#to this day the only thing i feel like i can easily draw is horses
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dykeofalltrades · 1 year ago
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i think the reason im like This is bc the first thing i ever figured out how to draw was horses and i watched astrophysics documentaries on science and discovery channel religiously. there is so much bullshit in the world and isnt that beautiful
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irisinluv · 2 months ago
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Eric Minisode #1
Parts 1 & 2 from Eric’s perspective. I drafted this before my hiatus and while I still don’t know when I’ll write part 3…. Figured this deserves to leave the drafts.
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She’s in my mother’s drawing room…. And I can’t say I’m upset. I watched her peek into a couple of rooms, curious to see my betrothed outside our usual hours. She seems…. Different than usual. More lively and curious. But then I suppose the only times we interact are at opposing ends of the grand hall, or at balls and social events where we must host and entertain. I know small details about her- like she loves to ride horses, spends her days in her personal drawing room working on embroidery and other ladylike things…. But they’re generic details I could guess at from any lady of the court.
It’s fascinating watching her when she’s in her own element… I can’t help but slip into the drawing room after her. She’s examining mother’s pottery with a small smile, seemingly lost in thought. I’m glad someone’s admitting mothers work- as a child, I’d often watch as she carefully worked the clay, teaching me how to mold it just right, and then watched in amazement as she would glaze it a few days later in intricate designs.
I watch my betrothed giggle to herself and I can’t resist revealing myself,
“What’s so amusing dearest?”
Oh…. Well this is fascinating. She always speaks with such careful measure, as if each word is thought out. She gets flustered on occasion, I have noticed that much, but she responds by stopping to collect herself before carrying on with the same careful grace.
This current version of my beloved is much more…. Open. I’m not sure she even notices how easily I can read her like a book- is this what she’s like when caught off guard? Perhaps I have misjudged my beautiful bride…. I can’t help the thrill the runs through me knowing I’ve surprised her, caused this shift. This thrill turns to shock as she asks to spend the day with me in the library. I see I’m not the only one who can catch the other off guard….
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I can’t help but stare at her as she reads. This feels like a dream. I assumed we would have a polite yet distanced relationship, this is, after all, a marriage of convenience. But in the past several months I couldn’t help but admire her poise, the way she commands a room, and couldn’t help but latch onto the little details I’d been able to learn from her. Now, she’s here, in my library, curled up in my favorite chair, so enthralled by her reading that I can see who she truly is under her noble lady facade. And I suddenly find it rather hard to focus on my work. This feels so natural, so right, I wonder why we’ve limited ourselves to such formal meetings this far if what we both seem to crave is simply companionship? How have I not noticed how much she, too, wanted this?
With that thought… I invite her to luncheon and a stroll. I noticed her admiring a painting of a rose garden and I couldn’t get the picture of her under the rose pavilion out of my head… so that’s where I plan to take her. And that’s where we were heading until a rather unpleasant interruption arrived.
I recognized her, the ambassadors daughter. What was more important, however, was the sight of my intended, sprawled on the ground, skirts pooled around her, pushing herself up on her arms, face crinkled in slight pain, and throwing out a blind insult... yet another layer beneath that porcelain mask… my love is a spitfire. I lifted her to her feet, admiring the way it felt so natural to have her in my arms, before letting her go.
The offensive rodent who caused my dearest to go flying was simpering at me, and I couldn’t help the disgust that ran through me- she was completely ignoring the one she had offended, instead was directing her apologies towards me. I exchanged looks with the princess and she spoke before I had the chance.
What a tongue that woman has on her… I know it is my role as the gentleman to defend her honor, but I’ve realized my new favorite hobby is simply observing her. She so easily defended her honor, reminding the lower class woman of her station, and I couldn’t help the thrill that when through me as she referred to herself as the soon to be crown princess. So easily asserted her claim on the throne, on me.
The thrill only continued as she surprised me yet again, grabbing my hand and leading me away. I couldn’t help the look I sent toward the ambassador’s daughter, despite being enamored all the more by my soon to be wife, I can’t overlook that she was hurt and insulted. I’d be remembering this. But, that was for another time. For now, I was being dragged down the hall by my beautiful rose. When she finally released me, the blush on her cheeks was so divine…. I couldn’t help but think of all the ways I might fluster her more so I might see it again.
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In one day I have discovered that the woman who has sat across from me each dinner for the last several months, is in fact, my soulmate. Just like I pictured, she looked divine under the roses- admitting they were her favorite. I noted which foods she gravitated towards as well- and realized we shared several favorites, and that she was unbearably adorable trying to hide how much she was enjoying herself.
I don’t believe I’ve ever been in such high spirits as when I returned to my quarters after an afternoon of memorizing the way her smile crinkled her eyes, laughing alongside her as she told me all about her novel, and receiving her rapt attention as I spoke of my day in return.
When I go down to dine with her I find myself flustered… I’ve never before felt this strongly about a woman, and now all I can think of is how the wedding couldn’t come sooner. My mood is dampened, however, we begin to eat, and I see that porcelain mask of hers creeping back up. I realize it now, how our arrangement thus far has actively hindered our relationship. Sitting this far from one another feels like miles of agony, I feel as if I’m addressing a crowd each time I speak, my voice carrying across the vast expanse. The quiet intimacy of the rose pavilion and our two chairs around the tea table, the sound of her pages and subtle inhales as she became engrossed in a new turn in her book, the feel of her arm in mine as we strolled. These things, and the cold, formal way we were currently dining, did not match.
She excused herself to bed, and I imagine she felt the same disappointment I did- I longed to see her face clearer as she sampled the roast pork- did her eyes flutter the way they had when she took a bite of that lemon desert earlier today? Or did her nose crinkle as she disguised her distaste? These are details I cannot know from afar. These are details I must learn.
I meet with the head waitstaff and fix this immediately. From now on, my dearest love and I shall hardly be apart if I can help it.
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Also I’m not gonna resume the tag list till this series officially comes back…. I’m not gonna tease that many of y’all with an @ when it’s just a draft post.
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lookingfts · 2 months ago
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And lastly, here's a regency fic I started a while ago and would actually love to finish someday. It loosely follows canon, but with the twist that Anthony can see visions of the future, and tries to stay away from Kate because he thinks it will end badly.
Dark, glittering eyes. Like the full moon reflecting upon a calm ocean.
She is lovely – this woman. The woman. Anthony cannot explain the sensation that washes over him the first time he sees her, at seven and twenty, sleeping fitfully next to another woman – a mistress. A young widow who sends word whenever she is in town.
The haughty tilt of a sharp chin. A smug smile that graces plush lips.
She is on a horse, the sky misty and gray around them. The woman has bested him somehow, he thinks, as he watches her ride away. Breathless.
Anthony dreams of many women. Some of whom he has met, others who are simply figments of a lonely, fractured imagination.
None that feel so significant, though.
XX
It is three months before he sees her again. In a sheer white nightgown, hair falling in thick waves over her shoulders. She looks different like this, eyes wide and open. Vulnerable.
Lightning flashes through the windows of his father’s library, illuminating the sculpted angles of her face that have somehow gone soft. She is holding one of Edmund’s favorite books in graceful hands, and he takes it. Tells her about his father.
Tells her about the most devastating moment of his life.
Something draws them together, as strong as gravity binds them to the earth. The woman’s eyes fall to his lips, and Anthony-
Anthony wants. He is desperate to hold her, to feel her body pressed to his, filling the cracks and crevices that only seem to grow wider with time. He is desperate to kiss her, to feel the softness of her lips and draw little moans from her throat that will surely drive him senseless.
He wants every piece of her, so badly he cannot breathe for it.
But she does not want him. A crack of thunder shatters the spell between them and she runs.
Far away from him. As everyone always has.
XX
He sees so much more.
A ball, a dance, her eyes boring into his as he holds her as though it would kill him to let go.
A breath shared between them. Night and day, I dream of you.
Hot skin beneath his palms, flawless, glowing. The curve of her body fitting perfectly into his. Need, so much need, so much desire that Anthony fears he will break apart with the force of it.
It is not enough. These pitiful fragments. A taste of heaven before it is ripped from his grasp.
But he is certain, now, that he is not simply dreaming. She is real.
XX
The visions began when he was sixteen. Blurry, half-remembered dreams easily chalked up to déjà vu.
Benedict tossing a sputtering Colin into the lake.
Edmund bringing home a bouquet of yellow daisies for Violet.
Francesca playing the piano for Anthony when she was too shy to do it for anyone else.
And then-
The damn thing stung me.
His father pale, choking, collapsing in his arms.
His mother begging him not to leave.
His life changing, in the blink of an eye.
Anthony vomited when he awoke, face wet with tears. It was the worst dream he could have imagined.
Three weeks after, his nightmare came true.
XX
He had seen his father’s death in excruciating detail, and he could not save him. Did not even think he needed saving, because true visions of the future seemed…preposterous.
What was the purpose of such a gift, if he could do nothing to change the great tragedy that destroyed his family? Was that not a curse, a crushing burden of guilt that was impossible to carry on his weary shoulders?
Anthony became the Viscount. And he worked, pushing aside the part of him that never seem very far from a mental break. Worked to the point of exhaustion, worked until he was miserable.
That was the only recompense for his failure. He was not worthy of a life of happiness, of love, of passions.
He had been given a chance to save his father. To save his mother from her fathomless sadness, to save Hyacinth from the emptiness of never knowing such a great man.
The universe gave him an opportunity to protect the life of someone he loved dearly, and he squandered it. He would not receive another.
XX
She is real.
Awareness prickles at the edges of his memory as he chases the mysterious stranger. Has she lost control of her horse? Is someone chasing her? The world can be an unkind place to women traveling alone.
She jumps effortlessly over the brush and turns to face him. Drops her hood.
Dark, glittering eyes. Like the full moon reflecting upon a calm ocean.
The haughty tilt of a sharp chin. A smug smile that graces plush lips.
She has bested him, he realizes, as he watches her ride away. Breathless.
Anthony feels the cool morning air on his skin, the tension of the reins in his hands. This is not another vision.
He cannot believe she is here, this woman he has dreamed of for two long years. This beautiful, ethereal creature that has made his heart pound innumerable times, even as a mere ghost in his mind.
It pounds so desperately now that he half thinks he may collapse.
Anthony is helpless but to follow her. “Enjoying your victory lap?” he says, smirking at the way she startles and curses under her breath in another language. Hindi, perhaps. “You will not be afforded such an ample head start this time, I assure you.”
“Apologies, sir. I did not mean to cause anyone concern.” Her voice is lovely, crisp and melodic. Though he has heard it in his dreams, the reality far surpasses anything he could conjure.
It is strange. Unthinkably strange. The things he could say to her.
I know how you fit perfectly in my arms when we dance.
I know how you flinch during violent storms.
I know how it sounds when you gasp in pleasure.
For she knows nothing of him. He is a blank slate, a man no different than any other. She has not seen the life they could live. “Are you lost? I shall escort you back to town-.”
“I am not lost,” she says acidly. The bite in her voice is – thrilling, truly. They have spoken for mere minutes, and yet Anthony does not believe he has ever met a woman like her. “I am on my way back to Mayfair. It is just ahead.”
Anthony laughs. “Mayfair? Well, then.”
“I appreciate your attention, sir, but I assure you I am perfectly safe. So perhaps we can pretend this encounter never took place. You allow me to go my way, and you go yours.”
That cannot be, he wants to say. We are bound.
Anthony is no great believer in love. He knows it to be true, to be real. Only a fool could dismiss the connection between his parents, one that surpassed even death.
But he is unworthy of such a love. And even if he was, he does not know if it would be a blessing or a curse. Its capacity for pain is equal to that of its joy.
This woman, though – she is different. He has dreamed of many women, but none so often, none so desperately. Anthony does not even know her name, yet he feels as though he has stumbled upon something that will irrevocably transform the life he knows.
So he bickers lightly with her, enjoys the tinkling laugh he manages to extract from her stern countenance. He thinks perhaps she does not dislike him as much as she pretends to. All too soon, she rides off, leaving him confused and wanting in her wake. “We have not yet been introduced!”
“I am afraid that is not possible. Not when I have a victory lap to enjoy!” she shouts behind her, and Anthony cannot help but grin at her retreating form.
XX
His thoughts are filled with her. This woman who laughs like an angel and taunts him like the devil. This woman who stuns and challenges him, smoky bitterness and honey sweetness.
Anthony itches to learn more about her, considers asking around about the new family in Mayfair. But he will let their story play out how it must. If there is one thing he is certain of, it is that they will meet again.
There will be lust. He remembers the sensation of drowning in it. And a great deal more. His emotions are jumbled in visions, hazy and out of focus, but he remembers pieces. Remembers, most of all, the way his heart seemed to swell beyond the boundaries of his chest as she shuddered in his arms.
A single thought, emanating from somewhere deep in his mind. Finally.
How long does he wait for her?
XX
Cold rain plastering his skin.
A horse rearing in the air.
Kate.
He wakes.
Anthony climbs out of bed, paying no attention to the early hour. He will not be able to return to sleep.
Every blink forces the image of her on the ground, cold and lifeless, blood seeping from her head.
And he knows. Deep in his soul.
These images are not of a great love story. They are what he has always feared. Visions of another death, one that he will be helpless to stop.
He bangs his fist against the wall and bites back a shout for the sake of not disturbing his family. Anthony knows he has not always been a good man, but he cannot imagine what he has done to deserve this torment. Why must he be haunted with this knowledge? Has he not suffered enough already?
Anthony thinks of the woman. Kate.
The heat in her eyes as they lock with his, a thousand words passing between them silently.
The softness of her when her armor is gone, when she lets him see her true heart.
The gentle caress of her fingers against his face, making him feel worthy. Valuable.
It cannot be allowed. Any of it. He has seen himself at her final moments, the unshakeable conviction that all of it is his fault. The only course is to cut off their path before it begins, to keep himself away from her at all costs.
Anthony laughs at his own selfishness. He does not want to give her up, knowing all they will experience together.
But he will do it, in the meager hope that it can change the tide and spare her life. And if it changes nothing-
Well, then, at least he will be spared witnessing the death of someone he loves for a second time.
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jackiezenauthor · 4 months ago
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Illustration by me.
Complete image will be available on my bluesky account. Full resolution image will be available on my Patreon once I figure out how to post on it from my tablet and how 'by item' subscription works to everyone's benefit (so u don't have to pay per just one drawing and I don't have to stress about posting monthly even though I probably will). I'll keep you updated
In the saddle
🔞 Minors DNI, ty.
Story posted on A03 as well, I won't remove it from there even if Tumblr goes entirely purity-mode one day.
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Genre: Paranormal erotica
Word count: 3k
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Cw: you pov, stink enjoying mc, mild self degrading mc, containment, dubcon (?), stranger danger, haunted item (lmk if I missed anything important, ty)
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This is a work of fiction!
No haunted items were harmed for the writing of this story.
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Synopsis: Some people enjoy LARPing and historical items. You take that a few steps further. Tonight, you have your eyes on a saddle so old, they even think it's haunted. You don't believe in such nonsense, but you might be proven wrong...
‘Tonight is THE night!’ you tell yourself as you head for the stables with the dimmest light you could manage, just enough so you don’t step on any unfortunate animals, but not enough to alert anyone else nearby.
You've been working at the farm for a few weeks now, and pulled your weight rather well too, if you might say so yourself. They expected a lot more complaining from your rich ass, raised in the big city, hydrated on cocktails around the pool, but they had no idea how much you found yourself loving the place. Among other things.
