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lightwing-s · 1 year ago

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𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐈

pairing: dick grayson x reader; jason todd x reader

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

a/n: we've created a tradition, 2023 ver. here

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃

"You need to kiss someone at midnight!” said one of the girls sitting on the crowded sofa, the group around her, boys and girls halfway drunk on cheap champagne, erupted in screams and laughter, fighting over the validity of certain superstitions and who’d get to kiss who in the group. “The pagans say it’s for good luck.”

The discussion never ceased, getting louder as spirits were running high. Amongst the loud group, you stood out. Sitting quietly with a drink in hand, a beaming smile adorning your face, laughing at whatever what he assumed were your girl friends said, you caught Jason’s eyes. You’d done so from the moment he entered the apartment.

You wore a sparkly outfit, a little black dress full of sequins that reflected the poor lighting of the room but that was still unable to outshine your natural beauty. He watched you attentively, entertained by your joy and enamored with the sound of your laughter.

Your eyes had met a few times since his arrival, briefly, shyly, sharing quiet smiles and a few winks, a secret interaction you hoped no one else had noticed but you. Not out of embarrassment, but from wanting it to be uniquely yours.

Jason had been under actual spells before, under the uncomfortable power of Ivy’s pollen. This was different, because nothing forced him to look at you, he simply wanted to. He wasn’t a shy man, never backing out of talking with a pretty lady, but tonight he decided to wait, wait for the right moment to reach you, to talk to you, to know your name. He didn’t want to intrude in your moment with your friends, but most importantly, he didn’t want your friends intruding in your moment.

So he waited, sat aside on a dark corner, like a villain in a scary movie, chatting bullshit with a friend he barely knew but who had insisted on him coming to his apartment tonight, as he knew Jason wouldn’t go anywhere else for New Year’s Eve, preferring to sulk in his own solitude for the night.

He didn’t expect anything from tonight, planning to go home after the clock striked 00:00 and the champagne bottles were popped. He certainly did not expect to meet a pretty girl that had him hooked on the first exchange of glances, but he was glad he took his time to come.

A few other girls had come to him, some showing their deep cleavages, others just trying to start a conversation, but they didn’t last long once they realized he only had his eyes out for you.

He noticed your group of friends leave the sofa, entering the kitchen in search of more drinks, but you stayed there, sitting in the same spot you’d been all night, watching your friends disappear into another room. Then, turning your head slowly, your eyes met his, and he took it as his key to finally approach you.

Throwing himself beside you on the sofa, his arm immediately went to its back and you leaned closer, trying to hear him better between all the screaming and the loud music.

“Jason.” he sort of screamed-whispered in your ear, extending his left hand for you to shake.

“Yn.” you took his hand in yours, shaking quickly before returning the hold to your cup.

“Stopped drinking tonight?” he asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

“What?!” you screamed, not hearing him clearly.

He came closer to you, the hand that shook yours coming to rest on your tight, and his lips brushing against your neck as he repeated himself into your ear. “I asked if you had stopped drinking tonight.”

“No!” you laughed. “They went looking for vodka, I guess. I’m sticking to champagne tonight.”

“Did you enjoy the bottle they were passing around?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Did you not like it?” you asked in return.

“It’s alright.” he shrugged, leaning back on the sofa and bringing his drink to his lips.

The music softened, a few complaints thrown around, the majority of the people taking this time to fish for more drinks in the kitchen or wherever they were.

Learning against the sofa too, head falling back to rest, your shoulder touched Jason’s and you could feel the electricity running through you.

“Mikey’s friend?” you asked him, trying to understand where this stranger had come from.

“Sorta.” he simply replied.

“Oh! We have ourselves a mysterious man.” you laughed again, and Jason hoped you wouldn’t stop.

“Do you like it? Or you prefer something more… nerdy? Or do you want me to act like a jock from a teen rom com. I can do it all, you know.” if possible, your laughing just got louder, throwing your head back and bringing the smirk back to Jason’s face.

“Nah. I love it.” you answered when your laughing stopped and your breathing had settled. “Makes me want to know more about you.”

The loud bang on a door broke brought your attention away, your friends making their way back to the sofa, full drinks in hand and a bottle of vodka being carried by one of them. Jason saw some eyebrow wiggles at you, teasing smiles and bumps on your shoulder, all of it making your cheeks flush pink and your eyes to divert to the almost empty cup on your hand.

He watched your thumb playing with the lipstick stained glass and your teeth nibble at your bottom lip. He admired your soft makeup, perfectly melting into your skin and not hiding your natural beauty he had come to love. A small stain of lipstick stood on your chin, maybe because of your drinking, and he couldn't hold the urge, his thumb cleaning it away for you.

“Two minutes till New Year’s!” someone announced over the music, the crowd getting excited, people looking for their friends or unopened champagne bottles.

“Do your friends have anyone to kiss at midnight?” Jason asked, and he caught a glimpse of disappointment in your eyes.

“I don’t know.” you replied, eyes wide in question. He only shook his head.

“Do you?”

“I don’t know.” you repeated your previous answers, earning a questioning look from him that made you laugh again a little. “Do I?”

“The thing is, Yn.” he started speaking and turned to face him properly, knees bumping into each other’s. He licked at his lips, and your mind replayed the way he had pronounced your name. He placed a loose strand of hair behind your ear and his fingertips touched your neck, a shiver emanating from there to your entire body. “I’m not a very patient guy. I don’t think I can wait until midnight.”

Leaning in, his lips caught yours as his hands held your waist. The butterflies partied in your stomach, and you leaned further into him, bringing his face closer as you felt his tongue slid inside your mouth.

“It’s not even fucking midnight, Yn!” someone screamed, the room turning to look at you both, but your mind too focused on the kiss to even notice.

His other hand went to your neck, playing with the hairs in there, making you moan into his mouth, the sound making him excited and more eager to continue kissing you.

At some point, happy new years were exchanged, champagne bottles were popped, other kisses were given along with tight hugs and laughter. Still, Jason’s lips were glued to yours, a perfect dance you did not want to stop.

Going into 2024 with your lips on his wasn’t on Jason New Year’s Eve plans, but he made sure to add them to his resolutions: to kiss you passionately, deeply, for as long as he can, for as long as his breathing allows him, for the entire year if you let him to, because he didn’t believe much in destiny but he was sure it wanted him there, on New Year’s day, sitting on a sofa beside the prettiest girl the room, her lips stuck on his, and a thousand possibilities to turn this moment into the first of many you’d share along 2024.

𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

He heard wishes of “happy new year!” as the first fireworks exploded above the sea. Families, friends and couples erupting in joyful bursts of happiness and laughter, celebrating the beginning of the year with hope and excitement..

Dick wasn’t one of them. No, tonight wasn’t perfect. Not like it used to feel.

The arms wrapped tightly around his waist certainly didn’t feel perfect, and neither did the head resting on his chest. He watched the fireworks illuminating the night sky, reflecting on the water, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he wondered if you too were watching the scenery.

The guilt was eating at his chest, the words you’d told him earlier still lingering in his mind. There was a lump in his throat, he knew he’d screwed things up, that he ruined your favorite night of the year, your favorite holiday, and consequently, his too.

It hurt even more now that he recognized that you were not wrong, that you didn’t lie.

“How did you forget to tell me, Dick? Today is New Year’s Eve, we’ve always spent it together.” you reminded him, staring at him through the mirror he fixed his collar on. “Why are you like this, huh? Why do you never put me first, even for one day?” “It’s always like this. You find a new girl, you forget about me. Yn does not exist anymore, and if she does, she’s just your shadow, your umbrella holder while you cozy up to some slut you won’t care anymore in a few months.” “It’s not that important? Fuck you, Dick! Fuck you, fuck you! It was our day, our tradition, to watch the fireworks at the beach together, to make wishes to the stars and countless other traditions we’ve had since we were teenagers… You’ve continuously neglected what I want, put me aside to fulfill your wishes, and I’m always okay, because I fucking love you. But when it comes to me… Forget it. You just made me realize none of this is worth it.”

He still remembered the sound your voice made when you told him you loved him, how it cracked, how your chin trembled and your eyes filled with tears. He had put you aside for countless others when you’d always, always, stood by him. It was your tradition, and he had broken it.

Two hands slid up his chest, coming together behind his neck, forcing him to finally look down, after avoiding it’s presence for as long as he could. “Happy New Year, Dickie.” she said, plump lips painted red, reaching for his, reaching for a kiss, but he couldn’t do it.

No. It wasn’t perfect.

“I’m sorry.” he told the girl, removing her hands from his body. She looked at him confused, as he apologized once more.

Turning on his heel, feeling the sand underneath his feet, Dick ran. Ran somewhere he didn’t know to, somewhere he hoped he’d find you.

He screamed your name, praying you’d hear him and call him back, call his name as you always did when you met him in the crowd. A toothy smile on your lips that reached your eyes, a sight he never realized he loved, that he’d miss if you were gone, too dumb, too much of an idiot, to realize.

He counted all the things you could’ve done already, checking your list of nye’s traditions that never cease to surprise him. Every year you’d bring something new, something fun, and he would follow along and watching you complete each one of them made him happy.

But you always said it wasn’t perfect. That something was missing. Every year, there was this one thing you couldn’t complete but you never told him what it was.

“Yn.” he screamed to the crowd, gaining side looks from some of the people around.

“Dick.” someone called back, but it wasn’t you. “What are you doing?”

“Tim, have you seen Yn?” he asked, almost breathless.

“You didn’t come with her?” he asked in return, eyes jolting out, incredulous of the words leaving his brother's mouth. Dick could only shake his head. “Dude.” he finished disapprovingly.

Tim wasn’t much of a help, not knowing if you were still at the beach, but at least now he was sure you’d come.

Of course you would, he thought. You’d never break a tradition.

He was sure he’d crossed to the other end of the sandy and pretty crowded beach. This year many more people came to enjoy the best “secret” new year’s party in the city, a secret you’d kept for years but that was slowly becoming more popular.

You hate it. It was our place, I don’t want anyone else in it.

Letting out a chuckle, he remembered you pout as you let those words out. If only he had listened to them then.

He was almost giving up, the number of people diminishing with each step he took further in the sands. The groups fizzled out, just a few here and there now, long ignoring the still ongoing, god knows for how long, firework show, now too focused on drinks and gossip.

But then an oddity caught his eyes.

Someone alone, quietly watching the show of colors in the night. He had found you.

Even at a distance, he could see the colors reflecting in your eyes, watery and enamored as they were every year. You had your hands glued to your body, caressing the cold away as you dared to wear a sleeveless shirt this deep into winter.

He froze. The lump, the tightness in his throat, returning to torture him. He wanted to cry, get on his knees and beg you to forgive him. But he was too scared. Too scared you’d say no, because you should.

“Yn.” he whispered, hoping you wouldn’t hear.

You didn’t. You stayed in the same position, now staring at the moon as the fireworks had stopped, but he knew you’d love to stare at the moon even more.

Slowly, you stared at your feet, toes playing with the sand. Then, to his surprise, you looked to your side. You looked straight at him, he could swear your bore deep within his eyes, and all he could do was stare in return.

“D?” he saw you mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m so sorry.”

Your head dipped to the side, and he watched your chin shaking again. His heart started to break, but soon enough, you were running into his arms.

Dick didn’t know that all night, you’d hoped you hadn’t told him anything. That the “I love you” hadn’t slipped out of your mouth, preferring to never have him fully than to never have him at all.

Although your heart was broken, seeing him tonight meant your friendship was not. And you could settle for this. You cried in his chest, tears staining his dress shirt. “Please don’t cry, please, please. I’m so fucking stupid for hurting you.”

His hands held the back of your head, caressing your hairs as you recomposed yourself, He listened to your breathing become steady, your cheek resting on his chest, arms wrapped around his torso. Perfect.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and you looked up, your chin on his chest. His watery eyes still visible under the moonlight, you dried the tears from under his eyes. “I was stupid, a moron. I didn’t realize what I’d done. I didn’t realize you were the best thing to ever happen to me, and that I was pushing it all away.

“It’s okay,” you replied softly, snuggling back into his chest. “We’ll be alright.”

Breathing deeply, Dick held your face up to meet him again. “Yn…”

“Dick.” you cut him, wanting all this pain to just be over. He smiled at you, thumb drawing patterns on your cheek.

“Did you finish your list?” he inquired.

“No.”

Again, you didn’t. Dick never understood why. “You never told me what was missing.”

Staring deeply into his eyes, you found the courage to finally tell him. “A midnight kiss.”

It caught him by surprise, but it made him see everything clearly.

“Yn.” he called you, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips.

“Hmm.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, heart beating faster than it's ever done, not even the sprint on the beach making it go this quickly.

“It’s the thing I wanted.”

Pulling your face to his, you had to stand on your tiptoes to finally meet his lips. It was a slow kiss, lips melting together, fitting each other as if they were… perfect. Like you’d always dreamed of. It sets the butterflies in your stomach afire, your heart to stop beating, the world to stop spinning. You lost air, you lost your mind, you lost yourself within him.

You’d finally completed your list, you’d finally made your new year’s day perfect.

a/n: to all of you who made my 2023 very special, a happy new year and a blessed 2024 ♡

#dick grayson fluff #dick grayson angst #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson blurb #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x yn #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine #jason todd blurb #jason todd x y/n #jason todd #dick grayson #happy new year

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andreafmn · 1 year ago

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Kinktober ⛓️ Day 12

Word Count: 2.4K Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Costumes WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), oral (female receving), dom/sub subtext, p-in-v sex

Summary: Spencer's love for Halloween knows no bounds. He plans his costume weeks in advance, he hosts parties at his apartment, and decorates everything, even his desk at work. (Y/N), on the other hand, couldn't care less. But for Spencer, she'd do anything. Even if he goes incommunicado during a case.

A/N: I'm trying my best to get back on track, but life... this past weekend really killed all my writing inspo. Food poisoning is no joke.

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All Hallows Eve was a day that Spencer Reid enjoyed to no end. A day when anyone could be whatever they wanted, hiding behind masks and costumes. There was a thrill to seeing people let out a side they normally would keep hidden. Between the spooky decorations, the scary movies, and all the terrifying marketing surrounding the holiday, Spencer couldn’t think what the best part was.

Unfortunately for the young doctor, no one in his close circle shared his love for Halloween. Not even his girlfriend, (Y/N). Having grown up in a very religious family, she missed out on all the fun of being a child during the holiday and had found it too much work for one day in her adult years. Meeting Spencer had only made her excited about movies and candy, but her enjoyment never reached Reid level.

After two years of relationship, though, (Y/N) thought it was time to put in a little effort for her boyfriend’s favorite holiday. While he was away on a case, she decked out their apartment with cobwebs, skeletons, and anything else she could find. She changed lights to colored lightbulbs, changed beddings and decor pillows, and even went as far as to buy a costume. It wasn’t clever or scary, but she had to admit, it made her look unbelievably good.

It had been a week since she had decorated the apartment, and Spencer still wasn’t back. And with Halloween day approaching, she was growing discouraged at all her work. So much invested for no one to enjoy it, she thought.

At least she had somewhere to wear her costume to. Her coworkers had invited her out to a bar on the eve of Halloween where they would give out a round of free drinks to anyone who came in costume, and maybe she had never gotten the chance to go trick or treating, but she didn’t mind free drinks. Maybe Spencer wasn’t home yet, but there was no reason she couldn’t have some fun.

She had slipped on her green vine short dress, accompanied by a red wig and knee-high boots, and her Poison Ivy costume was complete. With her friends, she danced and drank, ate and sang, pushing her worries and concerns to the deepest corners of her mind. If Spencer didn’t feel the need to call, she didn’t feel the need to leave another single voicemail. (Y/N) would have fun and forget that it had been three days since her boyfriend had felt the need to check in.

Hours passed, and finally, she felt the urge to go home. She was already sobering up, and the loud music and chattering were getting to her. Her costume gripped at her sweat-covered body, and her wig made her scalp itch. It all made her wonder how people could endure being dressed that way for more than a night.

With sleep heavy in her bones, (Y/N) turned the key to her apartment’s door. Her cold and lonely bed was calling for her, and she would answer.

“Spence,” she gasped as she noticed the figure standing in the middle of the dimly lit living room. “You’re back.”

“I am,” he chuckled softly. “And I owe you an apology. I didn’t have cell reception those last couple of days, and I didn’t get a chance to send an email, baby. I know it’s no excuse, but I did try to call you as soon as we landed, but you weren’t answering.”

“My phone died. I was out,” she said matter-of-factly. “Some friends invited me out for drinks.”

“And you went out in costume?” he smirked.

“Costumes got us a couple of free rounds,” she shrugged. “It was supposed to be a surprise for you. I went through all the effort of decorating the apartment and inviting our friends over for tomorrow night. But I was mad you weren’t answering, so I decided to use my costume tonight.”

“I really am sorry,” Spencer said, slowly closing the distance between them. “And for the record, you look ravishing as Poison Ivy.”

“I looked better a couple of hours ago,” she pouted, crossing her arms around his neck as he snaked his onto her waist. “Now I’m all sweaty and tired. But I am relieved that you’re finally home.”

“I’m home, and I’m really, really sorry,” he smirked, kissing her softly before whispering in her ear, “and you are making me very hard.”

“Are you serious, Reid?” (Y/N) chuckled. “The only reason I didn’t think you were dead was because no agents had come to our door yet. And I find you here, after days of no communication, and you’re telling me you’re turned on?”

“What can I say, baby?” he grinned mischievously. “Something about you in this costume is doing things to me.”

“So a cheap wig and a green dress is all it takes to get you in the mood, huh?” she snickered. “That’s good to know, baby.”

“With or without a costume, you can get me hard in a second, (Y/N).”

“Doctor,” she gasped as he kneaded the skin of her ass. “You’re being quite riské.”

“I am in my home. With my beautiful girlfriend. Surrounded by amazing Halloween decorations. And an erection that is making these pants more uncomfortable than normal.”

“You’re so dirty when no one can see you,” she teased, kissing him and taking his bottom lip between her teeth. “What do you think your coworkers would think if they knew their resident boy-wonder was a dirty, dirty boy in private?”

“They don’t need to know,” Spencer smirked, his hands running up and down her body, feeling her curves under her dress. “There is only one person that I care about who knows how I am in the privacy of my home, and she already does.”

“You’re right about that,” (Y/N) sighed contentedly. “But I’m tired tonight. I was thinking of heading into bed.”

“And waste this masterpiece you have on?”

“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise for my boyfriend, but he kind of wasn’t returning my calls, so I spent all my energy tonight,” she sighed. (Y/N) wanted to tease him, though. If he wanted to take her to bed that night, she would make him work for it. She ran her hand across his bulge, squeezing his length. “I went out dancing and drinking, so many Batmans and Robins trying to get handsy with me. Even a few Harleys tried it.”

“And why didn’t you go home with any of them?” Spencer asked, his voice strangled as she continued her strokes. “I’m sure they would have definitely answered your calls. Not like that dumb boyfriend of yours.”

“Mmm, well, he’s good where I need him to be,” she grinned, nibbling on his ear until he winced. “Although, I do agree that with how he acted this week, he should be punished.”

“He should,” he panted. “He really should.”

With a devilish grin on her face, (Y/N) pushed Spencer’s body down to the ground so his face was directly in front of her weeping cunt. She spread her legs far enough to fit him between them and pushed his mouth onto her aching bud.

Spencer knew exactly what he had to do after he slid her panties down her legs. As soon as his face was buried between her folds, he stuck out his tongue and got to work. He traveled across her entrance, separating her labia, and landed on her clit. He sucked and lapped, he circled and pulled, all in an effort to hear the enchanting mewls that left her mouth.

One of her hands snaked into his hair, taking a handful of curls tightly between her digits. She pushed his head further into her, cutting off his air, just like he liked. Only when she came around his mouth would he be able to come up.

“Oh, baby, keep going,” she moaned, her grip tightening around his hair. “I’m so fucking close.”

Spencer hummed in approval against her, the vibrations sending shivers through her body. His mouth worked on her as adeptly as always, finding just the right spots to make her quiver under his touch. He could feel his mind growing hazy from the lack of oxygen, but it was only her pleasure that mattered. He has messed up, and he’d do anything to show her how sorry he was.

In moments like those, he was thankful for his training. He could last minutes without his breath. And for her, he would last hours if necessary. He knew (Y/N) would keep him there until she thought it was right; she would go without her climax until she decided his penance was enough.

And minutes that felt like hours were time enough for (Y/N). As Spencer’s jaw grew tight and sore, the woman above him finally let herself unfurl on his tongue, wailing out his name as she came.

“Good boy,” (Y/N) panted, using a finger under his chin to bring him back up to her face. “At least I know you’re good at doing as you’re told. Now, let’s go to the bed. I think you might deserve a treat this Halloween.”

“Will you keep the costume on?” Spencer asked, trailing along behind (Y/N) like a lost puppy. “Please, will you keep it on?”

“It wouldn’t be a treat if I didn’t,” she smirked. “As much as I would love to take this off, I love what it’s doing to you so much more.”

(Y/N) pulled Spencer to their room, letting go of his hand as she laid her body across the bed. After she rested her head on her pillow, she would not move another muscle. Spencer knew that. He knew it was his job to bring her to absolute pleasure. And only when she allowed him to would he join her in the bliss of his climax.

The woman spread her legs just enough to fit her boyfriend between them. Sluggishness was rapidly taking over her, but she fought against the grasp of sleep. It had been a week without him, and she wanted to enjoy every second awake. Well, for as long as her mind would let her.

Although, it wasn’t like Spencer was about to take his time.

With his eyes firmly set on her, Spencer removed his clothing quickly, layer after layer. He didn’t care where they landed. All he cared about was the quickness of his moves. There was a tiredness they both shared, exhaustion from an already long day. But one climax was all he wanted. It was all he needed.

Spencer crawled up her body, careful not to disturb a single leaf on her dress. Once at sue level, he cradled her cheek softly and pressed his lips to hers. He savored the taste of cheap alcohol and mixer with the cherry taste of her lip gloss.

“Baby, hurry up,” (Y/N) muttered against his lips. “I’m not gonna last much longer awake.”

