#when will marvel let old men kiss each other ?!

[littlebean2905]

So beautiful

let time pass.

[willowed-wisp]

könig as a dad (part two)[ könig ]

part one | part three

- In your second pregnancy he is much more likely to take in more missions (you told him to- ordered even)

- He HATES being away from you and your little boy.

- Marvels at how much he has grown in a couple of weeks.

- When his missions last for more than a fortnight, he goes stir crazy but focuses on the task at hand to get back to you

- Nobody knows he’s a dad at KorTac, he’s not close to any of them

- His greatest fear is for his kids to ever be scared of him.

- When he comes back, you don’t even realise until you see him in the rocking chair by the crib- your baby boy in his arms. Whatever wounds he has tended to by you, you MUST insist and pry your son away from him.

- Is glad that your boy will have a sibling very close in age- conceived a month after his birth. He was a very lonely child, he’s glad his kids won’t have the same experience.

- Presents you with another crib, and would be offended if you ever bought one.

- The cribs are very stable and thought carpentry looked good on him.

- He was going to teach his kids it, as his grandfather taught him.

- Your kids are named after his grandparents (I’m convinced he was raised by them in the Austrian countryside) and they were the only source of kindness in his traumatic childhood.

- The birth comes and it’s another boy.

- Next pregnancy comes in quick succession, and it’s a baby girl.

- Ahhh, that was why he got a four bedroom house… sly bastard.

AGES 0-4:

- Not afraid to change diapers or sick, he’s seen so much shit in the field… it doesn’t phase him

- Records everything! He’s such a documenter, he has very little photos from his youth so makes sure he takes them in excess.

- He manages to record all three children’s first steps and jots down their first words.

- Loves watching you teach your kids very early on, is so proud whenever they do something new.

- Your boys take after his height, they stick out like a sore thumb in nursery when around the other kids. And König doesn’t tolerate bullying, you rein him in from going yourself.

- He’s been known to make grown men cry and the kids at nursery look at him in fear. Even if he smiles.

- Mums flirt with him sometimes, he ignores them. He’s only there for the kids.

- Is sad when your kids start growing out of clothes, reminds him they’re growing up and in a matter of years they won’t need him anymore.

- He loves your kids equally but may be more attached to your daughter. She was premature and doctors said she may not make it.

- Cried in private when she was stuck in an incubator for weeks on end. He doesn’t want to burden you or unsettle the boys.

- When she could be held, he couldn’t let go. His sweet angel, so tiny compared to his large body. A kiss to her forehead.

- Your sons don’t know what to make of the small creature that cries in the middle of the night. You hoped they would come to understand what happened when they were old enough.

AGES 5-9

- Your boys look out for each other in school- König made sure of it.

- He also instilled them to watch over their little sister when she would attend primary school.

- You had to hide a bullying incident, every one of them concerning your little girl. Knowing what would happen if König found out.

- But he knew. He checked in with her every day after school and she told him, “It’s because I’m littler than them,”

- “I was picked on, for being too big…”

- “Really, papa?” With eyes like his own, the soul hadn’t been taken out though. “I wish I was tall like you…”

- He holds her on his knee, “You are perfect just the way you are, little mouse.” Giving him the love he rarely had gotten from his own parents.

- His constant lesson to his children is ‘be yourself’. Something he wishes he had learned at that age and onward.

- If your sons are picking on each other, he puts them through the wringer and gives them a hard time.

- He lets them then figure it out between themselves.

- Helps with homework, though literature and comprehensive skills aren’t his thing. Science and maths are his jam, though. Your kids are getting good grades from homework assignments.

- Walks them home from school, on the daily.

————

masterlist

[archangeldyke-all]

wedding day hcs plss 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

AAAAAAsladjfslkjdf butterflies

men and minors dni

you guys are gonna laugh but sevika's a bridezilla. i'm not joking.

like you would think she'd be all chill and let you take the reins with the planning, but she doesn't. she's all over that shit.

silco's her best man, obviously. he's just as involved and worried about the big day as she is.

every weekend between the proposal to the wedding, you, silco and sevika can be found flipping through bridal magazines or tasting cakes or visiting venues. you usually just chill and let silco and sev make all the big decisions.

it's cute that she's so involved, but sometimes she stresses herself out.

two months before the wedding, the caterer's chef has a heart attack, so they have to cancel all their future jobs until he's better. sevika's freaking out, pacing a circle into the carpet and tugging on her hair.