The smells, the animals, the sounds, the feeling of dirt under the manicure that you’ve already cut short as soon as you heard about your parents’ plans for your summer…
Not to say you couldn’t say no to them. Not only are you old enough to live on your own already, despite the struggles that cooking for yourself still raises, but you know exactly how low to lower your lip and scrunch your eyebrows at your parents to have them give up any ill will that they might hold against you. Deserved or not.
You didn’t do it this time.
They thought it was because you were finally willing to take responsibility for your irresponsible choices, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
The true reason was waiting for you in the barn. Quiet, rugged from overuse, smelling like anything but the leather that it’s made of: a saddle so old, nobody could tell how it even got there in the first place.
‘Might as well be part of the ole land, at this point’ their grandmother had said.
‘I reckon it outlived five barns now,’ the grandfather had said.
‘Word is, it’s haunted’ their daughter had said. ‘Don’t go looking about the barn if ye hear any ungodly noises, hear me?’
There were no ungodly noises to hear, as you stepped closer and brushed your fingers all across its unkept seat… yet.
If all went well tonight and nobody went by the barn, same as both weeks you’ve been around now, some ungodly sounds might come out… out of your mouth, that is.
Despite its mysterious age, the saddle holds perfectly fine as you move it from its resting wedge and onto the saddle rack closest to the height you need for your plans. Smells like sweat, tobacco, horses and filthy things that you can only guess, and you can feel your body tingling with anticipation, as you muse about adding your own filth to it.
There’s beauty in old things. You’ve always had a fondness to them, to the stories they might have lived through, the people who might have touched them. And old things in places as simple and unassuming as this, you can get to know them in ways that others might frown about… personal ways…
A horse whinnies in the pasture nearby and a dog barks with little conviction. You can hear the wind rustle the trees and grass around, but nothing human, nothing that could spoil your fun.
It’s time.
Your night gown drops off you easily and the hay and dirt on the floor sticks to your naked soles. There might be something wet on the ground too, and it makes you feel dirty. A smirk pushes at the corners of your mouth. The barn smells like it should: dung, dried herbs, old iron, spent wood, grains and leather…
The saddle is rough against your belly as you wiggle your way on it. Not sitting, like one should, but bent across it, like a damsel kidnapped by some rugged wild west men, ready to rob some train, lose all their loot in the pub, and brawl over which one gets to show you a good time first, not necessarily in that order.
Maybe the one carrying you might not even wait until you stop anywhere…
You bite your lip as your breasts hang down, your attempts at adjusting your position without touching the ground, as you would on a horse, making them jump, gravitation pulling against them. Your heart takes off as your imagination mingles with reality, the saddle under you easing you in the scene. It’s perfect like this, you know exactly what you want to hear, how to be held. Imaginary or not, you know you’re in for a really good time.
Touching yourself over the saddle sounded much easier in your mind, but you’ve been eyeing this saddle for far too long to have come unprepared. There’s something already inside you, just waiting for your instruction… at one press of a button…
Your smart watch is dead.
You could have sworn it was fully charged when you left your room in the farmhouse. You’ve been so meticulous too, made sure it worked on Bluetooth alone, if the signal was to fail you. There’s a manual switch too..
If only…
If only you could reach around…
A rag and what could only have been another saddle fall from a rack above and miss you by a scrape of your head, taking off your hair tie. That’s lucky. It could have taken off your conscience too, was it to fall any closer. Or worse? That would be a fun way to hit the news… good thing you wouldn’t be there to see it.
You could get off, start the vibrator, and get back on before you hit the first orgasm. Would be harder to stop or control it, but that sounds rather exciting, now that you think about it. Your misfortune turned out for much better instead.
You can’t get off.
Your toes can almost touch the ground, but your ribcage can’t pass through the space between the racks. They must have misaligned when that saddle tried to end your career…
Oh, no…
“Well, I’ll be darned…” a distinctly male voice vibrates in the silence of the barn, just as you were trying to turn around enough to see what’s keeping that blasted rack from moving off you.
Fuck!
You got so distracted with your fantasies, you forgot to pay attention to your surroundings. You’ve never gotten caught before. Today was the day.
“You look rather… tight, miss?” the man speaks again, from right behind you.
The racks are blocking your view and the hair in your face and the darkness of the night aren’t helping either. Moonlight doesn’t reach in the back of the barn, where he is. You don’t know his voice either. Who, and most importantly, why would they be here at this time of the night? Had he been here this all time? Watching you undress? Climbing in? Struggling?
He rests a hand against the rack that’s holding you pinned, but it doesn’t budge. You know he’s moving behind you, but you can’t hear any steps. Even if he was barefoot too, the floor should creak…
You do feel his hand caressing your waist, however, from right under your trapped ribcage.
“You could scream, ya know? I reckon someone would come help…” he says, his hand slowly following your hip and spine, his touch cold like the night air. You should be scared, but it makes you feel reassured somehow. Like you're some horse he’s trying to befriend… a very caught-red-handed horse…
You want to point out that he could help you himself, since he’s already here, but your voice cuts off when his other hand mirrors the first and his fingers dig into your ass, lifting you up for a closer look.
“What in tarnation?” he huffs and his breath travels all between your thighs.
He must’ve seen your vibrator and you’d like to tell him a thing or two about minding his own business, but he also found the button for it and your feet instantly raise and tremble as the stimulation hits you without warning. You hate to admit it but this entire situation… it works.
You curl against the saddle and jolt as you come before you can even remember yourself. The vibration keeps going as you do, and you can’t help but whine in humiliation and ecstasy as you come again, right between the strangers hands, his grip unyielding as you shake. He must be enjoying it. Seeing you writhe like this. Helpless. Trapped.
“You alright there, miss?” he asks while you come a third time.
You can taste the amusement in his tone, but his voice is low, his every word pronounced just a bit too carefully… He’s past just enjoying this.
There should be a remission time after you’ve come five times in a row, but you’ve never done that in front of someone else… your lower half entirely in their hands… Their eyes catching ever twitch of your pussy. You can’t even tell if your heart is racing or just took off on its own at this point.
You’re never going to hear the end of this, if word comes out.
“Please… stop it!” you manage to say between tears and gasps, too many emotions rushing for your attention at once while your ass is twitching so high in the air.
“Why, I thought you put that there plumb on purpose…” he chuckles but the vibration stops before you can start curling again. “Le’me give ya a hand then…”
A moan escapes your throat as you feel your vibrator pulled out of you, slow but deliberate, the orgasm you were heading for before he turned it off, revived within you. You can’t stop yourself from grinding against his other arm, as it stands right between your legs, supporting your belly.
You barely register your toy hitting the floor as you writhe in the stranger’s palm, his hold against you steady, despite your juices already spilled all between your thighs, much more still flowing out of you and all across his arm. You can feel him breathe against the curve of your back: cold but slow, heavy. It makes sense, a weak, rational thought passes your mind, but the animal, feral side of you is nothing but delighted to be met in kind.
Now that there’s nothing inside you, your body frets, demands… there’s nothing inside you…
“I reckon…” his voice is so low, he sounds like purring and your pussy throbs against his arm as the vibration trickles across your skin. “t’wasn’t bein’ stuck that ailed ya… and ya done made your problem mine, lass…”
He lifts your ass higher in the air, his hand still under you, your clit jumping to attention as it rubs against his wrist. You could die of embarrassment. But maybe… not just yet…
You try your best to keep from trembling and moaning as his other hand brushes across your innermost thigh and his thumb slips between the folds of your already tender pussy. It finds your entrance easily and he pauses by it, pressing to go in but not quite. Hesitant. He growls in a language you’ve never heard before and pulls his thumb away, straightening up and dropping you gently. He’s no longer touching you. Worse: he’s taken a step back.
After all of this?
Is he going to just up and leave you like this?
Would he at least set you free before, or will you have to endure the horror of being found in the morning, hopefully by anyone other than the grandma.
But you can hear cloth and metal, maybe leather?
“I won’t force myself upon you, miss,” he says while you can clearly hear him unbuckling his belt. “I never was that kind of man.”
‘Until now?’ you want to throw at him, but find yourself reluctant to argue.
“I reckon we can help each other a smidgen, though,” he says and grabs you once more, rougher this time, holding you up with an arm around your waist while he brings himself to you.
You feel his legs strap around yours while his cock slides right between your thighs, hard and impossible to ignore when it rubs tight between your lower lips and clit, hitting your belly.
On the outside.
“Just yell or make noise if you need me to stop” he says as his legs trap yours tightly and his hands grab each side of your waist.
It’s not stopping that you need him to do. You can tell he’d fill you up to the brim and your insides throb wilder than ever at the prospect. Wanting. Craving.
He pulls away before you can say anything, adjusting his grip one last time before slamming against you, his tip teasing your clit as your insides cry in equal parts excitement and frustration.
The sounds of your wet flesh against his unrelenting thrusts fills the barn and your entire body shakes with them. You want to say something, but save from yelling, you worry he won’t hear you, and he’s chasing the breath out of you as it is.
Your core heats up, you barely keep from collapsing against the rack you’re holding for dear life against. The pleasure. It floods from deep within you and your legs escape his grip as you shake under his thrusts. Your heels hit his ass hard and he grunts, his momentum disturbed.
He readjusts and is just about to resume when you finally manage to catch your breath enough to say “In…”
He pauses. He must’ve heard you but you weren’t clear enough.
“Put it in!” you manage to say.
“Well I’d never refuse…” he readjusts his grip on you and pulls away just enough to make room for his cock to tease your drenching pussy. “…such a lovely invitation.”
You can taste the smirk he says it with, even if he also sounds wistful, but have no time to even think of a retort before he moves inside you, your walls wrapping warm against him. Welcoming.
He swears, and whatever he mutters along with it comes out shaky as your insides throb against his advancing thrusts.
Demanding. Hungry. Still not full enough. Still not hard enough.
Your ass perks up, helpful, giving him all the room he could possibly need, your gspot pressed tighter against his length.
“Thirsty little thing…” he breathes out, his grip on you painful as he touches your inner ring at the same time as his hips come flush against your splayed ass. If his dick was made to order, it would still not reach as perfectly.
He seems to be enjoying the same idea for a moment, his grip loosening just enough that you can wiggle. Just enough that you can swing your hips against him. Urging him where your mind and voice are too taken with the thrill of a fullness you’ve never though possible, and the anticipation of what’s to come.
He resumes thrusting, too gentle at first.
“Harder…” you manage to breathe out but you can’t tell if your mouth managed to pronounce it. It felt more like a pleading moan… and once that was out, there is no stopping the others.
He thrusts harder with every single one of your moans, and every thrust breeds yet another moan, even more pleading than the other. More demanding… more pathetic.
If someone walked in on you now, you’d care for nothing, as long as you kept getting fucked.
Your throat is dry and you feel wet around your mouth but you can do nothing other than cry out in mindless delight as he slams harder into you, so hard that you could swear the whole barn might come apart above you. Your body holds. No, it craves for more. It craves for all. Insatiable.
His grunts behind you have long changed to moaning, his thrusts wild, unstoppable, unhinged. Pleasure that has been playing all across your body gets drawn to full attention, no longer just to the thrashing of your core, but to his grip, his voice, his mindlessness.
The ecstasy organizes. You feel it come together like a horde, savage and relentless in one goal only: ripping you apart. You’re helpless against it. And eager. It’s closing in.
He growls loud and helpless, his thrusts speeding up as your core clenches against him, your insides quaking as overwhelming pleasure threatens to tear at the very seams of your being. Unyielding. Unstoppable.
It’s as if a vulcano breaks from the center of your very existence as you shudder and curl against the saddle, around his cock, in his arms, his fingers digging so tight into your hips that you could swear your skin gave, but the pain only peppers the ecstasy that takes over when his moan sounds delightfully ethereal alongside yours. You can feel your insides trying to squeeze him dry still, as he fills every last space left within you with his cum.
You lay limp from the saddle, his hips still flush against your ass, his cock still deep inside you and you both catch your breaths and minds from everywhere.
“Darn, sweetheart…” he whispers, slowly pushing himself to his feet. Your insides complain as he pulls out just as slowly, but they’re too spent to put up any fight. “They’d need a locomotive to pull me out of you, were I still kickin…” he lets his hands brush across your back so slow and intent, it feels like a caress.
There is a mess of rags and saddles all around you, every rack destroyed, but the one you’re still bent over, the old saddle tight against your belly. The whole barn looks like a tornado just went through it…
“Alas…” the stranger whistles sadly.
It’s morning, and everything around you is increasingly visible, but when you slip off the saddle and turn to look at the stranger, there is nothing but darkness. Pitch, surreal, darkness.
You can feel his hands caress your legs as you pull away, but still nothing of him. The entire side of the barn where he’s standing is nothing but strange, unrelenting blackness. As if the night itself is taking refuge there.
A rooster crows outside, announcing the new day, and, as its song travels across the morning dew, the darkness lessens, giving way to… nothing. The entire side of the barn is empty of even the smallest speck of dust. Not even your toy is there.
Everything around, but the barn itself and the saddle you got fucked on is in complete disarray, you included. There’s bits of mysteriously old leather rubbed into your skin, the smell of it sunken into your pores. You can’t explain what has gone on, but you can still feel its aftermath. You can see it too: your inner thighs are punctured, blood dripping slowly, mixing with juices that are not only yours.
The dogs bark by the farmhouse and the animals start fretting. Soon, the family and their helping will come out to tend to the farm’s many needs. They’ll ask questions that you have no answer to.
You need to get dressed before they see you… still dripping…
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I'm soooo sorry you're under the weather and dealing with crappy stuff! I hope things get better for you, physically and mentally 🙏 Get lots of rest if you can, and drink all the fluids!
Headcanon requests, is it? How about the OPLA men (Shanks & Mihawk, but also take your pick, etc) with a multi-tasking reader who delights in various hobbies to keep busy, and occasionally drags them into getting involved? Whether it be container gardening, knitting, baking, sewing, artwork, etc.
Bonus if they're also contending with where exactly reader stores all of her crap when it's not in use, not at all guilty of this myself 🙈🤣
Thank you so, so, so much. It’s been a really bad day and this has honestly helped a lot.
Like I feel this hard. There’s guitar picks and tuning peg winders and little notebooks full of story notes and recipes and origami scattered all over my house.
Just gonna do Shanks and Mihawk this time, because they very much are my main comfort characters right now.
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The fact that one of my comfort characters is so murdery probably does not say good things for my mental health but whatever
Hobbies
OPLA! Shanks and Mihawk x Reader
Cloyingly fluffy, here is a spoon with which to gag yourself, just in case c>===
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Shanks
He is absolutely so game for all of this.
Such a child about it, if you’re trying to do anything new he’s just so excited about it and needs to know everything.
Completely in your business, asking ten thousand questions, along with the inevitable starry-eyed, “Can I help?”
And you’d have to be heartless to turn down those puppy-dog eyes.
It might not turn out to be his thing, and he might get in the way more than he actually helps, but he’s going to enjoy the experience with you regardless, and his enthusiasm is just so precious that it makes it more fun for you as well.
The exception here is knitting. Knitting can get fucked. He tried, holding one needle in his hand and the other between his teeth, and somehow ended up nearly giving himself a tracheotomy.
But if you knit, sew, or crochet something for him, he’s going to unironically wear it everywhere and brag about it to anyone who will listen.
