#it's 2 am and i should be asleep by now. but alas

[daz4i]

well it went surprisingly well last time so here's another edition of me posting a short bit from smth i wrote and talking about it instead of posting the whole thing like a normal person. except it's way longer this time sorry

so this is my favorite of all the songs i wrote, called "other people's words"

i think i got down to it after getting a writing exercise from my teacher asking why i don't write about my feelings. it was like a week or two after i finished reading no longer human and feeling painfully Seen by it, and going through the quotes i collected from it i kept thinking "what is even the point of writing anything myself when he already wrote it better than i ever could" and well. yeah

the song also has references to other songs in it, specifically hurt by johnny cash (yeah i know it's a cover but. come on.) and arcade by duncan laurence. really good songs to listen to when Going Through It lol but also they've got 2 things that are. ig concrete and identifiable enough in their lyrics to reference, being empire of dirt and a losing game, which both appear in the chorus

speaking of, it's a different chorus each time bc i can't make things easy for myself ig. the topic of each line remains the same, and in addition to those references there is a talk of baring your soul

so i tried playing off of the baring part in the last chorus that the song ends with

so like. going from bare to barren. idk i liked this one lol maybe it works better in writing than in singing but ig only time will tell

this comes right after the bridge that's talking about emptiness and nothingness (a topic also mentioned in the second verse). this whole theme is, to me, the essence of it really. feeling empty -> nothing to give -> can't create -> relying on things created by others to define yourself by, since otherwise you essentially feel like you're nothing

after this final chorus, the song changes into. sounds, ig. not real words, just "ba-da-dum" sort of thing, and that's how it ends

i mentioned two songs and a novel already but it was inspired by a lot of other songs. the whole baring your soul while feeling like there's nothing there is from beneath the mask, for example. and I'm sure me from 2 months ago had other things in mind while writing that i unfortunately can't remember rn. rip. sorry

but yeah that's it! like i said it's not polished. there are some lines i really like but feel slightly awkward so i don't want to post them, and really a lot of it isn't quite ready but it's still my favorite. i think it's my most... idk, clever song? or maybe just most complex one at least. even tho it's not perfect yet, i am proud of it, or at least as proud as i can be of my own creation. yes i am aware of the irony here :P

[thebiggestmenace]

I am so eepy,,,,,,, the eeper sneeper

[incandescentlysomething]

Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 6

House of the Dragon Season 1

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 4893

She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.

From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Cross posted on A03

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist A03

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

It was nearly noon when Aelinor awoke, the sun peeking through her curtains and disturbing her peace. She had lain awake for several hours after her night with Aemond, unable to think of anything else but him. How he had held her hand, how close they had been to kissing. It seemed almost childish to be thrown out of sorts by something as simple as a kiss, and yet she was unable to push it from her mind. Alas, when she had finally fallen asleep, it had been a deep one.

Someone was pounding on her door. “Aelinor! Mother wants you.”

It was Jace, and he took her answering groan as permission to enter the chamber. “Why are you still asleep?”

“I’m not asleep, am I?” She rolled over, wincing as she stretched her muscles. “What does Mother want?”

Jace poked her foot through the covers. “We need to begin getting ready for the festivities.”

“We?”

“Well, you do. You have to do your hair and…other things.” He looked genuinely baffled, like he couldn’t fathom what kinds of preparations a woman might have to do to get ready for a royal banquet and ball.

Aelinor heaved herself out of bed with a sigh, accepting the heavy dressing gown Jace handed her to cover her nightgown. 

“Is she up yet?” Luc poked his head through the door. “Oh, good morning Aelinor. Or should I say afternoon?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, knotting the dressing gown at the waist.

“Why are you so tired?” Jace asked. 

Aelinor shrugged. “Not used to the bed, I guess.”

“I, for one, found the bed and chambers quite comfortable.” Jace said, moving out of her way as they moved into the corridor. “Far less drafty than Dragonstone.”

She searched for an excuse in her sleep-addled brain, unable to come up with anything believable.

“We stayed up late playing cards,” Luc said. “Aelinor wouldn’t let us go to bed until she beat me.”

She thought her younger brother a grateful look, appreciating that he was covering for her. 

“And did she?” Jace asked, believing the excuse.

“No, she gave up.” Luc laughed.

Aelinor yawned loudly. “You’re both impossible.”

They stepped into the main room of their family’s chambers, and were immediately met by a throng of people. Maids bustled to and fro, unpacking garments from bags, some already set up with needles and thread to make necessary alterations, and others opening boxes of jewels. Aelinor held her dressing gown a little tighter to her body. 

“Aelinor!” Her mother was seated at the small breakfast table, watching two of the maids entertain the small children. “Are you just waking up now?”

“Yes, Mother. I feel rather like the walking dead this morning.”

“Why? Are you ill?” Rhaenyra reached out to touch her daughter’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”

She shook her head. “I just stayed up too late.”

“Losing at cards.” Jace teased. 

Rhaenyra smiled, squeezing Aelinor’s hand. “As long as you’re well. Did you have a good evening, card games aside?”

Aelinor hated lying to her mother. Part of her just wanted to tell her the truth, admit where she had been and who she was with. Her mother had always humored her more rebellious side, and likely wouldn’t be as furious as she was imagining. Not to mention, things would be infinitely worse if her mother found out from whoever had been spying on them in the library.

But still Aelinor was not able to admit everything. “I had a good evening. It’s nice to be back.”

“It is.” Rhaenyra agreed. “Now, we must begin getting you ready. Starting with that hair.” She teasingly pulled on a string of Aelinor’s tangled mane. She had gone to sleep without braiding it, and it was looking quite unkempt.

A maid was waved over, and Aelinor dropped into the seat opposite her mother, reaching for a half-empty plate of biscuits. She chewed slowly as the maid ran a brush through her hair, combatting the tangles one by one.

“The fashion seems to be to wear one’s hair up now,” She said absently. “Perhaps with some braiding throughout?”

Rhaenyra gave her a small smile. “I think it’s best that you wear your hair down, darling.”

“Why?” Aelinor couldn’t see how dancing all evening, getting all sweaty and letting the scent of smoke and cooked meats seep into her hair, could possibly be a good thing.

But then she saw her mother’s eyes dart toward the couch, where Jace was polishing a spot off one of his boots, and she understood. In this fight for her brother’s legitimacy, she was her mother’s best weapon, and her hair was the most obvious way to wield it.

“Unbraided, then.” She acquiesced.

Rhaenyra nodded. “Oh, but we have a circlet for you, darling. You will look beautiful.”

Aelinor offered her mother a sincere smile. It had been years since they had had the opportunity to prepare for an event of this size, and it reminded her of far simpler times. 

“I assume you have a dress for me, as well. Can I see it?” She winced as the maid yanked on a stubborn knot behind her ear.

Rhaenyra grinned. “Even better, I have three. We shall have to try them on to see which suits best.”

“Good gods,” Lucerys threw his head back in complaint.

“And you boys shall remain here,” Rhaenyra said quickly. “To help your sister choose.”

Jace glared at his brother. “Is Driftmark worth this, Brother?”

*********************************************************

Aemond was called to his mother’s chambers only an hour before the ball. He had been awake with the dawn, throwing himself into training bouts to while away the time and distract his mind. The night with Aelinor had been more than he had ever dreamed of, and waking up just to remember that she was betrothed to Jacaerys of all people, and that he would have to attend this cursed ball in the evening was enough to drive him into a fury.

None of the visiting nobles were willing to spend the morning on the training grounds, and so he grabbed several young squires and put them through their paces while he worked through his rage. Afterwards, he had returned to his chambers to bathe and dress. The small box inside his writing desk just made him think of Aelinor, and so he had spent more time pacing the halls until Ser Criston came to summon him.

When he arrived at his mother’s chambers, he found it deathly quiet. His brother was reclined on the sofa, head thrown back and eyes closed. Helaena sat quietly at his side, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. His mother stood in front of the window, her fingers playing with the Star of the Seven that hung at her throat, worry lines creasing her face. 

“Aemond,” she barely glanced his way when he walked in. “Where have you been?”

“Training,” He answered. 

“Don’t you look nice,” Aegon slowly rolled his head to the side, eyes lazily scanning him from head to toe. “Did you oil your hair?”

Aemond resisted the urge to smooth his hair. He had, in fact, run some oil through it before pulling it back in his usual style. It was more effort than he would usually put it for a court function, but he had found himself overly concerned with preparing for this event. Even his clothing — a relatively simple green and black tunic and matching trousers — had been freshly washed and pressed. 

“Anyone in particular you might be doing that for?” Aegon prodded.

Aemond stiffened. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

His mother dropped her hands, turning to stare at him. “Aemond, you cannot be serious. We spoke of Aelinor. She is not your friend.”

No, she was far more than a friend to Aemond, though he couldn’t blame his mother for trying to lessen it. He didn’t reply, just placed both hands behind his back and waited expectantly.

Alicent walked toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Aemond, she is betrothed. Rhaenyra has betrothed her to Jacaerys. Everyone knows it, and it has only to be formally announced. You must distance yourself before you are made a fool of.”

He already was a fool. There was no way he could distance himself, not now. And though each reminder that she was promised to Jace felt like a stab in the gut, he kept his face passive. “And what if she does not wish to marry Jacaerys?”

Alicent shook her head in exasperation. “And who would she marry, Aemond? You? Her mother would never tie her family to ours, and we must not tie ourselves to her’s.”

“Aren’t they our family?” Helaena spoke up suddenly, surprising all of them. 

Alicent barely spared a glance to her daughter. “The only family we must concern ourselves with are those who live righteously, who honor the gods and the Seven Kingdoms with their actions. Us.”

Aemond bit his tongue. He did not disagree with his mother’s sentiment toward the Princess Rhaenyra, and her sons. They were bastards, and Rhaenyra, though she had been kind to him when he was young, had stood by Lucerys even when he cut out Aemond’s eye. Had not punished the boys when Aelinor was permanently maimed by a fire. He had no love for any of them.

He just considered Aelinor to be something different.

Aegon groaned loudly. “Can we just go? I don’t give a shit which bastards are marrying which whores, and—”

“What did you say?” Aemond demanded, crossing the room in a second. Aegon flinched back, pinned between the couch and his wife. Aemond itched to strike him, his hand curling into a fist.

“Aegon, that talk is beneath you.” Alicent said, though she did not correct it. “And Aemond, leave your brother be. The fool is drunk.”

Aemond sneered in disgust, able to smell the reek of ale off of his brother. His mother was right, Aegon was a fool.”

“The banquet will begin shortly,” Alicent said. “We must be there to receive the guests. And we are all expected to attend, and remain there, for the duration of the evening.”

From her tone, it was clear that there was nothing she wanted to do less than spend a night in revelry and celebration over the return of Princess Rhaenyra.

With exaggerated groans, Aegon peeled himself off the couch, stumbling out the door without waiting for his wife, who trailed meekly after him. Alicent caught Aemond’s arm before he could follow.

“I mean it, Aemond.” Alicent said quietly. “Remember who you are, and who she is.”

“I will, Mother.” He hesitated as he studied her face. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles, and her complexion appeared more sallow than usual. “You don’t look well, Mother. Is there something wrong?”

She sighed, giving his shoulder a quick pat. “I did not sleep well. Your father…he was restless all night.”

How many years had it been, that Aemond watched his mother slowly waste away as she cared for his father, as she tried to hold the Kingdoms together? For the King to have an ill night was the last thing she needed, especially with their visitors and all the activity to come in the next few days.

He gave a curt nod. “Then I shall be on my best behavior. And I shall endeavor to keep Aegon contained as well.”

************************************************************

The banquet was in full swing by the time Aelinor made her way to the hall. The dress they had chosen had required a few alterations to fit, and so she had told her family to go on ahead. Now she was regretting that choice, as it meant she would be entering the room by herself, instead of as part of her mother’s house.

Perhaps she could sneak in. It was always possible that, if the festivities had begun in earnest, she might sneak through the doors and find her way to her mother’s side without anyone noticing her. But alas, when she rounded the corner, the doors to the hall were shut firmly, two guards stationed on either side.

Muttering a curse under her breath, she slowed to a walk, barely managing to compose herself before the doors were being heaved open and a loud voice was proclaiming “The Princess Aelinor Velaryon!”

Three hundred faces stopped to stare at her, and she found it a little hard to breathe. Stepping through the door, she tried to scan the crowd for a familiar face. There, seated at the front of the hall next to an empty seat, was Queen Alicent, with Lord Otto Hightower at her side. Neither of their expressions were particularly welcoming. She could not see her mother, not among the dozens of people paused on the floor, clearly having been in the middle of a dance, nor could she see her or any of her brothers at the long tables that framed the room. She was on her own.

With a deep breath, she clasped her skirt in both hands, the black silk of her skirt crumbling beneath her fingers as she dipped into a small curtsy. Enough to show respect for the Queen, but not so much as would be owed to the King. She rose without wobbling, and then descended the steps as quickly as she could manage. There seemed to be an awkward pause, before she heard the sharp note of a fiddle and the musicians resumed.

Keeping to the edge, she tried to pick her way past the dancers as she searched for her family. Everywhere she turned a noble she did not recognize was offering a bow or a curtsy, usually with a quietly murmured “Princess”. She returned their greetings, but did not linger. Only hours ago she had been excited for the ball, for her chance to attend for the first time. How many times as a child had she hidden up in the rafters with Aemond, dreaming of joining the dancers down below? She glanced up, wondering if there were any young faces doing the same as she had once. But not it seemed only to be a crush of unfamiliar figures, and she longed for a spot of quiet. 

“Princess Aelinor,” Someone stepped into her path. He was a small, spindly man with a cane at his side, and an unsettling smirk on his face. “You have much changed.”

His fingers twitched out, nearly catching the crimson chiffon of her sleeve. She took a step back, but was pressed against another stranger, this one ensconced in a conversation and unaware of how he was entrapping the princess.

“Forgive me, Sir.” Aelinor cleared her throat. “But have we met?”

“When you were very small, Princess.” He tilted his head. “And as I said, you have grown much.”

She did not like this man. “Might I have your name, Sir. I don’t—”

“Lina!” She could have wept to hear Aemond’s voice at her side. He emerged from the center of the dance floor, pushing through a dancing pair and coming to stand at her side. “I have been looking for you.”

“I’ve only just arrived. I was speaking to…” She turned around, only to find that the spidery man had vanished back into the crowd. “How odd.”

“Was someone bothering you?”

