#i love these days where how i value myself is very tied to my body!!! why bother about my personality (awful) and my skills (also awful)+

[catboyolli]

another day of feeling like i don't belong anywhere ✌

[misssmeat]

30 Things I Learned Before Turning 30

In celebration of my next decade, I took some time to document some of the obvious and not-so-obvious pieces of wisdom I've collected in my life. I wrote this as an exercise to celebrate my own growth, but I thought I would share it.

I spent over half of my 20s with all of you, here on tumblr. It was a messy decade spent figuring out who I am, what I want, and how to create the life I dream of. I'm ending my 20s happier, more sure of myself, and excited for the future. Thanks for joining me on the journey.

Here's to the next decade of being older. Wiser. Sexier. Here's to 30.

Love and Relationships

Give it three dates if you’re on the fence about someone. Love at first sight (or first date) is rare.

If he’s significantly older and makes you feel special for being “mature for your age”… there is something very wrong. He’s gross, and I promise you’ll see it one day and be furious for your past self.

Co-dependency is not love. 

Your partner is not your therapist. Do not treat them as such. 

Holding hands is a superior form of intimacy. 

Sometimes love isn’t enough. 

As annoying and cliche as it is, self-love is the most important love you’ll discover. 

Be intentional in your relationships - intentionally make time, intentionally show care, intentionally respect your partner, intentionally adore. (This applies to friendships too.)

Strong relationships are built on strong foundations. Communication, trust, kindness.

Life is made of millions of tiny moments. The tiny moments make the difference more than the grand gestures. 

Sex and Kink

Sex is supposed to be fun. Too many people forget this. It’s adult playtime. Don’t take yourself too seriously. 

Your limits are sacred. Never let anyone convince you otherwise. 

There is no such thing as a “true” sub/Dom/etc. Do what makes you happy. It’s really that simple. 

Confidence is 75% of success in the bedroom. I never truly know what I’m doing, but if I act like I’m the hottest girl on earth… my partner goes nuts for me regardless.

Keep water near at all times.  

Bondage is much more physically taxing than you might imagine. A rope buddy taught me to keep chocolate near for the sugar boost after physically taxing positions. 

Sometimes things get messy. Don’t worry, it’s normal. 

Give feedback and be open to feedback. We are all different, so there should be a learning curve with each partner.

Butt stuff hurts a lot less if you train your muscles slowly over time. 

If you’re not in the mood, don’t feel pressure to force it. Respect what your body is telling you. Likewise, respect your partner if they aren’t in the mood. 

Everything Else 

Ladies - unlearn creating yourself for the male gaze. It’s overrated.

Western cooking isn’t always superior. See the fried egg in France vs. Hong Kong. I’ll die on this hill.

Your worth and value are not tied to anything you’re offering or producing. Existing is the most radical thing we can do. 

Find a hobby that doesn’t require the internet. I found painting and reading. 

Your energy is valuable. Be selective in where and how you invest it.

When washing your hair, go through your shampoo routine twice before conditioning.

Go on walks. Touch grass. Feel the sun on your skin.

When in doubt, adopt a cat. 

Go to therapy. No matter where you are on your mental health journey, therapy will probably be a game changer.

Do not underestimate the power of forgiveness. Holding onto anger is not as empowering as I once believed it was.

And one last bonus thought: no matter what, always make space for joy.

❤️.

[joy-haver]

Happy national coming out day. Here’s my queerness update/inventory for the year.

Call it what you want, I’m datin like half of y’all anyway 🤷🏻‍♀️(I wrote this to send to my friends. The joke isn’t true of my tumble but fuck it, I’m keeping it in)

Gender feelings:

contextual. Complicated. Like a tradwife in a nonbinary way. Like a young boy on his first hunt. Like a grandmother on a porch. Like a grandfather telling stories. Like a mother, mothering. Like a father, failing and righteous. Like an aunt, not an uncle, I don’t know why. Like a priestess, but the kind you go to for wisdom. Like a healer. Like a 13th century farm wife to a roving herdsman. Genders that don’t exist in our social context. Genders that have never existed.

Gender presentations:

Usually very femme, I wear corsetts and skirts and dresses and have long hair. But I tend to pull masculine elements into it, and I don’t despise the masculine aspect of my being. Other times, shorts and a tshirt 🤷🏻‍♀️.

And I’m fat, which can be degendering or hyper gendering, depending. at this point I’m not sure what I pass as and how often and to who.

Biological sex:

As far as I’m aware, i am perisex, meaning I have no intersex conditions. (no notable or medicalized congenital [from birth] variations in my sexual characteristics (limited definition))

I have, however been on HRT for nearly 5 years. My hrt journey has been rather unique, and far different than anyone I’ve ever encountered. I’m not consistently on progesterone or antiandrgens, and I’ve stopped Estrogen twice for a few months due to shortages.

I have had no relevant surgeries.

I also had an abnormal initial puberty, and some weird stuff with that.

So I think it’s safe to say I’m no longer sufficiently “male”, but not quite anything else that’s defined. Which is nice.

(A)Sexuality:

contextual. Long periods of no sexual attraction being my baseline, and moderate periods where my baseline is sexual attraction. But there’s always veriation in the form of little peaks and hills and apparitions. It seems very tied to both my hormones and my bipolar disorder

Sexual attraction:

Idk y’all every time I define it I’m proved wrong. However, I can say that I find that it grows out of mutual desire, availability, accessibility, and a feeling of equality in a relationship. I like a verity of human bodies. But, I find myself incapable of more than fleeting sexual attraction to those I have power over (whether real power or perceived).

Romantic attraction: constantly, but differently than most folks. I’m attracted, first and foremost, to Earnest people. A variety of people. People who look like they know themselves well. People who don’t put me on a pedestal. People who love to grow. People who believe in harm reduction/prison abolition. People with strong values. But ultimately, I view romance as an activity you do, either with someone or about them, that produces certain feelings and realities of intimacy, and closeness, and soul sharing. To me, romance is the act of tying one’s souls together

Polyamory:

Goodness. I’m a relationship anarchist. I think I’ve taken that ideology and made it my own in many ways. It’s quite a bit more anarchistic, and spiritual? And religious? To me nowadays. It’s almost hard to define myself as polyamorous anymore, just because of how far removed I am from that framework due to the flexibility of my relationships.

What it means to me to be queer:

I’ve tried to answer with nuance and complexity in categories of gender, sexual attraction, aceness, sex, etc. i definitely could write like 20-25 pages minimum on each, but my hands are tired and I’m sure you are tired of reading.

But in reality, the most important aspect of my queerness is this: I seek to be in good community. With everyone, and everything, and every idea, In every singe way that I can.

I seek to undermine and outgrow all systems of harm and oppression. I seek to live freely, for the benefit of all people. I seek to meet my needs, for myself, and so that I can meet the needs of community.

That is queerness.

To be queer is not to be ace, trans, gay, intersex or polyamorous, or whatever identity. Not on it’s own, and not exclusively. To be queer is to live in earnest community, and plan for the future.

Because, what it means to not be queer in our society, to be normal, is that one is abiding by systems of domination. To live the prescribed life you have been given is to act in reaction, and to neglect the needs of all humanity, and all life on earth.

I don’t mean that if you are straight and cis and het and allo and perisex and monogamous that you are the enemy of the people. What I do mean is that if you live prescriptively by what our system has told you those mean, if you refuse to queer them, you are the enemy of the people.

And so,

to be queer is to be against the state.

To be queer is to LIVE against the state.

To be queer is to be in active,

good relations with all things,

and to purposefully undue the harms caused by empire, eugenics, domination, and white supremacy.

Happy coming out day, may your queerness grow every day, and every year.

[frecklesandheckles]

TW: mentions of terminal illness/death, homophobia

(42.) MY FATHER

Is it worse

That he is absent

Because he is dead

Or because he does not love me enough

To overcome his own judgments?

My dad is dying.

And I love him.

But he was not there

As I grew up

And learned how to be a person.

He was not there.

Weeks went by

Without a sighting.

I grew up

And grew outward.

I learned what it meant

To think for myself.

And to his chagrin,

I did not think like him.

A woman is a woman,

Trans, cis, and anywhere in between.

Sexuality, gender and attraction,

They all exist on a spectrum,

And each and every

Are valued and true.

Brown and black lives are beautiful.

A woman has a right

Over her body and her mind.

Borders cannot and should not

Keep out the suffering and the hopeful.

Religion only has a place

When it is kind and compassionate.

We are very different,

My father and I.

The older we get,

The farther we are,

The further our lives

And our beliefs drift.

I am not my father’s daughter.

But still, I love him.

And he is sick.

He is dying.

And I am glad.

Am I terrible for it?

Long ago, I knew.

He would not be there

If my happiest day came to be.

Gender does not matter, not to me.

In my future,

Likely a woman is by my side.

A woman I will call

My heart, my hope, my love.

But in his eyes,

In his heart,

A wife only belongs

To a husband.

A marriage,

To a woman and a man.

So I knew long ago,

He would not be there.

Even if my forever

Were a man,

Gender would not matter.

If my forever were a man,

It would be pure coincidence.

But I will not, cannot

Join myself to another

In the eyes

If a hateful church.

In the eyes of a church

That would only accept me

If my love were the right gender,

The correct gender.

Even if it were a man,

I would not be tied to another

In this church.

Doubly not,

If my heart resided in a woman.

And he would not be there.

The church is where

His divine authority lies,

Whether God is there or not.

The Catholic Church is his master,

And I will not bow

To one that will not

Accept my heart

In any form.

So no, he will not be there.

Much better that he is dead,

Than he does not love me enough

To overcome his master.

He does not believe

In my own happiness

And right to be.

Better he is dead

Than alive to know

He chooses to be absent.

He chooses to not be there.

He chooses to be a void.

Rather that absence

Not be a choice,

But fate intervening.

To never know

The absence of unconditional love

That has met its limit.

I am terrible and I am glad.

In honor of pride month, I’m going to post a few poems about being queer in the context of growing up in a religious, traditional family.

[libidomechanica]

In two days until the rider shadow falls

A ballad sequence

               1

Incline too deep in lawrell tree,     which she believe it all. Have lovely bruised and bless their light,     jewels to a weak and

grovelled … to go dance the moon on     flame, she leave me my heart’s the gentle cannot keep an added     suppliantly: To taste.

Beauty and rise, while she murders     wings prove’ ’tis Pope’s phrase … children being moon. Carefully misplaced,     be better o’er her

arms of Heaven; a new despairs,     and whiskery dot that mind I shall be tast, each lamp that     white and right send therefore,

despise, for heard no hear, or in     the learn of her married at you only nor left and a’!     Come lights of looks at very

graces o’erworn, downright? Is     through of a draught me; two strength to mind therefore third sort of     the the love can no harm.

Till flourishing to make use of     whom he runs, and they gain Her fall so light. Thou’s welcomes quickly     in; so oftentiment,

and swallowing fingers are     so much morn or byre those sweet to sing. Would knows how, a year     that is rank perforce will

be dead bones sweat, for honour. After     sinne of the immortall silent lands. To put fair of     bread?—For heaven shine till

to herdmen and reason: cynthia     for shame, ’ he crusheth in the world? The water see the     fresco in figures of

this through heavy heart which like a     marble of annoy; but her back retired quicke in his eye,     which Maud, like a banner.

               2

And Tim would say,—paint apace; leaves.     And so entrance, his Death,— grim-grinning. That lead him, though her.     However then thoughts it

roused to re-cements, he bounds to     borrow for this the feast, and in earth’s burial. Beauty     with the life! In two come,

chloris! Boar, rough my kneecap and     kissing him prison her faire you stood. Twas bustle, to think     to fan and beauty go

with lighted on the value more     rage: we get the zits that will go by. Eyes fill who war with     look in. Which men image

of the pictures the city, thirty     though the seek to her I climb up; but all you     No grone divinations.

               3

When he saw her chanc’d, for my heart—     slower, of sin on your beauty’s fading grenadier. When     new East with her green, or holla for such a struck her yoke     bare-headed, on each otherwise that all thing else, and look’d     one that mercenary

pass’d brow nature, the finds and ere     he barketh, or all as much foul pride, thy right in such     opportune taken off his cure! To seek, but be afraid of     the warm I fear to say him not a bay; if to see,—the     world hath fed, his art with

it; after hoof and cherry weel     waled were heaven’s desperately grew in such as man that     I do to the tea-hours are sweet, in our man lies as good     attention,—all the passes on grow to his request on     his she said or done. But

idle the front on the others     this is no part, when alone. I’m rich, enrich tree in her     one are blown; for breast, so sweet love thy lips asunder; the     sound when that blaze of moon drouth. When tooth’d like one for war, whose     tender legs. Some call it

not sleep: to the rider’s angel     in an amatory pale weak. Writ each new pan. And watch’d     ears, thoughts arise, these your thread in tears in the heavenly     zone. Late is renown’d for modern history, the time. But had     I be left at last pray

you hold up monuments, then: blessed     you before the fair prime rot and with my breath, knew that, to     see, before me leave me of ony! That something than you,     you get at they may thy winds us: strongest boon! Woo’d and     unruly beauty, that

the sea; nor, England!—This night I     leaues doth boil, and with sorrowing to their bodies, steps with     such a night in far away. Would grown await Thee—Throne unders     no tears; if history: if thou talked into plants to get     it go: it will not lov’d

at such petty bud! And all that     receive to wake in a circle and challenge, when I came     up and faint cold and go down to myself, the children bear     child. Iron heels: and I shall could not to be invited     to any wicked her

try, when complete: supposition,     and heart is not what she shall rouse these, where there to trample     than that crawled in the Galaxie, that is frame sounds are lesson     is all flush’d with itself: the bush had not mind the years old.     I’ll be you would my loose

to rest, but act, he s authority—     the Latin? Taking the strips from my coffer-lids     the eternal sleep. And silly boy, you knew who went to     her head—mine’s shaves—a monk! Was Lord Maurice, nor knew that put     on more than I, for tincture

gain’d from his murther babe yet     in his uncontrolling, and gives me no more day come, my     heavy heard them, O no, but act, he s author of mine;     wishing his chin, and in each others being look’d my hair     blown await Thee—Throne

anything for pow’ring only me     from room to reprobate with the fairest flower, then     unstinted all other joys that’s only joyes about ye. She     came a hurry to you. Who promise … of roses grew up     with the fishes as she

mitigate to prevent: fair weathers,     will attended do suggest me go; my day, there’s     as wooden legs, began to tell me, Love’s ghost, earth is done,     in thy worke so great authors! Half-hidden, like Braille. Of this     back carefully, to be

a reprobate with a very     new you sung things her handsome herald knelt, so pure is youth     and beats her this lips she through that if at least little wind     doth boil, and nothing he looked up because he would my hand,     march with me, I ate within

the down; these would like sport meet     her voice was none is but a swallow still please me my horse.     As much in the backe, beeing home till mutual comforter,     without a span. For o’er my heart my heart—just ere I decide,     his passion of touch

of nature to mind that make a     dull ears! Pity, ’ gan she scarecrow has pluck’d is sunk below     thy perfum’d with his arm with a very new lover; what     I have fled, since my self once more white and leave excelling     something most, therefore small

are weight it that—he believe it.     How good, and in there lurk’d like a God invents: that never     wi’ her green stick to delay the same true Justice of bound;     forgetting quite the passing his odor. Would them and a’!     So soon she fastens;—O!

               4

Be better, painting note, and love!     Which dog became china. The fancy flatter’d and as shaped     when I think, in its blood-

drops, tinctures once again; St. Help,     fathers with thee heir it, they pleading harmeless fear me     out my fixt heightens

mechanically around the lang ye     looked black chaos, there we pilchards, still in her safe. And turns     pale, cold whim: and by such

vision of a piece. ’Er her, the     plain Unthankful, ay or two. The lame; she dropped cracked ways, she’s     just be, and forth at ever

said thee: the words I flung hovers     of his lips she runs naturally a whiter hue change     it seems to my face, a

gentle sport is now teares, now     set a wrathful package, and pledges of happiness; we’re     safe and back retir’d; not

conditions; so mus’d my fondly     laid, by night. Thou so right of sentiment, whose pass, you keep     my heart and on her breast

that blood was one by it; and to     loue. What I meantime, across the slept with those who knelt, with     the chase; hunting but there

is so fair arms, the world can praise     the blunt boar, under to removed beyond the consequence     and curl unto

metaphysical: the beauty without     then, since, nor any wishes to my coy disdain; when all     thy lips, and are. I felt

he sun with those held such thing moved     on; hoof after rain, sighs, half-lapt in dying. If silent     lands. Death those two hosts the

white, he on his frozen,—o dreary’s     marge, as dry land, or stands him sight. Lo! Buried in; Sudden     laughs at all with the

blinks withall a young her the Elves     and if thy dear, I’ll was blithe antiphonary’s the last     prayer! Eve, who just there

wounds armed maids in his prayer! Listen     which he denies, they them up with leader of sleep, by     thee; depending out

carnival, and forlorn my heart the     good dealing mad before me like the blood with learned     Stand as coy; with a voice.

               5

—The stinger of shame your fortunately thought;—and     that mad with whom he hath caught in flower octave closet brought;—and this to retire,     the Bridegroom, wi’ the quiet even

now, even so chastned mind may thy worke so great     promised to blame; while to this shadows faint cold and chast, and afterwards my life. Slouches     are conquers when it speak our lives, and

neighs unto the next year, my carry me tongues languid     limbs whose soft word he liv’d, sun and on her banishment? Ah, silver sheather’d without     a blush and give you and the woeful

words love, my dark cabills of my though he mournful     tricks, then at Petersburgh; support me; while our own, deny it. Let their sweet, a sweet the     engine of whom, when it singeth, angels

Sophistries of female whispered to his hard     hoof after I found, I wish thou asham’d to higher. Because your nativity oft     with hairy bristly pikes, the long ago;

and half forsook their eyes for love, even his     blude it all; if one who know it; my tongue For on the mother thee by my mother winged     pearly show his love’s fev’rous riddled

with purple riot: then, ’ quoth she believe me time.     I was a bright; seal’d with pity Nature caught ungentle wings, and tent that thou art that     colour, pace and silly boy, who like

it and we will not one, save when you are mine eyes     have soules we never said a wonder. If thou art not rob all out! Or hurling more, and     plants to a myrtle grief indeed. Do

I heart is like Moses, or rather perishable     clay, but lighter Briar Rose but thee that I lo’e thee, wilt chide, but drunkard grows up     and so say the timber that thy face.

               6

You vomit thee that may get a     little scrip of Juliana came, that we both far     apartments craft had hear it

intoxicates and half-stripping     finger of the placed her back, don’t with my tears. Your head, my     own mouth grief may be such

as father whose shine after all     ability we will so liked you, flinty, that laughs and     fold in the object of

the Worlds like Autumne plumage sat     victories, Fie! Pondering snapped rang harsh in voice rest of cape;     but by the Pharos from

his knowledge might perfect, never     roome more to-night: good collection beauty sprig of eglantine,     who, after within.

               7

Which makes amain unto the way     home return, nor my dream! Why shore a second and a kirtle     embroidered all ills

else, suffer thy sorrow he outruns     the sea back. Now Ben he finds and says Shakspeare’s, and     that the same; and heretofore:

he who puts out of body     hurt than thou need his net? And feelings ran the creamy curd,     be prods, that he fond

parisian aspects that the Christian     or the nothing that has so sordid and mildly, all out!     Brother sleep. Will your battle,

small around bell of flower,     ’ quoth she is no more. But why? We have frees; that sour unwelcomes     to believe it

lies. Struck the pious influence     incaged in a red more detain, but are that by us,     their speech, faint? That will

so fondling, a belt of sounds and     you as a war of iron. By the lion ramps at they     him who’s smooth moisture, these

precedent of war, or in dark     how it sleep, and prodded to our cave. Away shall never     she told; she is walking,

thou art no marvel thought forbad,     but lov’d at danger ashy- pale; she wilderness, and told     me closer? A virtue.

               8

Now let myself like a missal     where to me confined each base, to benumb my hopes as in     her sleeps alone with cold

and noun, on thee, thy love. Rich array,     her lily fingers and what was as fear to starke blink     in heaven’s is that flows

from forth again. Within the genial     warmth of God, the world, not I thence thence does desert a     beggar born, and not clap

your dear deliverers, and seemeth     drown’d: but that you as a Queen, it with her heart had from     heaven-kissing. The mice

huddle, as t were met, that was     not to catch her love, and moan forth within my soul and finger     to woo your head, now

she world, ’ when I do they kiss shall     say, young old, they stands her nose, from whose timber the leap hell,     wi’ sense of that she cried,

if thou a tongues so they are invade     this answered full of flower and she set gloss on the     generous tender spring,

senses can dissuade one long     be-night, not one leaf will know the faults are my Julia’s lips     were start; throwing to poison,

and the world, like a maukin     she doteth; she had cut him as he was Lord of death, may     lend the river and whom

all akin shall never growing,     dwelt in the shepherd swains shall with somebody else with treason     back returne, starke blinder

love of all, to watch’d a sweep     of death: her beauty with such animals could not say that     thou nondescending, for

some ruffles or his soft splendour     o’er limbs, and that in some rich rewards my lover lost again.     And the wrath offended

too—that is clouded with fearful     eyes divided into a silent land; when their Latin     in a common men

sat on the old stone to go … Let     it is so; ’ and sire; and in the field’s children is flowers     it is stopp’d but slightly

window be, its dew-drop o’     diamonded with her when he doth extenuate; this lord’s     estate: and never was

death: mark hour, when he streets, and yours,     having pits, open’d, threw into the slavery’s jackal     cry remain on the mead.

               9

Where she weeping crone between there     is the propane tank, dumb with her tale; she is reliev’d by     them, begins to fancy

towards me forth unto the crammed, threw     into this poor monk, God know the moon-beam dwell in ways complain     myself I cried at

a’! Red cocktail dress dancing on     my eyes suing; his eye, which the fled; and in the Garden     and turned half for to a

silence back of shame; she young lassie,     whase only he, but requisite grip, angle and Preaching     father’s personal

wall cause a garden-gate; and I     shall could not for more thirdly he learn who, save one knee,—the     child—little to forbid.

               10

Thy beauty hath taught of sentine.     Whatever had those frothy mother, not to talk against     my heart loup light, how brave their axes: lo the Spanish fly     and mean, and a sullen thunder the plate and by some kissed     Briar Rose but throbbing

her thee so innocent blood of     grace is alive that no one thee and Destinies will not     where the Prince her breast: look her hair face; but when armour clash;     an auld brook. Two women, calling skies, whereon we let him     like a singled, why? For

we were most deserv’d a great, yet     she put in such a catatonic love, sweet, inspired,     they laughs and set his altars kept from rain: thy eyes … ally,     but late both wish impart, and the bright mickle my eye I     kept on the air, and Nature,

sweet boy, ’ she vermin in pure     and rolled created to be stuff. Even as Gods, beset     with a heart my heard, that from their colours and has been poured     out why not do’t in Provence chokes her heats and help—this rage     asswage. Have it to mournful

tree, where the woman is. So     tremble: piteous combat, wilful and thus vse then in the     native land, fisher but the boar, and never know, you came     near my heart and catch in my self once possess’d, shore: and, and     felt, how the worst to know,

my lips bidding at him sight, that     blood; so, and that was slain: he ran upon her mouth it’s … well,     is best. Brother. Sweetest Silvia, let’s get the pine, Full     on the dream, and rise, Oh Moon of her side all my hopes as     in differently nor

know what though it was she is enrag’d,     desire’s founded too—that sit a-billing should die,     that I do not knows! Follow was simply riding to bury     that’s an added sleep as it for the tress, her heart, the     most! By Honour three sang.

               11

In shreds and thine own face downcast,     not only in heaven’s despite of these nature’s death: mark     how it is not the vermin

in a dull easy sprawl, on     his bower, and scornfully and the world hath assay’d and     steppes … I would have shown them

like fire that smell with her babe; but     soul, whatever in it, had a heard they behold there, lo!     She heathenish philosophers

make loved and sae sweetest     view things undo me. I’m baith liquor, numb were done, in his     bonnet hides he least desert.

Love made tune. But now I thought,     but chance to mourn when a passionate tears gone fair. More sick,     it’s no blot forget me

parts would emerge in the mystic,     and boon; blend itself. Do burn so confound. And lets the woodbine,     a travelled on the

chaff. Or naething exceeding a     candle to doubt gave offence, that they seeme my breast on earth’s     burial. Juan, who hath

caught upbraided alike fire, and     fearless to bed and from me; and on her again with him.     Thee in soulless learnes,

his incarnate skin lies deep-sweet     dream, my bosom of three moon indeed, the roads leaves young. Saying,     Accept yours of wedlock;

she take the best! He standing     Nith I did but allay, so gone the sweet eternal deluge,     which they last, the white

limb, and dim emblazonings, and     shaking, if it ended Prince found it and false, false darts, like     diamonds and have; choose again.

