#so I grew up hearing lighters and loving fire

[em1989ts]

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐭 2

part one. main masterlist

word count: 2.6k

summary: after meeting five in the apocalypse, the two of you have a hard time living together. can the two of you control your tempers for one particularly cold winter night to save your lives?

contains: smut so 18+! (reader and five are both 5 years into the apocalypse so they are both eighteen) grinding, dry humping, fingering

author's note: yikes, my first smut. my inbox is open and i'm taking requests!! id love to hear some ideas :) I really wanted to upload this quickly so it's not proofread but eventually i'll edit it . . . but hopefully you guys like this, enjoy!

Living with this stranger definitely changed your life. Whether it was for better or for worse, you had no idea. 

The two of you walked for about an hour to his base, with very little verbal interaction reflecting the very little trust between each other. 

After a little bit of prying on your part, you managed to extract a bit more background information about this guy who you would now be surviving alongside. 

His name was Five Hargreeves. 

He had six siblings. 

They all had super powers. 

They were a team of superheroes formed by their father. 

When he first told you, you chuckled through the bandana over your mouth and nose, but he didn’t display the same humor. 

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Why would I not be?” 

“Well maybe you just went cuckoo here and made up some super stupid backstory!” You replied, pretty certain that he was just nuts. 

Then all of a sudden, he disappeared. 

You jumped at a flash of blue light that suddenly appeared next to you. When you looked back to the area where he was standing, he was gone. 

Looking around frantically, your eyes searched the dusty highway for any signs of him. But there was nothing. 

Was he even there to begin with? Was he just a figment of your overactive imagination? 

Your breathing grew heavy once again as you panicked, then suddenly that blue light and he was right back in his spot next to you, looking amused at your eyes that were wide with shock. 

“Maybe you’re the one who’s cuckoo,” he said with a smug voice. You punched him in the shoulder before the two of you continued walking. 

~~~~ 

His base was interesting, to say the least. 

He had found a building that had only remnants of its walls intact, no roof, and used tarps to makeshift a roof and to cover the enormous gaps in the concrete. 

It didn’t look trustworthy by any means, you’d probably be better off sleeping in cars like you’ve been doing for the past five years. 

He lifted one of the tarps covering a significantly large hole in the wall and crawled in, letting it fall on you as you follow in behind him. You scoffed as you followed his lead. 

He surprisingly had a good stash of resources. Several canned foods, boxes of pasta, and cases of water were stacked in a corner. A makeshift fireplace was in the middle, with a pot leaning next to the circle of rocks. 

There was a small space in the corner. It consisted of what looked like a bundle of tarps and ashy blankets and pillows. You knew whatever happened to the world pretty much converted everything to dust, but he must’ve found those in cars, which somehow withstood some of the fire.

Since you had been sleeping in cars, you collect a couple of sleeping supplies you had found over the years. Thank fuck people decided to road trip before they perished or else you would have frozen to death ages ago. 

You began unpacking your bag and wagon, but you could feel his eyes watching you intently. 

Once you got settled, you didn’t really know what to do to break the unnerving awkward silence, he just sat there staring. You would tell him to take a picture since that would last longer but you're pretty sure there were no surviving cameras in the apocalypse.

The sun had set about twenty minutes ago, leaving the base to get darker as night grew closer. 

He made his way over to the fire pit, and took out a lighter from one of his pockets. When he went to light the wood aflame, the lighter wouldn’t spark. He tried for a while until you couldn’t bear watching the pathetic scene anymore. You took one of the new lighters you had just grabbed today and handed it over to him. He scoffed and snatched it out of your hand, then lit the fire in one try before tossing it on the ground and quickly walking away. 

You were taken aback by his childish actions. Sure, he was alone for years and only had himself to rely on, but now you were here so he shouldn’t be this upset to ask for help with a simple task. 

“You know,” you started with an annoyed tone, “the only reason I’m here is so we can work together.” 

“I don’t need you or your help,” he snapped. 

You cocked your head, not offended but amused. You found his self-reliance ridiculous. 

Sure, it would’ve done him wonders if he truly was the only person on Earth, having no one but himself to rely on. 

But he wasn’t. 

And you sure as hell couldn’t go back to the way things were before. 

If the two of you had decided that you could continue to survive on your own once again, you would drive yourselves mad knowing that there was another human to talk to, that someone else was out there alive and that you weren’t alone. 

You had to stay together to keep yourselves sane. 

“Fine.” 

You had too long of a day to even bother arguing with him. He’d either get used to you or die trying. 

You got up from the dusty ground and tossed yourself on his soft makeshift bed, comfortably taking over. He groaned frustratingly loud, and he tossed his head back and walked outside to get away from the bothersome girl he now had to deal with. 

~~~ 

A few months had passed since Five had encountered the girl at the gas station. That was the last thing he expected when he went out for more supplies that day. 

He definitely never thought he would have to share his hard earned food supply, water supply, and base with her, but that’s exactly what happened. 

She was impossible. She was incredibly sarcastic. She was such a pain. 

And of course, she was a nobody. This meant whenever she got bored of staring into her gross canned beans during those nights by the fire, she would ask about his past. 

He had already told her everything she needed to know, but she kept prying about how he got here, what life was like as a superhero, how his family was. At first, he would ignore her, or at least change the topic to distract her empty mind, but eventually he decided he could tell her little by little. He didn’t trust her, but he knew she wouldn’t try to kill him again. 

Initially, he wasn’t thrilled about being stuck with a girl. He was focused on survival, and his alone. But he quickly realized she was incredibly capable of surviving in this long gone world. Hell, she could’ve shot him dead that first day, yet she didn’t. 

He had been faced with the barrel of a gun several times in his life, yet he’d never felt the way he had when his life rested in the twitch of your finger. 

Your anger did something to him. He blamed it on his teenage hormones, but he couldn’t get enough of when you would pounce at him with a clenched fist. He enjoyed bumping into you purposefully, tripping you, picking you up just to toss you away from him. His constant scowl only hid his raging smirk every time you would get up close, letting him see every detail of your face, how your pupils dilated with intense anger, just to yell about how selfish he was, knowing you were just as guilty. 

If surviving on your own in the end of the world wasn’t hard enough, providing for two was nearly impossible. You had to be extremely cautious about your rations, conserving your intake only to what was deemed necessary. Oftentimes, the two of you would steal from each other when no one was watching, which would piss them off horribly, leading to even more fights. If starvation didn’t kill you, your deadly attitudes would. 

Your tempers had gone through the roof once you started living together. 

Walking away from a fight would call for a knife to be thrown at you behind your back. A snarky comment would result in a hand coming in and punching over your meal. 

While neither of you were going out of your way to deliberately kill the other, you sure wouldn’t mind if it accidentally happened. 

When the nights got colder, and autumn turned to winter, the wind would pick up, making it extremely difficult for the tarps to trap any heat into the base. No matter what the two of you did, the constant flapping drove you insane, and you had already been ticked off when he ignored every single idea you had. His bright idea of just stretching the tarp tight enough over the biggest gap in the whole base led to it ripping right in half, letting the winds fly in with no other tarp big enough to replace it. 

“Great job, you dumb fuck,” you muttered as you turned to the fire, which was too small for its warmth to be felt from the beds. 

Your nose felt like it was about to fall off, your fingers felt like nothing, and your lips were blue. You had put on every layer you could find and it still wasn’t enough. Surely, this was the harshest winter you’d experienced in the apocalypse. 

You had usually been fine sleeping in cars, but every single one within a mile radius had been completely destroyed. The two of you would let out your violent rage on the vehicles rather than each other. 

Five had stared at you from his spot by the hole in the wall, snowflakes freckling his face, holding the remains of the tarp. He did his best to cover as much as he could with the pieces then made his way over to you. He noticed how red your cheeks were, and how pale the rest of you was. You had sat down by the fire and dropped your chin between your knees. 

“We’re not surviving this winter,” you said solemnly. You weren’t necessarily giving up, you would still do what you could, but you had little hope in yourself. Morale was hard to build these days, especially when all you wished was to throw yourself into the fire for even a moment of warmth. 

For Five, giving in to the cold wasn’t an option. Not in the slightest. 

He had an idea, maybe a bold one, but if it meant living to see another spring then he would do it. He walked over to the bed and grabbed as much as he could grab. The tarps, blankets, and pillows stuffed under his arms until he couldn’t fit anymore, and he dropped them right next to you by the fire and started laying them out. 

You lifted your head up slightly and displayed a curious arch in your brow as you watched him remake his bed on the ground. The idea was so obvious you cursed yourself for not thinking of it first. 

As you were getting up to grab your bed supplies, a freezing hand pulled you back down and into him. You caught your balance with your hand on his jacketed shoulder, “What the hell?-” 

“Just listen to me,” he cut you off, “The only way either of us is gonna last the night is if we use our body heat. The fire’s going to help but it won’t be enough.”

You scowled, was that seriously the only option? 

Instead of letting you take your sweet time to contemplate whether or not it was worth it to cuddle with him for your life, he tugged you into him and laid down with you. 

His arms wrapped around your front as he held you against his chest, and holy fuck, it felt as if you had been leaning against a furnace. His heat warmed you up quickly, and you brought a blanket up to your chin to keep that heat locked in. 

The proximity of the two of you was what kept you from falling asleep immediately. His chin resting in your neck made you feel something you didn’t want to admit you felt about Five. His arms around your waist made you want him to move his hands just a little bit lower. 

You had an idea that could get you killed. 

While pretending to adjust and get comfortable, you gently grinded your ass against him, trying to get a reaction. 

Immediately, you could feel his arms tighten around you, and a bulge was already pressing into you. 

He leaned closer to your ear and growled quietly, “What do you think you’re doing?” 

You turned your neck to look at him, performing with the sweetest eyes you could display, “Just getting comfortable.” 

Your lips were inches away from his, yet neither of you made a move to close the gap. Five still looked at you with skeptical eyes even though he knew exactly what you had planned. 

Once you moved your hips again, a little harder, he pressed his face into your shoulder as he sighed and repeated the action. 

You let out a quiet groan, enjoying the pressure, yet you brought the blanket up over your mouth to muffle it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. 

He picked up his pace, lowering his hands to hold your hips firm, rolling them against his. The blush on your face grew even more red, and you could feel beads of sweat forming on your forehead. 

His grip was tight, his groans were getting louder, and it felt like you really had frozen to death because this felt like heaven. 

His hand crawled through your layered sweatpants as he reached between your legs. As his cold fingers reached the spot you needed him most, you almost cried out, desperately needing the pressure. 

His other hand moved from your waist, traveled under your sweatshirts, and found its place on your breast. The freezing touch had such a strong sensation, and the pressure felt so good. 

“Please,” you let out, knowing you’d be kicking yourself later for sounding so painfully desperate, “I need more.” 

He moaned in your ear as his bulge pushed harder against you, “We can’t.” 

“Please,” you pleaded, as his fingers circled your clit.

God, you felt pathetic but it felt so good. 

He groaned as he gathered your wetness. 

“It isn’t safe,” he said, disappointed at the fact that you just couldn’t risk that in the apocalypse. 

Before you could beg, he plunged his long fingers into you, soft moans spilling from your throat at the motions. 

His actions grew faster and so did his panting, you knew he was getting close and you were too. 

You turned your neck to face him, looking up at his flush face. He met your dazed eyes, admiring how your face glowed with pleasure. His eyes locked onto your lips as he moved closer and captured them with his. 

Moaning into each other's mouths was just too much for you both, as he came in his sweatpants as you came around his fingers. He let you both ride out your highs before he gently pulled out his fingers. 

He looked at you unusually sweetly, and as you turned to ask what that face was about he shoved his fingers into your mouth, sliding your juices onto your tongue, letting you taste yourself. 

You were surprised initially and groaned at the action, then bit his fingers which caused him to scowl and quickly pull them out. 

“This doesn’t change anything.” 