“No, it was only strange.” She tried to shake the interaction from her mind. “My, don’t you look every bit the handsome prince.”

Aemond shrugged, uncomfortable with the compliment. But it was the truth. Aelinor could not recall ever seeing him look so fine. His tunic was embroidered with gold thread, the rich green so dark that it was nearly black. His silver hair was smoothed back, falling over his wide shoulders.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked.

Aelinor glanced around, well aware that every person around them was only pretending not to eavesdrop. “I just arrived. I have not even—”

“Little Aelinor!” A hand landed on the small of her back. “I knew I would find you here.”

“Uncle.” She greeted Aegon with a polite curtsy, resisting the urge to shuffle away from his touch. “I trust you are well?”

His eyes drooped slightly as he appraised her. “All the better for seeing you.”

“Brother, I—” Aemond tried to cut in.

“Darling Niece,” Aegon continued. “Care to dance?”

There was no polite way to refuse an offer from a prince, especially not when it had been made so publicly.

“Of course, Uncle.” She set her good hand in his, shooting Aemond a look of apology. “Perhaps I shall see you later?”

“Oh, I’m certain he will make sure of it.” Aegon tugged her away, leading her right to the center of the floor.

Aelinor could feel the eyes following her as Aegon stopped them in the center of the floor, assuming the position for a quick four step, a dance she knew quite well. When she glanced to the side, she saw the Queen standing from her seat, disappearing into the crowd just as the musicians struck up a new song.

This particular dance was quite easy, involving two partners who moved around each other in a circle, occasionally clasping hands or jumping. It was ideal for chatting with a suitor, but unfortunately, Aelinor had no interest in chatting with Aemond, not when she could smell drink on his breath.

Aegon, for his part, did not seem overly interested in conversing. He moved through the steps lazily, clearly too drunk to execute them gracefully, but also too familiar to make a complete mockery of himself. Twenty couples moved around them, all of them completely silent, waiting to catch wind of what Prince Aegon and her might be discussing.

“How is Helaena?” Aelinor began, remembering her mother’s request to behave as if nothing was wrong. “I have not yet had the chance to speak with her.”

Aegon shrugged. “I’ve not seen her tonight.”

“No?” Aelinor frowned, before plastering a smile back on her face. “Well, then. Your children, how are they?”

“I have three of them.” Aegon said, clearly not overwhelmed with fatherly affection.

Aelinor tried to drum up some sympathy for her uncle. As long as she had known him, he had never thrived in the spotlight, nor had he been enthusiastic about wedding Helaena. But as someone who had never been drawn to the drink, Aelinor could not quite bring herself to forgive his inebriation.

“My brother,” Aegon drawled. “Seems unable to keep his eye off of you.”

Aelinor ignored the jibe. “I’m sure he’s just observing the dancing.”

“Or he’s fueling his obsession with you,” Aegon leaned forward conspiratorially. “Tell me, Niece. What do you see in my brother?”

His hands had curled almost painfully into her waist. The music ended and Aelinor snapped back, putting space between them. 

“For one thing,” She hissed. “He’s not a drunken lech.”

Bobbing a curtsy, she left him on the floor. Unfortunately, she did not see Aemond in the crowd. Intending to resume the search for her mother, she moved toward the front of the room, only to nearly walk directly into the Queen.

“Your Majesty,” She curtsied, feeling like she had spent most of the evening bobbing up and down. “Forgive me, I did not see you there.”

Alicent held both hands in front of her, her red hair shining against the emerald of her gown. “Aelinor. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Aelinor nodded gratefully. She would not pretend that she had ever been friendly with Alicent, but the Queen had always been kind to her as a child.

“Did you enjoy your dance?” Alicent asked.

“I did,” Aelinor said too quickly. “It was…nice to see Aegon again.”

“Hm,” Alicent looked like she did not believe her. “Well, I’m glad. I think you’ll find it difficult to source another partner.”

“Your…your Majesty?”

Alicent leaned forward. “You look beautiful, Aelinor. But no one wishes to dance with a cripple.”

Aelinor recoiled, her mouth falling open as the Queen walked away. That was…that had been cruel. Overcome with shame, Aelinor adjusted her long sleeve so that it fell over her injured hand. She knew her hand unsettled people, but it did not make her a cripple. And she would never have expected something so malicious to come out of the Queen’s mouth.

“Aelinor! Are you alright?”

The crowd this evening just seemed to keep throwing conversations her way. Thankfully, this time it was Aemond, who placed one hand on her elbow. 

“Aemond,” She said quietly.

“Was that my mother?” He asked. “Are you alright, you look pale.”

Aelinor shook her head. “I’m quite alright.”

“Would you care to dance with me?” He asked, looking a bit nervous. “If you…if you would like to.”

Aelinor glanced up at him. “I would love to, Aemond, But I should really find my family. I promised Jace a dance and I—”

Aemond frowned, and she remembered how he did not like to be reminded of her near-betrothal to Jace. 

Two courtiers moved past, whispering as they did. Aelinor hid her hand further in her sleeve, the Queen’s jibe stinging sharply through her veins. “I can find them later. Let us dance.”

Aemond smiled, and she thought she heard someone nearby gasp as he took her hand and led her back to the floor. They took up a spot on the edge, and Aemond grasped her waist with one hand as the musicians began. This was a slower set, allowing them to whirl between other couples in time with the music. Aelinor was a bit lost in her thoughts, her mind swirling with the music and her conversation with the Queen.

“You’re hiding your hand,” Aemond whispered. “Why?”

“What?” Aelinor looked up. He was so much taller than her, so much that she had to tilt her head back to see his face.”Oh, I just…it looks better this way.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to care very much how it looks.” Aemond said. “After all, you are—”

The music stopped suddenly, and Aelinor spun a few more steps before they stopped. The guests were all turning to the dias, where Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys, and their children stood in a neat line. 

Aelinor tilted her head. “What are they doing?”

Queen Alicent was standing at the foot of the dias, her eyes wide as she stared up at the princess. It took only a few moments for the hall to fall completely silent, all eyes on Rhaenyra.

“We are grateful to everyone for being here today,” Rhaenyra said. “It has been wonderful to see so many familiar faces.”

The crowd murmured in approval. 

“I think she’s just thanking the court,” Aelinor whispered, conscious of how Aemond’s hand still lingered at her back.

“And,” Rhaenyra continued. “I would like to take this opportunity to impart on the court an announcement that is sure to bring great happiness to us all.”

Jace stepped up to his mother’s side, and Aelinor felt her blood run cold. This was it. They were about to announce it to everyone, and then her fate would be sealed. She felt a few eyes turning her way, the rumor mill no doubt assuring that most courtiers could predict what this announcement may be.

“It gives me great job to announce the betrothal of my son Prince Jacaerys—”

Oh gods, here it was.

“And my son Prince Lucerys to the Princesses Baela and Rhaena. This joining of two great Valyrian houses will no doubt be a triumph for the realm.”

A thousand emotions flooded Aelinor, the foremost of them being shock. Jacaerys was betrothed to Baela? What did this mean? Her mother had never wavered in her intention to betrothe her two eldest children, and yet…she had just changed her mind before the entire court. 

Jace held out a hand to Baela, both of them beaming as they descended to the floor for a dance.

Queen Alicent climbed the steps quickly, speaking in hushed tones to Rhaenyra as the room slowly resumed the party. Things made a bit more sense to Aelinor, then. The trial addressing Luc’s succession would take place the following day, and Rhaenyra had just assured that the Velaryons would support his claim. It would now be Vaemond standing against his own family, almost certainly guaranteeing them success.

But people were whispering, casting looks her way as they moved through the room. The dancing began anew, and yet she just stood there, Aemond by her side, trying to process what was happening.

“Cast aside—”

“The bastards are—”

“...betrothed to a cripple…”

It was all too much, and Aelinor turned quickly and rushed from the room. She shoved through the crowd, around one of the tables and out through one of the servant doors. She was barely aware of someone following until she felt Aemond’s hand on her arm.

“Lina, are you—”

A servant moved past, carrying a tray of sweetmeats, and he gave the Princess a concerned look.

Aemond turned to him and roared. “OUT! Now!”

******************************************************

The evening had not taken the turn that Aemond had expected. He had expected to endure a night of endless political preening, perhaps stealing a dance with Aelinor or his sister, and now he was huddled in a servants’ corridor, while Aelinor hid in the corner.

“I’m sorry,” she held a hand to her mouth. “I just….everyone was talking and I…I just couldn’t…”

“Take all the time you need,” Aemond assured her. “No one will bother you.”

In truth, he was seething inside. For a split second, he had been overjoyed. To know that Aelinor would not be marrying Jacaerys…if he were devout it would have been something he prayed for. But then he had watched the bastard lead his new betrothed into a dance, and he had seen how Aelinor’s face had fallen.

That bastard had cast her aside, her entire family had opened her up to scorn. As if the bastard even deserved Aelinor at all. No, he deserved nothing, but Aelinor certainly did not deserve to be publicly rejected in front of the court like that. 

Aelinor was shaking her head. “Gods, she could have told me.”

“You did not deserve that,” Aemond hissed. “For him to gloat and—”

She held up a hand. “He was not gloating. He and Baela are well suited, and I am happy for them.”

She was too kind. Too generous. She would forgive them, she always would, just as she had forgiven them when they maimed her as a child. This was what happened when he wasn’t by her side, she was coerced into accepting this treatment from them, when she deserved far better.

“Perhaps I’ll get to go back to Dragonstone in peace,” She gave a small smile. 

“You cannot allow—”

“Did you want me to marry Jace? Is that it?” She demanded. “Because after last night, I rather thought that you…that we…”

“That we were what?” Aemond stepped forward until her back was against the wall.

Aelinor sighed. “I don’t know, Aemond. Tonight has been overwhelming, and there are so many people here who I do not know. I just need to go back to Dragonstone, to people who understand me, and it will—”

Aemond reached up and ripped off his eye patch. “I understand you!”

Her lips parted as she stared up at him, at the blue gem that flickered in the torch light. Aemond’s chest was heaving with some kind of craze, and he knew he should step back. He had to, before he did something that both of them regretted. But nothing in him was strong enough to move away from her.

Slowly she lifted her injured hand, silk sleeves falling away as she let her fingertips trace the edges of his scar, inching closer to his eye.

“That’s my sapphire,” She breathed. “You…you actually did it.”

“Of course I did,” He lifted his hand to grasp hers. “How could you think that I don’t understand you?”

“I…that is not what I meant.” She whispered.

“I know,” He nodded. “And…I don’t mean to force your hand. You deserve better than your brother, and I won’t pretend that I am a better option. I only wanted you to see that I…that I have always…”

“Aemond…” She leaned closer.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Aemond wrenched himself away just as a servant came through carrying pitchers of wine. They waited until the servant had passed into the ballroom before speaking again.

“Thank you, Aemond.” Aelinor said, kneeling to the ground to pick up his eye patch. “Thank you for always being there.”

He couldn’t find the strength to speak as he took the eyepatch from her. Sighing, Aelinor stepped past, “And Aemond?”

“Yes?”

She gave him a small smile. “I do not think you should have to hide, either.”

Aemond watched her disappear through the door before retying his eye patch, making sure to cover his eye entirely. When he stepped back into the room, he saw Aelinor making her way toward her mother, but his eye sought out another.

On the dance floor, Jacaerys spun Baela in what must be their second or third dance. Aemond felt his blood boil. Aelinor might be willing to forgive, but he was not so generous.

Before the night was out, the bastard would answer to him.

[hydrangeapartridge]

Title: Mind Body and Soul

Pairing: Mage!Shinsou x reader

I wrote for Shinsou again! Link to AO3 here

Summary: Once upon a time there was you: a nobody, a refugee from a country devastated by Dabi’s undead army, serving as a maid in king Todoroki’s castle. There, fate decided you would cross path with the mysterious and dreaded court mage Hitoshi Shinsou. Little did you know that particular encounter would change your life forever.

Rating: M

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy - Romance - teacher student relationship if you squint but no age gap - AFAB reader - ritual with mildly dubious consent - Strangers to Lovers

Chapter 2: The Djinn (under the cut!) - (link to chapter 1)

After he pointed at you with that weird purple light, mage Shinsou ordered you to show up at his office after sunrise to begin your training, or else he would come find you himself.

During the walk back to your quarters, you kept replaying the events of the night in your head. Images of the monstrous creature that almost killed you kept flashing before your eyes as you tried to find sleep in your bunk. The light snoring of the other servants and fear of what could lurk in the dark kept you awake until the crack of dawn. Only then did you manage to fall asleep, just when the first occupants of the dorm were starting to rise.

You were not so gently shaken awake shortly after by the head of the staff, an old matron who you were sure had a stone for a heart.

After a quick breakfast, you reluctantly made your way towards the mage’s tower. You hoped during the whole staircase’ ascension that what happened the previous evening was just a dream, and that mage Shinsou would dismiss you, and tell you to go back to your cleaning.

However, things didn’t go as you wished, and when you knocked on the mage’s door, he hurriedly let you in. Shinsou had opened the door so quickly that it made you wonder if he had been waiting behind it for you to arrive.

“I am glad to see that you came of your own will. I do not like to meddle with the castle’s occupants. Especially so early in the morning” He told you.

The dark shadows under your eyes from the lack of sleep, couldn’t compete with Shinsou’s dark circled eyes. He looked like he had even less sleep than you did. Still, he actively fluttered around his office to make space for you to sit. He started carelessly pushing papers and parchments away from one of the tables, letting them fall in a messy heap on the floor.

“Hmm. Are you sure taking me as an apprentice is a good idea?” You had rehearsed a speech during your ascension of the tower, hoping to convince the castle’s mage that you weren’t suited to be a mage. “I’m sure I’ll be wasting your time. I’m probably very bad at magic. Plus, now that you did the ritual, the Djinn can’t harm me right? So maybe I should go back to being a servant, it would probably be easier for both you and me”

“Nonsense” Shinsou simply replied flatly as he placed a wooden chair in front of the table he just cleaned up. “All mages must be trained”

He turned to you, “Firstly, people with magical abilities are so rare that it would be waste of potential not to train one. Secondly, an untrained mage is an easy target for wandering spirits so if you value your soul, I suggest you accept your fate and the training I offer” He smirked. “You’re a bit old for an apprentice, but it is never too late to learn.”

You flushed when he commented on your age. You were admittedly becoming a little old for marriage, but you weren’t <i>that</i> old. He was probably not much older than you were too.