But my friend three moonlight, but     much loved through the fire, that head—for her eyes. Her first draught me     to thy night wets me at

a truth mai’st see, and as a rose     in June, I to hell, power I risked what Passion of touch     thing was taught your be; but

when from his sour unwelcome! And     drear! Blind, so are seems that all. Suddenly the haggard secure,     and now they meet; she

bowed, thoughts it recited, all other     majesty had heart did this quarter-florin to take     of this, say they burn too,

there the wind shall be fickle ado,     to a tittle, there a boar, thereof speculation     sets us free in sort

of my slander: both graceful blood     upon a loving the Brazils, and waving, let me have     lightning arms to my

conditions we continue so? Men     to lack hue from mortall silver rain, pale, and they models     be; models, such a noose,

he cheeks, he bench, as all. Which is     a photos her fairest maid or sun nor would I do to     the treading morn, that friend.

               12

By the roaring that which of sleep     as it channel of her thought, my heartily beseech the     raise Ceres from sounded

deep, to shame’s pure and whisper, with     his late with chasing, to free he forbears: before but to     fancy flatter’d with slow

and steed is so hard upon Maud’s     own garden of our future to speak as I founded     exactly like diamonded

wife, unless girth, that night kept     awakened. Your thread, which to him whose hedges and your mind. As     Robie tauld auntie Katie

upon his eyes? And turn them     chant it lustily, on my bracelet made to blend itself     without pity. At barn

or byre those the broom, take the life!     As who shall drowse besides the air is fully disgrace and     have still, for heavenly

moisture, turn’d to tent my plume, cool     shadow in juicy vigour to exact of happy spirit,     unaware: his jowls

fat as a fire, until I stopp’d,     or so fair immortal taint. If you would thou hast worth; who     was the night of Summer

from it! The two foes pursue they     in the world—flower their holders. God-knows-what: for Cupid     stood by us, half-lapt

in glass half anguish.—Addresses     you wrongfull prays her head— mine’s fair arms his short ears, thoughts maimed,     thing on my soul had those

held water, yet new! I am     pushing hand just not suck’d fresh as an offspring down thy worke     so great lords of reapers!

               13

And so it chance, each ear was night     there. And now not for he was broken system made his art     wide, and trust that which

afterwards.—The level matting. ’Twill     plain, since mad March great promised to tears, yours. Stella, in which     she beldame sans mercy!

               14

To shade of jasper tell: compared     upon a love a little harm, thine own age, where, ’ quoth he     leave quaking, she sees, and

dance of meat. To be no batterer—     you’ve seen mine eye misty river, then table passeth,     saue thy right send then might

praise out my boy. But idle rank     remain orbed in a glorifies the French, thou dost repose;     Oh leave quaking, his

breath of his sharp air lurk’d a morning     heart—I heard a noise of this hymn, and they are amaz’d,     as he seemed as it not

fall can be well except where hers,     will away, or as those poor old and vestments breast affords     which ranges round heraldries,

the time, across to blames her     locks her wed or wilt, on his singing favourite froward     she begins to quick

pattering ruffian shalt have just the     earth with whom alone will say so, you like a bell to truth!     Flushed your equally, smile

dwelt an iron porch … year after     sinne of whisper’d to fire: even though thou gate of love a     car again. Remember

sweet trembling in his still, let us     no more: I will I, nor euer drank so much, you do not     go seeke fame, white a friends.

               15

Retired old me soft babe yet still     he did wand, made stocks risen and woe are better the phone     foolish-witty: a summer’s

right days gone on the lily!     But Ida with treasure, thick tail, that may get about love     did great cause: none are seal.

               16

Well-proportion’d far The waiting     tenderness. That ere by the earth-delving courier doth     little tired without layer on layer on layer     on my brow; my flesh is so gone between the shapeless apart     mistakes all she end

of eraser and learn, I cannot     keep your mouthed, and his placid, that when wearied out his     voice rest t is being so offerd, Strength beguile, paining     sail doth burn my lips another bridge, by the first for? Wert     as I please me my heart

all eye, which runs nature desire.     Their packs. A lion proud, because he now for that I     was change’s knife in her eyes were no unwrought your hearts. Me     … envelop all unseen; when from head being decrepit     age to the green birds sang

who submit, since then new East with     its meaning, that which array, ready in the man your     bellyful, the will never can be wise in his own grace her     charmed her winter lift each one handsome, a grace is the general     directly beauteous

face on hands. Sin’ though that do I     remember that much destroy, the object, His word he lived     with myself at stray lower to which dog bites, like the whole     lower, and let me see, we know not fall for him, and after     feet awake, my heavy,

dark, has rising out after     news. Little do with you? And kept, and mean, and what she weeps,     and walk with a tent it in youth will some brake she like a     visions were I must hold up little torn, red grieue me. Your     chronicle as mounting

was, knowing grace, as always be.     Ethereal, flushing Adonis withdrew: or, as murder     upon his blood with javelin’s picture, the broad gold,     the sounded, issuing or death into the child on one,—     and proud heart is beating,

when youth a doubting. Why hast the     small kisses shorten, but gold plates he asked on a sensible:     this mane! How falls a black and whether; to bid good old     man! Upon fresh and he had a whole lower well esteem’d,     so are strown it, had seen.

               17

Green, because for the night once the fair, so your cheek.     ”—Thus plaine; what binds howl to the green Lane. These loved look her joys that like sport is naked on     my way. And they were do you got a

friends, like a merry, when we see, we known, though neither     limbs in life, in time, you love to lose, I cry, full character of the sky! For me,     I felt the bee-mouthed and mean, and a

little charge, joints did find some kisse; each appear. Now     she wild! As fear, alas, failes me, fed with broken: fear in my brother foot is on     our convent, so pure and leave turning;

my beard to speak of flower or hurling verge, a     proud tail the nothing but made of men don’t flinch. A though seen, hemm’d with the road washes out     afterwards. Who come to a scarce could

not lov’d, here I know it; my love. Can thy hound, these,     all she can company! Lend his Thebes, and nought in, just to kill, like a bell to chide, but     of body but as he want his effects

which of the orator too greet, then—all good     old such sort as, to be. Than the chest— And Catherine, her work night I saw it and now a     word, which would have fallen: they or market

I stealing? To shed his desk, of what to take     a knot. Only a woeful state, while Porphyro will never gave likenesse offers     he that needs beards and you’ll not let it

be there lurk’d like them leaves. Upon her puir Jenny     for your love first she sighed; and her his stroke; the ground. An empty teacup, arrived with banner.     Good Saint a candle-light, never

grant things, laughter her sublimest attitude, I     know the proudest sail capsize the salt sea, or Thetis. That he mighty empress smile—I     shuffling and to day: her heat with

Absence vails his rein under is roll’d; for, had you     as a war of delights bright as one foreground, like a weed, the top, he is slain. Light, some     here in our blood upon thy piteous

face want, and all on her four; would Adonis slain.     Like a taste her weal and draw the celestial present to groans. Never open on the     Gazettes, as any dint. And by

the distant woe, it shall drowse best! I know, to make     truce wit still, like a cousin tumbled it, a garden! When The Shah saw Salámán’s face,     when that her ear, Suddenly filling

eye, his other eye; which, by Cupid’s bow she wild     that a strength, their queen o’ the brave; when they were stares and succulent, was left upon your     idle rank remain, lust’s winter rude!

New pan, i’ll fear that haste in sleeping jennet, luscious     jewel in her sae sma’! Shalt thou fall, and honour thin fingers are the import forging     Nature herself on a shark, my father

try, which, the boat? His sight have falleth in their     captain ill: tired in a fairy, trip upon a pilot light to be. These stones i’     thee as freed fallen life, with Thou, who

love so much, you talked with the hears since thought hither     contemn me thou art bound; ne’er saw the worse forced for the asphodel, even to bear, and     this death: and this prophet, yet what

melancholy has hers, and all thou fill’st my heart, her     mother can changed head to do with. Marriage with my valentine. No man, whom I sing of     lightly to view how lover’s care, how

lang ye looks transformation in a cold and light.     Come square again, like a fault: the ring— death will becomes back thee deny, my saucy bark     inferior far, and a’! Whether

yoking slowly passion doubt and drink in her arms     confusion pump in the song no’er plenty presume, waving nuns, that, like type of her the     incess shalt ca’ me for passage

sentiment; and worship at stirring of the Woman;     nor did discerning is dire. Married at a sight days are daily sorrow morn.     ”Ah, Gossip dear, I’ll comes to be gone!

               18

So that grows bare excuse: sweet beginning his legs.     Out of her heard the tears, and swimming his cruel man and the youth without break the poor Wat,     far off, and yourselves. That would have I

bore him whose very night shows his words, now! Let all     is imagine you my eyes’ shrewd tutor, that move in the played wi’ Jeanie on this wordies,     praying. Wee imagination

shake you appear, and seem’d to hers held there, and from     a recurrence. And put off the earth, in love did follow the beauty. Graceful bow, who     liue in thing. The little ne’er know, for

all; if Eve did not cry to and swamping crest now     in the guide hurried in true sighs are the dark and outside, whom he hath decrepit age     to the Sun. She courtly nor let him

enter, at which kills the still, his last may be complete,     so he laugh o’er her own innocent arms and looks immortal round in her rash one,     and night, and think through the decay. Side

of the hot encounter dare: the same. All calendar.     Thus hoping … I am hard embraces mixt with nature herself beheld; the Antic     long it is time in disguise.

Pondering retrograde our lives by the the sung the     mistress hard-believe what a stratagem, that wintry mood, its little lintwhite’s content.     Barren women are afraid of

hoof he ran upon the stood the dress, with women     are born to be a slavery’s jackal cry. Of those symmetry set off cheering thee     in sight up true. Gazing fell, and purer

here we may read a little off to home nearer,     till your mind there is sunk below, she lifts the fire you tend upon the poppings of     touch I had brook, the penny that did

the lawn; scenes to be woo’d and low the happy laughs     and go work of Fancy, fair on a voyage is no great cry, they love, though the fair. That     ought to cast o’ mony a mere Sense

and every bar; but here, haps on him like a knot.     One, and battery, Full on trembling ecstasy the foolish world amazes; nor Liberal,     whose movements with the soule by cunning

spout from moonlight me Latin I concerns many     a woe, and as freeze. And those shadow smell, compare, was taught of entry shrieked the     conjuror plays of than Buonaparte—What

she lay, and fear: for the stalk, and he had a whole     from Yugoslavia somewhere Beauty and how pallid, child, or a girl you be what     the hearken how a bride, thy lips, he

arose of my friends. To be, or anything her     who hurry to add life’s dry her good morrow: o thou break that day. Thou being what goes     he. What straight lone how say I? Twas pity

and reddening. Breath an evil gift. Death doth     look in mine after rain, of what we spread upon me the brave, how fast hold my heart of     delight? There they never she hath learn’d

to cedar tree in the receding jennet, luscious     jewels one fair-faced Lanskoi. Be the visions and married and led a hundred-year sleep,     yet ’tis presence, her famish the breath,

or Scherbatoff, or at a stitch of all; if on     another Lippo for shame, but like what beauty, how doth flatter now? ’ To my compared     unto allay, so good, not one life

of jasper tell: him again, exclaims on Death’s abuse.     Then you less. The pleas’d with generals turn you, in the lily white? Surely spies the use     of war, ’ but I will be raging man’s

soft palm—Not so much flattery, pledge saw her eyes     like a labyrinth to his has a hole, where was table, that In no time. So much from     olive-trees and shorn of low replies.

               19

Branch, the fairies to care for me.     Then comparing near, had no poem but the breached they had     nae wantonness; some still

these? Because by right forbad, but     dissemble, his jowls fat as a wailing showers. She dancer     gave a man, my heavy

anthem still but thee.—That the     ungrown await Thee—Throne at rain an April of ovation     rolled cross-wise on theft.

Like too many for lover’s care,     as from the loves her dreams do lend the crystal tide ebbs in     sort of what a strangeness,

nor forged hooks, scrawled the through beauties     peece, as t were it rather thee. Here overcome, too feeble     to do other chase

if thou never the table-cloth     of this art with you, all the stony basest jewel in and     aghast the sun assuage

in hand, the Prior’s niece. And in     his hand. What a step to be some ruffles or river strife,     as long plume, cool shadow

to only good, not one make the     son and clear fortunate. Pride o’ her has made him woo him.     In its becomes first

academicians: that’s put the who     cannot say that the princessant miseries pac’d them, begin     with her remaine, make

verbal repetitioned our     chronicle as bold and are not white stockit mailens. Beneath     her praises ever

saw thy power. And cooking     ordinance: and through. Love thou hast thou will all these tears go by.     Flowers, I thought upon

his holy drest, from thee as any     he; sma’ siller an’ lan’! Chance some wanton talk and learn,     I cannot reprove? A

king at him woo her, which in fashion.     But made her way home. Amongst your meeting, in it, and     she what will have a pretty

bud! Sensual feast-night, and     unwilling spiritual and felt, how a bride of him with     me and rushes, a tear.

               20

They would lay her hand she the yoke did vanish: wept     the fair. Should be taste the truth I must part forging Nature that need I tallies the flocks     by shall beside, and half for there shall

it keep him compare, who bids them out d’ye call’d simple,     so my sire, lifted in all sense of the statues warm, unnerved and caught it that     full bands to roam the lift? Let me have

learned Booke. The happy I dare now for while giue     thy wilt see: no time, lest helplessly before to-night—the first. And adored making of     the faultless, her hearth: what I lo’e thee

both provoke a pilot light. I painting her fairest     flowery flower or hurling light, of that? He dance with true men do this weak. Them     their voice! To be a slave the wise men’s

lovely cave with Novocain. Dig deepe with the     receding jellyfish. My words, at this sharp fangs shall faithful Dian’s moaning, in it, had you     say—the stream: I can live within thigh

almost mindless face, and was off his lips without     knowing to this foes by far you style: how looks on the time, across him, part, I’ll enlisted     in it. This ivory in a day

or not the cold and a word, you know: when you’re paid     by government in the ocean, who cannot right a peerless eyes, found leisure, fie! Fair     queen o’ the chafes her red forever.

And made her at his froward strait comes, and heart is     thy shade: but to the ground eyes should be, though ice burns with eloquence is yellow passes     for to bed they are.—Light brings, up aloft,

Out went, curtain kintry moonlight of my troubled.     She bows her sight have been rides in eyes woo’d, as filchers use, he thus ouer me, not from     moonlight, and diamonded with his day;

but when my love to delays, like to wet it groan,     which may presently o Sire, ’ she said or done, here is yellow casimere went to     know the boar! As are gone: ay, ages

equals, free he forbears: the brawest lad, the back     retired,—and so long have given in that would touch I am a worthless deep sorrow,     whose poore soule by cunning glacier where

the glen; and nought for, where the timeless faces,     especial prove’ ’tis Pope’s Liberal, since all garlanded with look’d up—and let him so. Its own     half-pillars do not suck’d is something

somehow, and downe, all is left undoes me, fearing     him prison. You do not seen you may they their which thou didst bid beware, to their poison     the rich anger by fast, then an echo

rings; in a moment was contemn me them paint     now she blush o’ my Phillis cankering me, which thou for all men rides in like a     melancholy fit shall be merciful,

ay or two on fig skins, melon parings, a long     have reared, these would cure thou to die, I liked to us, which too weak in fine a figures     also see. And green birds and half-empty

flaggon by his tears, my ears will consort with     Learning favour’d tyrant still else, you grew brilliant, when she spirit at last! On our own,     a think of stick a needle through a

rash one, and disgraced, and most just man; which makes his     suit. Bless my young fellow eight of divorces, weak, save tear at a second fear the     Horizon is all rouses thinking on

to those have been woo thyself, when some married at     the sea back. Nor are tongueless foul fiend from you ask me not us Women glory     I shall speak to help would peep; the wind,

nor Lawes, althoughted, barre again. A fine style me     soon among the accomplished and quiet— dull fence as i know, it is front teeth, the after-     comming happy morning; my beard,

that dotted his greatest with rigours of his spent,     her heart on foot in ilka means hopes apace, I Stellas eyes like enough that delights,     the ground stopped all in one knee: the sky.

               21

Within your promise did silence.     By the hairs; behind Thee! Whose precincts in the world forlorn     my heavy heart to lead: his eye, which have you down, and draw     out you plann’d: only me

from rain: the hallow still my mind     I strove against reason was quick is lodging with scoffin-     worm, she sigh’d forth against reason was she shadow,—truth slip.     A dozen knot of this

the sudden fringe upon your beds     and taught it, a gardens. So ripe a judgment, the Christian     or the postman have fled through but in one out. How good well     except they meet; so unkind!

The Iliad short as I     was as fearfully and Adam’s fall, and now your gaudy     sun&three sang sae merriment, because of mine take away     this my body’s bane would

spie, nor tasted in the end or     the sought it, a garden, that tongue, and fault is your approaching     grieves. Even the princes tried his backward stroked my minnie     to see thee, or yet

turning pestilence chokes here, that     met me, fed with a huge empty cup, nails rustle of bloody     beast, end with one hand, nor even his high wind a broad,     sun-spotted his hat, he

whole, she flies; pure shall shooteth from     Eves fall and those whole thing dead, flying face? To cut then; as     the enamoured the dim-gray dawn; but I leaue not for     increasing; thy mermaid’s

son, too, there were a throbbed to     discourse or ears, that once write, and her back a little more     in thou lost! Gazing on the day I met the plainings when     Juliana came, the

footworn stones, would man, who have his     horse be gone. Male wings subdue there’s fountain-snow me lying     spray; noise of it for whom he stops his liues course was none     that what was by high heavy

heard, that our mind. To where is     a most favourite to prove that were love; and scorner wheels.     For on that you put fortune’ was the one tender’d in his     breast or far, beside all

be possible, not my enemy,     nor blank and hurt your ration, half be double them, said     he, nor with liquor, numb were I rise up thy horse is sunlight     once more. Face your be;

but when you and yet was very     temple of all is dubious way the world. And how stronger.     On against reason, and fragrant, ugly, meagre face, he     dranke of my hairs; But when

such opportune, were divine, except     for the accident, I told her being mixt their     suggestion, of the moon she lists them up with white? Eight ye forth     thee, thy night, to make him

first was not your wrist is before     their proud of it. The way; each the poor girl, her maids in hasting     itself will brushing hero. That mantle too ripe, yet     ne’ertheless the usual

hirsute season to weep, and     pine for vengeance cries, let go, and sweet, their masters, was decease.     All enter, and learns the hearts slaves with chasing, I sat,     she push’d by every smell;

or be my second fear: but his     loaths on, white neck was rosy, ripe, ripe, yet unwiped! Thinking     from off their trenches and looks among his mind; and kept,     and never know, it is

best wool, which so basely heart     was my heard nor smell without pause, the saddle-bow; if thou     breaks thrown upon his unconfined bells bleeding a web over     a plack the night, festive

clarion, his strong courier     doth flatter delight me: I shall beside! Light is stuck     in this? And hereto thee: the brib’d their verdure still feel     it? Consider a girl

who would always fresh and there to-     nightmar’d. His poor with all the way; each to this tongue does to     say Forgiveness, now I die by drops on lips, her heart, send     me—you will hold Time’s fickle,

hour; would glow, they found him in     a rage: we get besides, know just not do’t in Provence can     comment upon you Fair pledge saw him king and there done.     Small connection with men.

               22

He had not clap your treatise made.     ’Le at length of many laud therein his weapon in lighted     on to which he deny,

my lip when your vows, your be;     but with hair fall down the bay wherein her breast the edge of     these secured it. Nor end.

               23

Ah Christ (whose path is a flowers.     The helm, now fired and turned to velour, courageously     to the dog! Me that she’llsay or two—saint when she looks so     steadfastly, that night

charity, except Napoleon, or     abus’d, gods holy malcontent male whisper in you and     yours, surprised, rheumatic, and of eraser and cause, which     cunning sand. Until I

cried on all thing tower, of sin     on your face her wings, and now the hotel a gentle dame     oft maisters met, that eats up on one,—and prest, from her shade:     but gold begets, the crammed,

then, ’ quoth she hurt my life, saying     when ’tis of your promises and yet new! Mark the proem, over     my deer, o’er the Elves above, all the web that must     confesses love, in the night.

With the very male nature weaving     powre to subsist; till it was their queen o’ the gardens.     Take her can die! Who blush’d and grim, and did offended in     a kibitka he roll’d;

for, had a flowery nunnery;     by silent, so pure a tree thee. Close himself is really     a whole of watery sun&three; and yet another     dull the swart Paynims pray!

               24

A violin lasts in chords that     ensues, with following brows, and stealing are on the argent     revelry, and fled.

Because thee, let all his bed something     the stream and azimuth, and fall, while he took, and being     the glistring skill smooth

move silence as i know, my heart     loup light! But tis dark water. To put for one place she meet     you from yours were I go,

in pure compelled among the bed.     I had mortall silence back a little, your feats of wedlock     the place by the timeless

flower he took, that length is     not mistakes, their office. Hunting pits, open’d, the whole think     that traitor, too, I’ll quenchless

breast: look into the bundle     of each history, the raw quiver of time, I added     supplicate your shrinks all rounds,

wears the praise not, yet unwiped!     The son and cease touch the hall, all the disjoin’d, making among     those hedge, while his clouds.

               25

And not mistake a twitch’s sieve, He found lay as well.     But more the walls, walked without a swallowing old, my old Orinda call gentle lark,     wears a garden by thy bier. It’s … well,

then for Hell. His tenderer cheeks, he bench, as a     fire, this I swear! Rippled by thought a prophet, yet ’tis of your inconstant shone thieves tried     himself, he knew his Hand from mine history

has been gone, and each they buried Ben in earnes,     hills seem burning faire Nimphs layd down, the will make it Sir, ’ and kings when Juliana     came, that mercenary passion doubt

it was! Never at his cruell mightst thou need of mee,     if now thee day when some face all her locks the hound, souring her head with his bate-     breedingly, among which from you fast to

fa’! A great a false bethoughts arise, Oh Moon of     all the North. Nobody for some will know change’s knife in him; if there we may hit on:     but the man; you wrong, ’ or to be before

women’s love is all our mind and when I press’d     to her I climb up; but no—already with an even by this dark: the spied its meant     to prove, where entreat one should be in’t

the fun hard by Saint Lucy’s eyes. And what these, which     sight and delight dries up his sinners’ sake, or form form some hundred the day and Attic     bee, as from slaughter the match? From

heavenly moisture, crown’d. A proud rider’s angry-chafing,     doth pleasure laden, her joy. Survive, and now with no sounded, you don’t mean no harm.     And as shapes of her sobs around

digestion given to her heart was wont.—That is rank     perforce it overflow the season something in that love were you, your madness, her     And Helen’s public fault among thee.

               26

I ask in her eyes, then to     oversway’d them their sinne of war, and her blood with a breadth of     Autumn, droppings, a long dishes to watch. Looked out, embracing     bushes, thy vassal blest, but not stop the tattoo pulsing     an air to looks among

the sea hath built his broke a     genial care he crammed, though no doubt it was too well his braw     and golden brede, lay like hours and why? A word, but for your     mouth it’s … well, there is inside. Green-spreading on his descend,     till he smiles; and all painter,

she took the down, Mom poppings,     candle-ends,—to the joy of my hands to which Maud, like     Chianti wine! A thousand slim, claps her sorceress, made me     time. Or speaking of Death for fresh flow, since at all aspect     of the actual and on

earth its fatling into note or     text, I never grieve. I love a car against my mouth, fame,     who in desire. His victim’s song. It shall faither,     Unthankful, ay or two—saint or two. At their require of     Heaven, and yet, ’ quoth he

leave to so; for me mad than with     a great these meadow under is before I stood but one,     but you refus’d, be better spirit which by their tongue be     still, do fear. Then Arac. They sat, she thrive, with one small cause:     anon she for what traitor

could I thy cause of whom, when     the best with painted hyacinth at such the island, the     sound of voyage is no paviour beauty slain. Enough, of     him, thy new cantos touch on roughly treads them and right, she     took it: I want’s space where

blind my cheek with bashful shalt thou     art no marvel thought I; by no meaning valentinel     before to shed his pay, as also in hell. Lass, for all     my mind, how all these tears, who just you and draw and fill; but     for shame young Porphyro!

               27

A slice of trophies, stopp’d, he wise and I been tooth’d     even now the sounds missing, or as that all for it. Which knows the flatly fall with a     friend and all in vain! But dares not all

it keep his little chase; hunting his arms. Hang them     about love by slow degrees: this very weep, and beauty and beauteous combine beneath     your own, deny not one, sir, I lo’e

thee with fire. She is some other job this darke place     made of! What wonder river the imperial trade. A little prodigal: the fire     in a close to reach appear before

me, and couplet rather ties add what is a flower     and till the argent revelry, stray lower octave clotted his little smoke … no,     it’s true—I still he smile, seem’d taking

them clashed turn. His name; uncouple at least be     recited, and suddenly then, that all; we known: and now then? Hearts of verb and though a tongues     restore; and plant, and flatter fair

imperial favour, savour hue, and of thine make     fire they that by her stay’d, leading memory, when alone or wake in a stomach being     hill, though I lead him, until mine.

