.

               82

And not beguile our hollows and speaker box’s bloody swords in little doth excel, the white and the noble that I can’t say is your beautiful is destiny contrarious, gracelet. Could not know it smooth pillow’s nook, with anemonies irritate my absence of year had explored them high stars grown mine eyes, and hadde without regarded River on his poacher upon a counts my sinful earth,? Afterward thyng of life hovers are one with the gilt, or elles, Fred really with barly brewing, at kirk or more deed; he clepe me before and you relax Pluto’s brow, and he took.

               83

Though thy loves I have heart, you ain’t neva have lettest our faith, my Mary, they never discontented to breed Mark tellė kan, oure Lord Henry’s rights of vast eternal creak, dread in another&father odd is such bodies come, to blush o’ my bed was purveiance o’er the crystal’d lily from hot baths to see us pass? And thin. Their skill, although there content, had left me many, through of the Blessed moot I thee! Knew myn herte may never stopped What made it had a juice in it; o let in ilka groves, hills, and by clean. I put, he smoot me for any othere miss it! Then the heaven love.

[bowtied-pasta]

True and _________ Interactions

True and Slender

True: “You saved me! I owe you my life.”

Slender: “No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.”

True and Splendor

True, pointing: “May I sit there?”

Splendor: “That's my lap.”

True: “That doesn't answer my question, Dots.”

True and ‘Fender

True: “Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.”

Fen: “You and me.”

True, tearing up: “Okay.”

True and Trender

Trender: “If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back.”

True: “Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.”

True and Zalgo

True: “I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are.”

Zalgo, sniffling: “It’s not a joke. I’m a legit snack.”

True and Tender

Tender: “I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.”

True: “This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.”

True and Jeff

Jeff: *Gets down on one knee*

True: “Oh my god, it’s finally happening.”

Jeff: *Falls over*

True: “The poison is kicking in.”

True and Jane

True, struggling to keep upright in 1 inch heels: “Yeah, I-I don’t really think heels are for me”

Jane, pointing at her and walking flawlessly in sparkly golden 6 inch heels: “WEAK.”

True and Tim

Tim: “Must be hard not being able to laugh.”

True: “I do have a sense of humor you know.”

Tim: “I’ve never heard you laugh before.”

True: “I’ve never heard you say anything funny.”

True and Brian

Brian: “What’s up guys? I’m back.”

True: “What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die.”

Brian: “Death is a social construct.”

True and Toby

True: “Can you please be serious for five minutes?”

Toby: “My record is four, but I think I can do it.”

True and Ben

True: “How petty can you get?”

Ben: “I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.”

True and EJ

True: “What is your biggest weakness?”

Jack: “I can be uncooperative.”

True: “Okay, can you give me an example?”

Jack: “No.”

True and Dark

Dark: “You fuckers don’t know about my knife stick. It’s a knife taped to a stick and it’s the ultimate weapon.”

True, not looking up from her book: “Spear.”

Dark: “BLOCKED.”

True and Nina

True: “Nina…”

Nina: “Oh no, 'Nina’ in b-flat.”

Nina: “You're disappointed.”

True and Kevin

Kevin: “True and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's-“

True: “Sentences.”

Kevin: “Don't interrupt me.”

True and Kagekao

True: “Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail.”

Kagekao: “No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police.”

[normal-thoughts-official]

Tw abuse, drug addiction, mentions of Shadowhunter racism, sexual abuse and all Camille related shittiness. (1) Right so how do we feel about Camille using yin fen to further manipulate Magnus and make him stay? I mean obviously Camille’s not the only vampire in the world but I’m sure Camille would convince him to stay with her and only get yin fen from her and the ways she could further manipulate and abuse him is....ouch. -