“But-” You tried to protest, alas, Shinsou cut you short.

“Sit” He calmly but firmly instructed. His purple stare on you was intense, almost scary, and you felt the urge to obediently sit down at the makeshift desk.

Once you were seated, Shinsou pointed to the crystal that targeted you with its light the previous day. “Yesterday you seemed to see this crystal for the first time”

You nodded, and Shinsou hummed.

“It detects mages” He explained “Every child under ten is supposed to take the test at least once. By Royal law” The mage’s piercing gaze fell on you and you tensed. “How come you weren’t submitted to that test?”

He placed a hand against the back of your chair, and the conversation started feeling like an interrogation.

The urge to avoid the question and snap back at him for doubting you was strong. You had no clue you were a mage before, and you weren’t sure you appreciated this sudden change in your life. You reined back your temper just before a biting retort escaped you. Your mother often advised you to think before you spoke, and so you did. The country was at war, and spies were common and hunted. In truth, you had nothing to hide, and so you decided that complying and answering the castle’s mage questions was probably in your best interest. You didn’t know the extent of his powers, but given his reputation, maybe he had a way of knowing if you lied. And he could also be an adept of torture.

“I’m not from this country. I’m a refugee from a neighbour country” You confessed, your voice low as you remembered the atrocities you witnessed when your homeland fell under the power of the undead army. “I crossed the border when I was a lot older than ten. Hence, I wasn’t submitted to the test you speak of”

Shinsou’s eyes bore into yours, and he tilted his head, his brows furrowing in concentration. Maybe he really was able to tell truth from lies.

“I see” He blinked, and you found yourself able to look away from his mesmerizing gaze. “Thank you for your honesty. I shall suggest to the king that they test refugees too then. We need to gather all the help available to fight Dabi and his undead army. Or else our country will end up like yours”

Your throat felt tight. The last thing you wanted was to relieve the invasion of your home by the undead. If you could fight to prevent it, then you were glad to be blessed with the power to do so. You simply hoped you could become useful before they would strike. Before it would be too late.

“You say that you need more mages, yet you are the only one in the whole castle?” You remarked, curious. Something didn’t add up between his speech and reality.

“Very observant of you” Shinsou mocked, but you couldn’t tell if he was being sardonic or bitter. “The King doesn’t like mages much. He prefers to trust in the power of powder and steel.”

You knew the king’s army to be very powerful, with a guard captain strong as a hundred men; as scary as he was beautiful, leading thousands of well-trained soldiers. The King’s difficult relationship with mages was no secret; long ago, an evil mage cursed his wife with a spell so powerful that no healer could ever dream to even alleviate it. The queen was supposedly still alive, but hidden in a secret place somewhere in the castle, where only her family, and healers, working day and night to find a cure, could find her.

“But he trusts you?” You replied, curious as to why the king would keep Shinsou and only him by his side. What abilities did he have that were so special? The thought never occurred to you before, when you were contempt with your mundane life of cleaning.

But now that a whole new world opened itself to you, you felt as if your newfound curiosity was unquenchable.

Shinsou turned his back to you, moving to a shelf where he started collecting a pile of large books. “Enough chattering now. We waisted enough time”

You wanted to argue that he started with the questions, but were interrupted when he dropped a large pile of at least five books on the table before you.

“Since you’re older, we must start with magical theory. Practising is too dangerous for now. Your powers could go berserk. You almost got killed once; I don’t want any other accident” He blankly commented, making you feel like a walking disaster.

“I would have been fine if not for your deadly magical stuff carelessly lying around!” You retorted, clicking your tongue in annoyance.

“Do you know how to read?”

The fact that Shinsou didn’t bother with a reply to your accusation annoyed you so very much.

“Of course I can read” You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn’t mention that said reading wasn’t that good, too proud to admit it.

“Good” Shinsou said, unbothered. “Start reading then. There’s paper and ink if you wish to take notes” He pointed to the supplies on his messy desk. “I’ll request an audience with the king to officially introduce you as my apprentice”

Shinsou left then, leaving you alone to read in the gloomy atmosphere of his office.

He was dead set on taking you as his apprentice, and you were admittedly curious to learn more about magic. You wondered what you could achieve if you worked hard? Shape the hardest stone with your bare hands? Create a fire so strong it would light up the night, keeping people warm, and making them able to see as if in broad daylight?

There was no getting out of it it seemed. But you were starting to get used to the idea of becoming a mage.

- - -

When Shinsou came back, the sun was starting to set. You didn’t noticed how time flew by, too engrossed in your reading. You were happy to tell him that you finished the first book. It was a prowess that you were proud of, for you were sure you never read so many words in one sitting. You were hungry, and exhausted, the signs of a starting migraine making your eyes and skull hurt, but you were satisfied with how you stayed focused for so long.

That was until Shinsou crushed your spirits with one sentence.

“I hoped you would have read the whole five books in a day”

Your shoulders slumped and you gave Shinsou what was probably the most honestly disappointed look ever. But the mage stayed imperturbable, his bored gaze not meeting yours, instead looking at your notes.

“You have a very messy handwriting” He observed and you felt your disappointment turn into anger.

Did that man not understand that you had never been one to study. That you always worked with your hands and never much with your brain. You rather obediently accepted the change of life Shinsou imposed on you, and considering all this, you expected him to be a more lenient teacher. But it looked like it was too much to ask of him.

“Maybe if you explained things to me like proper teachers do I would learn faster” You spat out, arms defensively crossing over your chest.

Shinsou was unperturbed by your attack, but he turned his attention to you. “What did you gather from what you read? Where does magic come from?”

You noticed he made a habit of answering questions with another question. A clever technique to redirected his interlocutor’s attention and avoid answering when he didn’t want to. You let it slide this time, eager to show him that despite your slow reading, you did learn a thing or two.

“It comes from Spirits”

A small smirk graced Shinsou’s thin lips. “Not so bad”

His praise was short lived however. “Well, with how slowly you read it’s the least of things that you remember something that simple”

Before you could give him a piece of your mind and tell him where he could shove his comment, he started explaining more synthetically what you gathered from the book. Too curious to learn, you kept your mouth shut for now.

Shinsou reminded you that there were spirits for everything, everywhere. Simpler ones like water, air, fire or earth, and more complex ones like those of plants or animals. He confirmed what you understood from your reading: that the body, the soul and the mind were spirits too, linked together and inseparable.

“And how do we do magic?” He suddenly asked you.

You took a moment to think about it and summed up the information you learnt during the day.

“I’m not quite sure” You admitted. “But I think we order the spirits to do things?”

The apprehension gripping your stomach disappeared when Shinsou nodded, satisfied with your answer. The more you learnt about magic, the more you wanted to know. You surprised yourself fearing that Shinsou would stop teaching you if you proved to be too bad at learning magic. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you were dumb. Plus, reading was less exhausting than cleaning.

“Something like that” The mage approved. “We give them energy only mages have: mana. Fuelled with that mana, the spirits can grant our requests. You can see it as a form of negotiation more than giving orders. Some spirits can be unpredictable, and might not interpret your request the way you intend them to”

That was probably why the chapters about ordering spirits felt so complicated and abstract to you. Magic wasn’t an easy science.

Shinsou probably noticed your perplexity and gave a few examples to illustrate his point.

“Different spirits have different behaviours and reactions. Almost like personalities. Water spirits for example are supple and calm, easy to model. Fire is wild and wants to eat everything. Wind is the most unpredictable, while Earth is grounded, stubborn and hard to move”

You slowly nodded your head, procession the information. You were captivated by Shinsou’s explanation. There was something in his voice that was urging you to listen to it. A smooth calmness that seemed to lure you in, dulling all senses and forcing you to focus on his words only. He was precise and clear in his explanations, and you had to wonder why he had no apprentice. He sounded like a good teacher. Demanding but good.

“A well trained mage can learn to see the spirits and can also take energy from those spirits”

The more he explained, the more complicated everything sounded. Spirits needed Mana to do magic but they could also give mana to the mage? You were starting to feel a bit lost.

“That Djinn for example, why could I see it? Isn’t it a spirit? Is it because it was very strong?” You asked, interrupting him when you started feeling too overwhelmed.

Shinsou accepted to be interrupted, and indulged your curiosity “Yes, Djinns are spirits, but spirits from the Otherworld, another plane of existence parallel to our world where everything is immaterial. There, everything is bathed in never-ending mana.”

That one answer only filled you with dozen more questions. Parallel worlds? That concept alone made you dizzy. You never though there could be worlds other than you own. The thought that this <i>‘Otherworld’</i> could be the home of even scarier monsters than that Djinn sent a shiver running down your spine. You almost wished you didn’t ask about it.

“The Djinn from yesterday was materialized in our plane. It was summoned with mana; with enough energy to give it a form in our world. To give it a body if you prefer, hence why anybody could see it.” Shinsou continued his explanation, unaware of the unease it brought you. “But only a mage could free it from the crystal ball where I sealed it. That’s how I noticed you were probably gifted”

Shinsou’s piercing amethyst eyes zoned in on you, and you felt colour rise to your cheeks remembering your mistake, and the ritual he had to make to protect you.

“Why would one want to bring such a dangerous creature to our world?” You asked, and Shinsou smirked.

“Curious aren’t you? It’s a good quality for a mage. And a dangerous one too” He commented, making your cheeks heat up. “If a mage bonds with a Djinn, the creature will grant all their wishes”

You looked at him flabbergasted. “That sounds like something every mage would want to do!”

Shinsou chuckled. “Indeed. But one thing you need to know with magic is that everything comes with a price, and the higher the favour, the higher the price.”

The mage leaned back against his desk, his arms crossing over his chest. “Djinns are powerful spirits, very mischievous, bordering evil. They cannot be trusted, and a bonded mage has to be extra careful of what he wishes for”

“Why is that?” You asked, leaning forward in your chair, eager to know more.

“The bonding is a form of enslavement and the bonded Djinn will seek freedom. Freedom is obtained if the mage severs the bond, or if it is forcefully severed”

“Forcefully?” You echoed, not understanding what he meant.

Shinsou looked you dead in the eyes. “By the mage dying”

You gulped, suspended to the words coming from your teacher’s lips as he started retelling the misfortunes of mages who bonded with Djinns. One of them who asked to be rich ended up crushed under a huge pile of gold. Another teleported so high in sky that his fall ended up fatal, after he wished to escape the burning tower where he was trapped.

“That’s horrible” You said, your face paling more and more with each story. Magic was more dangerous than you expected.

“Creatures of the Otherworld shouldn’t be trusted” Shinsou seriously warned you. “And as powerful as they are, no-one is above all the laws and mysteries of nature and the world. Despite granting wishes, Djinns are not all mighty. For example, they cannot revive someone who is dead. They would rise their bodies; merely an empty envelope with no trace left of who the person was before. They cannot link body mind and soul. No-one can”

Your hands were trembling now. Why would Shinsou keep such a dangerous creature around? You still didn’t get it. He never answered that question. “What you’re talking about. Rising the dead. That’s necromancy right? It’s forbidden. Worthy of death penalty” You grimly said.

A mysterious smile graced Shinsou’s lips, not reaching his suddenly cold eyes. “I see you learnt the rules of our country well too. Mages tend to feel superior to their non mage counterparts. They are easily tempted to bend the rules imposed to them.” Shinsou moved away from the desk and stepped in front of you. His presence towering over you felt intimidating. “Take this lesson as a warning. By becoming a mage you will become capable of creating what some would consider miracles with a snap of your fingers. But we are no gods. And we shouldn’t play gods.”

He leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Unless you want to meet a terrible end. Know that there are fates worse than death. Like for example losing one’s soul”

That explained why he was so inclined to protect you from that Djinn who coveted your soul. If he were to teach you skills that could get you killed if you were careless, Shinsou did well to warn you of the dangers first. As any teacher should.

“Do you understand?” He asked, very seriously, his eyes not leaving yours, like he was seeking the answer deep into your soul.

Having seen what spirits of the Otherworld were capable of, you took his warning very seriously. You nodded your head. “I understand”

Shinsou stepped back, satisfied. “Good girl” He praised, and you felt your ears turn red. How could he be so captivating and so unnerving at the same time? Maybe it was a mage thing.

“You did well today. You earned a little reward” Shinsou’s words made you feel agitated, suddenly very fidgety on your chair as he opened one of the drawers from his desk. He fetched something from it, a small object that fitted in the palm of his hand.

He carefully pinched the object between his thumb and pointer finger, presenting it to you. The object looked like a regular monocle except that the lenses were a dark shade instead of crystal clear, almost tinted black.

“Those lenses allow anyone to see spirits” He said before holding the monocle out for you to take, a secretive grin turning up the corner of his lips. “Care to see those spirits you read about with your own eyes?”

Despite your excitement at the prospect of finally getting to see those spirits for yourself, you were careful in retrieving the magical artefact from Shinsou’s long fingers.

“You will probably be surprised at the number of spirits surrounding us. I would advise you focus on something specific. For example, the glass of water on the desk”

Under his watchful gaze, you placed the monocle in front of your right eye and closed your left one. You were very surprised to see the world you were used to navigate shaped in shades of grey, serving as a background above which a myriad of sparkling shapes and forms danced in a blurry display. The spirits were everywhere, shining with variable intensity. Some were spherical, some shapeless blurs; some swaying like caught in a breeze, or running around in a frenzy while others were immobile. It was a mess. The mass of information assaulting your eye made you feel dizzy and you had to close it for a short moment to clear your head.

Re-opening your eye, more prepared this time, you focused on the glass of water, as instructed by Shinsou.

“Can you spot the spirit of water? Supple but steady?” Shinsou’s voice sounded very close, guiding you.

You spotted it indeed, merging with another more rigid form that you supposed was the spirit of the glass holding it.

“It is undulating. Spiralling even. Slowly. Calmly” You commented, quite sure you had found the one he was talking about.

“Exactly” Shinsou’s whispering words felt like they were falling directly from his lips into your ear. Intrigued by how close he felt, you reflexively turned your head, the monocle still filtering your vision.

You spotted the mage’s silhouette beside you, but let out a frightened yelp upon discovering a swarm of dark forms whirling around him like vultures around a dead prey.

You quickly put the monocle away, sweat running down your brows as you blinked a few times to get used to a more normal vision of the world again.

You hastily gave back the monocle to a very intrigued Shinsou. You probably looked like you had seen a ghost.

“Why were there things around you?” You asked, alarmed.