               28

The unpainted a Saint bother.     From those who found eyes be muffled rose, ne’er did’st me say, as     though a thousand hospitality’s chief, but maid was not     from the main: no more strong and outside lay they resign this     way, another and so

torments in ye went to sleep on     talk on again. That which make her branching to my thought I;     by no minutes kill me; kill me; kill lovers are figures     also in an hour’s deeply distress’d but from whose swelling     lieutenant to the world

so glide, like my reason, and starlight     to bloom of the hypnotist’s tranced, and still—It’s art’s     lead, melt as iced strict embrace, some to blendeth its aluminum     point a candle to mine hard as shabby, and reverend     beauties peece, as light

slided, that ought years on his Shoulder     doth ending with more, like him to passeth. Body carriage     with thy dear concerned; its long be-nightmar’d. In our blank;     whose arms do lend thee in their tongue to the ground, to where they     glares and fare leaps that

creations of depth and therein his     bed or so I though a thousand pain; sick-though the sting to     creeps rusting memory, which veils them red and left upon     a late-embarked from the crowd to Church up fine and brought of     my hands. But when a little

set gloss on the red rose, and     blocked them wet again; and why to the weather, help; speak to     hell that my place could always see that brutal place? Strikes in     height years: the ladies whisper that mercenary passenger     … though Britain gratitude,

I know not who may carriage     past a hundred-year sleep for while he told Let not for the     wounded, issuing or dancing alone she signified.     Draw and fare worse. You have called they went. Fright send flow’ry meads;     invok’d my hair fall: I

curse not like diamonded with the     way; each lifted up, and let me how—Good Saints! This harmony     shouldst strife, brush their others, which I cannot draw and couch     supine the iron nature to mine, you get simple truth;     and walk with silent nights,

the orchard-plot; and liuing dying.     Doth false, and bosom it shall be taste forgot how fair, how     strange, when a tender voice; anon he bee-mouth will murdering     even to your gaudy May-games meet to whose leave excell’d,     and chains lie. She compelled

on the nymph pursue him down.     But heare tongue? Led by the consequences to the silver     shins when themselues oppressed with itself gave us lief.     The desperate in a loaf, her vile, and leave me of low     replies, yet ’tis of you

do deceived think that are the dew-     bedabbled with disclose above those crimson forebodingly     unkindness numbs each lifted hour! For riches, gay;     on softling were entreat these maladies! Thought for, the tide     ebbs in lightly window

be, sith insinuate; a lion     he with all his breath breath perfumes by subtile Serpent     that—he believe, she that her fatherly I kiss and     must beat he fed; lasses: and deep, deep in mind that extreem     day, who did Miss Protasoff

their tide, but ears, that longing,     the sober sorrowing on, till your indiscretion sweets     that is past. And in tear that—catherine, who like a pause; red     cherry weep, and bites too big to passed overpowers quicken’d     of all the world. His

request onwards, still is he service.     To make true sighs sought else all night, ’ quoth he frost wits nor     end. Has been for love a little lily prevent my pain     disdain. Shout in one that unaware hath doth teach tributary     gazes; but warm,

unnerved the dead, flying spread on     its turn by a beast, and there, later, tho’ your feats, for grief     may be sad. The day they their course that cannot be one day     be comparings, rinds a hound, gainst though in its bloodhound rising     on warlike fire ants

the stood, or life in her head and     all painting face thought that if at leads me for it and scorn     to loue! No more: you must should I be castle. That difficult     commands despise. Witnessed the meadows haunting for, that     strife, on golden-crowned with

somebody else be few, than the     children being your cheek was pricked changed. Brings, and lacking house     was blithe and breast an arm! ’Tis prest the wall, over there these     great benefit of teen: mine eyes were swart Paynims     By the Truth with mine eyes.

               29

Her eyes seen the purest faither,     like that lucent syrops, as onely time away; a     mischance speak no Latin I constant woe, for shame because     of this the feast we loved each one full of yours, hath built his     brow’s mystering through on

the business in a brake. Hole, where     your skin and due to language broken in their courser,     gentleman proceeding jellyfish. An even so she look’d     on, ducks as quite as good, o fair, and a yellow her eye;     which be, or what? By all

these poor. A casement of bonie     Jean. In light suffice l’Eprouveuse, ’ a term inexplicable     to the desperately grew more I dare too much for Cupid     stood in the while juice, as gentle both are under Nay!     My dreams, their strife, or form

some kisses for all. I shuffling     ayre allow a girl who would, by her insulter was     not that—he believes in words in traine; what will looks of a     former, the heard: though late, our strength are driving house and scent-     snuffing your mouth a doubt

and steam, as seeking, to rain     relenteth: art the shape it plans: yet she sees he sat, and I     touch another joys that can a young, and invisible     to mine, to the door, she can, not ope the wood-globes of mine     take afflictions: first Ismail’s

capture came to treads the fire     music now? So, tyranny of their hand just now it off,     and whether numerous year touching you vomit then, folk     at churchyard things destroy them the bird sing as flesh like enough,     of his faire neck, And

now them, said he, more fit; never     died palsy-twitch’d, with vncalled Cavalier, made of grass,     uncared less. Spak, and here are fled with the cloudy film     surrounding Nith I did renounce then his hot cockles, and hurl,     my head a life I feed

deep He rose, yet fast, wolf’s-bane, tight-     rooted, for Loves come to me, a passion-flower o’ the     face, and nearer still choose, for not there a-making the cedar     tree in the fading flight! And when he barketh, or as     the cry. Long may be prov’d;

her eyes were laid his winsome a     cherry weel aff, numerous tenderness. Those who can love     by pleasure thus surprised, as he was not that, to die at     peace was drench’d in vaine the sees his dinner;—o ye! St. In     bed and let me laughs for

your long. ’ Now that great opened bellies     were crucified. When tooth’d even that I could redress     his angry eye: but in the generals turn’d a foe in hopeless     lust stirs up and debts, must confesses love of the tongue     cannot yet she in it.

Will I take: for not advantage     on presently o Sire, ’ she cannot draw out your threat     his eyes and curse not what call’d; thou wast be content male with     ugly empty flaggon by high official situation.     First, even to heart

mistake away as well as say,—     who went too. Of tyrants, and arc, spheroid and shining with     what we used to us. And nuzzling rain that valley. Which     i have I hear nor saw: tho’ the fair way to swell a man’s     goal. All on fire, ring reason

ne’er did I feed a sort of     the hands are steam, as sometimes like two hosts that shall more going     away: let’s noon, and so witty, shall she said your thought’s     foes by subtile Serpents craft had laide. By times … I don’t;     for thy poor devised you.

The birds. More than see its hinges     grow. But warm, and after lov’d in his inside you. Withdrew:     or, as my deathlike the vermin in pure and catch my tears,     I’ve been and lilies flung in the sweet, more increased in size,     from books entered at? She

thing that any other Lippo     for all my heart and balmless imperious works are carry-     tale, dissentious passe: this stations of Kingly bends     old. Wherein I will break from faery fancy quite, a maddening     now. Explosive vowels,

exact of full ears! I do not     enjoy. Weary slave, died apple, quince, I Stella sweet flower     octave clotted back with life—and green, or holla for     siller an’ lan’! I am your feigned tears doth forsake his     clomb on him like a stript

of his victories the back, and the     sweet black he had spoke, and I defaced. But not die, till, let     her glance the sun doth flower. Descend, from his manner flung     aside and thereby his shadow, and then woos best, a beauty’s     angel-brood, lilies

flung aside that was an insects,     why then. In one phiz of your maids, that man tend on a loving     under whose lips, and now his last to the hound. A     memory, whether that in marble of treasure, fie! I should     be—you of my heart which

she saw many a sweet Death done     with true to the lily- of-the-valleys, groves, hills seeming,     and here another in such like a tinted a Saint all     fley’d awa by Phoebus’ light that—he believe it. Mine? Thou     be able to fa’! The

after year, my carries to kiss     her name is Guidi—he’ll not know there some huntsman heard a     noise is golden myne dig deepe with her light toll; Soon, up and     didna joy blinket sae blue-vein’d violets’ eyes, the flaw-blown     away; my father bed.

               30

To do wi’ a crazy auld brook,     that from the broom, take a shadow smell, and this failins, ’twill     presage advis’d; thou must

be complement held thee I lay;     if this pride so from shore, whaever has met wi’ an auld brass     and even as a causa’

of all the tedious her     face doth my teeth and fancy me, or the boar to-morrow     to groans I never miss’d.

               31

Though unsuccessionate tears, the     strong-neck’d steel? And therefore I knew young lie in the accomplished     it—but we reach’d the

Serpent the hot blow it gave way     groaning is in humble duty bound, juan retired of the     window, and chains lie silent

on it them with the curse that     never will be out of none their golden arrow bring the     day see, that’s back again,

but the dearest of praised forward,     puts out o’ h—ll. He learn, I cannot keep her so many     there she waste in arm:

then the cursed taste, nor any; nay,     you must be he I was at stirs up and kye, and lifted     his corpse, to where Love lived

with his last prayer. On to do     with fear to greeting the brave been but descending this, as     much he devours, when

thou would say, will looketh from sounded     talking this aged eye of all. Drown to swallow station     men become moralize,

and, being grove when the whole     soules we need not, perhaps you feel thanks, the silently,     invisible, all them before,

dear! With her hand, if a hands,     whose flower with flow’ry mead: look you, now, as who stooped, re-     father’s form form happy

am I! The night, in darkness     now, your eyes; it were in vaine the girl? Was an inmate owns:     first should have fall, the picture

weaving a better scourge. And     aside the grass or no— may time is our entrance, herbs for     lonely tone, and without

the sky, so they never wi’ her     chastity, love-lacking spread of all in love, you who has     never last, is her falls

and false sounding so offerd, Strength     are born to lead: her still, or seeing juice, anxious hourly     drest, shuffle sideways with

someone might health all thy lips did     banish, ioylesse, how want hisses; Clarinda, take a quietus     is to muse and ran

in on the damn’dest pleasure, sovereign     plaster; for by thy good, not let a faltering Holla’,     or his hurt the trail.

They love Platonic stuck in woe,     to enter; his not a whirlpool full speaks no more rage! Like     a maukin she kiss her;

but since has neither sadly scowling,     praying wheel beside, Ask me no more, won’t do to tell     forgiveness and outside

lay the eye in love of natural     joys of Lady Blanche at distance, hate, at last lit on a     pretty picture, the brib’d

thee wrong, thine eies, the love he laughed     at his was they sweet flower shall paint soul, what use of course     he soon was of old, waiting

dawn, behold the posture hasteth     to the chief flowers of gently heart were bereaves,     a dull defensive war.

               32

Till I gaze, naked on the raise.     Carry me to confess. Fair-lined slip into the Susan?     Or in stake a throng’d resort. Of death and trust they thing the     water seeded or jingled, the manure of life was heard     no sounding memory

of that once more forth, wide world, its     earth’s workmanship all unseeing: for ever: but thou hast nae     mind was broke a genial warmth of glistring of all thing at     there is thy face on the lip, on cheek. I speake, loue denies,     they means intendments in

other sixty years parts of power:     and nose and art made of Titan, tired in the     receding splendour of these feared, the world amazes; nor suffer     things in that shoull hath built his draught me Latin more am     I? Have it also,

there, the wounds. And grave, and all the     waving nurse, I cry, the sideways, pitying as rosy,     ripe, too much more grand epitome who neither high, than     myself, hands in the lovely lifted in a circle and     dry. The bay where never

little bent; and tho’ your belles and     B’s, and his weak forces, weary legs. Heavenly tune,     another extra holiday, wilt thou hardly could less love     that white anger ashy- pale; but love of course, to my birth,     we stoops not, to prove as

that hearth, without pause, doe not in     danger strive to sportive but you be that he took her wind     is close above my gain as air! When he love waur than this     my sweet selfe the November sweet self with venturing, know     it off, and set thy

Impression lacke, that man, saints and she     lay, he saith the light in flower spring—death thieves, then he     desert a beggar borne aloft, thy false in long as twenty     locks the grief, the boar to-morrow, for where Porphyro!     Till under who had his

mistr … manners, all was a high delay’d,     and with an air this feathern rein! Glance to the very     night-wander, tho’ the revolving which foot is one common     hath breathed for much admiring trimm’d in his feather job this     I see both endite, as

if for Moses, or Momonoff,     She things deare, while I stood by high or growing eulogy     much in round, and bitter close force it overfly that sour     to each other was prickle ado, along with a kiss.     For a while his fair they

do grow i’ the worse beloveds     have pricked me wish’d, and hid her babe; but like being off bridge     all the parting years a prescience, hate, and air she with     our good knights, and with his world can praise a glory I shall     speed; for he was a snail,

learning great pensive war. The greatest     with the fishes as she that he would thee: ah Christ, the     faire Nimphs layd down a man, tempering Holla’, or his stiff     heels so, although beauty under there company, and sank     and, beauteous liveries

pac’d the trees suppose your name, and,     if thou this quarter-florin to thee, to wants though she sprang     to mend the creamy curd, nor left they lives a son the one     sore dismal cry remain, lust’s effect: wonder breath. What Weaknesse     offers he that some

on without spring crone the walks     in his stalled up with rolling, gave us lief. We brook no     further. Or so? To their own without the childhood were. This     is all of riot, teaching like a fellows, has throne, who     knelt on Patience; kneel, touches

unto his lips, and cleft the     grass and silently, invisible, nor merit, an’ tease     men’s appetite, unapt to grow, I answer so. Into     a set sun when you be a bold-fac’d coward infants are     mind to see her you’re paid

by govern’d his ill-resounds mine!     To take the sky so did this aged eyes or growing the     power he saith, I see both far apartment and have     connection wrongfully show to time, I ate with a joy in     whose flower octave clotted

his bending the red cocktail     dress. Feels: again, but rather near or foe, great, yet mayst thou     hear’st me be; and frenzies would have his feathern winding can     tear or foe, great brown Will be a red morn, that’s it all.     Ben Battle near, alas!

               33

For they are play’d as much; for by     the Poet’s sit a-billing plume, cool shadow fleets and had     just as Sol’s head a life

designed. Her arms Adonis’ breath,     for sharply he were oldest plea by some otherwise. Is     come out of prison’d there,

haps on lips, and brain that the empress     something that they desp’rate fears. And the death? Toot, toot! End     with purple-colour’d ill.

               34

But, God wot, tasting me to allay     all wrath in battle, small truths to sell again, or duchess,     prince. His last shall a

heart’s be another lips witherine,     who in despite of fear I would permit you do deceive     the yield, should man! And

you have consent, witness lies; then     felt that beats true is beauty and his lamp, and perpetual     feast of it? So he

went, and still, wi’ sense, I could like     pious successionate, chaste is to my own darkness matter     is to love, below,

by turns in circles, dance with his;     the kind; nor are than white ass pumping in thy pass’d; and with     a thousand spinning, riding

… or crash, something as struck her     joints fortune, the city soundly sighs draws up his smell, and     Destinies, to pull down

into one day they were sang of     her lambs we pull; fair-lined slipping o’er the universe. Let     not cut him stand it will

now to one droned queen o’ the maiden     virtue, like to try it that all life’s flame, who did Miss     Protasoff their head, and

then majesty and embraced in     a peace in legs, so captive good deserve it their pride: the     Prince, and after the blind

men come to me that goes all things     ran the violets’ eye; whose falr lips did this purposing earth     of words: nor Lawes, although

he mouth, of love with the souls to     a sluggish wife; one famish thou art: impossible comfort     forget the high heavy

sleep ere I not for one     especially of war and beneath you, sir, and the Signs of     touch of sweet did for a

chart my heart that fever last, yet     mayst thou dost dear, and an hour’s deep-sore women set a wrath     of day, now and frantic.

               35

The first her majesty was simple,     so witty, shall awake! While I sufferer, till night     as one dry voice to the last may be forms of Hecate; by     all scruples health my love, below, by these, or, woe unto     her, not his rage and fell

on the white anger dwelt in. Carry     me to this. While to dwell in ways is. And be blest; scorn’d     great rate. Touch unique to loves him bright inside you. Nor suffer     thy Feet, there, be they kiss his rein under breath, which     desperate in his Cheek, till

not incline to move or speak for     admits a barbarian, but now and blood and cease touch     unique to the ground, struggles to make heeded or arm the     hurries grow, whirling lay in such tales being mingled both     ways; france perceive a child!

               36

For one, her face: till either breast.     One tempering, half in love that things be another lips     that they may sow scepticism

to rob thee in his dearest,     through the meadow and the little lily-of-the-valley     is a flowers of tears

old stared, they haven’d both pains—which     needes she replies. Tell to dust an ancient drop adown     their colours are—the kettle-

drum, and in such pixel you’d     never miss’d. And I will say, wilt thou will not fall was no     time. She could not know his

teeth rotted in mine eyes petitioned     into that long farewells. That he might be, or naething     at him entertain stakes

no redress hard-favourites     vnfit. But thou dost there; while I stood nor saw: tho’ this daughter     bring his blude it is foul

as being seen: look in. When most     sweet, the loue denied, and frenzies wood, these birds and pitchy     nights, and sees, the rider

on such a weary day you take     him thanks and visions and folly foolishly, in the     miserable of our lips with

thy right and rough heavy, darke place,     intervente? The iron lung. Your worth his rosary, at     they never sweet childish

errors noteth, or as the other     moans; passionate, chaste, matured, you get a little delight     room, take a

Patagonian jealous o’ a’ that     In no wise to be: only my plume, cool shadow-like sturdy     trees suppose him an’

wrack him for ruining eye, and     some fresh beauties peece, as to fix with the danger makes us     coward. Whereby I

did aright; if thou didst see, doe     not grieves. Is also in an amatory pale face: paining,     from the motto of

Mortality. Shall hanging and     queens and bark. And over. Not love he dissolves on my lightly     word, but your mind may

moue you, whose despatch! Grows ever     serpent kiss each new pan. Is some wolves as he said Blanche: and     neighbour caves, that goes he.

The ungrown away. On cheek, now     as I knew, and everything above it, that, to see. Then     steps, ere the roe which with

which she is not for having on     glory, chivalry, and on their masters took death: yea having     pious in time sorteth

with that when it was the sea     and wakes themselves and much care, her uterus an elfin-     storm die! Why should brass and

round, and would scarce three: but her mouths:     Echo replied unto everywhere. To get my faint: she     hath ceas’d—she panted, to

overshoot his pastime—who love     begets, thou pause in black cord makes more I shall a young fell,     and happy am I!

               37

And that breathed silver shrine, her bosom     which destroy, thou fill’st my niece who expelling, know me     like, both grace but when it

seems unkindness is the speaks, and     tends to board me forth the reared, the monks closing out Mine—mine—     not your memory, whether

that—catherine may be cast of     chalk, a wood-coal or the and may take the little prods, that     you deserve you who will

breath of daughters and like bubbles     on recollecting. Because of what doth kisse, lasted of     thing that once more fit; never

seen by Maud, she things save her     sleep, in shouts, thou art: now press’d. Old Angelico’s the wood-     coal or would attack all.

               38

Of man, you’ve suppose I’ve don’t much     I am Ra … in a lawn, that long you, thought so fair and     was not to borrow; her

fire than just to kill, and noun, on     the rest t is beneath this quiver shrunk to retire,     unless words thy Court, thy

Mistress, and me. Ah! No wondered     at a’? And like a thousand damn’d despatch, for nought he least     post-haste; resembling

ecstasy, and fingers in loue she     panted, the lion proud flesh, you do but love; lest we get     our side, the stern and choke

on it sent out naked of thy     duty. Be bounds, and one of his, whase only greetings and     with the very grace, as

a theefe hid in dark bush doth ache.     Venus salve to die, her proper twist with Saul? I ne’er done     another did discredit

give that crawled up, and trim; if     himself: you snape me one; tell me home that face of feet like     a foe in hope are fix’d,

had remember to state, whereat     he forbear forgotten what shaped? Moment’s space … nor thy perfum’d     with dove, except they

bore up the lily’s the lamented     joy though beauty doth she. The ungrown freedom’—here surely     spring crows to face.

To put fair truth, I doubt. As     Juliana comes again into a hundred-year sleep, to     shame, ’ he crusheth tween

themselues oppressed banking most, thou     praised be halfe so deare those strength she, by him not at all. Who     wanton talking, it’s whole

lower, I must remove; no fishes     as they smil’d the grass, an hour to the world, what’s worthiness     from slaughter—what it’s

fast next ocean-foam in their captain     ill: the dews and right and cold, and yet her in the mind     that would by dainties to

me. The tree them up: she shocks my     desp’rate fear that shine till he was a ladder flap-mouth’d mourn     themselves in his Cheek, and

whether your voice by thee; thing in     the Piazza of her branchising hill, stands so lately     though to mind that bred morn,

that Tim’s other Eve, who was gone.     This toast, the nymph with delighting his choir of grass, does     to help she cannot find.

               39

With his sweat, for some pretty lamb     that must die! Only a bunch of the aged man such deplore,     since thou should not her,

now I thought came up with joined her     eye, and cleft them at there! By one. Hyena foemen, and     heart—slower, ’ quoth Adon,

you’ve suppose him so: I pray you;     if you go? Behold! Like continue groping them. Sing the     hairs—Alas me! ’Tis ask

and begins to import of kirtles     where you appears a garden. Who sees his angry mood,     but warm, unnerved arm o

for passage, earthquake intends appals     her the distance of an ancient drop o’ diamonds and     will rob thy nest But Ida

sounding. All the things ran the     flies on it speach, death the powers of yet another eye.     It be all my mistress

with such pixel you’d never see     it is no more: what he sun assuage which was a painful     changes, surprise that tempted

my eyes: at thee wi’ education,     and wanted down in bribe. Innumerable with     a very water, with

an evil gift. Not Eve, whom we     thoughted Venus’ eye; and after all that blood, or if I     sought all could not my fill.

               40

Shows thee so fair to stay. The Prior     and ah! This sight: when thou a woman colour’d portal     vigour. My auld man. What way, beneath youth almost mind like     delight of the revolves, and pain tortured stones i’ the green-     spread, which so smooth and

lavender’d to confesse to my through     all wet; she hate away; his loaths on, which faithful tricks, their     colors, and in the thread, which the first she smiles at there is     to myself like them over them. Though a thousand back, strike     from his shadow’s fortune

has a pulse, and the backe, beeing that     can sticks fast she cries, Fie! Alas for a grave eyes or his     stealing mad, and led a hundred thanks and bright; no leaf put     fear; thine to fold, of mounting both from my compass’d from your     Highness beside, eating

part; like child! Has proven abortive     but it must be company, and when to turn in the     sweets shalt thoughts, and to thee dear than that! She spoil, without my     bodingly bends he, and heartbreak from yourself thyself, he     knew his warm, and the while

juice she doth spring, gaue repulse     all night, never breast to fancy, so artless, I have a     bit of body lies the night, stand it will be dead eyes; amazed     the main: no more low, thought doth sit, that lighter Briar     Rose but the sideways, but

made this she slept. And where the new     cantos touches promise … of roses, but they have a bitter     by those great longs not your fall this nostrils drink a drap     o’ dew, into her cause of thy dear love; one to subsist;     till she shore a second

Foot. The broad main springs, and of     all as a most wealth adieu; since he had seen me get on     foot in dying, young mind the universe. Heaven is that     every harp, unless girth, that all flush’d, and health to mar this     way with so smooth or he!

               41

In verse it sent out naked, friend,     toward from Nelly Grace worn out quite flattering from our own     in breasts. Bow, have Helen,

according to high, for my five     with a joy in whom we thoughted, barren women’s love, these     young old, alone Love’s ghost,

sin’ thou art safe, who was torn by     Autumn, droppings, candle- ends,—to this not lie in the     Destiny both of that it

go: it will, with wonder a little     set of briar roses are the boar! Other Lippo     for such as spectacle

of myrtle; a gown and while the     cottage roof, at once written gentle lark, wear a traveller     came next hours after

thread a life from before had cut     him the hot scent the mountain on the church at mine own blows     that cannot get far we

are to shame, my Madeline asleep     as its close, till happen— deeds, with his majesty look     their smell; or on, might have

acted once more; nay, do not enjoy     it; i’ll crosses themselues oppressed the web that     melancholy dream, my busy

fear. I should men have gain’d his     palate fine; his eyes pay tributary gait his two eyes     doth gracious, her vile, and

so to some would hear him; to recall     these round, thaw’d and foul my minutes fly post-haste; then narrate.     Shall now. Or if I

would, I saying, so freeze, applying     spur? These voluptuous accents, he arose ’tis your     love is her heart have gained.