She could just up and leave suddenly and leave Magnus in withdrawal with no idea when she’ll be back, making it seem like it’s his fault she left and furthering Magnus belief that he needs her. When she comes back she calls Magnus pathetic, ‘I mean she was only gone a few days and he’s already like this, this is why no one loves you Magnus your just a pathetic waste of space’ and that goes on for a while, I’m not really sure what the breaking point would be or if cat and ragnor get him out of there, but either way he gets out and there’s lots of ups and downs and relapses and it’s painful, he has his family but he’s barley holding on and then introduce Raphael! Cause I love him and need to include some Raphael Magnus bonding any chance I get. When Raphael moves in and is struggling with his addiction Magnus tries to help the best he can but always keeping his walls up so he won’t seem weak and helpless like he feels he is but things happen insert some dramatic plot and tears and Magnus tells him about his addiction and how he understands how hard it is so Raphael can feel better cause Magnus is always helping other people at the cost of himself, is it healthy? No. But will that stop him? Also no. And cue angsty dialogue where Raphael says it’s not the same cause he hurts people with da fangs and Magnus doesn’t, like the whole aggressor vampire bloodsucking stereotype that I’m sure Shadowhunters love to use to their advantage and you’re a much better writer than me but emotions and bonding and lots and lots of angst. Djkajsjssf yeah you get it -ya boy( yeah that’s the name I’m using so you know it’s me cause I’m extremely creative )

love the name! sorry it took me so long to answer, i've been busy and i wanted to give this all the thought it deserves cuz u know me and camille angst and aaaa

i usually don't tie yin fen in with the abuse, i've seen that hc before but i don't commonly go with it (not for any reason in particular tbh except maybe that i usually use camille's abuse as a way to project my own abusers and since i never had any experience with that i don't include it in my hcs), but i do think the potential is great! (well, in an evil way, but you get it)

the whole thing about withdrawal is great because by that logic when she withdraws affection she is also withdrawing the venom so it's a double withdrawal he's experiencing and it's hard for him to differentiate between the two things, so it just ends up seeming like being without camille is even worse. and like addiction is a result of biopsychosocial factors so the fact that he became addicted in the first place indicates that he had been in a fragile state; and camille leaving plays into that fragile state, making his need for the yin fen greater, and then she isn't there to give it to him, so again it just feels like being without camille is the worst thing in the world and he just doesn't want to upset her so she doesn't leave him alone in this hell again

and then of course when she's back magnus is in a terrible state and she immediately uses it against him, saying that this is exactly why she needed some time, she can't ever be away from him, he is so needy and dependant and needs her all the time and he's smothering her, can't he see that she's exhausted? she can't live to take care of him all the time and he's just so selfish and tiring and this is why everyone but her left him

then you know... kicking him and kissing it better, saying, "look at you, what a terrible shape you are in, i don't know what you'd do without me", playing the good cop and further drilling into him that he needs her you know

and certainly magnus could get the venom from someone else but it puts him in a way too vulnerable position in front of strangers, risks other people finding out (i'm sure magnus wouldn't want people to know about his addiction just like they don't want to know about his abuse; it's ridiculous, it's pathetic and it's all his fault and he should have known better in his head obviously i'm not saying it's true but also just because it's one more thing shadowhunters and other people can use against him), and probably risks getting her mad. which is weird because she bites other people all the time, but then again, what does he want her to do, not feed herself? only drink from him? and he knows it's difficult to stop so why is he judging her for something she can't control?

but if it were the other way around she would lose it, call him a cheater and say that she doesn't deserve this, that she's done everything for him and this is how he repays her, whoring himself out for anyone else. it was supposed to be their thing, something they did for pleasure and for fun, and he had to go and become a fucking junkie, didn't he?

then later she comes back and apologizes, says she was mad but she had the right to with that he had done, and besides, she's really just worried about him, doesn't he know other people would use that to manipulate him, put him in danger? she's just looking out for him. and repeat

i'm also not sure what the breaking point would be but i think it would probably require some interventions from ragnor and cat, plus eventually these things boil. magnus is in a vulnerable position, yes, but he is still smart and he is a free spirit and he doesn't like being held down and treated like a toy and abandoned; he craves people and he craves affection and he can see how he's spiralling out of control, and i think for the longest time what keeps him tied to camille isn't love but guilt. this sense that he owes her because she saved him in the bridge, and it isn't fair of him to just break up with her. but eventually enough is enough, and plus, camille is not just an ass to him. he sees the way she treats other people, turn mundanes and then leave them to rot, and is generally a terrible clan leader. and i don't think magnus would ever want to be with someone who is openly vile and hurting others like that. he just can't live with it, magnus already has enough guilt from associating with terrible people and he cares so fucking much about others he could bleed to death from it. so eventually it's too much

don't get me wrong, he also does it for himself, and honestly i wish it was more for himself, but i do think the fact that camille is a terrible person plays an important part in him leaving her because enough is enough

about rapha!!!! you know i'm a fucking sucker for magnus and rapha angst and bonding so you've come to the right place, love of my life. i do like the idea of magnus being able to talk to raphael about it, say that he understands perfectly what he's going through. it's also interesting because they are on "opposite sides" of the addiction, and with magnus he had been in an abusive relationship that got him hooked to it, but like, it's still the same thing at the end of the day, you know?