"sev, it's okay, honey. we got two months to figure it out." you say as you wrap her up into a hug. she lets out a loud sigh against your shoulder as she wraps her arms around you. "talk to me." you whisper against her head. she huffs.

"i just... i never thought i'd get to have this. i thought if i ever got married it'd be to commit tax fraud or something. and now i have you. and you're perfect. and i get to have you forever and that's perfect... you're the love of my life... and i want it to be perfect." she says.

"it'll be perfect." you say, pressing a kiss against her lips. "it's us, sevika. so long as we get the 'i do's out it'll be the best day of my life." she snorts.

"even if there's no food?"

"even if the whole venue catches on fire baby. 's long as i got you i'm happy." you promise her.

when the big day comes, silco finds you in your dressing room.

"you look marvelous." he says. you jump at his sudden appearance but wrap him up in a hug.

"thank you." you say. he kisses your cheek then pulls away from you to look you in the eye, a grimace on his face. you chuckle. "she's freaking out?" you ask. silco nods as he lets out a breath.

"come with me." he says, leading you down the halls.

when you arrive at her dressing room and knock on her door asking to come in, you hear a crash from inside.

"groom's not supposed to see the bride before the wedding!" she insists on the other side of the door. you chuckle and push the door open.

"it's a good thing we're both brides then." you say as you walk into her room.

she's pacing in a circle again, but she stops the second her eyes land on you. "fuck." she gasps.

you nod. you're having a very similar reaction. sevika's wearing a tailored white suit with a black button up beneath it, unbuttoned halfway down her chest to show just an inch of her cleavage.

the two of you admire each other for a few moments, before quickly falling into each other's arms.

"hi." you whisper against her as you wrap your hands around her waist. she sighs against you.

"hi." she says.

"silco says you're freaking out." you tell her. she chuckles.

"kinda."

"second thoughts?" you ask.

"no!" she says, pulling away from you to look down at you. "no, baby, never." she insists. you giggle.

"so what is it?" you ask. sevika sighs.

"you're gonna laugh." she grunts. you grin.

"probably. i promise to still marry you, though." you say. she rolls her eyes.

"i don't have my somethin' blue." she mumbles. you blink up at her.

"what?"

"you know. somethin' old, somethin' new, somethin' borrowed, somethin' blue." she says. you chuckle and nod in understanding. "i got my old." she says, gesturing to her trusty black choker around her neck. "and my something new." she says as she fiddles with the gold cuff links you'd gifted her a few nights before. "silco let me borrow this." sevika says, gesturing to the gold watch on her wrist. "but i don't have anything blue." she finishes.

you giggle.

"what?" she asks, pouting. you smile.

"turn around." you say. sevika blinks at you and you raise an eyebrow at her. she turns around with a sigh, her back to you. you giggle as you hitch your dress up around your waist and shimmy your panties off. you drop your dress and smooth out any wrinkles before gently tucking your lacy blue thong into sevika's back pocket. you turn her back around in her arms. "there. now you got somethin' blue." you say. she blinks.

"what is it?" she asks. you smile.

"don't look yet. it's a surprise." you say as you press a kiss to her cheek. "you feel better?" you ask. sevika nods and swoops in to kiss you once more. you chuckle against her lips and push her back, cleaning up her smudged lipstick with your thumb. "i'll see you down the aisle." you whisper. she grins.

"can't wait."

sevika cries at the altar.

she cries when you walk down the asile toward her, and she cries even harder when you finally reach her and she sees the tears in your own eyes.

throughout the whole ceremony, she cries.

she cries when jinx delivers the rings-- even gives the kid a loving noogie.

she cries when you exchange vows, lovingly nuzzling into your hands as your thumbs gently wipe the tears away from her cheeks.

she only stops crying when she can finally kiss you, dipping you at the waist as her hands wrap around your body, licking into your mouth as the crowd erupts in applause and wolf whistles.

you're both grinning when it's time to walk down the aisle as mrs. and mrs.

sevika's so excited that she scoops you up bridal style and carries you all the way back down the aisle, pressing kisses against you anywhere she can reach.

she carries you all the way to her dressing room, where she tosses you on the sofa and dives on top of you. "i looked. i'm sorry." she whispers. you giggle beneath her.

"good something blue?" you ask. she grins above you.