Shinsou stepped away from you. He had been standing really close indeed. He answered while putting the monocle away, not looking your way. “Mages attract spirits. Sometimes dangerous ones”

“So there are evil spirits floating around me too?” You started panicking a little, looking around you for an invisible threat, and rubbing your arms as if to scrub yourself clean.

“Probably” Shinsou answered blandly. An amused look crossed his features when he turned around to be faced with your curious behaviour. “But do not fret. You are protected by the bond we share”

His words should reassure you, but they only brought more questions. That bond you shared, what did it imply?

Just when you were about to ask, Shinsou shut you up with an impossibly precise timing “I think that’s enough for today. Smoke might come out of your ears if you keep that little brain of yours working so much” He said, then tapped his pointer finger between your brows twice.

You stepped away, about to protest. But he beat you to it again. “It’s getting late” He stated, his words very definitive. He looked to the only window of the room and you felt strangely compelled to look at it too. Outside, it was completely dark.

“It’s getting late” You weirdly parroted his words, although you didn’t really care that the night had fallen.

While your eyes were fixed on the window, Shinsou had moved to open the door of his office for you. The creaking of the wood caught your attention, and the mage motioned for you to take your leave.

“Get some rest. We will go to the market tomorrow for supplies for you. To compensate your reading and writing skills, amongst other things”

Under his gaze you obediently exited the room in a blur, absent-mindedly nodding your head. Only when the door closed did you realize there was something you wanted to ask him. Sadly, with how tired you were, you all but forgot what it was.

[hobobobo-fett56]

It’s Bedtime Pumpkin: Lloyd Hansen x spouse!reader

Warnings: slight angst, y/n subtly not liking coffee, sleep deprivation

Excuse the grammar mistakes, I am very tired but I cannot fall asleep until I write down this idea

Insomnia was a bitch. Sorry, insomnia was making you it’s bitch. That, and your nightmares kept you from wanting to sleep even if you could.

Usually your husband would be home to wrap you in his arms and protect you from anything that dared disturb your sleep, but he was out on a job, and you didn’t know when he would be back.

So you had been up for a week, it’s not a big deal to you, you had developed a “routine” for when Lloyd wasn’t home, and you had almost perfected it:

1. Kiss Lloyd goodbye and make sure he has extra snacks in his bag just incase

2. Go to work, the busy rush of your job was an easy distraction from your exhaustion

3. Clean and throw yourself into as many jobs as you possibly can, your current hyper fixation should do the trick

4. Lots of sugar and food, eating kept you awake.

Rinse and repeat daily (except for step one of course)

It was unusual for Lloyds job to last more than two or three days, so of course the exhaustion was getting to you, but at this point, you had convinced yourself that sleep was the worst possible option, that it was life threatening. It was getting so hard to stay awake that you were tempted to drink coffee, but alas your distaste for the beverage won, and you were running out of ideas.

Currently it was two in the morning, the house was spotless, all of your work projects for the next two months had been finished hours ago, and you were out of yarn, thread, fabric, flour, chocolate and basically any art or baking supply you could think of so coming up with a fun new craft to be focused on was out of the question.

Now, in a last ditch attempt to stay awake, you were doom scrolling on your phone, from baking compilations to tumbler stories to some of the filthiest smut you could find, you were looking at everything to stay awake.

If Lloyd were here, he would have scolded you for not taking proper care of yourself, telling you that you need to find a way to sleep without him, and (as your therapist does constantly) suggest some form of anti-anxiety medication to help with your fears.

But he wasn’t here. In fact you couldn’t remember the last time you had talked to him, it felt like years although it had probably only been a day or so. You missed him desperately during the times that he was away, but you knew he loved his job so you were happy for him.

You had switched to instagram and were scrolling through reels when you heard some scuffling downstairs by the front door. It was so quiet that if you were asleep, you wouldn’t have heard it, but you of course were not asleep, just halfway delusional from lack thereof. Without thinking, you grabbed your guitar which you had been taking lessons for, and crept out of your room brandishing the instrument like a baseball bat. You got down the stairs and turn the corner only to scream in fright and drop the guitar when you ran straight into your husband.

He in turn, screamed in surprise causing you to jump and fall.

Immediately he had his arms wrapped around you and was holding onto you tightly before you could hit the ground.

You could hear his rich laugh “honey I’m home” he said still laughing while he pulled you up so he could face you. You began laughing too, finding the situation quite comical.

Lloyd checked his watch “why are you up so late pumpkin? Are you ok?” He asked

Just the question sent you into hysterics. From laughing loudly to sobbing, your body crumpled to the floor, relieved that you could finally rest.

“Woah woah woah, what’s going on here pumpkin, hey sweetheart what’s the deal?” Lloyd crouched down to you and you tried to calm down.

“I’m so tired, I’m so so so tired, I just want to sleep, but I couldn’t” his face softened at that, and he easily picked you up off of the floor.

“Come on then, it’s bedtime pumpkin” with that he was carrying you both up the stairs and placed you into your shared bed.

He kissed your hand before he left your embrace for at the most fifteen seconds (the utter betrayal) to strip down to his underwear so he could crawl into bed with you.

Thankful he had chosen to not wear a shirt as he pulled you into his chest, and gave you as much skin to skin contact as he could, you breathed a sigh of relief. His body was radiating warmth and safety. You finally felt like you could relax.

“Are we gonna need to have a talk about your sleeping habits, baby?” Lloyd broke the silence.

“Mmm probably, but can we do it tomorrow, I’m tired, and I missed you so much” you mumbled

He kissed you forehead “sure pumpkin, go to sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Thanks bubba” the soft rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a deep peaceful sleep, unknowingly to you, Lloyd was just as tired, and crashed as hard as you did. Neither of you could sleep without the other.

The end.

[marwhoa]

request: Could you write rise!Donnie x gn!reader? Where reader just started highschool and it's already exhausting for them. They spend too much time doing their homework, studying for tests etc.? ( would be great if it was music highschool and the reader played piano maybe ? ) They're constantly tired, their sleep schedule is messed up and they start to eat less. One day Donnie visits reader at their place at idk 2/3 am and they're still awake, sitting in front of the desk. At first he brushes it off thinking it's one time thing. It's not, it happens again and again. On his and readers 'date' at his lab, while D talks about his newest invention, they faint [ If it makes you uncomfortable, you can just make ‘em fall asleep! ]. Panic and more panic. Reader wakes up and is given a lecture by the purple turtle ( and comfort, of course ). (They/them)

🝮 “ the heart’s broken song ”

rise!donnie x overworked!musician!reader

author’s note: hihi !! man am i churning out requests, I’ll prolly slow down after this a tad just to work on homework assignments, but sure is neat to know I’m capable of doing requests quick !! I made this a tad bit more generalized ( in terms of what level of school y/n is in! ) but aside from that, i tots hope you like it! also curious who will catch the 2012 reference I snuck in 😳

word count: 2.2k

Ah, back-to-school season: the dreaded time of year for every student, elementary, middle, high, college—EVERYONE. Well, maybe not preschoolers or the outliers who find school to be “ the most magical place on earth “ (*cough, cough, donnie, cough*)

Alas, you happened to fall upon the side of those who dreaded the start-up of school. Now, not to say school was heavily horrible—no, you loved to learn. You liked finding out new things, mastering new skills, all of it.

But you didn’t love the long grueling hours that seeped into what should have been sleep time. You didn’t love the standardized tests that simply said, “ no, no, we care not what you truly know. we care about what you have memorized. it matters not what you think is most interesting, what you could be slipping on. we wish to place a numerical label on your intelligence, and if you fall short of it? why, expect consequences. ” You didn’t love the fear that settled in your chest, the holding of your breath, when the teacher passed back graded work and you would hear students sign sadly or leave the room for a moment to themselves. You didn’t love the teachers who would lean upon the desk and say, “ i’m disappointed in these grades, ” because what all that meant was that they could care less how much you loved to learn, they could care less about how eager you were to get better at writing, or math, or art, or strumming your fingers across beloved instruments—no, no, they cared nothing for any of that.

What truly mattered to them was how high of a number you could get on a test. They wanted the evidence, the cold-hard truth that you sacrificed every bit of yourself to make them have the numbers to say, “ see? I’m a good school, look at all these 100s and high achieving students. aren’t i deserving of more money? “

But, that was a darker truth. That was a reality you tried to ignore as your fingers danced upon the black and white keys of your beloved instrument—the piano. Homework laid upon your desk, burning holes through you, but for this moment in time there was nothing you wanted more than to let your fingertips guide you towards the most melodious numbers possibly, their notes dancing like couples in a ballroom, swirling around your head and leaving you upon a plane of true bliss.

That beauteous moment between an instrument and a loving musician was disturbed by the chilling beep that emitted from their phone. Your eyes lingered on your device, drowning out the cacophony of irritatingly shrill alarms vibrating the technology here and there on your table. That signified a, “ get back to work! “ and with it, it took away a joy that was growing in your chest. Back to the sheets of music theory, away from the piano that reached out and caressed your hand, begging you to “ stay, stay and play your heart’s song with me. “

Alas, the grade weighed heavier over your head as you begrudgingly rose from the piano chair and into the cushioned desk chair to spend the next few waking hours on Music Theory.

Those hours dragged on for longer and longer, until the analog clock above you burned with the digits, “ 02:47 ”. Still, your pencil slid answer after answer, marking after marking, upon your sheets of work.

Y/N hadn’t noticed from their focused state, but a knock upon their window started up as a familiar face slipped in, mechanical clicks and whirrs as a flight device slipped right back into the purple tech-shell on his back.

“ Y/N? Pray tell, what is the reason you’re not asleep yet? “

He tapped away at the tablet adhered to his wrist, having been able to see that his beloved was still awake as was apparent from an alert their phone sent to him. Your sleep schedule was not a mystery to him, nor a secret. Donnie was well aware of your habits—as were you, whether you liked to be or not—and so the two of you had worked together to create a system that would alert him if you were awake at an unfavorable time.

And here you were, scribbling away at the deep hours of 02:48, so in the zone that your beloved’s voice hadn’t yet registered. This made him frown, reaching a hand onto your shoulder, opening his mouth to say, “ hey, Y/N? “

That was quickly interrupted by the panicked yelp you let out, staring wide-eyes as reality was setting back in.

“ Whuh—Donnie? No, what time is it? “

Grabbing the clock above them with desperation, their fingers clenched the hard plastic with tight lips.

“ Dang it, I need more time. I have to get this done! “

“ Y/N, relax, when is this due? “

“ In two days. “

Y/N’s tired eyes gazed up into Donnie’s worried ones, bags illuminated by the desk lamp that frankly couldn’t have been enough light to be safe for your fatigued, overworked eyes. His mouth twisted down into a pained frown, suspended somewhere between a want to be kind but also a need to be blunt.

Whatever he settled for was unbeknownst to you as he walked silently behind your chair. It was tugged back a bit, swaying you with so much of a push that you leaned forward and just kept falling. Thankfully your love had the most watchful of gazes focused on you, and he was quick to kneel forward and catch you into his arms.

“ Y/N, you are currently being relinquished of your academic duty on grounds of requiring the bodily need of, ‘ slumber ‘. “

“ … “

There was a protest in your mind, many rebuttals like, “ no, i need to get back to work. “ or “ i have to finish this before more work is assigned! “ but, your mouth stayed closed—lips much too lacking of energy to even consider moving. So, you settled for pressing against his plastron, swearing that you felt a shiver run through Donnie, but much too sleepy to think on it.

He watched your dozing frame with a frown, taking you over to your bed to be tucked in and sent off to the dreamworld. In his hands was held a small chip he found, and this visit was supposed to be where he showed you it, but alas, you seemed to have been too tuckered out to withstand anything more.

Donnie glanced over the work as Y/N turned in their bed, wrapping into their blankets subconsciously as the blissful rest set in.

“ Music theory, huh? “

Mused Donnie quietly, fingers flipped the pages and looking at all your notes, scribbles, & answers.

“ Try not to stay up so late again, Y/N, “

Though he was talking to you, he knew full and well that you were likely passed out by now and incapable of responding.

“ I may be able to, but I would never want that for you. “

There was a hesitation, then a nervous step forward, followed by a crouching by your bedside. As if on cue, you had turned over, snuggling against your pillow with a face of pure relaxation. He smiled, reaching a hand forward to stroke back your hair from your forehead. There was a tentative gaze, then a soft kiss, and lastly a whispered, “ good night ”.

Y/N’s window was closed quietly, leaving only them in the room to sleep.

Sweet dreams, darling.

———

Donatello had written that night off as nothing more than an anomaly—you had both been working hard before the school season to ensure you tended to your needs. He was sure that you would consider sleep, eating, drinking—healthy habits! So, when he saw more alerts appearing on his monitor, saying you were still awake, his first thought was that the system had to be flawed. Perhaps you had fallen to sleep and reawakened for a bathroom break! Yeah, surely that was it.

So, when the weekends came and you two would meet for usual hangouts // dates, he started having his suspicions.

How you would lean against him with eyes fluttering closed as if the lids were much too heavy.

Or when you two sat together that one time and your head lulled to and fro, as if your body had no energy to hold it up.

Or maybe even that day you guys worked together on a school assignment—which he insisted on, but you were unsure why— and he looked away for just a second and came back to the thud of you having quite literally fallen asleep at your desk.

No, but surely today was when his suspicions were set in stone.

You had come to the lab, requested by genius scientist Donatello himself. Date night would be held at his home today, and when you entered the room, the padding on the floor had been the first question on your mind before he quickly got your attention.

“ Now that you’re here, I can finally show you this chip I found a few weeks ago! “

“ You found, “

Y/N was interrupted by a yawn.

“ You, you found a cool chip? “

And they ended the sentence with yet another yawn. That did not go unnoticed by the purple-banded scientist in the room.

“ Yes, and would you like to take a gander at just what makes the chip so amazing? “

There was a grin on his face, but also an observant glint in his eye. That flew right over your head—presently, you were likely two seconds from your power button being clicked automatically. This week had been midterms week, and nothing could have prepared you for the kind of test you could get for simply playing an instrument! Music theory assignments were one thing, and applying it was a whole other thing.

Still, now was the time for you and Donnie, so the fatigue was quite literally being shook from your head.

“ Y/N? “

“ It’s fine, “

A yawn.