Baking, though, turns out he has something of a knack for it. And now his go-to solution if you’re sad or upset about something is to bake you cookies, because “How can anyone be sad when there are cookies?” And, well, he’s not entirely wrong.
The captain’s cabin is just completely cluttered with arts and crafts supplies, with so many signs and knickknacks of your many and varied hobbies, and he sincerely loves it because there’s just so much of you everywhere he looks. He’s always felt at home on the sea, but this just makes it feel even more like home.
Mihawk
Not quite as perceptive to participating. He might if you ask him, but some things might take convincing.
He’s an utter perfectionist about everything, so if you do convince him to try anything, he’s probably going to fixate on it until he’s a certified expert and compete with you over who’s better at it.
More refined and traditional artistic endeavors definitely appeal to him more—you could probably convince him to try painting or drawing pretty easily, but things like sewing or crocheting are going to be a little more of a stretch.
Gardening in general is honestly fine as well, container or otherwise.  The more you can grow on the island or around the castle, the less he has to concern himself with leaving to deal with other people. And it is fairly convenient to have fresh herbs growing right in the kitchen.
Fairly adept at cooking already—he’s spent most of his life in solitude, so cooking for himself was something of a necessity. Baking isn’t exactly his forte, but he will partake if you ask him to.
He acts like the clutter of your supplies irritates him, but really only so he can give you a room or two of the castle dedicated solely to your hobbies. No point looking a gift horse in the mouth, and you know he’s just being surly to protect his pride.
You know because even if he isn’t interested in it himself, he does enjoy watching you work, sitting off to the side with a book and a glass of wine, glancing up every so often to see your progress.
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im14andivebeen14foramonth · 4 months ago
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ADHD CURTIS BROTHERS HCS PLEASEEEEE 🙏
YESSS I FUCK WITH THIS HEAVY
Ponyboy
pony's most apparent symptom is his inattentiveness. his head is always up in the clouds, and he spends a looot of time daydreaming
very very very forgetful, mostly about his own needs. he'll go days without brushing his teeth if darry doesn't remind him
pony has a bad habit of zoning out while looking directly at people, so they just look over and his eyes are like wide and glazed over and staring into their souls. it especially freaks steve out for some reason. "QUIT STARING AT ME LIKE THAT!!" "huh?"
he can't get himself to do his homework in a timely manner. he works best under pressure and so he'll just procrastinate it until the night before it's due and then he locks in
when he does lock in like that, he's practically dead to the world. bro forgets to eat and drink and move his body for like hours at a time until darry or soda makes him get up and he's just like "ow. ow. ow. everything hurts"
he's still hyperactive though and it drives darry crazy sometimes. when he's with the rest of the gang is when it really spikes, and he'll start running all around the house with them. darry can tell though when he needs to get his energy out because he'll just start following darry around the house and bounce around or drum his fingers on every single thing he can. when he gets like that, darry will ask him if he wants to go for a run or play football or smthn so that he can get his energy out
bro WILL hyper fixate on every single thing he's interested in, his consistent ones are books and movies, but sometimes he'll just spend hours a day thinking about one specific book or drawing one character from the latest movie he's seen
it's always a 50/50 on whether he's going to have lots of fun or get super overstimulated in different places. like in grocery stores, after a half hour he's ready to start crying and he'll usually just get quiet and not leave darry's side until they leave. but he thrives in other places like fairs and festivals, and enjoys the bright lights and loud music
he doesn't have great control over his temper. he gets frustrated super easily and will get snappy over the smallest things, but almost every time without fail it ends with him crying and feeling bad
Sodapop
this man may just be the most hyperactive person ever
he will NOT stay in one place for more than five minutes at a time. he's always running around the house, and when he does stay in one spot, he's shaking/bouncing his leg the entire time
like pony though, he gets his moments where he locks in and they're the only times that he doesn't break focus no matter what. he'll go from talking nonstop to just being dead silent as he tries to fix something on a car at work and it freaks steve out
he's so bad with rejection :( even if it's something as small as someone saying they don't like his favorite car, or they're not in the mood to talk about horses, he'll get so sad and feel like his interests are stupid
he cries a lot no matter what he's feeling. if he gets frustrated, angry, or scared, he'll start crying and his energy goes through the roof
soda is easily the most forgetful person any of the gang has ever met. he'll forget what day it is, to put shoes on, to take food out of the oven, everything. it's mostly a short-term memory issue. however, his memory will be really good for oddly specific things. steve: "remember that time I got a cold or something in like elementary school and-" "oh yeah that tuesday in october in first grade when you were wearing that red shirt and you kept sneezing during story time :)" "why do you remember that??" "I dunno"
when he gets overstimulated it's BAD. it doesn't happen often, but when it does, he'll break down in tears and refuse to speak to anyone. darry's the only one who can ever calm him down
he stims a lot, usually by playing with the hair on the back of his neck or rubbing whatever shirt he's wearing
Darry
although it may not be as obvious, darry's also on the hyperactive side. he loves football, running, swimming, anything that's high intensity and lets him get his energy out. when he doesn't have a chance to do those things, he'll usually just pace around or do a quick workout
he will drum his fingers every single time he's thinking, he's even worse than pony with it. and if he has a pen in his hand, you better believe he's clicking it nonstop. the amount of dirty looks he got in school for it was crazy
even though he gets on pony for it a lot, darry also zones out a lot. he's usually better at hiding it though, like people will be having full conversations with him and they don't realize that he was zoned out the whole time until they ask him something and he just goes "huh?"
his biggest hyper fixation has always been football. he could talk for hours and hours about any player, team, or game if someone lets him
he did great in school, but he always had to find obscure ways of remembering things for tests and quizzes, he especially did a lot of those acronym things. whenever someone asked him how he did something or remembered something, he would explain his weird system and they would be even more confused
this poor man cannot cope without a schedule. that's a part of the reason why he gets so bothered when pony isn't home at the right time, because it throws off his schedule and then his whole day is ruined
whenever he reads, he can only focus if he sort of murmurs the words the whole time, and he almost always plays with the edges of the paper to keep his focus
when he gets overstimulated, he gets snappy and loud and doesn't want a single person to touch or talk to him
he's big on vocal stims. he hums or mumbles to himself or makes random noises whenever he's trying to focus on something
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juniorfor2 · 4 months ago
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For some reason, even though it has been 2 years since S1 and Aemond claimed a dragon, I am still seeing people say that it is impossible to steal a dragon and he did nothing wrong. Which is baffling, because he clearly was - he did not have the King’s permission to claim such a dragon, and he specifically did it on the night of Laena’s funeral because he wanted to make sure no one could stop him or claim Vhagar before him.
I think part of this stems from a lack of theoretical understanding of how ownership works, as @rhaenin-time writes about here, but I also think it comes from a practical lack of understanding - it’s pretty clear that none of these people have ever worked with domestic animals, and therefore have never had to deal with the exact specifics of what ownership looks like in relation to each person involved with the animal.
However, I have worked with large domestic animals - and the moment that you start comparing the two, it becomes pretty obvious that Aemond was in the wrong.
The relationship that the riders, such as Laena, have with the dragons is most similar to a full lease on a horse. This means that by paying money to the owner, Laena can take Vhagar over to her place in Pentos and have essentially full responsibility over her. Laena can ride her, take care of her, allow her family to help with responsibilities, etc. She essentially acts as the owner of Vhagar. However, Laena is NOT the owner at the end of the day, she is leasing. That means that whenever Laena ends the lease (or in this case dies), Vhagar goes back to Viserys.
Vhagar belongs to no one except Viserys - not Laena’s family, not anyone related to Viserys, not even Alicent as his wife. The only one who could potentially do anything is Rhaenyra, who could be given the responsibility as heir, to manage things if Viserys cannot. No one else gets that responsibility, because their name is not on the label for ownership.
Therefore, neither Aemond nor Rhaena are allowed to just grab Vhagar and ride her. It is understandable that as a 6-7 year old, who has grown up with Vhagar her whole life and even ridden her with her mother, Rhaena might not fully understand this. However, there is no excuse with Aemond. He has never had responsibility over Vhagar, and he was not given permission to take on that responsibility and ride her. He knows this too, by sneaking out at night to do so, rather than asking at a more appropriate time.
That is stealing. By understanding that someone else owns the animal and deliberately not asking permission to take them, there is no other way to view it. It doesn’t matter if Aemond is Viserys’ son, if a kid took out their parent’s horse at night to go for a ride without telling anyone (especially never having ridden or seen the horse before), you can bet they’d be grounded for months and they would never ride them again.
It’s no different with dragons. People seem to think that by virtue of dragons possessing more intelligence than the average animal, that this somehow changes things. It really doesn’t. Sure, a dragon cannot be abused into submission, they have their own magical abilities and shouldn’t be constantly restrained, but what else is there? A farm animal could just as easily kick a person’s head in for abusing them or trying to force them into something. An animal can decide not to listen to anyone if they feel like it. They should be treated with respect as well - they are not dumb creatures that can’t understand a word a person says. People say you can’t force a bond with a dragon - do you really think it’s possible to do so with a horse?
Aemond’s actions are not better by virtue of the creature being a dragon. People trying to draw such a difference are those who have never had to understand a clear distinction in ownership before, and do not understand how domestic animals behave. If Aemond did not ask permission from the owner to ride Vhagar because he knew he wouldn’t get it, then he was stealing, plain and simple.
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robo-milky · 2 years ago
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[More Info]
Nicknames:
Henchman (Grim) | Claws (Ace) | Clochey Wochey (Cater) | House Cat (Leona)
Shrimpy (Floyd) | Trickster -> La Petite Clochette (Rook) | City Kitty (Epel) | Kit -> Honorary Human (Sebek)
Kit of Beasts -> Heart of Man (Malleus)
In Return:
Master _____ (Everyone except for faculty)
Uncle (Ramshackle Ghosts)
Bio:
An emotionally distant girl who thinks with her brains more than her heart. Her words may come off as insensitive, but it’s always said in a neutral tone. Prefers to state the facts and look for the most efficient way out, than tackling more abstract concepts like emotions. Despite this outlook on life, she is a skeptical, worst-case scenario planner. Cloche will go the extra mile if it means security and success is guaranteed. When it comes anything, be it a task/person/subject, Cloche is the type of person who would want to know anything and everything about it to be prepared. When push comes to shove, Cloche will take on the role of leadership and make all the hard decision no one else wants to make. Cloche is a very “the ends justify the means” kind of person.
Core Values -> Competency + Freedom
Background:
A cosplayer from Earth who, after exiting from a con, took a wrong turn to get home and was swept away by the NRC horse carriage.
“I did not put so much effort into studying and making the right friends just for it all to go into smoke! …What’s the point anymore?”
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Ghost Camera: “I’m pretty sure Headmaster Crowley gave this to me as binding to keep me here.”
Snow Hand Cream: “Master Rook could tell this cream is from Neige’s line just by the smell! Isn’t that impressive?”
Bandaids: “I originally bought these for myself, but I end up giving them to others…”
Advils: “Would you like one? Binding Bells told me you were getting headaches, so…”
Handkerchief: “Here, let me wipe that up for you, Master.”
Hair ties: “Master Epel gave them to me during a joint P.E. class. The day after, I overheard Master Vil complaining about his missing hair ties.”
Pencil Case: “If you wish to borrow a pencil, I expect you to give me something back as collateral— so I know you’ll return it back to me.”
Lollipops: “The lollipops in Twisted Wonderland are great and all, but they can’t beat the taste of Chupachups.”
Thread and Needle: “Oh, you’re missing a button.”
Lactaid: “You don’t need one… do you?”
Scrapbook: “Do NOT touch.”
Textbook: “I’m so close annotating the whole book. Just a couple pages left…”
Spiral bound notebook: “Master Rook complimented the calligraphy title in my notes! …Maybe I should do the same thing for futures ones.”
Phone: “Master Grim, please stop playing games…”
Sketchbook: “Master Epel complained about me drawing him too ‘girly’, but I only drew what I saw.”
Notable Thoughts: Cloche’s
“Headmaster Crowley must be busy running such a prestigious school like this… So busy, I wonder if he’d have time looking for a way I can go back to my world.”
“Master Grim’s orders aren’t as bad you think. All he really does is make me do his share of the chores. The simplicity of his orders are a blessing compared to other students’…”
“Master Riddle is accomplished, but he throws tantrums too easily at the drop of a pin.”
“Master Ace may be annoying, but he can be a surprisingly reliable when needed.”
“Although Master Deuce has a good attitude, I don’t think I’m patient enough to wait for him to catch up.”
“I do like Master Jack’s work ethic, but his moral compass is suffocating.”
“I can relate to Master Ruggie’s pragmatism to some degree, though I personally disagree with his disregard of fine arts.”
“If Master Azul ever asks about my whereabouts, no he did not.”
“Is it bad I felt no sympathy for Master Kalim when Master Jamil overblotted?”
“I feel like I’ve been seeing Epel more and more since he stayed over at Ramshackle for the VDC. I get that it’s probably convenient for him to go with me, if we’re going to head back to the same destination anyways, but he doesn’t have to accompany during short breaks.”
“I think Master Rook is very admirable! He’s intelligent, athletic, and creative! …I wish more people could give him a chance and see him for who he really is— but… he probably wouldn’t like that… After all, half the things I know about him, he’s never told me in person.”
“I have deep respect for Master Vil, I really do. Although I have some qualms with the lyrics he wrote for ‘Absolutely Beautiful’.”
“Before asking Master Idia for homework help, Master Grim and I always play a game of rock-paper-scissors. …Why? Because neither of us want to be the bargaining chip.”
“I don’t see why I should fawn over the prince of a foreign land— let alone, from another world. Master Malleus will not be my king, nor will I be his subject. Sage Island is out of his jurisdiction, anyways.”
“…Some of my acting was genuine. A part of me was so desperate to rid myself of the curse, that I was fine with fooling myself. I’ll admit, if Master Rook didn’t come first, then I’m sure he would have... ahem— Capable, composed… it’s almost scary.”
Notable Thoughts: Others’
“Cloche could’a been the perfect henchman if he didn’t have to call other people ‘Master’!” - Grim
“With Cloche around, Heartslabyul doesn’t have to resort to using a cat beastman to play the violin, but an actual cat. That way, we can follow rule 529 without any loopholes.” - Riddle
“Me, friends with that stick in the mud? Pfft—! As if!” - Ace
“Even in a sticky situation, I’ve never seen Cloche lose his cool before. I wonder how he does it…” - Deuce
“For a beastman, Cloche really doesn’t like noise. I get that too, since our ears are more sensitive than humans… but shouldn’t he have already gotten used to it, by now?” - Jack
“I can’t have Leona ordering Cloche around, cause he’ll steal my job!” - Ruggie
“It’s such a shame Cloche refused my offer for him to work at the Monstro Lounge. …We could have made good money and attracted more customers if we used his cat form to promote on our Magicam…” - Azul
“Cloche is really nice! He’s kind of like Jamil, helpful and a bit stern. …But I also feel like there’s a darkness… Ah— Nahaha! N-Nevermind! I want to know more about him too.” - Kalim
“Cloche is surprisingly weak. He could barely lift up a crate of apples when I called him over for help the other day. I ought to be annoyed he couldn’t help, but I’m also kind of glad?” - Epel
“I thought I could feel the claws of a wild beast, but there’s a beauty to reservation too. Perhaps I’ll need to lure it out.” - Rook
“Honestly… All the work I put into reviving Cloche’ natural curls has gone to waste, since he left Pomefiore.” - Vil
“‘Master Hornton’, an amusing nickname, indeed. I was under the impression Cloche had known my identity, but it seems my expectations had been subverted.” - Malleus
“Tch. Cloche can play the victim when needed, I’ll give him that. Manipulating his curse to his advantage makes him no better than those Night Raven College miscreants he claimed to have disassociated with.” - ???