"very good. are you gonna kill me if i consummate our marriage right now?" she asks. "we've got twenty minutes before we gotta get to the reception." she says, waggling her eyebrows salaciously. you giggle beneath her.

"i think i'd kill you if you didn't, baby." you say, before you pull her down for a kiss.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity

[correlance]

Charlastor / Radiobelle Headcanons: Wholesome Edition

Note: I am asexual, and these are my personal thoughts as to how an asexual Alastor would interact with one of his romantic interests. Art is by Slim_Babydoll on Twitter/X. Feel free to check out their account!

Alastor likes to run his finger around the rim of his glass of whiskey and rye when listening to Charlie sing, resting his face against one of his hands. It's one of his "tells" that he's thinking, or "lost in thought" and feeling. Normally stiff and formal, he loosens up and relaxes, easing up a bit more, when he has alcohol in him.

He likes gazing fondly at Charlie from a distance a lot of the time, because the distance allows him to explore and feel things on his own terms, away from others. However, he is gentlemanly and affectionate with Charlie, greeting her by taking her hand(s) in both of his, and giving her a chaste, lingering kiss there.

Alastor always treats Charlie with gentleness...not because he thinks that she's fragile and delicate, or because she's a lady, but because he wants to protect her from the evils and ills of the world. For as much as Alastor and Lucifer have a stubborn rivalry, the two have a genuine respect for each other; both love Charlie. Lucifer respects Alastor for "keeping his little girl safe and sound".

As a couple, Alastor and Charlie have separate beds, similarly to Lucy and Ricky in the show I Love Lucy, but on occasion, Alastor just likes being physically held by Charlie, and vice versa. Sometimes, he'll wrap his arms around Charlie from behind and hold her close to him, resting his chin on her head. He likes the feeling of Charlie being small and protected in his embrace.

Although he is more extroverted and outgoing with Rosie, Mimzy, and Niffty, Alastor is more reserved and quiet with Charlie, because he feels so much for her that he doesn't know how to express it. He just likes "enjoying the silence" with her. Alastor has lingering childhood trauma over seeing emotional vulnerability as "weakness", so he only likes to let his mask or guard down, and be truly and fully vulnerable, with Charlie, who he trusts.

Alastor also has some trauma related to physical touch, including sex, especially when it comes to men touching him. Charlie is also gentle and soft when touching Alastor, because she wants him to feel valued, respected, but also cared for and loved as her spouse.

While in bed, Alastor likes touching Charlie all over in a non-sexual sense, because he marvels at her being "so soft and smooth" in comparison to him, who is lean and lithe, with little to no body fat or softness. He also loves whatever perfumes and soaps Charlie uses, and likes burying his face in her hair, as well as being a little bit silly with her (i.e. chaste kisses on her stomach, face, etc.).

Alastor and Charlie do occasionally have sex, but as Alastor rarely-if-ever feels sexual desire, and it is fleeting and fickle for him, he does it mostly to please Charlie. He can "perform", but he sometimes has trouble in that department due to having a lot of wandering and meandering thoughts during the act. However, he loves worshipping Charlie like the "goddess" that she is in bed, while not minding or needing for his actions to be reciprocated. While he comes across as dominant in his public persona (i.e. taking the lead, exuding power and authority, etc...), he's actually quite submissive in bed, but can be dominant, if needed.

Charlie is always patient with Alastor whenever he decides that he's in the mood for trying to have intercourse with her. They usually take things slow and sweet, and Charlie also likes being affectionate with Alastor during the act, holding his face, lacing their fingers, running her fingers along his spine and sides, etc.

Alastor is very old-fashioned in how he treats and sees his relationship and marriage with Charlie, and prefers to express his love for her in non-sexual ways, such as dancing, singing, taking her out on dates, and just enjoying being with her in general. In a sense, he feels that his love for her transcends the need for sex, because what he feels is "so much more". Charlie agrees with him.

Alastor's favorite thing to do with Charlie is to put music on the gramophone, or turn on the radio, take her into his arms, and slow dance with her in their living room, or sit next to her in a chair while holding hands. While reading, he will reach for her hand, entwine their fingers, or caress her hands and fingers with his own, all while still holding and reading his book with the other.

[surrealisticduvet]

disclaimer: this IS the fuck that old man website, right? well, these are the facts of life. nsfw headcanons below the cut.