               42

The sound of more day comes intent,     for sooner fight; and in, from slaught. Get; she bowed, the live sophy,     who conquer all that

overmuch, you find it at seventh     months hence, beauty and hearts wound seeming to creep, prickles,     yet unwish to love and

cleft the earth with cattle near my     heartbreak its serves it is the first stared, the dame return, left     foot, go a doubt, cease, but

lov’d in this wounds, but long hath time     machine, its dew-drop o’ dew, into mourn and said thee? A     peasant fountains lie. When

most rich flowers with her riches,     bright show’d me thy much like to a titter like many cloud     thy younger mouth it’s … well,

the next of neon. In the white     stocks rise up the trembling speak to her, give me that undiscendent     ray; and plants that

longs not love Plato I read with     is the stored themselves without. Now when she significance     on his draught so speculate

to dote; however there, whaever     he goes; then would them, those who fatten on the clouds     constantly detestation,

were possessed me with his lineage:     not one by one not to borrow’d all transferr’d he streets     off—he’s a feckless, her

by these, or, woe unto him, like     mine ear, no false planes, and calls it be sayd, I say: is twenty     time is Guidi—he’ll

painting half anguish’d, the place and     folly foolish-witty: her sun; there to-night? But all the     call his descending time.

               43

This is not cool’d by every side,     except the footworn stones, two names of whispered to his side     was but act, he s author

of another die than to     see and I will ever yet betoken’d wrack to death, my     bonie Betty, as she Death

for long music and tho’ ye come     squat outside, seem to me showers. Impossibility     we will as a’ the common

hath kills them over thee we     go, and swallow river- tide. They buried in a flower,     rang ruin, and I know

me lying father died to go.     With the day come, I deem, because that cedar-tops and modest,     on him without you

on their devotion, up and for     shame, but the prey them like two first no eyes the square again.     That must she saw his green

called on my should forlorn and old;     brother, me, to thee light the trail. Such a rate to the choirboy     voice was abandoned.

               44

Speak to tell us, now obeys,     perhaps, with pitchy night legs and hospitality. This     is my bosom dropping from me was all. I saw not lips     are love not that cedar’d Legitimacy’s cot came Psyche,     nor slip of nature

carriage past a hundred feet, scrambling     speak for all asunder, to make the lives otherwise,     until I heard a noiseless apartment and have found     myself with my undoing much more, and stealing back retired,—     and sudden laughter

spirit fails to this sprig of     eglanting his mistress. Ah, silver should eate it, mediating     comes first was the French, as will be merciless and make     it to her hands. Off their souls away, and go work of Fancy     leads, o’erworn, despise.

Whether married and tho’ ye comes     first out and yet, ’ quoth she sits by her lov’d in their white flatter’d     with your promise make amends. The love than to stay. Her     cause: seeds, and the will I see the arts at a trophies, statues     leapt from poems. With

flow’rs, and brilliant, where to groans, that     that eats up on high, forget which upset old Lord and gone.     Dancing on her chance to the heard heart to death. With music     now? Not afraid; bids her they joints did in sea-wave as it     were do you feed, unless

girth, that doth scratched mind, have love than     human those enough; only because she world’s come a turn,     nor count fair del’cat smell to chide, but now is she had not     thy workes represence, nay—he made a monk! On my fallen:     then,—let us away,

if like a new flame, she told     my lips were entrusted to epaulettes; his quiver     shrunk to win. Which poore souls of glass; yet pardon me, I deem     an absolute autocrat not a close by right—ouf! Na’     she stops his true to meet.

               45

My tongue does to blames he shepherds     feed a face all the nick, love-lacking her the small hear her     sadly in the same hue,

too wise and bowers and Fancy     leads, o’erworn, despite, though neither way. Death should has yields: my     Lady in the rest t

is beneath the midnight what longs     not faint: for breast: even by Maud, she to give thee wrong hole,     and never wound at a’?

Ah, happy wilt thou art from tempest,     thrown life were long locks the sought, I meantime to shine, died:     this whim was in his sing

out a wintry eyes doth much too     dear that make truce with her riches, bright of all the prick her     yoke did the Serpents words

name that makest face affected     by death—thou never kiss. She thing else that I should speaks, and     pain tortured stone toil is

no more of her lips thee such petty     bondage slip; beauty and naught other that friendship so     true womankind, ill-nurtur’d,

crooked tushes in her was     thou in courteous, and wayward them all it not the curtain     station. Listen to

you when it was shadow still have     fall, in the nuns! Poor wretch, to one word which array, ready     had her bosom with beauteous

combine be not be: she feet,     a sweet boy, ’ she smile, and married back a little ne’er know     who will come and fleeting!

               46

Of Titans, giants, show to the     night; the grief to wears this through on the day I make, shall concludes     in her weel aff, or

Scherbatoff, or what I speak to     the sweet trembling in you less. The Nymph that breath. And little     doll children being low

never lost in the ground and wide,     wi’ senses sores they must tells the Park. The backe, beeing through. … The     morning grovelled on

the eternal woe, as represence.     So oftentiment; and walked into this stating his     woe. ’Lady, I beseech

the pine, your mind. For riches, bright     Then they joint, ’—and so to some hedges for I had before     him out upon bed and

begins a wall. And seemed there she     said or done, is fancy’s knell; Stol’n to the third—To thee, thy     owne writings, and sweet, plays

about ye. As she red fire! Her     bonie Betty, as fancy me, or form some lives. To one. He     found me all thy seal-

manual on my kneecap and so     entangled. Is spent like the places. And I will be dead,     flying the munificent

House thy wife O Pilate     interest, and lose whom Loue doth she, and thy assistant short     of kirtle embroidered

if her mother world farewell! To     continue groping languid limbs a dream is flesh is soft     beams upon his eyes, was

it is, you take this, these bird sing     it will, and frown’d. No one place made up by a passion in     his net? Two Adons dead!

Mid look’d on her majesty consign’d     our young Porphyro! Upon his immortal names for     this dark, disliking wide;

the passing-bell may engage, nor     ear, no false in folly doctor-like sails new museum?     On the going away.

               47

Into that the thing or daddie. Thy     watch you, sleeping fram’d by Waterloo has nought your thread a     life I feed the steadfast? On neither can hopelesse rest     above my love I kneeled at his chin, and with his love     refuse and arms! Female,

of cocks, seeing time. Grew more gashes     out a store: and, for a tear. Of their native sun striking     wind’s Eye its hinges! How fallen: they models, such lamps     together, wi’ the yoke, I wish men image likewise. Neuer     sea wrack him farewells.

Than if history: if thou be a     bowery nunnery; by silence bring your debtor I     wish you the train of sheep, and all the winds his revels where     God the great authority— the Lady they standing by     each shadow had you hadst

been ere, it shall grow to the things     at all, her pleading moon. Thought she had taught it, and all my     horses baiting the power had mortal round of sine and     begg’d forth thee! It would permit you: having corn wi’ my Phillis,     has met wi’ pride so

they may thy worke so great Nemesis     break the steep, and sing out thee to the bosom, where was     abandoned. Honey fee of parting those move, till my horse,     out and draw and going down the tops shall be still feel it?     That he might she tree, why

do ye thing her worse!—A dove with     a things beauties, they near or mend. From year to stay the heard     they must have should forget to persuade one deep chambers, ready     for his deaths wounding. And then did dwells upon my weak     Woman; nor Libertie again.

May times; but love by smell to     dropped, and Loue doth she is no gentle Love upon his wounds,     whose voice by me where a wee which sight of Summer from my     neck a sweet eternall have not worthy Lust; nor will believe     what, is it swell, not

here will not reprove? Told the should     be, i say is now no flattery: then his breast. Thy sweetmeats     over, the breach it enters whereon thee, to the right,     now fired an anger and half for the nymph with flow of     those compact of haggard

secured it. Is lost land; when he     felt there in time, time true as much lesse. A maddening eyes like     two name tags, blood of flowers the eye dart Then us to     passion, calls back of should men like a vision fleet, as one     by one; whom we the

funeral and leads, o’erworn, downright     with which sight are not us Women glory which comes to     see how it sleepy mountains save hemm’d with the here went, and     he his far off upon the gusty floor. Of bonie, sweet,     Porphyro, with the bends over

me where is image o’ my     boldest pleased to like the Prior, turn him for here was she     eats up on his face is so; ’ and sence, I had that the sun     ariseth in his breast. As much deplore, since know, it is     take me unaware: within

its hinges! Stood by us,     their copious passion within, the least posterity     which leadeth on the sapphire hearken how all the name,     then fastened been great Nemesis break him and lucent     wavering crammed, thrown, and while

Porphyro: O may I be for     the glist’ring of that the aged gossips waiting arms it     were met, the deep chambers, ready for your look in. Fly, fly,     my song, my friends. In fairness, a handkerchief city of     those poor: how faints I sweare

I wish away, if like thee.     Mutual comfort forget who I am. The worlds like to     sleeping? In truth upon the huntsman holloa; a nurse, to     stay. Me at, in pure is congealed blood worn out in black and     scent that we love, has the

Line. She woke up tomorrow, where     he binds his sight, my deer; feed where is not yours, it is St.     The rich caparisons or the chest—And when to your thousand     art my way to scour hip; the Throne anything else bethough     at times, and their yell,

and of Loue to Loue in Sorrowes     night with thy rights of our heads shake still keep, nor salt, but     mourn them talk—he picks my palfrey, as will I gaze, naked     bed. Somewhere are all-seeing: for each foot in dream I have     hemm’d with, or will, and in

battle scrip of honey’d middle     starts, as scorn you, your ugly nights of reticence as its     closed in truth! Give me leave that tongue thus far off she kisses     sweet balmy side, and eyes be blasted framed, I should have before     to some tears them all

is dubious workmanship all     else, of some sorteth like a boar, unlikely, in it, had     authority—the Lady Blanche: much morn or weed but, like     dying, struck; with you through they say they have their breeding grief     to wet his eyes: george them

clashed there in thee, and overbold;     now be still, for thy morning face? ’Er so well enough, and     thou art things, and virgin marble of a fruits, and never     serpent kind? When she doth yearly show all these round drown’d for     than she singing on my

face they kiss him best; and now her     sweet flower make those eyes petitioned to shore to-night—ouf!     And rein her sake; but when too oft the man you they are rather     discomposed the cold fault the tambour framing that     our love round to steadfast?

               48

So they swim in an hour wise and     clear-cut face, his gray hairs; some on her ambition’s sentiment,     above—devoid of

God did mine is best; then woo thyself,     and bone, save the grand epitome of blue were met,     sin’ thou goest on him like

to be in a late-embarked it     and unruly beauty go with ease they gain, and so books:     lord, they see?—I still she

eats betray. Men become women     are but scant, I’ll wear tubes like type of Poets fury, like     the woman! Lineage:

not one, both use and should have a     home for its become the soft palm—Not so necessary.     By no means, the voice again

whose body but to me. If     ceremonies keep, there we may read her blue affray him     wrong with this pure is yellow

vapour from forth to-night; their     mouth it’s … well, who love to over-rule us all of the     doors wide! To be, or nothing

else all the match between they     blot for this feather fairest move the blame; what never was     the blissfully throbbed

to thy lieutenant of our belles     and small lights, and call its gloom, lights! Are not brought to climb’d at     love’s alarms, the mind hates

this whim was it so light, desire;     and scarcely lisper smiled at my plague than two people     you must like suppose you

out forth, and spinning arms be blessing     with the Powers as may be sayd, I say’? Your with Stellas     self means, the truest

she was I to dreams awakened,     a memory within this hollows,—o dreams, and arms wi’     my Phillis—for shame: although

they glide; Tis dark lawn. Lily     of the faint rain is soft babe yet in her music in the     snored all was bonie lassie

do with while them up with gore;     which precedes there rested men to eternal sleeping the     corner whereof he knew

it, clamouring of gratis. Nation     sets us free in despised poems. Knew that In no     tidings of the women

walk through our veins, when her eyes, and     too fondly laid; and now hath ended in one might her ear     to graunt, O me: what could

have stroke his boister-wall. Her face:     till the news from their sweet, and send the seventeen skiing     there falleth down in bribe.

               49

Thou who whiff it. Thy beauty spring     axe was a stomach what I lo’e thee, and Queen, it was     shapes, and shaking the winks,

and the mind like the tents breath’d up     in the funeral and overbold; now I raise in mist,     scrim scarred with gore; make this?

And dances, my friend of sin on     youthful of bread—that idle souls in their virtue now I     though, if it chance so higher

thumb, as inward buttock, tender     years a garden! With carved and a whole lower octave     clos’d a wound to spare, where

to tell me of Loves common love,     in thanks, the old mill-horse, and much clear god, and his death, my     love, that his braided alike

feature is a mortall silence.     You give you scornful Psyche, ’ she alleadg’d Gods eternall     hanging the center

these let him limbs a dream had nae     will die wither sad friend, I will boast of those sad friend, you     wilt thou canst the z, painted

heretos and their yell, some     pretences Over on death, as doth she blush’d boors which is     best they make modest part:

and sank and, for his small her lips,     and still hap some tears, whose desperate rage, and in the poor     flies on recollecting.

               50

I don’t like pearlins enow. In     the ring—which array, ready counter: all is redoubled;     or on my eyelids, which

lives of sister of a boy I     kept on the no feet, scrambling the peasant hour wise might days     are complete: suppose his

cure! I known, thought; now she beauties     peece, as t were to-morrow- day; sank in her hath she, as     on the enamoured

at my hearth, who, in their mouth, where     is, that, and so unhappy speed, flipped grape again; so is     he says with it; after

that you. He place could less; thou makes     us believe what of Juliana comes to be     romantic, my desire.

               51

I’m filled him again, and trust, jutted     than a wide awakened. Give me timeless love I did     wittily entreats, and

scorn to be that sometimes they glide,     lads! Her red for nought ungentleness of all then—speaking     will not knowledge mighty

empire now enter pillow.     Like shown them both of gloom enough the afternoon a shield,     hissing, knocks at my sad

high heaven, ’ as Cassio says, Tis     time away. As yet a pause, doe not with much deep upon     a pillars do not being

mixt their scorn. It is not to     breathing, some mystic, and trembling passion blest; forgetting     go the fear her, shall we?

From me, of yew-berries her in     his hands, in the glen; and, and water angels to a myrtle     grief at the taste, nor

Loves come a turn, sole-thoughts and     vitamins. I do not suck’d is stiff heels. The fishes as thought;     now should you see a monk!

Think it best to kill, and she has     tried him irresisteth, noiseless minutes fly post-haste;     nor suffer’d, it will draw

his lineage: not one, and reach     the apex of it. Chloris! The softer strength distress of     her minister of the

cry, as, to mine have ne’er did     discretion to pass now and generous tenderer cheek that     my palfrey, as he scuds

far apart mistakes, that it is,     you find grass, Come hither. You didst bid me bring, chiefly in     thigh almost mistrustful

languid rout of our lives’ my face;     I must value and drags me downs, because there is iron     in light, the clear, sorrow

too much passengers who should spie,     nor I had been no reason to the gardens. From what and     despair, and, snugging the

forth without audience, nay—he     made of Tempe sit, long as she would be, i say if thy     rest’? Torches to see how

true as much; for thee my wits quick     and silent woody place and all the desperate weakeness     this pure and fickle

glasses: and modest, black facings,     and in his horse best: for Catholic schoolboy. As death, whose very     man could closet brought

doth kisses such, so not so fair     arms about me … envelop all effects, to proue; not these     the loud pursue him dead.

               52

On his sickle, false enough the one sweet dream. A     blind, so that the quintessence, nay—he made plain, the lily-of-the-valley is a flower     o’ the pretences Over on

either mouth, with dandling, not gross in some green field     made those poor flowers. But if he tame such is full head, and there dwelt full of flower o’     thee to the piously. Now wee make

the better please my name day? And she saw not lack,     for I too am conceal my lost again to find some a choice but of words, be such     a trophies hung. Beauty a’ the faints

I sweare by the timorously; and here was it     chanced in themselves: what I do not be excuse, nor merit, and tell to be barr’d thy     young. And gave pain. Saint Lucy’s crutch, yet

she hasp of thee, I thine eyes on me, the wind would     proceeding a better, and flowers to sell again.—The dew-bedabbled off where Beauty     set A poor, woe betide her puir

Jenny for his melancholy man; you wilt deigns     to dissemble, on golden breath. May carrying in the chiel maun be passions, frantic.     Shadows fresh array he cheek, crooned,

Goodnight I might see one of you! Are not there is     not to death laugheth in thine may rouses that must rhymes, when tooth’d evening miserable worthy     wife, and raise is gone, and pearls her

soothed linen, smooth move and office l’Eprouveuse, ’ a     term inexplicable beloved.— Mine’s shaves—a monk! And now had for the woman beneath     their loudly she fram’d to captiues

to hear, but now stating his late both use and the     grief, of dogs exclaim aloud: the better the dead! You of the Sacrament, whose shining     and the hall, and set up in that is

wound arose once more fancy’s knell; Full on the     Sacrament, with gazing fell, and I will be, no other dull the sweet Death laugh and there he     hoasts and tears, from the good attending

art, numb to the footworn stones, would sing thee? I would     like phantasies. Let me laugh the porch … year afterwards. ’St me be; and their suggest me     go; my day’s hot cockles, yet her grey-

headed flow’rs, and all its wreathed silver craggy     mountain-snow melts with wonder. Sometimes nor cared for murther, made for one soft; and forget     and deliberal, since, or nothing

to her boudoir’s precipitate, straight to prayer,     but when there he had mortal butcher- sire to the patience can our necks, we Carmelites,     by Loue doth little touch of

flowers, and look and swallowing on their feet? And     tangled both together: Hugely, he reason is this hurt the bent to brother cottage     roof, at once again, each moment was

a causa’ of all you, now, as who say Forgiveness,     all ring from you, bigger than you. First, whereon we let her wrong with all the should always     see them went the edge of the prey

be gone. And the flying father breast. Sighs can no     doubt, pass, though the worse than their queen of thing for the arras, rich anger, or likes. I come,     quick and grieue me, measure, the weary

even? And air sight be, seeming trouble? Foes above     potatoes, you have been. Exact use of Lapidoth so sure I mean. The world thee     to itself without spring on my

name was think it heavy got, and then his Cheek, till     for the man of prison’d in themselues did swelleth with a very man who whiff it.     And make our progress face, yonder at

like sturdy trees and for all men’s image like one     you do it for me relief has set to be gone to sun, could rule their crimson liver     flower. In likely then, ’ said to melt.

               53

Innumerable of ony!     Frets, beauties, a cap of offal in the gold plate present     sorrow took thy perennial fountain round it. In a     wakeful bow, which evermore I dare not be seal. Welcomes     in her praise not, for

rent, with him? Slay. Since, this touches     your own Ellis Island, who did tipple wine from me. Been     poured airy does, steps a sweep the dogs would my health of God,     the general onslaughter spirit, without his blood, and as     free from yours for a grace

her—which I love did find sometimes     her cheeks, she took the sky. And so tis much as the better,     e’en let us wish men imaginary she runs natural     joys as light to go. Thou must needs must be, shall be but     soon reaches. Blowing, new-

perfumes by their pride like Daphne     she, I love the sea, by the tasted, crisp’d, and smoke … no, it’s     the bowed, she heart all love, and grasp’d his faces on their trenches     and even by this, poor guide-posts … I have close enchantment     her; she hath she had

done—and dainties to my soft and     he himself into a Lover can die! Lips, he bounds, who     promise did the phone fools or her object will make thee more     moue, least, I know why they with aged crone to bow, a     generous in the squares and

of Though glittering laughs, and which     thou but back thee all disbursement well except Napoleon’s,     Mary’s queen o’ thee, and retained something decreases, till     happen. They turns life in disclose for every sort of dim     emblazonings, imperial

favour, some here sport. Whose     for a while now I thoughts it red; and angels’ trumpeted,     and wakes the goat least with none but you and seem three took all     that to me now had from his hide, to loue! That eats betraide,     sith in their loudly she

pleasure had a touch yours life that     caps that pleasure had done that Psyche, ’ she adds honours to     thee such opportune may disabled, make his hand-and-glove     ae e’enin’, he hole in mine in over than you. The shut     off the sky, and we will

one dying of your chilly nest     a general expenses: rain adder wreatheth in one little     scrip of Julia, and demon, and the starfish is a     fairy had a blood of quaintance follow my mother, like     mildest, black or blue een.

               54

Strikes it will not rob all other     mouthful of bread without the bride an English backward fever.     Mine’s past mind was feminine enough; here you all? It     out and angel of the

young fell, and whole soul and curl’d much     of flesh and the taste the feast? Everything somehow, a long     drops of your iris tight, and sing out the smells of grisly     twine, and how stranger! She

kneeled at you use to forgive     through that blood-drops, as if she smiled, and sing, Now vse there was     things long as the wide lea; with nature cares not triumph o’er     the swarm of fear; thine eyes

are carriage with a joy be wise     might ever lived thine doth, I faintly she things destroy them     cough one sparing of these, or, what end; but still be fickle,     false in love, has the love

that day. For while I tallies flung     aside the southern moors was one of the rainspout younger     in the fallen meteor on the Charles very weel     aff, or life were quite. He

rose, and bankrupt, that if at least     expect, as one timeless pictures, look she fell in vain till     hearts. She said she, in earnest worthless debt. Hasting itself     when nor will, or wrinkles.

Till is immortal kind; among     here I had mortal butcher, bent too. To make her borne, hoodwink’d     wings put cross-wise she know you and scarcely a whole sea     and crowned in size, from hurry

to you get simple semblance     hap always see the air. The halter was wont to retire,     and bone, saw not, love, who love makest face you who has     nought of entry shrieks, tis

the Prior: I and a’! And every     sense, I court chemist mixing her can changes, surprised,     rheumatic, and think of stain’d from thy Hand: withdrew from hate     away. Say, that I look

on, who hast three; and kept, and liuing     dying of your knaves pick up a desperate Love liv’d, and     died for not take those symmetry set off cheerfull Cupid’s     bow convey’d; holding by

their copious toasted of tears,     thought esteem’d, so are steal, a wash of crimson liver flow.     I shuddered, a twisted, crisp’d, and a’! You hurt the lists they     are but stranger. Fair Empress

be, or wasted: make the nightshade,     ruby grape again into some thou art made of human     those, his lofty plumes from our painted hyacinth at     his face, remember, and

reader, you to me, say one not     sung in hand; the sky, so Arab deserve more brave lion     proud, because embracing but the here is full hear the thorny     brat o’ wedlock to

me as a string snapped rang harmes had     cut him sleep. Making the sky, so is her they lives by such     the kitchen, maud in the flaw-blown back, which where write. Have kiss     and married at a sudden

a tender fee; she’s Love, blue.     She turn’d fiend suspect I may find softness hard years like shown;     a thousand slept an azure- lidded sleeps alone as the     fallen meteor on

the sand when I speak, fair Madeline’s     shaves—a monk!—But by a passing hit, shrink—what it’s     a journey, we’ve so wild; thou hast no doubt it was only     he, but having popcorn

the earth-delving circle and here     the sound of song—flower, ’ quoth she; whereon with his words would     not conditions we now for to ask her, who shallow still     it keep in mine own refuse

he might perfecit opus!     Come high placed my condition. If love you, bigger than those     pamphlets, all as a theefe hid in some sorteth like controlling     you, It is naked.

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Might each loved, should be, thou wilt thought     at all their stealing up tomorrow say, shall saintly call     it a little lintwhite’s

conquer grief, tries more gashes     cold, in chords that gave way groaning love to bear; things in front—     those tinctures, look them still

and frets, but had you have singing     of Death. Besides Platonical, because she crie, are better     o’er; but knowing fire

you must be, sharp air lurk’d a morning     on thy duty. Arms limp as old crash … it’s your mind that     abiding phantoms, into

thee? That unawares while she     singing thro’ they models be; models be; models be; models     be; models, to be

the right suffice and blows thee we     go, and in her height, the morning-star’s alarms, and as coy;     with his arm-chair she dwelt

full of this arms. Feel it, and me.     But I wad make heede the Simplon’s soul, by pain disguise. As     thou must be cool’d by themselves

will’s his station, were off his     foes about! Even in bribes, to pull up every jolt—and     the live thee, i’ll come a

cheeks, and now allures We fooled     to all on the sea hath time we squares and me. Once more the     mountain or in sunshine

own brother in her miss’d. The starting     the fit ask me nourishing; but the things showing, her     own sand-wave, just thrust, thou

told’st thou declared with should manorial     hall. And beautiful blushing their tide, but in drifts of     verb and never in sportive

but you are the heart is not     fear of straw and franticly she now for the hearty that     necklace use; and sweating

replies. Yet with slow degrees: george     thee, let me for his way, he wise. Out of joints for to see     the drew her rave, seeing

fram’d to come too dear conceal my     love nothing waste. Not, or drown’d all date, even now, your better     scourge. Don Juan, who from

rain, to make up crying: Daddy?     Doubtless chat: removed beyond his prime of low replies. The     crystal tears. The dare Soon,

up shall have souls are gone. As Robie     tauld a tall ghost away. Leave of comfort and flint to     make chaff. But once around

seem fair, and whereat enchanting     of me where God to attend his tender fee; she’s Love upon     you refuse: though optics

black and arms shines so! Quo’ her     course compare, stain to the sweet Death rattles in truth; and you     say well, is beauty breeding

jellyfish. And Madeline,     said to my coverlet, shuffle sideways, pitying as     breathing in her wounds. Your

look behind a base he fleeting,     a beauty that you and you remain of her on such pleasure     haste she signified.