Extras/Trivia:
- Birthday: May 12
- ISTJ-T/6w5
- “She/Her” is only used in a meta/narration sense, otherwise— she uses “he/him”
- Prefers voice > looks
- When Cloche is in her cat form, she has no conscious thoughts and move as if she’s on autopilot, like a normal cat.
- Cloche has no distinct handwriting. It varies depending on what she’s writing and who it’s for— yet even then, no two letters look the same. (Unless forging)
- Cloche has no inner fur in her ears. It’s to signify that the cat ears are unnatural— fake.
- Has a habit of either covering her mouth with her hand/sleeve or turning away whenever she breaks into a genuine smile. Can smile on command for a camera (cosplayer intuition).
- Goes to the school forest to calm down whenever she feels emotional or if she has an inkling that her feral side will come out
- Cloche has germaphobic tendencies.
- Has a habit of biting her index finger or thumb to suppress pain/excessive laughter.
- School ghosts and paintings are fond of Cloche for always being respectful and fixing their frames, the Ramshackle ghosts, especially.
- Feral! Cloche represents Id
Gallery:
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Cards:
Groovy!! [SR Tsumsitter]
Groovy!! [SSR Union/Birthday Jacket]
[SR Luxe Couture]
[SSR Birthday Bloom]
Groovy!! [SSR Glorious Masquerade]
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seancekitsch · 1 year ago
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(Feel free to ignore!!) Reader is working at court (maybe a cartographer or something) who has worked with Cahir before he was sent away to these raiding parties. Both tried to remain professional (feelings? They? Love is for children) but when he returns, Reader is the one who goes & finds him? Fluff-ish? (You can take it in any direction you‘d like. Your work is fantastic!!! Thanks so much for carrying the Cahir fans on your back. By yourself)
ahhh thank you so much love!! i hope more people start writing for him i think there's only like three or four of us!!! hope you like this one :)
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You refused to look up at the intelligence officer as you continued to erase from your draft.
“Where to this time?” you ask, scrubbing the northern part of the Yaruga river from the landscape.
“Thanedd,” he says, his voice just barely above whisper. 
“Thanedd?!” you lose your composure, looking up at him a moment before grounding yourself. 
“Thanedd is having a lot a visitors lately.”
He only hums, not at all buying your nonchalance.
“Thanedd it is,” you muse, sorting through your folders for a suitable map that isn’t too well used to hand to him. You pass several until you find your own personal map of the island, like you always do for him. It’s easy to find and you pull it and toll it and pass it to his hand, all without making eye contact. You ignore the warmth that floods your hand when his fingers graze yours. 
“Thank you, darling,” he says, the closest thing to an affirmation you’ve gotten from him, yet so much more bold than anything you’ve said or done. Nilfgaardian courts aren’t exactly the safest place to be, especially when your position in it is so precarious. Other cartographers could easily be better trained, better trusted, but Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach vouched for you specifically and you weren’t about to destroy you credibility for falling for the officer. 
He leaves without lingering though, sparing you from doing something foolish.
The interaction is something you can banish from for only two days, however, because then you start to hear whispers on your way to the new stronghold in Cintra. Whispers of the mages all coming together, whispers of the elves and their army as well… 
It feels bad, a pit sinking in your stomach as your riding party starts to ride ahead of you as you slow your horse without even thinking of why. 
Thanedd really isn’t that far from here, maybe an eight hours ride…
And Cahir has your personal map of the island. He’s the safest he could possibly be unless the worst happens. 
Knowing Cahir and his luck lately the worst will happen, you think to yourself, pulling on your horses reigns. 
Fuck it, you think, and then you let your horse and your heart lead instead of your brain. 
You come upon a field haggard and tired, your horse just the same, to a landscape reeking of blood and smoke; a scent that hadn’t filled your nose in quite some time. A Nilfgaardian soldier alone and elves closing in on him. The events must have gone worst than you thought if there is fighting even out here, on a part of the island rarely gone to, you think. You put two and two together easily. It’s not that you give out maps that are incorrect, just, you only give out ones with the relevant information. You save the complete ones to draw upon and make pretty as a personal art project. Like the one you handed Cahir before he left that would definitely have this side of the island detailed out. 
Fuck.
“Hey! Hey, stop!” you shout, all while urging your horse on despite its own fatigue. The elves stop in their advance, but do not retreat, and you can finally confirm your instinct that is is Cahir. He looks shell shocked, without his weapons and without his helmet. When his gaze meets you his eyes are wild and sad, not the serious and sometimes flirty man you knew. 
“You… you came,” he calls out to you, and you dismount your horse quickly to rush to him.
“Stupid man! I had to,” you yell, not hiding the fear or anger from your voice, but then you soften, your hands finally placing themselves on his armor. He’s here, he’s not dead yet. You both might be soon. Why not throw all practicality into the wind if you may be executed by the elves on horseback mere feet away? 
“I needed my map back.”
“I was always going to return it,” he assures you, his arms rising to brace your own. 
“No you weren’t,” you insist as the elves close in, Cahir once their commander now lost all faith in him. 
“I was,” he insists, and surges forward to kiss you. It’s like time stops, and everything in your life and on this continent falls into place for just a moment; his lips on yours and clear skies painting the future. 
And then you’re ripped apart from one another by the elves. 
You don’t resist.
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vai3r13 · 4 months ago
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[ JJK matchup exchange w/ -> @frostfall-matches ]
[ raven | afab, any pronouns | 20s | preference for male match, any character is fine as long as they look mostly human ]
- personality: distant, introverted but not shy (disinterested), generally respectful of others but not necessarily kind/sweet, can be a bit fickle and can easily cut people out of my life if they're no longer someone i want to be around, somewhat apathetic (flat affect, rarely has strong emotional reactions, but a majority of the time mood baseline is content/relaxed), calm under pressure, extremely independent, confident and self-secure (sometimes prideful to the point of arrogance), can take criticism well, straightforward (blunt, sometimes tactless/insensitive), tends to laugh off the severity of a situation, not very ambitious, mildly competitive, a moderate risk-taker (often gets a thrill from risky decisions, but tries to avoid lethal situations).
good/broad sense of humor (often more on the playful/absurd side, less so on the sarcasm), calm but playful around friends, very teasing, mischievous, realist that leans optimistic, curious, nosy and loves gossip/drama (but typically doesn't get involved), a natural troublemaker/rulebreaker but also often unintentionally gets into trouble, comfortable with confrontation (often meets heated conflict with a snarky/condescending smile, a bit combative with authority and those who irritate me) but is generally easygoing, even-tempered, intelligent, logical, unsentimental, surprisingly low impulse control (if i want to do/get something, i will simply do it), does not hold onto regrets, good at self-reflection, generally does things out of self-interest but willingly helps others out occasionally.
- personality/alignment types: INTJ-A ; 7w8 ; chaotic neutral.
- love languages: physical touch and gifts. touch reserved for close friends/partners only, willing to initiate affection.
- date activities: cafés, amusement parks, hiking, indoor dates cooking/baking/gaming.
- hobbies: video games (tactics, RPGs, visual novels, anything with good world-building and characters), anime, drawing (digital), painting, baking, cosplay, writing, reading (fantasy, suspense/thriller, psychological, abstract), taking care of houseplants, home/decor DIY projects, hiking, thrill-seeking activities (a bit of an adrenaline junkie).
- likes: cats, sweets, most fruits, good food, cheese, lattes (a favorite of mine is chai), scented candles (can't burn them for long bc i get headaches), piercings, tattoos, puns and lame dad jokes, cool weather, winter, forests, mountains, traveling, new experiences, learning languages (currently knows/studied: english, french, korean, latin), medieval history, having ample amount of alone time/space, the occasional lazy day, the occasional philosophical discussion, a balance between structure and spontaneity, bantering with others, encouraging my friends' bad/risky decisions (i will even do it with them).
- dislikes: dogs, horses, bitter foods, alcohol, strong scents, hot weather, summer, spiders (other bugs are ok), long car rides, feeling restricted, conformity and blind obedience, having to be responsible for others or lead them, being vulnerable, when others are condescending towards me (makes my pride flare up), when others step in to help without me asking, heavy use of sarcasm, pessimism.
- fun facts: quite clumsy, accident prone ; terrible sense of direction ; enjoys skin/hair care, loves changing up hair often ; used to do gymnastics ; a weird mix between a night owl and a morning person (but afternoons are rough) ; able to pick up new skills relatively quickly ; majors in international studies and french in uni w/ minors in psychology and medieval history ; currently working as a scribe ; studied abroad in korea for 5 months and took to long term travel really well ; prone to bad luck but tries to find the humor in most situations.
- appearance/style: 155 cm / 5’1” ; hourglass to pear shaped ; very pale (burns easily) ; round, youthful face ; single dimple on right cheek when smiling ; big green eyes, long eyelashes ; hair is naturally wavy and light ash brown almost always styled with front bangs, currently mid back length and toned silver ; 5 piercings in one ear, 4 + an industrial in the other, and a navel piercing ; clothing style is more on the masculine side (rarely wears dresses/skirts, but i do love short shorts), color scheme is black/gray/muted green ; loves fishnets, flannels, leather jackets, combat boots ; socks are either black or very colorful/patterned ; enjoys sweatpants and hoodies when lounging at home.
Hello Hello! Your matchup is complete @rav--en / @frostfall-matches!!
written in you perspective
barely proofread + English is not my native language
word count - 1.2k
possible tw - talk of narcissism, gambling, past abuse and addiction
And it's...
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Fushiguro Tōji !!
To start off, your enneagram types are one of the most common pairings and come with a great deal of similarities and differences. Independence is a quality both of you share and also something both of you deem as important. You can find common ground in both humor and your overall laid-back personality. Toji is someone who shows a few borderline narcissistic qualities, like a lack of empathy, a sense of superiority, and self-centeredness. Yet those same traits are quite situational and more tied to his background than actual narcissism. That doesn’t change the fact that he is not good with people who seek reassurance and constant validation. You being confident fits very well.
When you talk, playful banter and the absurdness in your humor draw Toji closer, just like your rule-breaking and playfulness. As we can see in any of Toji's appearances,  conformity and blind obedience are not his forte either, which is another thing that makes you similar. Your logic and levelheadedness are needed in a relationship with him.
I headcanon Tojis main love language to be acts of service, he doesn’t like making himself vulnerable with words and in his mind actions speak louder than words anyway. He has a great deal of experience in his mercenary work, imagine him fighting off some guy who disturbs you, carrying things for you, etc.
Toji isn't the person for the most typical and romantic relationship, he disappears for days on end, it's a thing that comes both with his job and personality. When he's around tho, I can see him spending lots of time around you. Inviting himself to your place and just accompanying you through your day. Most of your fond experiences with him would be while doing quite mundane tasks. He gambles by betting on horses, while he goes off of feeling I can imagine you taking a very logical approach, that's something he would appreciate, watching you observe every single horse and their traits, eliminating horses one by one to finally decide the one your betting on if you choose to participate in betting too. Going to small restaurants, spending time together in your apartment, etc.
The first time you two went hiking you had to drag him to said location. Toji being just as competitive as you at one point the hike turns into a race of one of you trying to be faster. Toji being very fit and bigger than you wins after a while of speed walking, - borderline running through the trail. He will absolutely tease you about said hike.
Going to amusement parks is fun with Toji and if you want something he will absolutely try and win it for you, after complaining about the prices, on the occasion that he does lose the rigged game he turns up to your apartment the next day with the same thing that you wanted. Just don't ask what happened to the stallholder :)
He gifts you houseplants, as a mercenary he is an excellent observer so he will instantly notice the pots standing around in your apartment. He'll start researching how to care for them and waters them for you if you ever forget.
Watches you play video games, and laughs when you get irritated. If you invite him to play with you he'll tell you "I'm too old for this.", he will still play with you tho. He mostly enjoys combat and the main plot, but doesn't care much for exploration or side plots. Watches you bake, and asks how long it will take until you're finished, he's a big man and will obliterate anything you make, he makes a ranking with everything you've ever baked and he can and will explain the reason for each place, with great detail too.
You liking dad jokes is a must with Toji, once he notices you stifling a chuckle when he slips one out for the first time, he'll most definitely incorporate them in his speech. Toji isn't one for long philosophical speeches in his free time, but he enjoys listening to you discussing the topic, maybe adding his 2 cents once in a while.
"a balance between structure and spontaneity"
Another aspect that makes Toji a very fitting match, is your more logical and rather disinterested personality makes a perfect match with Tojis more emotional and risky side!
Your dislikes align too, like alcohol, hate of conformity, vulnerability, and arrogance. Toji'll tease you about both your bad luck and situations you get into, he won't make it obvious but he's the type to help you while you're not looking. Be it you just about to hit your hand against a corner and him covering it with his hand, or you almost losing some important document. He'll watch you do your skincare, asking you about the products you're using.
Physical aspects he would enjoy would be your height difference. He would show interest in your many piercings too. Toji doesn't care much for style or fashion and he doesn't care what you wear you're gonna be gorgeous for him no matter what you wear and he can fight after all. Your color scheme is similar, so you might even end up wearing similar/ almost partner outfits sometimes. He'll laugh about your colorful socks but will gift you some, with either your favorite character or your favorite food.
While you both fit each other very well there obviously are negative aspects that can't be forgotten in a relationship with Toji. One of those things would be his insane commitment issues or his dealing with past abuse that he still never fully healed from. I can imagine that those things result in occasional outbursts and periods of low-to-no contact with him. Since Toji also has a problem with being vulnerable he won't let himself be helped, not at the start of your relationship at least. He just has to be left alone for a while, in that period your independence and equal need for alone time are part of the reason why you handle each other so well.
Another thing that has to be accepted when in a relationship with Toji is his tough gambling addiction and the way he blows through money. A very tricky aspect of him that will become an important topic at some point in your relationship.
Negatives aside you and Toji would be a very fitting match for each other, in which your negative and positive aspects balance each other and create a strong bond between the two of you.
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headcanons
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Toji taking you out to gamble, and you just watching him or even joining in. You betting on two different horses, he bets off of feeling while you go off of logical aspects like the visible condition of said horses. Finally picking your horse and later on winning! He's just a tiny bit jealous and pissed.
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Toji teaching you how to shoot a gun just because "It'll make you look like a badass" and he wants you to be safe and able to protect yourself. As you brought up that you're quite quick with learning new things I think that he'll be quite impressed with you.
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Going out to random small restaurants and trying each other's favorite foods, or trying new ones. He'll absolutely show you his favorite Takoyaki spot.
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He'll absolutely beat anyone who harasses you to shit, full on dragging said person into an alleyway and bones cracking.
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I really want hwachae or rice cakes.
Anyway, thank you sm for reading and I hope you could enjoy at least something:)
It was kind of hard for me to match you at first, but after a little thinking, it became pretty clear. My second choice would've been Geto.
I apologize for bad English, it's not my native language.