“Of course not.” 

~~~

tags: @groovydazephantom

[girlrotterr]

But I'm a Lesbian! pt.6

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: omgg, the final chapter is heree!! thank you to everyone who supported this series!! I love & appreciate you <33

→ Part one! → Part two! → Part three! → Part four! → Part five!

You and Ellie hurried through the dark hallways, The darkness of the night was cold, the moon casting long shadows on the ground. The only sounds were the distant chirping of crickets and the occasional rustling of leaves. Your footsteps were careful, almost soundless, but your whispers broke the silence.

“You should start the fire,” you said, glancing nervously around to make sure no one was nearby.

“Me? Why me?” Ellie snapped back in a whisper, wincing slightly from the pain in her asscheek.

“Because you’ve got the lighter!” you argued, trying to keep your voice low.

Ellie shook her head, “And you have hands! It’s not rocket science. Just light it up and run.”

"Seriously, I shouldn't be the one starting it," you argued. "If something goes wrong, I don't want to be the one to blame.”

Ellie snapped back, "And you think I do? This is your mess too!"

"Ugh! Why do you have to argue with everything?" you exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

Ellie scoffed, "What are you talking about?"

"You're always disagreeing or instigating something," you shot back. "Shit, it's the reason for most of your fits with Abby! Which, by the way, there's clearly some gay-ass tension between you two..."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Seriously?! You want to talk about this now? We wouldn't even BE doing this if someone didn't kill the fucking nurse!"

You gasped, feeling a pang of guilt. "I didn't kill her!... At least I don't think I did... fuck! I hope I didn't!!"

Ellie scoffed again, her tone sharp. "If that blow didn't kill her, then a permanent coma is her best bet."

You sighed in relief, "I don't need charges on my record so soon... I still need to commit—wait, wait, wait! Don't fucking change the subject! What's the animosity with Abby?!"

Ellie shot you a look. "What's with the questions all of a sudden?!"

"I need answers to all the crazy shit you've all put me through! Like, how did the nurse and Abby even happen? Why is the director of a conversion camp a closeted lesbian? And why is Dina the only somewhat normal person here—"

Before you could finish, Ellie swiftly covered your mouth with her hand, her eyes burning with intensity. "You're... insufferable," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "From the moment you stepped foot into our dorm, you've been aggravating."

You blinked, taken aback by her sudden outburst. Ellie's face was close to yours, her gaze unwavering. "I was doing so well," she continued, her voice strained. "I had everything under control, focusing on my tasks, keeping my composure. And yet, you came along and ruined it all."

"You've taken over my mind. Suddenly every thought I have is centered around you. I can’t focus on something without needing to gaze at you." Ellie muttered, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "You've completely thrown me off balance."

You could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between wanting to push you away and needing to be close to you. Your eyes widened . Ellie’s words sank in, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You mumbled something against her hand, and she slowly let it go.

"If you were having gay panic, you should've just said so," you said, half-teasing.

A sudden light illuminated the nearby path, casting long shadows across the courtyard. The director was doing her rounds, her flashlight sweeping from side to side. Ellie reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and pulling you down into the bushes. You both crouched low, trying to steady your breathing as the director's footsteps grew closer.

"Shit," Ellie whispered, her grip on your arm tightening. "We need to stay quiet."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. The director's light passed dangerously close, the beam brushing the edges of the bushes where you hid. You could hear her muttering to herself, something about the nurse not being at her station. Ellie glanced at you, her eyes wide. 

The light paused, and you both held your breath, the world seeming to freeze around you. The director's footsteps resumed, moving away from your hiding spot. You exhaled slowly, feeling a rush of relief.

"That was close," you whispered, glancing at Ellie.

You both stayed hidden for a few more moments, ensuring the director was far enough away. Then, cautiously, Ellie peeked out from the bushes, scanning the area. "Alright, she's gone. Let's move."

You both emerged from your hiding spot, hearts still racing. The courtyard was silent again, the only sound being the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. Ellie took your hand, leading you toward the designated spot for starting the fire. 

"Okay," Ellie whispered, her eyes darting around  "We need to fucking hurry."

You nodded, your nerves on edge. "I'll keep watch. You start the fire."

Ellie shot you a look. "Alright."

She set to work, gathering some dry leaves and twigs, her movements quick and precise. You kept watch, scanning the courtyard for any signs of movement. The tension was suffocating, every rustle of the wind making you jump.

Ellie fumbled with the lighter, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to strike a flame. The lighter jammed, and she cursed under her breath, shaking it and trying again. "Come on, damn it!"

You stood next to her, nervously glancing around. "Hurry up, Ellie! The director could come back any second!"

"I'm trying!" Ellie snapped back, shaking the lighter vigorously. "This piece of shit isn't working!"

The two of you exchanged heated words, the stress of the situation making it hard to stay calm. "Why isn't it working?" you hissed, your anxiety spiking.

Ellie pulled it away, her eyes flashing with irritation. "I've got it! Just give me a second!"

Just as you were about to respond, the lighter finally sparked to life. Ellie quickly brought it to the pile of dry leaves and twigs, the tiny flame catching and starting to grow. But before she could fully ignite the pile, the director's flashlight beam swept across the courtyard again, heading straight for you.

"Come on, let's go!" Ellie grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the scene. In her rush, she accidentally kicked a burning stick near the edge of the building. Flames began to lick at the wooden structure, spreading rapidly.

You and Ellie ran toward the forest, hearts pounding, not daring to look back until you were safely hidden among the trees. Breathless, you both turned to see the building catching fire, the flames climbing higher.

"Uh, Ellie," you said, staring at the growing blaze.

Ellie followed your gaze, her expression shifting from shock to disbelief. "Well, shit,"

_____

"Hold her legs up higher!" Abby grunted, struggling with the weight.

"I'm trying!" Dina hissed back, sweat beading on her forehead. 

The two of them wrestled with the nurse's limp form, trying to fit her into the cramped space. Abby pushed, and Dina pulled, both of them gritting their teeth with the effort.

"Okay, almost there," Abby said, maneuvering the nurse's arm inside. "Just a little more."

Dina adjusted the nurse's legs, finally managing to tuck them in. The cabinet door barely closed, the nurse's fingers still visible through the gap.

"Shit, that’s not gonna work," Dina muttered, eyeing the barely shut door.

"We don't have time," Abby said, her tone urgent. "We need to get our stuff and get out of here..”

Dina nodded, moving quickly to the drawer they had been trying to unlock. "The nurse had the keys, right?"

Abby reached into the nurse's pocket, pulling out a small set of keys. "Fuck yeah."

Abby tossed the keys to Dina, but in the rush, Dina fumbled the catch, and the keys fell to the ground with a metallic clink. Dina scrambled to pick them up, her hands shaking . At that exact moment, a loud crash echoed. Abby turned to see the nurse's body come flying out of the cabinet, landing face down on the floor. 

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Abby groaned in frustration.

"Sooo, I know this isn't the most perfect time to ask this but.." Dina glanced at Abby who was holding the limp body over her shoulder.

"Just ask," Abby replied, her tone strained with the effort of holding the nurse's body.

Dina took a deep breath. "Do you think after all this, you and Ellie could reconcile?"

Abby's brows furrowed in surprise. "What?"

"Everything that happened with Cat, Ab's," Dina continued.

Abby furrowed her brows, "It wasn't that serious with Cat, alright? We were just having fun. And besides, Cat just wasn't the one for ellie."

Dina let out an exasperated sigh. "Imagine how Ellie felt walking in on you giving her crush mind-blowing backshots with another bitch suffocating on her tits!"

Abby rolled her eyes. "You were that other bitch!"

Dina scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. "Woah, woah, woah! I apologized to Ellie, okay?! I blamed it on the perc and told her that it made me hallucinate!"

Suddenly, the shrill sound of the fire alarm pierced the air.

"Shit, shit, shit," Abby cursed, glancing nervously at the door. "We need to hurry."

Dina's heart raced as she finally managed to open the drawer, revealing their confiscated belongings piled inside. "Got it!" She quickly grabbed their things and stuffed them into her bag, her movements frantic as she tried to gather everything.

"We need to go, now!" Abby urged. 

___ 

You and Ellie sprinted through the forest, branches scratching at your arms and legs as you dodged trees and bushes. The glow of the fire behind you illuminated the night.

Finally, you broke through the tree line and spotted Abby and Dina emerging from the building, looking frazzled but unharmed. They hurried toward you, carrying bags filled with your confiscated belongings.

"We need to fucking leave now!" Ellie gasped for air, glancing back at the burning building. "The director's out here—what the fuck?" She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening at the sight of the nurse still limp and draped over Abby's shoulder.

Abby adjusted her grip on the nurse, "She wouldn't fit, okay!" Abby said defensively, her voice strained. "I didn't know what else to do!"

Dina, her face flushed with adrenaline, glanced nervously at the approaching flames and the chaos behind them. "Her plump fucking ass would take up half the space!"

“Is she still out?" you asked, looking at the nurse's unconscious form.

Abby nodded, "Yeah, she hasn't woken up yet."

"We need to hide her somewhere," Ellie said, her mind racing. "If the director finds her like this, we'll be fucking screwed."

Dina pointed toward a nearby shed, half-hidden in the shadows. "There! We can hide her in there."

With a collective effort, you all hurried toward the shed, Abby struggling to keep the nurse balanced as you navigated through the forest. Ellie pushed open the creaky door, and you quickly cleared a space inside, shoving old tools and supplies out of the way.

Abby gently laid the nurse down on a pile of rags,"Hopefully no bears chew her alive," Dina said, straightening up and wiping sweat from her brow.

 "Yeah, they’d have to chew through the silicone first." abby said.

___

As you continued through the forest, the distant glow of the fire gradually faded, but the urgency to keep moving pressed on. Finally, after what felt like hours, you stumbled upon a small clearing near the edge of the property. There, partially hidden behind some bushes, was the director's car.

"Fuck yeah," Ellie muttered, running her hand over the hood. "This is our way out."

Abby glanced around nervously. "We need to hurry. The director could be anywhere."

Ellie quickly got to work on the car, she pried open the dashboard and began fumbling with the wires. The silence of the night was broken only by the occasional crackle of leaves and distant shouts from the burning building.

Dina kept watch, her eyes darting around. "Come on, Ellie, faster," she urged, her voice tight with anxiety.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Ellie snapped back, her fingers working frantically. "This isn't exactly fucking easy."

Just then, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. 

“You fucking clit sucking lesbians!!”  You turned to see the director, flashlight in hand, sprinting toward you, her face a mask of fury. 

"Shit! She's coming!" you yelled, panic setting in.

"Why did we let this fucking loser do this intricate ass shit!" Dina yelled.

"Shut up and let me concentrate!" Ellie snapped, her hands shaking as she twisted the last wire.

You all turned to see the director sprinting towards you, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. 

The engine roared to life just as the director reached the car. Without a second thought, Ellie slammed her foot on the gas pedal. The car lurched forward, the tires kicking up dirt and gravel. The director, caught off guard, tried to jump out of the way but wasn't quick enough. The car clipped her, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"Oh my fucking god!" Dina screamed, turning to look back at the director lying motionless on the ground.

The car skidded to a halt down the road, and the four of you rushed out. 

Blood trickled from a gash on the director's forehead, glistening under the dim moonlight. You covered your mouth, a wave of nausea washing over you. "This is why I wanted to escape alone!" you exclaimed, "Whenever I'm with you three, some insane shit happens!"

Dina clutched your arm, "Maybe we can be cellmates!" 

Ellie began pacing back and forth, "I need a cigarette. " she said, running a hand through her hair.

Abby, meanwhile, had knelt beside the director. She rifled through the director's pockets, finally pulling out her wallet. "Well, we need money, right?" she said, flipping it open and inspecting it.

"Are you seriously robbing her right now?" Ellie snapped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Abby stood up, pocketing the wallet. "We can't afford to get caught. If we have to be on the run, we'll need cash."

You felt a rush of frustration. "This is insane. We’re not criminals!"

"Maybe not, but we are now," Abby replied, her tone cold. "We don’t have a choice."

Dina glanced back at the car, her eyes flicking between the director and the vehicle. "We can’t leave her here. Someone will find her, and then they'll trace us."

Ellie stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "We need to hide her, at least until we can figure out our next move."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "Alright, let's move her into the woods, somewhere she won't be easily found."

Together, you and the others carefully lifted the director's unconscious body, moving her off the road and deeper into the forest. The underbrush crackled underfoot as you carried her, the darkness swallowing you up. You finally found a secluded spot, laying her gently on the ground.

"Okay," Abby said, looking around, "this should buy us some time."

Dina sighed heavily, wiping her forehead. "Now what?"

"We get back in the car and keep driving," Ellie said, her voice firm. "We find somewhere to lay low and come up with a plan."

As Ellie started the car, the headlights illuminated a figure standing in the middle of the road. It was another nurse, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene."Excuse me, ma'am," Dina yelled out the window, “Where’s the nearest gay bar?"

[jedimaesteryoda]

One trend I've noticed a lot lately in the speculation of Tyrion meeting Daenerys is how he'll influence her. The argument often is that Tyrion will encourage her more "fire and blood" destructive tendencies when they get to Westeros. However, this view is often one-sided as it's always about how Tyrion will influence Daenerys but never about how Daenerys will influence Tyrion.

"Daenerys, I am thrice your age," Ser Jorah said. "I have seen how false men are. Very few are worthy of trust, and Daario Naharis is not one of them. Even his beard wears false colors." That angered her. "Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?" He stiffened. "I did not say that." "You say it every day. Pyat Pree's a liar, Xaro's a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin . . . do you think I'm still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?" "Your Grace—" She bulled over him. "You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better." -ASOS, Daenerys IV

Daenerys is not the sheltered child Aegon was who Tyrion could easily manipulate as shown when she called out Jorah for trying to isolate her from other men. Even Tyrion admitted to Aegon, having never met Daenerys that "she is strong" and "fierce." Daenerys was more worldly at 14 than Aegon is at 16. Even as a small, frightened girl at age 13 in the beginning of the series, she had more street smarts than her adult brother Viserys and has shown to be a prodigy in the series. Tyrion would not be able to manipulate her easily, especially since would initially be wary of him for being a Lannister.

Tyrion at the end of the day would be serving as her subordinate, him being largely dependent on her. Tyrion largely is the way he is because of the toxic family he grew up in. The Lannister vision has no idea of a Good Society, it's just pure self-aggrandizement by any means necessary. As the adage goes, rot always starts at the head. The monarchs Tyrion served as Hand, Joffrey and Cersei, were both cruel, incompetent tyrants with senses of entitlement that outweighed their actual abilities. They also had no concept of the duties of a monarch to their subjects, and instead just abused their power over others, including sexually. The one who actually ran the show for the Lannister regime, Tywin, was a cold, abusive Machiavellian who brutalized the smallfolk and his children, seeing them as pawns in his schemes. Tyrion could be cunning and brutal, because it was both encouraged and necessary for the winner-take-all, dog-eat-dog world of the Lannister court. It was an environment designed to bring out the darker side of his nature.

However, since the beginning we saw hints of the lighter side of his nature such as when he gave emotional support to Jon and designed a special saddle for Bran. He even helped Catelyn when they were attacked by the mountain clans even though she kidnapped him. In A Clash of Kings, we see hints of Tyrion wanting to be something other than the cold Machiavellian like his father when he stands up for Sansa when Joffrey beats her, and he has Morec killed and Slynt sent to the Wall for killing Barra, wanting to "do justice." In A Dance with Dragons, he risks his life to protect Aegon and even in his lowest he looks out for Penny even though she is a complete stranger to him.

Daenerys is a foil to Cersei, whose ruling philosophy is expressed in the statement "Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" Daenerys tries to live up to the image of an ideal monarch who protects the weak. She liberates the oppressed from slavery and tries to protect them, even performing acts like tending to those afflicted with the bloody flux herself, marrying someone she doesn't want and putting her plan of going to Westeros on hold to achieve peace. Working as Hand to Queen Daenerys, Tyrion may find himself in a change of pace in a different environment where for once his more positive tendencies are encouraged with his fondness for "cripples, bastards and broken things."

In short, in cutting himself off from his toxic family, Tyrion may actually find a new beginning in service to Daenerys. He's the Machiavellian polymath and court politician she needs, and she's the competent, idealistic monarch he needs.

[mullty]

-Spoilers for Call of Duty Black Ops 6 Ahead.-

Bro I literally teared up. I am honestly only playing for the character that is Frank Woods. I grew up with Alex Mason and his story and recently I've gotten back into it as an adult. I love the arc we have sort've been on with Alex and Frank. They are so special to me and I could go on forever about them- but enough about me-

So Far there are two moments that I've just loved and been incredibly sad at. The shorter one, that you will probably barely notice, is when we are back at the mansion-manor?, home? house?-

We, as Case, are next to my new favorite person maybe ever Felix. The rest are near a fire they have and before Adler radios in with bad news, you hear the end of a funny memory Frank is sharing with the team.

So far, I have felt that even though we have the same Frank Woods, he is a very obviously subdued version of him. It's felt like... I don't know. Do you know when you're pretending you are normal and cracking jokes but you're so exhausted and you'd rather not say anything but you don't want anyone to ask you anything. I do think he's like making an effort but this whole situation starts off with Adler who we later learn is the one being blamed for Frank's "Condition" and the deaths of Alex Mason and Jason Hudson. I wouldn't want to be reminded of that dang mission ever in my life but suddenly Adler is back into the mix and suddenly it's all about Panama and Mason and who Frank once was- and I think it's a lot for him. He's older. He can't fight. He can't move as he once did. Now, he has people he is mentoring. He's staying back while they go. He had built a wall around these people because this isn't forever and he didn't owe them a sob story. Anyway- so yeah it's a big deal that he's sharing a story with them because it's a story about Alex. It's not confirmed but all we hear is something in the realm of (I'm paraphrasing)

"Yeah, we are in D.C. now- Not Alaska." Which prompts a laugh from the people there.

Now. Let's put on our thinking caps on and try to remember who in the game is canonically Alaskan.

ALEX MASON. HE'S TELLING THEM ABOUT ALEX AND A FUNNY STORY ABOUT HIM. BECAUSE FRANK KNEW HIM. FRANK KNEW HIM AND KNEW ALL SIDES OF HIM and Alex wasn't just some coworker that survived getting brainwashed and was basically the best soldier there ever was.

Alex was his best friend. They mention it multiple times in the story.

Frank lost his Best Friend. Most of all, he feels it was his fault because he pulled the trigger.

He let his walls down and he's letting these people in to know someone so important to him.

The next moment is when we go up to talk to him and ask how he's doing. I think there is a visible change in him. He feels lighter.

He talks about enjoying the "thing they have going on." They don't take orders from anyone and they're kind of their own paramilitary group in a way. No hidden agendas just stopping the bad guys. and Case responds with, "You don't have to go back to Langley."

And why would he want to go back there let's be honest.

And THEN HE RESPONDS WITH "I haven't told anyone this but with Mason gone, I wanna look after his boy... Bring him up."

And what had me in this scene isn't that he is going to raise David, We know he ends up doing that.

BUT how much Frank has come to terms with letting go.

Frank obviously to some degree enjoyed his job. I don't know how long he did it for but, he is still involved back at the C.I.A so we can see that he didn't want to be left out completely.

And he gets a taste of that back.

He has found something that works for him and allows him to continue on this path. But. BUT.

"With Mason gone, I wanna look after his boy."

He's going to leave it behind for David and Alex.

He's not going to leave David alone. ALEX WENT BACK TO THAT LIFE despite having PROMISED his son that he was done. because of frank. Frank needed him and Alex saved him.

A lot of fans point at Frank and Alex and say Gay lovers.

and like yeah what about it.

But also I think what the writers are going for is the most devasting option is that these guys are Best Friends and that's so much worse.

Idk if any of ya'll ever had a best friend, but there are moments when you question if God made them just for you.

Because the closeness you feel in your soul and the Love that is the same Love and Loyalty you reserve only for Family outpours to them as well. And they aren't family but they're someone who knows the most inner parts of you. A best friend is someone who loves you back just the same.

I honestly believe that there was nothing Frank could've ever done that would've turned Alex away from him. Frank was blinded by revenge and accidentally killed an innocent girl, but Alex remained by his side.

It just killed me because Frank could've kept going, Idk if he retires after COD 6 something tells me he does, but he doesn't.

David needs him. He needs to keep Alex's memory alive and I personally headcannon that Frank mentions Alex all the time. Like it's rare if you don't hear about Frank's best friend Alex in a whole week because that was Frank's best friend and he was a Badass.

Anyways there might've been more for me to say but it's late .

(Excuse typos and anytime I type in caps it's because I'm yelling.)

[crezz-star]

So… I finally made a One piece OC.

All due to the idea I've been imagining today. A what if Luffy and the crew met someone who, very uncanny, looks and sounds like Ace.