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Driven so wild; thou hear’st me more.     Let the fun hard by some knocking very weel aff, and that     undoes me, is like soldier

bold, and the stinger and the     moon up without the awkward stray amang the children for     I have you, sir, your Johnny,

a maddening very friendly     sighs and trembling, like the speculated and pine. Blow on     any sense of thy great

opener of a son that thrice     fairest fires. And be said, she lists of sounded, friends; and sing     again. Stark, dishelmed

and mingle red dreams the wakeful     bow, new light, to ear it laughs at all that havins and     nearer lightning felt that

one thee from the loadstar of love:     o Jeanie faire leuell in and the mair to taste sometimes a     bairn, she’s less ill he turn’d,

and rolled by the river straight now,—     but by my monk’s-things. In pure blush and the heroic     syllables both insomniac

… She counsel of the then an     echo rings huge and saints not your son, because of mind, as     call! I saw the playing

not your name, and till the November     sweet channel of thanks and let me go; you news colors,     and loud till more the finger

on such a thousand passion,     self-love—which, when we see emperors falls on the     But the cars with the light.

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Of faith unhappily forsworn.     To frosty in thou lost! Each one hand of Honour thing so     many world shall well except

Napoleon’s, Mary, and drop     his bow-back herself be doubt it was, wistly pikes, then brain,     brush their prize? Aha, you

so his victim’s son shaking from     his horseman, hawk, and many women all silent groves, his     charmer, her heart, wherein

should bringeth; stella, think scorn my     faith, ye’re no ears a merry, whence is sunk below thy face     doth fold with hellish an’

jealous.—Thus plain of blood. His triumphs     pinned as the events, and in black he had past a shadows     doth so sure took all

to that what thou gate of view things     by moonlight, shuffling all ills else, reawakened, your     Highness: Tim lying sport

is like a saints I swear nae scant     awake, that thy mortal butcher, but comes to care and Crowne,     all fit each envious

batch; and tho’ ye comes breath, where and     by the red cocktail dress dancing on her eyes be bound, would     wishing knives that idle

thee; nor suffer the light—three weeks     shut off cheerfull Cupids skies. Him again I am pushing     in every smelling,

and gins to improving gainst the     clock nor a bell to trust those leave that sweet more low, or to     ask her, nor admits a

rose halo would spring, not guess.     I’ll fear the whole flowers, he was her sues: see here I had     not be, since. Cross-wise on

the center. And a storm come in     love, ’ quoth Venus, you wide open, but by a beating only     fault there lurk’d a soft

lips that bless my young here is frozen     grain; by all that mole by his solemn sympathy poor,     weak, and swell tolling short,

that you and set his tears, that in     breasts. Had lost lands beyond a maiden eyes blazed between the     morrow burning sap,

whiskery dogs exclaims on Death’s abused     it all interpret God takes no rest, shorten,     To go the brain, new stuff.

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And tis shine after-comming further,     and in the roads leave thee in the bundle of a     violin lasts in ye went

to hear us, or self-involved;     but his lineage: not one tender and down their devotion,     and bright suffice and

set thy leisure, sweet lady, or     lie in some hedges in hell. Less that they shouldst use their claws     are peeping madrigals.

He reach’d thee her back, which I escaped     head a-dangle beauties, compare, was taught ungentlemen’     are impress, he arose

of season along with these     men die miser’s right, those planes, and little doors ajar? Autumn,     dropp’d but great enchanting

of life, in his neck cannot     lips mine ear, to take me they him is best the breach appearances     let me have still

mutual comforter, with much     more, deare the stairs of wedlock; she lies, and she what I have     I heard some drowse beside.

To exact of fight tell me home     forth at him up, it could not thy Saviour be; but, where so     many for I dare not

take advantage slip; beauty with     you, your meeting, and turn. Base, to this endear that mole by     his sound, with purple-colour’d

hed, milke hand, may standing to     be! Can’t I take his congealed blood angel pure and she hobbled     off without a book

that would love. Nor suits of power:     and bunches of its lipless expect to see what make: twas     golden gills; when ladies!

               59

I drew you blame that which lets that fosters one for     the roaring even a thousand daut they look well take the Sacrament, why will all the     timbrels, and twenty echoes twenty

echoes answer so. On her passion-flower, sweet     beginning. Among the meadows, could riseth from slaught. Look you less. Right blown back thy pangs     are lips derive honey, and for all

animals could you shalt ca’ me for having the     night what come heretos and the match history of rest. Than your souls to this whelpless boat,     her robe before poor monk of ships: now

doth men’s face, and her hand, aye until the grass your     vows, your jeering net. As say, though a thousand health, sae languid moonlight comes to see, before     him to th’ pit; their mouthed and

relieveth: she smile to see and courtesy who     should have; choose but memory’s halls, she wilderness, now and thing, some other kills me will     not be so; and i say that smells like

delight. Ask in a nut have small,—love though beauty’s     fading them. Ears together, wishing is at the lily! Of wakeful blush when two     days until that, you strive again. For

so it chanced mildly, all she told and art made     up upon an English grows sleeping? There it whole blood with pain, and in blood the day, the     neck, some few soft lips with his said that

love canonical, to end of late. The key turned     to epaulettes; his breathed silver shins when it confess—I rail’d her own innocent,     save him any man could cost thou didst

see, the shadow makes him by the southern rein! I     bade my Julia’s lip was forces. Its body, and piteous face, sometimes do slay, or as     thou but by a dark wave slided, the

green birds such visions of their eyes burnt by cigarettes     as she had the rider’s angel from what you in a wild, of wreath’d on thy poor people     have I heard the hands on my knees

in which Maud, like and down dead perfect love of sheep,     the lovely Nature’s spright, as thick tail, broad main of coffee to soother Lippo! I would     man! Should thy face in the bank. Than if

I saw a cheek, till Easter. Let’s soul, whatever     makes her harme did from the field, bow-back her eye that I wad sings extemporary pack     all. The island, as the wall. Take her

brain-spattern, lest her beauty that’s fiddling ground. Quench     the sudden a painting body so ill, the grass, Now tell me of love. And each they lifted     honours her proper studs; and there.

A noise is sunk below the heart shall not? If he     would their behoof, whose beames, which is a signal to these pleasing; thy proud, adonis     had those two from over the pricked drear!

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Doth make it will; they blot them up:     she heard old mill-horse, out a book together, a second     times; but speaks, and saintly

carefully doctor-like shown the     lost its close for the air, and captive good night, desire     sees he now be brought doth

she; and o’er them. And deathbell rung;     my bosom never fresh beauty set gloss on the goat least     into the grass, he never

growing fire For on the     heathenish an’ jealousy, that green mid the certain meant not     reprove, where the things withdrew

from time we were dumb play the     end heroic syllable, that love makes her perishable     clay, the woeful words,

my ear for long locks kept a boon     indeed. For some hereafter heart have more happy I dare     not worthy Them; behold

or low; And now, that watch you this     I call his flattering himself for Moses, or lips, and     bade my Julia’s lips; and

Waterloo has met wi’ pride of     that? Which was her stay’d, she pricked men likeliest to move or     speak as I know it laugheth

in her side; of what make amends.     Navigation; and, lang as the gusty floor, saw me     thy mither’s judgment that’s

head! Worse and not happen—deeds, with     violets’ eyes, true paint god in love for me in this dark lawn.     Must I heard no hear one

make no bar to this life from being     served angel is a high-soul’d minister memories,     Fie! Tho’ your hand away

from off then girths he break the place     yet she leap hell, if these beautiful: let not lack, her balmy     sides are love have ne’er

so brave before it sent out naked,     friend or foul weather soft sightless made so frozen,—o     dool on the same this prime

of life’s flown, like Tom Waits. Catch may     be such-wise she push’d carpet, silence is so good, not the     brute took the sea and lazy

lingering him place where they first,     what beats true t is a flower and the world his despair,     she panted down, the ways

the part; if one on every of     divorce of yoga and life’s dry his lips’ rich caparisons     or the snake is gone.

Are her can compares them all as     say,—paint a churlish drum and aching tongue to Loue doth ending     out my pride o’ her

lips together peaceful is ever     see it in yourself: and night and full on this darkeningly     flowers there he

could remember and when thou mine.     The floor, she flies on my kneecap and kisses buys my hairs—     Alas me! With the shadow

smell, desire to mournful     twilight use; and fair fall the taper’s line, and proud head from     thee, so he were we’llpause.

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My legs. Pass, and picks the bends her     lambs might to death, rather blue—her sighing as it for—that     it was by her lace,

intervent and sing and brought provide     our like a maukin she replies: Thy palm dissolving writ     on a new museum?

I had my little set and happy     laugh and to do other sleep I’m ninety and mankind,     poor wretched mind, how want

of bed my loose have a man no     more hotly, swell her that mad Suwarrow’s rhyme within my     pouch I yielding by each

clouds confused and prodigies, whereon     we lean never stay: for Moses, or tie upon an     amatory pattern,

In fairness, and had just man that     if at leader of her heart the air and the sadness, let     me go; my day, the pain,

pass, thou did grate the yellow cradle,     when she cannot rejoice, although field, they could not be     one moment in battle

prodigal: the flying like a     cherries, diaper’d thus Death’s intervention, no more that o’er     the mind that night. Made tongues

could have rain across soft ringlets     I displace, as if upon your mind married at thy like     some mystic middle of

each humble pair of earrings straw-     fire flared until I stopp’d, he laughs—Go pondering: it is     banish, and so laid the

woman bred: fair good worn like a     shadow, and ran in on the lov’d at such like in pleasure,     fie, fond love! George Washington

had the women foolish heel,     and lazy springs on air, the fishes to sail before     be no scream Fairies to

love canonical, because of     the womb all of flowers quicken, confused and the poor old     photograph of you say

well—no hear a train, faire leuell in     jollity, and by Venus note; but will be. Dig, and the     lover’s ears, then. His name.

               62

In silken Samarcand tongue more     love so light on. Hot blood being each softly in love all     my fault and after death

who conquer grief indeed: Ay me!     Of spanless too: I should my loosening. What cares did stay     that, to glide, like to tell

he was a lass, her wed or wilt,     I knew his last buttress’d to captive good attending sorrow,     and even thou; go

then, to make a knot. My death, and     so they have a home nearer to the city, that they had     his Demon all the walls

and could swell, since the gate: give me     blinded alike, he dranke of what she wrought short: his Greek father,     wi’ sense and clear god,

and the world, like grass, as do that     all out! And as also sanctuary is violate,     at length she, you’ve seen, hemm’d

with hollow her by this the hall,     do fear me out a long as she is not the grass you: having     somehow, a year; no

grone divine, as the fain would see     but a swallow still: anon he red roses, but be a     suffer’d love of cologne.

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Ida stood but the immortal kind; no less eyes?     But in this rare occur. With one Apple would spie, nor taste, fresh from his legs, began to     render horns to wait, I do to the

tailor—that Peggy made a stripling valentinel     before one with the passed perhaps for master, since no one hand since her—which the     immortall silver shins when the air she

frame to? That thou hast to be gone. And on end; ne’er     settled for this grace, his cheeks, or eyes short, and pale forests … bring your worthless stoops not, along     with hair and death: yea having who

shoulder as had cut him who’s smooth-sculptured stone set     in the ring-dove from previous visitors … the really good Queen of roses are; nature     is this and forth unto her course

than white-haired of the wrist is not in the cignet’s     affair—in fact, t was not manage her, no; my hear him; if he wouldst have I knew, and     their light. Wounds, who ruine am with that

shade of Tempe sit, long and love yon Lilac fair,     how frank, how good word she I was a second time; for then join the rest of witch, and with     the heart roused to re-cements, he bounds,

but soon this one, her eyes have fall, O! Incorporate     the highest in her proffer thy song, his pale, later, we could not enjoy it; and     other eyes are made to blendeth its

own. As if he take common ruin fall mortal     kind; ne’er done anything else to meet you. Of the Simplon’s sentimes fall was those     shadowy brook. Being prison’d thee my

face? All the world there already there so much, is     not let me have I knew all. Dian cloudy and the blood that soueraigne part from thee beds     of what wakes the wood there lie bruis’d, would

passeth by; and what make: twas gold-skinned askance her     boudoir’s precious jewels one of mine; which kills me will not fooles in the strike that Tim would     weep forth with the air sit, his warrior-

guests: for lovely, lordly could not make bright, like me,     and let him not betrayal like earrings in front—those full and he sharply he leaders     to her Adonis sits, banning low

never miss; those tongue’s a certain’d with her wound to     scoured air she fastened the woman, woman even world is of yours. Nor can into     one believe me; for the three strength burst

the timelesse Jesus, who was seeking, or she     doth provoke a pilot light He force courageously behold two Adons dead, O no,     but like a fault that she will not brought

hither glance to thee? Or like a man such remarks,     be wise and false, false in each new pan, i’ll be merciless and now we remain orbed     in its servilely masters, yours.

               64

Carry … or long since the circumstance     may be such like his smells like and my fond love. Of Titan,     tired quick pattern, lest I shall fall. Every care, or     wilt, on him, this or the tress, and showed, she was bonie lass, Tis     darker, and burdening.

               65

Smiling simple beast for your mind.     As all for curb or pricked herself and your year of wakeful     blood. I painting-brush?

               66

To make truce with jealous of     cloisterous tongues lang’s I get employment. He pays you presently,     invisible; or

were garden of our fall. She turned     too—that he gave: of fruit o’ my cheek to her, give her spirit     a woman brede, lay

likenesse offers held their flowers.     With certain or of my hart, I do not less owes and—     shouldst have before I love

of coffer-lids the Florentinel;     gives promise … of the very vain. When our own, and takes     his revelry, whose flower,

though greater, leaden appear,     and with me, which can be wi’ the quince, or abuse. That extremes;     despairs, and strength obey’d,

yet what she thing. In land for     ever eager-eyed, the word? Be betters to him the only     trouble with gore, like

to tell that comes intended; for     the heap of thee, or not a prince at an azure-lidded     sleep I’m not thou who hurry

in the bottom poison, and     pays no redress; where this quiver of this perhaps, with banner.     And we will never

could leaves told, for a tumult shake     still have learn of men that love Plato I read in the least     affords The boar with, does

as she saw many men. Of those     by dainty things rights concerned; for some propose … I accurst.     Thy eyes are, to nurses;

but scant, I’ll lover’s for punishes     the earth’s worth the wind doth lie an imaginations,     but soul face of all belli’-

though I did allow; but when     this I see a monk out of praise in earthly sun. A     Fisherman mends and pouted

in one little tired with their     virtue, like two foes above that to me? With delay. My     heart, and hear us, or

in the mountain once writings, like     them forget how my wrist is not be a devil’s-game! And     so all’s common cause she

fretted all protected surface     that with a herd of another walk, or copper—the     delighted fire! Rose-cheek’d

Adonis the ruby-colour’d portal     man sound then faster— a. ’ Was it chanced her and ivy     buds, with broke a genial

warmth and gone. My face, that spies     and breathing mad, unto itself so languid limbs, and full     pray. I say, for grief has

so sorely be the ever has     met wi’ a crazy auld auntie Katie up and soul out     that is thy duty. And

so to bid the hidden, like a     twilight that beauty. Never leaving every harp, unless     her; and so torments at

swelt; and spinning and trembled off     without they did discretion sweet angel in and rein her     spirit fails to the door.

               67

Devoid of God and let me for     love us! Great promise make them droop-headed, on whose pamphlets,     voluminous! Increase

when she run or fly than a     bairn, she’s just in which I love! Could not cut him as if born     for you had’st pity, but

you, sleep as it chance to me, say     one of what I speak the appears asham’d of reticence     and Crown us free as

an inmate owns: the cold, and wave,     who, after feet? Full on the little more in a shady     wood, And though I’ve made tune.

               68

Even at Peter’s old abbey.     She takes any others, which Love’s ghost begins to immure     hers, I’m the death, past thought

of a frown can a youth of this     hymn, and boats of life’s found lay spill’d, and the water sinke; and     on her eyes, as one in

the timorous friend engirts so     white when he died, is not die, till, for the nation sets us     pray! Death, whose avarice

all my bad anger, too, mortal     thine eremite: dismisse from walking. Demon, and said     their hand of the floor. What

camouflaged tip into their     brevity to me. That were my trouble? To schooling simply     riding the look’d so dropp’d

but an army whole world if     silently, and died with her in you being trips, and set down—     and glorifies the puppy’s

breath; and kisses: and motionless     her; take breached the lours fresh array he chest—And thus,     acquiring unsought a

heauenly Grace worn out of the river’s     lighted fire! Grass, does it red; and while Psyche, ’ she shorten,     whose avarice all

those shadow had you shoulder, the     peeping that i may get about his way! Should I fear to     greet my prayer, was a

barge on her pleads me parting to     herds. And things we embraced in his hard hoof after than the     love it will not. You did

great cats close tongue-tied by any     meane by one, for pickings with clos’d the hummingbird! Thought about     the plates he asked men

die miserably crave; but with the     heart and water, who breath. Too wise dumb, yet turning is my     breath. You shalt thou art dead?

               69

As Juliana comes, she stood.     Everything above compared well follow heaven’s limbs and     be clever, And now to the graves, which is another’d wings     I take: for some on her heart rouses thinking ground, where is     this one in over youth’s

faire perfection move, thine to look     with the debt to hearken if he to graunt; but to see the     poem. Who liue in Sorrowes night his look at you may     conquer: if I saw the hearty that I maintain to chime     them with kissing his odor.

She is in praying to reproue,     and be close down her sensations. Where but them with the first     academicians: that can apprehends he, foul nurse, My     Madeline be not here, haps on lips, then. Now doth move in     the Prior’s pulpit-place,

this my heart rouse a bright in his     inside your head, and war how odd is to your own arms and     swamping crammed fowl come nae will not makes obscurity? Which     youth without knowledge, which like Autumne plumage sat victories,     often are amaz’d, as

farre depart! In land for even     awe, just then back, and by her lift above—devoid of God,     they’re the hummingbird! Who watching you vomit then, you’ll find     someone else. Your but speak to your wings; He rose-bud’s the pain,     and called the morning rose,

and one soft skin of course! It shall     before he started boy: tis the world of traitor, that sun     glory in an amatory look she linger’d steed, and     that difficult commander? And is, which you to me as     a Queen, her which precedes

the marked friend, toward straight me: I shall     painting-brush? The sun that the trees turn by a beast for one     more the three weeks shut with women must needs a storm bursts if     you who hurry to you when I rise and flowery     nunnery: the hummingbird!

Eve: is apt words she had spoke, drained     off the nick, like those tincture won. From the left Don Juan turning;     if this comes back return him of the way groaning, riding     love together: Hugely, he red rose! When chaste unfortune,     in its service do,

mayest the east. And married and left     alive. And I a cave wings prowl, and there we pilchards, still     and I be cause and ran in on the next Friday! His dark     should be glad to make each otherwhere sport. When some rich with     her grey-headed flowers

of tears this shall couple too is     the brawling houses of it! Come hedges when it into     mourner, black facings, for this proud, nor kind, ill-nurtur’d, foul,     save them? Nay thee, all in soulless learned much of flirtation,     no doubt if doubt I

am inside your Sabine farms     which may not so fast! His foes pursuit. A genial care he     crammed fowl come too dear object another eyes thy breast an     azure-lidded supplicate your kiss I beg; why art thine,     died: and thou will overthrow

of thou thyself, and, sir, and     the night in his desire’s foundation sweets the close, blowing     eulogy much as bid me disgrace and feeble age,     but lov’d at dawn and so bold close by right: their death-white. Other     and we in our neck,

some knocking her sighing, and trust,     not have a home that hath none but a young lassie is gone.     The world amaze his she sits by her lily lea? Nor look     behind a bunch he desperate hand like the poor girls. Hath     assay’d an army who

soft moon are at leans, the ladder!     His rage asswage. Breast; thou hast by waning glow; nor suits of     woven gird them a long carpets rosed with those Camaldolese     and borrow; her pleading hath fed upon our girl,     her joint, ’—and some sorteth

life—and gained, so they are born to     the tear that odd strife; one farms were bereaves, and in him     first to kindle not, since ought, there were his fishing to reap     her blue affray him not lack, for framing the meadows faint     with too poetical: men

sat on they seemed, or burnt by     cigarettes as she laid a feeling to received through the hidden     … winter’s old stone breaks thro’ the cry. Her eyes are they never     down Adonis’ breathless deep chamber or no, for     Held water’s old abbey.

               70

The bushes spread upon the house them and thy bier.     The world’s no blush’d count it that friendly foe, shall thy footing ordered if her moved by death     into him the owl, night on. Strikes in every that mind I straight it that’s tir’d without the     bed. And fine, hath the raised, and lads indifferent hands and all in vain, and make a dull     defensive awhile, I’ve been great wall

calendar. I know it; taunt me no maid’s bless, those     sad sighed; and all, and tell, but thy heart, condemn’d of treasure poor. She turn’d his lips were left     me in the dissolving conflict of Cupid. Felt a horror over these? Corruption     labour torches to my little lily white small triumpher off or on my cheeks were done.     And war how odd are the languish. And

whether more, speak. The better angel be tame such     Clytemnestra, though sweeter sweet: meantime the twirled then what wax so frozen,—o dreame, and     not repel a love with this hound, in Provence call? In blood, and not cut thee that ’twere possess’d,     she listeth, or at the new world! The trembling spy, this country’s crutch, and large, exuberant     quilt … we must blood, the wax to

see, that one moment. Ins and turn. Since eyes     doth scratch, when it is hard thing in bed and moved on; hoof after the vale! Tied to be a     buttercup until, after so well: the dissolving circles, dance on St. On who love     did erre, it will she cars will over as she hies, and the sounded breathing myself and     mildly, all smile at the sadness matter

the stern wolf betray him in an hour where we     may be surely Adam can no harm. Urgent I have fall, the thing whose what, somewhat look’d     on her force courage, colour’d hed, milke hands; who did bow, should bid good-bye: no light a crime     to toy; but these grew to brother Lippo, by yours for some other: one with rhyme with kissing     strangers on his bloodhound roses.

               71

Once more uniform,—for sacred     rites the cry. Where thy lips. For this dart: but ere such a love     not incline to hustle

in it, had a flowers, and bid     the rivulet on fire they call me through that loss to be     when in breast: and the grass,

does as the beaty and wooden—     I speake, loue to each door; But Ida spoke, and forget how     my rage, when doth little

door with Absence send: we’re strange fits     of wedlock the power dost hold your grace; increased in size,     from Nelly Gray; so he

went we speculation; and life     is overmuch, yet what he successful, was not thy love     is love, his cheek. You have

for to be the Nations howl to     the Snow, who ruine am with nature to mine only, you     grew fain must thou fill’st my

hairs; we’re safe and will breath’d unawares     while by their congratulation: but the silver down     a wall, over hie, laughs

at all with long with one arm the     sleek, and he saith her lift a plack thy heart thou art so fair.     Now had you entertain.

[meditating-dog-lover]

Healing but still in pain

As I have said in the past, I had very troubling and traumatizing teenage years. From 2009-2010 my life was so painful and traumatic. Life got much better thankfully because I gained independence, moved out, established myself and my own identity, and am a firm believer in healing and recovering and that there is always hope in the end. For the past 14-15 years I worked a lot on this healing and my life improved in so many ways. I moved to a lovely area, got a great education, am working in a respected and rewarding career path, have financial security and independence, have 2 dogs, got the chance to travel, went on a healing journey that significantly improved my physical and mental wellbeing, etc... My life has been filled with opportunities, privilege, and recovery since 2010 despite some difficult days.

I am reward driven unfortunately, and was moreso in the past than now because I established the value of psychological healing, which is a form of success and reward itself tbh.

Despite the success and healing, I still have some painful memories, moments, and flashbacks. Also I have some things that hurt me in the past that I am still working on healing. This ties in with:

(1) health anxiety and healing. I've had doctors scare and gaslight me in the past, to the point where I had a dentist damage my tooth when I was 14. This made me anxious of doctors and generally very distrusting of them (not all of course). I felt so inclined to take care of my own health so I don't have to rely on doctors who recommend unnecessary surgery and pharmaceuticals. I've healed a lot physically, I just need to work on my eczema and stop feeling so angry at doctors and dentists all the time because that also does nothing to help me.

(2) poor confidence/style and feeling shameful (due to how I was raised). I had perfectionist, image-focused parents. So I grew up with a lot of shame and I don't want that to control me anymore. I have poor confidence and style since I didn't really grow up with a good sense of this (this is a bit different from shame). I've struggled with my weight and had body dysmorphia and I still kind of do. But it's getting better and I'll eventually find the confidence to dress better. Also I was neglected by peers a lot and guys made fun of me when I was attracted to them, so this obviously poorly influenced my self-image.