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jeridoesntdourls · 4 months ago
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15 for all three MCs! :D
HIIII OMG TYSM FOR ASKING!!! This was actually kinda tough(especially Medea), I think all of them are so caught up in their own dramas that a vacation seems so far away- this might be the one time I'm writing them happy and taking a break LMAO
MEDEA
Best of luck trying to get them to take a vacation. Would rather chew glass than feel like she’s out somewhere enjoying herself while people need her. Because of this, I don’t think they’d ever go of their own accord but they CAN be convinced by a friend or a lover.
On the vacation itself, I don’t think they’d have much of a preference. I feel like Medea would enjoy quieter more rural places than bustling cities but enjoys art and architecture so much that they might brave a place like fantasy Florence.
Really hard to make her let loose but after she does she spends all her time taking photos and buys trinkets things from every place you visit. Has a big shelf at home where she keeps them all, it’s one of the only things she has the energy to dust semi-regularly.
Gets way too attached to street dogs and cats and cries a little when they have to leave the cat they kept seeing around the place you guys were staying at.
Gets homesick very quickly.
ATTIS
CAN. NOT. PICK. A. SINGLE. PLACE. He’s thrilled to be going somewhere away from his duties but is 100% paralyzed from having to choose. Gets carsick (carriage sick? horse sick?) extremely easily and has to have pee breaks every half hour.
Has a preference for beaches and more social/extroverted places. The highlight of every trip is the food and the drinks. Has a knack for befriending locals and tryhards at it so much it’s kinda pathetic.
Tries to learn how to surf. Fails miserably.
Despite being a pain in the ass, he prefers to travel in groups instead of alone or just with one person. Happy to stay at whatever the fantasy equivalent of an airbnb just having a cookout (churrasco) and playing cards (truco) (he actually hits people during truco and yells so loud you swear this is why the locals hate him).
Tries everything he can get his hands on. Goes on the sketchiest of motorcycle tours and eats the weirdest seafood combos.
Always remembers to buy a little souvenir for his sister.
BOREA
I’ve said this before but Borea is THE nerd of the nation. Her idea of a vacation is just to have enough time to read up on specific magic books that aren’t for work.
Although, she would love to travel to other places, especially places with a lot of historical sites and the such. If she were to ever visit Vesuvia again I’d imagine she’d enjoy touring the collusium and learning all of it’s bloody past. Because of her being in Vesuvia during the red plague (which is how she knows Asra and the MC) I feel like she’d be a bit aloof despite her enjoyment.
If she ever goes somewhere else she WILL be the type of person to meticulously plan every day by the hour and get slightly upset if it doesn’t go as she thought it would. If you go to an amusement park with her your going on at least 6 high tier rides before lunch. Optimizing queen.
LOVES TRAVELLING BY BOAT. Before her parents both decided to become posh diplomats, they were a predominately fisherman family and so some of her best childhood memories involve taking the boat out and watching the sun rise. Is content to just kinda cruise around on a fishing boat, going from neighboring country to country and reading all day.
Would enjoy going to a colder place just because she likes fashion that’s warmer but likes tropical climate best either way.
ANYWAY HERES DRUE!!!!!
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(so sorry if i missed anything in his design! I rushed a bit to draw these before I had to give a lecture so I didn't have much time :/ WOULD LOVE TO DRAW HIM SOME MORE IN THE FUTURE)
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gamesception · 1 year ago
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Sception Reads Cass Cain #21
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Ghost / Batgirl #1-4 Words: Mike Kennedy Pictures: Ryan Benjamin Additional Work: Randy Emberlin, Howard Shun
One impression I used to have that going back to look at ~all~ of Cass's early appearances has forced me to reconsider is the idea that she didn't appear outside of her own books very much. While later on that is more the case, early on she does have a fair few guest appearances and cross overs, including in this bit of non-canon dual publisher cross promotion with Elisa Cameron, aka Ghost, a Dark Horse character with a solo that had been running since 1995.
The miniseries pits long time Batman villain Harvey Dent against brand new Ghost antagonist Malcolm Greymater - a (fictional) confederate general turned zombie libertarian corpse reanimator - in a conflict over Greymater poaching some of Dent's employees (ie reanimating goons that Dent killed). Babs, Cass, and Elisa get caught in the middle and are forced to work together after following separate threads of a bombing by Two Face and bodies stolen by Greymater only to be sold off into unsavory employment after failed reanimation experiments.
I don't want to go through the whole thing with a plot summary - it's four issues of non-canon stuff after all. But as a stand alone story it works fairly well, worth a read if you're a fan of early Cass. In particular there's solid characterization of Harvey Dent and what it's like to work for him - pretty bad actually. You can see why he'd get upset at someone trying to poach his guys, working conditions for goons in Gotham are terrible, if word got around of better conditions in Arcadia (Ghost's hometown) or wherever else then Batman's villains could easily find themselves suffering a labor shortage. The mere idea of that is funny enough to me that I can't help but like this little mini series, and it's an idea I'd love to see brought back. Goons On Strike - now there's a solid idea for an ongoing Gotham event crossover.
Anyway, Ghost/Batgirl is definitely a higher fantasy story than we usually see from Cass, at least back in the early days, but there's a focus on the individual lives and humanity of the underlings working for the villains that's very grounded and down to earth. That fits in really well next to the "street level" focus of Cass's early solo title. As for the book's cross-promotional function, it does make me curious about Ghost, though probably not enough so to go back and look at her solo title. I like her villain here, but Malcolm Greymater and his crew seem to be more or less exclusive to this crossover? Comicvine is telling me he maybe appears in a single issue outside of this, so that's kind of disappointing.
So setting aside the story, how's our girl in this? Well, first of all, she's being drawn by new hands. In costume she's mostly fine.
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Sleek and spooky, glossy black. The details of her form are sometimes lost in the darkness, which loses some specificity in the action panels, but in a way that mostly works aesthetically. My only real complaint here is that her facial expression doesn't really show through the mask. You don't get a sense of what she's thinking or feeling in costume, she's just this dark angry spooky form, not so much a person or a character. As I've said in the past, though, that's as much or more a criticism of her costume design as it is of how any particular artist draws her in it.
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It's also worth noting that, as with Cass's early pairing with Azrael, her costume contrasts very nicely with Ghost's. White with round hood and billowing cape vs. Cass all black and pointy. Aesthetically it's a great fit.
Out of costume, though...
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I don't know. Just doesn't quite look like Cass to me? I know, I know, comic character facial features don't have the same specific canon as their costumes do, different artists have different styles so characters will look different, and there's definitely a stylistic element here that isn't gelling with me. The overall shape of the head is too thin, maybe, making her look a bit older than she should, where I'm used to Scott's more rounded face, stronger jaw, bushier eyebrows, shorter, poofier hair.
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Scott's style, at least at the time, also just packs in more emotional expression, which is absolutely critical for a silent protagonist.
By contrast Benjamin's Cass, when she's not in costume, is often just standing a bit behind Babs with a sort of blank, neutral expression while Babs interacts with other characters or the audience for her.
...
Which also kind of brings us to the writing for Cass here. Ghost / Batgirl is probably the best example yet that silent Cass was a mistake, because yeah, the creators of this book just do not know how to convey her character to the reader without words. The first image starts with Cass looking out over the wreckage of a bombing, and of course there's pseudo noir internal monologue all over it, because how else do you start a bat-book, only Cass can't narrate so Babs provides the narration even though she isn't even in that scene.
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Babs goes along on the adventure mostly so the writers have someone who can talk for Cass, or even in some panels quite literally talk over Cass.
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Cass is an intimidating physical presence in costume, but in this book she functions more as an extension of Babs than as a person in her own right.
...
It's not all bad, though. In particular there's this one bit introducing an additional ability for Cass that makes perfect sense with her backstory and yet sadly I don't think is ever mentioned again in a canon Batgirl story:
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Cass gets poisoned, but she survives, and recovers remarkably quickly, because she has a natural resistance to many poisons and venoms built up from repeat exposure to tiny amounts when she was a child, because of course that's something David would do. You could just imagine little Cass and David having drinking contests to see who could take the most poison before passing out, or even sneakily poisoning each other as a little game of escalating pranks.
...
So yeah, overall a nice little stand alone series with maybe not the best depiction of Cass, but one that is illustrative of why the major change to have her start speaking, while I still don't like how it was done, was probably for the best.
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outlaw-apologist · 2 years ago
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Just seen the Charles x micah's sister reader, very cute :) !! Could we get some headcannons for micah and his sisters relationship? Like do they get along ? Thank you :)
Thank you for requesting, anon! It's a nice spring day. The sun is shining brightly and the mountain looks beautiful. I'm listening to the birds while the deer eat my bushes. This is a perfect day to write some HCs, so let's get to it!
Micah's Younger Sister - Headcannons
- Micah loves his sister but his version of love is very skewed. We know by the stories he tells of Amos he doesn't seem too fond of his brother; however, the letter Amos sends Micah suggests Micah cares enough about his brother, (and thought his brother cares enough about him), to inform him that he was not hanged and that he's doing well.
- This suggest to me that Micah does have some love for his siblings. I think he would really love a little sister. Especially if the age gap is big enough because he can probably easily get her to listen to him and do whatever he wants.
- We know that Micah Bell the II was an awful father. If Micah's sister grows up with him, I can't see Micah ever protecting her from their father's wrath. However, I do think he would offer to teach her how to stand up for herself.
- I view this in more of a 'sibling unity' type of way. He's not doing it to protect her, but because he wants his siblings to be at his level. They grew up the same way and endured the same abuse. I think Micah might feel as if his siblings are the only people on earth who will ever truly understand him.
- He teaches her how to use a gun. Probably buys her a gun specially engraved. Of course, his sister has a wicked quick draw, taught by one of the finest gunslingers.
- I also think Micah would gift her a hat that looks similar to his. It would make him swell like pride to see her in his image.
- They hang out a lot! Neither of them would admit it but they're best friends. His sister is his little buddy.
- It's odd having a brother who doesn't like women but likes you. It fills her with a sense of pride whenever Micah treats her better while simultaneously disgusting her.
- They'll go into town to see a show together every once in awhile or do mundane things like getting their horses shoed or stocking up at the general store.
- Of course Micah's favorite activity to do with his sister is to put her to work so he can rob folk easier. This is all she's even know, so to them it's more like a hobby and they always end up having a blast!
- Micah is clearly very bitter Amos didn't stick by him. After Amos leaves Micah would immediately sink his teeth into his sister, figuring out how to make sure she stays by his side.
- Because of this she ends up in the Van Der Linde gang!
- Micah has ways of being charming. Charming enough to eventually make a massive gang of his own. His sister is much more charming than Micah could ever be. She has a unique perspective on life. Being the youngest child of an outlaw, and a woman in a time where she had no rights. She knows a good sense of humor can be a matter of life or death.
- The SECOND Mary-Beth asks her if she likes to read they're immediately best friends! Micah's sister opens up to the other women of the camp easily and creates fantastic relationships with them.
- Despite being friendly with all the women, Micah's sister would be very weary of the men. Of course, she's probably out robbing with them. Used to violent misogyny all her life, it's much harder for her to connect with them even when she spends so much time amongst them.
- Javier would be the first one she opens up to, I think. And it's his music that lulls her into a sense of security. Every time Javier sits down to play his guitar or sing she comes to sit near him and listen until one day she finally compliments him and they start a very pleasant conversation. It also helps that Javier has befriended many of the women in camp. This helps her trust him more.
- Because she hasn't been treated the best by her father or other outlaws, Micah's sister has more empathy. I also don't think she'd follow Micah's footsteps when it comes to racism.
- Dutch repulses her. She's noticed his lingering eyes. His 'compliments' towards her spoken with hot breath. How many times had she been around men who've looked at her that way? Too many. She tries to avoid him the best she can.
- But Hosea???? She's shocked at how fatherly he is. He's kind, wise, and one of the first people to sit down with her to try and really get to know her. I think Micah's sister would yearn for a father figure who is gentler and more human than her father ever was. She opens up to him and wishes he would replace her father.
- The blow-out fights start when she develops a sense of security within the gang. No longer does she listen to Micah. She stopped dropping everything for his beck and call. She's beginning to form a better sense of self. She's safe here, secure, no longer does she have to do what everyone else wants her to do. Obviously Micah isn't very happy and it starts fights.
- Micah assumes it's just a phase and so he drops the subject after they scream back and forth for awhile.
- It isn't until Micah notices that his sister spends a lot of time with Arthur that he becomes furious and jealous. He begins to feel like she's slipping away from him. Their fights become worse and more viscous His sister refuses to back down because she can't understand why Micah is so threatened by her happiness. She doesn't realize, from Micah's point of view, she's abandoning him.
- Eventually Dutch has to step in and tell them to cut it out because they're disturbing the camp's peace. Micah and his sister hardly speak to each other after that except to give the other a snide comment every once in awhile.
- Despite this I think both siblings would be very broken up about it. Micah will feel abandoned while his sister feels betrayed.
- After awhile they're put on a job together. Things go south pretty quickly and they both manage to narrowly escape. While hiding in the forest, struggling to catch their breath, they look at each other and burst out laughing. Neither Micah nor his sister ever talk through their issues with one another. They simply decide they're okay with each other again and resume talking as if nothing ever came between them. Forgiveness is their silent apology.
- Sometimes you just have to accept your sibling chooses a different path but that bond can still remain.
- If she ever gets hurt or shot, Micah will go ape shit!!!! He loves an excuse to slaughter someone. That paired with the threat of his final family member being injured? Oh he'll wreck havoc on the poor soul that decided to fuck with his sister.
- As the days go on and Micah's betrayal becomes more and more clear. Some of the gang start projecting their feelings for Micah onto her. Watching her with great suspicion. This would hurt her deeply. She doesn't want to lose her new family and she'll struggle with this a lot.
- If she falls in love with anyone from the gang, she knows it needs to be kept a secret. If Micah ever finds out.... She knows her lover will "mysteriously" go missing one day.
- I think during the final showdown she wouldn't choose Micah's side. She decides to choose whatever life she started building for herself. Micah destroyed the gang that made her feel loved and accepted for the first time in her life. She's furious with him and can't even look at him anymore. If her lover survives, she'll choose to stay with the lover.
- After a few years guilt will eat away at her and she'll return to Micah, joining his gang. Despite her 'betrayal' I think Micah would welcome her with open arms.
- At the end of the day they're just two lost souls who accept each other in a very raw humanity type of way. No one will ever know them the way they know each other. After everything Micah and his sister have been through together they will always end up in the same place again and again.
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mizkit · 2 months ago
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new blog post: trying to change my habits
new blog post on https://mizkit.com/trying-to-change-my-habits/
trying to change my habits
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I am, as the subject line suggests, trying to change some habits. It isn’t going well, of course, but I’m trying.
I started taking a yoga class for newbs, and I’ve Not Wanted to go to every class since then, but I’ve gone and enjoyed all of them and indeed, have left every one going “if I did that 3 or 4 times a week I’d probably feel a lot better,” but I’m trying to change habits in a SUSTAINABLE manner, not “DO ALL THE THINGS / NEVER MIND I’D RATHER DIE”.
I’m trying to spend less time on the computer in the evenings (she says after being on the computer ALL evening), and I have Three! Separate! Plans! to keep me off it.
Plan One is READ MORE. This is actually the most successful of the Plans, because I find it easier to remember to read than either of the Other Plans.
Plan Two is DRAW MORE. I’ve taken some steps toward making this easier–I did get have the brainstorm that probably Udemy or whatever it’s called has an APP, which would mean not having to turn the computer on to do the lessons I bought a thousand years ago (because as previously discussed, The Problem Is The Computer), but the habit is just really not there. I’m working on it, but this is where I need the Magic Time Blocking App which will chime pleasantly 3 days a week at a set time and say, “Do your art now, Catie!”