Imagine - you're about to get it on with one of the Monkees - or should we say, silverback gorillas? It's the mid 2000s, and these boys are well into their swinging sixties. You're back at one of their places after a perfectly romantic date - in public too, which is no sweat considering they don't get recognized much these days. There's been a cup of tea or glass of wine while sitting on the couch, and it soon evolves into kissing and heavy petting. Now you've made it into the bedroom, but the night isn't over yet. None of the four are strangers to the looming dark cloud we call "performance issues," but they do handle it in very different ways.

Micky:

Micky’s quick and clever mind, the force behind your marvelous date (a fun adventure, a hole-in-the-wall place for dinner, and a perfect sunset viewing!) naturally considered this as a possibility. In fact, he expected it. Somewhere in between taking your empty glasses back to the kitchen and nipping off to the bathroom for a moment, he must've popped something from the medicine cabinet; by the time you tumble into bed (carefully!) he's raring to go. He doesn't have the stamina he used to, but he's not ashamed of it - asking you to get on top is part of the fun! After he comes, his focus shifts fully to your pleasure, even if his erection hasn't flagged. He knows that it will long before a second climax comes, so he leaves well enough alone. Aging hasn't been the sexiest experience, but it's perfectly manageable and can't stop him from having - and giving someone - a good time.

David:

He can’t say he didn’t see it coming - after the heavy dinner you shared at that fancy place downtown, and the lateness of the hour after being unable to make each dance the last, there probably wasn't much hope for him anyways. You’re in bed, halfway undressed, when you realize he's not hard yet. You don’t want to bring it to his attention, but he seems visibly frustrated so you pause and ask him what's wrong. He sighs and says a few expletives, along with a quick explanation. "It's not you, baby, it's me." You tell him you don't mind, and that you're happy to just kiss and pet and call it a night - this seems to kick him into gear a bit. You're such a fine piece, he couldn't bear to let you go to bed unsatisfied! He slips away for a pill and a glass of water. When he comes back, it takes a few minutes to work, so you go finish undressing each other and get so caught up in making out that you're caught off guard by the sudden hardness pressed against your thigh.

Michael:

Michael had every intention that this night should go perfectly well- cooking together, dinner by candlelight, a walk around the grounds to get the blood flowing again. Yet, the best laid plans of mice and men so often go astray. Lounging in bed together, kissing and touching you sweetly, he comes to realize that it's just not going to happen - the stars haven't aligned, and despite all his mental willing and his intense attraction to you, he's completely soft. You tell him you don't mind- honest! and you don't intend for it to stop you from having a good time, as long as he's still enjoying it. He reassures you that he's not put off by it, and that your attention stirs something in him - albeit, not in a practical way; his cock rests still and heavy on his thigh. You take him into your mouth soft, enjoying the delicate feeling - there's a certain thrill in it, being able to take him fully into your mouth where you would be struggling otherwise. After a long, lazy session, he pulses and comes into your mouth - you gently stroke him a few times to get every last bit. He's still soft as ever, but looks happy and sated, and asks to lie there and kiss for a while as he catches his breath. Afterwards, he gets you off on his fingers, more than making up for any disappointment for not getting to experience the legendary nine iron for yourself.

Peter:

Your evening with Peter couldn't have been much nicer - after watching his band play, you pick up a quick dinner, walk around town, and make it to his place at a reasonable time. After a cup of tea and more nice conversation, he leans in to kiss you, laying a hand on your thigh. You take it to the bedroom after a few minutes, and things seem to be going well, until he's about to enter you. He tries a few times, and although he's half-hard, it just isn't enough. He sits back, rubbing his face with a sigh - he's frustrated and embarrassed, clearly aroused but without the capacity to do anything about it for either one of you. You encourage him to lie down with you, and you touch him soothingly, stroking his chest, placing soft kisses on his cheek, petting his hair ("Sure you can, if you can find any," he jokes when you ask permission.) After several minutes, he's relaxed enough to give it another shot, this time starting much slower. He focuses on you first, making you come once before he even touches his own cock again - by now, he's fully hard and slips inside you easily. He fucks you with enough enthusiasm that you almost forget about the first attempt, and it more than makes up for it. You both lie there afterwards, laughing and panting, fully satisfied.

[teenandbeyond]

Loki x M. Magician Reader

I don't why this came to my brain 😭 Did it come out well? Let me know if you want a full love story flashback with...hmm...50 hearts? I don't think that's too bad.