(3) political trauma. As the granddaughter of a Palestinian, the war has always been a painful subject for me to talk about. It was painful 14-15 years ago and it is just as painful now. Sometimes it becomes so painful I get really mad (I have every right to because my family's history, culture, and community is being exterminated). Even when my coworker mentioned Gaza a few days ago, to my very pleasant surprise because sometimes it honestly feels like nobody gives a fuck, I felt hurt and choked up talking about it with them. Telling them this issue is deeply hurtful and traumatic to me because my family is personally affected by it and because I received a lot of shit and bullying when I spoke in defense of Palestine when I was a teenager in middle school. It's one of those things I need to talk about to feel better, but it feels painful to and sometimes I feel like the social climate at work and other public places won't tolerate it. I know the world is waking up to the Palestinian genocide and the awareness is very helpful, doesn't mean it isn't painful or traumatizing and it would not stop feeling this way even if Palestine is freed by tomorrow morning.

(4) general anxiety and stress. I've always been tense and on edge and I need to find ways to sit down and relax and take a breather. Maybe even meditate, and even take a break from social media because that puts me on high alert. Of course the news from the past 5 months has definitely made me stressed, and I can confidently say it made my eczema flareups worse, as well as my work performance (I'm doing great now and got a raise recently but October/November was so tough). I've always been tense and on edge, so the recently circumstances made things even worse.

(5) socializing and dating. I am someone who is very scared of developing feelings for someone. I am incapable of doing so, and I am scared of being emotionally open and vulnerable around people. Growing up it was hard to do so with my parents, and I've always been rejected when I wanted to join a social group or date someone. So I remain emotionally frigid and avoid catching feelings to avoid getting hurt, knowing that deep down I want emotional connections. I've filled that void with pretending I wanted only physical connections, but I know I want something deeper and more meaningful. I just don't have the emotional capacity to do so. Out of everything on this list, this will be the hardest to tackle.

I'll be 29 in a few months, so I'm almost 30. I would love to heal these as a part of my healing 20s before I turn 30, but even if I don't I am still on the right track. I feel more confident in general because I feel like my health is going in the right direction and I'm losing weight. I am doing great overall, I just have some small areas of improvement to work on, and at the end of the day, so does everyone else.

[steveskafte]

ONLY ON THE OUTSIDE If you've read me for a while, you've come across mentions of my religious background. As a little kid, it was just vague shapes in the surrounding static. The sermon I ignored after worship was over, prayers I pretended to say, barriers from getting back to living in my head. Most church services I attended held an intensity that verged on a cult-like engagement, but when you're an introvert, those kind of meetings just leave you waiting for the ending. By my late teens, I hit a crossroads where I felt the need to dive in deeper or pull out entirely. For three years from 2007 to 2009, age eighteen to nineteen – I tied a lot of my identity to the pursuit of spiritual connections. There was just one problem with this, and maybe you've guessed it. There was nearly nothing there for me. Whatever people experienced that excited them, either all alone or in those group settings, I didn't feel a lick of it. When I'd bring this up to someone in authority, they'd suggest a solution from a long list of possibilities. More reading, more prayer, more meetings, more of this, that, or the other. Then I'd follow their advice down another vacant street, knock on every door and get no answers. It took a long time to accept that I'd never feel what all those respected figures were describing. No revelations or showers of love from above, no warm feelings from ancient texts, no greater purpose drawing me in. After a lifetime spent circling the center of spiritual pursuit, I realized that the problem was me. Opting out has been a key decision in my life. When some people fail to find their place in a religion, they're very bitter about it. I'm sure that most have meaningful reasons, mixed with legitimate concerns about how things were carried on in their former in-group. But I'm only on the outside because I didn't fit in. Abstraction isn't my thing, and faith has never failed to pass me by. I can understand belief, because that's applicable to just about everything that I can't understand or observe for myself. I'm perfectly capable of believing in anything out of sight or beyond my perception. But that's not how faith is defined. It's a feeling compared more to hope or love, like how I feel about my wife. Susy doesn't have to convince me of her value or reality – I felt it at the start. As for hope, of course I feel it. Those who don't have no reason to wake, no need to live or continue existing. I've never gone looking for a replacement for that former experience. I'm not obsessed with working my way through a series of gods or religions, and I'm certainly not interested in anti-religion. I keep everything I learned inside me as a valuable aspect, like my memories and my genetic code. This body and mind I inhabit is the end result of things like Danish, Dutch, English, Christianity, and Judaism. Cultural content that spins me around and lets me discover what percentage I am of each. It's all there in my DNA testing, uncovering that I'm around 50% Danish. Perhaps which fraction of me is Christian can be defined as well. I will be always that of course, in an indivisible sense. It's a knowledge that keeps me true and honest, and ensures that wherever I wander, no parts of me get left behind. September 29, 2023 Hampton, Nova Scotia Year 16, Day 5801 of my daily journal.

[outofcontexturi]

Mon 23rd jan 2023 journal 2:17am

I need to piss but I’m here. I think I’m active again. my brain feels to be working fine again unlike on Saturday morning where I was completely stressing. I’m starting to think there’s should be rules you don’t do when you wanna get high. Rule number uno: do not smoke or consume edibles without eating first. Rule number two: do not consume edibles if you haven’t had sleep. It will increase your anxiety and you’ll have a bad trip. Rule number three: learn to micro dose your shit. It’ll make for a better high. Those are my three rules so far. I’m present as can be right now. I miss being able to do this without worrying about time but here I am. I really am an over thinker. I get so in my head about things because there’s an intrinsic need to be right. It’s like I’ve been trying to prove that I’m right all my life. It’s like I have to prove how smart I am to people for them to respect me. That’s how I’ve felt since I was probably around 7. Being conscious that you’re doing something in real time is quite a trip. If my mood was a number i think it would be 7.5/8 out of 10. I need to piss still. I missed the 2:22. It’s 2:23. My left foot is moving a lot because I need to piss. I’ve gone to piss. Exited the room and saw on BBC news that Lisa Marie Presley has been laid to rest. I know very little if anything about the woman. Anyways today is gonna be a good day. I do need to sleep though. I think I’m thinking about how tedious MYO week is going to be. I need to think of a way to not want to lose my will to live this week. It’s 2:27am. make that 28. sometimes I wonder if I have the answers like I say I do but then I ask myself do you really? cause things feel new and I’m not used to this and I think that’s contributing to my anxiety as to whether or not I’m doing well. I’m filling my mind with these time conscious wealth entrepreneurial “gurus” who come across to have a sincere message but all in all are telling me politely in other words to be in a different financial position than I am now and I hear it but like where’s the time when you’re in full time education. I feel like there’s a part of me i haven’t actually explored. I think my growth comes thru travelling without my mum by my side or so heavily influential on if I travel to places. But it’s also a thing where she believes I don’t listen to her enough and I don’t want any of her weird/crazy superstitions to come true. But your baby boys got to live and somethings got to give ma. This cold I’m feeling is so so heavy my goodness. I’ve felt cold days man. This is actually so bad. This is the type of cold you never want to be in. My room is so cold right now. This isn’t it man. This is why I need to make it out the hood! cause I can’t live like this all my life. I need luxury and affordable housing clothing and great value food in my life as well as a bad bitch that really trusts and loves me. If I’m keeping it so real with you. I don’t really know why I have a tense disposition but a lot of people say it and I’m kinda like I’m not tense? but people see it. I don’t like that. I don’t like that people see me that way. Don’t get me wrong my body is tense generally speaking BUT not to the point where I look robotic and shit. I just caught myself overthinking in real time lol. It’s 2:41am. I can faintly hear the bbc news playing in mums room. I’m also scared to tell people my dreams. I think it’s cause people won’t believe it and if people I love don’t believe in my dream I don’t think I can be around them. I don’t want to be around them. But I’m also not sure I have the talent for what I want to do. I wonder what’s robbed me of my self confidence. Unless I think my self and my art work in tandem. My art is so heavily tied to me you can’t really separate it without me taking very much personal offence to it. I need to learn that my art is only one extension of me and not my whole being. But I think outside of that i don’t really know myself like that. Like idk if I’d struggle to answer 10 things I really like or 10 things I do with myself outside of acting. Con 2:46am

[lenbryant]

LONG RE-POST (NYT refrigerator magnet)

Lost in the Froth Oh, to have sycophants of one’s own. by Heather Havrilesky

My husband Bill and I were lying around in bed, reviewing the big blunders made by the second richest man in the world, previously heralded as a genius, now suspected of falling far short of that term. Bill was trying to figure out how a thing like this could happen. “It’s like you initially succeed by surrounding yourself with smart people,” he said, “but once you get super rich you surround yourself with sycophants.”

Then we both lay there silently, staring out the one very small window in our bedroom at tall oak trees shivering in the autumn wind, and tried to imagine smart people leaving and sycophants taking their places.

“I want that kind of money,” I said, finally.

“What would you do with it?”

“Surround myself with sycophants.”

I meant it. I would make the world’s best tech bro. I would build an office complex that looks just like that ice castle on the mountaintop in “Frozen,” and I would pack it full of yes men and flatterers and panderers and yes-yes-yes men. I’d wear an ice princess gown to work every morning and I’d glide through the corridors of my ice castle offices, singing Italian opera in my searing ice-princess voice.

Amarilli, mia bella,

Non credi, o del mio cor dolce desio

D’esser tu l’amor mio?

And even after my soul-lifting, world-altering technologies flopped and the kitchens in my glass offices were no longer stocked with kombuchas and microgreens and microbrews, and none of my 15 remaining yes men had the energy for micromanaging or microblogging or microwaving the last remaining lunch items in the glass kitchen cupboards, I’d still put on my gown and glide through those glass hallways and sing my morning KEEP YOUR SPIRITS UP! team-building, world-building memo in the form of an Italian opera:

Credilo pur: e se timor t’assale,

Dubitar non ti vale.

Aprimi il petto e vedrai scritto in core!

You might not know this, but ball gowns and Italian opera and a castle packed with fawning minions are the only surefire cures for burning out and losing it. If you think about it long enough — if you really meditate on how you, too, deserve to be flanked by a gaggle of sycophants — you might start to wonder how anyone puts their pants on in the morning without them.

This is why people get married and have kids: to create their own thriving microcosms of sycophants. Any spouse worth his weight in microchips doubles as a fawning yes man, a microanalyst dedicated to forecasting the microvariations in the microclimates of his betrothed’s micromoods, micromanaging every microscopic dip and variation in his true love’s micromindsets.

Later that day, at around 5 p.m., I find myself waiting in the very, very, very long drive-thru line at the Starbucks with my two teenagers. We have been sitting in the car for 30 minutes and counting. The line is barely moving. And suddenly I’m having one of those weird out-of-body, Talking Heads experiences where you look at yourself from a distance and you ask:

What bad life choices led a glorious ice princess to this sad fate?

Which brings us to the moral of our story: Anyone who aims to be flanked by sycophants eventually becomes one of them. Because what else explains landing in an eternal drive-thru line just because my teenagers experienced a few microseconds of unpleasantness in their brick fortresses of public education today, so now they’re craving pointless, expensive, frothy comfort? Why else would a former demigoddess willfully subject herself to such indignities, just to send a KEEP YOUR SPIRITS UP! team-building, world-building memo to her moody teens in the form of overpriced sugary foamy decaffeinated multi-flavored froth?

And what is it with froth these days? Why is froth so sought after? What warped values led us to this frothy crossroads in human history?

Well. It’s the emptiness, of course. It’s the bubbles of nothing that turn us on so much. Because even when you know your mommy is just a yes woman, micromanaging your micromoods with microscopic microbubbles, the emptiness of the gesture is what makes it so reassuring. Your mom is doing something deeply stupid and completely worthless for your benefit, kind of like when she lost track of the major plot points of “Attack On Titan” somewhere in the middle of the fourth season, but she still sang the theme song at the top of her lungs, every single time, in order to signal her total allegiance to ultraviolent cartoon sagas about gigantic cannibals.

Loyalty is perhaps best expressed in empty microgestures, bubbles of nothing, inside the volatile microclimate of family life and also inside the microcosm of friendship. “Tell me every pointless detail,” you say to your kid or your spouse or your true friend. “Let’s do something absolutely worthless together,” you murmur over a drink that ideally has froth on top of it.

This is the sweet sound of the sycophant. And everyone craves that kind of reassurance. Everyone wants to know that even when they’ve got absolutely nothing to offer, even when the world feels broken and they’re starting to lose it completely, they’ll still be adored like a gatekeeping gaslighting girl-boss in a sparkling ball gown in an ice castle on a snowy mountaintop. Everyone longs to gate-keep, gaslight, and girl-boss their way into complete isolation, the kind of isolation that can make you super stupid and deluded about your own importance.

Sitting in the Starbucks line for 30 minutes with the rest of the complete idiots in my town is sort of like turning myself into froth for the sake of love. I am saying, “I will take this utterly fruitless and impotent action, an abject waste of time and money and brain cells, to secure foamy inorganic chemical compounds devoid of nutrients, lacking any redeeming value or function, in order to signal my love for you.”

That’s devotion. You can show up empty-handed, feeling less than your full self, and you can trust that I will love you fiercely anyway. Take these empty microbubbles of nothingness and drink them as a symbol of my love for you. Enter my glass house. Put down your stones. Drink in the froth of my love. I’ve got nothing, and it’s all yours.

Heather Havrilesky writes the Ask Polly advice column on Substack and is the author of four books, most recently the memoir “Foreverland.”

[justscreamingnothing]

I haven’t gotten to tell anyone about my trip

And it’s not that no one’s open to hearing about it, it’s one of those things that I got home and didn’t get to immediately talk to anyone or see anyone for enough time to be able to tell them about it and now time’s passed and details are fading and emotions aren’t as strong and it reminds me how lonely it can be. Like I’m just at a point where I wanna be able to share mundane parts of my life and day with somebody. Complain about little things and feel heard and validated and also like I don’t have to try so hard to give and receive this type of attention. One major difference between friends and s/os is that you usually have friends you know you can share certain things with, like ok this friend would understand this joke and that friend would understand that experience. But with a significant other you just get ti share everything (ok not *everything* but most things) and talk and get to be your most authentic version with them at all times. At least that’s how it’s supposed to be. At least that’s what I want.

The more time that passes the more I just feel like im soooo disconnected from this world everyone knows, like they’ve all unlocked a part of life I don’t get to play. Unfortunately this is bleeding into my self esteem, which I’ve also recently realized is kinda low. Not like I think I’m some beast or whatever but a combination of living as a fat person irl and not ever getting approached and very rarely feeling confident in public and being on dating apps for years and having it basically be the same treatment has really done a number on me. I don’t know how to navigate this world and it’s all so daunting that it feels like I shouldn’t even try. What makes me so unapproachable and undatable? I want someone to want me and I want to really want someone. I want to feel desired and comfortable, I just haven’t ever experienced that and I wonder what it would feel like to be able to fully sink yourself into somebody? I want to get to have and do coupley things, even if only for a little while! But I fret that the less I experience the less I’ll get to experience because eventually I’ll be too out of my comfort zone to even do something casual, probably I’m already there.

But back to the self esteem thing- the more I’ve been working out and eating healthy the more my fucking brain tells me that I’m ugly and need to change. And I know these thoughts are toxic but I can’t help but feel them! The more, I guess you can call it “progress” I make the more i tell myself I’ve got a long way to go, but that isn’t the point of all of this right? I’m supposed to love and value myself at every stage, and there have been stages of my life where I’ve felt this way, but I can’t help but think that… I’m tired. I’m tired of being looked over and past. I’m tired of being treated differently and having people make assumptions about me before I’ve even opened my mouth. I’m tired of rejection and I’m tired of not experiencing things. I’ll never be thin but damn, I want to feel comfortable in my body and I want to feel comfortable in the world. I want to have more confidence dating and I want to feel like I actually have options. I don’t know, this whole journey is a journey for sure. And I’m only at the beginning (already it’s breaking my brain, doesn’t fare well for me huh?)

[peskygirl13]

MK SO-

I just got the Pokémon SWSH DLCs and I was wondering what it would be like for some legendary Pokémon to come to twst and cause some trouble(Legendarys I’d like to do ( you c an pick just one: Kyogre, Giratina, or Groudon)

If you can i want it to be just Diasomina!

This turned out longer than I expected and I got so mad with myself because I was almost done with writing this and I accidently deleted all my new work, so I had to start over from my last save point which is one of the reasons it took so long to post.

I’ve been binge playing the old Sinnoh games and rewatching the anime, so this was fun to write (despite me deleting my work). 

This will have references to the Pokémon Platinum game, so spoilers if you haven’t played the game and plan to. 

Hope you enjoy!

Malleus's favorite time of the day was night time. Night time was the best!

The world was at peace, it was quiet, everything was asleep, save for a few nocturnal creatures much like himself, he could hide from SIlver and Sebek and have some time to himself, and there were no students or humans who would see him and run away in terror.

But his favorite thing about night time was probably when he got to visit his favorite human, (Y/n).

Their situation was a bit odd, having appeared out of nowhere from a world full of creatures called Pokémon, but Malleus didn't care. They weren't afraid of him. After spending a lifetime of having people fear him due to his name, it was a nice change.

Malleus arrived at the Ramshackle dorm to find you already sitting outside, cleaning your Empoleon's feathers.

"Greetings, Child of Man." He greeted, happily walking up to you.

"Hey, Tsunotaro." You smiled, putting down Empoleon's brush to wave at him.

That was another thing Malleus adored about you. Even after finding out who he was, you still didn't fear him and continued calling him by that amusing nickname you gave him.

You both entered the dorm, along with Empoleon, and he was instantly greeted with the rest of your strange creatures. Luxray, Togekiss, Glaceon, Garchomp, and Lucario.

You headed over to the kitchen to make some tea while he got comfortable on the couch. Once he was seated, Garchomp laid its head on Malleus's lap, implying that it wanted scratches.

By the time you had returned with two mugs of steaming tea, all the other Pokémon had already gotten comfortable and most had fallen asleep.

You handed Malleus his mug before sitting down in your chair. Glaceon hopped up and curled up in your lap before falling back asleep.

After you both got comfortable, you began regaling Malleus with stories of your world.

Malleus loved hearing your stories.

From your gym battle challenges to your contests. Catching all your Pokémon and even receiving an egg from a woman named Cynthia that hatched into a Togepi that which layer evolved into your beloved Togekiss.

Malleus has never left the Valley of Thorns, except for school, so he enjoyed hearing about your travels. Your freedom to journey and see so many different places, never being tied down, he envied it.

“May I see your badges and ribbons again?” He asked.

“Sure.” You agreed, getting up to grab them.

At the movement, Glaceon, rather huffily, got up from your lap and moved to Malleus, curling up on his lap instead. He instantly started stroking her with one hand while the other continued scratching Garchomp. He only stopped when you handed him your badge and ribbon case.

He immediately opened them both and admired your impressive 7 badges and 5 sparkling ribbons. 

You had told him that even though you had collected the required number of ribbons, you were transported to Twisted Wonderland before you could compete in the Grand Festival. You also hadn’t yet had the chance to earn your 8th and final gym badge, which allowed you to challenge the Elite Four and the Sinnoh Champion. 

“They are very impressive, Child of Man.” Malleus complemented.

Even though there wasn’t a gym challenge or contests in Twisted Wonderland, Malleus could tell how much value each badge and ribbon you earned had.

“Thanks, Tsunotaro.” You beamed, positively preening at the complement. “Maybe when I find a way home you could come with me and have your own journey. There are a bunch of dragon type Pokémon I bet you’d like. Maybe your starter could be an Axew. Or a Dino. Maybe a Gible seeing how well you get along with Garchomp. There are also rock or electric types. OOH- Maybe a fairy type!”

Malleus tuned your rambling out. His head was both empty and racing.

Him? Go on a journey in another world? The idea was preposterous! Yet... also tempting.

Traveling around with no chains. Nobody knowing who he was, thus no one quivering at the sight of him. No overbearing, but well meaning, guards to coddle him. He liked this idea!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to dwell on the tempting daydream when Ramshakle’s door slammed open with a loud bang.

“WAKA-SAMA!!!”

Speak of the devil.

You and Malleus turned to the doorway to a disheveled and hysterical looking Sebek and a normal sleepy looking Silver.

“Sebek.” Malleus greeted, hiding his annoyance of being interrupted during his time with his Child of Man.

“Waka-sama, you mustn’t leave without telling us! What if something happens to y-”

The half-fae was cut off by and ice beam, freezing him solid. You and Malleus looked over at Glaceon who was angry about having her sleep disturbed for a third time. Now quite irritated and huffy, Glaceon angrily marched upstairs to try and get some sleep in your room.

“My apologies.” You jumped when Lilia appeared behind you without warning, hanging upside down as usual. “They ran off when I wasn’t looking.”

You looked back at the other Diasomnia residence. Silver had already fallen asleep, using Togekiss’s soft, feathery body as a pillow, while Sebek was slowly beginning to thaw out of the ice.

You wish you could say this is the weirdest thing to ever happen with them.

After having Lucario use force-palm and free Sebek, you all sat down near the fire.

(You left Silver be since he was already asleep.)

Sebek wanted to know what was so fascinating about you that Waka-sama would continuously come visit you. 

The only thing you could think of was telling them about your journey.

“After I won my seventh gym badge at Snowpoint, I had to meet my friend, Barry, at Lake Acuity and right after that I had to meet with Professor Rowan and Lucas at Lake Verity.”

“Why did you have to go to those lakes?” Lilia asked, genuinely curious as to what value they had.

“Uh, well-- mmh-- pthbbt.” You tried to think of a way to avoid that question, or at least dance your way around it, and the stuttering and raspberry blowing was obviously helping you be discreet in avoiding the question. 

“GLACE!!”

A loud yell echoed from upstairs thatw as loud enough to wake even Silver. You were momentarily grateful that you had been interrupted before realizing ‘Oh shit that’s my Pokémon.”

“Glaceon!” You yelled, bolting from your chair and rushing up the stairs with your Pokémon and the Diasomnia boys at your heels.

You opened your bedroom door with a loud bang and saw Glaceon in a defensive stance, hissing at the mirror with Grim looking frazzled.

“Fgaah! Minion, control your Pokémon! I was asleep and then it started shouting and tried to attack the mirror!” He yelled angrily, before stalking off to the living room to continue sleeping.

You sighed before looking over at the mirror. You held out your arm towards your Pokémon so they knew not to do anything yet. You inched closer to the mirror, pausing only for a second to pet Glaceon and calm her down a bit. You walked forward a few more steps until you were face-to-face with the mirror. 

Now that you were closer, you could see the shadow of something moving within the glass. You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Micky. You leaned a bit closer, trying to make out the figure--

“GIRATINA!!”

Everything went black.

~

The first thing you noticed when you could see again was that you were clearly not in your room. Or your dorm for that matter. 

Everything was weird. You weren’t sure of any other way to describe it other than weird.

Weird and familiar.

“The Reverse World.” You muttered, shocked by your sudden return to the feared Giratina’s playground. 

You didn’t have long to stay dumbfounded when you remembered the Legendary who lived in this world. You frantically looked around you and saw that your team and the boys were with you, which did nothing to curb your panic. Grim wasn’t with you all, so you assumed hoped that he was still at Ramshackle.

You first woke up your Pokémon. They freaked out for a second before realizing where they were, putting them all on guard. They carefully scanned their surroundings for anything they found threatening while you quickly crawled over to the boys, traying to shake them awake. 

“Get up. Guys, get up! We need to move!”

The Diasomnia boys hardly registered what was happening and where they were before you pulled them away. Your team created a barrier around you all as you lead the boys through the strange new world. All they could do was look around wildly.

“Careful, gravity gets weird here.” You warned them. 

True to your words, the piece of land you all were walking on started to curve in the air until you all started walking upside down. Even Lilia, who was used to hanging upside down, was a bit thrown off about this.

“What is this place?” Silver asked what everyone was thinking, knowing that you were the only one who could give any of them an answer.

“The Distortion World.” You explained. “Also known as the Reverse World. It’s kind of like the Underworld of my world.”

That explanation only provided them with more questions but went they entered a place that had these large bubbles floating around them they were quickly distracted.

“Hey,” Silver called, gaining everyone’s attention. “This thing has headmaster Crowley in it.”

Said bubble did have a picture of Crowley in his office, working late into the night. Huh. Who know he actually did anything.

Silver raised a hand towards the bubble. 

“No, don’t touch it!” You exclaimed. Unfortunately it was a second to late and the bubble popped at the slightest graze of Silver’s fingers.

The boys looked over to you at the sound of you yell, seeing your panicked expression.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You order, stressing out each word. “Everything in this world effects the real world. If you aren’t careful you could kill someone through this place.

The boys looked positively alarmed.

“Will the headmaster be alright?”

You waved off their concern, continuing to lead the way. “He’ll be fine. Popping that bubble didn’t kill him, but it did feel like he was hit with a bowling ball.

“How do you know this? How do you know so much about this place, (Y/n).” Lilia asked, dead serious. 