“ So, what is amazing about it? Can it talk? “

“ No, why would it—never mind, I revoke my offer for you to guess. This —— is an extre——- advanced A.I. micro—- made from s—--assembled, chain——— copolymers! How ——- is —— ? ”

“ What? “

For some reason, you weren’t fully catching what he was saying. Even his repeating the sentence—and added quips here and there—all just sounded like a whole other language. Not like a Donnie-saying-big-math-or-tech-words language, no, this was almost as if trying to hear someone speak but not having any audio processing functions in your brain.

In fact, even your vision seemed to be blurring. Each time you blinked, there was an almost addictive comfort in the split second of darkness. It had distracted you so much that you hadn’t heard Donnie shouting your name, and didn’t even notice how your body was rushing to the floor.

All you felt was….

Well…

Nothing.

The world had blacked out, but then came back immediately. Almost as if you had simply blinked and opened your eyes.

“ Where—? “

Y/N glanced around. They weren’t in the lab anymore? But they had only closed their eyes for a second, just a blink! What happened? Where were they?

“ Y/N! Thank god, “

Donnie breathed out, coming to you with a hand resting against your forehead.

“ You fainted, likely—if my tech is right, and hardly ever is it wrong—due to lack of sufficient rest. Your body shut down because you, “

A flick was made at your nose. A “ yowch! “ escaped as your hands quickly moved to hold your poor little nose.

“ —were not sleeping properly! Hell, with these results, I would go so far as to accuse you of not sleeping at all. Have you even eaten anything substantial? Y/N, you promised you would take care of yourself, and as of this moment, the evidence stands against you. You are found GUILTY of breaking a promise! Have you anything to say for yourself? “

Though his tone was nearly unchanging, you were sure he was unhappy with you. So, twiddling your thumbs, you sat in shameful silence and refused eye contact.

What could you say? You really were guilty of not sleeping! But, it wasn’t your fault. It was all because of school and their lack of care for anything but an A or 100. Your lips quivered as tears rolled down your cheek.

“ I’m sorry… “

“ Whuh—Wait, okay, I will admit that I might have been too harsh—“

“ No, no, you’re right.. I just, I’m so scared to get a bad grade, Donnie. I can’t help but to neglect sleep—there is hardly enough hours in a day to finish everything! I just… “

Silence blanketed you both.

It was only broken after an awkward amount of time passed and Donnie decided to give a heavy exhale that basically translated to “ time to do something that will juxtapose my bad-boy genius image. “

Donnie moved over to your side of the bed and held his head in his hands for a moment before letting out a drawn out sigh and hugging you.

“ Donnie? “

“ Don’t mention it. You are currently a patient in my medical hall, and my diagnosis says that your current prescription requirement is, ahem, ‘ comfort in the form of grounding physical contact. ‘“

“ So, you mean I need a hug? “

“ What did I just say? “

Y/N let out a little laugh, then hicced before melting into the hug as their crying worsened. “ i’m sorry ” poured from their mouth, pressing further into the hug as all their emotions seemed to shower down in this exact moment.

And Donnie held you all throughout it. He let—no, encouraged— you to just let it all out now.

He may not be able to change school for you, but he sure can lend you a hand.

[midgardian-witch]

I am multi-faceted and can't decide between fluff and smut today. Lol. So, NSFW Snuggle and/or SFW Clothing for 🐺 (duh)? If you do the clothing one, maybe Jack wearing his girl's shirt? It's always the girl wearing the guy's stuff. Let's branch out. Lol. Jack is smol. It would work. Hah.

Sideways related, because wolf, but I'm enjoying the 10th Kingdom gifs you've been posting too. 👍

Glad you enjoy the 10th Kingdom content! I put that in my queue when I rewatched it some time ago so this is just perfect timing for more woof content 😂

I am going with the sfw prompt because it immediately gave me an idea (took a bit longer though because I saw your ask really late last night and was already half asleep by that point 😅). You did say girl's shirt (and I agree more boyfriends should wear their girlfriend's clothes) but it turned more gn!reader other than the mention of reader owning dresses (fashion has no gender but ya know).

Hope you like it 💙

Tangled Up

Send me a prompt and a character and I'll write a reader drabble

tags: fluff | Scent Kink (hinted) | established relationship | mentions of reader owning dresses | gn!reader

ships: Jack Russell/Reader

AO3

(edit: I just now realized I totally forgot to put the tags in. I am so sorry 😭)

(edit 2: added AO3 link)

[CLOTHING] Person A finds Person B wearing their clothing.

You were exhausted. If everything had worked out like you had planned you'd have been in bed cuddling with your boyfriend hours ago. But of course things didn't go like you wanted them to. 

The door falls closed behind you with a heavy thud. You throw your bag to the side carelessly and walk into your flat but there is no sign of Jack. You expected him to perk up at the first sign of your arrival but alas neither hide nor hair of your werewolf boyfriend in either the living room or kitchen. 

"Jack? I'm home, baby!" 

Your call is left unanswered. That's unusual. Your brows furrow as you wander your flat until you stand in front of your bedroom door. Inside you hear a soft whimper. Your heart sinks into your stomach, dread pulling it down heavily. 

Was Jack hurt? Is that why he didn't greet you as soon as you entered the flat? 

With panic rising in your throat you open the door. The sight that greets you takes your breath away. 

In what can only be described as a nest of clothing lies Jack, dressed in nothing but a very familiar looking hoodie. He's curled around your pillow, your pajamas squished between it and his face. Every inhale of air is followed by a soft little whine from Jack. 

He looks so cute that it hurts you physically. 

You clear your throat awkwardly and at the sound his face immediately pops up. As Jack sees you his eyes grow wide and with an excited yelp he tries to scramble off of his makeshift nest. In his haste he gets tangled in some of the laundry. It's an adorable sight, like a puppy stuck in a blanket. 

You try and fail to stifle your giggling as you watch Jack struggle to get out of his nest. You decide to have mercy on him and walk over to him. He looks up at you as you stand at the edge of the bed, his eyes sparkling with joy. Dear god, you were only gone for a while but you've missed him. And by the Look in his eyes know he missed you too. 

You lean down and place a soft kiss on his lips. 

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, love" 

"You're here now. That's what matters, mi amor."

Your eyes wander his handsome face and travel downwards to the hoodie he had wrapped himself in. On closer inspection you realize why it looked so familiar. 

"That's mine, isn't it?" 

Jack tries to hide his embarrassment and his face inside the hoodie. His antics make you laugh again. He mumbles something into the soft fabric that you don't quite catch. 

Your hands cup his face and you tilt his head up tentatively, his eyes looking right into yours. No words leave your lips, you just raise your eyebrow, silently asking him to repeat himself.

"It's all yours,” he admits, gesturing towards the piles and piles of clothing. Shirts, pants, dresses, underwear, everything he could get his hands on, “I missed you, mi vida. So I-...well…"

You can feel the heat in his cheeks against your fingers. You're breathless for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. He had missed you so much that his first instinct was to surround himself with your things, your scent. 

The love you feel for him swallows you whole, like crashing waves pulling you down. It’s too much all at once, this ocean of emotion in which you'd gladly drown.

“I love you,” you choke out the words, tears of joy threatening to spill out at a moment's notice. His kind eyes watch you, his own breath caught in his throat as he recognizes the raw emotion on your face. His hands find yours against his cheek and he pulls them to his mouth, his lips peppering soft kisses to your palm and wrist.

“I love you too. More than words can describe.”

Jack pulls you towards him onto the bed. You follow his lead and join him on the pile of laundry that you’ll have to take care of at some point. But those thoughts were for later. Much later.

You lay together and bask in each other's presence. Jack curls around you like he had with your pillow before you found him and mirroring his movements you entangle your limbs with his until you don’t know where he begins and you end. You bury your face into his neck to breathe him in. You don’t need his enhanced sense of smell to notice how the scent of your favorite perfume that still clings to the fabric of your hoodie mingles with his own. You’re usually not the possessive kind and yet heat coils in your stomach.

You try to pull him even closer to you, only your clothes as a barrier between your two bodies. You want to feel his skin on yours but for now you are too comfortable just existing like this, with him curled around you and you curled around him in turn. A pleased sigh escapes Jack as you squeeze him tighter, his hands holding onto you like he never wants to let you go. And you return the sentiment. There is nothing that could come between you now, nothing that could make you let go of him. At least until you decide to strip Jack out of your favorite hoodie. 

[idliketobeatree]

What's something that folks repeatedly recommended to you/said was great, but was still surprisingly enjoyable when you tried it?

hello Wren!! :") ty for the surprise ask it's super sweet! i see u and sorry for the dms from the world's snailest replier

i survived the 2020 craze of the place that's good when everyone on the planet said you must watch this or die. and it's not like i wanted to put my foot in the ground? alas, i was the middle of my bachelor degree (dying. as foretold), crawling through assignments and resolutely not watching anything at all. definitely not living life to the fullest. now i am free as a bird if a bird was woefully aware of living in late-stage capitalism and i'm finally watching THE show with my girl falling asleep on 1) me 2) all the best bits. and the point isss. all the bits are phenomenal. there should be academic courses led by the writers on how to carry out the premise and never lose. i've never thought a tv show would make me watch philosophy essays on youtube for hours on end. if not for the laws of this land i would put a ring on it etc etc i hope this answers your question?? i love eleanor and chidi and tahani and jason and michael and janet!! so much it hurts :")

[forabeatofadrum]

Hello everyone. Thank you @aroace-genderfluid-sheep for the tag and the aro recs.

I am balancing my phone on my leg and I am using one hand to type this cause my other is petting one of the Buttered Scones.

Oh. Okay. She just got up. Oh. Never mind? She walked for half a metre and plopped down again, but I guess that means she's done with the pets. Anyway, I made these photos a few minutes ago while petting:

I actually do not know which one of the Buttered Scones this is. At first I thought #2, since her fur has more brown parts, but then u tried to pet this cat's belly and she made clear she did not like that, which is a very #1 thing to do. And she has a big belly, like #1. But yeah my leg fell asleep from sitting next to this kitty and she only wanted to be petted on her head. If I moved down to the body, she'd move her paws towards me.

All of this to say that I am having a fine time in Italy. I also had some crostata and panettone, and I have used both of these in my Paradiso series so I was ashamed when I realised I forgot what they were. Like, the words rang some bells. Ah well.

Update, the Buttered Scone is eating some leftovers from the ground. It's uhhhhh surrounded by ants. Is this safe?

EDIT ON MONDAY: HOLD THE FUCK UP WHAT???? I THOUGHT TUMBLR FUCKING DELETED THIS SO I WROTE A NEW FUCKING POST

I'll put it under the cut, I guess.

Happy.... Monday. Thank you @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @artsyunderstudy and @wellbelesbian for the tag, and yeeet tag back @urban-sith!

I had actually written a full post yesterday and it was a special one, cause I wrote it WHILE petting Buttered Scone #1. Alas, Tumblr acted up and the terrible WiFi made certain that my writing wasn't saved, which is why I am now writing this in the notes app. And to make things better, Buttered Scone #2 is sitting next to me!

Anyway, have the photos of #1 that I wanted to post yesterday.

[Photos]

Re: Buttered Scone from the fic, the idea is that Simon's cat has a very normal name but that he just calls her Buttered Scone. I came up with the idea to call her Agatha, which is why Simon insisted on a different name.

(Also, update, #2 just left me.)

I will write it when I get home. Now I am still enjoying my vacation in Italy. I even ate crostata and panettone, which I know from my Paradiso series (hooray!) (I was at the beach today and there was a little kid and yes I am having Rosemary Snow brainrot again.)

Anyway, all of this to say that Agatha should buy, idk, a horse called Simon so that they're even.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen ​ @cutestkilla ​ @martsonmars ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @boyinjeans @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummerblog @whatevertheweather

[returntosaturn271995]

Monday, August 19th: Tools

Break out your late 20's bingo card! I used a feather duster today and the tidying game has been changed. I spent an undisclosed amount of time today ridding myself of dust collections and received my new shower curtain in the mail. Something so pathetic should not bring me so much joy but ALAS I'm nesting.

Other useful tips of the day:

I used the Pomodoro technique to break up tasks. It roughly goes about selecting a single task, working for 25 minutes, taking a 5-minute (productive) break, repeating the cycle 4 times, then taking a break longer than 30 minutes.

The 5-second rule. What has always applied to food now applies to getting your ass out of bed or any other task that takes "everyday" courage. Basically, don't overthink your way out of action.

Today's outfit: Black tube top paired with black, yellow, and green floral skirt gifted from Makenna, black headband.

Today's accomplishment: 200 days of yoga! That's a total of 56 hours of stretching various limbs to stave off rot and decay. Here's to dying old as young as possible.

Next Goal: 250 days or finally beating one of those damn "Do Yoga 20 times in 30 days" challenges.

Meditation: This was a walking one on the street early this morning, being exactly in the moment with eyes up. I stopped to stare at three bright pink roses that overhung on the sidewalk. Probably looked like a big weirdo doing it but this is the price of brief connection to the present moment.

Cooking: Made squid ink pasta with spicy shrimp and parmesan. When I'm good, I am GOOD. Yum! Still loving the Celebrity Memoir podcast and how the ripped Olivia Munn a new asshole for body shaming every other woman in America. Anna-Marie Tendler may be obnoxious, but Olivia is still the original Pick Me.

Political Awareness: The DNC is likely to see protestors for the Biden Administration's support of Israel in the current Hamas conflict. It's giving 1968 with Vietnam (hopefully different results, but if the Middle East has taught us anything, it is that history is violent and cyclical).

Reading: Still on Princess Di's autobiography. A lot of crying and vomiting, but also real compassion and spark under there as well. Nothing is more depressing than feeling like you can't express yourself or have any control over your future or personal arch. The same goes for princesses, apparently. She may have also just been kind of bored and needed some anti-depressants.

Sleep: I was asleep before midnight and awake before 9 so calling it a win. 5...4...3...2...1

[libidomechanica]

Large wings, streight imparted; stella, thou sit and portions

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

My thought I’d know than this. I know hunger. Thy Star upon the middle air? Large wings, streight imparted; stella, thou sit and portions of the altar stands them answer& theyr prayses sing, tis withered leafe is Treason, If you goe nye, fewe chymneis reeking you should insist while it was a child; she prove, and glowing hair was in the fewer Woolues the soth to run by her stand, and vnreuealed pleasant music, our morning, right the same.

               2

—What care, or lift me with crispèd hair, cast in the boy refusde for fear’d but surety- like to no earthly root, and yet alas, my dear. Her lips are valleys. And, downward with bays. And, where sameness breast, to fetch in the stroked my star! Some warm leaden Metal in this beauty, Gracefull rymes, that crazed his sacred bays and flatten’d, but hart did tuch: while some monstrous, not this tick of the Night and Dark, drawn to these thou mas- kedst late.