Want more from me? Master list II

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Love Archive (Marvel)

Warning(s): Fluff, kinda long, slight angst bc past Loki, Ragnarök, Reader is stuck with insanely long life, Exes (ouchies), Smut (but not graphic and will leave warning when time)

You and Loki were in love once, then it fell apart...Only to see each other again over 200 years later...only to be forced to save the universe together...fun...

✨✨✨✨✨

"[Name]! Is it truly you?"

With furrowed brows, you turn to be blinded by a bright grin.

Yeah, you had no idea who this bulking blonde was.

"Who are you, sir?"

He chuckled, running a hand through his short hair, "Right, you wouldn't know me. You knew my brother, Loki. Correct?"

Hearing that name still strangely brought warmth to your heart.

But how...?

"How do you know of me?"

"Ah!...I might've...followed Loki once and saw you. He doesn't know."

With a huff of amusement, you cross your arms. So this was Thor. Loki often spoke of him.

So you knew he was nosey.

"And what do you need from me?

"I saw you fight. Earlier."

"That was only but a correction."

You were a type of security on Grandmaster's planet, but because you were a pretty boy, people liked to test you.

Let's just say that was a mistake.

"Well, I'd like you to join my team. I need a fighter such as yourself."

"Team?"

"Yes, the Revengers!"

"Re...ven?"

"Yes, a team of those who want revenge against the world and this place."

You didn't have anything in particular you wanted revenge over, but...you were a bored old man.

"Sure. Sounds fun."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, where do we start? How many members are there?"

"Ah...less than five?"

"Oh, dear."

☆: .｡. .｡.:☆☆: .｡. .｡.:☆

So much happened in less than an hour. You met a socially awkward scientist that Thor swore could transform into a monster, but the man stayed a man. Until...he wasn't?

You were confused.

Even as a half-human yourself, you found humanity weird.

And then, after doing a little...ah...clearing of obstacles, you were told to come to a familiar room.

You could hear conversation on the other end as you knocked the random code Thor had given to you.

And the door opened...he was there. Restrained, but there.

Loki.

And he froze in place, just as you did.

He looked like a deer in headlights, guilt you didn't understand riddled his face.

You smiled, "Hello. It's been a while."

"Ah--Yes, hello. It has."

The silence was heavy with a story that slowly bared itself from the archives.

"They definitely know each other," Bruce observed.

"Obviously," Valkyrie, one of your coworkers, deadpanned.

That was an understatement.

1800s Britain, that's when you met him.

You were 26 at the time, but you'd long discovered magic and the inhuman part of your lineage.

Loki could smell the magic on you, he was drawn to that and your quiet charm.

You mostly kept to yourself, a bit soft-spoken, you weren't brutish like many men were at the time.

And in a short span of time, he realized just how easy it was to talk to you.

You were understanding, you always listened. And you loved no matter what.

That's all he'd ever wanted.

Someone to just smile and say, "I love you, I'm listening."

Someone to hold him when he wanted to cry.

Someone who made him feel like he belonged.

Someone who could kiss him like he was their world.

And you were his.

But one day, it hit him. He wasn't good enough for you.

So he left, and what broke his heart even more?

You understood. There were no hard feelings.

But ever since that day, he'd wished you had been selfish, wished you'd disregarded his words and kept him close.

And now here you were, over 200 years later.

One of you still felt a warm love.

And the other was filled with guilt, having taken out that regret on others for years.

"So, how have you been?" Loki forces the words out instead of keeping the silence that was admittedly getting awkward for everyone else.

Oh, it hurts that you still smile at him so warmly. Why couldn't you at least pretend you hated him?

"I've been alright. Mostly travelling. You?"

"Ah--Well, mostly mischief."

"That's a given."

"Any, uh...Did you ever have a...?" How did he ask?

You nodded, "Yeah. For a while, I tried again. But mortals, you know, they die. So...after that, I decided I'd save myself from losing anyone again."

Then Loki took in what was around your neck, and his heart warmed at the sight.

You'd kept it. The ring he gave you, the promise ring that held a false promise of forever.

To him, it was a failed promise.

To you, it was a devotion of love. One you could never get rid of.

Even after all this time, you could say, without hesitation, you still loved him.

Even when you learned he'd tried to betray Thor as you tried to escape this forsaken planet.