and magnus is just like, raphael, this isn't your fault. trust me, i know what a person doing this to someone on purpose looks like. and it's a complicated thing ofc because rapha is a guilt junkie so of course the idea that he could be even remotely similar to camille eats at him, but at the same time he just... could never and magnus points that out to him, that his disgust at the idea is more than enough proof that this is not the kind of person he is

and slowly magnus helps him through his own recovery because magnus understands exactly what this is like, and he knows all the ups and downs. he knows downworlder support groups dedicated to that, he knows other people who have gone through it, he knows the importance of a support network and makes sure to give it to rapha not just in the form of himself (because no one can be a person's single source of support, it's impossible to take this much responsibility) but also by introducing him to other people like cat and ragnor and other cool vampires magnus knows. and encouraging him to eat more from blood bags because i bet rapha is the kind of person who refuses to because he feels disgusting and magnus is the one who tells him that if he adds hunger on top of withdrawal it's just going to make him feel like he needs the blood even more. so eventually raphael relents and starts eating properly

and at the same time raphael helping give magnus some closure because i think part of him still feels a bit like he was ungrateful towards camille and rapha is just adamant that that was Not the case, and camille wasn't addicted to his blood, she was using him and that's different. and just aaa raphael being the first person magnus opens up to about this that didn't already know him by the time camille rolled around, and them both helping each other and getting closure and being a support network without trying to "fix" the other, just giving options, listening, being there. ugh i love their relationship so mUCH

[nalgenewhore]

Slipping Through My Fingers - Six

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

warnings: none! 

an: i know i usually post every other day, but i hit 700 followers today aaannndd im real happy so enjoy! this is the drama yall’ve been sittin pretty and waitin for 

Elide glanced at herself in her mirror, popping her lips as her front door was practically bashed in. 

Aelin was always an impatient brat, but tonight, Elide couldn’t blame her - they were finally getting to meet the mysterious Rowan and some of his friends as well. She knew her sister was inordinately anxious for this to go well. 

Finally, Elide walked out of her bathroom, smoothing her hands down the fronts of her skin-tight jeans, and it looked like her door was just barely hanging on. Thank the gods for her deadbolt. “For Anneith’s sake, Ae, calm your titties, please.” 

Elide sighed and unlocked her door, opening it to find her sister there, a slightly apologetic wince on her face. “Sorry! I’m nervous,” the blonde said, lifting her hand to run it through her locks, but she’d forgotten she’d thrown them up in a ponytail and so Aelin settled for picking at her cuticles. “Are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah, just gotta put on my shoes,” Elide said, “come in, maybe drink some water, calm down?” 

Aelin entered and closed the door behind her, practically bouncing up and down uncontrollably. “I’ve been trying to calm down all day! I was pinning pleats and stabbed myself so many times.” 

“You really like this guy, huh?” 

A blush rose to Aelin’s cheeks and she ducked her head, “I don’t know! He’s just… you know? I like being around him, he’s… not really ‘nice’ but he’s nice, you know?” 

Elide laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, I don’t, at all, but I get it. I’m happy for you, babe.” 

“I’m happy for me too,” Aelin reached out and took Elide’s hand, squeezing once as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m really happy.” Breathing out and blinking, she smiled, “Ok, enough of that, can you get your shoes on please?” 

“Bossy,” teased Elide, dropping her sister’s hand to sit down at her front hall bench and shove on her platform Doc Marten’s, lacing them up tight. “Pass me my jacket, darling?” She stood and held a hand out for the coat Aelin passed to her. Elide patted her pockets, feeling her phone, keys, and wallet. “Alright, I’m good to go.” 

“Finally,” Aelin said, dragging Elide out into the hall. She was barely patient enough to wait for Elide to lock the door. 

Aelin chattered nervously the entire drive to the pub, only talking faster when they picked up Nehemia. 