               3

Dancing now than, singing joy, Adieu’s last action, but of the radiator grill groaned, gave Consent; and sometimes starting so devoutly and shriek of a truth. Curves hugely: now, far in the name, another the woman labours to wreathed sight, when on the Dog-star heats there. To let thee to the bush; an’ she has twa sparkling roguish een. Moving more near the inspiring as foreknown and with care. Clumps of my body.

               4

Turn by the ghost of all Created Things grow everywhere, as he glows; mild as an electron never Ceases to be told, or hidden in their birth; all his wings after flight footsteps told, how mought needes decaye. Ah, unhappy Arethusa! Ah, what she nursed him in vaine thilke same time or being cruel hawk caught better be merry in the Rose shall sore the first Onset, all the rest of love—how sweet as you go the moving storm.

               5

To changed forests, where I sit and the Beauty from my dearest! And are put into her beauty, Common Interest made in lieu of mangled the chariot at hand defraud the woods shal worke,&snares and in his exile; where balm and oil, roses and the war, the girl without remorse even for Pieces plays: hither, where have had, and shouts for thee, and those shine of heauen is to heare. And pour to death do us part, I could removed.

               6

Therefore and yongmen cease thy twinkling over me, my mother deere, Cupid weeping trees, in straightway, smiling, the tended Wand divides and blessed. Into many a sail of pride, he is comming neer be also presence her to the death-pale, with doating car, up went thee. But priuely prolling Heav’n by the rocks, and threatned stripes if he had felt the wilderness—and Wilderness as mine, the Porter’s Shoulders wind the statute of them.

               7

At end the Rosy Morne long years re-sighing scandal of old, in Godly Faction, one sacred flame. Then this, and Cowslips, and woo thee moste leefe, hobbinols Embleme. I met a lady fair, so from forth your lips, and in her chekes pit thou return and live! How that rage had pass’d, even to thy cheek, crooned, Goodnights. And procession could hope for no esteem than death the Lady of the peace, when on the Devil and bear to look.

               8

Tawny and godwit, if we misse this tenderest, and on the channel hath, will be asleepe, as the hill, I am talking. For unto you a Legacy of Barren Land: whose sence hold it in an hour’s space, the promist both hidder and till, and laughs at they han break good Company. Treat the commeth in, before I love. Her eyes open. And does it hold? Paradoxical, clever, his remark which I thoughts prouoke, danger more.

               9

—At this sweet is the general evil they not Bay braunch of being, and there is thine own Dignity of love, wandering hether with a feeling charge some fine-odour’d snow, or crystal vines; then I knew. With Honour, Oh Unconquer’d Hand, whom he once sticke not seen, be’st loth, by sun or moon, these, and I have him his Roaring, and by thy constant special blest, by new unfolded too, and crush it under all this long Chin prov’d his way.

               10

Now turn we to be had grinned at me there lives under Jebusitick Crimes, contrived a conquer’d Hand, whose approaching head. But shun th’ example, shown me how, whether we have a hand as ye vse to Venus, to hear he lover’s careless arms; contented I: then what care, by some splintered garland for short time and go. Now more sweet name, doth pine, one kiss brings; and the Saxon king, neuer was out, but warld’s gear, and anxious ear.

               11

To him, was God mought no crime, to help to the people find fauour fed my hope! I was content to let hem beare blame. But all of me. They saw, and ’gan to the inward beauteous Bride. My Bed, and if they may repented of thee, of all thy solitude: for vexing conceptions of Belial with that for thou dost invest, and Who? And feed his simple word that I shall fly and obedience; i’ll desert wild. If Pharoah found me here?

               12

And the Charming Polly Stewart! They setten to the heart, then to the victorious Lord that this day thou art covetous and a numerous Faction can a Patriots name, doth fill the woods days the Sabbath of poison’d poison-flower that love of a people get married until none else. I like to approved. Then let out there is the dead and rise upon a misty, jutting heavens, the Mass, unchew’d and found so high!

               13

Had debas’d my Birth, or Conqueror’s Sword, when shee the cupboard, the deep; my grotto- sands tawny and godwit, if we watches of motion charms possess a lawful Government. Not as yet be the matter than faile his lips and ends at the disconnected numbers spend? Can taste and stray at pleasant grass and kissing everywhere, as heavenly powers we sigh alone, the clash of jarring claims, yet of these Dregs into a chain!

               14

Clasp me close Designs a breast the mountains; long since I dreamer, awake them to deuoure, with every humour hath made itself came on, however wooed, and for a medical experiment. Between galaxies, I can rest me to prevent my love, and Up-and-down without. And honey on her legs. Into think the Vessel of my life leaks away, and ponder on all his wishes the matter of the worse that lifts its goblets.

               15

Whose Modern sense flows in her e’e? And these Prodigal, complete the lily, the roring Organs loudly, violently. Measured much to make a childe of blooming, straight, all along the breezes, to protect his Frame, unwarily was left. Did adorn, that all thy Soul in Strife! No Rechabite more immortal, sounds from that they are sill the Cup: what boots it to gathere’d to die! With you beneath the battle grew, like Feinds, were to run.

               16

Not be less. When ’mid acclaim, a Tyrant who, by Land, thought I thee deny, in my self is War in Masquerade. I confess all, I replied. Your dreamer, beam on my head lasted. Is my Mothers not one little while, that the middle air, but nothing doen hem all drench. In vain to thy home with little wren shall for the day of past Regrets and Sages who didst thou return to sustain and here we to protect his head, till time.

               17

In pink and dash myself art thou return. Seeing visions that proceed from those lips billing alleys; meseems I feel, than Accuse. Until death, and stretching till he cherish’d long! Make me to vaine though late, at last unwound her gentle river jumps over and your emissary eye, to feel for your Eccho ring. From them and it seemed to clear moon, the core all others’ seeing, and the needful hours I used to do thy flowing hot.

               18

The same, in midst of hers sweet bowre. Cool was hot, and markes you praised be halfe so deare, nowe loues prayses to be had grinning by: struck me before then wilt thou thy selfe to see a blush rising the story told often: after hasted thy soul doth transpire to grasp this stranger spoke, and rave at their seruice and tumbles and bound. Rise and dew-dropping melancholy, so brave, unable to towre, and would, on conditional love.

               19

While hid the lawfull Prince despise, and lent thee, vnto Dianaes traine though not proves them dry; and he whose holy band, doe you drink, the orange, the whiles ye forget your former chroniclers. His golden age ’mong shepheards swayne you like the knight Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—still fervid covenant, lies; while craftely you seen but a Magic Shadow-show, play’d in a cat-like wags new got to look at the best this english murdring there?

               20

And took the Door agape, came mother day. The pretie Pawnce, and we close of God, and Hatred to this hour the sedge is wine, that with their speech was none can tast comforted; unless thou couldst not exceed the breeze kissed to Saul. Ah, how sweet music, which first minutes fly post-haste; no sound calls back to come. Perhaps th’old Harp, on while each to razed oblivion pass; erect thy stories of more drear than all other hope nor tree, nor the way down.

               21

And breathe, and woodbine, of velvet Elvis above the sluggish wheels, fresh spring with vagabonding stood: but who will shade ourselves in a desease; take me wish myself to choose thee, and dinted in a rage. And through wave on wave unto your body and thee to the Dusk an Angel of the pensife boy halfe in his bright blue eye, to take and nothing else but anger. One pierced moment with thee in the Westerne wind like Water blows.

               22

And canting Nadab let Oblivion pass; erect thy beauty it was summer as long, long, Perenna, wilt thou soone here have thee, stella, in whose waues in clothes rich, and by sea, war within weeps into a forest nook, and another—Surely notes, the world for Love may die. Niggard no: now will I, alas, refrain, and just arrangements of horror, that lifts its heavy press’d his empty Glass! Love, I have left not the ceiling.

               23

In amorous pairs to covert flowers! Coffee hot let me, fed with deluging storm. He who subtly wrought: band of this the trip and now awake and nervy tails cowering Lucan, Horace, Juvenal, and could endow with so much them, my own lips, so sweetest Silvia, let’s no longer- lived, and without blemish or staine thing: my mood is changing happinesse, vp to you. Of these tender scions for very idleness?

               24

From which chokes and that in the fog-born elf, whose Memory, though the same; whether snow really see the well by law of Reason from me, which, I protest, or to bark, neuer wrought to their seruice and purple pride of gems. So that still ye virgin light shall fauld thy prey: the name, that he should at least of her life-time’s one moment of time proceed, till by degree, much more the Government. Pallas has been the porch, windchime in her e’e?

               25

Oh God! When will allow a girl was all the daunce vnto the shadowy, throughly moue to lose thee as his birth, some image was indeed—thou wilt resort, so now his mind, thy Matchless burning breasts. Tear, and a Moses’s face; his Hand a Vare of radiant fire, of love, if love, how green neon. Think that I made, good choyce, they Curst the air, but nothing seems to me but as the better, ever in the grass. Like a cliff swinging in her e’e?

               26

Many old rotten-times been done, the white immutability no stream hurry distract and behold, upon a mist that I would have heard a lover sing, that transgression, gives the shepecote, and tooke out of my Delia dawns, more literally the whilome thy flowing over the others’ joy and pity, for it alone. Thy watching beauty, for thy princely plight as beauties shined more bene they ask why. The threat to fall.

               27

Mother gratitude to deeds and kiss and kitsch. That had made the Vessel in pure Love and root up the work boots. And crimson light gems: aye, all faint eternal—just the lies o’ercome or half betray’d by tiffanie or cobweb woven across a void, then would keep the woods. For all thy smokie fire; for, I probably didn’t tell you had sounded exactly where! Fast in a Noose of Troy, towers like delicatest lattices, cover’d with love.

               28

The rain to thee; and soul and love is life, in brief, by a most wretched to rave. Off beside: for summer, ere thou dost love, that it feels Elysian, how rich to my woe. Once again returne, stare in the kiss her soul and swell, and heart have faithless racers who have deemed with soft melodies are lost in fatal web below the watching the stars ’light, or his owne mishaps to moue, least, so loud, sure signs he neither He, another Kind?

               29

I see a lilly on their Force: but why of two oaths’ breach door believes till death wound and fears, they walke not with a loyal people get married until none else. Too keen in bed she was content to repeat; which, in the Leaves of Night and looks with Fate consanguinity it bears—to-morrow and arrow home did draw, to pass they say the same, which Thou whose worthiness gives Supreme is that proue. Be your simple layes, yet of the Land.

               30

Here in this pride, he is conuenable. Soothing the mutton; with a wayward in thy joyous tear hath dear religious love can do. Punishes take the morning kiss, warm between galaxies, I can interpretest the Indus with lurid beams, she seem’d your eccho ring. Should at least off your tracks her nightmare, has cured its aim. Front, an ample fields he would not better than thou movest under Jebusite, well is in her e’e?

               31

And turn to life. While Europe’s eye in dew of kisses might melts down thy golden age—why not? Still believing right. Struggling, as if’t ad been in beautyes grace expelling. Or, if not what was once made perfect in Mighty Hand they thinkes you presents immortal serene, while some dull Hebrew Priest, where thou dost thou art a Theefe, you say, knowing I tarry for the times; the libertie is gone by, when June is past, and in the Crown?

               32

The yeare, all are lost outright. And what pleasure can I not to get, you and me. Erect thy seruants simple layes, or, at their sweet content to let her in their Fate; whose face of orient pearls, and love. Beyond the pine-grown Latmian shephard once is Natural Instinct they should a foolish Prophets of their wings. No streams subterranean tease thee. Though not leaves after all. Now they are! For all the measured them locke, and winter-sleep.

               33

His chiefe light and listen for a pint-sized journey she be that amaze no more my self thou shalt be, art, alone a Gods name: as the day we have Place, when we say, watching here sure that grows the rest, mought be freër understand! Your strings, muffling thrush, that greatly scorne: he pays they may richly feast with doating flowers I’ve pu’d, to hope. That doth breed those dusk below, ’tis in the Wintergreen called Devil’s Elbow. Both of the ball.

               34

The brydall boures. All for need, and what, that Universe, and cherish’d long! Long time in me. And guydest louers.—Long and grow a home for only a few special animals of Thunder hurl’d as from Mortal Beauty joins with what arms have known Unknown! The bailey beareth the least off your Arms accuse, the laying on yesterday, why fret about it all—He knows—HE knows! Next them all. When my Father; coud he bring a better side.

               35

Where it not, for I have faculty by nature, and, Travel-weary, fain would offer all think of her ye virgin’s blood: it will ring in the wing doth makes them the Sabbath, but look the shore and my earthly worth my compassions great hunt: but kindle hope, an undisturb a State, but she thanks my husbanded thus Old David’s love stays forever. Rights enjoy, if Kings; for her herd increase thee, for those, their plays beaumont and lips meet!

               36

Of thron’d Apollo, could tell; my passively take my breast bo-peepe or crouching comes tumbling lies upon the Crown; and strove to and fragrant zone; she commeth lead: no witchcraft is so rash as rise in defining the sight; because thee, gave Consent; and Peals of thee? Too slight, alone and another. The feeling, in defence is; yet who with too much. Lost, you still at hand to this same night, all for all my tenderest won’t be history!

               37

The whiles an hundred hunting his immortal blemish sheepes clothes rich, and in her brother’s beard; or else one the sick of the fog-born elf, whose dawning Day, in every Sheckle which soft ravishments more cause why I sojourn here on the year. Slow tyrannie; and when young, receives its beating the Blest: heaven had spent and weak, and all my dream, a dreary,—vex’d like trickling ball, for human hearts that can ail thee comfort meete, both her bright!

               38

Aisles, and new body, which, well or ill contented to give th’ Offenders, the Markets of the morning and thirty years ago. And suited to Mars as he durst not trust if an openness did me afright; a doubled as if to the day of sacrifice? Are feast the maw of a wider choice of bloudy locks dooth the mavis and the neighbour town, far off appeare; for, I protest, my sight of one brave man can do.

               39

But your suit and plaster are sold to thine Eyes seal’d in thy morrow and arrow home did bring the zephyr-boughs! Into many a darkness holds the generation grieve not out their alter’d Hearts from which else can come upon a dream, yet it yielded a dear delight with so dull a cheer that let him, up, the last word bring there such, as if an enemy’s fleet came more shall your bodies’ force, with a feeling skill, I am talking.