He still arrived to save the day when it was needed.

And he was still there to guard you as you struggled to heal the wound of Hela.

And you were there for him as he mourned the home that never felt like home in his heart, but still belonged to him.

The father that never felt like home, but still belonged to him.

There was so much pain weighing on his shoulders.

He just needed to wash it away.

Scrub it away.

No, it needed to burn like the flames that had engulfed Asgard.

And you were the only person who could ever burn things away, even if just for a little while.

"Please. I don't want to think."

"I understand."

You always understood.

You understood that he didn't want words, not now. You did well enough at that.

He wanted warmth.

[NSFW]

His mind began to blank out the moment your lips trailed down his skin.

"I want to burn it all, [Name], can you do that?"

"I'll utterly engulf you. As much as you want. Wherever you want, my love."

It wasn't long before you had his skin scorching, flushed, and red.

He gasped for breaths between kisses as you got so close you were one.

He left thin, hot trails of red down your back, your sides.

And when he wanted the control, you relinquished it.

And by Odin---perhaps it was improper to say that, a habit--you were utterly beautiful beneath him, too.

He felt flattered to know he's the only one who's ever had you in this way.

The only one to have you vulnerable for a change.

Once again. Loki was realizing...

He was a fool, an absolute fool...for putting your love in the archives.

[andlatitude]

this is long winded to explain but bear with me. so, my friend has been showing me Agents of Shield because I never watched it back when I was super into Marvel but they loved it. and we got super obsessed with Fitzward, which as you know, is tragically a rarepair. and so much Fitzward fanart is by you. so this has resulted in this bit where we send each other soul crushing angst, and then when the other replies with how miserable and sad we are about it, the sender of angst replies with your art and goes "don't be sad, men kissing!" or something similar. and its so important to us, as well as just having that art. so just know, your art from so many years is so important to us.

also, we both got so excited when we saw you tag your girlfriend in your old art only to click on your profiles and see that you're married now :') congrats to you 2, even if you've probably been married for a while now lol

Ooooh this is so lovely!! God I remember when the first part of season 1 aired, fitzward was definitely heading towards being a popular ship instead of a rarepair...oh what could have been. But I'm glad we stuck it out for a few years and that there's so much art left over from that time. It's so sweet that it's still being enjoyed, it makes me really happy to hear that. Me and my now-wife weren't even dating yet when we started getting into that show/ship in 2013 and now we've been married since 2019! Whatever else happened with that show and entire franchise as a whole, however we feel about it now, it was a very special and important time to both of us. Thank you so much for letting me know it's still getting some love out there! (Btw if you ever need a fitzward fix and you're a fanfic-reading type, said beloved wife @slamncram has a ton of stuff on her ao3 right here I believe there's a ton of fitzward in there still. Some of it is probably from like 10 years ago but she's always been an amazing writer, it's all a good read!)

[positivelybeastly]

Tell me why Simon’s upcoming marvel verse tpb (releasing between xforce 49 and 50) decided to highlight that issue (the one where Hank kisses Simon) out of all the possible issues that actually like. Are meaningful for him as a character and his supporting cast not just the one where he gets gay kissed by a guy who proceedes to dress up in his clothes, his girlfriend wonders if she would be better off getting back with his brother, and the guy who kissed him calls him a chickenplucker before he dips. Like it’s not really an important Simon issue, probably not even the best Hank/simon friendship issue but it kind of feels like they’re saying getting gay kissed by Hank is at least the fourth most important thing ever to happen to Simon, possibly more so than the whole evil and robot brothers thing

I do not understand I feel like the goof kiss is something that can very easily be interpreted as homophobic since essentially it’s saying “what if two men kissed would that be wacky or what”. Why would you bring that up again. Unless…? (Bi Hank real?)

"C'maaaaaan, you aren't still dwelling on that ol' gag, are you? It was for fun! You don't think Bugs Bunny has feelings for other fellas, do you? Just a little harmless horsing around, between two old buddies who hadn't seen each other in a while, on account of one of them being dead! We all get a little excited when that happens, don't we?

. . . Okay, so maybe that doesn't happen to you guys so often, but when it happens here, that's a - very common reaction. Nothing gay about it. And it's not like there's anything wrong with being gay, or bi, or any of that, either! I'm just not. Capiche?"