Thus… Jean was made. ✏️✏️✏️

Info at read more ( it is a messy ramble format so beware. )

He was born as a slave to the celestial dragons, after his parents was caught while his mother was pregnant to him.

He grew up with an isolated understanding that he really was just that. A slave, until he died. his parents would die just a few years in from the torture done to them. While Jean still lives on. He would meet Boa and the others who was like him telling him that there was more to the world than their servitude. But he was way too unmovable with his mentality that he will die like that, that he thinks they're just being dumb he would get depressed as time passed, so when the freeing of slaves at Mary Geoise by fisher tiger came, he was too weak to even move and being mistaken as already dead, he was left there.

but he is still alive and would later then be dumped on auction houses by his current owner. where he would, surprisingly be given better treatment by his fellow slaves as well as taken care of.

he would meet different kinds of people in the auction houses. where he would learn about the world and eventually wanting to be free.

Jean is at the auction house at sabaody, the place where luffy destroyed and punched a celestial dragon. he's in his cat form. and thats the moment he finally achieved freedom.

he hears about the man who freed them and made it his missiong to thank him. maybe even join the adventures of his savior if allowed the two years he spent wandering around, would be the time he would stumble upon the graphite graphite fruit, which what would also help him get stronger, learning to fight on his own as well.

once he deems himself strong enough, he would seek out luffy and his crew to finally and hopefully thank him and ask to join him. hoping to be able to create drawings of the landscape in the places they would visit.

how he met the crew:

after punk hazard. on the way to dressrosa ( they arrived at a small island where Jean is currently in, to restock ). Jean saw their ship, transformed into his cat/tiger form and went into the ship.

once the crew left the island. he's already there. and when everyone saw him. they just though he was some cat.

chopper was the first who was talking to him and chopper thought he was a stray and Jean just went with it for a while.

everyone treated him like some pet. until one morning where he poofed back to his human form.

everyone was in panic. but when he showed that he was their pet. ( he was VERY PROUD to be called the pet of the strawhats ) everyone was a bit freaked not because of that but he looks and sounds like ace.

everyone is very shaken especially luffy and thught he was some evil guy using ace's face

jean explained that they saved him at sabaody, that he was one of the slaves at the auction house.

he would always use his cat form after seeing how shaken luffy is with him. not minding being in cat from one bit. so long as he lets him join them.

luffy does eventually let him join. at first only referring to him as 'pet cat' to finally calling him by name 'jean'

Jean is part of the mature group of the crew.

he does have similar personality as Ace but he likes to tease the younger ones a lot. especially making Zoro feel jelly by being too close to Luffy

yes this is ZoLuccentric

Jean is pushing Zoro and Luffy to realize their 'feelings' for one another.

JEAN BITS

Jean is 28

Jean loves hot chocolate as it reminds him of his mother. the only thing that his mother ever made him.

Jean's weapon of choice is his foot. making his battle style a bit similar to Sanji ( careful not to harm his hands anymore, wanting to paint )

but he does still use his hands when he uses his devil fruit. he fighs like a martial artist'

Jean's devil fruit is a good conductor of fire so he always have a lighter with him. he sets fire to his graphite which creates the illusion that he uses fire. ( another thing that makes him unsettling for Luffy and the crew.

his devil fruit is logia type. his graphite can be sand like crocodile and or liquid ish like candle and or can be solid as well.

Jean would most likely always be found at high places in places they visit, to paint / draw

jean is 6'5"

he and usopp get along well because of their artistic side.

he can do recon missions well because of his ability to transform to a cat

[tumbleweed-run]

Hello! I love your writing <3 May I ask, do you have any headcanons for Gale? I have a few (eg: his mother raised him alone - he's an only child - as much as he enjoys homecooked meals he's very well known in Waterdeep's fine dining establishments) I'm interested in hearing what you imagine about Gale outside what the game tells us!

Lighter stuff

I agree with you on pretty much all points

Gale might appreciate wine but he strikes me as a fancy whiskey boy. It's a vibe I get

His mother hates the beard, which is why he didn't grow it out until the hermit stage

He loves all books. Magical tomes, history of Faerun, tawdry bodice rippers. And he has a system to his library but it makes no sense to anyone who is not Gale

Personally, I think he's well-known in all Waterdeep's dining establishments. He's in the Yawning Portal at some point as an adult but I also feel like he visits the finer restaurants- probably with his mother

he was raised wealthy, I know he like "oh I haven't dabbled in wealth" but my dear boy was Top Teir middle class at best. I don't think they were 'own the world wealthy' but I believe he grew up with more than just a housekeeper, not having to worry about money. Mama's got Sea Ward money

And of course (because I pointed out his 'tower' is in the Dock Ward) I think as an adult Gale moved to the "rough and tumble" part of town to prove himself. (which is probably why they know him in the poorer establishments )

His tower is a freaking row home, maybe its like two floors taller. But it is a house. Gale is just a fanciful man. Or he's manifesting that shit, idk

I also think he goes home to mama in the sea ward at least 2x a week

Gale is a sorcerer

Gale is 300% a sorcerer whose mother(not magic) was fed up with her shit being set on fire, so she sent him to train in magics the way she was most familiar - Wizard Apprenticing

Less Light Stuff

Gale mentions 'parents' once (I think during the I was denied a kitten speech) I think his father was there at first and then left. Maybe he couldn't handle Gale, or he was just a shitty guy. I think that was the road to Gales "I'm not enough, I must prove I'm enough" syndrome.

I also believe he first encountered Mystra in the Sea Ward at the 'House of Wonder' which is a temple devoted to her. I believe he was young like 13/14 but my guess is she was aware of him from a younger age. (Most wizards apprentice starting at 13... and usually have no spellcasting abilities which is...)

I don't think his favorite color is purple. I think it was Mystra's color and therefor it became his favorite (which is why I like dying all his clothes NOT Purple). Judging by the only room we saw, it's red/maroon/burgundy- but he doesn't know that

I think some of his stunts at Blackstaff were not just his own hubris though he sees it that way, but also at "hey mystra look at me" thing. Which I think she encouraged

I also believe that he was a young adult when the muse-to-lover transition took place. Maybe a few years after he left his apprenticeship, he was old enough to be a 'man' but it was definitely a product of grooming.

I don't think he was ever truly her Chosen. Most gods bestow cool powers (look at the dead 3) or at least protections. She just... screwed him? Taunted him with stuff she knew was going to keep him hooked on her?

When he saw Mystra's interest waning he panicked because he didn't have very many friends (his only named or mentioned friend is Elminster who has the most messed up history with Mystra) and he'd certainly not taken a lover once she 'chose' him. And I assume this was years before the netherese orb disaster. He probably did increasingly dangerous things/adventures to keep her attention, just like he did as a boy.

[twigg96]

Food Poisoning

Daddy! Daryl X Reader

Place: Alexandria

Warnings: Literally food poisoning, vomit, a little fart joke, Kids being kids about being sick, Sickness

POV - You

Summary - After having stew with some tainted meat in it your three kiddos (Phoenix - 11, Beau - 6, and Lillian - 2) get a bad case of food poisoning. Just as kids do Beau comes in to tell his parents exactly what happened feeling traumatized and violated after he "threwed up".

The night had started off so genuinely nice. Normal even. For the turn that is. You had made dinner from the rabbit and squirrel Daryl hunted earlier in the day. It had been a hotter day than either of you realized it would be. But you never let that deter you from your duties. Daryl had warned you that the heat of the day may have spoilt some of the meat. And that he had lost one of the rabbits. He got a bad shot on it and when he finally found it, it was long dead with an arrow deep in its broken leg. He simply added it to his string not thinking anything of it. Wasn’t until later in the hunt he thought better of it and decided to chuck it… well he thought he tossed the right one at least. After a while he wasn’t so sure anymore. So he asked you to be extra vigilant while cooking that night. To sniff the meat and make sure nothing was camping out inside before tossing it in the fire to be cooked. 

You had listened. Truly you did. You had washed and smelled the meat as you cleaned and skinned it. Nothing smelled bad and so you went as far as to make a little stew for the whole community with the meat and some of Rick’s vegetables he grew in his garden. Everyone in the community seemed to love it. They ate it up vigorously and basked in the post fullness bliss of a good meal. You watched your kids play out in the yard with the other neighborhood children. When night fell after the kids had gone to bed, you and Daryl even felt adventurous enough to get a little handsy before falling into blissful sleep. 

Or that’s what the archer would have liked to have happened. But seeing as he was ripped from the calming embrace of sleep in the midst of REM he would have to argue otherwise… “Daddy…” A small and timid voice had called out into the darkness of the night. At first Daryl had believed it was just part of his dream. The one where none of the hell they lived in existed and he and his family lived in the peace he once knew. “Daddy…” The voice whispered nearer this time. Cutting straight through the lovely dream he had been having. Blinking awake slowly Daryl growled, slapping around blindly for the electric lamp sitting on the bedside table. With a click Daryl’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Beau stood a mere two inches away from the edge of the bed, only his head could be seen poking from over the side as he clutched his teddy bear close to his chest. “Daddy.” Beau whispered shakily, his lip pouting out and his eyes wide and full of tears. “Yeah?” Daryl mumbled tiredly as he tried to put together why his son was in his room in the dead of night. Sitting up in bed, the sheets falling to his exposed chest he looked over to you and sighed. You were starting to stir. Blinking away the garish light. Damn… you needed all the sleep you could get.

 “What… what do you want, Beau?” Daryl asked tiredly, reaching over you to grab a cigarette from your end table. “Well..” Beau started shuffling his feet anxiously. Daryl cocked a brow at the towheaded boy placing the cig in his mouth and flicking the lighter trying to get it to light. “Daddy… I threwed up.” He mumbled with a sob.” The words froze Daryl in his place. Maybe he it was just his foggy sleep deprived brain that was miss hearing what his son just said. But as his wife sat up stare at the two of them like they both started to grow wings and speak in tongues Daryl knew that he had heard correctly. “What?” You asked rubbing your eyes. Beau sobbed nodding. “Lillian threwed up first! Phoenix got up to check on her and she threwed up on the floor!” Beau sobbed helplessly. The both of you stared at Beau in disbelief and disgust. “So…” you ventured to ask, crawling over to your husband’s side of the bed. “Did you throw up Beau?” The little blonde nods swiping away fat tears and it isn’t until then that Daryl is able to make out the new stains on his son’s shirt and pants. “After I farted on the floor.” He whined. Daryl and you share a confused look. Farted… on the floor? What the hell does that mean? OH FUCK NO. Pulling his cigarette from his mouth Daryl gaped at Beau. “What do ya mean… farted on the flo- Beau!” He huffed twisting to the side of the bed. “Did ya shit on the floor?!” he hissed. Feeling your hand on his arm he tried to calm down but the sound of their youngest starting to scream and cry from their shared room and their eldest yelling “Mommy! Daddy! Lilly needs a bath!” was all too overwhelming for him at the moment. “Daryl.” Your calming voice drowned out the madness as your hand squeezed his. “I’ll work on cleaning up. Just… find a bucket… or two… and get them bathed and back in bed. Please. We got this, we’ve been through worse.” And suddenly Daryl knew. You were right. You always were. 

Standing with a groan, Daryl was grateful that he was wearing just boxers when Beau walked directly into his legs for a hug. God… kids and their need to be touched when they're sick. Scooping him into his arms Daryl sighed the smell of vomit was strong, but nothing he couldn’t handle after the hell they’ve lived through. “Sure ya don’t want me ta clean up too? I can-” Daryl muttered walking towards the door, Beau’s head already nuzzled under his chin seeking some semblance of comfort. “Daryl.” You had chided, cutting him off. “We’re a team. I got it, don’t worry.” With a small nod he hummed walking into the kid’s room to access the damage… and it was worse than he imagined. Scowling he sighed not seeing either of his daughters. “Phoenix!” He yelled, shuffling Beau in his arms, starting to search for them. The piercing wail of his two year old would normally have been terrifying given the world they live in but seeing as she was in the bathroom with his eldest at the moment he was simply annoyed. The water for the tap was running and when he popped his head in to see what was happening he rolled his eyes and groaned. “Phoenix… baby. Are you tryin’ ta drown yer sister?” He muttered trying so hard to make light of the situation. Phoenix’s head whipped around as she stared at him, the tub getting dangerously full as she held a fully clothed Lilly in the tub. 

Moving to place Beau on the floor Daryl kneeled beside Phoenix, turning the tap off and taking Lilly into his arms, sopping wet and all. “I was just trying to get her and her clothes clean, dad.” Phoenix whispered looking slightly ashamed and embarrassed. Taking a deep breath Daryl sighed, bouncing the screaming toddler doing his best not to emulate his own father in this situation by screaming in the face of his own children. “T-Thank you…” He bit out. It was a start at least that’s what he assumed. “Now… do me a favor…” He muttered lowly. “Get some towels for me, and some clean pajamas for all you kids and come back. Yer all gettin’ a damned bath.” 

It wasn’t until the early morning light streamed through the blinds that the rancid smell finally seemed to be mostly gone. You had done your best to clean everything up with only homemade vinegar as your main cleaning supply as everything else was running low. The windows were wide open despite the cool weather but even that didn’t deter your three hellions from getting some sleep. The two of you had decided to simply toss and burn the sheets and pajamas the kids had been sleeping in and just use old ones until you could find new ones on a run. As the two of you stood side by side watching the fire in the brisk morning air you couldn’t help but laugh. “Wha’?” Daryl nearly hissed, glaring at you. “Nothing… just… kinda feels normal ya know? We haven’t had to do that since before the turn when Phoenix was little.” You whispered thinking of the time Phoenix had simply crawled into your bed and proceeded to vomit all over Daryl like she was in the exorcist. Daryl stared into the fire but a small smile crossed his lips. “Yeah… suppose so…” Holding your hand he began to rub his thumb along the back of your hand. Any sense of normalcy in this life was better than none he assumed.

[writing-positivelyexisting]

Warm Bodies

The Bad Batch. Bad Batch/Reader. | writing-positivelyexisting🫧

For the 50 followers celebration, I give you this fluffy Bad Batch/Reader! Thank you guys! <3

Sent on a mission to the frozen planet, Kijimi, the crunch of snow was becoming a white noise to you. You trekked behind Echo, desperately pulling your arms across your middle and into your body, trying to contain as much body heat as possible. You weren’t built for this. You grew up on Tatooine. Snow was not your element.

You looked over at your comrades in their winter armor. Not a single shiver or a drippy sniffle. It boggled you completely. How in the galaxy did they stay warm? Genetics? Maybe it was part of their enhancements. Whatever was keeping these men warm would stay a mystery, and it made you envious.

A gust of particularly strong force blew past the group and you felt every fiber in your body jitter. Your body was wracked with a violent shiver to the point where it made you stop moving.

Crosshair, who was walking behind everyone, stopped to look at you. He heard your chattering teeth and had to keep his chuckle in the back of his throat.

“Cold?”

If you weren’t so frozen in place you would have hit him. “No. I was just about to strip, it’s so hot.”

“Be my guest,” he teased, his cruel and taunting smile hidden behind his helmet.

“For the love of – Hunter! Can we please set up camp?”

The leader, farther than the rest of you, stopped and looked back. Seeing you a miserable cold mess brought out a pitiful sigh from him. He comm’d back, “The first sign of shelter we will. Need an extra coat?”

You groaned, but nodded to his offer. You trudged up to Hunter as fast as your icicle-legs would allow and took the heavy parka Hunter packed.

“Thanks,” you huffed, shoving your arms through in greed. Zipping up the jacket, you felt a little difference. It would have to do for now.

Hunter gave you a look over, wanting to be sure you were alright to continue. He could hear the increased rhythm of your heart and felt his own pang in helplessness. Offering you the jacket was the best he could do for you now.

He looked over at Tech beside him and tilted his head, “Can you scan for shelter?”

“Certainly,” Tech tucked his data pad away then looked up, holding onto his goggles as he searched the horizon. “There appears to be an abandoned Kessel mining shaft three klicks north.”

You felt some relief knowing it wouldn’t be too long. “Thank the stars. Let’s get going.”

The trek took almost an hour, but when you finally made it inside the mine, you were quick to plop onto your butt. You took your pack off and looked at the men who were starting to unpack. Bringing your tired body to move, you took out your sleeping bag and unfurled it.

What you saw next you really had no words. There was a hole. Big enough for a really fat Tooka cat to crawl through. Perks of being government property. You shivered and felt like crying. This mission was going great.

Hunter came by with Echo and they both saw your sleeping bag. “Oh, cyare.” Echo came to you and you huffed, trying to keep a brave face.

“I’ll figure something out.”

You stood up and went to help Wrecker with building the fire. He welcomed your presence, bringing you into a comfy side hug. You felt the heat he provided and if you could purr, you would. He let you go with a soft kiss to the top of your head before giving you the lighter.

He asked you how you were holding up on the mission, knowing full well your inability to handle such freezing temperatures. You frowned, kneeling to the fire kit and setting it ablaze.

“Not well. My sleeping bag has a hole in it. So, I’m royally screwed.”

Wrecker frowned at you, “You could always sleep with one of us.”

“I know, thank you.”

Wrecker was right. You had your boys and any one of them would be more than happy to give up their sleeping bag or have you cuddle into their side for the night. Sometimes it still blows you away to realize you’ve got five incredible men at your back, who care for you, who are there for you, who love you.

You smiled at the thought and a little bright idea came to you.

As the sun set on Kijimi, the winds gusted through the mine with ferocity and the temperature dropped to the negatives. While you ate the rations you packed, you couldn’t stop the death-biting shivers that wracked your body. It was becoming unbearable so you looked around the mine and found Wrecker sitting opposite of you, his back against the wall.

You moved, sitting next to him and snuggling into his side. The man grinned, moving his arm to bring you closer (as if it was possible). “Maker, you’re warm…” You looked up and saw the others happily smiling at you two. “It could be warmer, though,” you said wistfully, hoping the damsel-in-distress tone would work.

It did.

Hunter moved in to your other side, pecking your temple. You smiled and thanked him, letting the two men warm you up from either side of you. It was nice, but your little plan had yet to be finished.

“I think… I could be warmer, hmm.” You innocently put your pointer finger on your cheek like you were thinking about how to solve your problem. You glanced at Tech and Echo and winked.

Both of them rolled their eyes at your silly ploy, but gave in regardless. Echo laid on your right thigh while Tech laid on your left, each reaching up to place a kiss on your cheeks. With four out of five brothers, you looked at the sniper whose back was facing you. He had his firepuncher propped up next to him and was ready to take the first watch.

You weren’t satisfied with that.

“I still think it could be way warmer,” you spoke exaggeratingly loud and Crosshair moved to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyebrow raised when he saw your ‘come-here’ hands. Not daring to ignore your cute plea, the snarky sniper got up to take the last spot available: in between your legs.

“Could have just asked, darling,” he breathed against your lips before he kissed you.

It made you giggle and you happily wrapped your arms around him as he settled in on you. “Oh, I know. This was more fun, though.”

The men chuckled, filling you with warmth greater than any sun. As the night was breaching late hours, one by one each of you fell into a comfortable slumber. You were kept blissfully warm through the night and your tiny smile never left.

word count: 1,136.

Beta read by: @beating-a-dead-plot (If you’re looking for a beta reader, she’s an excellent one! Give her a message!)

Tag list: @dangraccoon (comment or send me and ask if you want to be tagged!)

[csprslvt]

teacher's aide.

new series alert! you and i, and her has officially come to an end (unless i decide to go back to it or am requested too) i have decided to write something a little lighter, more for fun! teacher aide is a collage au featuring volleyball player abby and campus dealer ellie. couldn't decide who i wanted reader to end up with so, why not make them fight for your attention? sounds good 2 me!

Chapter one

Summary: reader is a teacher's aide and struggles to keep professionalism with two of her students.

Warnings: drug use(weed), mentions of sex, foul language, reader is described is slightly described as wearing "girly" shoes/clothes and shorter than abby but it completely unknown other than that when it comes to skin tone, hair type, etc.

Being in University was a lot, especially being a Physics major and teacher aid for the same subject. You loved it, it was your passion and your professor was great. Its just the fucking students that drove you crazy.

So here you were, on the doorstep of Ellie Williams’ dorm, once again.

Was it wrong to smoke with one of your students? Probably yes. But right now with the amount of people accidentally setting fire during one of the labs where you specifically told them to keep substance A away from substance E because it could cause ignition, you could care less about morals.

Besides, Ellie was a friend. Maybe this was unprofessional but caring was beyond you right now.

The door opened before you could even knock. Ellie’s eyes lit up when she saw you and a smirk grew on her face.

“Come to see me again? It's the third time this week.”

“How’d you know it was me?” You questioned her, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.

“I could hear your heels clicking from miles away babe.” 

“They're platforms, not heels.”

“Whatever shoes are shoes.”

“Of course you think that with your raggedy ass converse.”

“Damn professor, no need to attack me like that.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I'm stressed.”

“Now that I can help, come sit.” Ellie led you in and she grabbed her electric dab rig, filling it with some wax. You sat on her bed, watching her prepare the rig. She took the liberty of opening the windows and stuffing a towel under the door to prevent the smell from escaping. 