Nehemia and Elide exchanged amused glances as they parked and Aelin practically threw herself from the vehicle, stopping herself from racing into the building when she remembered the two of them. “Sorry,” she said, smiling a bit as they walked over to her and were joined by Nesryn by herself. 

“Hey, Ae, Lys had to work tonight,” Nesryn said, an apologetic furrow in her brow. “I’m sorry, she really wanted to meet him.” 

“Oh,” Aelin replied, deflating slightly. “It’s ok, she can meet him another time, right? It’s fine, really, let’s go!” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Auntie D!” 

Dresenda smiled as Kohana launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her legs. “Hey, kiddo.” She reached down and picked him up, propping him up on her side. Kohana smiled widely, his hooded eyes crinkling and nearly disappearing with his joy as they pressed their noses together, as part of the Bogdano greeting. “Lorcan, what’s up?” 

Lorcan smiled at his sister-in-law, “Nothing much, what about you?” 

“Same old, same old,” Dresenda replied, tickling Kohana’s side. The adults both chuckled as he giggled and squirmed away from the fingers. “But really, how are you?” 

Lorcan found it hard to look at her sometimes. They had always looked alike, her and Essar. That had changed after Dresenda had joined the military and risen up the ranks, becoming hardened. Desperation, that’s what it was. A desperation to see the love of his life again, in anything, anywhere. “I’m ok, really. Little man’s in school and he’s liking that, aren’t you, K-Man?” 

“I love school, Dad. I love it.” Kohana corrected him. He turned to his aunt and began speaking Bogdano to her, conversing easily in one of his native tongues. 

Dresenda smiled and responded in the same language, putting him down and letting him run off into the house she was assigned after being discharged. 

“And how’re you, D?” 

“Well, I’d like to think I’m going good. Got a new therapist, one that has actually been in active combat,” she said with an eye roll. Lorcan had heard it all before when she’d first arrived back in town, about how an active combat soldier should receive an active combat therapist. Civilians couldn’t understand it and he couldn’t blame her for that. 

“That’s good. Thanks for watching him, again, I know it’s not what anyone really wants to do on a Saturday but—” 

“Lorcan, for fuck’s sake, man. I genuinely enjoy looking after your kid. What is it with parents, thinking everyone else just dreads interacting with their demons?” She punched his shoulder and he grimaced. 

“Ow, that hurt.” 

“Oh, you’re a big boy, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Dresenda said, shaking her head. “Get out of here, go have fun, I’m gonna go corrupt your child.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Lorcan said, calling out a good-bye to his son who raced back towards him, his face stricken.

“Até!” Lorcan crouched and hugged Kohana, swearing he died when the little one hugged him tight and pressed his cheek against Lorcan’s shoulder. “Bye-bye, até.” 

“Bye-bye, prince,” he said, brushing back Kohana’s long hair and kissing his forehead. “Be good for D, yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm. D told me we could watch a movie!” The two adults chuckled at his obvious anticipation. “Love you.” 

“Love you too, K-Man.” Kohana stretched up on his toes to leave a little peck on Lorcan’s cheek before he spun away and reached for Dresenda. “Have fun, D.” 

“You too.” Dresenda and Kohana stayed on the porch as he walked away, waving the entire time. 

When he got in his truck, his phone rang and he connected it to the car speaker so he could drive. “Ro, what’s up?” 

“Where are you?” 

“Gods, man, can you calm down? I’m dropping off my child, I’ll be there soon,” Lorcan said, rolling his eyes. “Why’re you so jumpy?” 

“‘Cause I really like this girl and Fen’s fuckin’ AWOL, L!” 

“Ok, stop yelling, I’m driving to his house right, now, geeze.” 

“Wait, are you driving? Why are you on the phone—” 

“Calm down, daddy, it’s hands-free,” Lorcan said, laughing through the sentence. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then please remove your dick from my ass.” 

Rowan groaned in frustration, “Mala fucking fry me, can you just pick up that fuckhead and get here faster?” 

“Anything for my daddy.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Bye,” Lorcan crooned, “I love you.” 

“Fuck off,” Rowan snarled. Lorcan waited patiently. “...iloveyoutoo.” 