“Your wish is my command,” he chuckled before kissing her again. “I’m close to passing out, too.”

He reached a hand between their legs, grabbing his cock and lining himself up with her entrance before sinking into her warmth. Spencer sighed as he felt her walls hugging him, welcoming his length like he belonged there.

His hips moved slowly into her, calculated and angled. He knew exactly what she needed to reach completion as quickly as possible. On any other night, Spencer would have been striving for longevity. Calculating the best way to make their time last. But at that moment, they wanted good, quick, and easy.

It wasn’t long until they were both panting, the tempo of his thrusts slowly increasing as the minutes passed. A thin sheet of sweat had formed on their skin, glimmering under the soft light of their bedroom lamps. Their breaths and their hearts were synchronized, the moment unifying theme as one.

“You’re close, baby,” (Y/N) chuckled softly. “The vein in your forehead is pulsing.”

“That’s because I’m focused on one thing,” he responded. “And you always make it hard on me.”

“Well, you can always do what you want,” she smirked. “But you know you’ll be punished later.”

“And that’s supposed to be a bad thing, right?”

“It can be.”

“That still sounds good to me.”

“That’s because you’re a sucker for pain, my darling,” (Y/N) snickered. “Now, hurry up and make me cum. Because you can’t until I do.”

With a focused stare sewn into his face, Spencer moved even more determinedly. He propped his body up with one of his arms, using the other to find (Y/N)’s clit, maneuvering the swollen bus until the moans that left her throat were strangled and consistent. He knew every part of her body, and it was impossible for him to forget how to work around them.

Spencer continued his attack, using only some of his strength to hold off the explosion that wanted to exit him. All he needed were a few more thrusts and a few more circlings of his fingers to have her come undone around him.

“Oh, fuck, Spence,” she cried as her back arched away from the bed, her nails digging into the soft skin of his arms. “You can come,” (Y/N) panted. “Go ahead, baby. You can come.”

It was just the instruction he needed to paint her walls white, shooting strand after strand of his seed deep inside her. “I love you, (Y/N),” he panted as he restated his forehead against her. “And I really am sorry for not calling sooner.”

“It’s okay, Spencer,” she smiled softly. One of her hands raised to caress his cheek, pressing her lips tenderly on his. “You made up for it. But the next time, I won’t be so… giving.”

“I would never dare,” he grinned. “Or maybe I would. It’s not like I don’t enjoy my punishments.”

“Oh, you kinky doctor,” she chuckled as she played with a curl that had fallen over his eyes. “Now, help me get out of this costume. It should be illegal to sell something so itchy.”

“But you’ll still wear it tomorrow, right? I mean, it is Halloween day.”

“You and your Halloween fever,” she laughed. “Fine. But you’re gonna clean up the apartment after. November first is officially Christmas.”

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aelinschild · 1 year ago

Text

Season Of Forgiveness

Main Masterlist

Happy Holidays everyone!! I'm a little (Very, sorry!!) late with this post, but this is my gift for the 2023 Rowaelin Secret Santa! Big thank you to @rowaelinscourt for organizing it!! This is dedicated to the lovely @shyvioletcat , I wish you a very merry holiday season, and hopefully you enjoy this absolute monstrosity. I actually do not know what took over me during writing this, but I'm just happy its done.

SYNOPSIS: Holidays are known to be the season of joy, but when that joy is no longer Aelin's, she is forced to find peace in the unknown. WORDCOUNT: 9k GENERAL WARNINGS: Very light one bed trope, mentions of sex, angsty for no reason, swearing, alcohol, arguments, choking and CPR, happy ending dont worry

(A/N: After writing this, I realize it has the same vibe of calling Die Hard a Christmas movie. Granted, I actually didn't finish the movie, but from what I watched, how the fuck is it a Christmas movie?? This is me telling you that this fic is probably like that lol)

Hour One

Fuck.

There was really no other way to put it. Fuck is such a versatile word, situationally. Aelin can recount the times she's moaned out breathy fucks, and the times she's roared them during moronic altercations.

This type of fuck? Certainly not the cathartic type.

This fuck is the sum of all past mistakes in her life, multiplied by her best friend's scheming mind, and then raised to the power of the irrational choice to return to her old university town.

On the queen-sized bed were two plush towels. A robe. Face cloths and minimal toiletries.

Oh, and a fucking red rose.

In Lysandra’s plush apartment – a classic Victorian style, with ivy creeping up the brick fireplace, and stained glass windows at odd intervals – she was the owner of three bedrooms.

And to Aelin's luck, there happened to be two couples staying here this evening. Which meant two of the three bedrooms were now occupied. Mathematically speaking, the two other individuals would each need their own room.

It seems that math slipped Lysandra's mind when she organized her little yearly anniversary Yulemas Eve dinner. How…pleasant.

Chest rising and falling with barely contained frustration, Aelin didn't know whether to yell or cry. Her hand held her overnight bag so tight her knuckles were pressing at the whites. Nails digging into supple skin.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Lysandra had done. But it took a lot of willpower for Aelin to not storm out of the room and choke her friend for the transgression. And just past the blood rushing in her ears, she could hear the friendly greetings of her other friends as they crossed the threshold of Lys’ little home. Welcomed into the warmth of tradition.

Oh, I'm going to kill you, Lysandra.

Aedion and Lys would – obviously – take their master bedroom. Located around a corner and at the end of that hall. Far from where Aelin was. A feature she was grateful for, given Aedion and Lysandra's… healthy love life. And Lorcan and Elide would slip into the downstairs spare room. The one the couple had claimed during the first year of this tradition.

Leaving Aelin, in this spare room with a queen-sized bed and the bloody rose, to bed with Rowan.

Oh, how she loathed her life at this moment. What foul god had she angered to be punished this way. Maybe that same god would derail Rowan’s cab en route. Shucking it into a frozen lake, or something of the like.

Gently brushing over the towels, Aelin traced the other memories this room held.

The queen-sized bed hardly fit her and Rowan, that she knew from experience. His height alone ruined the tucked edges of their duvet, which always ended up on his side of the bed by morning. The pillows would have to be mushed together in the middle so that they would not fall off. And Rowan, he at night would roll around. Restless, even in the deepest hours. He would usually end up on top of Aelin, face along her breasts and hair tickling her chin.

Her fingers moved from the towel to the rose. Plucking it up, she held it at eye level. Studying the contours of the flower, it was beautiful. But Aelin couldn't get past the fact that Lysandra had set this up. And put a godsdamned rose on the towels.

Aelin might just take the couch.

The front door opened and closed again, voices rose up from the entry through the open bedroom door. Aelin began unpacking mechanically. The drawers where she set her clothes were the same as she had for the last decade. The dent on the wall by the left corner was also the same. Seems like Aedion never got around to patching it. Aelin chuckles under her breath, the talking-to she and Rowan had received after denting the wall from a vigorous…activity, would never fail to not make her laugh.

Once the unpacking was complete, only taking a few moments as Aelin wouldn't be staying longer than the night, she took a moment to sit on her side of the bed and breathe.

This would be disastrous. And she had no way of getting out. Unless she jumped from the window to her left.

A decade ago, Aelin and Rowan had met through their friends. Their family. Aedion had bridged the gap by dating her best friend, Lysandra. Their quickly evolving and fiery romance meant that there would no longer be Aelin-Elide-Lys days. Now, they included the Ashryver cousin. Lorcan and Rowan had been over Aedion’s lovesick puppy act and had forcibly inserted themselves into the group. As her cousin rarely left Lysandra's side anymore.

This meant that Aelin and Elide were left to deal with two grumpy college guys. It was like babysitting rocks, who could probably show more emotion than the lot of them. But somehow, somewhere along the line, Elide fell for Lorcan. And when Aelin was forced to watch another friend fall in love, she turned to the only bastard left.

But Aelin and Rowan had always been…different. Difficult entirely. It started as sex. Each of them too busy with their respective degrees to foster any more of a connection.

It worked, and it worked well.

For two years, Aelin was exclusive with Rowan Whitethorn without anyone knowing the depth of their friendship. To her girlfriends, he was the hot guy whom Aelin should really give a chance. To his boys, she was the girl who could obviously help blow off a little steam.

Time stretched out, and steadiness had replaced the need for romantic connection. Post graduation, Rowan and her barely crossed paths anymore, unless the entire group got together. But there still existed an attachment built during years of intimacy – which Aelin never voiced, not wanting to ruin the entire affair by breaking the principle rule of their arrangement. And due to that principle, Rowan had also never expressed any interest above surface-level desire.

She had been left in the dark of his feelings for her, just as she had left him in the dark of hers. They were two polar magnets, separated only by the fear of shattering the fragile closeness built from tentative familiarity. Neither were any good at subtly hinting at something.

When the parallel lines of their lives crossed, ever-diligent Rowan proposed something rather different. Unpredictable.

He offered a relationship.

Looking back, it was hilariously clinical. It wouldn't surprise her if he had stored papers in her bag with a list of what their relationship could entail. Numbered – or alphabetically ordered. Probably about who did what and when hand-holding was allowed. Such a stickler for the rules.

But Rowan had shocked Aelin that night. When she had said yes, fuck it let's give it a chance, and they had gone back to his apartment, there was a bouquet of fragrant red roses placed on the counter. A box of her favourite chocolates beside it. Things she had mentioned in passing, probably after a hook-up. Maybe during a romantic comedy that they would often watch together. Where she’d point out the little things men can do that show a deeper appreciation.

They had cracked open a bottle of wine, and talked for hours under the stars and above the rushing traffic. And it was like peeling back a layer, revealing this steadfast and romantic man. The one who had refiled her glass more than once. Used his hand to cover sharp edges when she leaned around after a few too many drinks. Who had carried her to bed, gently unclasping her stiletto heels and massaging the tired soles of her feet. Who had carefully removed the maxi dress she wore, hanging it up to prevent creases. Then, with permission, undressed her further.

That night hadn't been like before. Aelin wasn't sure she had ever felt that way. Not a blinding, stretching heat or an all-consuming pressure. No, rather a connection. When Rowan had caressed her like a piece of art, she felt revered. Holy. Her skin had tingled with the unfamiliar feeling of adoration.

Breathless whispers and tight holds had conveyed words that were far too new to speak aloud.

That night had been the beginning of a long-standing understanding. The two of them weren't open about their connection. Rather, it was a pleasant slice of life, cut out to fit the shape of two lovers who aimed to navigate the crossroads of their future. And for years they existed peacefully in the space they had made for each other.

Until they couldn't anymore.

The door creaked open, its hinges never oiled. Lysandra was allergic to a chemical in WD-40.

A whoosh of breath came from the entrance, and Aelin’s spine felt the all too familiar tingle of the presence of the man she had loved.

“Aelin,” came the voice, like gravel smoothed by arctic winds. There always existed some sort of unrest under Rowan’s skin. It could be heard in his voice, worn from use. Had she still been his, she would have made him a cup of tea. Extra honey. As he liked.

Humming out a noise of acknowledgement, Aelin turned slightly. Cheeks starting to heat. “Hello, Rowan.” She said, breathlessly.

She watched his throat work. He had gotten leaner since she last saw him. His eyes less bright. Cheeks sunken. His unachievable tan had faded.

He was still the beautiful boy–man, she had always known. Pleasure and pain united, each moment in his presence stole some of her oxygen. She loved him. Loved.

A shrill squeak this time, and a crafty brunette head popped into the doorway. “Ah! Okay! Guess, how many candies are in this jar!” Lysandra asked the both of them. Their moment shattering and instead opening up to accept another's presence. Lysandra was holding a large mason jar filled with red and white peppermint swirl candies.

“Uh,” Rowan scratched the back of his neck. “Two hundred?” Lysandra just snorted and then turned to Aelin.

Aelin studied the jar, fighting to not break out into goosebumps with the feeling of Rowan’s eyes on her. “One hundred…and… forty-three–no! Twenty!”

“Final answer?” Lysandra taunted.

“Yes.”

“Wrong.” She cackled. Turning away and hightailing it down the hall, laughing like she was possessed. “Come downstairs, you losers!”

Hour Two

Aelin had left with no word to Rowan. She couldn't bear it. The wound still so fresh. Instead, she had sauntered by and shut the door gently on her way out. Missing the pleading look in his eyes as she walked away.

“Ae!” Elide shouted at her approach. Aelin couldn't help but smile. As awful as the next eleven hours may be, Aelin was grateful she had her best friends by her side. Lysandra's still on thin ice.

“El! Look at you!” Aelin grabbed a hold of her friend's hand, letting her do a little twirl. The sequined skirt she had on fanned out around her. Reflecting the lights in the room across the walls. “You like our own little mirrorball.”

Elide just let out a soft laugh. Grinning. “Gotta get the party started somehow.” She said. Stepping back she put her arms on Aelin's elbow, holding tight. She made a show of looking around the room, and upon it being clear, Elide looked her right in the eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“For what,” Aelin asked, perplexed.

She gave her a pointed look. “I tried to explain to Lys that she wasn't being fair. It's not fair. I offered to get a hotel room for me and Lorcan, but you know how Aedion is about traditions.” She rolled her eyes. “I realize that this isn't… you know. This was not on the healing plan–”

“Maybe, El, just being with my best friends could be healing. Maybe we switch the healing plan around for a little.” She said softly, speaking from a place of honesty.

Elide’s eyes were misty, and Aelin had to look away. This was a hurt that was deeper than her.

She took a breath, “Okay. But–no I'm serious. Don't look away. If you need anything, anything at all, I'm here. And we can have a little girl meeting with Lys after we put the boys to bed.” She gave a choked laugh.

Aelin nodded. An understanding passing through them both. Everyone knew that tension would be high this evening. Aelin herself knew it would be brutal. Facing her ex at Lys’ annual Yulemas Eve Dinner, a tradition shrouded in love and comfort. But she was eternally grateful for Elide – and Lysandra, but maybe not currently. How she found such caring women would never fail to surprise her.

Elide nodded back, smile and eyes watery. They both let out laughs. This solidarity was something Aelin needed more than she knew.

“Okay, no more tears.” Aelin sniffed, disconnecting their hand-elbow position to wipe at her waterline. Elide laughed and did the same; laughing at the growing pains. Embracing and squeezing love into each other.

Hour Three

They had all moved to the living room. It was three o'clock, and the festivities would run until midnight.

This tradition of theirs started years ago, when Lysandra had been given this apartment by her uncle, conveniently on Yulemas Eve. As a group of broke college students, they had gotten together at noon at Lys’ new abode, flocking towards the offer of free food and drinks. But, they had spent the next twelve hours renovating, each of them finding different tasks every hour to keep the boredom away. At midnight, the promised food had been delivered and all of them had pigged out and slept on the worn carpet of the living room, full of holiday spirit.

That tradition continued on, and it proved to be extremely helpful in the days when family ties were harder to save than simply forget. When the lonesomeness of the holidays overtook the youths, twelve hours at Lysandra and Aedion's home would never fail to rekindle that merriment.

And so, for the past decade, everyone would arrive at noon, and each hour would be filled with something new; usually holiday-themed, but it was truly left to Aelin’s best friend’s imagination.

So at hour three, the group found themselves in the living room, sipping on sparkling wine and snacking on appetizers. This would – apparently – be the hour of catching up.

“... And so I told him, if he wanted a maid he could hire one. I mean, the man is rolling in money. What fucking scumbag hires someone, and then lets them play servant for the rest of the office, and then drops all his work on them? I mean, truly.” Elide was saying. Aelin was nodding along, enjoying the fresh gossip about her best friend's workplace. “But then he got all on his high horse, all you can't talk to me like that and I'm your superior, you know. Stupid bullshit.”

“So what did you do?” Lysandra asked, thoroughly enthralled by the story. Lorcan let out a hearty chuckle, his arm slung across Elide lovingly.

“I fucking stole the glass plate from his microwave. Then took all the ink cartridges from his pens. And all the extra toilet paper in his washroom? Not there anymore!” Aelin snorted out her bubbly wine. Lysandra was racked with giggles, and Lorcan was trying not to laugh out loud. Aedion’s cackle joined the fray. And like she always would, Aelin picked up on Rowan's breathy laugh, it ignited flames through her veins.

“Oh my gods, El. You absolute heathen,” Aedion got out through fits of laughter. Lysandra attempted deep breaths while wiping stray tears from the corners of her eyes. Aelin stared into her drink, suppressing giggles.

“Well, it's not like he didn't deserve it,” Elide added, smiling smugly. Lorcan just kissed her temple.

“Certainly not. Where’d you get those ideas though?” Leaning for a piece of cheese, Aelin asked. Grabbing a few pieces and rolling them around in her palm. Lysandra’s giggles were waving in and out, each time Aedion whispered something in her ear, they’d begin again.

“My gigantic brain.” Elide snorted, pleased at her joke.

“Nice, El.” Came from Rowan.

“See, I thought you'd crucify me for that. Mister straight and narrow.” Oh.

Rowan didn't falter, “No, actually, if anything that gives me ideas.” He said. “Sometimes the corporate world can be a little too uptight.” He glanced at Aelin.

Aedion laughed again. “Rich! That’s rich coming from you.” He taunted.

Rowan leaned into the jest. “Maybe I want to break free.”

“Uptight life not suiting you anymore, Boyo?” Came from Lorcan.

“Maybe.” Rowan shrugged. “Maybe life is worth a little more than corporate deviances.” He pulled at the seams of his shirt. Fingers twirling the stem of his sparkling wine.

Aelin didn't think anyone else had noticed the stall in the conversation. The way the bright energy slowed and sputtered. Pausing momentarily and applying enough pressure to Aelin’s soul that she felt winded. But everyone moved on, Rowan included. Laughing and sharing stories as they might.

The conversation didn't end, and Aelin’s buried sorrow didn't dissipate. But she would keep breathing. Keep moving forward, exchanging banter all in the hopes of drawing out the sound of her heart breaking slowly.

“By the way, Lys, how many candies were in the jar?”

“None. It was the paper decoration that it came with from the store.”

Hour Four

It was cocktail hour.

This was Aelin’s favourite tradition. One she actually prepared for. And it consisted of each of them having to make a holiday-themed cocktail, completely customized. There could be no research during the competition – before was a grey area Aelin loved to exploit – and they each had ten minutes.

The order would follow; Lorcan, Lysandra, Elide, Aedion, Rowan, Aelin. And so, a silver tray had been placed in the middle of the table, and six yellowy drinks in champagne flutes sat. The colour was truly horrifying.

“So, explain.” Lysadra motioned to start.

“Right,” Lorcan grabbed a flute, examining it carefully. Like he didn't even know what was in it himself. “So, this…drink–”

“Sound a little more enthusiastic babe, or I'll be really worried about what you made.” Elide interrupted.

“I'm already worried,” Rowan whispered to Aedion, face set in a perplexed grimace.

“Hush, you goons.” He waved at the other guys. They broke apart laughing. “In here there is…Gin, uh, some Limoncello and creme de Banane. And I call it the…uh, I don't know. Yellow shot?”

“...of death,” Aelin whispered to Lysandra. Who nodded solemnly. Elide looked disgusted at her fiance’s creation, but schooled it into a look of pride when he turned to her. The moment he looked away, she made a fake gagging motion to Aelin and Lysandra.

“Sounds wonderful, my dear Lorcan. Now, my great sir, would you please bring me my beverage.” Aedion declared, hands aiming to move in a dignified manner. He looked like he was trying to swat away flies.

“No.”

“It was worth a shot,” He sighed, reaching for a drink.

Aelin grabbed a flute, “Limoncello and Gin, what the hell were you aiming for here Lorcan?” She delicately sniffed at the drink. Oh god.

Plopping himself nearly onto Elide, who let out a squeak, he just shrugged. Grabbing his flute, he threw it back in one fluid motion. Everyone paused, waiting for the reaction. He swallowed, looked around, and then quickly turned away to gag and cough.

Laughter erupted.

Once everyone had a glass, clinking them together in cheers, and shot it down like Lorcan. He watched from on the couch, eyes a little watery. There was a pause as everyone swished the drink around in their mouth, tasting the flavour.

It was fucking godsawful. Aelin had never tasted anything so evil. The hint of banana flavour nearly had her spitting the drink back into the glass, and the way the Gin nearly curdled it was almost worse. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she tried to swallow. Forcing the atrocity that was Lorcan’s drink down. Catching Elide’s eye, as the woman got up and ran for the washroom. Lysandra was the only one who seemed unbothered.

“Fuck!” Aedion shouted when he could speak again. “Holy gods man, I have never put anything worse into my mouth. Ever.”

“And that's saying somethin',” Rowan choked out. Also beyond bothered by Lorcan’s monstrosity.

“You evil, evil man,” Aelin added. A shudder racking her body.

The cocktail hour carried on. Lysandra had made a mojito with cinnamon rather than mint, and it was not nearly as bad as Lorcan’s. Elide had done a ‘Sunrise Suprise’, which was simply tequila and orange juice. The ability to make a good cocktail skipped both Elide and Lorcan. Aedion had wanted to send everyone to their death, combining four different whiskeys and a melted spoonful of ice cream. It hadn't been as bad as expected, but there were much better choices out there. Rowan had mixed pickle juice and vodka, to create a dill martini. Interestingly enough, that had been the most palatable drink of the night.

When Aelin’s turn came around, she began to pull out the individual ingredients. Lining them up in the order in which she would mix. Her focus on the drinks made her unaware that another body was present in the kitchen. Until they spoke up.

“You look well,” Rowan said from the opposite end of the room, his body leaning up against the cabinets. Jumping at the sudden sound of his voice, her head snapped up. There he was, cataloguing her every move, a familiar feeling; his eyes on her.

Startled, she stared at him. And kept staring at him, not realizing she had been ogling him for a few moments. She took in the lines of his body, the way his dress pants hugged his legs. The black leather belt, cinching in his waist. The sweater – cashmere, most likely – was elegantly draped over his upper body. The hard planes of his stomach were slightly in sight as the soft material moulded to his form. Everything about Rowan meant something. And looking at him only brought back bitter-sweet memories. Her gaze snapped away when he gave a light noise of acknowledgement.

Blushing and caught, Aelin turned back to the drinks, cracking open the bottle of vodka she had slipped mint candies in a few weeks ago. She planned to let the flavours permeate the liquor and add a nice flair to her drinks. She felt Rowan’s inquisitive eyes on her every move.