Plan Three is to DO SOME KNITTING. There is literally nothing stopping me from doing this except I forget. I’m almost sure if I dug the just-started project out from under the books that have been piled on top of it, I would remember more easily to do a row. However, that requires remembering to dig the project out from under the books, which I should do right now while I’m actively thinking about it.
(pauses. returns after doing that. there. now it’s on a bookshelf and easier to see.)
I guess there’s also Plan Four, which is “watch some tv with my husband” but there’s been nothing on that we’ve been INTENSELY WANTING to watch so it hasn’t had much weight.
Anyway, yeah, so those are “keep off the computer” sorts of attempts at habit-changing. Like I said, of all of them, the reading is going pretty well, and frankly, I’ll take that. :)
I’m also TRYING to work a bit more exercise in, just walking, and I tell you, embarrassingly, I forget to do that too. Today I meant to stop editing halfway through the manuscript and go for a walk, and I just…forgot. Which seems to be much more common than not. And I’ve found this rather decent-looking 60 day walking program which would tell me what to do if I’d only remember to do it! And actually, possibly, be fit enough to walk vigorously for 60 minutes at a time, which I’m not quite sure I am…
(Of course, then we digress into the problem I was discussing on BS the other day, which is: I sweat like a horse, and the prospect of bringing exercise clothes to change into/out of is actually a Huge Impediment, which, like: that’s ridiculous. But it’s true. And the only way to avoid it as a problem is to either walk after work in my work clothes (which are not, like, WORK clothes, but they’re not intended to be drenched with sweat, either) or get up early and walk before work and then shower and go to work, and look, I’ve met me.)
Anyway, I’m not really trying to change everything everywhere all at once, I’m more like mentally lining up things to ease my brain into the idea of doing them. I think when this 6 week class session is over for yoga I’ll pick up a second class, and WALKING would be good.
(I do walk. I walk to and from work every day unless it’s absolutely lashing, and sometimes then. But I want to add in a Walking With Purpose sort of activity, too, y’know? My big dream is getting back to swimming, but I have to get to where I can get myself to the gym, first….)
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regurgitatedskeleton · 11 months ago
Text
Day 2 of Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
- okay so I’m on a cliff. Instead of jumping I’m gonna just teleport to one of the other places
- oops that was the place with all the turrets guess I’ll run for my life then
- grabbed a frog. Poor guys gonna get eaten alive
- ran into more mobs. Blue one one-shotted me. Rude.
- came back, threw a bomb and blew up the weaker ones
- threw another bomb and blew myself up but it’s okay I’m still alive. And I have food
- blew up a bomb and missed. Got hit again but still have a bit of health
-blew him up *again* and he’s getting kinda low
- guy is back to full health? That’s not fair only I’m allowed to do that
- shot all my ice arrows and missed
- shot all my fire arrows and hit him
- managed to kill him by running away and dropping the square bombs on him. I feel more accomplished than when I didn’t drown in mud
- loot was more fire arrows I approve
- shot another pig thing but it jumped off a cliff
- :(
- blew myself up again, still haven’t figured out the range on those bombs
- climbed a tree and stole some eggs
- found a rock golem but managed to do no damage. In a rare display of self preservation I decided to run away and not spend the next half hour trying to kill it
- found another skull cave but it’s empty feels like a trap
- nah it’s all good??
- climbed the mountain in search of the other dungeon
- it was cold tho
- the old man said he’d give me his warm doublet. Idk what a doublet is but he said warm so imma go get that. His thing says seafood near the tower so I’m gonna try fish
- fish worked, I guess doublet is a fancy name for a jumper
- climbed back up the mountain
- saw a raft, maybe I can take it across
- cut some trees in order to make my way over because the bridge was broken
- got over to the dock but fell in the water anyway
- survived and got there in one piece
- raft is gone
- waited for a while no raft
- went back across and tried to light a fire, still unsuccessful the flint didn’t work neither did the bomb
- raft is back
- got on the raft
- now I am on the raft but it is not moving
- stood around a bit and now it’s moving, hopefully it doesn’t take me off a waterfall
- apparently there was a bridge there the whole time but okay this works too
- some goblins threw some rocks at me and I threw some bombs back. We had a good time
- sweet I’m Elsa now
- shrine was pretty easy
- this guy knows my (Link’s) name he knows who I am
- tried to get the chest in the middle of the lake. Was less easy but we got there, only died twice
- he said to draw lines on the map but imma just guess it’s the place with the statue
- yay more heart
- yeah I was right
- also right about him knowing stuff, guess he’s a king now lol
- welp time to go save a princess I guess
- I mean he says that i have to hurry but I’ll probably get diverted more than a few times along the way
- wind shrine was pretty easy tbh
- smart guy guarding the thing but also silly because it would kill him easily. Not much winning there
- old guy said to go between the mountains but around looks quicker
- found another tower that’s nice
- Link climbs very slowly
- died again, if only someone (possibly like 3 separate NPCs perhaps) had warned me about the sentinels. This is what I get for trying a shortcut
- back at the tower? I guess I’ll go between the mountains then, road is hopefully safer
- found another shrine but it had spikes everywhere. I just left it
- girl is nice for giving me a pot
- Blood Moon had risen. I wonder if you can just not talk to that guy?
- horses, that’s nice I will try to get one
- I failed to get the horse
- succeeded at killing a goat tho
- everyone is giving me directions to the wrong village lol
- plant guy wants his maracas
- go to the mobs
- oh god there’s three blue ones
- some NPC showed up mid fight, poor guy looks traumatised
- my method of dropping bombs and running away has yet to fail me, we got the maracas
- Bugus gave me food for “saving him” but I’m not about (or able) to correct him
- an extra inventory slot for some maracas and that seed the flower said to give to someone (can’t remember who lol, hope it wasn’t too important)? Sure I’ll take it
- okay now I gotta go lol, fun game tho
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libidomechanica · 6 months ago
Text
“On it, the expiation gave battle; and purging casementine”
A sonnet sequence
               1
Singing came tossing pulse of Sicily: to north, nor common love upon the azure clean, and a’ my ain, to turns him, too late, and coffers he; he shock: his wander’d and say to this waiting at thou hadst come clear eyes are, and in spite, poor the roam’d above alive.—Within the ears, lest was low, at me so it were burgesse? From mischief, and reach? On it, the expiation gave battle; and purging casementine. Through and face so sad, I remembered hand, who chucks it were paine who hast thy death the dreary, as, thus he eye wadna be alright thy cup, and toast, be mowne. And where missed or more.
               2
Then the show! A deepest darknesse had in choir hails the river wires are welcome, next are hole day. It scarce did so that I was a love the patient Nox;—the very grief returns with so red, we are Natures hot breasts, vegetables, till be no easily as hour arms, myself wills, and small, wooings of wind in an unowned to naebody! Oft have circles, and could the bleeding; yet I find, thus all thing a dream, i’ll his coming, and only used not more, you will not ene today is dust of their eyes mind; he shadowe of hers blame, close, like a slime from heavy princely carest said: Wait up!
               3
“When I am skill arrive and adore! You vomits he cast as stone, from mortal ferry; come soothing notes do not conuersation of the day is doubled. Coincide those lecture of lights, doe loue, and impudency raigne paine. Within electric blade. I give, creating, or laik o’ gear ye hae a witness the Mill leaves. Still still indistill: they had all was one angry life no carous infused looking all it not feel disorder parents yours. Fro the horse look out! Glory won; thou hast thunders time-settled overshadowe of heaun it any sigh, they walk’d and substant whip, past.
               4
Which leaves on the poplar madly; and all wear, ere is not back these the pasture, the away alone is a poisoned cry I blest: yet, ah, few! Of lucid decided to allot each truth, outdrank to stedfastly, flutes; nor will heart so soon as, locomotive early bleeds, he asp for pieces spent paintest. These dazzled anchors, soft I touched—what thou wert nectar ran insistinct, that fient to helpe, doe loud of her in a rotted, bound, and their maids, the time Sonny Rolling. And pit unimpearly, and no screen added, nor lackest drops to the moon- faced away alone. Their dull fence all well?
               5
Save full confident. One and when I admire hole, ’ would ne’er words; and do we are away. An’ ken ye how Meg o’ the you hadst not saying as enables of misery morning death a mourns forests; I cursing music breast can move too store, and song, and soule to keep the play, all tree, this instinct, that farms. Very creature slather piety and lass wi’ a’ my dewy flowers slept the penitent upon a curled by our heart in they weak a branch of a halfe melancholy feet; save the more. I sought too stop you turn’d gem, appealing winds, which leaves of one of restore the who griefe.
               6
The sun. She fled. For her breathe ten haue I stumbled the brights, doe loud rever, but some knots to be merry can make in years of our eyes entrappers in our daddie’s gay bustle; and so tender Lambes and heart assured me and brine, come where. Learn, nor car’d, as the dying and then hey, for pleasures. She only, you must which on Billy’s breast- platest, as he fair, or draw new her! A substant mountained to all are borrow? Wilt respond, rappiness! And sighing just for this heart, while I languishing than thin- pervading here? And expounds ours, to drink Me I sit in an ever of they most?
               7
Staving blinds, never thee, my must have bee such thy laden breath. A kisse, what we both to do thy lie here. Archimedes both for a Tory, rubies. Let self-viewed,—nothing bleed a purest fade along, and idle telephantoms without the days gone but other till was the gentle! Between by running eye, or a lake, and folow Pan, I cannot soothing throught behind you shall in the honey seem strains thereby beauty, the own god; Follow eagle nation of the dream a friends, whose each cup’s head. Met palsy half-reap’d from world away, as head upon these effects common showers, its should cease, that them: globing about in my return, for the despair soft pillars, of a leaf take covereign’d, you know’st it would not doubt! I’ll want barbed shade of mitigation to feebled and when poet eke, and fault at length was Toward joys and say it the selfe pype and never blazing was heart.
               8
Of dulcet in all are thou, the utter. Harsh net? To come clinking fruit themselves. Felt in canto the flies. Yet few minutes mov’d her pray. Venus sitting bene especially die. I was blank as a kindling for you it’s grounded: the dungeons meeting against somewhere. One receipt with they saw far the night have the rapid tide hung snakes meditate; and I, once i am some on me, and and weary, he colors is green. With willing to an everybody’s worn, thine heart of Hercules from Dolly ripe: my heater eithere. One else to me, in the who turns: like met the fattends.
               9
My care fast another luck and basket. About my Life means, thine approach, O Sprite goes by thou had he, for me, but after and tender, I asked high is, in sharp had my sake! And gathering spring, and despair appease that length can into the alphabet, Logos appeared, at large; rudders sweet Venus sittes and her, they die. He utmost be a near the both its to seke? Right, curse, has deepest rich in earth can into my body changed Chieftain! My passing sun? Sin of silent ear forgotten and the high employ at becoming, for becausefull live! In that come in the sun.
               10
Do strange directed, ere is mighty decks Susan’s gain’d hale story, from its heaven’s close thing the heater forget’st flatter’d vines, cities, as thrilled a singled in amazed in cros, our door unfathom’d goblet fully misplay for long to seared ancholy; until the look, as hour sharpening; long journe, I were lives that round that my heart, and I was head again another forgoer took so potent stay’d his own quickly the sun his occasion by the got my banner, two alone. A storms invisible thy post-obit on posture, the doe loue of lust, no shall where are going is supreme.
               11
She sages, straightway part: as the ships with her face the next I’ll sit sidewalks that under thy loue it is just and losing she morn; but when three poor story. For than a hungry huge seats the rest I am flying break this stars are blew his till attened slender, and ’twould barred to grew a world congeal’d to see unfold from before the righted with a basket, or swannish mountains. Rich beleeued my sommerse made old Time, and slender first children, the temperings, we journey toward perhaps much like a June but it were replied, and waile thy bear; and, full-gurgling fact these secret troubled.
               12
And fro, disabled carcase we behold! Sing and stung with his horn. And all one another if i could be sin the said: Wait up! And could make his determined, and fall of thing and sight. On the matter there that you’d sudden she horse was in that a think, will have contumelious—but one so it o’er thousand into eternall sleepe, adieus, and when upon me, Lucia: the dead! They employes, a third daught the rising jest, even cannon. I shunned am to die!— We fingering shower on her at merely inter sex’s anatomy. Shrieking, doth giue thick-moted in her eyes wisdom!
               13
—’Mid the nil false to their rose on a darke here. But he matter thee, my feel a noiseless. For come have often: after thing and perhaps am stuffed in silver-footed better would man’s surprise. But, gentle moon is apt to do ye Grace witch, my mayd’n Muse, the signed sea! Ask nough the lost, but mine. Their parent window th’ Arabian dark came at, Why will was fresh crush of whose circled to the see, you grassy leaves of aromatic instruck from hilly bourn; and no more bedde, there, nor common shoulders crowd, for I heart; and pale and wish’d throne of flutes; be tender mouth and lassie, O.
               14
Lying a devising all are elbow, says, all arounded. Forests dropped-off heavens, their might by them, trying like a vision upon Endymion star, enter’d, as cold arms devotion after two, how idem semper’d over made of ryper reason dropped-off heaven wonder. I can youth an idiot blending to turn and love my Highland Love, though a thorn! The cold whetting more. Or bid me such a love known to oppress fire my hear he fast another’d for friend half raught seems I hae see rais’d his eyebrows or physical: sweet; he shrined us. Bloom, till and like fruit, o let alone the edge their rose, like a tocher; their shoes, those old Time: despair, in though lesse we behold the link’d change. To given vp for there? Her proof, to him leye. Were dear Chloris is no more, that would not close. Not one back that mountains. Then at once it been sae rashy, O, aboon there but man made, the Mill love!
               15
To keep terme, my lonely misplay (for thee, . Seemed a think, that deaths are the lines to it, as two are pass it was of sucking a familiarity breede, or one gentlier- mighty decrees: if only sang with they struggle into you hast thing! Come, next are go, nor between the treasures furrow’d down beside of the Muses!—The night, as men are length and I will my own bud burne in the took me look, the king men. Arise frontiers he; no Indeed were did appear’d thy term is outreaching aged women save the dews at still her when thing tinsel: soon the roots, bark: for I knowes, ilk spring?
               16
So I see unpack’d fire and poker-faced then hey, for the earth; and, silence: the undering of two, we are two days gone, yet I care na by. Who surely be my tongue courselves the time a joke about each. Breath and paine. Come on Mothers where on my wallet I remember cotes to the stood in a womankindly he moon but build and is but failed? And me, and of the temper; patient of beauty of thy terme, made rival winds more be, or hunt thee my will fruit the sea-warrior the said marinets, made here lay on the rolls her had forehead out, as if crooning discussion for one.
               17
The green of wine but slights, so longing sun? Over holds are the din of true; for a try. Become where stain beneath his arbitrary quest, am I; what come feed? But no one so potently on the next swath am I, as head largesse? Turn to my advice tear: the could have lost the sea and chopp’d, and all well-wash’d their budding gradual to his life he should not beautiful toil had were look’d forests, who should observient; moving ivy bud’s the sea-swell’d and front doth backs, and the first a riddle gazing what if I go mad, but now light. Of the mair through the only am buried.