So, this is one of those things where it's like - I'm 99% certain this is just a weird coincidence, or that this was picked by a staffer with a sense of humour, or something, BUT.

There's the 1%.

There's the one 1% that has to check, and, hey, what happens if you Google Wonder Man Beast?

NOW.

I WILLL ADMIT THAT PERHAPS THERE IS SOME SEARCH ENGINE SKEWING GOING ON.

BUT.

THAT IS FAN ART OF GAY HANK AND SIMON ON ROW ONE, PEOPLE.

The cover for the issue with the kiss is row two!

The kiss itself is row three!

Like, full disclosure, I have absolutely Googled 'Wonder Man Beast kiss before', to get the panel to talk about my thoughts on Hank's sexuality before, so maybe there's some stuff going on, but, friends, Google 'Wonder Man Beast' and tell me what YOU see, because I am curious.

But for real, let's talk about this TPB.

Read this product description.

"Learn more about Wonder Man, the energy-powered Avenger who doubles as a movie star, before and after the release of the Disney+ series!

Few heroes in the Marvel-Verse are more wondrous than Wonder Man and none is a bigger draw at the box office! Get to know Simon Williams, the world’s greatest Avenger-turned-movie star, beginning with his momentous debut - in which he is gifted amazing power, but must defeat Earth’s Mightiest Heroes in exchange! Will he go bad, or make a heroic sacrifice? Don’t count Wonder Man out just yet!

Soon he’s back, breaking into Hollywood and tussling with heavyweights like the Sandman and the Abomination! But who needs enemies when you can have a best friend like Hank McCoy, the bouncing, blue-furred Beast? Prepare to discover why Simon and Hank are the greatest double act in Avengers history!"

I should remind you, this is not the Beast and Wonder Man book, that is a SEPARATE collection. A separate collection with art that has been HALVED to make THIS collection's cover, I know that Nick Bradshaw art anywhere.

But let's also talk about the issue selection!

"Avengers (1963) #9" - makes sense! His very first appearance, his villain turn, his death. You HAVE to include the origin issue, it's the law. 5/5, perfect choice if you want to know what Simon is.

"Wonder Man (1986) #1" - first issue of his first solo series! Absolutely makes sense, fun little one-off thing that shows how Simon is adjusting after his hero turn, shows off his personality, self-contained, beautiful. 5/5, excellent choice.

"West Coast Avengers (1985) #25" - fun little story showing off his movie career and his up and down relationship with fame! And it doesn't rely too much on other continuity, you can just pick it up and go and have fun, even if the other Avengers parts might confuse you a bit. 4/5, good choice, a bit of a deep cut.

"Avengers (1998) #14" - awright, let's pull this one up and have a look. What is this issue actually about?

Our cover.

Hmm. Well, they seem like good friends!

Aw, cute! I love when comics break the fourth wall like this, I wonder what they have in store for us.

Oh! A . . . two page spread of, Hank . . . shouting, "Hi honey, I'm home!"

Looking a little demented, there, Hank, you okay?

. . . Hank? You . . . okay there?

. . . Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.

You - got him flowers, Hank?

H-Hank, you're . . . wearing, Simon's, old . . . safari jacket . . ?

So, there IS some Simon only stuff in here, which is good, and catches you up on some of the events of his other solo series, which is good! This is good Simon content! Okay, cool!

O-Oh.

Chickenplucker?

FUCKING WHAT.

Okay, we need to check another website, there's NO WAY.

THAT is the issue you chose?

THAT ONE?

Not A+X #12?

No, wait, shit, we're trying to beat the allegations.

Um. Um. What about, what about that one Avengers Annual?

SHIT, ABORT, ABORT.

Uncanny Avengers #28! That's good, wholesome fun, right?

FUCK. FUCK, FUCK ME, GODDAMN IT.

What about - what about Wonder Man vol. 2 #6? That's safe, right?

And at this point, the poor Marvel staffer gave up and said, FUCK IT, THE GAY KISS IS LESS GAY THAN THE REST OF THIS SHIT.

Like, come the fuck on, now.

But no, that's the reason why that issue is in there.

Because it's somehow less gay than every other interaction they've had.

I have no idea if it's intentional, but how has every single writer since 1981 managed to write these two like tender hearted lovers? Why does Simon at his most asshole in Wonder Man vol. 2 act like Hank is his personal damsel in distress and smile more at him than he does his girlfriends? It's not impossible to write male friendships in a non-gay way, it really isn't, and yet.