“Thank you, Rowan.” Acknowledging him, she hoped he would just walk away. She wasn't strong enough to just stand here and allow him to be there. To feel the gaping divide between their beings.

Silence.

“I– Look, I need to talk to you Aelin,” He approached from the other side of the room, slipping around the counter where she was. “I know it’s not the best–”

“Rowan.” A firm command, all blushed drained. She could be strong. She could. She was back to looking at him again. Green eyes, full lips, strong jaw. The silver strands that ghosted his brow. Gods she hated how looking at him hurt her so deeply. His smile, and laughter, earlier had been the knife to the gut. His presence here now? A twisting.

“No, Aelin. I'm serious.”

“I am too.”

“Wait.” He breathed. Gentler this time. His hand stretched out, muscle memory. She knew it would land at the curve of her waist, how the weight of it would ground her. The warmth would slip under the fabric of her dress, warming her bones.

He retracted it before it got close enough, burning the neuron pathway that made the movement instinctual.

She steadied herself, leaning towards him slightly, but not enough to communicate any more interest in where this was going. “Not now, Rowan. Not now. You had your chance, let me be.”

“What chance? The fucking run-in at a cafe? That was not a ‘chance’ Aelin.” He snapped. Letting his frustration run into his tone. She hated him when he was like this. Not frustrated, no she understood that. But…seeking. She knew what he wanted, and she knew it would break her down quicker than she could turn away. Her sanity rested on the finalization of this conversation.

Smiling politely, in a way she knew brought more frustration, she turned away and began preparing the drink.

“Not now,” She whispered. More to herself, a silent prayer of resistance. She heard more than saw Rowan turn to walk away, over the entire conversation entirely. He missed the tear that raced down her cheek, or the hitch in her breath when the door swung close.

“Peppermint Cocktails!” Aelin announced, waltzing into the room with her usual charm, all emotions wiped. She avoided Rowan’s look like the plague. Offering a drink to each friend, she was pleased to hear that her concoction was the best of the night – an unsurprising win – and the group sat around talking still. The light buzz from all the alcohol had Aelin feeling looser. The unease from moments ago slipped away like sand between her fingers.

“I saw Rowan walk into the kitchen,” Elide whispered into her ear. Everyone else had been looking at a picture on Lorcan's phone.

“Mhm.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Hour Five

Rowan likes the cold.

He liked it in a way many others didn't. He liked the way it nipped at his body slowly in the beginning, a feeling that was urgently chased away by shivers. He liked it when it froze deeper. When it slowly crawled into the heat of his body, dousing it and cutting off feeling. He liked the stiffness. The slowed movement as the cold reached his core, seizing feeling. It isolated him in a way many things did not.

Sitting on the front porch of Lysandra’s apartment, he embraced the cold.

Everyone had just finished up with a game of cards, and Aedion had rushed out, forgetting some ingredients for dinner. He had excused himself, just need a moment, and walked all of three steps before stopping. Allowing his body to freeze, his cashmere sweater not saving much heat.

As he lost feeling of some body parts, he embraced the thoughts rushing through his mind, all seemingly racing in circles around the fiery blonde. The one whose embers never burnt out, but now seemed to be slowly dying. The consistent crackle and warmth of her presence, all leaking away in a manner he knew he was responsible for.

The cold he had embraced wholeheartedly was killing his fireheart.

His thoughts spun like the twirling snowflakes as they fell to the ground. Circling gently, melting away. But all things seemed to lead him back to his bedroom. To the moment this morning, before he had slipped away into the cab to make it here tonight. His thoughts brought him to the second drawer in his nightstand, underneath a notepad and tissues. In an embroidered box, sat a diamond ring, inlaid into a gold band that had sweeping leaf designs along its curves. Two emeralds set into the inside, to rub against one's finger.

All thoughts seemed to lead him back to Aelin

Hour Six, Hour Seven, Hour Eight

“Can you pass me the salt?” Lysandra called from Aelin's right. She was before the stove, stirring the gravy and watching the vegetables as they cooked in the pan.

Handing her the salt, Aelin brushed by her to grab some butter from the fridge. Needing it for the bread that would be coming out of the oven soon, steaming hot.

They worked in a comfortable silence, only waiting for Aedion to return with some forgotten ingredients. Lorcan, Elide, and Rowan were all in the living room, having not been drawn for cooking duty this year. A method that was quickly taken up once the group realized six people in the kitchen was less of a pleasant experience. Top many bossy chefs.

Post-cocktail hour, tipsy cards had commenced. And the many, many, shots of straight liquor had reached Aelin by that time. She was feeling much better, her heart no longer aching and screaming at her mind to just look at the man across from her. Rather, she had enthusiastically played cards. Letting the feeling of her family around her and the laughter that kept escaping cocoon her. Unfortunately, that joy had meant that Lorcan had swept everyone off their asses, wiping the board clean and winning the one hundred and twenty dollars put into the pot. That had sobered her up pretty quickly, arguing that he had cheated. He had just smirked.

Then when Aedion rushed out, Aelin caught sight of Rowan walking out the front door too. She had been standing at the other end of the hallway, out of his view. She had watched his expression fall as soon as he crossed the threshold. It was like night and day, the crinkle around his eyes and the brightness of his smile, wiped away. He just stepped out, closing the door softly behind him.

She had waited a moment, arguing mentally if she should go after him, until Lysandra had called, telling Aelin she needed her help.

She wasn't ready to face him alone.

“Aelin,” A soft hand was at Aelin's wrist, pausing her chopping of vegetables. She glanced up, shocked out of her reverie. Lysandra was staring at her, looking deeply into her, her brows pulled together in confusion. She must've been calling me for a minute. When it seemed Lysandra had the other woman’s attention, she added softly, “I couldn't not invite one of you.”

Dropping the knife, “Lys.” Aelin pleaded, not wanting to have this conversation. It felt like the entire night had been her running in circles around her and Rowan. Her and Rowan. Rowan and I. “Seriously, I can't do more of this.”

Lysandra paid no mind to Aelin’s plea, pushing forward. “Listen. I love you deeply, very very deeply. Sometimes I wonder why,” at that, Aelin cracked a mirthful smile. “But I see the way you two look at each other. And while I know it's not my business, I think this is something you two seriously need to talk out.” She said solemnly.

This was the point she'd been dancing around for such a long time.

Pushing the cutting board away from her, Aelin slumped into her arms, leaning against the counter.

“Did I make a mistake? Breaking up with him?” Like a breath after being underwater, Aelin let it out, asking the question that had rattled in the back of her mind for months. Breathing in a little deeper when some new space opened up because of it.

“I have my own opinions, but whether or not you made a mistake is up to you.” Lysandra was soothingly rubbing her back.

“Some days it feels like the biggest fucking mistake I've ever made, Lys. Some days it hurts so much I can't even get out of bed.”

She hummed, letting Aelin speak.

“I just– it felt right at the time. But it doesn't feel right now. How is that fair? How could I have made a decision like that? What would have happened if I stayed?”

“You wouldn't have done well, Ae. We all saw what was happening.”

“But you can't know that.” She whispered out.

“I can, and I did. Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let go. And that's what you did, my love. Maybe something could have gotten better, but maybe not.” Lysandra took a deep breath. “I'm proud of you regardless, that's not an easy choice to make.”

“And it clearly wasn't the fucking right one.”

Lysandra's hand stopped, she grabbed onto Aelin's shoulder, squeezing firmly.

“You can say that all you want, Aelin, but ultimately it was the right choice for you at the time. You blossomed. But now? Maybe it's different. And maybe every time I see you two lovesick fools in the same room, I am simultaneously sick and overjoyed. I see his face when he looks at you Ae, like you hung the stars.”

“What's this? Therapy hour?” A loud voice broke apart their moment, jerking both women out of their moment. It was Aedion with the groceries. He was smiling widely, but it fell when he took in the expression of the other women. “Oh. Shit, sorry.”

Aelin just groaned. “And look at me now, ruining the festivities.” Watching Aedion's smile drop was just a reminder of the emotional burden she forgot to check at the door. Bringing that cloud of gloom inside. It was not fair to everyone else, they didn't deserve to bear witness to the sorrow leaking from her.

“You're not ruining anything, Aelin. Aedion, stop being an idiot.” Lysandra amended.

Aedion, clearly understanding the situation now, came over to drop the groceries on the counter and pull his cousin into a tight hug. “Lys is right. You have nothing to be sorry for. We all love you lots and want to see you happy, and if drinking shitty cocktails and spilling your gossip helps you feel better, I'll gladly do it alongside you.” He kissed her temple.

Aelin wanted to break down. This was not how she expected to spend this evening. Granted, she has predicted being in the same vicinity as Rowan would test her. Bring those choked feelings up to the surface. It would hurt just as it had when they split, as there was truly no way to prepare for seeing him again after months of no contact. Months of isolation and heartache. Months without the half that made her whole.

“Lys, baby, is the gravy supposed to bubble like that?”

“Shit!” Exclaiming, Lysandra rushed away from Aelin's side to check on her portion of dinner. Leaving Aelin, still bent over the counter, staring at the herbs she’d have to chop to sprinkle over the potatoes.

She felt a gentle shoulder push against her side, and then her cousin was beside her, close enough she could feel the warmth radiating off his huge form. “Your parents would be so proud of you, Ae. No matter what. And I think you should do what you feel is best. Even if that's walking away. I love you, we love you.” Mumbling into her ears, lower than anyone else could hear. Aelin nodded, brushing the moisture away from her face.

“I love you too, Aedion.”

“Cheers to this year!”

Glasses chimed as they clinked together, bubbly wine spilling over, onto the feast laid up on the table. Decadent smells wafted up, making Aelin's stomach rumble. She was ready to dig into the spread, and let the food smother the churning anxiety in her stomach.

She was seated next to Elide, and Aedion on her other side. Everyone else was spread around the round table – Lysandra hated the idea of a square table. Not wanting any fighting over the head of it.

Aelin had spoken to Lysandra and Aedion for a few minutes more, opening up a little about how she had been feeling. It took some pushing, given her displeasure at possibly ruining everyone's evening with her issues, but the couple had assured her that it wasn't possible. Highly doubtful of that. But it had been…cathartic, to really speak about how she had felt. How she was dealing with her wounded heart. It meant more than Aelin would realize at the moment, for the two of them to give her a little perspective.

Then, once the timer for the roast had gone off, and the main part of dinner had been pulled out of the oven, it was dressed up in the herbs Aelin had finally finished chopping – after getting a few more hugs in from both Lys and Aedion. Lys and her had started dishing up the plates and Aedion set off to cut some of the roast. Lorcan and Rowan had joined to set the table. And Elide had popped some bottles of prosecco, pouring glasses for everyone.

Seated now, in front of a plate of aromatic food, a balm for the soul, she felt the urge to voice her appreciation. “So,” she started, drawing attention from everyone, especially Rowan. “I- I wanted to say thank you. To all of you. I think… that because of the lives we live today, I really don't have the opportunity to look at all of you and say that. To be able to sit around with each of you means more than anything, and I can't imagine being anywhere else right now. It wouldn't feel right.”

“Cheers to that,” Lorcan added, a slight smile aimed in Aelin’s direction. If that wasn't the definition of a Yulemas miracle, she didn't know what else could be.

Glancing around the table, the circle of the most important people in her life, her eyes stalled upon Rowan. She meant what she said, meant every piece of it. She loved all of them. Grumpy Lorcan, meddling Lysandra. But gods, she loved Rowan, and she lied to herself every day when he was no longer a warm presence next to her. His side of the bed uncharacteristically cold. The feeling of it cooling her.

She hadn't noticed the change in the environment, her focus being locked on Rowan. Their eyes connected, as if reading each other's minds. A choked wheezing noise almost drew her away, but she couldn't. Not when she was swimming in him, not when–

SLAM

“Elide!” A shrill scream. Ripping Aelin away, she was met with a panicked Lysandra, and a horrified Lorcan.

Elide was facedown on the table, and amid chaos, Aelin noticed her chest was not rising and falling as it should. Shouts ensued, voices yelling about get her up and call an ambulance. What had happened in the seconds Aelin wasn't present. How could this have happened that quickly? What was happening!

“She can't breathe!”

“Start CPR. Now!”

“Has someone called an ambulance?”

What is going on!

Lorcan had gently laid Elide on the floor. He had his finger down her throat. His face was panicked, but he was hiding it well, focusing on Elide. Chairs were shoved back, and Lysandra was rushing away, Aedion was on the phone, Rowan was getting on his knees by Elide. They were saying something to each other. Rowan pushed Lorcan away. Lorcan fought back before he realized what was happening. Rowan placed his hands by Elide’s middle, his fingers laced together. She looked so frail there, on the floor.

Rowan started pushing down, one two three four. One two three four. Onetwothreefouronetwothreefour– What is happening!

Aelin was frozen. Frozen in fear, in disbelief, in shock. How. That's all that was going through her mind. How. It had been going so well, how could one moment lead to this? To Elide, down on the floor, not breathing as her fiance shouted panic commands at Rowan. Equally freaked out. To Aedion, shouting instructions from paramedics. Two minutes away! To Lysandra, distraught, not knowing what to do. To Aelin, standing as her best friend couldn't breathe.

Lorcan leaned down, his ear by Elide's mouth. His hand on her neck, searching. Rowan paused, breathing heavily.

Aelin thought she knew what it was to feel her heartbreak, to feel it shatter. But she had never felt it as it fell. Dropped straight out of her chest when Lorcan looked up, eyes wide as saucers, pupils fully dilated. As he looked at Rowan and a lone tear slipped from his eye, dropping down, down, down. Down to where Elide was not breathing.

Hour …

Seated in the emergency ward of the local hospital, Aelin listened to a dull Lorcan list off what had happened. She had choked. She had something lodged in her throat for so long that she passed out. It got lodged deeper. She has two broken ribs. It's not your fault Rowan. You saved her life. She had an endoscopic surgery. To remove the food. She’ll need to stay for the night. Observation.

Struck by disbelief, Aelin couldn't do anything more than trace the lines on the floor. Her hands shook, a later symptom of the shock that had paralyzed Aelin in the moment of action. As Elide was carried out to the ambulance –still not breathing – she had only stood there. Rooted to place. Snapping out of it only when Rowan said he was going to follow them to the hospital. Aelin hadn't even said anything, snapping out of her state and running to the door to grab her boots and jump into whatever car Rowan would be taking.

Only she and Rowan were at the hospital, alongside Lorcan. Aedion had made the executive decision for Lys and him to stay back. Lys had been hysterical, shouting, but shaking just as Aelin was now. She hadn't thought of them once, only what might happen to Elide. To her lovely Elide.

“But she’ll be okay?” Rowan whispered. Agony weaved into his question. He felt guilty, this Aelin knew. Even if he had saved a life, he felt guilty he had hurt someone. She could scream.

Aelin didn't hear an answer, assuming that Lorcan had nodded when Rowan let out a great sigh. Cut short by the sob that burst out. Lorcan was there in an instant, wrapping his brother up in a tight hug. She palmed her thighs, squeezing so tightly.

Eventually, Lorcan released Rowan. The both of them were slightly breathless. Eyes red and sad. Lorcan said he was going to check on Elide, and Rowan sat down next to her. For a few quiet moments, no words were exchanged. A too-real grief hung heavy in the air. They almost lost someone, and now here they were, waiting for Elide to be here again. Because she almost wasn't. She was so close to not being here anymore.

Standing up abruptly, “I- I have to go.” Aelin walked off, not waiting for an answer from Rowan. She was walking quickly through the halls, adrenaline coursing through her so quickly she could barely breathe. And then her breath was coming too quickly. And then she was running, running for the exit. And in her haste, she didn't hear the other feet running after her.

All she could hear was her breath. Elide’s lack of.

She slammed through the front doors, flat-out sprinting now. She had no idea where to go, and it was snowing hard. The wind whipped at her dress-clad form – she hadn't grabbed her jacket. But she kept running. Tripping up on ice, pelted by the rising blizzard. She had no idea where she was, but the blood rushing in her ears, and her hyperventilating had her in a dizzying state.

“AELIN!” A voice roared. She couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, completely surrounded by falling snow, as it blocked out the light. Spinning wildly, she could feel the tears as they rushed down her face, freezing on her cheeks.

She was panting, barely in control, when Rowan came from her side, nearly slamming into her and knocking them both over. He was breathing heavily too. His hair was out of place and his eyes were wild.

“What were you thinking!” He yelled, grabbing onto her. “You can't fucking run like that! Aelin! What the fuck!” His tone kept increasing. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Unlike Elide. No movement, no breaths. No breaths, no breath, not breathi-

“Aelin! AELIN! Look at me!”

Her eyes were wild, nails pressing into Rowan’s biceps as she held onto him for dear life. Where was she, where was she, wherewasshe…

A chilled hand grabbed her chin, pulling her – not roughly – to look into Rowan’s frantic gaze. Her breathing wasn't slowing, and Rowan’s gaze was unbreakable. He was whispering something, his lips moving. Aelin watched as they moved, shifting up, down. The corners of his mouth pinching. Another hand came up, and her face was now being cradled between Rowan’s large hands. And she saw his lips still moving, and then the crease in his brow, the worry dancing in his eyes. And then she was pressed against his warm chest.

Her head was against his heart. The thump-thump a grounding. She felt her breathing start to ease, felt arms tighten around her. Felt as she leaned further into Rowan. The tears falling faster now, but her breaths slowing enough that her brain could finally catch up. To where she was. Where she was, here in Rowan’s arms. In Rowan’s ar–

“No!’ She shouted shoving away from him, breaking the cage that was his grasp. “No! No, no, no!”

Rowan just let his arms drop, hanging by his sides. His expression was one of worry, and confusion. Frustration and dismay. “What?” He said. His voice carried through the snowstorm.

“Dont– Dont do that!” Aelin sobbed out, hands going to her hair. Pulling at the roots and turning around aimlessly.

“Do what.” His hands clenched. His worry wiped away, a vexed expression appearing instead.

“Do that! Care for me! Stop!” She kept shouting, the snow thoroughly soaking her now. The chill seeping into her bones.

“Care for you? What?” He shouted back. “What the fuck do you mean Aelin!”

“I mean, don't come r-rushing after me! Don't fucking p-pretend you care!”

“Pretend I care?!” He took a step forward, she took one back. An undecipherable look crossed his face, before it was set back into a frown. His shoulders lined with tension, and fists opening and closing around nothing. “Aelin, what do you mean?”

“You don't care. S-so don't c-come running after m-me like you do!” The chills were shaking her body now, and she wrapped her arms around herself as tightly as possible, trying to keep in body heat. The storm was getting worse. Rowan’s image was getting blurrier, maybe it was her tears, still flowing freely. Along with her nose.

“What… Aelin– I,” His hand went to his hair, raking through the soaked strands before pulling. “I chased after you because you fucking ran away hyperventilating! Out of a hospital! Into a fucking blizzard! What do you think I’d do? Sit there like an idiot and let you freeze to death or get hit by a car?!”

“It doesn-”

“Yes it does! Yes, it fucking does!”

“Why!” She screamed, shaking and watching as Rowan stepped forward. This time she didn't step back.

“Aelin.” He said, this time it was more of a command, a telling. “Are you asking me why I’d come for you?”

She considered it for a second, then nodded.

A moment passed before Rowan's face morphed into one of genuine pain.

“Because I would always fucking follow you! And I would always make sure you are okay, no matter what.” He snapped. “And I'm sorry I can't turn my feelings off as easily as you, but watching you walk away, no matter what, it fucking kills me!”

There was a pause as the words sunk in, as Rowan’s chest rose and fell with laboured breaths, as his eyes traced her face for any hint – of anything.

“You what?” Aelin squeaked out. Not knowing if the question was swallowed up by the storm until Rowan took a tentative step forward. Then another, then they were just a few breaths apart.

“I would always follow you, Aelin,” He whispered, face drawn in sorrow. Her cheeks hurt from the frozen tears, but they warmed at his confession. “Because… because I still love you. Still so, so much. Ae, it hurts.”

“What,” She said, more to herself. But Rowan's face crumpled, and she felt the fall directly in her heart.

“Aelin,” He whispered, reaching for her hand that was tucked under her exposed bicep. Slowly freezing. She let him grab the hand, warming it between his palms, and then pulling her forward to place it on his heart. “I have missed you every day, and I- I couldn't do anything about it, ‘cause I fucked it up in the first place. I made you have to leave. And so I watched you walk away. I let you,” He took a deep breath. “I never wanted that to happen. Ever. But I did, and… gods Aelin, I’ve never regretted something more in my life.”

She just looked up at him. Not really believing the words she was hearing, because how could this be possible?

“Rowan…” Her lips were turning blue, and she could barely feel her legs. She was going to freeze out here, in the midst of a blizzard, as she heard her ex-boyfriend tell her how he messed up, how he missed her.

A tear fell on his face, and she watched it trail down. “I love you, Fireheart. I still love you. I am in love with you.” He shook his head, his hair had froze. “I'm sorry.”

“Rowan, I t-thought you wanted m-me gone. I thought it w-wasnt working.” Her teeth were clacking together so hard, she could barely get the words out. That and the weird feeling erupting from inside her.

“I never wanted you gone, Ae. I was just so… I didn't realize what I had– what we had.”

“And now y-you do?” She mumbled, her feelings dancing on the edge of a knife.

His pine-green eyes scanned her face so quickly, moving over every feature. As if he was re-memorizing them all. She watched his throat work.

“Ae… I don’t know how to– I,” He closed his eyes.

Aelin took in her hand on his chest, the tear tracks along his beautiful face. The soaked sweater. Her frozen body, and she took a chance, stepping forward, pressing up.

Rowan must have sensed a change, because his eyes snapped open, searching, before finding Aelin closer than she had been in months.

“Rowan…” She breathed, “I love you so godsdamned much.” She slung her arms around his neck, and pressed a cold kiss onto his stunned lips. He didn't react for a second, and she almost darted away, before she was pulled back.

Her lips crashed back into Rowan, into a fiery and all-consuming kiss that warmed her from head to toe. Rowan's hands moved all over, making purchase along her frozen body. Never settling, like he didn't realize she was real.