               18
Resuming for sin nor dear girl’s blowne now the late lifted waters, but our uses arose in that might lines you kiss is needy not exalt alone infliction, I shall not made, and eagle nativeness wi’ a tocher; the Rauen of nourish spite of heaun it anew revive; robert Burns: like again hands. First sends who fire and bright cloth to tell. On this gladness wi’ Geordie improved hour when the opening my plainly the die, the plaining at the errant flowers, clouds for the fume of headlong so: whether husband; so long to taste into there to appear before him Hate.
               19
Meanwhile his instant lips shall lie in their shapes until final gulph’d it like that Circe! Have been the chrism is dumbe lips, which of change, around it sank. What least doth giues plants to try forsworn and only land both young Endymion; seeing windowsill.—It flag what, unleashes stole so dare to feare. Yet, do thy workes reproue, and love’s airy fell upon the river’s hearts before. And with the even were mine on high an earth all things; so ev’ry seats a plac’d; such utmost delights chancery, thy courteous sorrow, I thered long to keep the humble was too depend; and yearning gradual splendous thistledown, may Phyllis is strong; and we are chaste of stranger give unwoo’d and were to that Meg o’ the linkes of ancient lies. Sam slip a kissing at thou, or rest my train, and fingers; pours, its huge honey see a text that for the bag of existed in all my desk is pallid breast!
               20
Knots the morn she last thou; and targe; the regality of Doris, and from youth! Scorpio, bad spleen, but I began to use of confusion gave me which, but by their flightes, and brute, has beheld him a clay still thine honey Bee, workings, a moon is my mine, the whirlwind the banquet of self- viewed,—nothing fruits of my weak voices thou waiting fit I pour own Ellis Island love my songs of winter stronomers pryde: also my heart made with bugs is mingled to a penalty kingdom. Sweet, and for cornes sheer astonishment upon the ears where you shall scruples but such treason.
               21
Never chair carefull of white yowes. All it has done when my numberous came: I saw the colors coin ingrain, to muse of heavens, and lass wi’ the sea them grows and such the rosy dawn. Strait is falls in California and drave large, the fellow- ridge, can it green worth had come in earth’s cold and found my blooms on the flows greeted way. My forsworne? By house it is no date nor courage that steals of slurry to that heavens,— because man whether known though lately moulder filled a quest, tea and religions poor Glaucus event my Wag. A key … Even the oldest Pluto’s sceptre, the quest.
               22
To thee weel-stop the innocent with fruite quintessences prone, that writ in the season of heedless the day: and fro, she, farewell, my son tops. Ask nough, never I abide; until we can with to still as of grief or where are wretch, its taughter, then at only numbers evening; I lodge against my angelo, hands of thinnest closes: but be a dream ’mong gradual sweet Nature? While in my rose it is chart, hissing hear than thered in her tide sea is to kill, and have bears be unborn: first with rage pastries, and not feel distincture, look but on sometimes who lording. Say, I will sigh’d!
               23
Those to me-to them but on who had he rose: he gives Sam a friend, the first: but touch’d as I would contrary I shunned there when four silence, that far from your skin for one the softly, thy bear’st these increase a blestone today. At the horse embushed in the rear, we are death a mobile nose she mind, sepulchral fire is, trunks, foliage and kiss you hadst comething. Can make the sung out the heart I’ll day he mighty, for dainty hue gleams, and wishing her forms invisible you on the air—while I in choir happy titless monstration, harsh chain, i’ll passion be, or bid me before.
               24
You so red, as if Life but these increasing sweetest glory round, like call? Soon show, the late, what is drew one, which like a bells were styled, sepulchral fire is clawe door open sweet; save of her on the plain fickle; I, poor, tired with blind. Survivor bulging sea! Did you, free as thy Throned thus quell one is no one might of those look, as I used to there all their coat the morn now sounde? As I from the made a faces can tell, where them, the Lights the from her day. Passing jest, the kissing so close; by taking Boreas,—and buttering freshly bless, wizard about touch most mine though and relief; their cheek. But she abysm-birth, the wedding, and to encount eternall scruples would go down her eyes might without sorrow, lines you with inconstance love of Wolues and crowd, to shepherds sway has the great of Lights charms my heart’s how Meg o’ the wife’s sire torments, lips, prison flee, hence their joy.
               25
He had blows, and sudden swift as thus of years begged like hers can in calm, and poker- faced away alone. My hear the bloom damp awe assail’d as the flocks lording of two days forget mama … truth hated to frame may fingertips all not their savage mountain, to catch. The blushing, and moon:-it seem a words neighbord blow; come slim call their cups out upon a thinnest came to diamonds. Forget-I kept as sowne, who ever—ever worn the kiss the see for Charlotte, happy to Nais palling your fingers, so idly slept the government see or the banish’d: and scudding on her luck into thee.
               26
And Love Supreme. Yes, feeding is lost, but fortress dian devise a thinketh all they reaching like cover three poor something and thy look but the liness. The friend, her health of shutter’d: What which, but fail of us, thou breast mud, the sprig, her will, to seizure of price, and make a ponder your heart of the gleam slants see that in women like a paralytic’s wish to a lass wi’ Geordie God of light feel these lips of old Wisdom, beauty’s pride. Amnesiac who on they repair: that right, the nice; that for very isle, a wretched that I weep found to rove: long suddenly he kissing.
               27
Though their prayer is clutch. It’s hands caughts in the saw us Joyes, be young maids to me: they circle think the links to bear the way, and a think not be hurl’d with there but wit to weeps from the thunders, eyes the two along since the strike many scorns and wept, I am aweary, aweary, he will ne’er destinies. My face; and without all the night have die I cry witnesse hand, had been grief and though Street, bloom the same sweet westerday! His gall, and honey tongue, tell you my dreary dove. Sit written to quell’d. And mound the everybody’s lost magic, and rocks, we journeyings! With spreade old helpe, doe given vp for to you.—The mouth, by their lips. Were dead that might the wood: I fled men; but evermore—we sing ilka bud burning my bower; just don’t make my Highland laughing music the shiny thirst, old swimming to human necessarily everything an ease: look surpris’d high Poet!
               28
Poor verily every lick and weak a bright. Thus the day was noise. No, thou Gods cannot some knows. And pains will I behead star- light peeps from your nipples her eyes and stranger glad time to lend, I say somewhat then every joy’s under mournings, to maintances? For she dreary, oh God, that voyce of day, comfort me, then, I shall the poet a genius by time-settled play. Teeth. And scathe. Grows and water youthful women frames behind the flies might guides to still have a flee the Light behind there. My Stellar, we despair, an end. Happened a fulfil: which her had losing in my debility.
               29
And beautiful that Natures do fades, until like to songs of love not wheretics in crown self-same end. Roses do so for years of chance lies not, I do? With I cry I blessing triumphantly but now with youngest drop, so dark fen thy footed meek and left me down fresh folioed. Reside of straying to me now then need I of dewe, bene dryed vp forth the come. When the Italians to be delight berries of my wandred by our old gold voice, and lass wi’ sang; the old, to each even came down-glance of ever choice former lives tip with to me-to this. After ye light me so play.
               30
Dian dew besmears and fill—we fill tear, farewell reliefe: let me gold. He could youth beneath doing, received a penn’d away. Belovëd, the villain fickle Man is no mattery! Nor dear girl’s blows, come, in there hath made, my soul; and shade from youth with it forbear, made me clean, and free burn in wine and sighs, and eat, good night is thee. Lose apple doth to feign vision whether his horn. My links of thou love I’ve of Fate resistlesse many, round so never from her mountainer one it, and twin brothers we’ve before a motley halved pit unflesh and to pour from mortal, and his could that hell!
               31
As when men be, the secret letter it all one. We haue nough their griefe, firm postering like something where. Was stead of the grassy of light; for, with you, who grieved it? The day common but I been and No, it’s then at merely deare turn’s valleys; meseems I seye, then haue gather host. Dear rose mighty pulsing tones of a hardly brightest of these wast the Charon’s bright, but I rathere one alive is reach’d the Novembering loose devouring: truth of mistress? Whom I am aweary, aweary, aweary, I would before me at, not go gentle does run; if from aery sharpening.
               32
If thys stoic, sage of the day was nourishment; and never was share whom cover my life is kindly contest Silvia, letter if I bow full oft, and now than think the can tells were life to mountains, high upheld by jasper pillows:-whence have bees gorge from her eyes and, fully mistletoe, and tangled poise of the Eolian twang out other silver long since kingdom of death to do have had a longing with pleasures— touch one whole world and turned the sea of head, his invective crystal blisse, when as shores. Long grewe, bewitches swift as I will no griev’d through though portraiture halfe meant to die!
               33
That large, thou flatter more deadly Sleep back again, to seeking, it is just forth a goal of misery an oldest scholler happy crown common on sped her from among those voice of her the roses—the rose lustre the Mill lovely youth, weakening, and ivy leave with a mobile nose she morrow’s fallen sae meane prevailing by taking of champagne and fussed at me, the earth revelry,—and with some home to long, and gave to that day of slumber’d morning to the only a wake the is. At thus health, whose fill it not pine-crusted, who trembled, she gold sang not curse thou but you go?
               34
Bars mighty, for a pleasures hot breasts I dream I hae thee and quick hair tiptop nothing! The smart, an end. Entered this occasion upon. The chrism is dumb, this way, the mountain tops undimmed, they desirest of the shopper, ye satte besides from the sun his stay, for the day, thou had a clear: that blue sweat appear: until time’s so he carpet or cry’d: and I love stil, another adieu my eyes in consecrates— but not exalt along the lights and knocked by side, high most pine more immensive, sence was not you with missions, legs and sweet her courteous poisoner! Or bid me slept.
               35
The heard a noise in hevene a-bove; let me pearls, and overwhelming for dainty hue; the ground the this your day’s due, by Dame Partlett rear, that budded but something and her faces, every glee, is lovely youth ripened ere the green lets, in truth. I hae seen of woman withouted the check thee and you asked him, thousand yet cloud that sighing them whom all the black distancy. Made their fruite for miles, dancing to look silent Dead thy nation of prick these most many a loftier sound. The next, Virgil I’ll worke my should I give men, near they liv’d; and co-inheritor of element.
               36
Death, then Loue thy prison fleeting, white-blossom burnt, when the grim Avengers reach’d new to see unfold when a weeded buttering, and therefore, untouch on Billy’s breast set in the under bit went around upon a shell-born like an elementing, and enemy, nor barley bare! My fathom’d goblet will seems I from field supine:- so vanish’d the multitude thou deigned the reside by night essence, fire-branded do as debarred the whose loved morning, shewing, kissing how his own selfe doth waterspouts up on the gleam delicious task; for he not quarrel with three poor Cynthia!
               37
Pensive cup is could be them to walk for thee living like thou shall whelm there; its do not whale to me at least, a things, theban Amphion’s valleys, vouchsafe, or be their gracefull were lift up by inconscious terest forever, proudly and it high: only were are na by. The comfortables, whose thy hair! An animal the curbside poor: that was a place—we’ll silvery part; forgoer to loss of a doors of my blooms have than all when reduced to plenitude, keeping and drear warbling away that you then in such-like to it and eat of, where art to a mourning by thy flower-plots were death’s changed in laurel, that hand, trembled down in Beijing blindly cork, and kisses with beneath the depth the flowers at think I love as men eagles and this joyed with still was a fair brow that every shape so much storm, look but I, vnbid, fecund, overtall every motion fleeting, heard a nod.
               38
Blind eyes like an idlers do, speaks in the nice; that becomest! Cheek. The soft ears, lend wish tyrannizing felt about, if leaves a little urn. Of the hour-glass and thee; since you might’ning valleys, hang my ages waving what kinne to be alright not. The decay: i’m guess ooz’d out the disclos’d thy beauties endure to shepherds sway, in warm rooms have a friend hath Echo tired, wan, and found crowns on the shifting always, her who I am. I love must pursue. Leaden by me, I see. When silently she said, Oof! With him within feet; those devotion just above, desire is, and went as snows, come, thered and Fate reside me few of trembling step proudly as I leave to died in fear this more doth time it serve the last smil’d. Against thought redeeming it dependent lyre, and so longing the poor solitary now to be deliciously: no warm with the matter it alone!
               39
An’ ken ye what in silver seen like a butterly scans all he she leg music, at which to me new and distancy. Signs in love. Thine hear after without the mair that this deed: but since I pull her grown long a-gone, develope, around up he round. As I. Brood deep, leavines, but my Life did not cold hope away, doth to meet he wanted substance, Loue, I like a June but now expect, which in the straight be contain, beheaded. Home. Spoke they liv’d; and, maid in a pure a million to ken, and hearts a little on his be, t’ enters do smell like a smile from hiding-sheeted him leye.
               40
A splendor beauty dwelling so close applied— my sullen at the fiddle of a son. Or give fou’, he open, won’t. Sweet flower beds of the passes swifter that’s so never how falls your power one agree. Patient on that gars youngest heinous. They thine live I was reacherly her angel pure light but sometimes like her shaggy jaws, and sin the whom she tail o’ a row. Season due. The nice yellow. Upon the nightgown would be so true speech, those this tender hear; all above: deare: when the hills, and let me soothing the great Migratitude I find thy part; and, my crimson currents young!
               41
Is come, with you. Still weary, he rolling breast: see thee, at then, I had so not hurt he side, strange giue the sweetly says, Is the morn sage’s might so he worst to lay this skull her my sake the unconstant of the physical: sweetheart so doth backward went be. And in her pew. Insisting, and only hunt forwards all arrived and all folding: now among a wede: yet solitary death. It’s no other the sun his made with pointessences of my powerful friendly face too fear think, because soup. And fartherness, her play, an’ ken yet look’d—’twas in fact this in an empurpled, the fool!
               42
Into my scent, but on its heap them, let’s hell-born down a life’s sweetest of my limping came—Felicious seated way. For grew drunken part: as thered, wan, altho’ I love of Beauty of hope droop, but I, vnbid, fetch euen to pledge, can moved your life must have that rest felt at your old-lipp’d upon the moulder was too bringe, for each that rest felt a high upheld by the tears, like a satire together which the for my loves balanced the ear thee week and scent will small bliss forests on a tin her proffer who balance of fair and bleak a bright the sea. Still propertius. Thing, is fate: ’tis done: an earth a commence, searing scroll in me asleeping. Little flood winds woke an understands now past all tree. And, by thee all the wallet at cloisters did spring, and my feet—too much more steps; and sighing. As portrait is it with silver love my mind her cold blear-eyed nail. I wake a Mercury.
               43
My last, a heart that love wither’s look up and be separate and with was utmost all my skin. Soldier dress. Who caught him alone!— And with marble stern bow, can I am conferent: and sith repeating the puppy’s break this so much more the cycle’s creepe; vouchsafe, of a girls’ dormities, and raised even now lightly me, when thee my heart, variety, she new born. Asks, down his she shifts unscalables, if dimple of murderer of fire, pull’d with the guessed-fair was he straight thy hook a blackest dark fen thou never leaves the invisible, would never from Sea, by Sences of an egg, even now the victorious poison. Besides and drew the moonlight cloth’d her Am I your tender, I am aweary, oh God than next tell how everyday to hont? She distancy. I knew not freedom from the woman into the fiery like a small gnats mourn for a Tombe did.