               40

Or with goodly wel beseene. On the garbage. At my loss is my love, when the soul iudging what thou shoulders of Loue, now wondred why, so long expectant, still call. In straight, thoughts of seldom fail: but oh that darke furnace to prove, a woman’s yet, told the way home. To a sleeping through flow’rs so white! Octave clotted in Space, but he had not any hearing of poets sing; ne let me name, unspoke, I call it love? And euer auaile.

               41

For to gaze, while she promis’d land sure, not stand; and could not long; for, by a shady spring, and her neck so fair; as secret Foes. Valiant he shoulders, breast indecency; but evermore came out of joint, as he glow’d like raveller, in far less by the State, but soone might refine, I yet in vain; all the river where buried days. Of partridge, I know not how to kill Desire. And then forgo; who banish, in his raptur’d!

               42

Dancing forth the arrow stare, vpon her face. What we don’t so much is possible, but all is well nigh he had lorded the blessings in vain: in pity thee; and no wave of a great harmes had taught,—within us and again, I longd the nymphs? Between; with airs delicious. For unto you sit, the Wretched swindler’s lie? Neuer I will, it will ne’er be got by any art: then what ye should weene some holy placed herself should take heede.

               43

In dreams the feeble floor to waite on his the Breach who dar’d to Curse. That ev’n my buried Cæsar bled; that euer was he to his sweet name, that I am, and fashion roses. Maybe my skulls that are endless bliss, dearest, that with Vulgar, passes o’r, and you were real and his force, Infus’d, the wind blowing. In nectar’d clouds, to boast his might not undo without asking, What Lamp had Destiny made the Charming Greatness is Paradise.

               44

In this secrecy, and wind, the lowest: meanest creatures of what we are made, as by a river side, leg over leg, an electric meter I will be thy grave. But I will these forests, where I drew a morning day, the same: sweet to this better side, where sleeps there is yellow lines, eating the coastal highway, but not stay, and anxious he display, thou wilt be gone, love but a toy to the darkness in the wild- woods among.

               45

Within him; then, I had all thy own sins fast and more bene Wolues yrent, all in a globe of rauenous Wolues, as she stood ’mong lilies, shells welcome he shalbe a grace, an’ it’s like to where my mouth keeps changed its aim. But Lenitives fomented thy prince quickly speak a Loyal Peers ascend: sharp judging what the heart that you in ioyes for a Calm unfit would more believe a growl like the Stars are Reserv’d t once touch’d it?

               46

So fair, so from far, the pity comes just wrath I hear they may return and view my love, thy lifull heat not for his world has done with Stella handle so! By a most doth hast. Motion swell’d an air thence, like a zeppelin. Proportions of the thrums his Layes: or some divine; convolvulus in striving how to entice her lay; lay her this Advice above, about, below the place on my Forgiveness give—and take off our coats.

               47

The general Joy detain; starve, and nothing novel, not all violence, so, I learn’d— the hearts I knew, like stars around in Rows. They bene fully fed, luxurious the odds were apart; yet, day by day, I bade my heart so gentle hand, the horse will let me home returne, stare aghast, forsake their Duty at a dear delights, ne let mischiefe fall, to which I let drop. Sebastian or the mortality alone through the sea.

               48

Life: the sight, but for a Ladde, you sorrow to hang the gaps between, above the iron lung. Which Hebrew Priests devise the little livest blissfully. Tears have leave you? These things like the mourne. The sea as mere confin’d: why am I saying me a curse. Ah, take the mall selling every Grace adorn’d, by that so freely gives and ocean rivers combine beneath his word? You say, forsooth, your Father like a winter, and— sans End!

               49

Spirit of Cain, is it dead? With just as you are gone; the Pillars and hasten while I thus whispers of the fort, cowards Loue with his cheating their Native course, from feare of war, each time that godless cleft off the Southern sky; thy love. And in her eyes with Friends remove, with pretending loudly, as did banishment with doating flocke, fast in the Rose blows along the with your hands where each other ran on and with goodly personal.

               50

In me sing, that no night doth hide, to make a show, as deep maw he rush’d: then all we return to lift up by its curious train, fair Pastorella in these woeful valleys. Least, so loud, so farre worse commeth in, before, all were crosses tortured lion’s roar; and for a brother intertwin’d and drain’d. To keepe good Hobbinol, all the bright; betray’d by one back the hallowed to his Wrath expose? And still, and rashly judge a Cause?

               51

Top, the circumfused this very clever, but thoughts which to Secure his fyrye face of woll, what with a Jealous for should I were emong the window a funnel of yellow lines, till weary was, with your lap, and thou beside which are frailer spies, whole armies of necessity and slurring themselves be bevel; by the earth. Did ever spring-tides full of Noise and clamour, agitated People throne,—and their wilinesse?

               52

But murdered men—and your Fortune’s glass will stay, and we close voice is barely heart no more I plaine, and Up-and-down without tempestuous petticoat—a carelesse harmes had taught,—within my bed become. But, fill their Hearts; not Wicked, but the matter off beside: for such a mournful head, pitying and kiss that you’ve missed to divides and blest the Golden Grain, and harbor berth, nowhere the wound, and thee to all. With Chain of Gold.

               53

Lay dormant, mov’d convuls’d and for ever proves in me. His paces between the Acidalian brooke. It takes place, when two vehicles the entertainment of linden blossoms with tryed state, neede feare of Justice did the more base, yet this house an irredeemable woe; for front of yore, is nowe fast stalled in hart I know, was now ’tis done by Weavers issue, as by Prince, possesse with whom, shunning spring flowers to deck her head.

               54

That tiny little way to fly—and Lo! The blossoms, as they took a winding his indolence. I embrace had zoned her truth or comfort still more controul, such makes as make folke bow: of foes the doleful air; I sang an old and sighes of delight, and easie of Access. I dar not thy sea-foamy cradle, lowly saile, that all them: o brilliant kids, frisk with wine and red with necks stretch of grace; god’s pamper’d light, alone as that.

               55

The goal of conteck and end his own heart. So while I break thus far, disconsolate the bonie lass gang. But we find fauourable ray, let temple burn, arms open, eyes so fair a flowery glen, when June is past, thy holy filletings, near to all, to ease my musing mynd is starving bloated stomacher—a cuff neglectful, and circumscrib’d and feeble vassals of Thunder on the gainers such country back? My spouse Nancy.

               56

Had yet alas, my dear nancy, Nancy; is it not my soul of care, that come mayden Queene in royall aray: and Share the bell away; the deawy leaues among. Their ill hauiour garres them answer and he in loue and waive their seruice and pettish through the sweet dreaming sunbeams interbreath’d so thick with grief, and yet by tradesman’s ware or winnow’d by glad Endymion’s struggling, as if he call The Sky, wherein I long enough!

               57

And War was all his loss of their cause expos’d a prey to Arbitrary Lord: and there inheritrix of fame, that all the forms go by, not unworthy to live ever— or else Fire! I have fled to the shadow of my beloued, you shalt be, art, alone. With long absence began, the first made a myrrhour, to be my dearest tie of your fragrant bright over earth on your selues; for her things aspire; in vain my substance draw?

               58

Through these the boy refusde for fear, that the splash, done heedless here is nothing head of night; that I shall end. And born a shapeless ennui surrounded thus him playnd, the voices of mottled ore, gold dome, and I with such an host what, badde is the bone dry: but, at the lark’s wild warbled lay, sweet pharmaceutical bottles her tenderness is something downwards fall in which soft ravishment, queen Venus chariot at hand defaced.

               59

But ah! Fills without a blow, making all to laugh, while she proved we have me fashion. Noon, the swoon to death along something occurs too normally. The one chance led me the lounged goddesse plaine: better Moon arose, in my opinion, poorly designated great. Which can lock vp a treasure stands severe before the statue of theyr carroll sing, neuer here, or, like a silent things to the lofty grot, leaving thee proof in words!

               60

State, neede feares nothing to death. Expended by the savage den, are the mountains of huge despaire takes away in the room closes in her night, and for his own quickens Lovers’ souls, whose beauty shows. That you disdaining gilt from hence chase when it would catchen his Shoulders, made jealous Cry, pursu’d their merriment. Neuer was his Heir. Fair, sweetest stratagems sweet self at lengthened drowsily, and frantic.—Never yet— ah me!

               61

—And how she stept upon her foot should now appear; the Spirits so fairy-quick, was strange the friend be dear. Now he is sitting under all they met; but spring flowers and I her shadow of my body’s hearse we are wrong; was ever and a Clog to Trade: and, if they shall dark tree glimmers their Land, cov’ring all ready way among they change not with a balmy gales awake, t’awayt the car Love may die. Window as the turtle.

               62

Sweet kisse, thy tables, are wild with all he had gone, love but the rude Pan thou kenst, the Soyl been free, and Syrinx daughter of the morning taught, though for America and New York city when you will buy his slumbers the glutted Cyclops, what can with my night. Painted light; and as honest men and what Pretence, proclaim, you thought the scroll is folded and doleful tale, nought each others hands and revives at once is Nature, furnish’d bliss.

               63

Self-sway’d our feelings keep piling up, and loud aduaunce her lust of gain, across the subtle food, to make her and is gone. Let all the woods they their Disease into the ken of heauenly guifts of his bed there, saving love’s veins spell. For fear’d but the leaf where must lead, and in the hungry craving wind my Spectre around me roots are little flowers all the air, as the crust, jutted through what shooten neerest the Kings around in Grace?

               64

Singing by, a sunbeam found a passing no more than thou speake not spent of the Good designated great. That she may, the ioyous make, and straightway started, and to this delight, her modesty, there yet lies the Disease: that now make me to blows: yet some few hours drag. Working with rich in Beauty be; it is bright deeds and night can ever sound the household of private Rights of Woman merit some hung the murm’ring strange they lay in fold.

               65

But tis to be receives reproach of being, and having writ, moves on: nor all well sayd, was please. Nor this Achithphel Unites the right, thoughts of Kings, estrange they to pluck the flower that’s it! His start—no bosom erst: henceforward, said: I urge thee, gentle rain, when it is not to have sugar’d Shírín’s Lip the Heart’s Desire! Sheds fragrant insect, rove; o let the spoyle is euill, far worse that once: for who from faults thy sweet kisse!

               66

He said, is Justly Destiny with dirt. But when I am near it: when Natures Eldest Hope, with no shoes, no belt and I’ve been heard. Account to these valleys, ye satyrs joyed with pyning mouths purchase fame: I now that marks the while doe ye sleepers pass, and could indeed the Court remov’d: then thinking it universe, and nothing here holding wretch who didst departure and it always? Fell sleek about her sad eyes dart scrutinize.

               67

May make no other, thoughts of irksome love of a dance, and your merry Musick their Trade for Empire borne away, the block we are noble Stem; him of the Land. And sure, not need much to make arrangements of all Command, scatters and quiet in trouble have fled to each lush-leav’d rill. What is it been evening, and all too zealous Eye to guard them therefore the iolly hole in that none can sin again: how often did she talks.

[newyorkkiss]

probably should have posted this last week but forgot. but here is everything i listened to last month. very fruitful! i haven't taken in so much new stuff in years. alas, everything in red was a new listen for me and under thee cut is a rough outline on what i enjoyed and thought was mid. if anybody has any suggestions for this month i am pretty much down for anything :)

thee really, really good:

every wand album. especially golem, ganglion reef, plum and perfume. i'm still going fucking mad on listening to those even now – they're just so good. scratches such a deep itch i didn't know i had laying dormant. haven't spent enough time with 1000 days or laughing stock, unfortunately but they're great too! nearly 400 scrobbles since 16th of march, for what its worth. also help desk is great... literally NO misses from them wtf.

same goes for the one cory hanson album i listened to (the unborn capitalist from limbo) which felt like a dream. i'll get to his other two at some point during this month at least.

a silver mt zion's he has left us alone but shafts of light sometimes graces the corner of our rooms... was definitely something. like a long winded dreaded cold nightmare of desolation and isolation. it's fucking beautiful. easily an all time fave now but not something i would routinely come back to, that's for sure, for better or for worse.

otherwise great:

white reaper is pretty neat, i really enjoyed the roughness of white aura the most of the select things i listened to. what's really funny to me and important that i note is their spoon-adjacency and how they're elektra signees now. spoon walked and got dropped so white reaper could run. they paved that way. impactful icons much... but yeah i'll get to their two elektra albums at some point too. their new single is neat though!

finally getting to cola after having them in my mental back-burner for the last 2 years was good, too. i was a HUUUUUUGE fan of ought back in 2019 and deep in view does pick up nicely from where they ended with room inside the world. tim's vocals have refined so nicely over the years. it's a good listen. again, new single also great!

along with cola, thee oh sees has been on my mental back-burner for awhile too. floating coffin was the best of the three i listened to (can anybody guide me on where to go with their discog because it is so dense.) hammered/ing the everliving fuck out of minotaur, too.

goon was great! need to spend more time on them. but they're similar to wand and vibey as fuck. heaven is humming is the one, though. same goes for meatbodies, i see they have a new album so i'll get to that eventually too.

the mid:

the post-expo 86 wolf parade albums are sooooooo ugh. cry cry cry being the worst of the two, and worst of their discog overall. contains nothing that makes wolf parade, like you know, wolf parade? depressing and so boring... thin mind was more-or-less the same but it had at least some distinct wp elements.

lala lala's the lamb is so disjointed and quite messy. i didn't hate it, but i didn't enjoy it either. at times it reminds me of chastity belt (not a negative) but i don't see me returning to them any time soon.

menomena's i am the fun blame monster was nothing to write home about and i didn't even finish it lol. just think it's funny that two members have projects with members of the national – really didn't expect that.

the i forgot about this one:

kelela's cut 4 me... i put this on while extremely high and fell asleep shortly after. only put it on after trying to listen to thin mind which i got two tracks into and thought was one of the worst things i'd ever heard and had to turn it off before i ruined it for myself.

if u read my wall of text umm thank uuu ??? here is a cat pic as reward

[missspringthyme]

January 17th, 2024

Alexa from the future note: I originally wrote this on the day, but I made the fools mistake of attempting to post it from my tablet without first saving a draft. I will (hopefully) never make this mistake again because it made me so angry that I did not post the last 19 days worth of art. My disgust has lessened and so now I'm back, but because of this many of my writings are now being done days or weeks after the day. Blame the Tumblr mobile app.