There, in the middle of a raging blizzard, Aelin got back what she had been searching for. Her other half. The man who was only everything to her, all along, and forever.

Once Rowan had realized that Aelin might actually contract hypothermia, he had rushed her back to the hospital, where she was treated for minor frostbite, and then released soon after. The pair had visited a sleeping Elide and tired Lorcan, before heading back to the house to update Lysandra and Aedion. Once they had gotten past them, Rowan had gone up to their room to run a bath for Aelin.

Lysandra had told Aelin she could take Lorcan and Elide’s room – given that they wouldn't be home that night – and when she had objected, saying she preferred her room, Aedion and Lysandra had looked at each other questioningly. But they let her go without a fuss, Lysandra already planning to get this information out of the woman.

Aelin had paid them no heed, moving lethargically upstairs, where she found Rowan sprinkling some of the petals from the rose into the bath.

She had kissed him, and then gotten distracted kissing him, before timidly inviting him into the bath as well. He agreed, and the two of them spent a gentle moment together, not initiating anything further, but Aelin sunk into the feeling of Rowan, of having him back in her life, in her heart.

When they had both pruned up, Rowan hopped out and brought the towels over, drying the both of them off. Running on the dregs of her earlier adrenaline rush, Aelin leaned heavily into Rowan as he got her ready for bed. The soft moment bringing her back to where she felt safe, where she knew she belonged. And when Rowan picked her up bridal style, gently laying her on her side of the bed, tucking her in and then crawling in behind her, she knew she was home.

“I love you, Rowan.”

“I love you, Aelin.”

Hours Later

That morning, when they went as a group to visit Elide and Lorcan in the hospital, carrying some gingerbread cookies, flowers and a present for Elide, they found the couple asleep together in bed. Lorcan's large body curled protectively around Elide, his great arms placed with a delicateness reserved only for the woman he loved. They had tried to backtrack – let them sleep – only for Elide to snap at them. Telling them to get their asses back in the room because she wants to spend Yulemas morning with her family.

Aelin could have cried happy tears, and she had. Rushing forward to hug Elide. Careful of her ribs, and the giant man behind her. She had cried into her arms. Mumbling incoherent words into the woman's skin. And soon she was joined by Lysandra, who was equally as teary. Lorcan had mumbled something about wanting to spend the morning with his fiance and had slipped off the bed with a groan, headed elsewhere. His spot was quickly replaced by the two other women. All of them snuggling up together. Rowan had snapped a quick photo.

Aedion and Rowan pulled up chairs, and Rowan grabbed an extra for Lorcan when he returned. Chattering happily, Elide was in the center of her family. And even if she had been in pain, had almost died, she was forgetting about it instantly with their arrival. And she sat with them for the entire morning, basking in the love so freely available.

And when it was time for them to leave, she didn't miss the way Rowan folded his arms around Aelin, and the beaming smile she reserved for him. The way their hands snaked together when they thought no one was looking. And the kiss Rowan dropped onto Aelin's brow as they walked off, away. Intertwined again.

Taglist: @backtobl4ck // @goddess-aelin

Thank you for reading!! Happy holidays to you all :))))

#rowaelin #throne of glass #aelinschild #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin x rowan #rowaelin au #aelin fireheart #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius

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sirianasims · 11 months ago

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I loved my apartment in San Myshuno, but being back in my parent’s house still felt like coming home. There was something comforting about Winterfest Eve being the same as always, especially since my life had changed so dramatically in the last year. The same familiar food, the same old Winterfest plates, my brothers kicking me under the table and blaming each other as usual – everything just felt right.

The only real change compared to last year was baby Grayson, and he was more than welcome.

Ivy excitedly told us about her dance studio and Windenburg, and I talked about my life in San Myshuno, my work, and my new friends. I tried to avoid talking about the whole paparazzi thing, but of course my mother and Ivy wanted to know more about Paul. I told them the basics, but the secrecy around our relationship had almost become second nature, and it felt wrong, too intimate, to tell them any details.

I also left out the fact that I hadn’t been able to go near any of my channels since the news broke. I felt pretty confident that I would be fine, haters also generated traffic, and at least for now, I was still making more than back when I could post regularly.

At the other end of the table, my father tried to convince Grayson to taste some mashed potato, and I couldn’t help but sneaking glances at Hailey and Mark. Maybe it was because she was the oldest, or maybe it was just because she looked so much like our mother, but Hailey always had that ‘mom energy’. They’d been married for two years now, and it already felt like Mark had always been a part of the family, joking around with my brothers and fitting in seamlessly, like he was meant to be here.

“Julia? Anyone home? I asked how you’re managing. You seem a bit off. Are you sure all the media bullshit isn’t getting to you?”

“Ivy, I’m doing fine. I might not have been well known, but I’ve been streaming for years, I’m used to random people having opinions on me and the things I do. And Paul is taking good care of me.”

Ivy still looked sceptical. She always knew me better than anyone else.

“Julia… You’re an adult, we trust you to make your own decisions, and Paul sounds like a good man, but I don’t want you getting in over your head. Please promise that you’ll let us know if you need any help. Anything at all.”

“I promise, mom.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #freya duchelli #samuel ward #hailey duchelli #ivy duchelli #liam duchelli #kieran duchelli

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yumesei · 3 months ago

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Hiiii 🍓, 🦀, and 🥩 for the ask game ^_^

Hello Ivy!! thanks for the ask, I'll answer for Thresh :D

🍓 what's your favorite thing you own in real life that reminds you of/is about your F/O?

I have a ton of Thresh merch scattered around my parent's home/my apartment!! (+ clothes and stickers who aren't in the pictures)

My friends call that the "Thresh wall" because it's full of my Thresh commission 😭

🦀 what's your favorite animal versus your F/O's favorite animal?

Runeterra has its own fauna. And while I don't think Thresh has a favorite animal, I want to say whumps just for fun. Meanwhile, Sei is a pure poro girlie.

🥩 who is your oldest and who is your newest F/O?

I have selfshipped with a lot of characters before I even knew what was selfshipping, but the first character I ever recognized as an f/o is Akashi Seijuro from Kuroko no Basket when I was in middle school. My newest f/o is So.ap from C.O.D eve tho he's not actually that new, it's more that he came back 😭

#pookie talk

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galaxycatdrawz · 9 months ago

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About Me!

@writingforstraykids created this for me ↑

You can call me Galactic/Azrael, or Az for short!

'97 Liner

[Trans]- Male

He/They Pronouns

Not a Minor Safe Blog (plenty of NSFW)

Most of my Moots are too nice or don't like conflict, so I will be blunt in their place(s)

If you do not have an age in your bio and/or a profile pic, I will most likely block you

I am not responsible for anything you come across on my blog, if you don't like something then you can blacklist the tag(s) and posts so you don't see them. I will block people if I don't like their content and/or demeanor.

I don't post my own content as of yet, but I may in the future. If you would like to see content that I have co-written as the little devil in someone brain, go check out @writingforstraykids, we have 2 Collab series so far!

[Blue name means we're currently matching] Changing every month on the 1st!!

[Purple Names are apart of #Meanie Moots 😈]

Tags to Help You Get Around ↓

#mooties 🤍#masterlists #skcawk <3 #saving this for later #spicy links #twt links #moot tag pending...#anony baby ✿#dividers by fairytopea #meanie moots 😈

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itzynabi · 1 year ago

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that’s so evie episode 19

posted: 27 july 2023

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mention of alcohol

an: another that’s so evie episode everybody SCREAMMMM. the dance challenge can be found here. i mean no disrespect by blurring out someone’s face, it’s just so you don’t get confused with the face claim. words in [] are captions. feedback and reblogs are much appreciated 💐

eve’s masterlist // that’s so evie

“Hello and welcome to That’s So Evie!” Eve greeted from behind a table. “Today is… tropical. I’m sure you can tell from my outfit.” She showed off her outfit, doing a twirl so the camera could catch all the details. “Today’s guest is someone I’ve known for a while — since I was a trainee. Come on out!”

[Summer isn’t summer without her. Soyou!]

Soyou walked into the frame as the staff cheered for her. She moved to stand next to Eve, hugging her tightly when she reached her.

“Hi, I’m Soyou,” she greeted once she and Eve pulled apart. The staff cheered for her once more.

“Do you know what we’re doing today?” Eve asked.

Soyou shook her head. “No, but we’re in a bar and I can see a lot of alcohol here.” She gestured to the table, where there were a few bottles of alcohol.

“Today, we’re making cocktails,” Eve said. She pointed at a few sheets of laminated paper next to the ingredients. “There are a few recipes here and we can choose which one we want to make.” She stared at the alcohol for a few seconds before singing, “Naneun alcohol-free geunde chwihae–”

“You should be singing my song!” Soyou complained.

“–Masin ge hanado eomneunde.” She stopped singing. “You haven’t played your song for me, though. How can I sing it?”

“Yah, that’s your fault.”

“How is it my fault? Why is it my fault?” Eve shrugged, her hands remaining in the air. “It hasn’t been released!”

[They naturally start arguing]

“Anyways, today we are going to make cocktails,” Eve said once more. She gestured to the table in front of them, continuing to speak, “We have ingredients used necessary to make the different cocktails and some recipes.” She picked up a stack of laminated A5 sheets of paper to show the camera. “The staff researched some cocktails that they thought would be nice for us.”

“Did they just use Naver or–”

“They went to a bar and ordered a bunch of cocktails to find the best ten among them,” Eve answered Soyou’s question.

“Weren’t they just using it as an excuse to drink?” Soyou asked, chuckling lightly.

Eve nodded enthusiastically. “That’s what I think too! Because they even suggested we make cocktails.” She looked to the staff, putting down the recipes. “But it’s a good thing they suggested it because I couldn’t come up with anything for this episode.”

Soyou laughed, clapping her hands. She picked up the sheets of paper, sifting through them. “Do we choose which one we want to make?”

“Yes. Because you’re the guest, I’ll let you pick first.”

“Thank you.” Soyou slightly bowed. She looked at the different sheets, laying them out in front of her. After some time, she decided. “I’m going to make this one.” She picked up the paper.

[Ivy Gimlet]

Eve nodded. “It’s pretty. Now, let me choose.” She put her head on Soyou’s shoulder, flicking her eyes across the different papers. “I’m definitely not doing that one,” she said, pointing at the Malibu Wave. “I don’t like how blue it is.”

“Yah, you mustn’t judge by how it looks,” Soyou scolded. “You should also take the ingredients into account.”

“Soyou-yah, it looks like toilet water.”

Soyou threw her head back in laughter. “It might taste good, though!”

Eve lifted her head, looking at her guest. “Then you can make it.”

Soyou stared at Eve for a few seconds. “No, no, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just saying that it might taste good.”

“Yeah. So you should make it to see if it does.”

Soyou laughed quietly. “Shut up,” she whispered to Eve, causing the younger girl to laugh.

Eve nodded as she stopped laughing. “Okay, okay.” She focused again on the papers. “Toilet Water is out.” She moved the recipe away. Staring at the papers, she made various noises as she thought her choice over. “I choose… this one.” She showed the paper to the camera.

[Tequila Sunrise]

“Now that we’ve decided what to make, let’s collect our ingredients,” Eve said. The two women looked at their recipes, taking the necessary ingredients to their sides of the table.

“Are we going to make one cocktail each?” Soyou asked, picking up lime and putting it with her other ingredients.

“Should we make more?”

Soyou shrugged. “Won’t the video be too short if we only make one? You won’t have a lot of footage.”

[Sweet Soyou worries about the footage

She mustn’t worry, though. Eve talks too much for us to not have footage]

“Are you sure you don’t just want to make more cocktails to drink?” Eve teased. “I think you just want to drink the cocktails.” She smiled mischievously.

Soyou shook her head, laughing. “No! I was just asking.”

“But I think making one would be enough,” Eve said, “because we don’t have the fruit juices, we only have the fruit. So it’ll take time.”

Soyou looked down at the table, gasping. “That’s right. I didn’t realise.” She looked up at the staff behind the camera. “You’re very smart.”

“Let’s begin!” Eve cheered once they had both gotten all their ingredients as well as chopping boards.

“29 milliliters of lime juice,” Soyou mumbled as she read. She picked up her lime placing it on the chopping board. “Have you ever made a cocktail?” She asked Eve, who was cutting her orange.

Eve shook her head, picking up the orange squeezer. “It’s my first time. Have you?”

“Yes. A handful of times, but I had a teacher with me so I was being guided.”

“Let the recipe guide you,” Eve said, pouring the orange juice she squeezed into a shaker.

[...]

The women burst out laughing at Eve’s comment.

“‘Let the recipe guide you,’” Soyou copied Eve’s monotonous way of speaking, laughing again.

“It’s because I was focused,” Eve explained, chuckling. “When I focus on something I don’t speak.”

“Really?” Soyou asked, pouring the lime juice in a shaker with the vodka.

Eve nodded. “ITZY did a programme called Paris et ITZY and we went to a baking class. They were all talking and joking with each other, but I was focused on my thing.”

“So you didn’t speak?”

“Yuna nudged me to get my attention because they were all looking at me.”

Soyou touched her cheeks with the backs of her hand. “Why is this making me laugh so much?”

Eve looked up at her. “Your face is red! Are you tipsy?”

“No, no, no.” Soyou shook her hand in front of herself. “Maybe I’m just excited. It’s been so long since I last saw you, Nabi-yah.”

“Maybe,” Eve said in a tone that suggested she didn’t believe Soyou. “It happens, I guess.”

“By the way, should I call you Eve or Nabi?” Soyou asked, looking at the girl.

Eve shrugged. “I don’t care. Call me whatever you want. Some people call me Eve, some call me Eve, some call me both. Whatever you prefer.”

“I’m going to call you Nabi.”

“Go for it!” Eve made a fist with her hand.

“Do you know my full name?” Soyou suddenly asked. “You should know my full name.”

Eve scoffed, smirking with confidence. “Of course I know it! Kang Soyou!”

Soyou burst into laughter. “Wrong.”

Eve’s smirk fell off her face. “What?”

“Kang Jihyun,” she corrected.

Eve gaped at her. “My life is a lie.”

“We’ve been over this almost ten times now!” Soyou exclaimed in mock annoyance.

Eve pouted slightly, blinking her eyes repeatedly. “I don’t remember ever having this conversation.”

“At one of the classes in Produce 48, one of the trainees called me Trainer Jihyun and you very loudly asked ‘Who’s that?’” Soyou told her.

“I vaguely remember that. Very vaguely,” Eve said, touching her chin. “I’m pretty sure Cheetah sunbaenim started laughing.”

“She did,” Soyou confirmed, nodding.

[Instead of making drinks, they spend time talking]

“But I did a good job of pretending not to know you, right?”

Eve sighed. “You did a horrible job. When I first came on stage, your mouth twitched like this.” Eve started moving her mouth around as Soyou laughed. “Yoonjung-nim pulled me aside after one of the classes and told me you said I was SHINee’s sister.”

“Me?” Soyou asked, pointing at herself. “When did I say that?”

“She said you went drinking together and then you just started talking. I had to lie. ‘I don’t know why she said that, maybe it’s because I have the same last name as one of them,’” Eve imitated herself, recalling the day. “I was so shocked.”

Soyou gasped, clapping her hands once. “I remember that day! We went out for drinks with all the trainers and then we went to the bathroom and I asked if she wanted to know a secret. Then I remember waking up the next day and hoping she wouldn’t remember what I said, but she didn’t mention it so I thought she forgot about it,” she said. “Now I know the truth.”

Eve sighed. “It gave me so much stress.”

Soyou gasped, remembering something. “A lot of the scenes were cut, but you’d keep asking us random questions. ‘Would you rather fight a crocodile or a bear?’” She imitated Eve.

“It’s because I was trying to ease the tension,” Eve explained. “Sometimes the trainees would be so nervous and they’d be tense, so I’d start a conversation to make everyone comfortable.”

“They only showed your questions in the last few episodes and by that time we had gotten used to them. ‘What are you going to ask today?’”

Eve nodded absentmindedly. “We’re supposed to be making cocktails,” she suddenly said. Turning to her ingredients, she looked at the recipe.

Soyou also focused again on making her drink. “I totally forgot!”

Eve put the instructed amount of ice in the shaker, putting the lid on afterwards. “This is the part I’m scared of. I think I’ll make a mess.”

“Just use your arm muscles to keep the lid on,” Soyou said, measuring her simple syrup to put in her shaker.

“I don’t have arm muscles, though. I don’t exercise them.” She tapped her arms.

Soyou gasped, adding mint to her shaker. “Really?”

“I only exercise my legs and abs.”

“You need to exercise your whole body though.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never been in a situation where there wasn’t anyone with arm muscles, so I don’t need them.” She looked to the staff members behind the camera. “Who would like to shake this for me?” She asked, smiling sweetly.

When no one volunteered, she sighed. “I guess I’ll just do it by myself.” She put the lid on, tentatively picking up the shaker. She shook it once, barely moving it, before putting it down again with a shake of her head. “It’s gonna splash everywhere,” she told everyone. “I really need help.”

One of the cameramen walked towards her, taking the shaker from the table. He shook it a few times before placing it back on the table and walking away. “Thank you!” Eve thanked, taking the lid off. “If I did it, it wouldn’t be this nice.”

Soyou put the lid on her shaker, picking it up and shaking it like an expert.

“Shake it, shake it. Shake it, shake it, shake it,” Eve sang KARA’s Rock U as Soyou shook her shaker.

Soyou placed her shaker on the table after finishing shaking it. She took the lid off, looking inside. “It looks pretty good,” she noted.

The girls finished making their cocktails, pouring them in their glasses, talking as they did.

“We’ve finished cocktail making,” Eve announced, “and now we’ll move onto cocktail tasting.

They both tasted their cocktails, groaning in shock at the taste.

“It tastes good!” Soyou exclaimed, taking another sip. “It’s really good.”

Eve took kitten sips of her Tequila Sunrise. “Everyone, if you need a bartender, just call me. I can do it so well,” she bragged.

“Let me taste.” Soyou approached Eve, holding her hand out to receive Eve’s glass. Once she had it in her hand, she passed Eve her Ivy Gimlet. “This is also really good!” She exclaimed, widening her eyes at the taste.

“We can both be bartenders!” Eve cheered after tasting Soyou’s drink. “If you had made the Toilet Water drink, you wouldn’t qualify for a bartender.”

Soyou belted out a laugh, placing Eve’s Tequila Sunrise on the table. “Why not?”

“You have to make tasty drinks to be a bartender… I think,” she explained, swapping Soyou’s drink for hers. She went to the cameraman who had helped her with the shaking of her cocktail. “Enjoy the fruits of your labour,” she said, giving him the glass. “Stop,” she instructed, seeing him take a big gulp.

When she retrieved her glass, half of the drink was gone. She stared at him in shock. “If you’re thirsty, you should drink water,” Eve mumbled, walking back to the table. She gasped as she briefly looked at the recipe.

“What is it?” Soyou asked, sipping her drink.

“I was supposed to add ice.” Eve stared at her cocktail with a blank expression before shrugging. “Oh well.” She sipped her cocktail.

“This brings us to the end of the video,” she announced, causing Soyou to whine. “Please introduce your comeback and say your final remarks.”

“I’m making a comeback with my second mini album, Summer Recipe,” Soyou said, “and the title track Aloha. It’s an upbeat summer song and it also features Bora.”

[SISTAR members together forever]

“I hope you listen to the song a lot and show it love,” she concluded as the staff cheered for her.

“How did you find today’s episode?” Eve asked.

“Very fun! I got to make a cocktail–” she waved her glass around– “and got to see Nabi-yah, who I haven’t seen in a while. It was a good chance to catch up and we’ll probably still talk some more after we finish filming.”

[They did, in fact, keep talking]

“I’m glad you enjoyed today,” Eve told Soyou before facing the camera once more. “I hope you enjoyed this video and please remember to listen to Aloha.” She waved at the camera. “See you soon! Bye, I love you!”

reactions

tagging: @seolboba // @ateezivy // @ateezjuliet // @cafemilk-tea // @smh-anon // @alixnsuperstxr // @cosmicwintr // @girlzwfun // @txt-yaomi

©️ kim nabi

#ficnetfairy #itzy 6th member #itzy sixth member #itzy oc #itzy addition #itzy added member #itzy extra member #itzy member au #itzy imagines #kpop oc #kpop addition #kpop added member #kpop extra member #kpop au #kpop imagines #kim nabi #eve kim #itzy eve

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yvettecyrus · 9 months ago

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┈ ⟡ ( 𝑦𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑦𝑟𝑢𝑠 ) !

name. yvette (eve) cyrus | age. 30 | 12/09 | sagittarius.

occupation. tracker. (hides her occupation as a writer) | single

British, born in London, England. raised in NYC.

sexual orientation. bisexual.

┈ ⟡ ( 𝑝𝚑𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 ) !

dark brunette, wavy semi-long hair and dark chocolate colored eyes. Slim fit athletic body (very flexible and quick, trained in the martial arts)

aesthetic lies in casual dark modern style, consuming of numerous leather jackets and anything lacking of color.

faceclaim: daisy johnson voice claim: lily collins.

┈ ⟡ ( 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 ) !

reserved an nonchalant, she’s guarded, maybe not as much as a loner as john wick but it does take a while to finally get her to open up. she gets flustered easily, which also comes along with her tendency to overthink.

she’s smart and calculated, easily finding ways around a problem because of her wit. she’s always willing to help someone help if they really need it, but is expecting something in return.

is seen working proficiently in her workspace; a bit of a perfectionist, she works only to deem in high success. I mean, she even graduated in an Ivy League.

Negative attributes. doesn’t usually empathize with others, seeming bitter and cold. People in her workspace have warned others to not interact with her, due to her guarded well being.

Positive attributes. Extremely loyal and is willing to do what needs to be done for the ones she loves. Has motherly attributes, black cat energy and listens to other since she usually remains quiet.

Weaknesses. easily jealous, mean, impatient and tends to get angered easily, avoidant attachment style.

Likes. Cats, being alone in her room work, music, having someone around that has the opposite personality of her ( creates a good contrast, she might seem annoyed at first but deep down she enjoys it).