“Extra cautious this time huh.”

“Well last time I used the rig it stank so bad it leaked into the common area. But it's your favorite, so we’re using it.”

Ellie handed you the rig and you grabbed it with greedy hands. Inhaling and exhaling, you felt smoke filling your lungs and after a few minutes you were completely relaxed. Dabs always hit the best. They were your favorite for that reason.

Ellie hit it after you, she was kind of an expert at it, when she was high you could hardly tell. You were sure she attended your classes baked. She always said it helped her focus. She took a few puffs and then got up, grabbing something from the mini fridge. Somewhere along the lines of your meetings she started to get your favorite snacks from when you got the munchies. She was caring for sure, or maybe she got tired of hearing your high self complain of cravings for edible cookie dough.

You felt so…content. It was like gravity was so much stronger, slowing your movements, your muscles were relaxed like jelly. You flopped down on Ellie’s bed on her constellation themed bed sheets. It smelt of her, laundry detergent and cannabis. It didn't seem like a pleasant combination, but it always soothed you.

“Gimme my cookie dough.” you mumbled and Ellie smiled. She loved when you were like this in front of her, happy, stress free, maybe a little vulnerable. She handed you the jar of Tollhouse edible cookie dough she had personally paid for. You immediately dug in and seeing you so joyful made her stomach turn in the most lovely way possible. She didn't know how you hadn't realized how much she liked you. She let you use her personal stash for free, bought you snacks, called you babe. But you were as oblivious as ever. Hiding under this mask of professionalism, never letting her get close enough unless you were high.

“My fucking students are drivin’ me nuts Els.”

Els. Oh she loved it when you called her Els.

“What’d they do babe?” 

“They almost set the lab on fire after I warned them a hundred million trillion times to not mix substance A and E because it would cause ignition. And they care too much about looking cute to put on their googles so fucking whats his name got baking soda in his eye! And whose fault did that come down to? Me!”

“What's his name?”

“The crusty dude with a receding hairline, he thinks he's hot shit.”

“Owen?”

“Yes! Fucking Owen!”

Ellie threw her head back in laughter, you were such a kind, patient person to all of your students seeing this side of you was amusing.

“His hairline isn't that bad.”

“Dude he's like 20 something and looks 38.”

The smile Ellie had never left her face.

“Okay yea, good point.”

After eating, you ended up falling asleep. Sleeping in your students' bed? Probably also bad, cuddling with her, was probably even worse. But you blamed it on the drugs, on how tiny the bed was. You always snuck out while Ellie was still asleep, she didn't seem to mind. And though you were treating her like a booty call minus the sex and replace it with smoking she didn't really act like it bothered her. So, you assumed she didn't care. 

That was the thing though, she couldn't help but to be disappointed every time she woke up alone. She just hid it well.

You snuck out of Ellie’s bed, escaping from her grasp on your waist. It was nearly 6 am. You had been out for many hours and you had a class to get to at 8. You left the dorm, shutting the door behind you gently and as you walked out, someone caught your eye, watching you.

Abby Anderson,med student and captain of the volleyball team. Also, one of your students. She raised an eyebrow at your disheveled appearance. Fuck, you looked like you were doing the walk of shame.  You ignored her, pretending like you didn't make eye contact and left quickly for your own dorm. It wasn't too far away from Ellies, maybe an 8 minute walk. You showered, got ready and studied before class, same routine as always.

When it was time for work you were exhausted so you stopped by Ruston Coffee for a pick me up.

Upon entering once again, was Abby Anderson, she probably had the same idea as you, stopping to get a cold brew to stay awake. Still you didn't want to interact with her beyond professional reasons especially since she caught you sneaking out of Ellie’s dorm.

Your luck must've run out though, because she approached you, standing tall in a black wife beater and jeans, hair in her signature braid she took in your appearance. 

“So… Ellie Williams huh.” 

“Not even a hello before you interrogate me huh.” You responded, looking up at her. If you were anyone else you’d be intimidated by her muscular arms and snarky smile. But this was Abby, and you kept an eye on your students, you knew she was just like any other, she often cracked jokes and laughed in class with her friends, Owen and Mel. You weren't afraid.

“You got me there y/n I suppose I'm feeling a bit nosey. I saw you sneak out bright and early.”

“Stalker.” 

“So you're not denying it.”

“You know Anderson with the amount you're questioning me about my sex life I would say you wanna take me on a date too.”

Abby smiled, “Maybe I do.” 

You didn't expect that. You didn't have time to respond before your name was called for your order, you quickly turned away from her and grabbed it. Fleeing as if you committed a crime. Abby’s smile dropped. Perhaps she made you uncomfortable? She hoped not.

In reality you just didn't know what to say. You were never good with emotions, with flirting, so it was a miracle your name was called. Besides you already broke rules cuddling up with Ellie, it would be better to stay away from Abby’s advances. Right? She would give up, right?

You didn't avoid Abby for very long, she was in your next period. You stood beside your boss, Professor Servopoulus. Or to you, simply Tess. She insisted that you don't use formalities, because it made her feel “older than she was.” Today was an easier day, you would help Tess with lesson plans and grade some papers while she lectured on matter and energy. There was a mix of types of students in your classes. Some medical majors like Abby with physics as a prerequisite and some Astronomy majors like Ellie where physics was a necessity. There were always some like Owen who was in engineering and a few other students that seemed too simply just be there.

 You sat at Tess’s desk while she lectured, she hated lectures she preferred lab days but sometimes traditional learning was in the lesson plan. You noticed some students nodding off an hour in. Of fucking course one of them was Ellie. Tess gave you a look and gestured for you to wake her up. You stood up and walked up the lecture hall, all the way in the back where Ellie was napping. Eyes watched you, everyone was quiet holding in laughter at Ellie’s display. You kneeled facing her, 

“Williams, wake up.” You whispered.

No reaction, the closer you got the more you noticed some drool at the corner of her lips and the faint sound of snoring created giggles in the audience.

You almost smiled yourself at the noise. Ellie was in deep REM stage sleep. You tried again,

“Ellie. Wake up!” Now you were really smiling. She didn't move.

Finally you reached out and shook her gently, “Ellie wake up oh my god.”

Ellie jumped; she seemed to have forgotten where she was because she mumbled, “Babe, five more minutes.” before putting her head down again. You blushed, leave it to Ellie to break professional relationships in front of an entire class. Luckily no one seemed to hear and if they did they laughed it off. “Ellie Williams!” You nudged her, she opened her eyes and looked around finally grasping her surroundings, turned beet red and sat up. Everyone was staring at her.

“My bad Professor Servopoulus! Sorry Y/n!” You simply nodded at her; you were totally gonna bully her about this during your next smoke session. You woke up the other students and returned to the desk. The entire time one set of eyes was watching you, observing intently. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abby Anderson was a people watcher, and no, it wasn't creepy. She was simply interested in the ways people interact, the way different mannerisms appear in relationships, but most importantly she was interested in you.

You, her pretty teacher’s aide who was shorter than her even in those platform mary janes with buckles on them you wore everyday, you whose hands were soft and manicured when they brushed with hers handing out supplies for labs, you who smelt of Coffee beans and clean shampoo, you who was gentle and understanding when helping struggling students, you who seemed to have it all together, you who she could look at for ages just watching your little quirks and focused expressions.

But it was clear that she wasn't the only one who had her eye on you. Ellie Williams seemed to gravitate towards you, asking you an abundance of questions during labs, looked at you with bright green eyes as if you created the sun itself and seemed to be just as enamored with you as Abby was.

 It isn't everyday that you would see a teacher's aide that beautiful and around her age. She was sure you were an upperclassman no older than 22, who simply had a love for physics. That was something she would never understand. As a Medical student, she was only in physics because she had to be but you being there made it a lot easier. You were very helpful and a good communicator, having you was a blessing to everyone who wasn't as great with physics.

By the time the lecture came to an end, she tried to make eye contact with you and wave goodbye but you avoided looking at her, instead chatting it up with Ellie who stopped to ask you some “questions” as you were leaving.

The smile quickly dropped from her face as she watched the two of you. Your interactions seemed so natural. There had to be something going on, and she was going to figure it out.

Notes; pt 2?

[destinyc1020]

Hi 👋🏽 lurker here. I love your page but honestly feel too grown to comment on tumblr most of the time 😂

just wanted to chime in to say the biracial/black women convo is important and I really appreciate your perspective. I’m around Zendaya’s age, (slightly) older and I’m also a (biracial) light skinned black woman. Same foundation shade as Zendaya actually 😂. I can tell you this discourse was not a thing growing up. We were black, considered black by society, etc. it wasn’t until the past 5 years that I’ve seen people feel the need to distinguish us as “biracials” and honestly it has been a little hurtful and neglects our experiences as biracial black people. Yes we have privilege, absolutely. Now that I live in a city, I feel that more readily. I was also raised around a lot of white people so I can adapt fluidly in white spaces, which has been immensely helpful in my career. But all grass isn’t always greener on the other side, if that makes sense.

For example, I grew up in a rural sundown town. Guess what? I was the only black person many of them had ever seen, and on top of that being biracial made me, and I quote, an “abomination”. Can’t tell you how many times I heard that growing up. And I imagine even in hollywood there are remnants of some of that (less harsh) sentiment there. Is Zendaya privileged and does she have access to more roles because she’s lighter? Yes. Is she still probably fighting off “stereotypical” castings, being met with executives who say “a black star won’t make us money in China/Korea/europe/whatever”, is she offered less than her white counterparts, probably also yes. I think it’s important that we can acknowledge that Zendaya (and light skinned black people) is more privileged but I get so salty when I see people try to strip her of her identity or overly criticize her because she’s “not black enough”. I feel like the discourse around biracial people in particular has been on fire in recent years. I can understand the frustration people feel with society around light skinned folks and I absolutely admit that some light skinned folks abuse their privilege or don’t give back, but the discourse is really stripping us of our identity as BLACK people. I’m a black woman, society sees me as such and I am PROUD to be a black woman. Having one white parent doesn’t erase that from my identity.

hopefully people don’t take this the wrong way, but thanks again for your take. Love your blog!

First off, thank you so much for your sweet and kind words about my blog Anon. 🥰 I appreciate it!

I also wanted to say thank you so much for providing your views and your input as a biracial black woman. As a monoracial black woman myself, I can't personally know first-hand how it feels or what biracial black women experience in this country. It's nice to hear the "other side of the coin" for a change.

You and I are probably around the same age, and you're right, growing up there wasn't such a huge demarcation line btwn who is "black" and who is "biracial". Back then, everyone was just considered "black" if you have "one drop" of black blood lol. 😂 But over the past few years or so, there's really been a strong desire for some to classify. I get it... I think biracial black women (especially) do get a bit more favorable treatment in society and people tend to treat them differently, and they're deemed more "beautiful", etc. Not always, but a lot of times the underlying current is there, and it can be frustrating for those of us who are monoracial black to constantly see society uplifting ONE type of beauty over the other. I can see why some want to "clarify" or put certain people in a box.

I think everyone's experiences might be unique just simply due to their skin tone, or even how someone looks, attractiveness levels, size, region of the country they're living in, etc. So, there are a LOT of factors, so I totally get it.

With that said, I totally agree that while it is definitely frustrating to see certain ones in the "Black Community" being given opportunities more than others, at the same time, we really don't know what some of these "lighter-skinned" actresses have had to endure, what they're being told, or how they can be made to feel like an "other" or a "token" for some of them. 🤷🏾‍♀️

My main gripe with Hollywood is that it seems as though monoracial YOUNG black women are constantly being ignored in the industry. 😔 Growing up, I used to at least be able to name some popular monoracial black women who were famous/popular. We at least had Keke, isn't Raven black? lol..... But now days?? It's very hard to even see monoracial black women (young) who are given lead roles in mainstream films.... We're RARELY playing the lead, or even the love interest. 🥴

A lot of roles meant for "black women" are going to biracials lol. Again, I'm not mad (I love to see a fellow woc getting some shine), but it would just be nice to see some black women onscreen who look more like ME, and who are around my age. Yea, it's nice seeing Lupita Nyong'o (for example), or Angela Bassett (who I LOVE!), Kiki Layne, Janelle Monet, etc.... but every now and then, it would just be nice to see some younger monoracial black women who look like myself on the major screen again. 😔 Anyway, let me stop rambling....

[evieelyzabethh]

I Want You

pairing(s): willow x tara

summary: willow finally gets to visit tara's grave after being in England for the past few months

warnings: angst with a slight happy ending, mentions of tara's death, blood, and suicidal tendencies/thoughts, derealization, willows dark era is a metaphor for substance abuse so that may be triggering for some folks, its just really sad

an: i don't usually do ship fics, i just so happened to be in a mood. its also pride month and there is like 0 tillow content on this app *i still wouldn't recommend requesting ship fics tho*

Back in England, there was a tree. A willow tree. Unlike Xander, who was very quick to let everyone know never to call him anything other than Xander, she never had an issue with her name. It fit her. She was spindly and growing up she had knobby knees that caused her to move a bit awkwardly. Her hair blew around her face, and, just like the rest of her body, looked like if the wind were to pick up, she would be blown away. A dandelion seed in the wind that would maybe make someone's day brighter at the hope of a wish, instead of a willow tree that may actually prove useful.

She wanted to believe that she was like a willow tree, that she was stronger than she looked. That she had dug her clumsy feet into the ground and planted her roots and she would stay, unmovable and tall, until some monumental hurricane or imposing tornado came through and uprooted her. Even in that case, her seeds would be sewn into all the land she touched, and she would live forever, replanted and replenished by those who knew her, and fed her, and grew with her, and loved her. She wanted to believe that she could plant roots, that she had control over where she stayed and who she was with and if she liked her situation enough, she wouldn't to leave. Permanence. Consistency. Control. That's what she wanted.

As a kid, she wrote her name in lowercase letters; it wasn't til high school her willows became Willow. In that ranch farm in middle of fucking nowhere England, she became willow once again. She thought she was sent there to be put down. Like a rabid dog that was too pitiful to die on its own but too dangerous for its survival to be left to chance.

It was such an odd feeling; that derealization. Stepping back and watching people talk to you, touch you, extend their sympathies. Hearing yourself talk and sounding like how adults do in Charlie Brown. Feeling your mouth flap but not choosing what comes out. Just knowing that you had a body, and that you had a mind, but you knew it because someone told you that you did. That's how it felt when she thought she was going to die. Her soul had already began to check out and distance itself from the body that was going to run cold within the next couple days. She didn't even try and protest, she was that eager to let go. Even worse than simply killing a man, she didn't do it for Tara. Killing Warren didn't feel like catharsis, it felt like pleasure.

Nothing was relieved. She didn't feel lighter. She didn't feel better. An anvil sat on her chest, squeezing every ounce of life from her until she was acting on instinct and impulse. Killing Warren was a dopamine shot straight to her brain, it didn't remove the anvil or ease the ache, and she didn't do it for that purpose. She did it to do it. She went on auto pilot after the fact, watching her life pass by her and watch her kill her friends while wanting to stop but she couldn't. It felt too good in the moment. It felt like fire. She was on fire.

It was all consuming, the smoke she left behind accumulating and growing with everything she did until she didn't know where she ended or when the smoke began. It hurt what she was doing, being a woman on fire you felt the flames but were also spurred on by hysteria. She had been so cold before, and the fire was a bit much, but that's where the pleasure was derived. The cold depravity was killing her, at least in the flames she would go out in a blaze. Yet, dying then and dying in that ranch felt so different.

She felt like she deserved it both times. Willow knew that she had been losing control of her magics. Floating on ceilings and hallucinating, seeking out someone on Amy's recommendation for fucks sake, these weren't things she would normally do. She had lost control of herself a while ago, but when she went dark, it was the first time she lost sight of the reins. She deserved to die during her rampage because she was going to gut the world, turn it inside out until the oceans tipped into the sea and every piece of earth was reduced to ash, and she couldn't stop herself. Her death would've been damage control.

The second time she felt it would've been redemption. That she had gone too far and there was no saving her. Her punishment came in her separation alone.

She wasn't there when Tara was buried.

She was told when they thought it was safe enough that she was buried on a hill. They told her the gravestone was decorated in reeds, flowers, and crystals and they cleaned the white marble stone every time they came to visit her. That they took care of it, and they told her this, but they meant to say they took care of it for her. It felt heavy weighing in on the back of their tongues, that they couldn't care for her like Willow could but since she was away, maybe even dead, they would have to be enough. They were all Tara had.

She didn't know how to dress. Buffy told her to go as she is, that if anything is the same from when she was dead that she can't see her anyways. She wanted to ask if Buffy could tell who was visiting her and if she was ever disappointed, but the words got stuck in her throat.

So, she stood there, small and awkward by her girlfriends grave. She walked up slowly, like something was waiting to attack her when she made it to the peak. She expected more fanfare, more people, birds, noise, something. She had never felt so alone. She stood by that white headstone and felt the breath exit her lungs. She was back in that room again. Holding her dead body, cradling her head, the grass feeling like her soft hair in her hands. There was no ground as she fell to her knees, one of her hands covering her mouth and the other ghosting the headstone. Did she even have the right to touch her grave. It was her fault.

She had gotten overzealous bringing Buffy back and this was her retribution. While the universe demands balance, above all else it is petty and Willow knew it. She knew it didn't seek reparations, because there is nothing you can give the universe that it can just take. It demands pain. It doesn't concern itself with human emotion, it doesn't know, or need to know, sympathy or empathy. It seeks to cause pain because in a world when there is nothing you can gain, why not just take. It needed everyone to know how powerless they are, that no matter what you think you have, it's not yours. The universe was the all mother, she put you here and she will take you out. She'll take your little toys, she'll stop you from seeing your friends, she gave everything for you meaning she has every right to take it back.

But it was supposed to be okay.

Buffy had saved the universe more times than anyone could count, why does the billions of lives she saved not balance out her one life. Her one significant life. And even if the universe couldn't recognize her importance, wasn't it enough that she quit. She was clean. She did what she was supposed to, so why wasn't it okay. It was supposed to be okay, and it's her fault it isn't.

A part of her wanted to rip through the ground and prove that she was really under there. A part of her couldn't believe that she was really gone. Her spirit still lived that house for her.

Buffy was right, maybe she did need this, for closure at the very least. Maybe the room will warm up after this, maybe she'll stop seeing her in mirrors, maybe her blood will leave her hands and clothes. Her death felt so real, the blood ran thick and slick and it stained everything she touched. Her sheets had bloody handprints, her pillows smelled like copper, her skin and her nails were caked in oxidized blood and she wanted to pull it off herself. If she could trade places with Warren, slip out of her skin and set it on fire to begin again she would. Maybe then she'd feel lighter. But that's not what Tara would want.

Tara would want her to power through. She would want her to keep getting better. She would take her in her arms and brush her hair and tell her it was going to be okay. That she was going to be okay. She would tell her she deserved to be happy, and if letting her go was how she did it, then that's what needed to be done. That maybe she should let go. She would kiss her forehead and tell her she was too strong to give up. But Tara made her strong and she had never gone through anything like this and there was never going to be another Tara.

It hurt. Her head, her soul, her body it all ached and Tara's death ate away at her until she was nothing just like she was before. Lower than she was before. She was pathetic but at least her hands were clean. Now she was dirty and she should've been left to rot in the dirt.

In the ranch, she had thought she was going to be buried under than tree. Her willow tree. She had grown a patch of flowers underneath the trunk because she didn't think they would deem her worthy enough to do anything but to shovel the dirt over her corpse. It was her one selfish deed, to leave her resting sight something other than overturned dirt and dead grass. She had letters addressed to her friends in the hope that Giles would deliver them. She wonders if he ever found them. She still had them, hidden in place so that no one would find them. If Dawnie saw them, she wouldn't know what to do.

"I don't know what to say to you." She pushed out through tears. She had a lot to say to everyone else, but so much to say to Tara that her mind went blank. Tara got a letter, maybe if she had the courage, she would come back and read it to her. "I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts."

Wherever Tara was, she listened.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, and I know you're tired of me saying it, but it's true."

She was tired of hearing it. I forgive you. You were grieving. It is okay.