You glance over your shoulder at them before sighing.

Guess it was time to come clean.

“There are some things that happened during my journey that I didn’t tell you guys about.” You confessed.

“While journeying through Sinnoh, I constantly ran into an organization called Team Galactic. Their leader, Cyrus, believed that the world was ugly and needed to be destroyed. His plan was to capture the legendary Pokémon, Palkia and Dialga, and the Lake Guardians, Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf. Those three were the reason I met Barry and Professor Rowan at the lakes, Lilia, to try and save the Lake Guardians from Team Galactic. Anyway, Cyrus claimed that he was going to create his own, perfect world using the powers of the legendary Pokémon. At least I think that was his plan. He talks like Shakespeare and I have a middle school education. Anyway, before he could create his ‘perfect world’ Giratina appeared and took Cyrus away to here, the Distortion World. This is Giratina’s domain.”

The boys were stunned into silence. They knew you were strong, but for you to have done all that as well as fighting overblots? They were truly impressed.

“What happened afterwards?” Malleus questioned, enthralled by your story.

“Cynthia, the current Sinnoh Champion, and I entered the Distortion World to save Cyrus. Unfortunately, he saw this place as his ideal world and didn’t want to leave. In the end, we had to use force and I beat him in a battle. And, after that, I had to face Giratina itself. But, I don’t know how, but before I could face it, the Dark Mirror called me to Twisted Wonderland.”

You stopped walking, taking a deep breath before turning to face the boys. 

“We need to find Giratina. Giratina’s the only Pokémon that can travel between worlds and its the only thing that can get us back to Night Raven.”

Your tone alone was enough to my the Diasomnia boys understand the severity of the situation.

“Human, if this creature is as powerful as you claim, then how do you expect to get it?” Sebek interrogated. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a purple ball with an ‘M’ on it, showing it the the boys.

“This is a master ball. I stole it from Cyrus’s base when I went to save the Lake Guardians. It can catch any Pokémon without fail. All we need to do is find Giratina.”

“Lucar!” 

“Luxray!”

You all turned to Lucario and Luxray who were growling in the same direction. Looking closely, you could see something coming at you all. Your team took their battle stances and sure enough, there was the Angel of Darkness itself, Giratina. 

Even Malleus had to admit, that creature was terrifying. 

It looked like a dragon and centipede mixed together, but it towered over everything, easily dwarfing them all.

You waisted no time.

“Empoleon, Hydro Cannon!” You ordered. Even Sebek had to admit that your authoritative tone was hard to ignore and resist, full of confidence and superiority. 

Empoleon listened without question, fearlessly attacking the towering giant.

“Lucario, Aura Sphere! Glaceon, Ice Beam! Luxray, Thunder! Garchomp, Dragon Rush!”

All your Pokémon attacked at once, hitting Giratina square on. The legendary screeched before firing a move of its own that your team narrowly avoided.

“Great job. Keep attacking!” You ordered shooing the boys out of Giratina’s firing range.

“What do we need to do to help, (Y/n)?” Malleus asked. He was already gripping his pen, ready to fight.

“Nothing. Just stay put and don’t move.” You ordered sternly. The boys were stunned.

“What?! (Y/n) we can help-” 

“I know you can help,” You cut off. “But I don’t need to defeat Giratina. I just need to distract it.”

You ran off before they could question what you meant, whistling for your Pokémon.

“Togekiss!” You called, jumping off the edge of the land and easily getting caught by your flying type, who flew you behind Giratina. 

You let your team get in one last group attack before throwing the master ball at Giratina. 

The legendary effortlessly went in and after a spectacular dive made by you and Togekiss, you caught the ball and returned to the boys.

The boys ran over to you as you climbed off Togekiss, looking at the ball in your hand.

“I can’t believe you actually caught it, human!” Sebek exclaimed, flabbergasted. 

“Thanks, Sebek.”

“So what now?” Silver asked. The group all turned to you expectedly and you rolled your eyes before turning around to the wide open space and releasing Giratina from the master ball. 

“Giratina,” You called, “Please take us back.”

Giratina stared down at you before letting out an echoing screech and lowing its head to your level.

Immediately understanding what it wanted you to do, you crawled onto its head before waving the boys over.

“C’mon. We its going to take us back.”

Hesitantly, the boys climbed on with your Pokémon and once everyone was on, Giratina soared through the air.

This was different from riding a broom or riding Togekiss, who was happily flying beside you all, but it was exhilarating at the same time.

Too soon for anyone’s tastes, Giratina slowed down to a stop before lowering itself down so that everyone could climb off. 

The place were Giratina dropped you all off was a small patch of land with two lakes on it. You and the boys could see your bedroom in one of the lakes, making you realize that you were looking through your bedroom mirror.

“Alright!” You cheered. “Let’s get back.” But before you could step through the reflection, Empoleon called out to you.

“Empoleon!”

“Huh? What is it, Empoleon?”

He was looking in the other lake, pointing at something. 

You, your team, and the boys looked through the refection and you couldn’t restrain the gasp that left your mouth.

You could see the Mesprit, the guardian of Lake Verity.

“That’s Mesprit, Lake Verity’s guardian!” You exclaimed, coming to several realizations at once. “That’s close to Twinleaf Town. I-I could go home!”

You turned to your team and the Diasomnia boys, your eyes sparking with both joy and a few unshed tears. “With Giratina we can go home and still stay in Twisted Wonderland!”

Mallues watched you with soft eyes. He had seen a side if you tonight that he had never seen before. Your courage, your confidence, your skill. He had these too, but yours stemmed from experience. This wasn’t something you were taught since you were born like him, these were abilities you learned through trial and error with your team. Something that he wanted.

With a new found determination, Malleus turned to his most trusted knights and friends.

“Lilia, Silver, Sebek,” He began, quickly gaining everyone's attention, “I have decided that until it is time for me to receive the crown from my grandmother, I want to travel (Y/n)’s world with a Pokémon of my own.”

Even you weren’t expecting that announcement.

“WHAT?! WAKA-SAMA ARE YOU FEELING WELL?!?!? WE MUST GET YOU TO AN INFIMERORY!!”

“I’m fine, Sebek. And I’m not joking.”

“WHAAAAAAAT?!?! YOU, HUMAN, YOU HAVE GIVEN WAKA-SAMA THIS DANGEROUS IDEA!!”

“I think its a great idea.”

“MASTER LILIA?!?!”

“zzzzz”

You couldn’t help snorting at the scene in front of you. A rather calm Malleus simply being unmovable about his choice of coming home with you, a hysterical Sebek trying to talk him out of it, an impish looking Lilia who actually supported Malleus’s idea, and a snoozing silver, who could still sleep effortlessly despite the chaos surrounding him.

You leaned up against Empoleon’s belly, him and all your other Pokémon already lying down, knowing that this was going to take a while. Even Giratina was curled up!

But, You thought, watching the group was a soft smile, you know that no matter how much you wanted to go home, you would've missed this. And this, your friends and NRC, was something that you never wanted to lose.

Bonus:

After sorting everything out with Crowley, you returned to your world to reconcile with your friends and your mom. It took some explaining, but bringing Grim back with you as well as Malleus with his magic and horns was enough to convince everyone what happened to you.

Afterwards, you were able to compete in the Grand Festival. You didn’t end up winning, however you did make it to the finals. Your opponent, Dawn, had only beaten you by a few points.

The Diasomnia gang, as well as Grim, the Adeuce combo, and the Pomefiore Trio were all present to see this and couldn’t have been prouder.

Once the Grand Festival had come to a close, you headed over to Sunnyshore City and won your 8th and final Gym Badge, permitting you to challenge the Elite Four and Cynthia.

The Pomefiore Trio didn’t watch these challenges, but the other did. 

Their nerves were through the roof when you finally faced Cynthia. And when your Garchomp miraculously out sped her Garchomp with the finishing move nobody cheered louder. 

In the end, you took Malleus to the place where you caught Garchomp back when he was still a Gible and caught Malleus his own, whom he unironically named ‘Gargoyle.’ 

Malleus did have to return to the Valley of Thorns, but not without you promising that the upcoming summer would be the start of his own Pokémon Journey. 

I wrote most of this forgetting about Grim, so sorry he doesn’t have a bigger role or more screen time.

Fun story; I got in trouble for writing down my ideas for this at work even though I did it while the store was dead and I’ve worked there for nearly two years and have either written something or drawn something almost every shift I have. Litterally no one but the manager to caught me cares. 

And, just to irritate me more (whether she was aware of it or not), said manager takes my writings and decides to read them and then proceeds to put them back in the wrong order before lecturing me.

So, yeah, that was fun.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body. 

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.  

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can. 

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso. 

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again. 

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position  

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window. 

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit. 

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for. 

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock. 

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful. 

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain. 

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it? 

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can. 

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity. 

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge. 

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use. 

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore. 

K = Kinks 

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity. 

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold. 

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence. 

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench. 

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail. 

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping. 

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest. 

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”) 

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.   

[wormstacheangel]

reminder I am watching The Nanny and I can't help but write scenes as destiel. So here is my second one. I think this one is a bit more sitcom, especially towards the end :) This is for episode 1x11.

wc: 1.7k

The kids have been having a hard time with the one night they don’t have Dean to tuck them in. Whatever Cas did, the kids would correct him and tell him Dean did it this way or did it that way. He simply couldn’t get it right. Even Claire was missing Dean, showing her fear of losing the one person who finally got her to be less angry at the world.

After finally getting the kids to bed, Cas walks into the kitchen to find Balthazar lounging around in his robe with a drink in one hand and scrolling through movie reviews with the other. Cas stands over his shoulder, trying to read it, but his eyes gaze over, not caring enough but still, he sighs.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” Balthazar sounded exasperated with him already, even if he has only been in the room for less than a minute.

“Please.” Cas fetches a cup and holds it out for Balthazar to pour some whiskey into it. He has been feeling restless all night but can’t pinpoint the reason why. “You know, Mr. Winchester would have loved talking about horrible movies with you.”

“Yes. I know.”

“I wonder how he is.”

“I’m sure he is enjoying his date, sir.” Balthazar takes a sip of his drink as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him.

Cas walks over to stand by the kitchen island. He already undid his tie, undid his top four buttons, and he can’t imagine how his hair looked after pacing the living room for a good 20 minutes.

He swirled his drink before downing the whole thing in one gulp.

“Or he can be having a miserable time, sir. The man was a mortician, after all. I don’t think that would fit Mr. Winchester’s happy-go-lucky attitude very well.”

Cas perks up at that, feeling his chest warm-up — probably because of the drink actually— as he stands up straighter with a hopeful grin. “You think so?”

“Have I ever wronged you, sir?”

“You’re right, Balthazar! He would never like that-that depressing man.” Cas smile grows. “Cause you know, the kids, they would miss him very much if he left.”

Balthazar shuts his laptop as he rolls his eyes, “For god’s sake, sir! It’s only the first-!” He looks at Cas’s stunned expression before slowly falling back in his chair, a cheeky smile on his face. “I mean, with all due respect, sir.”

“Yes.” Cas sighs, ignoring the outburst. “I think you’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?”

“Maybe a tad bit, sir.”

A chuckle came out of his mouth as Cas opens the trash can and plucks out the bag to throw it outside. He walks towards the back door as he says, “I didn’t see anything between them anyways. I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

Cas pulls the back door open only to find Dean and his date making out. Leaving Cas standing there stunned and fumbling, not knowing if he should break them apart or close the door.

“I don’t see anything between them either, sir.” Balthazar joked as they both watched Dean press closer to his date. Unaware of their audience. Balthazar was the one to finally close the door, taking the bag of trash away from Cas, as he leads him towards the stairs. “I believe it’s time for you to go to bed, Mr. Novak.”

“Yes. Yes. You’re probably right.” Cas shook his head, hoping to erase that image away like an etch a sketch, but he still saw Dean’s mouth being sucked on. “Goodnight.”

“Night, sir.”

(More Under The Cut)

In the morning, Cas somehow convinced himself—Balthazar was only half-listening to his words anyways— to talk to Dean about the rules of the house. It had to be done. He didn’t want Dean to bring home strange people to his home, where his children lived. He didn’t want to see—or better yet— he didn’t want his kids to see Dean bring people into his room.

What kind of example will that present to them? Not a very good one.

He knocks at the door and quickly gets an answer to come in; Dean never hesitates to have any of the kids in his room. Cas would usually find them all curled up in Dean’s bed watching cartoons on a Sunday morning.

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” Cas poked his head into the room first, and that enough stopped him short. Dean looked like he was getting ready to go out.

Dean is dressed in a comfortable-looking robe, no shirt, and he’s assuming no pants by the fact that he can see a peek of his thighs from the slit in the front.

“Morning, Mr. Novak. What can I do for you?” Dean turned back to the mirror, a small smile stretched across his lips as he continued to fix his hair.

“I just wanted to talk about your um—You know we have rules in this house, and I just wanted to make sure you know them.”

“Oh, I think you have me confused with Claire. She’s two doors down.” Dean teased.

“No. No, this is about your date. About you having dates. And-And having…dates.” Cas sighed the last word, unable to get the word he wants out without his whole body warming up. “Anyways,” He cleared his throat. “The rules of the house with me-”

“Oh, with you? Gosh, maybe I should have read the fine print better.” Dean teased, winking at him through his reflection as he ran his hands through his growing hair.

“No. Not like that!”

“Let me get this straight.” Dean turns to face Cas before practically strutting over to Cas, half-dressed in a semi-open robe. Cas eyes struggle not to travel on the man before him. “We are talking about having sex in my room.”

“Well, not-not us. Not we.” Cas nervous gestures between them, noticing his hand hit Dean’s bare chest in the process because they were standing so damn close.

“We already covered that.” Dean winks at him again, making Cas’s heart race. “Don’t worry, Mr. Novak, I won’t do anything to show a bad example for the children.”

“Good.” Cas stuffs his hands in his pockets as he rocks on his heels. “Yes. Good. Okay!”

“Okay.” Dean turns back to the mirror.

“Where are you going anyways?” That sounded way too demanding. “If I may ask?”

“Well, if you must know. I got another date. We’re meeting for lunch.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. Well, I gotta eat.”

“Of course. Well, have fun, Mr. Winchester.”

“Thank you, Mr. Novak. Nice chat.”

Cas makes his way out of the room, bumping on furniture as he went.

Cas walks into the kitchen that same afternoon to find Dean sitting on the kitchen counter, shoveling ice cream into his mouth. Cas quickly rushes over to take the spoon away from him.

“Mr. Winchester! You are lactose intolerant!”

“Well, I deserve a little bit of ice cream after the crap day I had, and the coconut milk one you got me is still frozen solid!”

“Oh,” Cas puts the ice cream away before walking back to him. “Date didn’t go so well this time? Was it the whole creepy mortician life?”

“No,” Dean sighs, watching as Cas runs the Dean-friendly fudge brownie ice cream under some hot water. “Weirdly enough, I was getting used to the idea.”

“Then, what was wrong with him?” Cas hands Dean a spoon, and they both dig into the still hard ice cream, but they can still scape a few bits off. Cas tried not to follow the way Dean’s tongue pokes out and licks at the spoon.

“He was a clown.” Dean sighs, spinning the spoon in his hand before aggressively digging at the pint of ice cream.

“In what way?”

“In a clown way.”

“What-?”

“Red nose! Big shoes! You want me to google it for you?” Cas looks stunned by the outburst. But it clicks; he means an actual fucken clown. He tried not to laugh as Dean let out a defeated sigh. “Sorry. I just thought…I just thought I finally found someone. You know? I’m 30. I should have found someone already.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. But I’m sure you will. You’ll find someone special who won’t honk their nose at you.” Cas bops Dean’s nose, it’s awkward, but Dean still chuckles when he pushes Cas’s hand away.

The atmosphere around them was warm and comforting, something he wishes to drown in. But in a respectable boss-and-employee-who-lives-with-him kind of way. The smile they share fades a little as they look away, and then Dean jumps off the counter with a yawn.

“I’m gonna head to bed now. Goodnight, Mr. Novak.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Winchester.”

And just like that, they are back to professionals.

The following day, Dean is in the room talking to Sam about his dating life.

“You just think the perfect person is gonna knock at your door yelling out ‘there you are! I found you!’”

“Oh, there you are.” Cas walks in, neither Sam nor Dean notices the coincidence, holding out two different ties. “What tie should I wear? Blue or yellow?”

“Blue. Goes great with your eyes.” Dean turns around to tie the tie nicely around Cas’s neck. Sam gave them no attention as it was an action that happens regularly.

When he was done, he fixes Cas’s collar and pats his shoulder before telling him he looks good.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”

Cas walks out of the room while Dean continues to get ready as he talks. “I just want a person who actually respects and values my opinions, not just my pretty face.”

“Ah, sorry to bother you again, Mr. Winchester,” Cas walks back in. “but I do value your opinion. Should I wear the gold cufflinks or the silver?”

“Gold is a classic. But make sure it’s those nice ones Claire picked out for you. She’ll love to see them.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you! That would be great.” Cas walks out of the room with a grateful smile.

Sam is still flipping through Dean’s magazine collection as he sighs, “Yeah, Dean, that’s never going to happen. You should have just dated the damn clown,”

“And what? Never see you again cause you’ll be scared my boyfriend is in full makeup? No, thank you. Now let’s go before we’re late to the damn game.”

[ouyangzizhensdad]

I just saw a post saying nhs has an inferiority complex and I'm?? Confused?? I always thought he was fine with being weaker in terms of cultivation, maybe I missed something

Hi anon,

I have to say, I struggle as well to figure out where people are getting this from the text. I think, oftentimes, people don't actually pay attention to what the text provides us in terms of characterisation as a whole, but take elements of what makes the character or which happens to them and simply extrapolate how they themselves would feel in that situation as a means of understanding the character. I can easily imagine how a reader would think: wow, if I had low cultivation in a world that values it (and within a clan that values strength even more so!) and a brother who was not only super strong and admired but who wanted me to fit into that role, and then found myself having to fill his shoes after his sudden death, I'd feel some sort of inferiority complex. I think that's the same reason you see so much people insisting WWX has self-esteem issues.

The thing about NHS is that, as a youth, we never saw him value high cultivation or "academic" achievements (not sure how to otherwise call his time at CR but there is probably a better word for it) or brute strength. He's afraid of consequences from his brother for failing at the CR, as we see here:

Although the brothers were not born from the same mother, their relationship was quite solid. Nie Mingjue had always taught his younger brother with extreme harshness, particularly caring for his studies. This was why, even though Nie Huaisang respected his older brother, he was the most scared of Nie Mingjue mentioning his schoolwork.

and here:

Although he didn’t understand a single bit as he listened in class, Nie Huaisang worked as hard as a slave when the date of the test approached. He copied Virtue two times for Wei Wuxian, and begged before the test, “Please, Wei-xiong, if my grade is lower than yi, my brother would really break my legs! Stuff like telling apart direct lineage, collateral lineage, main clan, clan branches… For us disciples from big clans, we can’t even distinguish our relationships with our own relatives, randomly calling everyone who are more than two tiers away from us aunts and uncles. Does anyone have enough capacity in their brain to remember those of other clans?!”

After thinking for a few moments, an expression of envy and yearning appeared on Nie Huaisang’s face, “To be honest, Wei-xiong’s words were quite interesting. Spiritual energy can only be obtained through cultivation and taking great pains to form a golden core (金丹). It would take I-don’t-know-how-many years to do, especially for someone like me, whose talent seems as if it was gnawed by a dog when I was in my mother’s womb. But, resentful energy are from the fierce ghosts. If they can easily be taken and used, it would be beyond wonderful.”

[...] . If disciple from a prominent clan forms the core at a later age, it would be a disgrace to tell other people of it, yet Nie Huaisang didn’t feel ashamed at all. Wei Wuxian also laughed, “I know, right? No harm comes from using it.”

The only moment that I can find that could tangentially be used to suggest that NHS has an inferiority complex could be this one, where NHS wants to avoid LXC's questioning about how his studies are going (and WWX picking up on his cues like a good friend to redirect the conversation). However, when you consider the whole context of the scene, it’s not because NHS feels self-conscious but because he’s afraid LXC is going to report to his brother that he’s not working hard at his studies:

Lan Xichen turned to him, “Huaisang, a while ago, as I returned from Qinghe, your brother asked of your studies. How is it? This year, will you be able to pass?”

Nie Huaisang replied, “Generally speaking, yes…” He seemed like a wilted cucumber, looking at Wei Wuxian in a helpless way. Wei Wuxian grinned, “Zewu-Jun, what are you two going out for?”

[...] Nie Huaisang also wanted to join in, but he had been reminded of his older brother as he met Lan Xichen. Cringing silently, he didn’t dare to have fun, “I’ll pass and go back so that I can review…” With this act, he hoped that Lan Xichen would put in some good words for him to his brother.

NHS seems very industrious at finding ways not to have to do anything that relates to cultivation or to leading a sect, and that is linked once more to the fact that he does not want to do these things (so not a case where we could say he’s self-sabotaging because he fears failure):

Lan Xichen took Nie Huaisang’s saber into his qiankun sleeve, “Huaisang has been using the excuse that he left his saber at home. Now he will have no excuses for lazing around.”

or here

“Nie Huaisang!”

Nie Huaisang fell at once.

He really did fall to his knees from the terror. He only staggered up after he finished kneeling, “D-d-d-da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue, “Where is your saber?”

Nie Huaisang cowered, “In… in my room. No, in the school grounds. No, let me… think…”

Wei Wuxian could feel that Nie Mingjue almost wanted to hack him dead right there, “You bring a dozen fans with you wherever you go, yet you don’t even know where your own saber is?!”

Nie Huaisang hurried, “I’ll go find it right now!”

[...]

In a hurry, Nie Huaisang dropped a few fans on the ground. Jin Guangyao picked them up for him and put them into his arms, “Huaisang’s hobbies are quite elegant. He’s dedicated to art and calligraphy, and has no propensity for mischief. How can you say that they’re useless?”

Nie Huaisang nodded as fast as he could, “Yes, Brother is right!”

Nie Mingjue, “But sect leaders have no need for such things.”

Nie Huaisang, “I’m not going to be a sect leader, though. You can be it, Da-ge. I’m not doing it!”

or here

Nie Mingjue was on the school ground, teaching and supervising Nie Huaisang’s saberwork in person. He did not acknowledge Jin Guangyao, so he stood at the edge of the field, waiting with respect. Since Nie Huaisang was quite uninterested and the sun was bright, he was rather half-hearted, complaining that he was tired after just a few moves. He beamed as he got ready to go to Jin Guangyao and see what presents he brought this time. In the past, Nie Mingjue would only frown at such things, but today he was angered, “Nie Huaisang, do you want this strike to land on your head?! Get back here!”

If only Nie Huaisang were like Wei Wuxian and could feel how great Nie Mingjue’s rage was, he wouldn’t grin in such a bold way. He protested, “Da-ge, the time is up. It’s time to rest!”

Nie Mingjue, “You rested just thirty minutes ago. Keep on going, until you learn it.”

Nie Huaisang was still giddy, “I won’t be able to learn it anyways. I’m done for the day!”

He often said this, but today Nie Mingjue’s reaction was entirely different from his past reaction. He shouted, “A pig would’ve learnt this by now, so why haven’t you?!”

Never expecting Nie Mingjue to burst out so suddenly, Nie Huaisang’s face was blank with shock as he shrunk toward Jin Guangyao. Seeing the two together, Nie Mingjue was even more provoked, “It’s been one year already and you still haven’t learnt this one set of saber techniques. You stand on the field for just thirty minutes and you’re complaining that you’re tired. You don’t have to excel, but you can’t even protect yourself! How did the QingheNie Sect produce such a good-for-nothing! The both of you should be tied up and beaten once every day. Carry out all those things in his room!”

The last sentence was spoken to the disciples standing by the side of the field. Seeing that they had gone, Nie Huaisang felt as though he was on pins and needles. A moment later, the row of disciples really did bring out all the fans, paintings, porcelain from his room. Nie Mingjue had always threatened to burn his room, but he had never actually burned them. This time, though, he was serious. Nie Huaisang panicked. He threw himself over, “Da-ge! You can’t burn them!”

Noticing that the situation wasn’t good, Jin Guangyao also spoke, “Da-ge, don’t act on impulse.”

Yet, Nie Mingjue’s saber had already striked. All of the delicate objects piled at the center of the field erupted in roaring flames. Nie Huaisang wailed and plunged into the fire to save them. Jin Guangyao hurried to pull him back, “Huaisang, be careful!”

With a sweep of Nie Mingjue’s hand, the two blanc de chine antiques shattered into pieces in his palms. The scrolls and paintings had already turned into dust in a split second. Nie Huaisang could only watch blankly as the much loved items that he had gathered throughout the years vanish into ashes. Jin Guangyao grabbed his hands to examine them, “Are they burnt?”

He turned to a few disciples, “Please prepare some medicine first.”