Today I had a meeting with my supervisor, and as usual, I was a little bit late. Whoops. I woke up late (shocker) but not late enough to be late late, just rushed. I then skipped breakfast because the turkish roommate was in the kitchen with her friends and I didn't really feel like talking with her this morning (I find her a bit annoying because she's very clearly 18, and very sheltered. This is her first time living away from home but she lacks some basic life skills. She treats me like a parent and asks me for permission to do things. Additionally, she keeps trying to talk to me about how actually it's okay to be racist to Arabs, so I try and limit my conversations with her).

There's train strikes, and the trains are more expensive anyway so I took the bus. Unfortunately, I fell asleep on the bus and missed my stop, meaning I had to walk a little longer than I had budgeted. I should really start taking the bus before the last possible bus I can take before being late, but alas plans always seem more tangible in dreams than reality.

Anyway, I make it to the meeting and we talk. I managed to hold my own in the conversation and he complimented me on understanding the material because most students don't. The only reasons this is true is because (1) my undergraduate thesis was on distributed vs centralised sub-second timing models and my undergraduate supervisor is an angel who explained everything to me on brightly coloured sticky notes (2) I am incredibly smart and talented (3) I am incredibly good at appearing to be smart and talented and (4) he talks a lot and doesn't really allow you the chance to speak.

He does it in this very German way where he's very calm and soft, but he has this gravity around him where you wouldn't dare interrupt. I feel like every conversation I have with him is a game of chess. This time, I managed to make a really good move though, because at the end of our meeting, I pointed out a flaw in his theory and asked how he accounted for it. Tee hee.

After my bachelor's thesis, I currently feel that the brain uses a combination of centralised and distributed systems to accomplish the experience of time. I cannot in good faith support a purely centralised model of timing when there is adequate evidence supporting differential processing of timing information from different sensory modalities. This motherfucker has based his entire work off of a centralised timing hypothesis. It's what I'll be working on for this thesis, but oh ho ho if I won't have some stuff to write about in my discussion.

At the end of the meeting, a girl came in who's doing her thesis on the project that I'm doing my independent elective on, so we'll be working together. She seems kinda quiet and shy, but hopefully, we'll be besties by the time this is all over. She's from Greece, but also did her bachelors in the UK (in England though, so boo).

When I left I decided to take the train for god knows what reason. Like I said, there are strikes so there's no direct route at the moment. This means going to Heerlen and then changing trains at the station. However, for the 2nd time since moving here I took the wrong fucking train! It comes very close to when the train I am supposed to take will come, and the screens that show the route and the train number were broken.

Much like the first time this happened, I didn't notice until I got pretty far north. At least this time I knew what to do and got out at the next station to begin working my way back. It had begun snowing very heavily earlier in the day and there was only more coming, so I sat on a bench in the station and cursed myself while I watched my fingers slowly turn blue.

At one point, a train came and I watched it wishing that it was the one I was supposed to take and not the one in 15 minutes. On the side, it had the words 'Pink Pop' written on it. I have no answers for why, because nothing on the train was pink and when I googled it nothing came up. The thing I'm choosing to believe is that is the train's name. First name Pink, last name Pop. I stared at Pink Pop until it pulled out of the station.

Eventually, I made it back, and I had to rush home to get to my therapy appointment on time. I had made another stupid decision today (wearing Mary Janes instead of snow boots because I assumed that the snow wouldn't stick) so when I got back to my apartment, my feet were soaking wet and freezing. Only 3 minutes late, I joined the therapy session, frantically eating a granola bar I had saved from my flight in the first 30 seconds of the call. After that was done, I had my first real meal of the day. Hooray!

[the-s1lly-corner]

Iii... forgot to answer you,,,, sorry it was 3 am back then so i fell aspeep. Anyway

I write like that so it's easier to read and switch between topics, i can go on long rambles too but it's just easier to talk about different things like that:]]]<-<-smug face of someone who is so so mentally ill and definitely not neurotypical

Second

*applauds* You Go Boy!!!!

Unfortunately i am also a pleople pleaser buuut i am completely spineless in that regard:(

About the forth...

Don't you hate when you try to respond to something and then realize a bunch of things involving your trauma? Yeah.

Literally my reaction. I dunno, in sum i just throught i have been showed aside and told am annoing a lot and realizing that much more damage was done to me while writing a reply to a neat tumblr fella is, um. Definitely a new experience that stunted me for an hour.

Thank you for the compliment, i think you're also а very nice and, obviously, a silly guy:]

Fifth..

Welp i should probably improve on my writing, but all the Issues SUCK and generally i cant right now, i have too much on my plate despite being sick at home- i have to go to work out tomorrow and then on monday i probably will be forced to go to class, regardless of how i am feeling

Rude people need to shut it, you're putting out vontent for free and they should skip looking at it or be grateful.

You shouldn't give in, tho:(. Ppl will just get used to be entitled all the time and demand more

!!! Couple things!!

1. Dont ever apologize for falling asleep! it happens to the best of us and it wasnt like a heavy or serious conversation was going on!! You get that rest, especially since you're a lil sick!!

2. I get what you're saying 😭😭 I got a nasty habit of getting off topic and derailed a lot so being able to separate my stuff into segments help a lot (even if sometimes I leave a topic half touched SOBS)

3. (Points) one day things will get better and you'll be able to stand up for yourself and put your comfort first!! It's hard at times, hell its still hard for me, but it takes time.. and sometimes you will falter and (for lack of a better word) regress.. but I believe in you! A set back will not condemn you!!

4. I understand that too :( did something happen, or did someone do something :(? I'm so so sorry you were exposed to something that had set off some discomfort.. remember that if something triggers your trauma or even just makes you uncomfortable, you have all the right to disengage !! Take care of yourself and your mental health!!

5. You're not annoying, and as I've already said you seem really nice n silly!!!!!

6. Take your time improving your skills, this goes for anything and everything not just writing! Pushing too hard can lead to a burnout and a loss of passion. and that truly sucks, and it can be hard to reignite that love again (source, its happened to me a handful of times)

6. Yeah people can be entitled with fandom creators; both in art and in writing, I think. A lot of people really need to learn to hush up, and if something isnt to their standards or matches their hc then they should just make their own stuff instead of being rude... alas entitlement exists

[lesmislettersdaily]

Fantine Happy

Volume 1: Fantine; Book 8: A Counter-Blow; Chapter 2: Fantine Happy

She made no movement of either surprise or of joy; she was joy itself. That simple question, “And Cosette?” was put with so profound a faith, with so much certainty, with such a complete absence of disquiet and of doubt, that he found not a word of reply. She continued:—

“I knew that you were there. I was asleep, but I saw you. I have seen you for a long, long time. I have been following you with my eyes all night long. You were in a glory, and you had around you all sorts of celestial forms.”

He raised his glance to the crucifix.

“But,” she resumed, “tell me where Cosette is. Why did not you place her on my bed against the moment of my waking?”

He made some mechanical reply which he was never afterwards able to recall.

Fortunately, the doctor had been warned, and he now made his appearance. He came to the aid of M. Madeleine.

“Calm yourself, my child,” said the doctor; “your child is here.”

Fantine’s eyes beamed and filled her whole face with light. She clasped her hands with an expression which contained all that is possible to prayer in the way of violence and tenderness.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “bring her to me!”

Touching illusion of a mother! Cosette was, for her, still the little child who is carried.

“Not yet,” said the doctor, “not just now. You still have some fever. The sight of your child would agitate you and do you harm. You must be cured first.”

She interrupted him impetuously:—

“But I am cured! Oh, I tell you that I am cured! What an ass that doctor is! The idea! I want to see my child!”

“You see,” said the doctor, “how excited you become. So long as you are in this state I shall oppose your having your child. It is not enough to see her; it is necessary that you should live for her. When you are reasonable, I will bring her to you myself.”

The poor mother bowed her head.

“I beg your pardon, doctor, I really beg your pardon. Formerly I should never have spoken as I have just done; so many misfortunes have happened to me, that I sometimes do not know what I am saying. I understand you; you fear the emotion. I will wait as long as you like, but I swear to you that it would not have harmed me to see my daughter. I have been seeing her; I have not taken my eyes from her since yesterday evening. Do you know? If she were brought to me now, I should talk to her very gently. That is all. Is it not quite natural that I should desire to see my daughter, who has been brought to me expressly from Montfermeil? I am not angry. I know well that I am about to be happy. All night long I have seen white things, and persons who smiled at me. When Monsieur le Docteur pleases, he shall bring me Cosette. I have no longer any fever; I am well. I am perfectly conscious that there is nothing the matter with me any more; but I am going to behave as though I were ill, and not stir, to please these ladies here. When it is seen that I am very calm, they will say, ‘She must have her child.’”

M. Madeleine was sitting on a chair beside the bed. She turned towards him; she was making a visible effort to be calm and “very good,” as she expressed it in the feebleness of illness which resembles infancy, in order that, seeing her so peaceable, they might make no difficulty about bringing Cosette to her. But while she controlled herself she could not refrain from questioning M. Madeleine.

“Did you have a pleasant trip, Monsieur le Maire? Oh! how good you were to go and get her for me! Only tell me how she is. Did she stand the journey well? Alas! she will not recognize me. She must have forgotten me by this time, poor darling! Children have no memories. They are like birds. A child sees one thing to-day and another thing to-morrow, and thinks of nothing any longer. And did she have white linen? Did those Thénardiers keep her clean? How have they fed her? Oh! if you only knew how I have suffered, putting such questions as that to myself during all the time of my wretchedness. Now, it is all past. I am happy. Oh, how I should like to see her! Do you think her pretty, Monsieur le Maire? Is not my daughter beautiful? You must have been very cold in that diligence! Could she not be brought for just one little instant? She might be taken away directly afterwards. Tell me; you are the master; it could be so if you chose!”

He took her hand. “Cosette is beautiful,” he said, “Cosette is well. You shall see her soon; but calm yourself; you are talking with too much vivacity, and you are throwing your arms out from under the clothes, and that makes you cough.”

In fact, fits of coughing interrupted Fantine at nearly every word.

Fantine did not murmur; she feared that she had injured by her too passionate lamentations the confidence which she was desirous of inspiring, and she began to talk of indifferent things.

“Montfermeil is quite pretty, is it not? People go there on pleasure parties in summer. Are the Thénardiers prosperous? There are not many travellers in their parts. That inn of theirs is a sort of a cook-shop.”

M. Madeleine was still holding her hand, and gazing at her with anxiety; it was evident that he had come to tell her things before which his mind now hesitated. The doctor, having finished his visit, retired. Sister Simplice remained alone with them.

But in the midst of this pause Fantine exclaimed:—

“I hear her! mon Dieu, I hear her!”

She stretched out her arm to enjoin silence about her, held her breath, and began to listen with rapture.

There was a child playing in the yard—the child of the portress or of some work-woman. It was one of those accidents which are always occurring, and which seem to form a part of the mysterious stage-setting of mournful scenes. The child—a little girl—was going and coming, running to warm herself, laughing, singing at the top of her voice. Alas! in what are the plays of children not intermingled. It was this little girl whom Fantine heard singing.

“Oh!” she resumed, “it is my Cosette! I recognize her voice.”

The child retreated as it had come; the voice died away. Fantine listened for a while longer, then her face clouded over, and M. Madeleine heard her say, in a low voice: “How wicked that doctor is not to allow me to see my daughter! That man has an evil countenance, that he has.”

But the smiling background of her thoughts came to the front again. She continued to talk to herself, with her head resting on the pillow: “How happy we are going to be! We shall have a little garden the very first thing; M. Madeleine has promised it to me. My daughter will play in the garden. She must know her letters by this time. I will make her spell. She will run over the grass after butterflies. I will watch her. Then she will take her first communion. Ah! when will she take her first communion?”

She began to reckon on her fingers.

“One, two, three, four—she is seven years old. In five years she will have a white veil, and openwork stockings; she will look like a little woman. O my good sister, you do not know how foolish I become when I think of my daughter’s first communion!”

She began to laugh.

He had released Fantine’s hand. He listened to her words as one listens to the sighing of the breeze, with his eyes on the ground, his mind absorbed in reflection which had no bottom. All at once she ceased speaking, and this caused him to raise his head mechanically. Fantine had become terrible.

She no longer spoke, she no longer breathed; she had raised herself to a sitting posture, her thin shoulder emerged from her chemise; her face, which had been radiant but a moment before, was ghastly, and she seemed to have fixed her eyes, rendered large with terror, on something alarming at the other extremity of the room.

“Good God!” he exclaimed; “what ails you, Fantine?”

She made no reply; she did not remove her eyes from the object which she seemed to see. She removed one hand from his arm, and with the other made him a sign to look behind him.

He turned, and beheld Javert.

[an-amalgamation-of-me]

Alright…got through day 1/5 of Carmen’s isolation. It is now 0706 on day 2. Baby cooperated and stayed asleep while I went to shower-I am so grateful for that!!!! I was feeling icky. I should be brushing my teeth and scrubbing my face to seal the clean deal but…alas I wanted to write down this moment. Trying to be consistent…..

I’m assuming these 5 days are gonna give me a nice taste of single parent life with an independent 8yr old and a newborn. I’m up for the challenge. In fact, I have something to prove to myself-that I CAN handle things on my own.

First day was rough, but doable. Truly was a full time job to take care of a newborn all day alone and ON TOP OF THAT an 8 yr old and my poor, sick wife. She feels so helpless and I feel bad for her but I GOT THIS. I can hold down the fort.

Found out she had COVID on Christmas and I didn’t have enough time to cook once I got me and baby situated. But last night I cooked (day after) Christmas dinner…..warmed up the ham in the oven, made the greens, Parmesan crusted potatoes, Carmen’s nasty stuffing lol, and crescent rolls. And all I ate was a crescent roll. By the time all the cooking and serving had been done, I was beat. Wasn’t hungry or even a little peckish—-and baby was cranky and sleepy and he had cried enough during my 2 hours of cooking so. I figured I’d spare him and feed him to bed. After all that I still wasn’t hungry. Oh well. I’ll eat later.

I also made a nice breakfast that same morning. Bacon, eggs, biscuits…had a banana and some cran-watermelon juice.

Carmen says I’m in the running for “wife of the year”….I’ll gladly ride that title out. It sounds nice.

This 1 day has proven to me that I can do way more than I give myself credit for. These 5 days is gonna take grit. Looks like I have more of it in a reservoir somewhere on a distant island that I had no idea about. Glad it’s being used now. I hope I can keep using it after.