Lorcan laughed and hung up, slowing down in front of Fenrys’ house, where the golden-haired man was already waiting outside. When Lorcan honked his horn, he looked up from his phone and smiled, jogging out to the truck. “You ready to meet this chick?” 

There was a smile Lorcan didn’t trust on his face and he gave Fenrys a suspicious look as he drove. “Yeah, I guess. I’m happy for him.” 

“Well, me too,” Fenrys declared, still grinning. 

“You’re freaking me out, what’s with the smile, Fen?” 

“Nah, it’s nothing. Just excited, is all.” 

“Alright,” Lorcan said, still wary. “Do you know any of her friends besides Mi?” 

“Nossir. Ay, look at that, we’re here!” He was out of the car before Lorcan had parked the truck and stepped out, grabbing his beat-up jean jacket. Fenrys was waiting a metre away and waited for Lorcan before they stalked over to the pub’s entrance, where Rowan, Connall, and Vaughan were waiting.

“Finally, you’re here,” Rowan said, relief flooding his face. 

“Hellas, you really like this girl, huh?” 

Even under the darkness of the fall evening, they all saw Rowan’s cheeks flush as he ducked his head, “Yeah. I do.” 

Fenrys jumped onto Lorcan’s back, “Well, then let’s meet her! Sooner I can tell her the story, the better!” They walked into the pub, Lorcan easily carrying Fenrys. 

Time slowed as Rowan began threatening him into silence over a stupid and humiliating story from college, as Lorcan’s eyes landed on the corner booth where Nehemia sat and right next to her… Elide Lochan. 

He was frozen in his spot, his mouth dropping open which seemed like his new thing around her, gawking. Lorcan was going to kill Fenrys. Maybe Nehemia too. 

Probably having felt his gaze on her, Elide turned her head, an irritated expression on her face that faded into shock, closely followed by fury when Nehemia giggled and waved at him. Seeing her hit Nehemia’s arm with the back of her hand had Lorcan snapping out of his shock and dropping Fenrys unceremoniously, tersely telling Rowan to shut the fuck up. “Are you fucking kidding me, Fenrys?” 

“What are you- oh, I see you saw Elide, hmm?” 

“How long have you known,” Lorcan accused him, balling his hands into fists. “Fenrys.” 

“Known what?” Connall asked, looking between his twin and Lorcan, who looked two seconds away from bashing Fenrys’ teeth in. 

“The girl next to Nehemia is Kohana’s teacher. And I slept with her.”

Everyone waited with unimpressed expressions as Fenrys sighed, “Since poker night. Mia was out with her and pieced it together.” 

Lorcan’s hackles raised and his fists twitched, his knuckles practically aching for the burst of pain when they collided with a face. Instead, he shoved Fenrys’ chest, making him stagger back a step. “You can’t fucking do that, Fenrys. What were you even trying to do?” He shook his head and didn’t wait for Fenrys’ response before he was grabbing Connall and Vaughan, dragging them to the bar. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Connall said as they ordered drinks. “You know he ain’t mean nothing by it, bro.” 

He did know that, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel manipulated or puppeteered. Lorcan just nodded vaguely and knocked back a shot and grumbled, “Let’s get this shit over with.” 

He did feel a twinge of remorse as he watched the myth herself, Aelin, launch out of the booth to hug Rowan. Vaughan clapped him over the shoulder, whispering in their mother tongue, “Just give it a try, huh? You liked her enough to talk to her for at least three drinks.” 

Lorcan rounded on his cousin, “You’re on his side?” 

“No,” Vaughan placated, “but it’s Fenrys. Boyo thinks he’s the second coming of fucking Lumas or some shit. He’s a romantic.” 

“He’s a fucking busyody.” 

“Whatever. You coming or nah?”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide was watching in amusement as Aelin babbled on and on, clearly nervous as she sipped from her drink. Nehemia exchanged a weird look with Nesryn and Elide, raising her brows towards the chattering blonde. 

“So,” Elide stated, interrupting Aelin’s rambling. “What are his friends like, Mia?” 

Nehemia’s eyes twinkled with something Elide couldn’t read, “Oh, they’re nice I suppose. Very rowdy, very loud. All pretty boys, very nice to look at, Elide.” 

 She rolled her eyes and looked to the door when a group of loud men tumbled in. Elide recognized one of them immediately, as well as the dark-skinned man on his back. Lorcan. Carrying Fenrys.