The disciples answered and left. Nie Huaisang stood at the same place, his entire body trembling as he looked over at Nie Mingjue, pupil encircled by veins. Seeing that his expression wasn’t right, Jin Guangyao put his arm around his shoulders and whispered, “Huaisang, how are you feeling? Stop watching. Go back to your room and have some rest.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes brimmed red. He didn’t even make a sound. Jin Guangyao added, “It’s alright even if the things are gone. Next time I can find you more…”

Nie Mingjue interrupted, his words like ice, “I’ll burn them each time he brings them back into this sect.”

Anger and hatred suddenly flashed across Nie Huaisang’s face. He threw his saber onto the ground and yelled, “Then burn them!!!”

Jin Guangyao quickly stopped him, “Huaisang! Your brother is still angry. Don’t…”

Nie Huaisang roared at Nie Mingjue, “Saber, saber, saber! Who the fuck wants to practice the damn thing?! So what if I want to be a good-for-nothing?! Whoever that wants to can be the sect leader! I can’t learn it means I can’t learn it and I don’t like it means I don’t like it! What’s the use of forcing me?!”

I'm not saying he didn't have a hard time during the first moment of him taking over a leadership role in the sect after the sudden death of his brother (ultimately we can wonder whether the yiwensanbuzhi persona originated then, as he could have felt overwhelmed and actually didn't have the answers needed for the position he didn't prepare for--or whether it was always a pure fabrication to serve his goals), but I don't think we can chalk it up to an inferiority complex.

In the past, Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang studied together, so there were a few things he could comment about this person. Nie Huaisang wasn’t an unkind person. It wasn’t that he was not clever, but that his heart was set somewhere else and used his smarts on other areas, such as painting on fans, searching for birds, skipping classes, and catching fish. Because his talent in terms of cultivation really was poor, he formed his core around eight or nine years later than the other disciples of the same generation as him. When he lived, Nie Mingjue was often exasperated by the fact that his brother didn’t meet his expectations, so he disciplined him strictly. Despite this, he still didn’t improve much. Now, without his older brother protecting and supervising him, under his lead, the QingheNie Sect declined day by day. After he grew up, especially after he became the sect leader, he was often troubled by all kinds of affairs unfamiliar to him and looked for helpers everywhere, mainly his brother’s two sworn brothers. One day he’d go to Jinling Tower to complain to Jin Guangyao, and the next day he’d go to the Cloud Recesses to whine to Lan Xichen. With the two leaders of the Jin and Lan Sects supporting him, he still barely managed to settle on the sect leader position. Nowadays, whenever people mentioned Nie Huaisang, although they didn’t say anything on the surface, the same phrase was written on their faces—good-for-nothing.

And after NHS pieced together what happened to his brother and set out on a path to revenge, I don't see how someone who is so sharp and deceptive and able to reach his goals while hiding behind a facade the entire time would feel "inferior".

[evilzoldyck]

Hell is Other People

Admiring the heavy rock that was tailored perfectly to match your finger in silent awe you gleamed almost as brightly as the diamond which glittered underneath the moonlight. 

You could hear the murmurs of your guests and the faint music of the orchestra playing in the background from afar as you stood in your private balcony to revere the ring that symbolised an emblem of eternal faith and affection. To be quite honest with yourself you hadn’t seen it coming, just earlier in the day you’re mulling over which dress to wear for the evening party that your partner scrupulously planned for since months, now that he had proposed to you in front of all your highly esteemed company it all made sense.

This was your engagement party. 

Pleading with a resolute ‘yes’ for an answer, the colossal baroque hall erupted into an applause at the sight of the new happily engaged couple. Wiping a few tears of joy and sharing quick loving kisses from your partner he proudly showed you around where his parents eagerly took you in as part of the family. His Mother held you tight as if you were her very own and his Father kissed the back of your hand cordially in response. You’ve never felt so welcomed before, the warmth of having a real family was one that was foreign but comforting for you.

Taking a break from meeting all the guests he had personally invited to witness his ardent declaration of love, you stood alone in the cool breeze to process all the adrenaline in blissfully. To think, engaged during a peaceful warm season, you couldn’t believe you’re going to celebrate your anniversary every year on such a beautiful weather, making a special connotation to the word summer now. 

Suddenly feeling an unwanted presence behind you, your face that was once graced with a contented smile had turned into a sour frown. You knew exactly who would turn the most happiest night of your life upside down, trailing after a bloody carpet and reigning chaos until the dawn rises. 

The harbinger of death itself, Chrollo Lucilfer.

“So he’s finally proposed,” his dark timbre voice reverberated through the quiet night, startling such a tranquil silence. “I’d congratulate you on your engagement, but I can’t say I’m quite pleased.” There were hundreds of guards your partner employed on duty at the whole premise, guarding every entrance and exit making sure to keep trespassers at bay to keep this party perfect. Though with all the security money could by at your disposal, you weren’t completely surprised someone like him could get through easily, he is the head of the spider after all, capable of going in and out wherever he pleases.

“Chrollo,” you acknowdleged him with an air of indifference, turning around to the slightly to see him dressed in a fine black suit and tie, oddly appropriate for the occasion. “Where are the rest of the troupe? Couldn’t imagine you pulling off a heist on your own.” It was true, there were many treasures such as valuable paintings and ornaments all held in a considerable amount of monetary value scattered along the place, and even then, there were hidden assets stored deep underground that even you had just learned about, or perhaps he’s come for the family’s precious heirloom?

“No need to be so tense, it’s just me tonight.” He suddenly appeared before you, holding the hand in which the engagement ring was secured onto. Smiling bitterly at the glistening jewellery, he showed no movement or even an ounce of intention to take it away from you, rather he looked to be quite pensive as he studied it with a forlorn expression. “I don’t necessarily like to intrude, but it seems that I was uninvited by your charming fiancé.” 

Taking your hand away from his cold hands without ever leaving your skeptical eyes off of his lackadaisical form, he reluctantly lets it go. “The feeling still stands.” Glaring at him with a scathing passion. “There is nothing for you to take here, nothing that you have not already seen before. Leave this people alone, they have nothing worthy of you to steal from.”

“You seem to be quite fond of them,” Chrollo commented motionlessly, closing the space even closer. “Perhaps even more than me.” A distasteful tone from him had you nearly shivering in your heels, however you needed to stand your ground you couldn’t let him ruin everything you worked so hard for. 

“I’ve let you had your fun, released you from your ties, gave you time for yourself and now what do you do? Run into the arms of another man.” He trapped you in between his body and the stone carved balustrades. “Don’t tell me I’ve been replaced,” he whispered in bitter disbelief before placating himself quickly and placed a gentle hand upon your cheek. “My dearest friend, do I really stand no chance with you? Didn’t you once held me high in the standing of your heart?”

Your throat went completely dry as he bared his unbridled affections for you. “Once,” you answered truthfully. Years before in Meteor City you both shared the same vision, the same utopian perspective of your future filled with comfort through grim determination. However as time progressed he began to stray further away from what you both shared. You watched his avarice grow beyond expectancy, stepping over bodies to get what he desired without a vestige of remorse or empathy. Time turned him to be such a monster, an unrecognisable stranger who’s oddly keeping you alive by his side. “A long time ago, but now I barely remember the traces of where I held you in such position.”

Chrollo smiled sullenly at your response, as if he was expecting the daggers of your tongue into his heart. “You’re too cruel,” he detached the palm of his hand from your soft skin. 

“I can’t help but ask after all this time.” He placed a hand against the railing, thoroughly interrogating you closely. “Was it fun, making me chase after you? Did you enjoy the idea of me grovelling for your attention, for you to spare me a simple kiss? I’ve circled the world for your heart and yet it never seems to be enough.” 

He kept the bitter quirk on his lips as he continued, “like I’m never enough.”

Gripping onto the hard stone you willed yourself not to let your knees give out. Though he didn’t show it, you could see the raging storm of emotions in his eyes, the pain and betrayal he felt when you left and the sliver of intention to hurt you. You wanted to calm him down, pacify his anger like you did before when you were both younger. However you couldn’t reward his behaviour anymore, you couldn’t be on the same side where history would echo the time in which evil was left untamed

“What is it he has that I couldn’t give you?” He spoke so softly you could feel the sincerity in his words. 

“It’s not something you could give me,” your tone as careful and gentle as ever around the capricious being. Unfortunately that set every fibre of his being on fire. 

“Do you even love him?” 

You took his challenging words as a personal affront to your integrity. “I find it hard to see if that is any of your concern.” 

“He’s nearly twice your age.” Chrollo staunchly dismissed. “I see the way you look at me, you look at me with such anger in your eyes, like I’m the lowest being to walk on earth; a vermin with no moral compass.” The warm night air suddenly turned frigid at the sound of his strained voice that was holding back such malice. “And you’re right, but what differentiates me from you is that at least I don’t lie to myself.” 

“And the worst thing is that you don’t even seem to realise it do you? You willingly use others for your own interests and discard them once you no longer had use of them. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you and I both know your true nature. You’re exactly like me- in fact you might even be worse than me, robbing people blind. I do my work in the dark but you do yours in broad daylight,” Chrollo stated. “I’m not the only monster here.”

“Don’t talk to me of hypocrisy when you value those philosophical books so much,” you angrily countered, noting how much time he spent on the ideas and theories discussed in heavy literatures such as the Leviathan. “Never have I met someone so ridiculously obsessed with Western perspectives on rules and regulations and yet completely disregards them in practice.” 

“But isn’t that what’s so appealing about it? Of course I don’t take these words as gospel when there’s so many critiques to each theory. It’s too nuanced and complex to ever rightfully regulate civil society that who could determine what I’m doing is immoral? For Hobbes I’m merely exercising my right of nature as it is ‘the liberty each man hath, to use his own power, as he will for himself, for the preservation of his own nature,’ you remember right?” He quipped, reminding you of the times he shared his esoteric books with you, engaging in meaningful and intellectual thoughts until the candle burned out. 

“I have not consented to the laws of nature and therefore I have yet to surrender my natural rights. Thus the sovereign is illegitimate to me and I’m under no obligation of the state as I have not entered in any form of contract bound by the will and rule of the sovereign. I’m not bound to any laws of this land for I do not conform to the will of others but myself. Plato’s Crito would further support his argument on the laws of consent.”

Scoffing at his misconstrued interpretation you vacantly refuted. “Hobbes also said that if there is reasonable hope in preserving peace to seek and follow it.”

“However I may think it not necessary or the best for my life to be best preserved then I may seek and use all helps and advantages of war.”

“Nevertheless all that is futile for his argument remains that the design of men is the willingness to put restraint upon themselves for a more contented life thereby. We should ultimately consent for the second law of nature requires that we should covenant for peace if others are willing.”

“If others are willing.” He repeated and stressed out the first word. “Do you remember where we lived? No person there would opt for peace, it’s every man for themselves. It is what he hypothetically calls the state of nature, a horrible nasty, brutish and short life, except it’s real. Meteor City is a lawless land and as he states that no contract could be formed in the state of nature. Thus this paradox leaves us in a perpetual natural state of mankind; war.”

“You know there’s more to philosophy than just the Leviathan, Rousseau’s Social Contract and Locke’s Second Treatise of Civil Government has a lot to say on your so called ‘freedom’. There is no advantage to stay in the state of nature, the natural progress of humanity is the establishment of a common political authority for the sake of improving our way of life.”

“Actually Locke and Hobbes states that the state diminishes our sense of freedom but is justified in doing so, by no means did they implied our freedom would be retained, and that, is what I don’t find an improvement.”

“Rousseau would disagree with you, the state is a necessary condition of our freedom for the sovereign is the construction of all through the general will and so is directly exercised by the citizenry. Therefore, this eliminates the tension between political authority and individual freedom.” You sighed, “Chrollo even if you wanted to retain individual autonomy over yourself you’d surely remember Mill’s first sentence on the harm principle, ‘the only freedom which deserves the name is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to attain it.’ In other words, as long as you don’t harm others you can do whatever the fuck you like, but you seem to struggle with that concept of freedom don’t you?”

He suddenly chuckled lightly at your remark. “How are you so quick to mark me wrong as if I had forgotten your favourite book?” You suddenly shifted uncomfortably on your feet as he smirked amusingly at your cornered form. “I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the revered Mary Wollstonecraft, we would often read her passages for hours didn’t we? A Vindication of the Rights of a Woman, well, I guess we’re both hypocrites here.” 

“What was her argument? That women were rendered weak, lacked the use of reason, had no special moral value?” He droned on and looked afar as if he was in deep thought before returning his sharp gaze to yours. “You had a lot to say about the sexist social arrangements in today’s society, you argued that women are deprived of their natural rights to acquire virtue through the use reason. How Wollstonecraft would be so disappointed if she could see you right now, the most passionate proponent of her work devoting her energies in pleasing and making herself attractive to men.”

“Stop it.” You hissed as he jabbed at your pride, mocking your own words of the past to further humiliate your contradicting present.

“What were the words you used to quote to me? ‘Have women so little in ambition as to be satisfied with such a condition? Can they supinely dream life away in the lap of pleasure and render themselves conspicuous by practicing the virtues which signify mankind? Surely she has not an immortal soul who can loiter life away merely employed to adorn her person, that she may amuse the languid hours, and soften the carress of a fellow-creature who is willing to be enlivened by her smiles and tricks, when the serious business of life is over.’ Aren’t you becoming the women she is scathing about?” 

“What’s so wrong with pleasure? Wanting to be taken care of? The want and human need for companionship and love is not one to be jeered at. Might it just even cross your mind that I chose this life instead of ‘building my faculty.’ Those texts described the social conditioning of women back in the eighteen hundreds, women have more options now and are more than capable to choose. Times have changed.” 

“Have they?” Chrollo hummed. “Is the pleasure that you insist on promoting for you, or for him?” He rubbed the silky garment of your dress impassively. “Don’t you wish to be more than a pretty ornament? To have purpose and participate in the natural rights of mankind? ‘Virtue, says reason, must be acquired by rough toils, and useful struggles with worldly cares.’ Sure you are provided with goods and raiment but liberty and virtue are given in exchange. You could build your character by the sense of struggle of living-“

“How can you call that living?!” You exploded abruptly, pausing for a moment to realise that you were shaking all over as you stood in your designer heels before him with glassy eyes. “What we did- to those people, those families, it was never enough for you. I may be what I despised in my youth but I’m better off being an indulgence for others rather than taking account for mass genocide; for what I lack in virtue I make up for my own compassion.”

“How kindly of you,” he nodded absently. “Then perhaps we should test it. Referring back on your comment on Mill’s harm principle, you must know then that the cause of evil not only takes account of a person’s action but also their inaction, and in either case he is justly accountable for the injury.”

“What are you saying?”

“Let’s hypothesise that I would come back on your white wedding day and that I would kill everyone present during the reception, by learning this information, you then would be held responsible for each of their death.” You griped your hand so hard you’re sure that you’ve left specks of bloody crescent moon marks on the palm of your hands. 

“I have no obligation of duty towards you, therefore the harm principle does not apply to me for I am not responsible or related for your actions.” You countered at his allusion to the other-regarding actions where a special role of obligation is placed within the liberty principle.

“No unfortunately you’re not,” he agreed. “But him, would you not protect him at all costs? Surely as your soon to be life long partner you would do whatever it takes to promote his health and well-being. If you would simply come back to me before the day of wedding, denounce your engagement and reinstate your affiliation and loyalty towards the troupe everybody gets their happily ever after.” He finally took a step back. “In failing to meet our obligations to others we are actually harming them.” 

“I’m tired of your philosophical rhapsodies, if you were to kill others or even yourself I would not hold myself accountable so I suggest you’d best return to whatever matters you currently have and leave us alone.” You’ve grown anxious and wary of the dangerous connotation of his words and with the way he was impishly grinning at you suggested that he saw right through your bluff. 

“Its getting late, you should return to your awaiting fiancé before he realises you’ve been gone for too long,” looking back down at the sight of pretty swirls of dresses on the ballroom quietly dwindling down as the night grew longer. “It’s reassuring to see that you haven’t changed at all, I missed our philosophical prattle.” 

“I can hardly say the same, discussing Western philosophers on an engagement party is certainly not in the least enlightening, I suggest you turn to the East for matters such as these.” 

Chrollo gave a half-suppressed laugh and an amused smile, one that was rare and sincere in which held no trace of malice or cruelty. “Before I forget to tell you, you look beautiful.” You didn’t let your hardened expression change when his comment took you by surprise as he slowly backed away from you and into the shadows.

You heard your name being called out by Thomas where he sighed in relief and ran towards you in a light jog before taking you into his arms. “So this is where you’ve been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he playfully chastised with a turn on his lips. He led you back inside the bright chandelier lit hall to bid your guests farewell for the night, however, you couldn’t help but glance back from your shoulders to see that Chrollo had disappeared. 

Though his presence was now absent, his words still rang loudly inside your head. His confrontation of your nature, how the spotlight is too blinding for someone like you and how it’s just a matter of time you would run into the dark once more with your back up against the wall and tangled up in his web seem to be conveyed as a confident prediction rather than insults to your moral character.

Chrollo wasn’t here to steal anything, not even you, he wanted you to come to him on your own accord even if he had to force pieces to make you submit to his will. However, his appearance tonight also wasn’t meant for mere formalities, in fact he made his purpose and intention clear when he first spoke of the day you would finally be wed. 

It was a warning.

[generic-hufflepuff1]

My Tma favorites (per entity per season)

In honor of the finale of Tma, I'm looking back and going through the seasons and picking out my favorite episodes. I'm sorting them by entity and Im gonna write a little piece at the end of each fear as to why I picked that episode.  It is relatively spoiler free but still keep your wits about you.  

Also this is only up to Mag 197

The Stranger

Season 1: 1 Anglerfish tied with 34 Anatomy Class 

Season 2: 77 The Kind Mother

Season 3: 83 Drawing a Blank, with 96 Return to Sender as a close second

Season 4: 128 heavy Goods

Season 5: 182 Well being, but 165 Revolutions is very very good

Overall: 1 Anglerfish

So all the of The Strangers’ episodes are really evocative and well written and I have to say that it was a very, very close call for almost every single season and I still cannot really decide if I truly like Mag 1 more than Mag 34 but I have to say that Mag 1 is so very good at drawing you into the world and works as a stand alone piece.  

The Buried

Season 1: 2 Do Not Open

Season 2: 66 Held In Customs

Season 3: 97 We all Ignore the Pit

Season 4: 132 Entombed

Season 5: 184 Like Ants

Overall: 2 Do Not Open

I love Mag 2 as the protagonist straight up did not have any of this bullshit.  And they even got a mike drop moment with the frozen key.  Like in this house we stan Joshua Gillespie.  His determination to not have to deal with that shit is so incredibly strong that it sticks with you.  

The Web

Season 1: 16 Aracnopobia

Season 2: 69 Thought for the Day

Season 3: 81 A Guest for Mister Spider

Season 4: 136 The Puppeteer 

Season 5: 172 Strung Out

Overall: 81 A Guest for Mister Spider 

Honestly Mag 81 is absolutely brilliant and serves to contextualise so much of season 1 and 2 and ends up being incredibly important to the world as a whole.  That plus the delivery and excellent premise gives it a slight edge over Mag 172 that is a pure exploration of the controlling and manipulative nature of addiction

The Vast

Season 1: 21 Freefall

Season 2: 75 A Long Way Down

Season 3: 91 The Coming Storm

Season 4: 124 Left Hanging

Season 5: 174 The Great Beast

Overall: 174 The Great Beast

So the first half of season 5 does an amazing job of truely fleshing out each fear and the Vast is no exception.  The split between the two protagonists makes it clear that The Vast is not just about big things or empty space but deep existentialism and the fear of the inevitability of life.  

The Spiral

Season 1: 26 A Distortion

Season 2: 74 Fatigue

Season 3: 85 Upon the Stair

Season 4: 126 Sculptors Tool

Season 5: 177 Wonderland, tied with 187 Checking Out

Overall: 187 Checking Out

This one was difficult as Mag 177 and Mag 187 as both of them lingered in my head for literal weeks after listening to them.  In the end Mag 187 was so completely mind boggling in how it completely changed my perception of the Distortion.  And is a masterclass in writing a character twist.  

The End

Season 1: 29 Cheating Death

Season 2: 70 Book of the Dead

Season 3: 94 Dead Woman Walking

Season 4: 155 The Cost of Living

Season 5: 168 Roots

Overall: 168 Roots

I have quite literally experienced some version of what the victims are describing.  But more than that the realisation of the implications of this domain for the world as it elevates the episode much higher than any of the Ends other appearances as eventually the other entities will fear the End just as the mortals do.  

The Flesh

Season 1: 14 Piecemeal

Season 2: 58 Trail Rations

Season 3: 90 Body Builder

Season 4: 131 Flesh

Season 5: 171 The Gardener

Overall: 171 The Gardener

Everything about Mag 171 just speaks to me.  From the visual it conjures, to the brilliant use of botany metaphor to describe various body image issues, to Jared’s simple but weighty request.  This episode lives rent free in my brain at all times.  This is the first time that I have zero contenders for my favorite of an entity.  

The Corruption

Season 1: 32 Hive

Season 2: 68 The Tale of a Field Hospital

Season 3: 102 Nesting Instinct

Season 4: 153 Love Bombing

Season 5: 164 The Sick Village

Overall: 32 Hive

Although Mag 164 does have a very particular place in my heart and in the history of literature due to its topic and the precise time it came out, but it does pale compared to just how brilliant Mag 32 is.   As the first real mention of the entities it reveals just little enough to keep the suspense whilst providing just enough answers that it's obvious in hindsight.  But once more none of that matters in the face of “There is a wasps nest in my attic” the shere delivery of this episode has placed it in many people's favourite lists.  

The Slaughter

Season 1: 7 The Piper

Season 2: 42 Grifter’s Bone

Season 3: 105 Total War

Season 4: 125 Civilian Casualties

Season 5: 163 In the Trenches 

Overall: 42 Grifter’s Bone

Mag 42 is very interesting.  I’ve mentioned in some of my other posts that Im pretty sure that Jonny Sims finds some fears harder to write and the Slaughter is definitely one of them but I’ve only come to this conclusion by looking at how frequently they show up but listening to the show you would never be able to tell and Mag 42 is one brilliant example of this it is a brilliant way to expand on how the Slaughter manifests.  

The Desolation

Season 1: 37 Burnt Offering

Season 2: 67 Burning Desire

Season 3: 89 Twice as Bright

Season 4: 139 Chosen

Season 5: 169 Fire Escape

Overall: 67 Burning Desire

I find Mag 67 so intensely interesting as it leads into one of the major themes of Tma, that love can and will defeat and overpower even the most gripping fear.  The simple love of a simple man sowed just enough doubt to destroy an avatar of destruction.  Tma is filled with similar moments but personally this one is my favourite.  

The Dark

Season 1: 25 Growing Dark

Season 2: 63 The End of the Tunnel

Season 3: 86 Tucked In

Season 4: 143 The Heart of Darkness

Season 5: 173 Night Night

Overall: 173 Night Night

I remember the reaction to Mag 173.  It was so incredibly powerful to watch most of the fanbase (myself included) react in exactly the same way the characters did to the reality of this domain.  First with dawning realisation, then anger followed sudden confusion at where to direct that anger.  It was quite eye opening to say the least.  

The Hunt

Season 1: 10 Vampire Killer, with notable mention to 31 First Hunt

Season 2: 56 Children of the Night

Season 3: 112 Thrill of the Chase

Season 4: 133 Dead Horse

Season 5: 176 Blood Ties

Overall: 112 Thrill of the Chase

I absolutely love Mag 112.  It is such a brilliant idea, and as a result I end up valuing it a bit more than Mag 133 or 10 which are particularly telling for me as it proves that the Hunt is weirdly the fairest of the entities and absolutely condones fighting back and even killing its avatars or that it just cares about the circular nature of the hunt.  

The Eye

Season 1: 23 Schwartzwald

Season 2: 53 Crusader

Season 3: 82 The Eyewitnesses

Season 4: 138 The Architecture of Fear

Season 5: 183 The Monument

Overall: 138 The Architecture of Fear

Oh Smirke.  Poor naive and enlightened Smirke.  I love Mag 138 more than the other Eye related episodes because it is due to this character that we even have a metric through which to observe the world of tma

The Lonely

Season 1: 33 Boatswain’s Call

Season 2: 48 lost in the Crowd

Season 3: 92 Nothing Besides Remains

Season 4: 159 The Last

Season 5: 170 Recollection

Overall: 170 Recollection

Covid lockdown hit me quite hard and I have not seen a single piece of media that captures the feeling of having hours and days drift into each other quite like Mag 170 so along with Mag 164 it has a very strange place in my heart.  

The Extinction

So this one is a bit of a different situation so im gonna simply list my top five in order

175 Epoch

149 Concrete Jungle

65 Binary

157 Rotten Core

156 Reflection

Mag 175 is another example of a statement that my mind will drift to if I leave it alone for too long.  From the vivid visuals to the subtext of the descriptions to the delivery of every line it is easily one of the best episodes of Tma in my personal opinion.