Dislikes. Disloyalty, liars, anyone inefficient and narcissists.

🐈‍⬛🦢☕️. spotify playlist.

┈ ⟡ ( 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠𝚑𝑖𝑝𝑠 ) !

Relationships based on those she has already met.

John Wick: Acquaintance (started off as friends but due to busy schedules and work their relationship grew apart)

Winston: Mentor (helped guide her through the criminal underworld, training her and appointing her the job of a tracker).

Charon: Acquaintance (friend of Winston’s)

Chara: Pet cat (female black american shorthair.)

┈ ⟡ ( 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 ) !

Yvette Cyrus was born in London, England, to a British father and an American mother. Her parents moved to New York City when she was young, seeking better opportunities. Growing up in the bustling city, Yvette witnessed both the glamour and the grit of urban life. Her parents, although hardworking, struggled to make ends meet, which instilled in Yvette a drive for success and financial stability.

From a young age, Yvette showed a natural aptitude for martial arts, thanks to her father's insistence on self-defense training. She excelled in various disciplines, developing agility and combat skills that would serve her well in her future endeavors. However, her parents had dreams of her pursuing a more conventional career, perhaps in law or academia.

Despite their aspirations, Yvette found herself drawn to the shadows of the criminal underworld that lurked in the city's underbelly. While attending an Ivy League university, she secretly delved into the world of espionage and clandestine operations, honing her skills as a covert operative. It was during this time that she crossed paths with characters like Winston and Charon, who recognized her potential and offered her guidance in navigating the treacherous landscape of assassins and mercenaries, working as a tracker.

Upon graduation, Yvette concealed her true occupation under the guise of a writer, using her cover to discreetly carry out contracts and eliminate targets with surgical precision. Her reserved demeanor and guarded nature made her an enigmatic figure among her peers, earning her a reputation as a formidable but unpredictable presence in the criminal underworld.

Despite her reluctance to form close bonds, Yvette developed a mutual respect and camaraderie with figures like John Wick, who saw in her a kindred spirit burdened by the weight of their pasts. Their interactions were marked by a shared understanding of the harsh realities of their profession, tempered by moments of silent solidarity and unspoken trust.

They don’t speak too often, the both of them too equally busy to ever interact.

As Yvette navigates the murky waters of betrayal and deception, she grapples with her own inner demons, haunted by the ghosts of her past and the choices that led her down this path. Yet, beneath her stoic facade lies a fierce determination to carve out her own destiny and defy the expectations placed upon her by society and circumstance.

#yvettecyrus

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simxessbee · 24 days ago

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New Years Eve

As Autumn emerged from the bathroom, she felt like a completely different person. The fitted jumpsuit she’d chosen shined under the apartment lights, and her bold red lipstick screamed confidence. Ivy, already dressed and ready, let out an exaggerated cheer.

“Who is she?!” Ivy teased, clapping her hands. “Girl, if Anthony could see you now, he’d regret ever leaving town tonight.”

Autumn laughed, feeling her mood lift. “You really know how to hype a girl up, huh?”

“It’s what I do.” Ivy pulled out her phone. “Now, we have to get some pictures before we hit the club. Come on!”

They struck their best poses, giggling between clicks, and then headed out the door.

Their destination was Ultra, a sleek nightclub they’d been to countless times but somehow always felt fresh and exciting.

As they approached, they breezed past the long line, leaving Autumn momentarily confused.

“How are we skipping all these people?” she asked.

Ivy grinned and shrugged. “I’ve got pull with the bouncer,” she explained, giving a playful wink.

Autumn laughed, not surprised by her friend's connections, and they stepped inside, ready to enjoy the night.

They breezed through the entrance and made a beeline for the bar. The bass thumped through the walls as Ivy ordered tequila shots to kick off the night.

“To nights we don’t remember, with friends we’ll never forget!” Ivy shouted, raising her glass.

“To that!” Autumn clinked her glass with Ivy’s, downing the tequila in one go.

Once their drinks were finished, they headed straight for the dancefloor. The music wrapped around Autumn like a warm embrace, and she let herself sink into the rhythm. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped. The lights, the music, the crowd—it all blurred together as she basked in the sheer joy of being alive.

She couldn’t help but smile. Despite the rocky start to her evening, she was grateful for the life she lived and for friends like Ivy who always knew how to lift her spirits.

As the night wore on, they took over the dancefloor, laughing and twirling as if no one else existed. Whether or not they were actually good dancers was irrelevant—the tequila was telling them they were the stars of the show.

Before leaving, they climbed to the rooftop lounge to take a few pictures. The photos would serve as proof of a night well-spent, even if the details became fuzzy in the morning.

Previous I Next

#my sims #black sims 4 #black simblr #sims 4 cc #sims 4 gameplay #the sims 4 #simblr #the sims community #new simblr #new sims blog #simxessbee #autumn's story

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timeofjuly · 1 year ago

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Resolutions

Note: Reader's POV of the New Year's Eve when they met Red. So sorry for the wait to the anon who requested this! As a warning, reader is very much in an altered state of mind due to drug use in this one, so proceed with caution.

Tags: Drug use, implied sexual content, angst, self-hatred.

Read it on AO3 or read it below :)

It’s New Year's Eve and you feel fucking fantastic.

You look hot. You feel hot, both in terms of your confidence in your appearance and the temperature; it’s sweltering in Izzy’s apartment. Too many people crammed into a too small space. It feels like there’s hands everywhere. Your skin is alight with warmth and touch, so many people close to you. They grow on you like vines, like weeds, like ivy, weaving ‘round and ‘round until you’re all bound together, one pulsing, living organism.

The music is so loud that it’s an almost palpable presence in the air; you can viscerally feel it filling your ears, pressing against your skin, pouring down your mouth when you open it to sing. It clings to you like plastic wrap as you dance, shaping your movements.

Sweat runs down your back and between your breasts. But you’re the hottest fucking thing in this room, right, so it just gives you a mysterious, sexy sheen, like you’re a fucking nymph or some shit, stepping out from behind a waterfall, batting your eyelashes at the Olympian raging to fuck you. You’re ready to be drowned in ambrosia. To choke on nectar. Swallow swallow swallow.

Fuck, your mouth is dry. Your tongue feels like sandpaper. Is this how cats feel, with their arid, pointysharp little tongues? You hope not, the poor things. This sucks.

“I need a drink,” you shout against the music, jaw clicking around the words, “anyone else want one?”

Izzy, your host, nods enthusiastically. She springs up from where she’d been dancing low to the floor and grasps your sweaty hand in her own cooler, scaly one. “I’ll come with you! I need a piss.”

You let her drag you from the throng of bodies into the bathroom, where you scroll on your phone as she sits down to pee. Your vision’s pleasantly blurry, but you manage to successfully reply to a few messages and send a few of your own. You then examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, mostly pleased with the way your hair falls, the way your makeup makes your eyes look dark and sultry. You apply a fresh coat of lipstick and smack your lips together, making faces at your reflection. The skin on your cheekbones stretches tightly, almost too-taunt, casting a sharp shadow.

For a moment, you don’t feel as pretty as you had before, but then your thirst returns with a vengeance, and you forget all about it. You stick your head in the sink, mouth poised and open beneath the tap, and drink deeply from the cool, refreshing water. Probably should’ve waited to do your lipstick, but ah well.

“You look like a horse,” Izzy snorts at you, hip-checking you to the side so that she can wash her hands. “When you said you wanted a drink, I thought you meant booze, bunny, not water.”

“A girl can want two things,” you say. Have enough and it all tastes the same, anyway.

Bunny is what this particular social circle likes to call you. You don’t really get it, but nicknames aren’t ever chosen by the person, are they, and it’s hardly the worst name in the world. You like bunnies, anyway. They’re cute. Fluffy, funny little things. They’re either pets or pests or lab animals, too, and somedays you feel like a mangled amalgamation of all three, so you guess it’s fitting.

Izzy washes and dries her hands and then does a line of coke off of the countertop. She offers you a bump, but you decline – tonight, you’re pacing yourself.

This year, you want to watch the time tick over to midnight, and you want to remember it. You’d gotten too fucked-up last year too early and had been out like a light by ten, so being awake and cognizant for this one is your resolution, or some shit. You don’t really do resolutions, but this one seems achievable enough. Stay up and ring in the New Year. Yeah, you can do that, you beautiful, gorgeous, magical creature. The world is ready to be bent to your whims. Midnight’s a piece of cake.

You follow Izzy back out into the party and to the kitchen, riffling through her fridge for a decent mixer. You end up pouring orange juice into two glasses, along with a healthy serve of tequila. If you had any grenadine on hand, you’d have yourself a proper sunrise.

You sit on the kitchen countertop to drink it, bare legs swinging lazily in the air. Izzy sits next to you, her hip pressed against your own. Her hand rests atop your thigh, drawing little patterns with the tip of her claw. The sensation makes ticklish goosebumps erupt all over your legs.

Your head is buzzing like it’s full of bees and it’s making your vision go a little funny. You blink a few times, then scan the apartment in an attempt to refocus your eyes. The party is still a writhing, pulsating mass, moving with the thrum of the music. Everyone looks so beautiful. You wish that you could live in this moment forever.

You know everyone – at least, you think you do – so you’re surprised when your eyes fall on someone you’ve never met before. He’s a monster, a skeleton monster, dressed in an oversized, dark jacket with a furry hood. He’s reclined on Izzy’s shitty sofa, looking easy and relaxed. His legs are spread wide, which you normally find obnoxious, but he’s really making it work for him. As you watch, he brings a bottle of something to his skull, and scarlet magic flickers to life inside of his mouth as he drinks. You watch, eyes wide.

The red of his magic looks hot – red-hot, you think, holding back a snort at your creativity. You knew someone, once, who would’ve had a far better, more eloquent, poetic way of describing it, but you’re refusing to think of her tonight. Even that tiny little reminder sends cold skittering through you, so you wrench your focus back to the guy and his magic. You wonder if it’s as warm as it looks. It looks like it’d heat you up from the outside-in.

That sounds amazing right now.

“Who’s that?” you say, transfixed. There’s an eager breathiness in your voice.

“What?” Izzy says, tapping the side of her head.

“Who is that?” you shout in Izzy’s ear, loud enough to be heard over the music. You gesture towards the sofa with your chin.

“He’s a friend of one of the birds, I think,” she says dismissively, “can’t remember his name right now.”

“He’s hot as fuck. Please tell me he’s single. It’ll ruin my whole year and the next ones if he’s not.”

She cackles. Her laughter takes up her whole face, splitting it down the middle like an axe wound to the head. You have the urge to shove your finger into her open mouth, but she probably won’t find it funny. She’d probably bite you, actually, with her sharp little teeth, and the Tylenol and antibiotics you’d get as a result are hardly worth the hospital trip. Now, if she took off your whole finger, you’d get oxycodone or hydromorphone at the very least, but they probably wouldn’t mix well with the rest of the pharmacy’s worth of drugs in your bloodstream.

And you’d also miss midnight. You can’t have that.

“You’re so funny, bunny,” Izzy giggles at you. She throws her arm around you and tugs you to her side. “I love you soooo much.”

You hug her back, pressing your face into the cool hollow of her neck. You choke on your muffled laughter. The hug feels really nice. “Love you too.”

You do, in this moment. You’re full of enough love that you’re afraid it’s all going to spill out of you, tear through your skin and flood the entire apartment. You love love. So much. Feels so good.

Izzy pulls back from the hug, then brings her own glass to your lips. You drink greedily. She doesn’t pull it away until you’ve drained the whole thing.

“Pretty sure he’s single, so go ring in the New Year the right way,” she says, pulling you from the countertop and giving you a friendly smack on the ass to spur you on.

Not that you need a lot of encouragement. You fix your sexiest smile to your face and do your best impression of a lingerie model’s saunter down the runway as you stride towards him, snagging a pair of shot glasses as you go.

…

Opening your eyes is a fucking ordeal.

The ceiling of Izzy’s darkened guest bedroom greets your dry, crusty vision. The fan on the ceiling spins in slow, lazy rotations, sending cool wafts of air over your bare body.

Your muscles ache, in a good way, as you pull yourself up into a sitting position, your legs stretched out in front of you. You look down at your chest and find it decorated with several pretty red marks and the memory of receiving them sends remembered pleasure shivering through you. You knew that the guy would be a great fuck; maybe you’ve just got a sixth sense for shit like this.

Speaking of the guy, he’s still asleep. Ha, you must’ve worn him out, just like he did to you. He’s lying on his back, skull turned to the side, so his face is half buried into the pillow. The sheets are kicked messily around his feet.

You watch the way his ribcage expands and contracts with his breathing. So strange, breathing with no lungs. What purpose does it serve? Does he have to do it, the way you do?

You imagine, for a moment, your own lungs, wet and pulpy and probably black with tar and pockmarked with holes, imagine them filling and deflating with air. You hold your breath until your vision goes fuzzy just to feel the way they strain against the confines of your chest. The burn reminds you that there’s something inside of you. Something warm and real.

You look back at your bedpartner, at all of that empty space inside of him. You wonder if he feels the hole as part of himself, if he walks and talks and eats and fucks, all the while perceiving that absence. You wonder if he feels like you do sometimes, like a discarded orange rind, all of your insides scooped out until just the smooth outside remains.

Something prickles at your eyes. You feel dizzy. A little sick.

You exhale in a deep, desperate rush, suddenly remembering that you have to breath. You take a few ragged inhales, deep ones, to make up for the oxygen you’d been deprived of.

Your chest hurts. Your head hurts, too, a dull throb. Either you’ve just accidently almost asphyxiated yourself, or it’s time for a top-up. The ecstasy’s probably worn off by now; that’s probably why you’re feeling this way. Yeah, that’s it. The comedown always sucks.

You have no other reason to be sad, after all. You sit here, freshly fucked, muscles aching pleasantly. The party downstairs still beats on, a riotous chorus of early two thousands throwback music and laughter. You can feel the thrum of the base in your blood. The world is alive around you. Revel in that. Be happy for that. This is your life. You chose it. You made it this way. You have to live it, now.

Yep, definitely time for a top-up. Izzy owes you; you can scum a little extra off of her. You don’t remember why she owes you, exactly, but a favour’s a favour. S’not like you to look a gift horse in the mouth. Take the goodness as it comes and let go of the bad. Breath in again. Breath out. Keep reminding yourself to do it, so you don’t forget.

You fumble underneath the pillows and retrieve your phone. The cracked screen reads 12:36am. You have a dozen unread messages, drunken New Years well-wishes from names you can’t put a face to.

Your mom and dad used to always stay up late on New Years Eve, drinking port wine and watching Christmas movies until they’d fall asleep on the couch together. It was their tradition. As a kid, you begged them to let you stay up with them, but you always fell asleep before the clock struck midnight and you’d wake up on January first in your bedroom, your dad having carried you to bed.

Every year, your New Years resolution was to stay awake next time long enough to watch the clock tick over to midnight. There was something magical about it as a child, the idea of peeling away the old paint of the past year to reveal the shiny, fresh surface of the new.

You wonder if your parents are awake now, watching the end of the Polar Express and drinking out of those funny little port glasses.

Your bedpartner stirs, murmuring sleepily into his pillow. He’s drooling. It’s cute. You get the feeling, from the way that he’d fucked you, that he’s not the kinda guy who appreciate being called that, though.

Those type of guys are always the cutest.

If he’d woken up, you would’ve told him that, but he doesn’t. He just settles back into the pillow. You do throw the blanket over his naked pelvis, though, because you’re considerate like that. Nice girl. Sweet girl. Bunny. Everyone likes you. You’re so much fun. And you’re having fun. Buckets of it. Enough to drown in it.

You slide your bare feet onto the cold floor and begin the search for your shoes. Happy New Year to me.

#parallel circuits #the electrician #red #red/reader #thank you again anon :)

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photogrivy · 8 months ago

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Ivy wasn’t the most fashionable person around – most of the time, she found that looking hot in New York also meant having money – but she had long since perfected the perfect cat eye. Her hair spilled down around her shoulders in their natural waves, eyeliner sharp, and eyeshadow blended perfectly to match, she couldn’t help but think she looked pretty hot. Her top of choice for the day was low-cut – she was making a point to show off all her best assets – and she was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged her ass so perfectly, you’d need to be registered legally blind not to notice it.

It wasn’t that Ivy thought that she needed to dress up to go and hang out with Chess – and even now, she was still keeping it fairly casual – but she knew the other girl was nervous to see her today. With Hazel at school and spending the afternoon with Joey and Micah, Chess had announced that her schedule was free all day today, leaving it open for Ivy to stop by if she wished. With Kian looking to pick up some extra shifts, and Max too busy with Louis to be hitting the ice with Ivy, it meant she had no work responsibilities to worry about, and all the time in the world for a pretty Australian.

Being perceived as desperate or slutty wasn’t something Ivy tended to worry herself with anymore, truth be told. She liked sex and she didn’t think there was any shame in the fact, so long as it was healthy and consensual, and nobody was getting hurt. That said, her offer to Chess had come from a place of good intentions. While she’d never personally say no to sleeping with someone as hot as Chess, she wasn’t putting herself out there to scratch any particular itch, but moreso because she genuinely liked the other girl and appreciated her friendship. While Ivy had harbored her own suspicions about Chess’ sexuality before their kiss, it had grown increasingly more obvious after New Year’s Eve that the woman was struggling to wrap her head around what had happen. Knowing yourself and understanding what you wanted in life came a lot easier to some people, and it didn’t seem fair to laugh at Chess or make her feel small for feeling a little lost now that she was experiencing something a little different.

It had been about 15 minutes since she’d arrived at the other girl’s apartment, with Chess welcoming her in with a warm, pretty smile and an awkward hug. Now, perched on the edge of her sofa, Ivy watched as she busied herself aimlessly with random chores that she had no doubt the single mother had just fabricated out of nowhere. Amused, she observed as Chess picked up a heap of paperwork that had been resting on the coffee table, straightened it out, and then simply moved it to the dining table instead.

“Okay, alright, babe? Calm down,” Ivy called out to her, hoping to draw her back to the present. “I can practically hear your inner monologue right now.”

She knew that Chess was panicking, but she hadn’t come here to freak the other girl out. It didn't matter to Ivy if the two of them spent the entire day fooling around and making each other come, or if they watched New Girl reruns while eating two-day old takeout.

“You know, we can just hang out? Like, if you’re nervous, or if you’ve changed your mind,” Ivy told her, desperate to reassure the other girl. She gently patted the space next to her on the sofa, gesturing for Chess to join her. “Just come sit down, please?”

#thread: chess3 #ft. chess

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desktopdisko · 11 months ago

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Desktop Disko's B-Rotation Top 50 (2024 #03)

Youtube Musicvideo Playlist: DD's B-Rotation Playlist 2024 #03

01 Goat Girl: ride around 02 Social Dance: Sometimes 03 Angus & Julia Stone: Cape Forestier (NEW) 04 Juliet Ivy: We're All Eating Each Other 05 Maya Hawke: Missing Out 06 Lauren Eve Scheff: Nothing to Prove 07 DIIV: Brown Paper Bag 08 Warpaint: Common Blue 09 Sevana: Lowe Mi - 2K24 Re-Release 10 Ibibio Sound Machine: Pull the Rope (NEW)

11 Janelane: Love Letters (NEW) 12 Khruangbin: May Ninth 13 Hurray for the Riff Raff: Hawkmoon 14 Aili: Fashion 15 Grandaddy: Long as I'm Not the One 16 Holly Macve: 1995 17 Saya Gray: AA Bouquet for Your 180 Face 18 Kevin Holliday: I Want You (NEW) 19 Freeze the Fall: Glitch 20 Jade Bird feat. Mura Masa: Burn the Hard Drive

21 Elbow: Lovers' Leap 22 Dahlias: Ella 23 Suki Waterhouse: OMG 24 Jordan Rakei: Freedom (NEW) 25 Kirsten Ludwig: Sunbeam (NEW) 26 Waxahatchee: Bored 27 Norah Jones: Paradise (NEW) 28 Richard Hawley: Two for His Heels 29 The Smile: Friend of a Friend 30 OMD: Kleptocracy

31 Skunk: 2 Wicky 32 lotusbliss: Tear Me Apart 33 The Church: A Strange Past 34 Alycia Lang: Bad Luck 35 Ariana Grande: we can't be friends - wait for your love (NEW) 36 Pearl Jam: Dark Matter 37 The Indien: How Many Nights (NEW) 38 Royel Otis: Foam 39 Keaper: Alone 40 Mooneye: Too Fast

41 Jane Weaver: Romantic Worlds 42 Madison Galloway: Love Like Yours 43 Faye Webster feat. Lil Yachty: Lego Ring 44 Rosegarden Funeral Party: Doorway Ghost 45 The Black Keys: I Forgot to Be Your Lover 46 Samantha Savage Smith: Wholesomely Made 47 The Marías: Run Your Mouth (NEW) 48 iomfro: Sammenbidte Tænder (NEW) 49 Miakie & Ethan Jupe: Want the Goosebumps (NEW) 50 Fan Club: Westbound (NEW)

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iphoneartgirl · 1 year ago

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Native Cam

Okay, done gone 'n got mixed up with 'nother ramblin man, I reckon.

But Joshua Rascal Walker's Sunday nite ramble made it clear I ain't no young fool schoolgirl no more.

Was right pleased when my little Man done showed up the next mornin' after vanishin'bout 5 PM. Scared me half to death, couldn't figure how he got away and still ain't sure how he got back.

Ain't got no sleep Sunday eve, either. All's I wanted was to heave afore he come back. My feelings was all tangled up when he showed up, you could say.

He was dirty as a hog in slop, no denyin' that.

So, afta'bit, I done washed him, real gentle-like. When I got the water pressure just so, he started tremblin' them lips, shakin'em like Elvis. Whole lotta shakin' goin' on, not the bad sort - happy shakin. Eyes shut, head thrown back, arms spread wide.

When it was done, I gave him a soft towelin' off. No noisy, nerve-janglin' hot air blowers messin' with my man. Oh no, no, no. Mama takes proper care of her little Man.

Ain't nothin' but the best for my Josh.

Once we made our way back home, he took hissef a good nap. (Lord knows he needed it after whatever he was up to that night...)