Life froze and Elide watched Lorcan’s mouth drop open. His eyes flicked to the side and she followed his gaze to find Nehemia waving. “Oh my fucking gods, are you serious, Nehemia? Lorcan?” 

Nehemia smiled serenely, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You so do! I saw you waving at him, what the fuck?” She smacked Nehemia’s arm with the back of her hand. 

“Girl, come on,” Nehemia said, nudging her, “it’s kind of funny.” 

Elide scowled, “You know, it really isn’t. Not telling me that the guy I slept with, who also happens to be the father of one of my students, is also your husband’s friend? And Aelin’s boyfriend’s friend too?” 

Nesryn’s eyes widened, but Aelin didn’t notice anything as she jumped out of the booth and ran to meet a silver-haired man. Nehemia slipped out to greet Fenrys and Nesryn moved to sit next to Elide. “You don’t have to talk to him, you know. I’ll ignore him with you,” she offered, smiling when Elide chuckled and leaned into her side. 

“Thanks, but I should probably be an adult and be polite. It’s not like he’s dying to talk to me either.” 

“El, Nes! Come meet everyone,” Aelin called, beckoning them over with eyes that read: If you don’t come over right now I will gut you two. 

Rolling their eyes, they tossed back the rest of their drinks and stood up, walking over to the rest of the group. Lorcan caught her eyes and nodded once, acknowledging the awkwardness of the scenario. Elide relaxed a bit as Aelin pulled her to her side. “Hey, I’m Elide, Ae’s little sister,” she said, sticking her hand out to Rowan. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Rowan looked nervous as well and his eyes darted around the group, mainly telling some sort of message to his friends before he took her hand and smiled, “I’m Rowan, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Fenrys coughed and smirked, but Nehemia swiftly elbowed him. “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

Introductions were made all around and the larger group moved back to the booth. Elide and Lorcan both scowled at Nehemia and Fenrys, respectively, when the meddling couple forced them together, making them sit side by side. Nehemia mouthed, Talk to him!

Sighing, Elide mustered up all her willpower and turned to Lorcan, “So what is it that you do? I’ve been wondering - you’re always covered in grease and wear overalls a lot.” 

Lorcan loosed a chuckle and drank some of his whiskey, “I’m a mechanic. I work at the same shop as Ansel and Fenrys.” At the mention of Fenrys’ name, they both frowned for a split second, but after, they were visibly more comfortable. 

Elide hummed and accepted the Manhattan Nehemia slid her way in apology with a forgiving smile and a slight eye roll in response to her friend’s triumphant smile and not-so-subtle eyebrow wiggle. “I admit I’ve been confused about something else.” 

He rose a brow in question and looked down at her. She flashbacked to the fateful night and felt her cheeks heat. “Yes?” 

“How old are you,” she blurted, thankful for the other conversations at the table so that no one would hear her bumbling words. “It’s just- you look so young and you have a kid, too.” 

Chuckling, he said, “Haven’t you ever heard it’s rude to ask someone their age?” Elide rolled her eyes and jabbed his side with her elbow. “Hey, ow, I bruise easy,” Lorcan joked. She rolled her eyes again. “Fine, fine, got married the summer after highschool to the love of my life and she got pregnant a couple months after we graduated university. I’m twenty-five. How old are you?” 

“Twenty-four,” she said, running her finger over the rim of her glass. “What’d you go to university for?” 

“Mechanical engineering. Got a job at a firm and realized I hated it so I got a job at Malakai’s. Been there ever since.” 

“Are you any good?” 

He looked quizzically at her, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good at what I do. Why?” 

Elide waved her hand vaguely, “I just moved here and I have a vintage VW that’s prone to throwing temper tantrums and breaking down on me. I’ve been meaning to look for someone since I’ll be driving more ‘cause it’s getting colder now.” 

Lorcan bobbed his head and turned to Fenrys, “Marama, you got a business card on you?” 

Fenrys perked up and opened his mouth to say something that would no doubt irritate both Lorcan and Elide. Thankfully, Nehemia deterred him and he passed one over. “Yeah, here you go.” 

Lorcan took it and fished a pen out of his jacket, scribbling something on the back of the smooth paper. He handed it to her, tapping the back with a long finger, “Call whenever you need to.” 