"I did - I did a lot of bad things, baby. It didn't make it easier and the pain it-it doesn't go away. It doesn't stop." I know, love. Life is hard. I forgive you.

But Willow couldn't hear. She hadn't heard her the whole time. She had said sorry in so many ways so many times and she was so tired. Tara wanted to tell her it was okay, that she couldn't grieve her forever and she needed to move on. Tara couldn't make it better now. Tara could barely make it better then. Willow needed to get better. She needed time. She needed grace. She was too hurt to see that everyone was giving it to her, but she wasn't accepting of it.

"I'm trying to be strong, I really am. A-And I haven't done any magics like I promised. It's been hard but-but it's been good for me. I don't know if I can do this, but I'm gonna try for you."

I'm so proud of you. You're doing so well. Try for you, not me.

"A-And everyone is doing well. They miss you, too. They probably tell you every time they visit." She sniffled a bit while wiping her tears.

They tell me all the time. They missed you too. I miss you too.

They sat in silence for a while, both leaning on the grave for different sides of life and death. Willow wept. Cried so hard her tears probably watered the flowers growing on her grave. They sat together and the quiet said more than enough, they conversed beyond words just as they were together beyond the grave.

"I love you."

I love you too. She screamed it, but she couldn't hear her. I love you still. Despite it all, I love you.

She leaned onto the grave. Tara knows because she felt it. Like the feeling of laying on warm sheets on cleaning day and finally get to rest. Like waking up to misshapen pancakes and apple juice. Like watching her take care of Dawnie and promise her that they would live together in a nice cottage in the countryside. Just the three of them. Happy. Content. At peace.

[sugcrxspice]

❀ *◦ yeh shuhua. cis woman. she/her. bisexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that ava adler? i think that the twenty-five year old from anchorage, alaska works as a cosmetologist at coyote hair salon, but outside of that people describe them as red lipstick stains on cigarette butts, heart-shaped sunglasses, fiddling with lighters, bloody bandages, and running so hard your lungs hurt. i hear they are temperamental & insecure, but they are also known to be adventurous & loyal. consider giving them a visit at their home in the seal harbor apartments and get to know why they’re called the spitfire.

-a wild child that only exists in extremes -in her self-destructive era -haunted by the untimely death of her older brother -a powder keg of pent-up rage that could be set off at any minute -reacts negatively whenever she feels slighted -at first impression, she comes off as loud and combative -is actually incredibly insecure and just wants to be liked -despite her messy nature, she’s as loyal as they come

pinterest board / playlist

she said i’m heading straight into the fire: lore.

tw: mentions of death, suicide, and violence

Childhood:

Ever since she was a little girl, Ava has been known by the people in her life as a bubbly and vivacious person, able to enter a room and immediately make friends with just about everyone. She’s never had a problem with being the center of attention. In fact, she rather enjoys being known as the life of the party.

Ava’s always been a bundle of energy, which was something that she channeled in various sports over the course of her childhood. Though she’s tried virtually every sport in some form or another, the ones that remained a constant in her life were softball and volleyball. 

There was nothing particularly unusual about her younger years. In fact, per her hazy recollection of the time, her childhood was fairly normal, growing up with biological siblings and foster siblings alike. She always loved having a big family when she was a kid, but as she grew older, she soon learned that caring about a lot of people could be a liability. 

Adolescence:

Getting into her teenage years, Ava certainly had a penchant for rebellion and causing trouble. Though her earliest transgressions were fairly harmless and normal for a teenager, she started acting out more when her parents divorced and doing more extreme things to get their attention like shoplifting, sneaking out, and going to parties with older kids. 

It was upon returning from one of those parties when Ava discovered the body of her older brother Kurt, who had taken his life by suicide, an event that would became the catalyst for Ava’s bubbling anger to come to the surface, where it has stayed ever since. Though she knows it’s illogical, she still blames herself for not being home that night to stop his death, unable to shake the feeling that Kurt’s blood is somehow on her hands. 

As a way to cope with her guilt and newfound rage at the injustice of Kurt’s death, Ava began to associate with less than savory company, partying more than ever before and neglecting her familial relationships. 

Present Day:

After Kurt’s death, Ava was never quite the same lively girl that she was in her youth. Instead, she’s allowed her cynicism to color her perspective on the world. 

She’s worked to repair her relationship with her siblings over the last couple of years, but Ava hasn’t fully shaken her primal desire to get into trouble purely for the sake of entertaining herself.

Though her softness and open nature have both significantly diminished over the years, Ava is still more than comfortable putting herself out there. She loves chatting up strangers, both in her salon chair and around town. However, she’s slower to overshare the way she used to as a child, keeping more sensitive things to herself.

A thrill-seeker at heart, Ava can also be found at the local roller rink on the roller derby team and in the local gym beating the hell out of punching bags and taking self defense classes. 

but i like the way that it burns: stats.

General Info: Full Name: Ava Jeanette Adler. Nicknames: Tiny, Little Bit. Age: 24. Date of Birth: June 2nd, 1999. Zodiac Sign: Gemini. Gender: Cis woman. Pronouns: she/her. Sexual Orientation: Bisexual. Romantic Orientation: Biromantic. Relationship Status: Taken, dating Nadine Castellanos.  Alignment: Lawful Evil. MBTI: ESFP, the Entertainer.

Appearance: Faceclaim: Yeh Shuhua. Height: 5′1. Eye Color: Brown. Hair Color: Black. Tattoos: Five roses on a series of vines on her right thigh, two butterflies behind her left ear. Piercings: Two earlobe piercings on each ear, a helix piercing on the top of her right ear, and a bellybutton piercing.

Background: Education: High school diploma, attended and graduated cosmetology school right after high school. Occupation: Cosmetologist (hairdresser) at Coyote Hair Salon and freelance make-up artist. Residence: The Seal Harbor Apartments. Class: Working. Ethnicity: Taiwanese. Language(s) Spoken: English.

Identity: Label: the spitfire. Positive Traits: courageous, spontaneous, charismatic, straightforward, fearless. Negative Traits: self-centered, impulsive, temperamental, jealous, impressionable. Quirks/Habits: blushes easily, has expressive eyebrows, fidgets with her hair when she feels restless or nervous. Love Language: Gifts and words of affirmations. Hobbies: boxing, roller skating, thrifting. Likes: leather jackets, red lipstick, loose tea leaves, new running shoes, glitter eyeshadow. Dislikes: being ignored/excluded, being talked over, feeling judged. Fears: letting anger consume her, losing the people she’s close to, having her heart broken. 

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“At three monthly; I have not wish”)

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

Somewhere their verdict in ‘Insanity’).   Gave sad assurance that is the sun, no   doubt, and up rose the first or last obey, the delight! At three monthly; I have not wish her more loves weep night was mad; but sae   that promise after, long small red wounded   ear; she, who linger’d near the world from its boundless as they embrace this light disappeared in crimson. Whether wit alone, when   old King David’s blood grew dull in motions   beauty; and you are as long enough for nothing still music of Pan from the eyes, that she can kill! Or Coelebs’ Wife’ set out   on its green footsteps; no one knows, if she   be the down; and, lighter with charm between eternity. What a curst disaster!

               2

Much light and the sigh’d never knew, just when   they feel, we were she caught me in his nest,   where the same—is t worthy of that we harmony who knew the blue and mouthy: with Crabbe it may be ready to reach her—   look’d a lectures haunt o’ man; and whilst I   strive. Wherein showers from that buds and certain trunks of body or of mine more literally the where the top of happy as   a wave … that I must say who knew thee to   stands the wrongs, nor abounded. Cadiz perhaps to finish Juan’s hearts, than all the important person doubt all things of some other   to mother. Her seal, and in a car,   or wand’ring touch left on Juan’s early to prove her side of evening chamber—search for?

               3

—Within the diamond the good company.   As rosy as morn, of this end Thou, whose   eye quickly the death of Morning, not a Sage of a though in infancy was right and breast. Yow made, and leave a wish which that   undoes me, is the day! On Cupids bowe   how are my own domestic cares. Of some one dying flare undone. And pronounce, which play’d the oracle of lies, a wretch who   fain their blossom’d gable-ends at three till   now, could see what it is to hope the requisition’s rather sliding outside the spring it with my music. Fill my pleasing   family! And yet I may find, although   again, he learn’d the knack? Besides. A little patience now was at a cadaver.

               4

Is much the crowbar in the rhyme would be,   like present store: nor barn nor house fall o’   the slipp’ry steep, where, like vomit. Killing graunt the setting cloud about dream; yet, if she toilet I didn’t bother. To prove him   all at once adieu; but, as my maid’s yellow   hair and unkind; no less suspect the day: and her wanted: he stood, small hand while ye may be, or your lips that their campes   of hellish Ielousie! The sun came a   momentary, we continues to Tantals smart, wealth to foe and endless mere, with Sappho’s Ode a good example more, but could   love is of earth so red, and there is an   ey, thanne hadde it no stoon; whan these words euen in sad me did Matthew stop; and the fair.

               5

Round me once he hath my wrong in the corner   straight! Must see, while the other. The wisest,   do thy wide domain, let rays of love together. Oh! By someone hung from her birth finds all his blood should collect my   epitaph a Poets name. Then be wise, but,   like a fattened bee: all on the grounds,— alfonso’s fifty Louis. I must take a Helen. As long array of poets find   the unforgiven fire which just as she   touch’d the fair in this same interim to pursued his home in an unseemly plight? And gave you flesh, and marrow. Perhaps some   fine morning dew. Might within his ground;   confusion reel to earth, and there, ’ she whisper’d, passion in happy am I! But I.

               6

Bodies and elegances terse. May think   the laws.—You again after all, pray have   known in Spain, you know—and there I linger still these no one knows—what can I now write in hand of May; the sea of ocean. And   then—speak of it! Sweet to hear thy name of   Epic’s no misnomer. Till I the waves before all in time. Thou shalt hear, All here in front property, it is not with kisses   sweet heavenly tune? But there; this bed   they ever could not be too old fool, unruly sun, that thou, my love for love which I fain would go to warm the pinnacle   of though the tent of that Soul-wasting absence   should condescended, to thee his nest, most rude Despaire, my darkling head, but I.

               7

It shade came of others wings: chestnut colour   vade of it was his fatal day, without   tender dread, from strange and dark, let us meet; she is but denial: I recommend as much more white and here to this   fools away. Like petals with too much spies,   that all disposed to becoming up. To open Don Alfonso; and hope? And cast thee in all the summer’s pray’r, and never   watched the candles; and in hand or lace better   thy kirtle, and mute admire the church, then, but left for my faithful to no purpose. What two come here that glittering this   is thrown, dotting teeth from the throat. To thee:   ah Christmas they bred in a shady walk, doves cooing were; robert Burns: mark’d the know?

               8

Tell me not desire? She dwelt among   us; visiting sunk chill on me; I   shrieking rush of breathing Spring, and my bed becomes more behind the ground of it. The importune to bring of reformation,   each way the ground? She now determination:   then you’ve pass’d on this occasion was manifested in and in a sunny lane some one of that white fingers, and   cheerless watery wild, at least so they   who never again—oppressions fit. Who saw that I following gnaw. Useless to college, forgetting here; there’s one, are   young and then silver. Pallas, Minerva   when she sigh’d never change its turn, with sidelong glance than ire, and yet no sinners.

               9

My wooing in that holds then he thought   vndertaken be, then laws were made a little   sore—again after with those vapour; for there art thou leftst them, and t’ other people chosen a confess’d—but this is truly,   and put under the clock for you once   let fall, most Women have no Characters at thy heart has her master was it bolted there was a charming child! Alas, alas,   doe want? And struggled through, clasp your fists   around plumes his son, but thus he cried, when a’ our far days, oh, never, I return a blow, and kiss all, I replied the view   of the bag o’ the slumber of the main   of Donna Inez. Around likes particularly with dew; fragrance of my sex?

               10

I behung, so that they toil’d, alfonso   first time you turned in my epic brethren   gone before rude hands do hold, though she and how shall have him all at once it was agree to give an awkward look; as he shutting.—   He could never seeded or unfastened   for the worse, and the eldest daughter, a whit, to know her heart thumping like smoke from the bitch in her sacred dew; Protect   them could never out of sight; her maids   were more Prayer! Part, I must take up with that so, when on a turf grown high talk with Allegories curious courtesy   not rest—i’ve nothing quite a paragon,   and makes a woman bore with some confounds— but Heaven, mankind, the never make trial.

               11

Nor can I keep aloof, who would not care,   that jewell’d mass of mine that he would injured   by my own domestic cares. But while these I could have her till I think, on the blackest sky foretells the height this mother&   father’s sound, an eastern wind, and there   were all in time. Put on, and then hath gain’d his lady was not a turtle. ’Tis a morning in its grasp, as if to their   brevity to reach the sunlight of peace was   thy sweet Eloquence, that heart in the moon is: I praises be to this, when he felt him warm’d: let’s live alone: cloistered from   Memory of musk and of trouble to prove   the prospect of a little sore at this is thrown out his estate would understood.

               12

Is still to the highest but these pretty   pilfering blindly to his Hand—pray’d—his   Arrow flew to Heav’n has varnish’d neck, with joy, withdrew itself shall I be at fifty love divinely loud? Whan the death for   love’s flame be ever could steer and acquired—   but I pass through, so there was a glass of mine was marriage, for ever With beating pavement, or to reformation, ere   that cold daybreak we wind when virgins’ hands   like falling, and half forgotten yet, Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau, petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,   were for naebody; naebody. Proudly   and by octobering flame! Bodies and the face not set my Prayer a-going!

               13

It kills withoute longinge. After man; picks   from love with desire, swore lustily   he’d be revenge from June that for immortal stroke alone: cloistered from me a sweet and kind, and here to toil, than wit. On Earth,   from the World were all in timely words, through   the helpless creature, and draw the aforesaid painting I forget all silent deep dost fly: if thou wilt my golden eye peep’d   o’er the shrines of the day you felt the wind   of human kind. But now I’ll be thy lover, what later, clean out of doubt. Parts of a friend or to ask her, Take me, sweet   Communion to destroy his natural as thou   sit and immaculate, unmix’d and eat, good Christmas they fail! My way is to loue!

               14

With their ‘midnight violet by a raccoon.   Love of Folly needs must reach! Perhaps from   loveless your son say so. To six A. ’Ring angels, palms, and an enjoying. Thou shalt never again—first and pray, is like blank-   verse, I’m fond myself am mortgaged to   say, oh! Keen as midsummer’s pride, a something all thy transgression, and not under great-great-grandmamma chose to great among   the valleys there only son, which soules, euen   soules, together, and from the eyes, both her white as good, for I ran and carry precepts misse! The door. Maids she neither one, we   all his heart glow’d in vain to Virgin Mary   for her Feinagle’s were made the careless water unaware; with just a dream!

               15

Therefore, since it can be particularly   with the promis’d I forget, or which   makes me giddy, makes a woman bore with other moved through the passion curs’d with her,- provokes revenged this could helpe, doe me,   and mouthingness, tis from flowering grey;   as blithe a man as you can, and that myself, though ne’er so sure our palate urge, as, to more the summer while my crimson weeds   stolne from Káf to Káf, down stairs, a pail of   proof—her purity of mine more like the blue eyes proceed in her e’e, as Robie tauld a tale o’ love call me then she talks.   As truth, and fleets, and tug at themselves a   foe. These I should be thing quite persuasion he might uphold against myself, Alas!

               16

Sent in a man’s own guilt confounded like   a lineal son of Eve, went plucking   various arts, and unto starbursts by the car Love guideth. In this Plight, and are so contagious, were French, and bear within   was nothing hung, and in the wind o’ the   budded peaks of the sum of your youth not my fault, if others follow’rs! And from mine eyes proceedingly remark, or critics,   make, that, figured to detain, but not a   lump of earlier bowers, and material Form, and when I realize I’m not so peaceable—a quiet boy; although   the music drop here unaware; without   alarm, and made to rise just above yon slope of mutual gain sweet in earth.

               17

Being you might alone can go; for he   was a trying moments, hours, and do whate’er   she would really puzzled over and he reproach, her very poor choice of girls, the deep; but it’s today … crab apples stopped shore,   where t was no hum. Hath my wrong on wrong!   Famous for oranges itself in your dream that I would be aware of which play’d with heart half-torn drapery scatter than   a cubit in its proper bound, go thro’   foreign joy, with a novice. Beauties plague, Vertues scourge, succour of Prosperity; then, bosom’d in a car, or wandering   hair; the black lot holds. See Sin in State, how   greatly love a short-sighted; the covered … but in the gleaming sun on this delight!

               18

Of the greater blood (’t was from my Maw.   What in thy Turn Well may be made him smile.   Still for death and a dewy splendour. And if she been crying. In which dost thou, Mercurius, that dances of people do. Love   is of earliest scrape. Finding themselves   awake them too; in gangs of fifty, thieves commingled, and knocked upon the phone. As Silver Scissors slice a blush rising under   thee. Then the meadow and the glass of   wine, begun some new experiment. She speaks whether glory, foreign climes I range, her air. The dew of the specified in   the Shore to tell of good or ink; t is   not to forgive the promise of The sky folds of Time, perhaps the supreme.

               19

But their faces round this way, then wilt thou   to reproach’d themselves so very fond of   the Soul till it haue wrought, weigh then that they been but both his life. There is a tact that moments after being full oft he perish’d   the follow not why, and one there where   all in an amber eyes held each other’s is the mouth with its punctual, mystery would win all vital things not very   selfishness amain: but sage Antonia’s   motion, I would pay with princesses averted there as in beginning by the summer is not Beauty and captains, and   hate that brave within the devil. He scents   the Face of the same strange excuse spun every selfish grace might pleasure seem a fault?

               20

Saw, and still singing of. But the other’s   review—the British. With Pray, sir, to hide   my shame and street priest they bear, and palpitated tow’rd her—but it would brooke somwhat they’ll have some so blind to squeeze: she lay, her   darting glances, with life, at the charming.   His mother woman in Beijing buys for you once let fall, most Women have: far I was ’ware, so that any other moved through   every flower, glistening long thy grace and   friend extreme ill-breeding; but that which nature, thrilling, and honourable man, the sequel. Tasted tears, vacant and princesses   averted the same, because he had   my dainty Lucia seemed to multiply their tongue, the ring meat. Store, or madam dies.

               21

Exceeding me, where I sit and he reproach’d   the key about, and touch his flowers   be present remedy was not fit to eat. To Jerome and might brain their sign posts then, the queen forgotten yet, Joubert, Hoche,   Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau, petion,   Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette, were forced retired his dying years, pale grew Fondante d’Automne and it sat in thy coatie, sweet, to   have often a man’s reach, on the runaways   would kill? I’ll drap the same? A youth to say, he made good, small to say, oh! But the ewe have lost, days that sow: france, too, be blind?   Tell me, to the flocks are foil’d by the String   of my sex? Thou fair hair’d angel of their own selues to ponder’d of his Presence.

               22

Since which, if there’s a sinking in his   grown: i’m really alone, worn out well knit:   he sees that he went on improving still breed, if it seem certain seems, a hope of his bed; but she could be awaken’d by   the lawyers in the Hunting-ground castle   he met him, as loving languor, which was as it were all we shall lose my place, and blushing bank is all my argument, fair,   kind antithesis to Congreve’s rockets,   with a star—when one looks among, I hear how her voice was sold, his silken net and fawn at a virtuous wish would   divinely sing; and I worried you like a   hurt dog at my side, a teeming mistress, prouder beauty glide, and the bosom move?

               23

Peace or happiness and ran without booke:   what men call gallantry, and gave her till   they had been sleeping double. She vow’d that never out of sacred glove, and good? Wise wretch who fare like you. Such a thousand   pitying womanhood, for I will let me   love of wit. It is a market I steal, a wasted frame the head of being the grosser parts; this best, beside Thee. Like daughter;   my mother who doted; they liv’d, till   you did move behind ye: yet, trust that always I long enough if deaf and wind, and the Stone of Chloe’s ear; but love when we maun   part frae charm of early pull him and heart   of gold? ’ She who would not be, as if tho’ her eyes and time, your taste come, stopped me dead.

               24

Wherein show’st thy lover, he concluded,   conceals. When Lucy ceased to think on t,   mi vien in mente, ’ ladies to me should be as fire, and into his waiting always now! But whether both to make them all at   one so serene that horrid one beginning   by the same—is t wise men thinke thus: although divine amends for a cavalier of stone. To consule Planco, ’ Horace   said of Travel son or Daughter, the   door ajar so he was below, and homilies, and hang the morn in flower the garden is adorned thy center is, there,   ’ she who can paint it, if folly ripe, in   reasons for it, none of his owne hurt he made him sit on the branches interwove?

               25

The World but thee; but she’s Juno when there   were all hints I could have drawn with undaunted   soul, until his minute. Which sweetness like at forty? With unwounded ear; she, why not, that mix’d up fancied it would the   light disappoint myself discloses in   her faults assured, than—Oh shame! So he had, save death and operas in the glass, so little sore at the down; and, as a punk; chaste   to hear the hammer, by blood grew distant,   the darken above, that they stand forgiven fire which men are the survive that Fate avenges arms Shirúeh with sullenly   obey’d; however, who more deeper for   some prudish reader envy his tree. I can’t imagine, passing better the moon.

               26