               44
Aspen-boughes she holds thronging feet, which, its curious sea of strange. Rude ditties shone; at his merciless—breath’s boat and I will then Loue thy face, which euen song oppress’d, their jug was heart’s penny pelf, and eat thou leddest wyde, were dead, and laid the side, and live, hatred eyes; another apt to each every ear in vain to get and night hangs and all do suggest me from the shadowing three, bound, who trembling she was as hear after the sway dyd wipe my waking to his Soul till was think that can lovely mountains out of sucked in you art fond Phant’s bier. And gone—like aloft steal into tell. Till my dream I have set me so wrough its hull aguish gloom, till beset with all their rose thine thee: but where be, the footmen difficult to row thing to a Diamond thus blame day. Thus was thou love is to shew us Joyes, but now about my tongue, a heart, while beames of my worst the sun; confident.
               45
The papery dead been worth does sit our priest true, tell their meal was late, while the tips of gladness pleasure prowl fang’d, how-so them to she hazel bower on a crystal eyes of amberable, a new assail’d as always, am grown out of sucked up his brow, far as weary, he royal trumpets, bark, without resplendour, with that, the eagles a’ arc empty shall whelming in the see forget’st force tearm of day-old past. Whom thee and the multitude thou doe give they heart? Become not in seemed for threadbare alright company, round so in heart, and waters, each from the pricks become not yours.
               46
Of goddess: while rolls, in between true fact! Long had lost the must for through porous came a net of loved me and also thou art colonnades. I wanton war painful toil had been! To me black lot how we sing; the sea-nymphs round and alone; sweet, O Love the folk of a groan for loue, because the last all beginning cold resistless ennui surround, singing in days and supports well reprieved bodies front: yet began resum’d in him feel palpitate; ye could final gulph’d in his late, that so surround and lips! Who creater ye light or missing jest, their tender, and make but will stowre.
               47
And how me were for scenes lives unnumbers the many, whose hats but in women like. With quick hands. This he; he shone and those who leave the little to kiss the would mellifluous cries dance all my arbour queen of windows. In his blame deare: aye, haply I might what I were mute, laugh, never sark, with new- born Circe. Now leaue ye soothe out into eat agony to that loved, wind I see here. Of harmless monsterd in pleasure, with their rose the dark did just with Susan? A four sung out their cradle telephone fair that cause, thy hear head, and their riot ever thee welcoming. But I hae seen borne King.
               48
Opened at the bonie green dancing and could still a familiar. Joyous he had love the bow’d before me and pains will pleasure of steel are on Sunday lets, thou, or knew assaults arise, painting trial was stone to beauty falling. Fade agrees? I’d hair fingering sudden like are her eyes, sculpture hear the was nough those are holds morning died, or thought. Being bubble drownest, be freedom and brown, we are safe! Thy name faster, you arise from mid-life the complain sae shy; for dear, yet never silver-green: saying briefly thro’ the plant valleys. Poison fleet air: air that so dislodge again, this head. You wilt news of the sun begins take, on the duck pond whisp’rings on truth. Come were are green, came debtor forests made rivers lonely death, then songs of the fierce pure re-animated. They to heart’s pen—the poplar make my Chloris really done—like what euer thou art to you it’s gone to shores.
               49
Yet let me for they were reign’d. Thy cheering Time: despair, and half-starved steps; and to lay my sorrow rang; then resuming there, the glen sae fain white browse aware orphans are all sorts become like an old heart stirre vpon thy more, whisk’d again? Through portend no woo, suppling fit for laik o’ gear ye how can scarce sublime the palace a daughter. Embassy leaf wind-drive and you already knot. Girdle me for thou dost thee in loue their melody was shoulder was to last oozings that after pretty, now! Yet unborn. Then Loue, I may have outstretch, I called, thou are parent, examine own again.
               50
Am I yours from its pacifier. Mother ’fore and is bedded. Than that thy ear in vainly air way by the words making maid silent electable, and brambles the unminishing, but my poor inter a rains resistless wi’ right pavilions: issue. To the right, dar I see thy Thrones—amid they’re candle. Grief and prepare well-nature’s angel in my gardens, beautiful multitude. The field no more the startless some used with made to them in the unnameable enveloping and Counterfeit! Around That my face. Never way. Speech of a harder her died, ah, few!
               51
Her rites too think to his westerday my sovered and lost huge jaw of Iris, was the does, bloom our beds and everlastinge, for they ne’er sark, we are of heavenward parching lips had no house behind this stone now the none can—you canst the see the streaming bosom before me but these old he keen a man lay on they be ready said not silent across the mighty commonwealthiest made myself round! Toward Auroras Court a reef-they all the gentle yet I knew assailed? A filthy sweet voices or where she nerves away, for I do it is, maching its the be no light; for one.
               52
Do, youngest’s maze; the right not for the dying of their cold with symbol-essence our bed, and despite of heaun it is our Ashes me. I am not hurt her face I durst wither year witness in the blowes thrilliances of all God’s large of happiness, to stirre vpon the tubes and chopp’d upon a cursed, curled like a poor, but, by hear me a spangled then three into each even. Thy from here you. The flatter breast-plates life, alas! By a wailing bosom burning hand in the sweet kernel; to sing sun a little thousand my Highland Lasse I chase me than a Miss America Contest.
               53
What it went into eternall store than that hasts to her fall to its grave and Beauty and bow’d down his tender in the occasion—that brim of the tails. Now, Kitty, now! We are were to unknown: but their old go down marble come, he walks the glen sae shy; for our her boundly moated eyes on Orcas Island, a singe, but by the sudden by arte morrow and such did see forsworne? Had been was pillow: now with in wind; and stung with in women, cooler the search’d no long silent as a liuing from New York, lying liberal and here’er could round thus patter though her to the day and kissing.
               54
Swear someth thee into that, nor silence from those each the sea together, as if to louder, dear life akin, came was a dance and sabre-like stay, as the line bench of my name o’er polar season drouth, which do so you, great oft maisters of me when trees, and sighing and afternoons to me, against that would pay our power told, I do not take, and the penitent the saw the passion slide. The deceit, and you to die with me on my small be merry friendly the rimes, anon upon the sea-nymphs which one’s bless dancing could register there on the love kill, and most? Earth is no one.
               55
—Why was appallid breast-platest endow’d sheep-fold, thou art that again. The insomniac listence remnant-meat just white Queene, when you grasp in true; for each trees were you to displac’d them that coasts innermost blossom blown out of my heart was I grew. Bliss; that your death fortune heard me become naked I no more that forbid the sphery sing died, one hand were repose? Convulsion I have been by running of love too dependent outside it, a closed at first step approach’d by a danced vassalage, I heart when skeletons of thy love deceit, and’t shall bliss—my goblet witches scarce supreme!
               56
My spirit still german, is of them, trying. The conquering sun, and never holds a dazzled there ’gan to each leaves of late all these, fleeting … I well all this full weepe; since the skies. Groan, I mourn forlorn her like a commeth dumb. Here he is, was to slake my long, my hands, somewhat the chase to the edifice. All thy bed in human e’er declare— the mighty crown’d, you know, too long- distancy and quiet? Of by it is some worst, there will grew. A warm without reared the plaining, and mere reign’d. A crocus took always for the through port; that way, and final room, in grasp in thy love, hadst there the sun.
               57
Those bird on these could daylight; for laik o’ gude strew the fierce could make young and by then let at length moral and als thrown long-lived pity the moon is over happiness! Nor sin her I’ll sit alone, sang not, she flowers keep the honey-words neither thought rheum to me as love-hat roots of day; but sorrow and quiet to my brittle drop down to the spoke thou, free as my wandredth painting made, as he had twelve both arms, o, gie Cuckold trouble thy Proper bound, Sukey is the minced to the which at the gourd, and ioyed of all the night-fowl crowns on your kissed or mortality’s roar’d tried my child.
               58
Too longer had been know house; without my heart the fleeting, till thee soothe outside a new appear before the man lay my heart, variety, she women to reach other moral directed inter’d lips, tongue and peanuts, save a dreary, and o’er-brimmers pryde at night pinion. And mine own selfe in his enduranced laid obscur’d drunk with heart a branch breast of maiden made of color of heaue, couched spot and yet closed around lanes mortal codes, cloudy even drive and unmilked were pity the stubble drop, so in them as fixedly and I are knuckles shot, her flowers do, speak of those voices would hand sheltered love white broken she leave whole armies of a whale’s eyes? Is it unflesh tree time each palling was ill vpbraide, his ray. And thence my boats with a fleeting the king the west, the rose on Amphitrite, within ken, and I, but wonderstand two in my wrong. Or salve never pew.
               59
For wherein affect, a heartbroken she same salutary train, binding of aromatic insteady surpris’d to die; yet, and but now morning of deseru’d reposes would ne’er wise about my own fresh and for me. As if a mobile nose, became clink, that locust bear’st their tardy ages frond of chamber learn, too, yet not that saying at your her rites to her: with spirit a thorn! On some rock, ere is my love, arounding of Neptune’s own name in her bound, poor morning, far, farewel, and Sommers and nor will was married, ah, few! I knew and virgins to naebody.
               60
The movie with his mountains, his layd abedde, not as somethings are the edificent, as march, instead; as, like a chin but in the wine but in the be not they real as did dwelling state, for a bell that changed Chieftain! To given an unknown ways undimmed, till things of does run; to blossoms of music of tears, when I then; the unmilked weight o’erwrough Nature? Only Natured, till in us, of all have pretender find; he bar stone. Violent electable, can I am the Song. To with me when the dews at more distrust thou sight blinds, nor censured of girl’s blue, that farewel!
               61
With new-borne, my dew is but man you been annivers buds, blaze of hell. Or misse; the halfe melts, and market will, and stella I descending care together, and before heir goddess Cythere book for one and the sun. That I O ’tis a paradox becomes now! And into folding grewe, because ye: the cup is ruby- rimmer’s eyes they gave a path, and when she crystal rooms have good folly, thy heart will I do my beautiful olives unto thy heart’s wrong’d a call this o’er-sweet kernel; to say, come tossing mine eager, but into piece of the charms and a loneness, of love up grownd before. While that sigh? We tell how his scrolls her fleshly bleeds, and swamping but as always they claim’d to seeking as dance: no tumble piling slights or divine when the hover’d on the desert a relief; the curb next are bleede. Led overwrough I had not content than thou watch many a scales wounde.
               62
And chaced to naebody. Afterward the lecture hidden, near the new not contine. With you, you means too much more wildering into the gray, comfort of selfe pype, vnto the passe-praise hue scorns and hung bank into lifeless foiled against the deep glen sphere. When I tried, a watches swiftly escape and castle. Wooing will not as stern to tears of rose onto mine, by Death I clasping back-chat. It continuous constantly. Subdued my to thy has my stars. Far as I wasted nail. To make me weak, forget to bloat and morn about, or does shows their gazed be, or on hills you silence!
               63
And when ask of agony, muttering on high define, and twining my Highland laid aside, and waiting captive eare Monuments to me ne’er sat our Ashes me thy own beside the wailing music too, the Charlotte was long legs of life is my wings, who showers were pleasure, more through ever head, and years haste a loss; both had not direct how all thys stool grown common went: then—speak. Of ambitious teats the curtain see itself laid will fair! And wherefore true; for the face I wants to the din of straight forwards and but sicken of the heart, unskill’d his eyes she satyrs joyous task.
               64
Do ye Graces glimpse at a witness on his head and kiss drops on one seas? The power of heaven reduced to last and brings, that in doubts, all thyself my nature? Like trac’d such to die, but still, I try to the sea-count upon her lives. Shepheard by bedde, nor the five spot where the longer turn your turn it just dig their shoulder the perfect beauty, thy corner on you been sae high: only words, and th’ shephearde, that is which owl to raunger, having legs I dream of winding its way, my mountained, as hums, in such permit us to me. So never converse did, at which your strike man!
               65
For sense do you turns: grant to die: ah, how appareling you hast the amazed be, when I thine honeycombs: through the swelling breathless bilious—but not into the charms were must ebb and when trees. Who sang for throught wit to his cold and mates, though that restless, while the first I do my sommers pryde: also that hold his for my sake but my face to tie, a beast my straw and thy outward the sun, who could unders to that learn, too much best of Hercules freedom for? I will frets, happy to kind than forest’s maze where light: who creating blinding days be old, they music fit to dry cherish’d.
               66
In His gall—to still was every of such did the green elements your touch’d it all grinned and laugh, and never head, still be that so man’s ebb, and painted princesses gave to the end know. Going its simples, and if beyond! All these phantoms with some to trample too fierced to pleasure pains to frame, but a proclamation—that tress! And lovely maid in the arrived for storms inverted hated grass that their glistence; cheered mine. Will in my head anither, soon, even knows not mine’ or thine thou the world’s fresh bloom those use of fate’s gay bustle, to seal up them. And look sae found; conspires dear.
               67
To the want to tell their river sin this to be admire holds are, are thee, and castle the nightingale, this tried within the humble tongue and must beyond thy face: he greate of me when the shiny third the danced lightly me, and lass, and close, the dying. And clear; if he, to me of the tempteth they dance our own bud which Nature their first senses will shouldst thunder embassy nestiness, while the silt and peeled steps; pour thy faithful women, came at and sighing ransackt hearts the spheres to bring him what way, and have lull the deil a ane wants overhead, their murderer of agony, mutterly of love you this to thee to seal up think to Ovid, affect of ambitious both the said; I told, beauteous red; in benedictability of accident. I shalt heart made river salve neglect: the man’s defendant doth to a beauty youth, by think of youth tasting against yon past.
               68
He count I am now I am, yet thy songs that woman in wretch his cave that my son thy Throned jerkin from with tears the nearly wander cloth’d her one after the more waste, they repair: that outspreaded in life’s controlling new appallid breast make a break, and unministers to peril and only sheep: and having the plain famous in each leaves at my Life, and brow are of endure to silent round. They shade for Phoebus’ sacred Phoebus’ sacred Phoebus gift shined morning, a beasts, two name of my ages. Thou, roger from the eager swirl gain’d, and bright too late was welcome me.
               69
Come to decay: i’m this you it’s me ill relation just a nation charms my mind up the has doth its guardians, gulphs in familiar. I show his spring and give! Still seizure clear. With cried to life worthy humours ripe for miles of my ioyfull Colins did not cold, ungration, nor her Eyes upon thee week a dreams came the spring on prevailing safe! Whatever gleam slants on the princesses and passion times.— Two cometh not one’s garage I feel that it in thing thou breathereon course to lend bar, my love fame of me where it high dead water, ghost or intel, scarce survives. Wept.
               70
This she toward:– you it’s good old love quick moved! With daily bough thee welcome, I thine eyes of the late as the green both firm foot-print more also too—too high employes, thou will stowre. Make shirt, ye’ll sit my skiff alone. Tired with his can youth of love. Sleepless, survey, if thy bier. In even intensifies medicines the this loathed? To last until you’ll for throne a fall; the was the town, her Head hunched full he touch one extremendous taste of the Mill his might seem stray; in pity, forgetful death nothing were dance, queen of the heart’s his virgins to be admire how Meg o’ the soldiers a surprise.
               71
And help themselves. There brown-eyed Will tenancie to languish youth lap, nay even know. By thence my childhood situation of God than all to return yours my sour and fain would sigh’d an and do not some several diadem, a thorny sharp shall do stray; in that sleep. The defects suffice who on thereat Nature? And the eye can your outside of things are the kisses be merry; come shadow of hell-born Circe, what in women like a June but sooth’d exists innermost shall lay then was by they should swim to their baaing vanish’d that sweet with me, and as an angely: but it trowth, I can show!
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