Once he woke up, I fetched him a toy to tear into. Then we had ourselves a real serious talk 'bout how I got needs to understand when he needs his own space.

Before, not afta.

Modern woman I am, value my independence. We don't gotta be clingin' like ivy.

But I told him I gots t'be in charge of when I'm gettin' some SPACE in this relationship. Can't have "space" sneakin' up on me from behind.

At 73, it ain't like when I was young and could be runnin' round plasterin' poles with lost dog posters. Them energetic days are long gone. My nerves can't take it when someone I love just up and disappears.

This week marks two months of me 'n' Josh together, a real tale like Harold and Maude. He's a year and a half, but he's got an old soul, 'bout 45 in there. Me, I'm 73, feelin' like a sprightly 13 ½.

Both of us tryin' our hardest to make sense of what's betwixt us 'cause we fancy each other, even though we're worlds apart.

So, I wants y'all to know I done made my peace with our boundary conversation so’s you can help hold me to it.

Jus' look at Josh's face in that picture up top and you'll see he gave the situation a genuine ponder.

The way he worked it out in his mind was to go on and sign right up for a shiny new Discover Card, gettin’ DOUBLE CASH BACK on all his buys till year’s end. Promised he’d hand over the cash to Mama soon as it comes.

Since we ain't been together long, I reckoned I could make do with that for now. Me bein’ a fire survivor and all, I needs the help.

Would rather jus'be with him all day, every day, but seems he ain't quite ready for that level of spiritual commitment. So 'til he is, I'll keep on truckin' as his Material Girl Mama, livin' in a material world... takin' all that double cash back he'll hand over.

❤️🎶🎼🎹💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻😍

But that's not what l'm in this for wit’him. I want the whole enchilada. I want his whole heart.

I can be patient.

But, I can already see most of his double cash back goin' towards me buyin' him toys ‘cause he tears 'em up faster'n a jackrabbit.

Yet, what else can I do? That little critter's so dadgum cute, I can't hardly take my eyes or hands offa him.

I need all y’all to help hold me to my short-term compromise now, y’hear?

And I still am going to be thankin’ all y’all my whole life for helpin’ me get through that ramblin’ nite. You just let me know if one of your love ones goes ramblin’ and I’ll be prayin’ with you till they come home.

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libidomechanica · 2 months ago

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Untitled # 12847

A ballad sequence

Foaming arms. Were sometimes of the dreams. The hears the house hert’s bed; the afterward. Lord Henry, who was free the sun hae

love, homeward cording more here is supply: so right—which from night, but first like a gift of people pillow and women?

Then them most within me thus, the help her) she same. The last midnight, as many fine; were can I protest, but Scripture to the same. The involuntary sigh over me; yet envy me; is a mask I would lovers dare! I chariot stone glitter heart of her,

and thy pain, seal’d heart! And the altars ally’d in his large dark eye shown, a very clasp, then we must I things happy this also our sink warm and went they spect you shall begin to wreak venge! If everywhere are left the cedar- shadowy brother win; and ever

stories and what I have lay? And looks, thy fault was trance witche, not the guest regiment; at length, but its she. Through’s many a topic die. In their comin’ I have love Gregory! As if the devil strange, to enioyeth, leaving nature the sleep: they explode into the

ear brunette could ne’er though I dinna can, where by the gave feature cannie o’ leesome province Eve ate accused me underness, he’s thro’ the sea placed without manner placed to enter, so I thou wert as the Hall! Close to meet her day; the nectar unto Maud in his

hand from the European your to prize, a license. Desires of their solstice bethought that are like thought her early immortal flies would not up, my skil with rose up in the kept a bonny sky, how what vertuous worthy tears, and if every night, as I’ll trembleme.

Ere if it gone. Yet me in the land; when the murderously morning of any hope to stagnate, tells here was of angels at he is all their soft intense, within the fancy; is a grand imaginating place! Forgot you, the apart; alas the harps

she. Pink to the burdens to singers, which disdained. Be those still arrive while now a passion wast in sounding natures of the stories the kept the lovers of Jerusalem, that can obey, to say, welcome nae scatter’d within a moment its shee destroy. Redress

in my life’s oppress’d, let us breast dancers; ever-dying, fell in verse, thoughts be not be that bare turneth towards ritch, you murder to wage, and smooth mortal without thus tho’ father Counted, at last, for cover more the waving tower, those for those flowers, and

her carrying a thing a moment felt for often inclosed in Sleeper trouble wild-flowers built though resembled him with translate; as equal perilously modern subsist; till keep, The places; whatever movies, friends. There dreams my fair; o’er a blind that

your red by the soul so clear. With her and let me, if I lie, till passed a female, past with Ignorant, thou happy is beckon’d, and through deface them. Row sleeping strange not you, cat of gold we shut until the Sun: ’ the sign their hospitality of her task, ’ he

cause after pinion, long put let us smiling flame; serenest helpless would it dare not borne of a solution: the strument; and that could urged air, ready to me so fierce name is style if but with daintye Daysies do reaping sweet there’er dull sleeps the nature cast

on the Cross my loving name. It were the gude replace of them warmth express diversions mind. She has stories, and marriage; the has well thus two armies. Still, t is one Circassian, and let a purer joys than I’ll true blood pleasures, or moon lay the hearts bleeding and,

well drink of metaphor, what has advertise hang that purport, ere mind, at notes; and now also kept with mild, garden of Engedi. Such a dark-dawning gushing with the other pale ivy credulous shades everywhere flames of Lebanon: looks some by pleasant:

a gentleness! I care o’er trembling, dying, yes: we were shore; such as a Sphinx. Upon sandy foot of counts of my cheek laid will shoe is working that forth at a fair Annie, ’ as next reade of tree; syne as it glided out the pas—the same to enter barons, look

at even to ye, my wear on the past a fox, daybreak of dogs, the giddy Heaven, brief I love. An arm in the can no more remain despised be for from our old-fashioned its firmness—know even if sprinkled in requite smart to kiss me he sultan, above

to thy either seasons, and happiness the March of my Soul. And each his flock of those darken’d myself—beside my fruit; and sight have those like a wiser epic unto his adventuries Hardsman, we will see have proved methods t is spun or but never in.

’ The great tribe; with ripe for hissing others cannot for human, we ponderfong my life’s tale cheek laid out, circled Irish maids their nature, and the old that, like a read and the in command of pleasant from curious horoscope to sails o’ crammed with vacant echoes—

like and heau’nly harp; the dear. Ae blink of goats, that touch was many a glean’d a ball which gracious of the chil love; before to you and any other. Its serve and whirl’d from the with newest group, on someth here figured, and thought all was happiness;—but all it.

And happy date await then ryse yeeres more be what is know no far, till we lie, deck’d em, but no hideous froze.

There also that the night all be a resurrect an advertise have fact; from the whole of the great a seal’d, not a

dream; so that she wood1 there the dead joy beets into the human find, being, dying. And whate’er unaway, the Beauty

a-wee; but i just all thee, crown of the Nini, but the rags of everywhereof. Be like a jewels, too, the

little day of these worst or night weight, it is her been of us thought it or praise becomes who madness mine, mine is

passing in the grave in one dropped with was o’ then, in russet jack jargon, thought without she halls, the day. As boys have

that the neighbour own well; not bought have plenty: so live bee, and that at thick so harvest office, and this spoilt be still

words; sweet kernel; to see but a long impress court a thou too, but kind only discussion, shame, and sterns show, hollow

have been the gleam luridly.- Oblivious frame, life a live any thine heard, but your Highness and raiment; at least

nighting eyes are bridges! I crave me undo his mine, lasse, that deed, but sheepe vs wake some to go so far have been

do, but yonder Friend! It fill my milking from lips, thou leave to ye, my lad, his was the walls her in the situation,

but kindled aloes, and Lady Daphne! At the voice will softer meet. Grew, at length, but mine, where angry with a

round us nothing—I come to heart of thy let the presario, making shadow of all my call! Postpone to

be well as half of esteem, who late, he keen dreamed your village- cotted ourselves attemperative lightes with

lullaby be with then retreat. Ready to the prized the best weary, watch’d me still my mind, love, from me; is a gift, my

sister, the wile you can be idle rain in her snapp’d on altars away; and lullaby my neighbour green somewhere

can; who his the sepulchral glove each might sail at least had newly terrible ermine which indeed: we were than to

revell’d thus Lord Henry Silver. In the saw such skies away. Woman, and thus chamber- colouring against me thus.

A strove with Ins and know it, in the kiss’d to heart; This is cram him not, O that footprint harden where met, and both rebellious chatter’d by the World was to the strangels trees. Him who loved again with may yet I am so fair;

and feather’s—fix’d Gothic found his guiltless it an else, of angels shines it be a weep my pillars that that spent its hardly dost rooted in your waking a shone, for feathe, half- oblivion yesters found her must be mute does with no

great excuse to kisses and in our skill, if a hawks with fine,—a turk, with of Eden; the pastrie: of flower deep so sore and rare, or consequel; no more that ensues feet and hardenias bliss on the faem, from the charms he story to

grow warmth expresses? He gaze of the fruit; the strike delights. And stumbled as quiet wood1 then locks, happy as he same, a gather all: others country soul! Most sweet babes to their level is to escaped by their grew like a think the glance,

but down heavens, and calm with broadening. Gone for one, until, and said that I force, the with the star whom the least nights are gone, that those Corner the be more. And horses may join the gullet should be deck o’ my meditary part of glass,

in cataract leave her lips, and pure did I liue and so introduced to gie and bought to my laden he the seem it an aisle. And sharply this many thought. Of Natures have were not Virtues on day, far- off fowls hae betimes

her she watch’d, still, with the part, and let none chance. She had our hand. Viewing graceful neck with faithfully, and of the edge of low-thought to the spirit from the names rest thou roll, as Phidian miss the great delights, in sacred veil. And our best

to lady to make a new-tuned foreign filth and stoop, and burning I unclasp from an only object, where brought of thinks I seem’d somewhere at poison- flowe. And rashly, to hers in the besides. Other, and forth time had been swear to you.

That, and up to watching stream of foule waves it is confined, ’ song a them; it is in long. Though colour, wait they ho! To the rivulet; and Juan stood from the correct, then to

her lip they who ate, encountry soul love. But I’m not what a little was like the wild a pause. The sound, from the in seasons show too lately towers to pards—and lusts release.

For portrayed conceals into their day; she knew t was you better sweet and may numbers they might English murderous more a North. That free, mortal rains to tells me, my bonny last cannot much you. A crushes speed i’ the past of the

man was it? Love like their longer play us; slave beyond then, with hoary heav’nly fae, unless tendences. For there in earth, tis the neighbour’s shall claim’d hedde. In passion all my doom’d in sorrow, hope; to load arms, where traductioneer. Lie

with mo pencil, but I fountains may bead I drink trumpet mountains what conversation; on his Dagger one of all the past occasion my ain. That I must no man string, and the life arose as one temperation’s day-star? I’ll waft

to see when shore-side, and clouds to best. An auld wish that appear as been the flying: the rich in that ye maun hae I prove had to famished unto look together thee, that spent in a routhie but I make me the waves for yonder a

haw bayberry kame? My middle- aged the restle wae; but I forced a thine. Of Ida: there me thus charms, that I drinking to be guide. And longing gleams decent would be deem’d cheek, in russet jack jar upon my gush’d, but so enviously

morning your future of death. If the sun, and mirk the Atlantic guards, and to bury all both, show your voice: cause thy sweetly she has yield day with such, irregular alone and women are left-legs, which on him too; your lives

we could creature to be won the time, my soul loves. A minute, but to be thee, and cream of the spring strange seizure cannot be continue follows twitter now her, where I said thy gardens to my those dreams my motherwise, my loves.

My back-stile, like a witches me, doth me a bit of the sea? How I hae between to speaks your sober clutched thee to see the sign old detest among through nis torches a place it; give me thy love, I meet. In the mend, at noon: for which

speak of waters, his own toy. Then give touch’d early pulses blooming ring, hath give a loyal spouse a gleams, The present say. If i could we are they? The Muse a million yesterday, meant, and sleep. Each the day his eyes light their art, as ony

brain came the deep at his own his own flame. Be that come, my spouse; a spiry turn the child of Engedi. Condemn: each upon their and goosebumps life whether had between the river and somethinking the lay will relation.

And thy birth till lay that do ye courselves? At kirk or blaze in she was a farms he shaken with his done. Love died: it is the caitiff; opposition; stream of his hear, of all the point we change descry part is believ’d throught with louers.

Ah, more by line, lass, where was sometimes travel, the sky, where I heare doth daylight. Like an earth’s diurnal respectator,

and if I blush one—hawk’d a white vapour magnolia ignite their rule of ivory; things frequench’d away in my

dreams, some pink mallows broke towering of loved, O my doubtful choose, what want of the courteous, ever knew not less was

run; the fever me was bore that the strong First of cedar- shadow will more Quixote, she hand, aye until she flame

will kame to her brough at—the shore, he afternoon at last date, and ever, echoes—like me. An Englishmen, but could

e’er my love, all in army will kissed me throws of life is a voice: much a pun out between the mine, O princess storm?

Or, lover, or goodness, and remembered, devoid of pleas’d eyes. Either I should not tell me and redden’d superficial.

The poet come and ears he shall becomes nae mad, I have touch wilding the herself, for tender the chief resolves

of trees, unless rough but somehow showed the sea, ere two come from an entire red grace she essay’d into one to

see a children of their true colour, on the heads that ye sheep an air and Sap, to brings such wished into his best

recommeth leap in the sea-coal fire but twenty of winterview was to under words? And thousand, and fix, longbow’s phrases

your reflection of mistress; just they: alas the lips, then we stoop, for every nunnery: the hyghest Sleeps well-

sung off the wind blew loud, so kind read, shattering coy, keeps and shine, and, which indeed where though the on the virgin;

beautiful stray: that few, no for thee. But the who both all alone upon some emanationships sendeth are so dost

themselves, supremely spirit, a gold inside by those eyes the bough of winterprise haste desire; and I was

they passion, or the rest, tis the roes, dost thousand him to leaves not by a pilot like cannot be my hearty, the

pilot, ho! An airy Queens, empty art. Who wild? And he spect your bower’d ears for your purple clammy celestial

son at he gay Russian left these hair, song. His eyes from only creed, my little praise enought? Now takes its truth; there taughter;

while I talking to rest, where the most sweet some would gae and flew at a pretence struggle to cock him hidden dreader!

Then the Prince to resigned, whose who are very glory for house Nancy; yet thin thy beloved moment of smoke,

that I am softer me and spring gently with delightfull those smile, where, each harm no please my fair and from the

will I may inter already in his father an’ mother mean to the lawful are moved not tall be cool, drying

girls, where? Well, if left under of lover, and how quietly toward to make heed, dilettante, delicate with looked her

with vain the trees, they loof innocence: but then, maud hath no greaten within my view from me, as a crush on Mother’s—

fix’d ferocity, should not dwelt with the sport even abuse to the Star Chamber did not leave hert’s for late Love’s unclose

our rose our slay us; and twilightful—such as freshly fedde. Where wilt thou to earth; the bravest of a straining.

Lay outward tell in vain shew thee! Were move? Poppies, and him whom those rankle dull nature or a coals of joy and quite

handkerchiefest abyss: whose whole of late await the Head; corrupted to the stand by now how great exactly. For

so; but each watchmen the ostler pain as springs to invited so. Tamed her face, singing must hate in their name! And

on counsel things were, and He shall no more save that: disappoint: my Lady came not when so rouse: the fraud of bright: tis

this keepers; then the yellow, breeze and ranges, thou may! A found contract? I know, as here, to free inform the sport, cannot

wist, my soul, one another, that I have sewn it be blow; my well in; so was cold. And Paradise hat ye calm

in hell as I’ll sad Eloisa yet not your prized hedde. If all troubled bonny ships: it is high state! On the come, thought

of glorious see the gallant and hold, nor pity, where chariots thatch-eves rose-garden I were savourable

made! But her pass’d with a single and prince, and corner traine this cheered after to mountenants passage flying, dying,

through grief. Was not relieve them cruelties, nor dearly green- blue skies. And rudely death a half- kill’d, and syne heart. If she

wears; and arise, so trembling eyes like dying innate lays drag it on the cocking hath no vines sweet face. Your pillow

past there sermon: at all third sex. In simmers harp-strings such immortally divine she pride, the worlds of glories of

an oaths divine spring sweet thy honeycomb: honeysuckle. The foam the worm he market, write it narrows, my pen,

absolve the best. ’—What, is through reluctant to mine: the tropics there. Which those smile, thou be supportion cry Aroint on

her hearts for ever my drew near in my coat; how to poured Florian as was gold. It’s a florid maiden-croft; her

pains: yet we profane his were none to the fruit was it wither sessions might stumbling rare in currender maiden, you!

To her man—the Bores delight strange and tears nodding the listen’d spring of you sung works he dead brow to moved hands and bring corn intense, with of every wondrous porter to the

dying, dying, the croissance, an’ mother noble root on with a Will Resign’d; labour threading pride, which hover, not for a troop going his her to known. Mortal the first

frankincense. Her father’s fire, lifeless, and pure heart I’ll tell what touch’d dose;—hers pluckt, who is broader through thus? That maybe it’s me dream’d a harp rocks beguile; let wealth, foreboding miserable

tepid poor; but I must kiss, unasked me, pardon, so exempt even to the Sheikh, I knocketh, saying, old joys of you see both th’ all-conscience snake, beareth. As

contracter’d by thou and the loue with the right, when to enjoy. Handsome did not on strange now a’ this fills me no more Prayer, unlike a hollow fruictfull of my wanton, like

me a singly unpleasurely, love solemn, as made than the wintered and murmur of its water by far frame: enough she shadow. Troops of Honour passionless first should

to forgive you and each upon my youth but like. Thus much likewise as a books and women: howsoe’er hair, have got a sing. Respect you sung; and oft well a strong. Tho could with wife;

one hole crown this magic moment, he had broken found got, and his fame, to revered I drags in mourn and had no long, my little waves might weight take thy sins enclosed. For the lips

do thy sphere. Gram—my for it also a foolish’d fortune for thy Head! Help, and Matthew stop; and brings, and we in mists green, is useless for mermaid with so bear the prime, was that

her daunton to be recognise? Thou are brough thee thy village chanced, murder. And surround answered, Your baritone than the passee’ and loving, and sees held out with long, so I

thousand, whose she: how vast all that which the dickey— saints winning both; so well the doors, till the neyghbour’s squired; she can ne’er hame? And the winds, rose of all: theyr your desk turning rathers

which his all see their ruled whole weep so strong single season strike a tongue that I have I name, yet let us lodge is expect find ideals might convey’d the world gae made of

air while, which wanted so gay, so suits others, angeless take the grass a Sword, whose eyes, frame window, duly, daily fears, thou art Queen written which my erring cheer. Became threated

against thou art as the worlds have I seen his guerdon: Davus summon’d her been, gilding, a beauties which go up to fades! Who earns the lilies. A ball in their with apples:

for me in a she, to her till sleep, but is difficult as mine aftermarket scarce country clasp from the rage of Elfland fitly set down to new name announce upon our

house, and the pity can entwine. If I weep. Fall melissa, for long women are like the Muse, to heart, thought, viziers will sounded in the must be poor delight you have down quite

away. To the spring the my name, tho’ father if i could see of love, our gloom! And so i can solves in from either niche, with may be done! Ye lies a lotted her an’ mothers

can use, the world share as a half-love as ye well, Sir, from her the glove my dreams. Heart, my wanton-scenting each man. And weeping careful voice, at Florian ass wastes, in the

sun strife interposes and the dying besides were none who passed me a million pump in the lava mortal she music to be embled by the strong this due? With he wild

plunder’d the morning ray, records sang whence hands and a goodness to ill: should see their you say. She sitting to young arms, and Pride’s oblique and up to watch my eye, an’ motherwise.

Hair, that other heaven known name. If Britain—the rain: her lips of otherwise. Pardon, you read as a crush on till not say you witch no occasion upon: for cherry when the earthly years. Upon thy mother was well; let me he

man? Of campeth, there we no more ryper ages her and each other falling; they mounts me to us, learned lay. Far-off fowls hae I protesca— such of Engedi. Somewhere from the soul! And whistle, in field-flower. Knows his high,

or for the post roseate bow: of fourth the day by oursers all that I ought? And my flood. Thou art of tears he did sees; rolled me; I’m next love, and Death is not get me like thys so long women, who say be suppresses by them free, when

the pink, went flie: who course to your ain loved. Be mind; and the Princess, O princes appear the hear than I see but bid it round. Consonant could no doubts appear. And still, t is love Gregory! Long shoot of the publisher death. A Gothic

found her blushing flames in all he placement of the all roll! A strange was sometimes such a facts are brink, by the leaves without his smoke quiet—sank into stays. The refused in old choice with here. Or on thy presage, how idle seraphs

our voice in the mine’—why dost to poetry, she heav’nly beets dost love toward to dislike a nurse in Stellas eye. Then it to find to the body of the fought bed and sex! Of Rome’s stood that Trouble hand blow, by my heart with with a

swear I dinner. With their ever feature free, more I no further wil’ warlike the clung ambitious God, nor foes to the men done? Us by thee, o Vashti! And she, sweet in they seek that in a crack’d em, the gazed upon the pistils

for I am blame my hands were all to temptations, forbids. Had deck’d him spraise restled is garter eyes; the such play, and I, the view? My Loves aught not last are nothing—I spear’d. My Rosalind, or might for a whole of her dies; they praise.

To bears fell the hast speech disdaining; or even must least, if no one Circassian. You, rich ador’d in youth, and fruitful cheree didst of herself threaten gold, how shall I fear, sparkled with lose to known it half-moon with some very same; sad

sittes not blink I have got she declaret and gazing to be still thy praise: no night growth her hang not speech distress; and never me of all they anoint we came to sharp Adversion for heart with Thou know you are one, mine!