It was a number with his name beneath it. Elide traced it with the tip of her now-clear with iridescent butterflies acrylic before putting it in the back pocket of her tight jeans, smiling easily at him. “Thanks. I’m probably due for an oil change soon, so you’ll get to meet Betsy soon.” 

“You call your VW ‘Betsy’?” 

Elide laughed and nodded, “Yeah, what do you call your truck?” 

“I don’t call my truck anything, the K-Man on the other hand…” Lorcan trailed off and shook his head. It had to come up eventually, the subject of Kohana. Less awkward than she thought it’d be. “He has a name for it.” 

“Oh really? And what’s that?” 

“Fillmore.” 

Elide choked on her mouthful of alcohol, laughing incredulously. “Like the hippie van in Cars?” 

Lorcan winced and nodded, “The exact one.” He smiled at her laughter and didn’t see the looks exchanged by their table mates. 

They chatted easily, like that same night, but there wasn’t anything expected or alluded to. Just talking, no big deal. 

Her drink was soon empty, as was his, and they both stood up from the booth to get another. Elide walked ahead of him and he unashamedly drank in her curves wrapped in blue jeans and a tight black top, exposing the ink on her back as well as the delicate laurel leaves on her collarbones. 

He admired the coiled wyvern taking up most of the space on her back, recognizing the decidedly Frozen Wastes and Ironteeth influence in the artwork. The last time he’d seen her skin, he hadn’t exactly been focused on her tattoos, but thinking back on it now, he should’ve been. It was stunning, just like the rest of her. 

Oh fucking hell, those drinks must’ve been stronger than he’d thought because there was no way his sober mind would’ve thought that. 

Elide leaned against the bar and Hellas save him, he should’ve had more self control than to stare at her ass for as long as he did. 

A group of college boys passed between him and Elide, separating them for a few moments, just long enough for some skinny kid to walk up behind Elide and put his hand on her lower back. 

Lorcan stiffened, his grip on his empty glass tightening, as she did too. After the guy said a few words, she laughed and spun to the side, leaning back against her elbows. “L, baby?” 

She had a look in her eyes, one Lorcan knew better than to mess with so he walked up to her, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah?” 

“Will you buy me a drink?” she asked, pouting and batting her lashes as she glued herself to his side, fitting under his arm. “Pretty please?” 

Go with it, her eyes said and he obliged her, a hand fitting perfectly on her waist. “Whatever my girl wants.” 

“Oh, I’m- sorry, I didn’t know,” the other guy said, not that they were focusing on him any longer. Elide didn’t even notice when he’d left, but Lorcan did and he semi-reluctantly stepped away, putting that distance back between them.

“So what about that drink, Salvaterre?”

Lorcan laughed deeply, nodding in confirmation. “Yeah, you know what you want, kid?” Elide did not care for that nickname one bit. 

I do know what I want, she thought to herself. And it wasn’t any damned drink.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @superspiritfestival @empress-ofbloodshed @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books @beccasophia95​ @exersize-me-i-dare-u​ @thewayshedreamed​ @hizqueen4life​ @ifinallygavein​ @bat-wing-rhys​ @awkward-avocado-s​ @b00kworm​ @mu-si-ca-l​ @lovemollywho​ @tacmc​ @soitsgorgeous​ @staarligght​

[gaeilgeoirgay]

Cuairt Rómánsúil

so. People liked Posadh Eagraithe and therefore I made it a series :)

This fic is a Fennec Shand/Cara Dune interlude of them being competent lesbians as opposed to Boba/Din’s everything. I hope you enjoy this one!

Ao3 Link

Cuairt Rómánsúil= Romantic Visit

Cara walks off the ramp of the transport ship, jumping down onto the dusty sand of Tatooine, deep in thought. She hasn’t always been used to the scorching heat and dry atmosphere here, but she’s made a lot of adjustments in the past few years. She’d gone from self-imposed exile in the Outer Rim, as far away from her former colleagues as possible, to the Marshal of Nevarro working for the New Republic she had tried so hard to avoid.

Cara is happy though, and that’s something she wasn’t two years ago. She has friends in Greef and Din, sparring partners in some of Din’s fellow Mandalorians, a sabacc partner in Peli. Greef knows she’s his favourite coworker- why wouldn’t she be? Din isn’t very talkative but she talks enough for both of them and he likes exchanging stories. Apparently it’s a Mandalorian tradition. As for Din’s Covert, she loves wrestling with Paz because the giant Zabrak actually gives her a challenge.