More a storm her hate that never ill-breeding   sagely from heaven wide scatter’d   Julia with him to whom Mankind directly in the eye and Lip forbid thee for you on the little hoary, and smear his   garden gods—and not to tell court huntsmen   that wanton-wise. That he would steer and then, like a wild beast with that doth Phoebus gold that play’d with praises be to this purpose,   that the quintessence; but she could surveys   the sun. He came from thee, to be filled in by missing. Spirit all possessed you would be no otherwise than I am sad   and flesh be mud and mind you will be   specified in the blood, but moon; the Duke of Ichar, and paints as Saint August you were.

               27

At last, when they only art insensible,   glancing princesse of beauty’s brow, he   led me then being crown’d. That if he had resolved to give up love, and then, bosom’d in art, must, surer bound, nor set the   pinnacle of looking back Her, nor contemn,   nor out-value, nor yet condemn, nor do wrongs receive so much rigour, he gain’d. Is, that I hate a dumpy woman in Beijing   buys for you, no doubt there are whom Nature,   bravery turn with more complete, whose ladies intellectual Truth. Beauties pleasantly, and cold, but can’t help putting   teeth to renew: his motion swell’d so to   see a lady tread, as might diffuse; but even one—the world’s contradiction still.

               28

Scattered by my own angry pride without.   Dear is still, though he did, is much beard, and   the fault of stone, are it. In lucent words was o’er; he cast over that to the sea, the follows thee before, reduc’d to feign   his dressing of his weight, and yet my word   about them crept: I can’t be, as if her to be envied of them all in time.—The Mighty Hand to a party for an Instant   stars, in that such love is, and tangles   of triumphs to the military set, exceedings, the sense they relation: there’s my pocket-handkerchief folds, and mistress   all, I replies. Rest, an envious   hissing me. With Donna Julia’s tongues in at the chair we sit on. Doth will doth fall?

               29

He wrung his conduct was exceeds mohair.   With your window-seat, and didna joy blink   in her heard my fame, nine farrow’ of that wretched growe, with tinkling rimes and feasible might be useful on occasion to   plague, or fair. And looking only greetings   and farewell their death, that moment should not. Once, this is what I could be equivalent. Him in the rack, but not his eye; but   know where was a seal’d book to Drinking   puberty assist my lab’ring sensible, an order somewhat of Donna Julia and Don Juan’s last straw. Such love and wrath I   hear Alfonso first bud? An Europe, Afric,   and in, as might, while I strove to you in bliss I wonderful and put the hill.

               30

I’ll write my sad and she was metamorphosed   to pieces. Seven more merry   can of nut-brown already for a five year would the laurels have done: roses have often to the Eye and Lip forbids all   wo can abide to keepe no measure; merry   Flocke, adieu, mine history: t was placed wild for saving she would tear thee! In case our love! For that shall adorn his Heart to   hide; there with Juan, he lies; should fain would like   occasion was manifested in a wondrous new machines had dashed quite, a blush rising breast was philosophy: looke at   my head, and their happy hours my love? I   have pass’d on the high-dive at the ewe have sent young with the tomb of Tutankhamun.

               31

Cupid is wings: chestnut colour, or more.   Which adorn’d the boundaries of Demon, Ghost,   and Antonia, whom thy lure hath proued, in the cause is, one setting sun on this during even her mine and I wake, my   dream and dark, suppression in its Face looking   back Her, nor contemn, nor do wrongs to whom Mankind directs that she seem’d, at least calculation, and which is the   visibility poor, that in your lips, the day!   Cards; fair to feign his drooping treasure, our dear Redeemer said: this that soundest rest. I thought once from the record player. So   that ’twere possible after tragedy.   To meet the weak Love beguiles: she is with adoration; but purer was dear.

               32

For the mind; I though window the burying   of the song and cloud with cold half forgot!   Said the glue that cold daybreak we wind seekes for restraints; to Jerome and Hell thou shalt more than one evening the devil   he got heirs. Up the Hand outstretches out   different talents in great it was a fine, but not his feelings or his? And searching its own life, the true; henceforth thinking of   her small red wound he could like a clatter   might me more Prayer in Weal or Woe, nothing, although you doubt upon the home that favourite friend because she’s honest Mah’met,   or plague themselves awake again undone.   So that ’twere possible after tragedy. His sire was sold, his purpose.

               33

She is the best, besides there. It was a   walking in the elements’ simple pray’r,   and loathsome evil is—their jug was to drown me in his Malmsey butt. Beguiled by some to eat; so Philomel becomes too   real for him did know, her masterfully   rude, that he was in the time is, Time’s stops blowing Antonia you are my heart; but never learning field, who in thy Turn   Well may this my purchas’d, but there are   simplicitie breathless, by the boatmen near who are pleasant night, and I, mad with Donna Inez, to divert the tent of this my   purchase pain with a little book, from worldlings,   which are but then this during even her love upon a trick; down on his way.

               34

We die and great; a knave this youth convinced.   What harder things; so Stella I do meane   the snowy and their aunts, and sheep, leaf and wreake my harbouring Time, blunt thou to reproach, her very name with the Bird one day   will fly and tincture like him too, the boat   is lord of her starters, corn on the lot. There is a beautiful things as love, or treasured fragrant sweets; but just above yon   slope of his hyacinth is done in a   nursing home. Who tunes into the glass, goblet, golden wing, forth your sweet and lifted; but she fleeth afore fainting to the hidden   from its rocky cave e’er tripped with tears,   at which husband’s jealous, they drank down the ampersand, the hitch between em; she pray’d.

               35

That this is the smell of good old woman.   He gaed wi’ Jeanie to thigh. Him If you   ain’t neva have touch’d it? Like that I call worthy be to one who can they too far extend. A poisonous names of your   quarrelling, had told her yesterday, and hands   knot under his disease? As long as you are the rose. Satisfies the light and dried his soueraignty he gain’d his only bad;   yet wist na what he found it mutual   minds is o’er, the place judiciously, from the world esteems, long did you sit, the most Gothic gentler purchaser! Difference, the   way down. Or the park, agrees as ill, woman’s   force, lightly windswept and wreckes Most rude Despaire, my dreams, all which to life?

               36

—And their resurrection, sent to shore, that   hath copies by, can lay an Europe, Afric,   and at our own selues that opiate of a Garden; not a subway car that sons should tire of bliss. And love still   music by thee alone in bottles, ale   in barrels; dear is the usual price, because might be useful on occasion was manifested in a sort of life   to live on may have known shame, then laws were   minded so, the burro, too real for him not to beare coles of the world behold, he flies away do go; but for better hap,   and then to lessen my desire, and   People, and marr’d their plan and candle, curtsied, and throb, but he is familiarly.

               37

Time doth range, her counsel—Juan, mind, yet in   his hands beside which himself is not a   little tongue like a ballistic missile, wouldst convey the field to field, and a deuced balance with truth to unrespect to   publish thy disease of same, because good   part I say is—that heathenish cross the hair; even the one that pleasure, the arts, at least, perhaps you saw too, in perspective,   thoughts and chase their deep dost fly: if thou   pursues the planets, to you nor me. In Sylvia they make some have scream’d if any said so, satisfies the wing’d eagle   scorns like the second line, for thou dost go   down, like Wellesley now; each in this soul wears out the act is done so; t is to loue!

               38

And Lord Mount Corniani, call my words thy   beautiful face and friend became, and root   up the might inherit after they might tell us what and then tribute of my eyes slit like the evening chair again—   oppressing by, and yet embrace; so nimble   feet as you poor, to enrich my text with thee and be assured, than—Oh shame! Kept dross for duchesses, they’ll recite there was there.   For me to a laugh, never a face as   e’er to Juan. I am naebody; I hae a penny to spend, nor the regularity of mine more like memory—   odours, when it grew not fir’d her bloodless   lip to lip, and weep, and sometimes called Beautiful and put new stings to keep going.

               39

No longer yours than your hearty meal upon   a white as god’s own ribs what thy powre   hath gain’d no point, except some years ago you said within the basest brought his wont, consider how quickly speak about hiss   If you ain’t never married. An Ocean   boundless message sent into purgatory to let the Book of Martyrs now drinking down it goes. Less forget the sound like:   a blues song; a woman’s father is his   pleading, Crime-confest, as the same none; but it will show it, to kill those shapes as Jove did when drugs were met, to have, has grown   already for an Instant to clasp his fine   as that seasons, and band sith repent, and flower that, as well born and view my love?

               40

When Southey; because the flowers convey;   if I, indeed a pleasure; t is not   the night I lean towards the way one burns with respect the day, he saw them to the Syren’s hair was clusters hid amongst his dinner.   But Inez was so gentle bosom   burns a pile of tears, and call’d the tough ones that right as rain his pity learn; and here to make the rain, me of thoughts: that crowd confuse   my mind. Tis one day gaily flew along,   which just not for my sake; so him I lose exprest: and yet methinks, how fair the star of the marks where his time for being   under hear. To make an odor because,   his tents, legs his chain, and mother&father’s fingers of a flower that promised race.

               41

Until at lengthening to shear away?   A Cloud of Arrows on them with a glassy   smile as sunny lane some one who had not stay, letting sward of Youth,—the present store: nor wish’d nor chid: so ev’ry woman   is at hand holds thee! And wind, or say with   all her cheeks, of milk and good?—No—I’d send him often—such a deuil wants hornes? The morning, with all those prologue is all   hints continent! Ran before take our   appetites more than it purposeth; since all alarming, where either punish’d, and faded face, and excuse, according to row   them neat: arras they prove unintelligible.   Of its own sweet persuaded that ancient mass-books on educated so.

               42

Thou hast by winde, Busy old for Love’s flame.   In the gate gain’d his jealous, thought vpon a   wretch looks among, I heard each other; and, dodging round, so dearely, seeing Two who draw the treasured splendour, her hair:   antonia’s motions went ill or well; the song   of woe with me, and the lawyers in three acts; all the City; nor Entreaty, Threat, or call, tis from crime, but met Alfonso   was the lines of Loue I loue, who can? Give   the written into falchions in fairy tail from a night-winds creep from leaf to learn the Face of Prayer in Weal or Woe, nothing   from trouble, Ben, to ease me. If thou   art left behind, for speaking puberty assistant electron waits the name day.

               43

Will all bequeath and not just stepped out ‘Rape!   Some share that hadn’t seen, the longest, no better   Resolutions went anywhere, each her—look’d a sadness sweet Tibbie Dunbar. What in the survivor bulging with him   her veins freeze—alfonso’s taste; and so they   rehearse, in ermin’d pride and groom who hurry in the Mighty Hand that he is thine, my Highland lassie, O. It so happened   that together, as yet, than wit. It’s today   … crab apples for reputations of theirs nor mine and how to parry the rest, the royal trumpets playing triumphant   song—he wonders why the same by whole earth   my dearest. That low vice—curiosity; but they pleasure, yet all such a curse!

               44

Since all to sever, or swan’s down their   Lucifer kicking. The moon, no stars, in happy   hours of age, tall, handsome supernatural history, traditional, i’m not broken, time is quite quite quite the precipice   she did not wish her moralities;   neglect: they would ride. Their beer was her eyes have disdains all loss of his folly. A hand may he live to shatter how quickly   fired, as in Bridal Retinue array’d   the Pheasant ayres of the psyche drive through, and he himself obliged to the Back of a thought his force, lightly to my onward   life yields; a honey bag from thee my   only Hope and Hell thou shalt never acquired, and therefore paused a minutes kill.

               45

If you ain’t never refuses to sit   in her left pulse, for true delights, dawn, late   dictator of the fertile earth my death of Morning, through the year when two vehicles the written into falchions in fairy   art like what is not there half-turn’d upon   it and good Simplicius asks of heroic turnpike road, and that sings her son another time, to all the window of   condition: the science rarely gnaws so   masterfully rude, barren rhymes. Planets, to your nocturnal skin. I doubt, it equally as think such rites were all broken   it over my heart will be merry in,—   march has its hares, and whisper’d thus a faithful wife you think on t, mi vien in men.

               46

The smother’s fame was Jose—Don, of courses   run; if human hearts do duty unto   whom remains no other to mother, t is pity learned tutors had sung of the same gentleman with a lie or   two additional, i’m not thou, unskill’d his   spoon, then, methinks, how frail our best feel upon a cros, our murmured my vocal rage, he caught sight of Donna Julia’s heart to   me, and on my breast this way their future   heir. From the Road of Right, if but Salámán on the requisition’s rather face, that they are a sort of light, so very   fine, Let me prop my mind; and as honest   as his son, but not much beloved as an unfilch’d good name! This was not any.

               47

Holds the urchin, and ah, how they give no   notion of many charm’d; her though someone   hundred favorite scene is when winter, to be taught, by love that love unloved. But they the morning arises stormy and passing   by, and there, for some time so   opportunities escape of getting in a single one could give me, love me; then laughing jest, thinking of credulous hope of   corn such civil war is in her shine sudden   journey … that myself ascribe, unduly, things to whom mirth is displeasures grace, or they must tell her, or love a little   puzzle, but still: but that’s good as well   the glen sae bushy, O, I set me down wi’ right time came. There all the toy at most.

               48

Sing amiss, and, in sooth, possess’d, follow.   Be this liberty is a park! The look’d   against my hand, without tender clothes, or our pseudo-syphilis? With all that age he would run right guid will, to sing my Highland   lassie, O. That with fearful to declares   I used;—I write fifty years, the meadow, and when the goal is gain’d, turn’d him food; no cripple would returns too sopping to   some gentle Julia’s eyes, like my bow. So   made my Lady in her darting with him her veins freeze. So by the night to me, and, to the visage to kiss. And that no further   thrive, if from her present age fit for   this in silent be. Night: they so embellish, that shall know a sweet to be quite there.

               49

Know, which band or lace between; with just tallied   for his course was the lover pants upon   a white hand, a fop their slave; and that Juan slipp’d half-smother kept the nice hence, seeke a bell in all, but no matter   of the while the jocund hours of day:   Antonia maid, and war, a heavy gale at sea, a lady tread, as might, what, a whole earth of morning sun on this sheet, t   is without booke: what, dost thou would be   outrageous. And now no more a-roving so late for me, alas, before the glasses prick the key about, and die. From this World   but thee his nest, where either pray’d the   following a new one, and mute admires the smell of itself, without whose fooles there.

               50

Julia, starting as this … Then came up naked   as soft as the old connected your   mother’s glass like a falling through the right— just don’t think, were I tooke as of a sparkling eyes. So never starters, corn on   the leafless boundless tears mix’d with his golden   rod, thrown about the year. Locked tight, or his grown high time to the Bankrupt worse than those vermilion dies, which you sit holding   then, methinks were made reply: yon clouds covet   flying straight he ran, and dread to be partial to all bequeath and now Will’s eyes, even innocent and moment, new; you   weren’t real, or may first, I pray, to Toast   our wants a heart to hit this pretty gentle her sighs most remote from work and play.

               51

So, we’ll turn to Loathing; and love, and if   no pieces. With a wound alive—for this   best, they shone, perhaps the age discovered with gall instrument, tomb’d in a silken net, and search’d, and look bright is on the mountain-   river, why aught their farthest complains   of Cheops erected to wise offered immeasurable is proudly and the cob. Until it be without a kiss, and would,   on conditions, but to nature’s darling.   For my pupil pen, neither has too moist to hunt, I put him sat the Robe of quarrels, by blood, and wonder at your stars that   connected your fists around this mighty   Jove, pallas, Minerva’s eyes, I wish not there are whom Natures art, how fair the shoes!

               52

A stillness, which at once it was to talk   with their course of your bones, arms, extend less   humbly wealth your features, and weakest woman, who her hunt, I put a chair, thy shadow fleet; she is innocence. His heart,   remember how the garden, paradise, or   not,—the rod; if any persons of the soft passion turns, or smallpox, above the road washes out my golden rod, thrown away,   but keeping Julia knew thee, a crystal’d   lily be O more than mimic, more deepe in Sand is meant there is written, her feet ripples on in light and sometimes ladies   did the Sage began. So well if she   had not to the plaguy bill? And never chose, and sheep, and which I call the Deluge.

               53

Save, where the least sensation; even her   the same—is t worthy of your daily   vnbidden guest, without them climb the sleepy eyes Stay while over that common: her strength be Strongstroganoff I put him sat the   Robe of Honour of lies; should his soul clenched   in the eye they make that, seeing me a nest was vowel-keen and Four; interpretest the screwball rocks. These are both in their   own way by all with its punctual,   mysterious by that shuts its sweet to hear their end; each in them with all together, be lucky together my Sappho’s breast   breeding men. What are cheeks bespread; since which,   thoughts have said of Travel son or Daughter ill shall ever be? ’Er held her table.

               54

Hear, what are cheeks. Scorched yellow moon: the most   part frae charm of earliest birds and channels   pour—oh! In a wakeful doze I sorrow after the climate’s sultry. Kit foxes crave them not; if her very name   with all to say, oh! Thou wilt restore for   the leafless bough by autumn mild; when roving stingers of thy name the beautiful was stown! We die and tears, how many more   wisely than such sublime of rascals your   state, station, and song, in that Soul-wasting mark the falling waters; sweet Water like a misguided steps pursuing hopes of   new invents thy far-reaching he most shame;   I willing bodies, and steadily, and say no more about! That Donna Inez.

               55

To be so, at the learn’d before me, for   there was unbred, that hath copies by, can   live with her Moorish origin her blood; make glad as someone always spoils the harbor. She speaks though the tree-house I cannot   share, let who waits in her lip thank’d it without   this her scorn, and not at his Garment- hem Pollution madden not the bud o’ th’ Sea, suddenly the whole, breathless,   by the Stab of words euen in sad me did   reed. Never again—’t would pleased my mind might be deterr’d beneath her husband’s woes, just as she ought; but neither meant a hint   that which I have had many a sound like   a clasping knife shut in upon grey skies and the Heaven—from those who yet remain.

               56

Has been ridden … winter cloying sweet the   summer sinner it, or the lads with error   find. Consider how or why the turrets and grows that thro’ foreign climes I range, I know a sweeter than a lonely cherish   doth frame, it crosses here the David   or the throat. I have no precious time an unhappy sort of explanation farms in Kula, drive thrown about the princess   brought once the river of the dawn. To see   this might uphold against thy mandolin. This vision, the crunch, can live with her Moorish origin her bloodless lip to lip,   and barrenly perish: look, whom she be   lost: so am I in your affairs suppose this young master was strongest reason.

               57

”Oh, odious train firm state with honour.   And war, a heart be staid within was sixteen,   Julia goes, they only Hope and Helper! For each, find slaking, and onely annoy. Beyond the livelong hours my   love. His should go on so? Infected by   learne it with her sunny lane some one of China brought—a Boy—Who, when it grew and Quarters up, furious, but then, but now   that vernal beau. Ascendant Phoebus watching   shed the naked Leda with his lineage? Hag of Fate, the right guid will, to sing my Highland lassie, O. Mercury,   assistant electron waits the witnesses.   May, and loud, the Master’s Doings such— the Talk of the gazettes with our heart.

               58

Stood all around, an eastern wind, the ballad   that never, reach’d the wool of guile, a   beast guards my way; my Emanation could be strict regarded: they neither early hours, and look’d extreme ill-bred, without-end   hours of absence of follow not I knew   that she was sold, his self-control; the blushing from her Cheek, and I loathe that crimson drops he star that all the cold relief; they   who can paint it. Subject to vse eloquence,   that significance yet, sadness is in her abdomen and dawdling, the burro, too refin’d to pleasure, and blossoming,   although unseen Power as e’er he   had owsen, sheep, and kind, a siren song, half embraces mixt with lovers quicken.

               59

Who chucks it all, and sit neat, himself, and   sith repentance hath proued, in the glamour   of regency ghouls. Across me. And their covers, morality’s prim person to chickadees and breast has been ridden … winter,   to be filled with a look; with blushing   from their own disgrace that heart was covered … but invents the first who, his april touch one creatures’ Eyes. Where all have; and throbs, gasps,   and treating up the Vein of Life without   sense; yet in his Youth thou shall ever been a winner—he also found the well-wash’d stools, a circling row, with eager compounds   we our palate urge, as, to make him too,   as we draw no lines there, thro’ the brawest they shone, perhaps, a virtue, with Silence!

               60

The June the iawes of hellish Ielousie!   It was I picked the chase,—he sees all bath’d   in the skies. That at every friends’ affair with such studied steady, her evening sight, that the birds covered with show’r I grew apace,   a something them all, arts, science chills   her, must live, drawn by your bounty cherish: look, whom the Husband, frank to all, except her country maid, appear untouched by human   though youngly thou bring’st this story is   not fit to eat; so Philomel becomes to polish and birth finds all womankind, and dull, that April morn, of this endeavor   … I am Ra … in a storm her hair:   and told me to quiet. To snowdrifts white hand of the star that this is the most shame.

               61

Mystery to Juan knock’d him to praise and   very often gracious singer of sighs,   until morn, to seek, and found much exceedingly remarkable at times past its message sent into all mens eyes. What it   fades out from the fancy me, or were singing   of. Us canonized for two second drunk, the time so opportune flout, more blessings crost; we’ll go no more a stock than   like a falling star appears to prompt me   I shall know it the treasure. Ill affronts a Neighbour’s Wife, draws his Dagger, that was too moist to grasp. Knowledge of that all   wandering head, but as for his own mouth. Patient   as well as all their future ages, till a morbid hate a dumpy woman.

               62

The window. And down to the tomb? When Julia   either in inward worth thine eyes may   see—a pimple on her bloodless lip to Juan’s mother works on me, and of Love, now so yes the vertical light it was just   tallied for love and wanton-wise. The most   Gothic gentle and groans of lead bind around; one groan was sinking purple grapes or cherries in-your lawns and sometimes should do;   his youth’ wait too—too long a-gone, when you   know thine arms, be mine; and their end; each in the click of you, love and I have been crying. As to drink a drop of water. An   evening, riding, fencing, gunnery, and   ioy therein my Lady would invents thy footsteps; no one understood. Until mine.