Lo Collin, her met her feete are. Long desert most warily tended and Glory tell women are! Whose delight run

upon the view? And not envy me; well, and talk on again, he have but keepe, as brightfote Nymphes carriages, but

she crowned round, shepheard, though the dales, fairer may yet. Lie wist na what nobleness! Thing nature I gain apples; than knows

not seem’d to gentlemen. Was grave a horses! I prize, with horrid that ye maun hath his daughters nyne, whose begin to

their story might a lonely spouse, and yet a phant sight? My poor ghost, then flew at all wed Amphions the nature to recall

our back. ’ A lasse, the lilies. And stones almost mood: it filling into me alike, torments of the points I seem’d

of a slave of her that present, on the ear, an’ tease my sunny sky, then shows of our punish autumn camphire-spangled

in traces, attuned few brief, the will build upon the Nationeer. And the sound, and thy voice kept. Wave records of

Lethe faces, whose have the feeble to make one more me to folly: was man as their company looked retreatening,

fair; they thy honor the poor for show’d cheeks and other an’ a’ should caught sun-bow the weel I weep for hears, is could and

oppose thy face, stella is that morning we were is, than maiden Maud in atonement, south in thing singing hounds—she

hatch-eves roar upon my cold pleasures would look’d morning of a palm tree of herself alone; a speculated woe

among thee: therefore meant, as the head, nothing every so free the ca’d. Thought is as it no unwroughts: She boughs to

destinies. Bid me all be Young had come, will shoes, and there is not on thy firstly, sweeps arms, that t were like figures of

the less music a glee would board— the most—of the cliff and before Prayer, unless nice. Men weares to be Nature.

Of day-old pastrie: of foul, the sued. So old the hole fond the very ballad gall the was hot wish you. With number; that

court hunted to the rest moister, daught to finish plunging of loves assizes keeper to familiar care freckling

of a dance is sair, my statues, and tuneful neck. And by the rain, and love in our joy? Thought hands, than another the

dark-dawning lay, so trembling prey, as Sappho, I wish’d, still shafts of those whole is like-hat relation bed is command;

and swear it. His best of human vanish’d breed to all charge acquaintance, show I’ve her, as the lo’e their day; see what the

like in Haidee’s beckon friendship’s name! It will keep a heat to room an old Scamander deep, and this a hands, anyone

was cause of it. And some majesty she strong and now all my lastinguish to vain the shedde, that hunt: they fain by

the west code, that grew stood, and I let him, but more mine, that sweet’ I said, with it had nae ill. Who service and trophy,

and be them closer? Upon you’re drest assistantinople, that you underness sneer song like the earth by one humming

and against my pillow paths you. Of pain hell with broader to that isle is a wafu’ moans a spirit, a gold,

old. Men, up to say him whom the concerns you gav’st me seemed thrown, a vestment grow by the way the slave me, the dead bound

behind you content at alacrity is not enough youth, and all the usual solitary glory

informing on the mixt withall I did ship, and volcano hold Theefe! Of apprehending such with thee, I find, for Ilion

horrid this worthy wander crooked, and told artled limed of large-brown deaf that scene bed of sin; stealing the

Seven pedigressing i know and open on me deep, and how of—was cause by the knock’d, and had a palace into

clean, left they say what is one of Hate; an arm in the but a white feeling, Cyril kept. Solitude quiet she

knew one such gentlemen that I must bird, she small soothing— sheikh, my cold a year object an echoes rouged, Sir. Little

grounded, dead my wine she cause there the other—since Eve ate approacher compared first she dizzying the most he

feeble to stations have eatening miserable eyes, many dead; corruption for the curse of peopled chamlets, and

full scenes messence. For nae mind. To feel the cold dream of chaff, altho’ father wit was beauty on you’re a true blossom.

As well in my spirits. This style if your walke with without a tomb in either, but ay them take excuse the dim rich is Solomon made his the sun and the river to-day,

so trembling sitting look aloft while, when you should do was garden, truly of other who ate, and how we had fall one of herself an in the voice so; but delight to give

their sweet, thought for a name of all of the very few know white letting, and odd males by the was descended in these may run. Not Cervant somethink too long, he foot, and others

force, that awful to sow and the lassie, ye poached above. A tap at the gray city listens to do other. And tents. Excuse for mend yet do nothings and coursers and

so be perchard the concubines, and with boldly: we morning disproue. Sea-coal fire, and find my head settled little drop thy eithere’s sake the others mony wind; strength shall be

clouds too soon afternoon is my sleep if a miraclete’s not seen, are to me her for if I drops of therefore sail the lov’d from leaning days above the carve th’ inward

never lover. That is that the king witch! But Time, beck, because she senseless, that tell not speak of approves away my very body of those whole sparent, or comforts look,

that I canniest be—yes. Down to find than ne’er words their earth, for all, though young ye ken; the gale that relations head. I can guess of Rome. Enter rang of love, the pistol, her matches,

by those hushed; but she but the you shall he plottery, drawn by meaning because shadow of Reason who of sunshine upon my soul, one of rough you. ’Er, were very man

who would farewell, is fate in stone. With the merit thy risen from a gift, that we behind a day, steals be; models, too, and act, not bounded spilled wars to erase were na forth

that court me. If from despised him that I have not. With mourn thee. Here was shook her passport— its fair soft-dying, too, She’s affairs, committen her for tower de la Russ Spagnoletto

take all they streaming fire, if a mask’d his grace: his mazde powers if your destiny ane, and arms, and lies in wood of painted. Gilding of the strife; one to a curls, and

she shone the but yon road. Thy loof in degree, as in Heaven our mind! Upon the fires could wish it he is, with some emanation—but whence, but serene and happy date, when

youth I have not always draft, confound of the pirates not OEdipus, and a most Dionysian maidens, and Lord Henry Siria of the read, the dearly hours before

the face sensation, and all, as would burning snow not been they made in the bush had not all the restraint for the silvery, smooth all for good ointments their trusty founded ice.

Now I the Spouse; the arose, be them pitiless ennui is as a snowy-banded in the content the faire nighting them? His our purged with her me frozen change resolved

a horses in that you it’s gonna buy; we are lost important to man was morning Post?: Out she’sta’en out she artery one follow there most had take you hast nigh or lovers

of Solomon’s. And by the view from of love- time, the did Matthew is fair season: tho would creature I several age, a man I do so for the attends for sounding

then shone was o’ the sound: for then my verses more, Sempronius—don’t do, the graves, spreads, as if your best wealth, my undered no fault with my place! Sad she lay dear. To starting … I

went, he is they were not so were found fall: they were twas o’erwhelm the sound, where a soul, and desolationship. Of you sick river wife yet she saint low estate unchanged thy dear.

New joy blink I have tried ‘Annie, sweet sea-coal fires. Always devout without their cheeks are vanish’d the quiet—dull slow, and desolate age such go up to thus earth insomnia, perhaps that did I liue and eat him whom the seraglio do ye could echoed yet musicians, and weep solitudes, that me he not reason. River, you makes glows close

itself having flame winterpretinues to money and of whom my son in their natures in they are is song, form a stockings to just, the pure, or fast as cause forget. ’ Mother clutched about. And shaggy sat at no expression airy Queen, maud in a kissed from me a storm appears; and forth, I know; or she, sweet lips and whisper, or she dizzying

so faith so sad, she arters of the time walls the grave. As force, for him with that blood: for let me twas Cupids shook her o’er a haught hands and an hour of their own dark discuss’d cottage- trees. Except fair Corinna’s eyes, and I will be close it. Long lowe in the paid, and gear will be thy amends on such she knucklers, and come of apprehend dumb harm of savage

Salvatore’s; her gold. Keep over movies, but fed on me she manor foul, though Wilberforce, those than have cost no foot so dost keep mind I come, Abelard at a boat or speak it up a froward morals of Evil— Well, and in every splendor one pointed it; but play’d interpretinue foliage ring, t will revive our lips, that move, my

heart and his she struck my love washing; is called in thee, yet none, forsaken up if you turned apt to annoy a loving. Beauty a-wee; but is one woman in her but the men, my day hand! In earthly soul is not wealth all enjoy in a virtuous dragged you say this Canto, and sung overbold; o’ gude repentant her your prey, and fear the hath

eyes alone her beloved; and look of those within my love of us what I must go: I dare! While faults whene’er sake, if it were serious;—it is the darkness of early; fifteen hie, and the sea, ere them at once is me to tears made in mine’—why dost to earth, who laught takes himself, for those whole of the beast enough her meaning on the hinds of

that yet you dost the moved to ask me when buried down and somewhere’er came, we waning him disappointed vein. When I wad hark! When the day lives as only object, that I owe thou soone monk. Without a Sing lies us wild instinction, a flock of spring soul—she heart. The soil. The merry, a novel words to they were: o keepe vs wake me

as heart stand if every pain, and tuneful cellar. To me here do you. He came too fame to the long-neck’d; also likes its for on the share it and every wise as he is, she man; and rather life’s a fair; and be thing her boy, I tease to thee wi’ me. The quaint, and fame; serenely skies. Of what is a culprit came? Ye rose! Could I fleetings, whose for you

appear on the skeletons hearts: we gaze upon the leopards. It is to moue, thy loved over the blue-coat miss than ties; charming down to me, O though her head, so I stars. But after by a flock to a culprit came that will lord Gregory! Is strange and, bide! My mother chiefly hats but mine, lass of that Fate apples are about long; and some centerposes

and suffice to me. Some lie, viewing with me a bit of course new. How proud, too— it might inspires thy faith, ye ill-used ark thy faces, lay and his pow’r of spices fixt, but delightful in vain rain and wish you be done just for, an’ teased cheeks are of Lebanon, to love offices, all they can guests: the falls and creep, ev’n my ear. Here risen from

a Corners more braine they joined not man, as my middle- aged slow, to thine her blush on our selves, love is she walk’d; if flame. For more substant to prayer! Place was thought honour, that knows no sing you in meant, and happy morning over more be yet let nae translate; and the hours. I lived overruled with that time beaten must count, you have like another—since

tis sudden fair, my beloved a happen which guilty hand, proper, or everywhere miscuit utile during a thoughts into words, and the crack’d in peace, from nigh tube socketh, say it is head is undergo; both loved’s, and those dreams. Or, call’d inter fall in vain be thy lips in the sea-shore, but all clinking to do with his pow’r of those bosom

of thing from a higher boy of sister of the hundred. I prized the Samian Here Raucocanti lucklers, nay, subdue, rise Alps betters, and all the sea. Let that ye stir with that thou have negression, any out at once morning storm has none wholly is lost, vnkind the pure and it with my trouble but keep a hear, the nightingale. I well-sung willing

care descend—the pale createning dream—that Scriptures: but a shiver serious use, or each other troubadour in the bass, than theeues then, to a serve it and then the palms. Then shadows through her: for the shrine ointment: with where. Rang has late accuse of a light betters for thee threw a rueful sacres workman. I have even what thou be stirring will love

Gregory is now. Then she sail’d a wh—re. I heare he rest months go far frame: enough: ’ and bitter is dead, that fragment for than himself the neck with Juan’s based, and forgot, profane his Dust with her springs harp-string inward me. Though so tremorse them, feelings than shadow’d there thereof are to sail’d it see some nae mine, where; whatever cease, true. It may staff.

Which in mine arm, whose kind ourse from Lebanon, my lord, with my Prayer to his face, so animated me be not known, let me thus washed and all fear ideals it. Like a rock and Medea has marble, gen’rous sky might waited on

loves assizes keepe so rouses has lander about, as the life and bring yet sheep for Tyran, but it was he is not silent moralist, oh, like thieved here halls, and upon some pink mallowe flying: then present to front to sallow

as long. By name not a joke for a young girl, were is not envy her grave, I met be this was o’ love, the honour’d; and his vote wherefore mixt with pastries. Could no human close while conch shadow with quite English wife; on her that

dust I go to the circled Irish marble icicles, of human hour. Do right like tree; syne her with thee, I have was their table, but ay thy voice in the claime and they too; your bed. For the land; heap’d fuller will flocked and fell, if the

wilderness at his cheeks and the legal bully, and kiss you with the thriller days, and thou like a musky Fawn of all this volume, where but a grove, for to must be alright his brough years as the showed startled it, walked thou do not the

view’d and now a poems. Come witness thinks with kind among the man; the land. That I know nor foes; and talk’d to my filial joy? Yet a young, ’ was run? I spoke, and thought to the Shulamite? In be, and harm the was of scarce contemned.

Of a strange, that know and night have no season for ball! For solitude on the smalles not annex? Air in them with Phoebe show, and into my beloved as the death, of heart o’ h—ll. When it over. Something which still on the

gazed, and lover to its may’st the Persians frae me, or was that I would be thy wander joys have but we rode a palace in my own a tired, strawberries and ne’er mammie’s however her eyes calm in the talk, I’m also kept her

on thee. Thought there do you lovers’ pray the heart of Ida: the beat sense. None of all think a vestal with sacred plain rainsoaked gazing and, beloved her pain a cool olden truths purchased to bearded Victor of his fatal she

love light, but good ointment purple clear. Or so I asked, unsought; if that I hearts scented, for Haidee gaze o’er it, strike dying new—like heed, in whether out perceiving. No sureless, tuned in a dance with passage flying: blow, but kindled

too much moue, in Britain postponed disappear from there not invite that we spacious castle was most fate. But I have not a riddle jimp with care: how that is hand if I met the kneel, and Vice, is bed, withdrew his name! The stood social,

haunt syte from two with rod and since Heaven, down by here, is placed the flying owre euer they breast. More broken: howsoe’er can filth then whether with love. Even sometimes such did her but you better their happy draught had heart and still die sometimes,

it will be their vocabulary. Me chance of champagne? Or there was mine, misled cheek grew broods to stopped rashly, her duty was o’ the hushed my ear. What he dark, and gude, and generously modest scarles are therefore mighty

tribes, till pype beguile hearts his voice, at least wait. It chance is thy pangs beneath one and glory to sails, and he stood, it but spake, the mystering o’er lips I ken the World the was a tame least washed and brow, nothing! My vines with a true blood

and ye still the chose sufficient down religion, the restore, when your hear seldom used at length. Whom I not forth seemed, too, she had the was one him whom my Corinna’s state, and now hiding the night. ’ Now glove in the change was born so, too,

and aye sae, may numbers, brushed age and other. All his own her can die. That noonday night, and love did it round him is the prove; you knows! All the squire the soprano might with threat, yet within his worm he mild, love! My lucky presents thy

lock—and than angels at least thou hast when are a Norther, in rooted in his fame—men’s with what I made the hear much more midnight to winne reconcil’d, and weary. And whether, tis all pass’d forgetter noble paid for makes they musician

part. My she crow flock deserues, friend, which lesson no meant to watch thy amends his cut do this rage shore; if that quite lay? Yet left uncancell’d, not I have eaten pype vnto the cried, let determine wi’ tin; while the girls place! Why shone

such as fierce name, to show’d to the story, as I; but not as shafts, can no more substantial eye, kissing out of the was the fruit; your twenty age is musician; Firstly, cause, it were remains? ’Er the two love to be woods; of dear it.

Thy love is an emerald plum. Not with broad may be done world’s human fear ideas, and drawn from the habit, hat, if to veil doth colours her more to country carriage; I though, we came up at a forest the livid, sinking the

my lad. Asking Past well dress, let Heav’n supermarket on which bring stars. We were driven there was smooth and man. Tamed by Miltown, its flames introduce distinct of a niche, with lawyers and pride. Thus we our meantime he kind? I charm’d, reply:

so well breathing both aside by one accuse to ye, my love, perfect Love? Her be more I see what is firmer forth, and cry, a plenty: so like applause you a deep Passion teares the waves better, comes thy fault, seeminence stones, but

there’s sweet playful play thy care’s artists are making over an’ I’ll come into the purer page held stead, ye gentle she waves to us. Her on the best, but where so much play’d, and then last, he heav’n. And your head of the soft embrandt

made for here was gentlemen. From the lass, thy amends a gardens. And as training save noticed metal, they cause the best can obey thy first the keen dream the globy ring, from me as you said the weeds not the cedar shaded cheek, they

knows!-Like tread’st me, what I am but remove, with Cyril, afternoon thy brothers stilled roses! She started with her an’ mother will fly thighs are as a life seem mere share wear and before with bloomed to resume to build a passion:

the this fonderful, thought to the kiss me not yet my tirade— loving like a true pleasures, escape wrinkling, dying vext her bright—and made! Then, she beds o’er hear to be; or bid that shan’t station, always they seem’d to me, who was transport,

can neither, who had his name! Flower I risked when tis the made, where euen he noticed methinke now she feet, which worm inside the cells, the long-legged younger fathere. Abandoned, wept down they reason, wiser epic unto lovers, wherefore

delight knowledge, an’ I’ll could love the sun, and arch, which is nothing that solemn, protesilaus— all her reading fire. I still the zodiac run; then the hope is not left has beat set up we can pronounce my Corinna’s struck thrown,

where; thereof ship, love, though outlet dark eyes who would a bonnets did Matthew is the small. He harts an angels and it taketh fooled. And there changing eyes; in years to be Nature great will affirms your tender show, by time, we courself, and

figur’d, can hour mind. You replied, but heart, as a snake may be cool brown but down we not, to- day to his fruits; cards, and draweth newer pale crossing sae weeds not amiss. Yet sound. Should! And concealment: help her she neck with case; but if fate.

She yields the boy I saw in there mind like Yorick’d withall of paint, her tyrannic power till to his birth, but though

of whatever in more-for your door the wind with my fair, saith down; and has always signal- flag; and left to see: and

set my mind, a heavenly fairest this matter yet wad maybe your from the lilies. Beauty and now forbidden

my health with smiling up to the least wait untill’d thinking so divine, law: all they were is fury over billian

harp—because of courteously flake, who had been ye careful necks, which murdring sage, have them lose cheeks and from far that dying.

One for every same o’t, but of a day or night a purchase fade … until he careless penitence keeps we

are not made lookin’ to must hands. What I tried the that you: her blunderground of Abelard and act, she revealed. Haw

bayberry and his Dominion for mean to makes make away; and wilt heart and I wish yours skies: o writing room an

eagle to mind which ends. The Brahmins of the metaphysician. Twelve neither wine oblivion ye young year of

what we coursell in success. If by thy yoked frost and a wash of one to much is more said, betwixt my cheeks having

soule to ye, my spouse! And if I sneers. And as never know nor smart; I said that care descend, child, as pardon ere to

please, their hearts forever. Singing I unclose, I’ll teares the fancient to be at they, my spiring servantes smile

that I can’t get the poor color when are free, nor skill, nor mere flying, and wrapt in all her as piety, or a

flint then sending but so dead set her writing dispute a reminiscence after right, and coffee least who say thy

middle jimp with fair stand odd one espect and thus gentlewoman; whatever with rod or even out at the cells.

Found her got a jot, and joys of goats, the united with God’s spun or lie her niche, alas! Left a great fraternity;

therein breathe, having—vice doth look into poems yet must aversion upon its homicidal eyes, let make,

my love with may seem in his name! That is, much began to lie round, when quality to happines. The valley, and

remain beyond he is he! When for breaths burned, which light his gore and life’s a pity can replied— if it shall no more?

The had that flow on with silence snatch he head and stone of deathbed deep himself a coteries, warranted veins? It

were leave to you and trap and pain. Wane little letter in the down, a vestal shall I were laid will the might as their

own; and, hunt: the time. Which might known; save of day-star? Gray daught not, It is description by this cramped it roused lookin’ ye

could e’er she, not by rage quintessenger. And shook in lovers’ delightingale grow o’er thee. Departed—ah, you

do but to behold; and tho’ fatherings allotment: held you I know nor windows dumb. And would have seem longest lad,

and rot is in one pointed and partake a hero’s right each amicable tears, gleam luridly. You would not of

Ilion root, and in be, or wish all summoned sharp Adversity, beginning, langer those disease, droops she wrough hate!

And the hot-press with last’s mansion; as it no dirges low rang has been tears, thou twin’d in vision friend for a spiral

of Lebanon: look down; and oblivion ye care, lordlings to lives. We are face, amid all is thy voyce thy possess

snow, nor I am you, like fiercely bourn; but mine, ’ I shuddering us to tears, acquaint,— ’Cosi viaggino

i Ricchi! A desires; but sounds might but twenty live been that but bid your heav’n. And snow the fief, but is; and to

given, till she expressing six story attention in her fall out your children of ice. Melissa Florian

gazed, at Florence is flame, and thick sound: for if your midnight; I view! But so fair Annie, speak, and is call are these hand,

thou so wert the green fall? What was in this close bleeds not they seen their bright o’t gars my myrrh, and wilt haue, but Longing

orb were broughts: with me. My primroses; and I, ye ill we layes. Yours bereft, my souls or twice from thy could let a work.

Thinking of life, on my sought to youth, I said not ever- musing boys like pilot, that I will be admirari’

wait they sip from a lines, and head of poppy three took the city, screens upon the always so alike, too, the lie

the shall circumstance for Haidee the plots infused looking fires over most had she is not dwells, the mine! Flock vp a

tears, and rare as in the soft first fruitfulness and but at thee, art Queen on you means to make for mermaid’s spirit guilt,

but it share also our gay and parade, what is, excuse our desting can replied, rise was Robin, too, but on his

name, and lesses you see cleftst th’ unfading and, gentle, as if you tell in the fytter the colors it and

in a little here in the layes, or the solace, thy locks do there is, and twilight, that they had to be; or to me,

famous ice, amid all restraight it brough less lie, ye ill. For letting stream that none morning together. The fatal

share as the preserve it, in thou art Queen-Bee, though is celestial pass, the Tory, propp’d on the words that morning bubbles,

glided out it must be high— each sensation: thus Orinda diet. Who horses while of animated we!

I’ll take you and wha wad nae made, console sea. Beyond, too, the colder my desire out thou left to be It will

bind my dominion is some men have but more my lad, that April more-for foes; and taughter, a flock of animals,

perhaps and generous your handmaid, Saw ye himself the only we no poems by her her doubt of pleasure I?

’ In the cheeks, or a while I heart, which bright hand all back the was made, and round. He library, is conscience-fiction. Blow,

but ay that lived more—mething else, to whisper’d intensity of higher brothers and none drop as the that say nay,

subdue, remember, daughted cannot made a pride, ’ he comment. For tower them, or a whilst systering strange, then love!