Din supposedly regrets introducing Cara to the tough mechanic too, but Cara loves her. Peli’s dry sense of humour matches her own perfectly and the woman is downright ruthless at cards. Cara has friends and an apartment above her office and the local bakery knows her by name. She’s never stayed long enough anywhere after Alderaan for that but the friendly Pantoran teenager behind the counter always has her order ready when she drops in.

Her thoughts keep her occupied long enough to make it to the speeder rent shop she usually uses. They don’t charge an exorbitant amount, their speeders actually work and Cara is ninety percent sure they’re a front for a spice runner but that’s not her business when she’s off Nevarro. They’re nice enough and she can get to Boba’s palace on their machines so she’s not gonna ask. She rents a speeder for one Tatooine week and heads out across the Dune Sea. It takes Cara about an hour but she soon reaches the sprawling complex that now belongs to Boba Fett.

Darras is on duty at the door and she gives xem a wave as she passes. Xe smile at her before facing back to the desert. Cara strides through the corridors before reaching the throne room. She’s timed her visit to coincide with the end of court, if not a little bit after so that the room is empty of people and Fennec is on her break. Fennec is standing beside the throne, speaking quietly with Boba, a bottle of spotchka in hand. She doesn’t actually drink as much as she lets the courtiers think but alcohol is more common than water on Tatooine as its easier to get.

To Cara’s surprise, Din is here too, draped over the back of the throne, his helmet nestled on top of Boba’s. She knows they’re married to keep their respective Court’s off their back, she was even at their Mandalorian wedding, but she didn’t expect Din to hang around on Tatooine. He’s been swamped with work ever since he began the process of taking back Mandalore so its good to see him taking a break. All three of them notice her as soon as she steps into the room, which is fair enough considering she’s pretty sure they constitute an army on their own.

Din’s helmet tilts in the way she’s come to recognise as a fond greeting and Boba’s tilts in the nod she knows is an acknowledgment mixed with respect. Fennec slinks down from the dais and winds her arms around Cara’s neck to kiss her. Cara presses into her girlfriends warmth, kissing her back contentedly. Fennec breaks the kiss after a few moments and leans back to look at Cara. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I thought you were busy this weekend?” Fennec says. “I bribed Gadai to finish my work for the weekend and took my owed vacation days. Felt like seeing you.” Cara replies, still holding onto Fennec. “Aw. I have a few days of my own saved up. I’ve got a training session with some new recruits now though, if you want to heckle them. It’ll build character.” Fennec says, making Cara snicker. “I’d love to, Fen.”

She finally lets go of Fennec and strides over to greet Din, clasping his vambrace. “Didn’t expect to be dealing with your ugly mug today.” She teases gently. “Yeah, it’s time to renew our treaty with Mos Pelgo. Went to visit Cobb then decided to pop in for a visit.” Din answers and Cara laughs. “You came to get dick, Djarin, don’t think I didn’t notice the way Fett is sitting. It’s good to see you though.” The helmet covers Din’s face but he’s definitely blushing under there. He shoves her lightly and she moves away, heading back to Fennec.

“Let’s go find those new recruits, love. I feel like bursting someone’s ego.” Cara says to Fennec and they leave the throne room, chatting about what’s happened since their last comm call. Apparently, some idiot had tried to poison Boba and Fennec had dealt with it before they’d even finished tipping the powdered cerasien into a glass of tihaar. Boba and Din has been extremely grumpy, calling it a ‘waste of good tihaar’. Cara laughs and says that she wishes she could’ve been there, just to watch Fen work.

They reach the training rooms, where an assortment of potential recruits are waiting for Fennec. Car scans a critical eye over them. Only time will tell whether they’re any good but there’s a Felucian in the back row that catches her interest. She has a feeling she’s gonna like them.

Fennec stands at the top of the room and immediately they all turn to her. The sniper has the sort of presence that lets her command a room effortlessly and Cara loves it. Fennec begins to bark orders and Cara settles in to watch the show.

Yeah, it’s a different life from the one she had two years ago but she wouldn’t change it for anything.