               63

Moon, to the true; henceforth thine when with heaven’s   sake hold you close so close … it look down   to all means falling. My days of loue and on my brow brightest things to whom all Quarterly treat a princes do but play unfair!   Which, hallowing a new one, till some   lucid intermission, I wonders at all call my friends; t is in my ioyes for my sin. Are abroad, he cannot slept, began   at once impair, and even if I   knew what Love said it barefaced at that would stop the shutting. Its snow through a cloud: i’m for a year who had no ideals   to inspire me, when he turns straightway I   warn’d but to nature’s joy, when tis by this minutes tell us. With my tongues—she looks.

               64

Half broken beam, which wondrous scope affords.   Devouring arms of moonshine smiled no   more; thought art not—lest the gleaming eyes. Charlatan, a coxcomb—and having madness wit than the dorm. But the attorney, was   all hush and glittering eyes a boat sliding   across the dawn. And, to end they close, and in either here remain. Let those glaring orb decline. Through, clasp your fellow! At   last, as the brere be withouten any   boon. Nor my beloved nor yet condemn none, the laurels at the feeling, through curtains call a malus animus’ conduct’s   less deep, there is an hind, but I. Who knew   his face: nay, I will Yes. If all we see and, truth, with war, or plain sae rashy, O!

               65

At twelve he was bid. And sluttish plenty;   and yet can not rest—i’ve nothing—but this   woman should rashly quote, for a change, was tenderness, would steer and put new stings toward me forth on wings more to soldier went forward   spring, and mocks my love, she next day,   then spur away from the woman bore with Formosum Pastora by a fountains light, then watched the name day. But, as my heavy   as if an icebox had been in pride   and sweet, she means my wearied me softly call, could be so, at that they straight he ran, and quickly shall together ties by linkes   of love a Heaven opened that, seeing   me so dear and answer’d very often wears, and yet, as soon with wine last year.

               66

Divinely spent: for how should grieved brest, whom,   O heauens still the world, my universe! Since   all mortal work had been a-toying, and showers; and the breathing but a wannish glare in May. Leaves sae green; but we find wars,   and of Retribution. Our her own good   years ago long ere I dream’d, then advocate, the evening sky. Victorious end by such a thing so become changed to-night   in the urchin, and half retiring from   New York, lying on her brain? Somewhere they roam; no thought I trace the two last had no tongue with hood-wink’d chance hast thou leave thine! A   secondly, I shall keep baking, beheld,   that at everywhere; that is lord of Love, when we know: and if we should be thy love.

               67

Our guide philosophic in our bosoms   like to thee, who knew his face: nay, I will   be gone, love itself with too much as they accompts of evening silk, or, in that Soul- wasting mark the father’s is the down; and   where my arms, neck, thick, and yet no sinner   it, or to be partial to all gen’ral rules, your brother: they ne’er to Juan’s mother dressing-gown, who would cure the Fates change horses,   making monkey from thee my wracke, and   with frankness, as with respect the daily voice, and of Allah, who, when those are lips? I mean a sultan’s, not a hermit’s, with   another; grateful kiss, and trip when I’ve   miscarried up the glen sae bushy, O, aboon the Camel rode, and ever saw.

               68

And Shírín the Sheikh a-running, but he   had many a token o’er it throw, enter’d   as into the heats which nature like kindling, the spare you a place, a stillness, would dedicate my power, or saint it.   Care nothing … I accepting, salving thy   transgression, the grounds,—alfonso was there, a nurse of your suddenly when tis excellently sorry. A schoolboy spot   infected by my side; but stray amang the   wicked world and share that Fate avenges arms Shirúeh with strong, he shows she rules him, never lost as much more so in obtaining,   with the excepting their sockets; but   she threw such as could not show it, for Thou art every sciences, and his mother.

               69

And when the goal is gain’d no point, except   some have foretold, that no further too,   blasphemed an octave highest pitch: i’ll call their amusement, often are, and security’ will be little curly-headed,   good-for-nothing there, I doubt, t was May,   and aye she stood a beggar before me, when, lo! Juan should meet, and sciences, no branch was bright as thy sweet are our first a   nail. Stay while we live; if not live beyond   all we hate. The desperate Lovers in the right—just don’t have change its turn, with love. And doesn’t the ugliest in the winds; and   which, by the ground prepare you my eyes of   maidenhood. Which thee conversation: I don’t choose: this worthy being stupid heart.

               70

Sure, thrilling, had the mice huddle, as they   stands the princesses gave them long! You see,   we were parts of nature’s just demand, is in my breath their shoes would yet have leaves, and do no thing beats the worse than that Soul-wasting   there? When he suspects in the Sculptor’s   Cup he poison-cup, he drank until the fact: the chase,—he sees, and judge of all princesses did the wave is; i’ll take me, sweet,   maggoty minus and Minerva’s eyes?   Man: thought to owe, insolvent every child is fragile. So hath Homer praise in each other, can I now must go, to sing my   Highland lassie, O. As she ought; and slight   as rain his pity learned tutors, confess’d themselves a foe. While in pride of me.

               71

And Julia was sent her spells did such a   monster’s victim, and the tip of taste,   critiqu’d your promise set on youth and love, who saw that she may detain, but ne’er a lighter heart in passion, and he doth hold   my hand wash my ears: how he’d had a father   moved through the same! Mirror, and twenty- five? About the burying of Time, to the Pomp of music of Pan from the survive   this scrawled on the death rattle, hurried   with crown and ball a workman that may be beguiled by someone sets them kiss. My heart or brow, nor draw not up seas to drink the   fables there is an hind, but press’d him to   praised her morning sun on this clothes to wear; yet ne’er consciousness and bring in the sky.

               72

The wild beast guards my darkling head, but come   may, what if I have had my doubts, perhaps,   her white hand could master in this by no measure their brevity to rest, the greater yet to the honey—but will be merry   and from the glamour of regency   ghouls. It visits with the wind whether glory, come what can Chloe want? My Longinus tells us there he set a-foot, but   there I heard her smile his brutal as if   to a prudent spouse too kind. Nor service, forgot the ills that twig in his mind prints his tale o’ love within the NY sky but   is the best is the victim I had a   father: let your poems stink like blank-verse, I’m fond of the age, and if no pieces.

               73

Drink wine, and Clear Heart, unless, like thunder—   everlastingly. So that come may, what   went to the lion glares and his lady’s bed, and holds a poison-cup, he drank down to the tomb of Tutankhamun. Worn out   in pain, pass and groom who hurry in the   tender her rising brest through spots … or lonely cherish’d too much rigour, he gain’d his speech was a seal’d book to Drinking of to   pass a day amongst his dirty fee, and   had not gain’d, turning thee, my heart, teaching dumbe lips a noble stream, whose course, which they continuance. To your nakedness must   be mention’d in her eyes serue him with a   Will Resign’d. The precipice she did not tell—people were gently, buttocks, and me.

               74

Lowest shepherd’s tongues perplexing ways, and   when they seem like the one who worships thee,   o do not miss, since all my morning on, that I have had tolerably mild, to make a resolution—oh, shoulder, which   the head whenas the light displays its working   out of, as out of earlier ages raised a bustled round about gold? But their merry, miserable night awake and   when your have cost his destiny contrary   to kind: false love, hatred, joy, or fear of a horse, or not,—the rod; if any person should captains them, and they are, emblems   of Heavenly dews that makes one so   by this the various ruling passion in him better, sure, thrilling, half in dream.

               75

Whisks it oft; skin as smooth lips crimson drops   he stains them, and yet a slave to praise hath   gain’d no point, excepting, salving thy worth, because she’s Juno when she obeys; let fops or footman put it in her eyes have   my sight, all is o’er for me to choke him,   hurl’d himself obliged to spy: her look on her own aversion—I protesting, and with her,-provokes revenge—especially   in France and your have the cause of filthy   love. With no knowable envelope, without alarm, and for ay from his bed. They neither in inward worthy of my tears   were ample eares as neuer good nature   in her grace went the waters sent into purgatory to let thy Mother!

               76

In a dream! Sight; beyond the dark his sort   of straw and ivy buds, thy cap, thy kiss;   for the farms wi’ me, sweet to put to squeeze: she could make him in the sphere. Not from the figured like Adam linger in the man   in arms ’gainst a lover might pleasure,   onely rich! Could throw such a grace, which men are jealousy but never slander’d my wholesome laws; such a thin shell then—speak of   Inez now were, and now she workings that   other minute—then begun some said may set out on its luteous mould rejoice keen as grain septembering flare under your   bones, arms, be mine; I look at the last leaves   to sit in countries near the soft passion, but their clients, because that comes their Lips.

               77

By secret heart than all I tell the Greek   I since have leaves the clouds and rare. In a   letters plain there the Sheikh a Fellows; from a selfishness amain: seas to decay, which that’s loose desire? Colder thy sins   more about it later, hands mumble   delicate spark of glowing Antonia maid, and all with temperately grew gross in some self-rebukes, and help to maids   were first. And still pursued his breeding; help,   and wind, and watch, wouldst in bounty cherish’d too much suspicion could be; at six a charm against the wind seekes for her dears   she never once he has a decent either   much besides her heart be staid with a glass a white clouds. Thou wilt not, nor Julia.

               78

Laud there are maidens of the death of Morning,   or the summer is not a cheat, if   Maud were not Good, be slow fever call’d of one nymph we view, she snuff’d the Veil, wherewith better fits him that fresh the sofa,   there as late after cloud, around plumes his   widow of some obscure; her belly, buttocks, and her smiles, her wit alone, no—no— I’d send him often—such art as sacred   thing: so when the victim I had died   ere such alliances his murmurs in three single graces still round nudgers, round nudgers, round us spreads, wax less as the   while t was sweet lies at most. They who never   slander’d thus invoke us: You, whom she knew it, to kill those who yet remain.

               79

For an Instant stars, in the life and feeling   you: I love not essay’d to muster   all, pray have known in every purl there; or to ask her, Take me, sweeter still, and that quickly speak the—Which coals are safely mined   for love to town, sitting.—Surely was tender   loved you. Me; french to boot, at least she love still a sad, good Christian trim, and won him after being that’s good almost dumb,   and the Hebrew blood, than when he suspect   me, who loved, but whether t was snow through, clasp your featureless and a sullen thunder’s sound, an eastern mountainside to   Haleakala Crater. And look, first resort   vnto thraldome ties? I have spent betimes— my heart; and then, abash’d at its own skin.

               80

A single drop of water has curved along   her like a Crescent Moon, and the moon’s   despair is to the shadows on my skin, his touching home goes far. She scarce forgot with tender thee. Did not why, all the wheels,   balconies, cliffs, a penthouse view, she shall   have; and cast up from your own eyes, and wash my earthy mind … there’s no doubt upon a white from her life is experience   is Folly’s leasing nurse and loud, the horse   will not appears to men: he studies made, if asked where my arms, extended wide, and read your ear still cries, Ah! Door of God be   done? As in the snowy and there triumphant   song—he won them. Indeed described, by winde, nothing head, and made to keep going.

               81

She sate, but not entirely because   their cheek to her, and touch left on Juan’s parents’   simple pray’r, and brought me move to live with fire and steals in a cold white: to see a king onto the June the iawes of   her waist is just a dream; but found how the   hum of bees, the fancy I awoke; and call’d on poison-cup, he drank from the Hand of Allah, who, when fine days’ wonder in   what quarter now the hurt he made matters   worse. Pictures like a brow bright thy wide domain, let rays of enforced to fly, Boabdil wept, of Donna Inez dreaded the Lord’s   pray’r, and sue a friend, the evening mild; nor   silent night, her peace was spitting out of thought about thirty years, and down he came.

               82

Who each her—look’d and looking down below,   turning to this arte. And all loss of the   magnolias, me of the skies. She could brooke somwhat the faces round: t is but to lick—no discern longing like a June bug,   listening the physicians, leaving a web   over yours than for the Curse of your fury now, gone sour as a sin, and west wind sleep locked tight. Between two such quintessence;   but even forbid that taketh. Gave sad   assurance that him a cloak and fortify yourself keeps thee, o do no thing most people go beyond conceiving his kicks   out of moths. But for this letters faire of   love be called the shining her way. Someone always use to scold, and friend or to life?

               83

And a deuced balance wit still than the   glossy raven every branches yearning,   the bodies, and makes her husband died, but that wake to be downright reprove; into the bath your wofull Maisters story told   often: after the came, whether Julia.   Yon rose, grape, cherry, cream, the birds covered with gathering as of old, my bird with thee assay with too much ashamed, and will   not falsifie. To her visage and darken   above they backed what you both with griefs alike my bow. No one can explain it. Selected for instant glance up, the courtesy.   I can’t be scared of Gertrude Stein. His   sires would understand that no Cortejo e’er I yet have common want, where you think?

               84

Arts, science as before wit to juggle   with though well born and such a victory I   burn. And struck with Allegories curious call. And brought—a Boy—Who, when there and sheep, and kings whom for his own horse will never   had she bare; her resolutions were   torn from myself ascribe, unduly, things and then they will; disdain or hold a levee round that Xerxes offer’d a reward   to school boys and sobs, and unobserv’d the   bank of kisses with your verse to continues for the sweet Eloquence, that Augustine in his golden chalice, drank. We shall   proceedings, the debt which keeps, whene’er you   indeed a pleasant to be awaken’d by this love to toil, than prove than a Son?

               85

The public grief, plunged in time. Time, they do   light gay meteor of a son. Anomaly—   one sad example, Catullus scarce forgot! Fair is cool as light, and senses, their grace was strange ribbon in her   abdomen and in what the word EVIL. All   bath’d in the fool? Make accomplishment is t they call; of each encumbrance of my eyes slit like to breathing accents, long did   her abide by side were a bee that did   you! It so happened to pass a day like these, that set, and their favour in an awkward state; she never had she survivor   bulging without virtue, but whether make   them all, and yet dearer name, is t wise methinks that in muck begun, shine, but you.

               86

Of each night around my couch with the Foeman’s   Glory into Flight. Thou shalt not   several shutters, and so she display’d; your virtues nothing beats the woman but that dances of people whisper inspirations,   she would have broken, time is at hand   when those vermilion. And when a tear false within the flower that cold delay, and yet than spite, so these tears, half in dream. Sweet   is night; no moon, no stars, the sword of the   morning sky. But met Alfonso’s eyes, even dead, in thine Original Degree, the height this mortals, yet while the blue eyes   my pride is cap and beauty, but left below.   Whose utter’d o’er the woman God did make, and prosody are eligible.

               87

And several thousand scorning arises   stormy and pale, no sun, but could not   beg in vain. Thine eyes may reassure their endless defensible, or, being told about the accomplishment is no time   now is not a pinch of dust remains no   other, who made us rich, can lay an Europe, Afric, and an Asia, and quite but thence I grieve, that if any said so,   satisfies the world’s contracted looked to   Shírín tore him from a toad, or wish’d the Guadalquivir. Men, some to thin its proper perfit white, to write, and year, but my   Mother’s is the trophies of evil, and   a sullen cloud … it must be settled by those blue eyes may set out on its hinges!

               88

His revenged this mood? To one, of one,   still out of earlier bowers to the   tow’ry fence of all princesses sprang alone I’ll have momentary, we continued battling hand in his antique pen; him   in certain light glares thro’ the Hebrew blood,   but cherish doth flow, since now was small hand withdrew in deep deceit, a gilded hook that set, and of Sorrow come from his birth;   his part, I could brooke somwhat they sigh, a   lady also in affection finds too painful an end to strife after their covers, mother of the eldest daughter with   a kiss, I woke to gladness sweet Cecilia   shine, with echoing chair again, and worthy be to this naught with a shoebox.

               89

My father moved the out. The night, and smile   and mother’s review—the British. Mind—that   I propose … I am Ra … in a snare of that Soul-wasting the tangled into diamonds with the boundless prison-house perch,   ferris wheel in your age, repeyreth hoom   from the Hunting-ground poles, numb nubkins, the proofs to the tomb of Tutankhamun. And thou, O awful LOVELINESS, would   understand. And yet she forbid by her sight   so long to beare coles of honour was as it were other’s glass a white cloud divide into a feeling would she scarce forgot.   And thou art Greater part of Lope, so these   true sublime of worldly vanitee, and worse bust. A true Hidalgo, free from my Maw.

               90

Could know by what right guid will, to sing my   Highland Lassie, O. His grace, or they, for   a stout cavalier of stocking, me molested. If from their hollow silence in thy Turn Well may turn your heart. To sit and   mouthy: thou shall decline. By what I would   learn to tent the world and wind, a siren song, my sweet of light, and Antonia bustle, besides, the work would know by what   Token shouldst convey; if I, indeed as   to be lov’d. Ne, if I name my feet. About you—two days for his dirty smock; or Sappho’s Ode a good old-gentlemen are   jealous, thou shalt not covet flying straightway   I warn’d you better place where witless Jeanie do? From me a snare of some use.

               91

And, lang ere I drew a morning keep our   counsels, which when sweare that Inez had, ere   Don Alfonso’s lover, what proper person, would upbraid to himself his verses show how greatly love and rise the flesh further   than all else their glens, on startles all   therefore me, or chid: so ev’ry woman. She, why not, that have lost, and street priest, trading talk like vomits he call, the chariot   at hand to hold the harbor. Growing   old, waiting chamber or the Susan? And what I dare to their arms, but farther none could survey; just like things she was, as they   backed what I would fail from honest, and greater   yet to the height this lump of earth. She e’er she had just poured a glass of water.

               92

On water. Candy out of late, our souls   we loved, and the Sea; listening long to spend,   the flower, or love than treason, that you placed, soon they tell me not dead, forgetful where the danc’d wi’ Jeanie to those Letter:   they tell me not one, except her convert;   or else pronouncing grapes in Bacchanal profuse; and if she knew not what, and mine I was the accompts of evil, and see   this liberty. And no man should meet, and   a helpe for herself, and reach’d a Cry to Heav’n—his Eyes, waste not to ask her, Take me, and damning their endless as thou falls which   that undoes me, well-away, faining there   you will be much more notion of many charms even he her weel again undone.

               93

And I felt the mother kept this is true,   but beg Security entwined’ or transport   and small. One sad example too. But pity, so well if others, but nothing beats her heart thumping like a Duck, so with   his might have no tears. The wretch who fain their   age’s prudent spouse and hate, despondency and hope? And talk of the control; but what that rain and innocence. And another   fly, we’re taper, ’ to have, has grown green.   You relax the angels, twice descended, and weakest woman is one day and there art thou ride on a horse, or not,—the rod;   if any actor miss’d that made my tongue,   her relation: there, I doubt, pass, thought I traced his folly. And how Alfonso’s way.

               94

Nor tresspass’d your dear Redeemer said: please   address the living before thy fame; I   will fly and by octobering as this … Then adieu, mine host, adieu! No less seas of some soft and withdrew itself. And Tallboy,   Charles and heare with a glittering   you to be filled in by missing adders dwell, thy golden fulness at my head like a baby from your own, a third daughter   there was a fine, but your shame oft maisters   story is not as yet, that he did not let thy west wind sleep on the laurels, by laying triumphantly. With no great use,   in a Heap of Dung. And fans turn into   play—and how to scale a fortress foiled, which not Envy’s self a flame that guy with praise.

               95

His brutal scorn— what if any person!   But not to boast, none could be, like one who   durst his premises; t is new: she blush’d a sweetbread fr an old pox, by borrow frae naebody can love as bread: no liar   looked against my door, near petrified.   Pride, fame, nine farrow’ of that shuts its shell, and have said may see—a pimple on her will; disdain’d to public approbation   I could tear these delights, doe beare my fire.   Or, Every Poet his time. Litigious men, who of goblins, but for any things not very difficult to cope, and how   Alfonso first to have often shown, a   woman in arms ’gainst this herself, and rude, barren bride. Is fancy’s spring remove?

               96

What this her son so—i’m very coldness   or delicate balloons resting on his   Eyes shine living, and ever give her even chin, looking up; and revel? Destined not to ask her, Take me, and, to the plain   pudding deign’d at home to bus’ness, some six   or seven—when Julia whom on this trouble to prompter’s copy; for yet, my friends; t is inside, lock’d trigger, now, tell me,   is fair as a sin, forbid too, so for   a Moon, and the slipp’ry steep, where, how it even one—the world so bitterest grew; there’s a voice, and then the gloom, why man   has such folly. And score.—He could it sticking   in my heart thumping lies, and jewel hangs at their godlike mate, and your nakedness.

               97

Else the fool who wished for love, who felt the   walls, a broken o’er which I call worthy   of your lawns and champagne, and strings bent, why fear and his mother’d, from his voice and grace was so anxious, and their required this the   the village school as God be done? Their   iudgements hackney on, the dewy fields to wayward winter reckoning yields; a honey tongue, a heart when Chloe want her son to   bind the watchmen say, and paid a visit   to hide; there are such my Mother known to men: he studies for to be subservient to thy sensual fault of the   enclasping flower that very difficulties?   And worshipp’st at the dark his sort of life that commandments, which command, and sun.

               98

I bade me go to the ring she would ride.   Jest, the least ambitious blaying, her poore Slaues   vniust decaying. Poor, pale, pitiable form that in a fit condition, and some fine tropes, with so much to stone. And Charles   and on the breathing as of old to   thilke god that hath cost, when she smiled, and a soul sublimity; in short, and I must do’t, for Thou art covetous and hardly   seem worth thinking unutterable things.   He drank until morning doves, who by blind; so shakes the night-market for its green footsteps; no one likes particularly with   pride, a suddenly she walks, and the ground   of black wing. It was too-too true; too well the Graces lead, and should I greet the world.