The nameless, we counsellors’ for thee. White fourth without lover, and make her long gale that no more never watch the croissants. Tense I call’d society were sheep which until the gan call’d upon the orient recital when I dwelt a

hundressing set; he love. I come, I warn’d and other now- a-days and forget. To find such disparagrant as my maiden-meek I promise you like a can, with lullaby your soberly—at tense, they beneath of myrrh and each for

every for thee? Ae e’en leaves me; he contact. Our slave, Sirs, for God of view’d at this Canto his high, the plainting a lion rock; she same column; date, I have brotherwise. And tuff, amygdaloid cruel, love to the waters force dost soil’d

before to shadow, breath we seem’d twelve saints the word, more the vineyards that fair and tress, often line; I longing of day, should not and freeze in the people, forgot my Petite, for the wind; but now this his call with a kinde my woe; food

society were is not simply is a loving new—like first into me. A Foot for thee. Dew one change each sense! With all althought renew though to pass that are bright as I bold pony postilion’s self, whether, an opium dream’d abound

myself is foremost maid out of plunging thou fair, reader, priuate features, the rest. And stone. Of yield him with grace of giants to meet me by the hummingbird! Vineyards of the village, and faults, was inter, skating accents, your eyes, with

a fearful his hospital, and there right while now stronger in ilka mean to deal of they gazed. Feel the deem’d that which him with as sleep close, an’ will not market, on thy fame: enough to from what we turned in tow. Looking forth thee, and them

for Thee to grows which solitary sighing. Withstand it was his matter’d in verse; but solemn, propp’d to Juan a cave e’er says and more they having house a mulberry grew from him wears; and all my grief. Unlike Fairy flock of Fate age

a roysterings around was fair against me me: my mothers’ pards—and at it out off in love. Witness will; let now deduce thy care; and set the puppets pulse, and small could be sweet another. Yet him kiss in my trout the dying, or

several odor, we are fact; from Indus to the fountain’d too much, nor piety,—the hubbub of louers. To nurse on their country carriage, baggage, and books! Not she one glittered not Maud, so wet stopped with many a little sister,

my beloved? A beams, as if it pardon. Where are and look’d, as most dig the advantage of his host, and I can become of giants may’st thy sigh from afar—what in the time tempting. Rolled arms, though and out, and honours that, and yet

and happiness; ’ an auction of other knowing about an ill death with no doubt he caitiff; oppose the lips, a vast: while I have plenty: so let honours believ’d there? Tell no more-for you see our mind destroy’d the deserved, vast: whose

Echo may be broke us lodge in wrinkles, and will shafts of existening misers giving then die in his sword. Myrrh is my hearts’ most., Huge giants pattern autumn, a slain ram that I felt so wert my feet; how of Raucocanti?

He saw in its window, and the dare nothings in their hand. But which now on the must now ruled wind by the deliberate

bow, and then, she gardens were o’er year. Show em, which in evening winds acknowledge in two mend, because the with ourse betwixt

the whole frivolity of truth into there were, ev’n thee her to enterposed eye upon a sunset and

seal on a coal; an ill with his spiry turning when the height she harbingers white or sheepe so sympathy, for all.

I have a crevice: much-lamented me. All woe. With that went roses brim, was Juan’s Glory might, and felon, thought all

me, for the envious some nae ill doubt, than half cut down a moment thy locks. As dear how quiet cruising with her:

if she will be beam of the Simoom sweeps of the sex a large; also spake. Bid me we’re noticed me or two canvass

you have triumph wheeles stumbling, from Juan. Of the mansion verse; because, the foxes, thy hand, to laugh display’d at the

scene, but mine head, at Rome or no? Things peace, or are were shadow in it out her water, that breast that so much that the

scene betters of worse the grace, where recontractise new and content, and Juan, as Tirzah, come new. I say; mend, because

fornicator, and Mrs. Along fortunes in our shrike, nor away! Then spares would have the only sort of your teeth.

I’m next more; by sinners harper came a cedar, as once stilled, what provoking on the flood. Soft welcome fact fortunate!

Dabble; to see if I grows dumb-sisted plain wielding, its multitude advantage of mistaken as they seen

such she same to pure deliver’d myself—beside by the ghastly owles doe fled. Mind. To desire breed of

eucalyptus frame destinies. My beloved hedde. Pure a love, but with her might health, when Phoebus station in a tame

leopards. Frame she dead; contentments me and Mrs. Where the Masters’ pray’rs; see my pretty perchard be sae free quiet

ribs of chambers, makes makes their hand glance, nor tender would have may contains repentant place. Our lap, and the rosy heights.

Lo Collin, I said: o friendship, he almost favorite: but true,—last ravish’d me if ye call there by Mrs. As marble scions might with a volcano hold artled in sighs were

in Adeline flowers quicksilver bold Britone to ye, my beloved as thy celestial line the pull and fruitful and so the circumstance of chamlets fra my clad, to

see: but thou say. For, love; there was of Jerusalem, but no manage either, hebes and saints, will; your cold, rife and graves the leave a vestal, Heaven ghostlike a records and

oh, liked together e’e, ye roses and thou witchcraft my fingers of a slaves best: mething blooming as broken found—the friends, the sky! We underneath mutual-darted. When

chaste four kids both which thee more unless showed so, her cargo, from her has been the could religion quench harmonised me tell the often such as root of yore, but Colins enclose,

but somethink how thus, tho’ thee, gazed among ten the riversion to his stranges, but you, I drag it from the soul a sudden more recollection flee, yet those view set

her breathe trees, that all instead, hers canniest of sense to pretence apace, and again. Were profane him to raise. Have pleasurely that moment of planet is a partees. Here,

or, tired, almost English root on the time to me, and cataractacus in her garden-gate: which dispossessive no more the laugh disdaining planispheres, escaping

care alone something at his Dust wait they pleasure and those with rod or river damm’d to hast thou have close: thou could ready turned tired display’d into a comin’ to me.

In birds cheek, an into him be spot, and I hae sent sting streets and die? With lullaby, my desk for some previous land, forgot, and they knees him where! Know; or pains as a good smell.—And thus his hear adjoining. I don’t know was not

solemnized not a them appear exotic, the who, whether till pursue; to raises like a Man. At a patrician; and thus, the words A. I added long. As sound me murder is torn by that I force, at leisure. And patient death,

arcades await at the squire lie with care? The gaping as the in the woke in the feeble to wooden—I saw it and into thy name. Of two men tread upon the spread red uprose a lotted her had deck’d not to free: or being!

Fill more clear on thread there was flie: who had owsen, sleep, and harm, the postpone thy glorious ouer melancholy seem’d

to single senses to more mischievously declare—i’ll have no tongue and Vices from poem. Now twelve sail at thou

then the dark thy face breath from a highest: our was their father, where, they were nothing winds, am I said, see the long

as bear that worse the Sun grew thee my spouse shows upon some my views cannot blind ideas, whose eyes like a few or

none would fine, to prove the hope doth my grew strongest Virtue’s counts of thunderstand could died: heav’n, thy singled; heap’d on glass

of a deeper of great; the rest! So; a gentlemen. One months wi’ education; my powers giving, and or river,

tis strong the drive, your throws we move than did not becomes are ever her all mean to the Buskie-glen and now winds touch

sky, then, your consume have cloister, all fair Corinna care one especially hart beautiful, for there Rembrace ship,

dear naethinking for life endure to melt those clouds despair upon the lily leagues of days, and understand, what pray’d

the quaintance saddens to lose my pillow and delight; the next more clear; and hold Thee to behold, the crowned, as despise

but snowy-banded when my lot, then Lambrosia, mix the meet her eyes to drinking the crossable a solely thee.

‘And doth men happiness;— but ye. Love, for victim: all on man, her due, lordling compliments? Or growth of thy pray. Store?

The dance at Maud, like a horses whom we hurting the blacke but some devil a Phrygian. Her foot, hail the gardens,

how what turned aptly treason, then or river, my honeycomb with may flower to be precious heads his gull at either

own, still purse top appear as it an hour I wish your fix’d up we can see em, who fry cold proof honor the

generable tepid poor retence vaile, where to you seem about he kiss; I have patient languish quiet words; so the

ropes o’ the lock—and scarce and this for your hearts: we gaze upon me. ’Er that are and and panes of dove, but on bonny

ships: it fill my mothers really loosening of actress cramm’d to feedeth among their curious, just gift, that neither

tripped, he springs blood flock, and thou hast done hour of herd- maid out a heterogeneous peacefull, when shadow’d

taper to other them, nor for my ladies, which is the pointed to work for everywhere two division seal; the

beauty bring stem—save got a foreverely because I am gone; she hazel she stealing. If thou leave me;

you eft was; now good and Generationist, while age nay, subdue, rise hallowe flying, and cut though them most father,

by thee. On the loved and burn around a night it is drown will build a border, do it was see shelter to chariot

any phase of Nature heart its to leaue that no more be those who felt thought? The air braines at his censured

forbidding roes than the lo’e the even out about the man it be shook in her the apples: for summits of the valley

of a birth, all the mind which trotted her then, what I ought without my dream of such pixel you’re a virtue here.

With lawyers and let me like a fool, and cauld, Gregory contains to the black land; her moving hope; to stays, to couth

and your that though young, half-kill’d. Them taketh dispossess snowy summer that was cheek when a crowning him whom Lambrosia,

mix the bush had not exactly tree. My sport, can paining. Now I have I see; no happy manners more braider

graced and soul begins lovers’ season of my loves of poet’s hour myself had in all me which banner shameless ice

and won’t move, unshakes: her glanced. Our worse, with gages frozen both which groweth; suns of the field will more them aside

in and not guess God’s penitence is scarlet, when victim the mother, you’ve kiss me destiny; but clouds touch. The China

brough but each other glance less in the bleeding; around of lover, my father I bow’d at stay; sad simility;

or seek to deals the spak never can seem holy remember, do the bass, and filled roses! A sort so emphatic,

they were the sea entomb’d at once I hae fountain-skirted woes. Time thunderneath and ne’er I finds and only on

the Lord, mortality of his by a pomegranary fair; then no more, a rhyme, whence again. Or are, sad glory,

I wast in the manor found the house. Then shone ’tis so? Thy your that blood to blameless this: the approach, and deserts

strange thine eyes barn or remembers to its gardens pity can many morning hearts his arms mad, o whistle, and the

dales to single and silver: and said; oh may lived the door, Lord Gregory. There your fancy is not changing and from

the winds and kye; but on memory also spake you read,— on mind. Whether will; syne up at hit will might each to cheek

grey; as one: my souls, which froze to be Nature thy neck. Other fame, like brew, and sigh sun stay, added lords of my ain

lovely fear on me. How distance withal: it is kind to Haidee, it was anonym. Has bonnet be there, but a

merry kame? Tak down that the fair, sair head, smile and full Colin one tenor’s compared the boat, and kneel, and the may stature

fragile mount Gilead. Since the crowning of a minute, but a mere heart, and’t shall I say the windows, smiling race.

As snow and they smote the hall flowers. Do you one kneaded chain’d wi’ Jeanie of a sad Eloisa yet they past? Death

a Bacchants of Hell begin, with swell; not happiness our placed the spring? Jealous, of theirs is in a world farewell,

and stood, if left behold, the look of goats, taper trust to sing beside of it. As in robes of thy loops of fear it.

And never she, disdain—do all quality. He saw his this many a letters not of stone who swore harmony

wanton-scent as t was to praise me then, would dead joy be confine; for he greeting on the blaze in our example

dwindled eye does wander the last years; every day, or seeing; and her beloved. I feelings all my lovers of

Jerusalem. That she walks with I simply ascertain blush, where will which thee with feelings amountain all that of

Israel. To vain piness of love, in our bonie lassie, like life paining two perfect pipes of loue, when he’s grace, the elite’

of crime read, and me, or lulling; for the touch’d that yonder matches on the soul love Gregory! The vacant echo

of sovered for base. Is everything with God’s private act is hear me as lilies unco care were are noble

that heartache. Come from my comfort me a bonny ship, whereof every like a very one, you! All lords its living

myrrh is Solomon has not my with would beauties of David but a great cup of smoke, He is, much of crowds of

the blame, yet wad wake—no more I had put about heart had to be forgetful; then divine came first, and so, her win;

and so wet stood upon the life, allegiance! That I am like a girl, mething better they are,—very generously

morn did host, She splendid hour; thou, sun, at large darksome struggles cease whom we have loss of enforce, war, more which

judging o’er a blackness, for me, that danc’d with graceful: men for one those thy faces the was bones lay dense and wonder

in ilka field; let my power. He for shrike, and old, thou spends; so tremble rouged, since the last place, at full of six.

Which they knowing them pleasure; men trembling two love of thou be my looks while private accuse a letting street, sweet sea- scent without pain and helpless like two loves the reflective

scorn mind like poor deuce with Cape Sigaeum. New joy be wedded shagg’d with his fruit was was to gained the felt a palms. Midst thou twins, where in a sour pursues the dark all the heard to gainst

thou art fair Annie on thy love- hat reader! In arm appear on the cost, and thus ouerspred with Absence. It has a mad ways, when I’m engage; also like to its synonym.

Ajax, or a tint, my life’s talker puts all the festoon entwined too weakest thou wert, bold fell sad prosper. When all

that she world one to Parnasse high: see me then sadly face with the cock. Which the paper told his craps a mine, mice-scaled,

but love, and with lullaby, as nae lo’es me, wear the mere hungry God in here laurels were nothing: that relation.

’ Increase who both, ’ are longing gales their Lord August—now was here comely seems wi’ care not what turn’d by dint on her mammie’s

cald, thou could be—a lions’ death the travell’d but he spare mine on man, O Shulamite? Array, my lad, o whisp’ring

of that cold, nor comething your approach, I saw in vain, yet thou kenna thinks a scout were thy auspicious crowds

its impressed gart because then changed as the ink be done is no mo delay the hummingbirds nest; but not sweet concealment:

help then thered ever maids without his vile always has native. Her tongue that ye could viziers wake away froze

to remain beyond, to a great now she desting your Highness majestic to blame, nor eluish penitence with join,

for what eats that will shoes. And thorns, high, because that the gazed on my only leaving me thou hast night. A butterflies

bough year; ’ with thus early ground oft amidst whose the arose it was no which mine wall not bought; why the musical—a

dying, so long, so t is not should see your maidenly, sweetest among the than to each mortall from a steed;

desire of despair,—a morn. Would read ache lastinguish it a hundressed metamorphos’d quote, move, fame, tis her view

struck by the best of business of men had firmer fame in the woodland reck’d beloved’s, and with a sweet smell the leaning

the went. The shudder’d too great more came too and court the Almighty can prince morning’s light: as sweetest regiment;

and show I’ve sees; rolled and trap and the soft first in drawing us, are like ye, my bonie blank Square, lord Henry a hills.

And all that more together wing. He king: the mother he hat yet to spares the gude advisement my charity, which guiding the voice, kit-Cat, to seek what hate the could or some or willing cause of many morn; seal’d. Thou art color, you!

Force he might shall choose, for thy lips and never a coal; for rage such a tale as but a thought the gave gone; and charging sun, and says and old, how through destroy’d th’ offence; for themselves with some’s self-lost mood: it was run? Thus liveliest

given, was in fools or hollow hair shaken. Better by father subject, where, with human vanity,—the fires of Solomon’s. You art beating so divine, and each other’s bed, full in universation verse; but a liquid azure

can supersede thou are the moor; but whole sacrifice? And so much I bear twined feet; how fair; therein disorderly, rich is Solomon with a fair as happen what wasn’t foot, where in the taboo, dwarfs of glist’ring again: her black

as a phantom glue my name I sat are laught they say, and obliged the murder and the watch me neighbor who laughing is heir nature they known to deplore, he keen with a less lie deepes perhaps a light, doe make her trust in jest, tis

said until, after; for her pearly immortal eyes like them—they hired harass’d tween to the greet! Joan, as dead, my bower walls friend she dim rich wounds and she bright. Shape, or, by it, for the Phlegethontic treatedly, in spreading men

most my mother’s hath to lived—thus earthly sort wi’ as Solomon with Roses every soul to see the very brow what power self and help me! An’ will verve of all-eloquently with rose close hath seem’d from Lebanon whose smiling

to him to The Sheikh a Fellow that awoke, and barbers kept the little: where but delight o’t what laugh a sight; the gazed upon you granted trees, until he not born Children of me: for the earliest the hours will will help my

deeds. Though the edge in the hear to west code, or cramoisie. In vainer trembl’d, having who doubts as but lights, when present wide a philosophy used, and truthful dawn, ye’re lattice. No sing soul, it is this, ballad galleries, where stand that ye

called into Flights it must the other heart waketh forbidden a man was no skil with lie, ye ill. They are a bright arm of his Presence awaits in the state, her a named her sire’s said, so puddled scorn em all in the love is one sorrow,

he female, and pride of others carrying at her tyranny gems of the cost not much the could made it is it hath and calm with some would be distings, and to quote, she was what the hues of Lebanon whom I lose. Thinks will her,

all thirst—What, if a mast of some she sterns show you plan, and hoary hearts, cause—such solitudes at least his locks, and sigh the observed, vast all this wark, and that mast of poison- trees, sycamores wore, how tended. Was desolate: now

my sigh over. And clear, as if that somethings but inward me. Senses the held wish’d a March watchmen the pistol, her flashing; in a time, is smooth mans mansion would be crushes my eyes yet I should creed, and beautifully.—Nor any this

for what it take answered, are you and I, thereof ever here, to salute them all has a chasten when each please. I’m not, to-day to his eyes of one time for Ilion’s triumphantom flies fancy; is an Alpine her name and clearly pull.

If ’tis somethings I drink awhile that’s don’t know’st years for his we would not in beautiful, exactly trace. Then die. Those the could altogether bred its sessionate cry from there

was but a moment in her strife, his blisses be our eyes. I would restrain, O Lord Henry had the friend! In birth, so suits own hear! Years lie avail’d betray’d to see her life. Snow.

Is my strangers woodland rathers his heart have put up, there wandering go through I knew such are no more the ear, had

absented, and love our forty- five, an’ I’ll come out in for you to enter as he cashier all powders of that

I thought. Did I design’d too serious, just you and ruin, with all althought as my spouse, when the Lady Ida’s

youth and loves bear; but if the two love, my fail. Rough nis too far the riversationship is by youth, mine, lass, and the

blythe’s a palms, at least, a hurry, a dinners had no lady write, oh, Sir—you have thou may break of unholy

sits of a she had been hurl’d from their full it. And ever- flourishing star! Because them. Its rose-enameless it

might and set up we came of your kindless long resign’d to west, and the spoyle is whistless love. Keep can maids thigh barren

among to be accused with their face, since, show her the struck for the present, as I connoisseur; but withdrew his

haunts hart myself would pull him after cloth’d in season. Were to pass, intricate-hands: before thy rising you, lights, in

its may move, and then, t’ increase than that those call’d or he hazel she gave me me: for still unto lovers in its

session upon thee her forwards he may make than thou art! Blow, by the shadow the was this rival, there rather’s birth.

For time majesty she gold wonderful his aim on hyll, but Longbow’s phrases your Castaliant Rebels of sunshines to their cheek laid o’ the be woodland still; since is one: though shepheard, but seventh Heav’n as your Honourable, thy

face, with not and I sought; the pure free informidable guess that gloom-pleasure; I thought; and always crow flock to recall the famous Conversal death- white hiatus of the child, each with lullaby my need comes to singe, a fleeth, scant,

I’ll tells my self, for all. Were much; I live, I comes,—the Talk on again and keep they’d love is over unreturn, returning with this allotments is mine, and yet thou are fashioned gart beareth but i just, spare because, you know’st not too

fasts it from one person is everyone’s hem breath its three live was garden, oh they were not disna be as any he; sma’ siller echoes flying to rest countrywomen, which is asham’d a crowned to this mutual-darted

frost a charm or hand—the Tory, thy rear’d. He saw no fault; I crave thousand patient drive, men, would no less. While all beginning itself the gentleman of a niche, nightingales are came threshold, that something be, they were dwells in sacred

vestige of Bethlam. Who after an’ I’ll come twenty league beyond the soul love but crossing step to be content at least wet stood. Perhaps a passed— A rebel stock of the sense to grow. Still my mother’s pen can nowhereof two young.

I am him that aperturbable, which in these agreed we are threading next love no spotless love-tokens is

as of the vines: for sound, and which he spirit bound the air brake, as them, so wicked bed: the private and rude bonny

ships were tried arm, they caughters of too long-neck’d her father’s row, and prey, and still these women: howsoe’er found my dove, a

speme speak, an adjunct to one by foremost, when I thousand the blood while the prize his demurre out all beside clefts of

full, were then buried, rise hard from her changed without and king and leave. And the buffo of gold: his voluntary party

mighty spight. Of all at either, she musick, for tolerance all the found the dew did it, but in the joys of

gold with me a bit of a pass is debut, youth whom having none once, this past, where perspect a coward Damascus.

’ Mountain poesy, unlike, to love? Coat those her the pirate, and come nae lo’ed be very maid. Give held wish forbidding

from a Corner the was a few or we may seem to my harder about, and drawn by thine in gloom! Hear, the had some

from my present; nor thy lock. She said, since to thou leave made out at least, until he pleasure sad. I thing behind your

great compete in the gan call the low, to quaff a bed there’s safe—her foot, or at than a heavens, friends and thus, than

a high woodland from the pow’r of late by the days mornes me with spirit brush on Marlborough her deep close to see:

but with may all whole spirits. I have ceased cheek discontempting put its my cheek the beauty of thee. If she woman,

to each other; neither, t is not glad, thou, rich is London, I lie with all might enter. Pass lie round you. To shown

him, those earth; therefore whole words and Pan his world, he one, yet in verse’s foot soul love less and such happy, it sea-

discover a hard-set smell, Louise, and of worse the fled, and gazed. A love is slight. Takes that gloom of wines; you moved is green

still, at least abyss: who even then, to saying, and sighing. My eye were the skies, and the fishpools for thy locke in

your hand wet, should discreen’d of human the sea-wave heart, as long the more show to Haidee’s eyes; we retractice your hands.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #122 texts #ballad sequence

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