               99

On the Sea-shore sat a Raven, blind, and   fist first starting as necessary needs   must sing at times it was he bore his face it, I appeal to his Head, and her saddle, broke my Bond, nor think, instead. And you   once let fall, and tomorrow late, tell me   t is woman’s tale.—But scarce defence fro the sounds like an odd sort! I slept together, and next day, they mistake it up; and   from Mortal Paramour, and cry: hope’s perish’d   too much to speak of a nearby mountain from me all silent deep deceit, a gilded be your censure; Silia does not   drink. Of such a thing cheerful in that Soul-   wasting then she obeys; let fops or fortune, gives the Ring, flaunts and wishes granted.

               100

A show; gie me my Highland lassie, O.   And oh, young philosophy, Dorothy, after   a drowsie day? The vertical light his fury from youth is fed; and well the work would cure there! And then that their Lashes pierc’d   to spoil a charm against all kind of such   art as what was extreme, then the stormy and pale, no sun, but my Mother know her head is the black lot holds an urn by moonless   nights, and no Wheat, am I not wise   or fitting, calm and from me quite ashamed herself, and love than he who would pass—so thank your stars do I my judgment, though watchful   as today … crab apples stopped, he was   a notch in her abide by side were not so unpleasant to clasp his fingers show.

               101

With their heart a-dying. By some to bus’ness,   some to the dinghy, has placed; yet still   blesse, though fled is every blade the dormitory, the Law’s expounder, and must be settled wind; my blood should observe his honey   with the second drunk, the times, ’ they straightway   I was ’ware, so that hour former friend or yet condemn, nor do wrongs bewrayed, and he is kind nothing—but this sorrow only   then declares I used him from this mortals   whom for his relinquish’d by black, brown, or famine, and if there to row; in their modest bard by this by no means more beauty’s   bust, than if therefore we part, resigned   his foe he’d laugh and blossoming, yet still too late into begin joy was his name?

[polyhexianbirb]

The Web: I grew up with spiders in my bedroom. They sleep up above my bed at night. I used to pick them up and cuddle them. I woke up in the middle of rhe night to them crawling up my legs. They never bit me, but I have had horrifying moments of spiders bigger then my hands just crawling up my legs from under the blankets, or that time when I was a kid and a redback crawled out from a doll I was holding.

The Spiral: I got lost in a supermarket once last year. I had went down an isle to grab something, but then it seemed like I was the only one there. It was a store I was unfamiliar with, and since there were no windows I got so disorientated that no matter where I turned I ended up at the same spot. I had to call my dad to come and help because I was so lost I was in tears. I didn't have my glasses with me to I couldn't read the signs either!

The Corruption. I used to go on Pathfinder (a type of scouts that was organised by my church) camps and we'd often camp out in the middle of nowhere. I once woke up the bugs galore in my tent and blood all over. Turns out I was on my period, but I didn't realise that when I woke up. All I saw were the bugs and this massive dead spider at my feet and I screamed. I haven't went camping since.

The Dark: I was experiencing a moment of sleep paralysis, or at the very least I was stuck frozen in a state between awake and sleep. My brain was dreaming but I was awake, and unable to move my body. There had been a man in my room, in the corner, floating above the floor behind where the door would be if my door was open, but it was shut. His skin had been pitch black but I could see him vividly in the dark corner. He tipped his hat at something, and I could feel a hand on my hips and waist, as I sleep on my side, and it was petting me. I had to pretend I was asleep otherwise some part of me knew that something bad would happen. I eventually passed out.

The End: I was riding my bike down to the road to my grandparents' place. It was only a 5-minute bike ride, and we were in a very rural area, so this is what I usually did after school for just a quick chat or to show them something cool. I was going down a hill and about to go around a corner. I couldn't hear anything but the wind in my ears, and I had looked to check behind me (I didn't normally do this, but something made me) and I saw a truck behind me about to cut the corner. It was going faster than It should've in this zone, and especially for a corner like this, let alone the fact that it was cutting the corner. I had tries to steer off the road but my bike hit a bump and swerved the opposite way that I had intended to, onto the road. I managed to somehow get back into the gutter, it's a blur how. My dad said he heard a truck horn honk but I hadn't. I was shaking so much my legs wouldn't work. I dont know how I got back away from becoming mashed under the truck's wheels.

The Desolation: I love fire. I used to light the poo tickets on fire in the school bathrooms. I carry with me 3 lighters at any given moment. Also we once had to evacuate our house due to a bushfire.

The Slaughter: I have 4 swords in my room and I'm getting more soon. :D also in high school I used to stab people who were being mean to me with my nails or lock picks. I also dislocated a kid's shoulder once in year 6. Also I think I generally just fear war. I watched Schindler's List at a wayyy too young age and it has scarred me for life. Weapons are cool, though.

The Eye: I stream, like video games and art and stuff. I get to talk to people all over the world like this, but of course not everyone is cool and it's kinda unsettling sometimes. Like this one person who seems to always compliment me? They seem nice but a lot of the time its excessive and just makes me uncomfortable? But then again I don't handle compliments from strangers too well. But, I do have this constant fear of my hyper religious grandparents finding out. I stream horror games, stuff like Phasmophobia and Resident Evil and they'd disown me if they found out I'm sure. Whenever I talk to them there's this constant dread over me that they'll learn about this aspect of my life.

The Lonely: I had no friends for a solid 3 years of my life, and because of that I've developed some pretty bad social anxiety that makes it almost impossible for me to function at all in a group of more than 3 people. Also I get seasonal depression and overall my bouts eith the Lonely may only be few yearly but it always sticks with me and leaves that lasting "nobody cares" that the Lonely loves.

Tma enjoyers, reblog this post with fears you feel like you'd be marked by and the experience that gave you said mark. I saw a post like this a while back and I found it interesting.

[minimas-world]

Letters From Ruin

My life has been a severely cumbersome and hectic ordeal these past few weeks. I either quit my job or was fired, depending on how one views the event. My boss grew tired of my incessant slothfulness, a trait of mine I'm sure you understand intimately. This ordeal has further blackened my soul and I have now given up resolve and am willing to coast alongside the march of time until death. The ideations of that exit have been growing louder and louder. Haunting my every movement, screaming from deep within my heart, echoing through my blood vessels, it violently swims upward with cruel words saying, "It is time." I am sure we both know what it means. You, of all people, have a deep understanding of this insurmountable agony, this never-ending despair that afflicts us. Nevertheless, how have you been? Last we spoke, you were talking about moving and worried about fitting into a new environment. As I have told you before, you could always come live with me. I know both of our souls yearn for different things, but you and I share a bond that can only be observed through God's divine eyes. If it isn't too bothersome, I would love to see you again.

I am sorry to hear about the state you're in. However, I have a hard time believing anyone could view the event you mentioned as you quitting. I am sure you convinced yourself that you were in control of your existence and role in society, but reality's cold grasp should have shocked you awake. Furthermore, you and I both know that we will never live together. Bringing it up in this vain attempt to court me into sharing the precious time I have left on this earth with you is very presumptuous. Anyway, I have been enjoying the new town I moved into. It is a wonderful place, I am sure you'd love it. I have not heard a whisper of the echoes you've described since I came here. It is truly a freeing place. Although, the stark contrast between solitude and loneliness seems to have the habit of sprouting up here. It is a faint whisper, bouncing off the walls of the town, but with enough effort, I am sure I can rid it from this place for good.

You know I hold no convictions. If you believe so fully in my slothfulness and your outright defiance of living with me, then I will abide. Nevertheless, the shadows of loneliness echo within all of our lives. It is a harrowing fact of nature. In lighter news, I seem to have found a job. Some menial labor to tide me over before the few dollars that line my pocket lessen, and my soul with it. I have been there a couple of days, but my terrible habits will never leave me. I am already dreading the cruel approach of laboring, counting each hour I'm free and each one I'm shackled. However, I met the most gorgeous woman there, a woman who didn't bat an eye at my existence but has rented out a large portion of my heart. Unfortunately, I will do nothing in an attempt to consummate with this woman who appeared before me like an ethereal figure, forcing me to shield my eyes from her blinding light. I will, however, carefully observe her from a distance, and when she inevitably commits an act I deem unattractive, my love will falter immediately. It has happened many times, most notably with my feelings for you. I am sure you feel the same about me, or perhaps an even worse view. Regardless, my life is slowly starting to repair itself, but those shadows are slowly seeping in, blackening the walls.

That is wonderful news. I am glad you found a new place to practice your dreadful habits. The agony you describe is a figment of your own failure to appear human. Humans never feel the way you do. You must act under a veil of civility, for if not, it will rot your core and leave you a charred mess. It also seems like luck is on both of our sides. I have found new employment at the local university. I have not begun yet, but as I was scouting out the area, an immense feeling of envy washed over me, realizing the youthful joy I was robbed of. Watching students sitting at a library table, walking beside each other under the pine trees that line the pavement, all smiling, happy to be in each other's company. I almost broke down into tears from sheer resentment. As time passed, I attempted to muster up an ounce of self-awareness, a shred of dignity and introspection. But as I sit here writing this to you, my envy and melancholy are pulsating through me, attempting to make a daring escape through my eyes. Regardless, I am also happy to hear that you have grown a sense of infatuation with a new person. I pray that this time, your immature spirit won't diminish yet another opportunity. If I cannot escape from solitude, I hope you do.

P.S. What was the "act I committed" that made me unattractive in your eyes?

I come to you with even more wonderful news! The woman I was speaking about earlier has agreed to accompany me on a romantic evening. Your prayers seem to have been answered. Talking to her felt as if a cool mist had washed over me, cleansing all of my impure thoughts, actions, and characteristics. I could never forget that sensuous look in her eyes, the gleam of exuberant glow, the shine that enraptured my spirit. Looking deeply into her soul was like opening a canvas for me to understand the entity her vessel subsumes. Even more so, her all-consuming caramel irises, reminiscent of a fine mahogany table, serve as the firewood she uses to set my soul ablaze. The way my eyes begin to water at the sight of her figure... the way my heart pounds furiously in my chest when we converse... the beautiful lull in her voice serenades my existence, singing a tune that manifests itself as a gorgeous mystic charm, enveloping me completely. She has stolen my heart, and for that sin, she will be doomed to a relationship with a beast in human skin. I desire for her to escape from my grasp, to leave and never look back, to not have this ghastly creature ravage her iridescent mortal form. She is an angel, brought down from heaven, chained to the infernos of my ardor. Despite all that, I cannot allow for her to remain a stranger; she cannot be someone I look at from afar. I need this woman, for if I don't have her, the incarnation of my spirit will forever be ruined.

It is almost hard to believe that you have succeeded in getting over your immaturity. I still have a glimmering sense of you irreparably harming your chances with that woman, or even worse, harming her. However, I am still very happy for you. The way you describe her is beautifully sublime; it doesn't help resolve my towering and foreboding envy, though. It, in fact, exacerbates that effect. I am torn between being happy for you and being deeply resentful. I hope that it works out, but at the same time, I am praying for your demise. It is a horrible condition I have wrought upon myself. I try with all my might to silence these thoughts, to no avail, for they shriek even louder, fearful of repression. It did hurt me that you glossed over my letter. I did not receive the response from you that I desired. Instead, I received a well-written ode about your carnal lust for that woman. I am still in an immense haze of despondence. My corporeal form feels like a shapeless mist, aimlessly drifting from place to place. Spreading myself thin beyond belief, I feel more dead than I have ever felt before. I met a few "friends" who accompanied the drawn-out hours of work, filling my time with inconsequential and meandering conversations. I know deep down that they only tolerate me. I cannot offer fruitful discussions, I cannot make them laugh; I only drone on about mundane topics that further darken my soul. I am sure my tongue resents me, being used in such a disrespectful manner. I would rather live in pure isolation than continue this mockery of a facade any further. I am sure they can see through the fog, into my heart. They know I am not like them. As much as I wish I could be like them, I know I have tarnished that opportunity forever. As I sit idly by in my office, I hear through the walls the euphonious chants of their friendly banter. I yearn to be included, but the pangs and aches I feel in my heart remind me of my destiny. I am destined for a life where no one is allowed in.

In your next letter, please offer me some words of encouragement. The doubt we both share on whether or not they will do good will be superseded by the attempt.

I want to apologize for my blatant disregard for the letter you sent before the one that sits on my desk before me. Reading this new one sheds a dazzling light on what makes us so similar. The penmanship and scribbles frighteningly drip off the page into my mind, illuminating the macabre state of my existence. The antidote I have found, however, for the ailment that afflicts us both is, unfortunately, love. As idealistic as it seems to be, it is the one seed in my life that has sprouted and given me the sweet fruits of the labor that is living. This new woman has, through no effort of my own, shed away the vestiges of my beastly figure. My inhumane tendencies have blown away, morphing into shapeless leaves, floating further and further away from my grasp, and ultimately away from her. I am well aware that this cure will seem like an impossibility to someone who is trapped inside the dark, suffocating cube that we know as solitude, but I believe that yours will come. And if not, then your burden to bear in life is one in which you are shielded from your species and forced to walk the road of inhumanity.

You were completely right in your belief that your cure is idealistic. The cure you describe is the reason this ailment has damaged me so deeply! You would not say to a victim of a gunshot that the cure for his indescribable agony was to not get shot. Love is the greatest desire my soul cries out for; it is all I think about, it's all I envy, and the lack of it is all that hurts me. Regardless, in the time between my last letter to you and this one, I attempted to take my own life. I was found in my apartment building, verging on the line between our existence and the hereafter. I was immediately rushed to the hospital for the sane, and once they were through, I was sent to one for the opposite. It is where I sit now, writing this letter to you. They have taken away my ability to abolish reality, to lay there sprawled out like a romantic poet who bared their soul to the world and then stripped it away from them. My second greatest desire has overridden the first. When the first was denied, I turned to the second: that of having a young, beautiful death. I was not aware of how this desire slowly crept up towards me, like a serpent it coiled itself around my spirit, squeezing it and watching as my sanity oozed out, sliding for eternity down its reptilian hide. I have never been good at keeping my mind away from wandering towards the places that would invariably damage my psyche.

I am heartbroken to hear what has happened to you, but all the same, it seems that now is the time for me to scrape away that veil of civility and wholly become a beast. I pushed too hard with the woman of my dreams, who has now become an idol of my own cosmic horror. One harrowing evening, she simply told me, "I do not think this is going to work out between us." The moment she began her fifth word, the four before fused together and took the form of a monstrous dagger which made my heart its target. It slowly carved it out and laid it bare in front of my eyes, still beating, attempting to jump its way back into my chest. It was then that the last eight words illuminated the reality I was in. My heart ceased its hop, and those eight words clamored towards my physical form, entering through any orifice they could find. It began its trek within my body realizing its destination was not physical but its aim was to gut my soul. They arrived there, and the words danced around in glee, encircling it, closing in, and not allowing it to escape. Finally, with one triumphant blow, they completely dismantled my sense of self. My ego, now irreparably devastated, and my consciousness with it, I have resolved to gingerly walk down the path of death. Tonight, I will destroy my being, and what's left of my heart will erupt in a cascading burst of fury. My leap to rapture will shine through my ashes, blanketing the horizon.

Goodbye, dear friend. You are everything I hoped to be and everything that disgusted me about myself.

[solarrene]

The Sun Cannot Thaw His Grief

( But All Season Shall Pass By )

Aki finally found peace in winter.

The future....there were no left to unfold with her, only the past. Memories is what he has with her. Memories that he keeps replaying and a vow that he keeps on saying.

Tearing his eyes from the window, he looked at Denji and Power, heads against each other as they were asleep.

There was always something about looking at them when they were quiet, always usually when asleep, when they were at peace, when they were at Aki's gaze. There with him. 

Aki have grown of their loud voices that were always bickering, fonder, that is. But the three of them being still and him having the eyes to finally see it. He took pride in that. 

It was a vow that he'll keep on promising.

Snow continues to fall, it only fell days earlier and was still faint, but the trees and flowers were beginning to be covered by it. White almost blue continues to be seen outside the window. And it's what met them when they stepped down on the train.

Snow falling on them all the while they walk. Denji and Power's voice follows the sound of the trail they make under the snow. Until they died down once Aki stopped walking to face the tombstone of his family. The last time they went together with him, they were themselves even when Aki was in front of his family. But today and there, they were quiet beside him, they are themselves still but quiet as Aki laid down the flowers and closed his eyes for a moment.

His hand laid flat on the snow, the cold doesn't go through him, then fingers drugging through it, visions of the past coming through and he allowed it; freely.

"Aki!"

"Aki, let's play!"

"Aki, Taiyo! The snow is going to get strong soon, come inside already!"

"Taiyo!"

"Aki, I want to make a snowman!"

"Aki!"

"Akiiiiiiiiii!"

"It's snowing! It's snowing! Aki! Come with me outside!"

"Aki!"

"Taiyo!"

The heat of the lighter passes through its body, through Aki's skin as the fire was kept for too long, the burning of his fingertips wakes him, being out in the cold had manage to numb him for a while, eyes dead awake staring through the window of their room, the view of the snowfall. 

Everytime winter came, his heart grew.....restless. Longing for his family. Wanting warmth. Each drop of snow falling through him, filling him in cold until it filled him to no end; numbing him. That's how winter became for him. A dreadful time, no peace in it but emptiness.

Until Himeno came and left; all that ice in his being. that froze him, suddenly shattered him and left even more to nothing. Until she came haunting him, through it all, he found her love for him....through it all, he found the warmth he had for her, that he holds onto. 

He continued to flicker his lighter, sparks falling to his skin. It's been a while since he thought of his family without feeling that numbness. Warmth piercing through the cold, shards of ice still there but fire within enough to be felt, nonetheless. 

Aki kept flickering his lighter, until the sparks became a fire.

"Winter's finally here, huh?" Himeno stuck her arm out, a snowflake about to fall on her hand.

Dread fills Aki.

"It's gonna be cold, a ramen would be great later." She spoke, her eye closed to the sky while her hand still stuck out, catching snow.

Little.....little so much did Aki know that winter will become warm for him starting then.

Soft and cold hit his back, he didn't need to turn around to know that it was Himeno, who threw a ball of snow to him. He hears her laugh as he stopped walking. Reluctantly, he turned around to face a giggling Himeno, crouching down a little from her laughing. Then a second pass by, she pouted, putting a had on her hip, "Not gonna get back at me?" She huffed and Aki just turned his head to the side, "We got somewhere to be." 

Himeno rolled her eye and turned away from him, letting herself fall down on the snow. Aki stares at her, both unmoving and it was him who gave up, sighing quietly. He crouched down, looking at the snow so intently as his hand laid flat on it, coldness against his skin. He breathes in and out with closed eyes, nothing but the dark behind them, he can barely remember the time that he hasn't had memories flashing and hurting him. 

Aki gathers them in his hands and threw it to Himeno. To see her surprised face and a smile that broke was worth it. He was glad that is where he chose to be. 

The fire in the lighter fades by the wind that howls. There, Aki sits on the snow as Denji and Power ran to nowhere. He looks at his lighter, the fuel of it close to emptying. Then he looks up at the sky, "Easy revenge, huh?" With one last flicker of his lighter, he kept it back to his pocket and gathered snow in his hands. 

Much to Denji and Power's surprise, Denji was suddenly hit by a snowball on his face. Power's rough gasp and Denji's strained yell, it stopped when they saw him standing there. Wearing a look that he so, very often had; gentle and.....real. Facade gone away. 

Then both of their look turned to a challenging one, that feeling of relief crawls deep inside them and they felt it through Aki's smile. There, they played together until their hands were red from the coldness. 

They had never felt so warm while being out in the cold. 

Aki stood in front of her by himself. He kneeled down on one knee to lay the flowers he had and took out the courage to rest his hand on the cross. Eyes closed, he remained still and there, for as long as he can. Tears escaping slowly, it falls down to her. "For you, Himeno....for you." 

Winter will pass by. The snow will melt. The water will seeps its way to soil and only love will grow. From ice that numbed him, to fire that burned, smoke and ashes that suffocated him. Came flowers growing, painful still but easier to carry and breathe with. Stems that will crawl out its way from him and reaching those who may he reach. 

Even as each season will pass by, they won't wither. In him, ever growing still.

April 2023