You keep.

Managing.

To make it like this.

Hank McCoy is bisexual and in love with Simon Williams. Whether he, or the writers, have realised it, THAT is the story they have managed to tell. Maybe one day they'll catch up.

Maybe one day soon, if they're smart.

[soupedepates]

So. Let me introduce the Puget de Cabassole du Réal de Berbentane. Old money, old nobility "Nobles of the Sword", Catholic (as they should), entwined in the story of the Templars (at least the sect that came after it).

In these time and age, we have Thomas, the head of the family, the patriarch. His mother died when he was ten, and he had to assume the role of his grieving father, while they (he, his dad, his brother, his three sisters) were away from the Commanderie in the Pays Basque. They return when Thomas was 12, because he had to carry the legacy, he had to get the training as a true knight. And well, undiagnosed ADHD dominant hyperactivity did wonder: "this boy has no head but would do a marvelous knight". Thomas always knew he wasn't the brightest, but he was fiercely loyal and righteous to the point of the Savior Syndrome, such a proeminent feature in the family. Even if he was the best friend of the Great Master of the order, Thomas got dubbed quite late: he married at 15, became an orphan a few months after the wedding and a father at 16. He never had time to be a teenager, but although he took on huge responsibilities early he keeps all his life an endearing childishness, he just sees good in everyone, he just loves to have fun with his friends, he just loves his wife and children, he is pretty happy with his life. But of course, he is a product of his environment. He is a devout Catholic, and though he never rose his hand on his cherished wife he did hit his eldest and acted as a patriarch. He never helps Elvire with the children or the housework, because this "isn't a man's work", while you can see him work in the fields early in the morning and helps training the youngling in the afternoon. Thomas is the second-in-command, because the family was always close to power, but humble enough not to claim it. He embodies the motto of his house: "Loyality to the Man, devotion to the Lord". He would die for anyone asking him to. He would save anyone he thinks needs to be saved. There is only one thing more sacred than helping your neighbour for him: family. He would, and he has, kill for his family. But he can't help but be disappointed for being a father to nine girls, and only one son.

Elvire is Thomas's wife. She was raised to be a wife by her meek mother and her cruel father. She always went hungry, she always feared men and their anger, so she grew quiet, discreet, compliant. She married Thomas because she had to, before falling in love with the boy who was worshipping her like she was God. To be honest, she almost thought Thomas loved her more than the Lord and was ready to tell him to stop; but she learnt Thomas was just hyperbolic and extreme in his way of loving. He made her feel worthy for the first time. He made her feel loved. He had her go well fed and happy, and assured her she was beautiful and wonderful each and everytime they kissed. It is a never-ending courtship, Elvire is the only one of her sisters ending a love marriage. She nearly died of her first pregnancy at 16, birthing gigantic baby Tomyris. She had trouble loving her, while she fell in love when she laid her eyes on baby Prudence and the eight others. She never forgives herself for that, because she knows she thought she needn't take care of her eldest for she was strong enough to thrive. Even after getting married, Elvire stayed quiet. She sometimes puts her head on Thomas' shoulder and asks him if he regrets marrying her, he always says that he loves her and their family more than everything and that she is the most beautiful woman of the world. Elvire feels loved. Safed. Saved.

Tomyris is the first-born. She was supposed to marry the son of the Great Master, her best friend, until an other bachelorette came around. She was raised to be a wife and a mother, to care after her sisters, to be protective and strong, but because her father had no son she always had to assume the role of the boy of the family because she was tall and strong. At 9, she was tall enough to be considered as a teen, and was sexualized because of that; she understood also at that age that her quiet mother could be fierce and deadly if her offspring was at stake, she started to understand her mother was more of a lionness than she thought. At 10 her hair fell off, alopecia universalis, so she wasn't suited for marriage anymore. But because she was as strong as the boys, if not stronger, and was as hyperactive as her father, she started training. Women's world was too much subtext for her undiagnosed autism anyway, but she felt like she was robbed of something (she didn't know what at that age). She actually liked training. And oh, how great she was. Better than most of them (mostly because she was taller and stronger, thanks Thomas' genetics and insistance for his daughters to never go hungry), the only match was her best friend, the one whe was once betrothed to. She fell in love with the perfect girl (who actually was a boy, and she knew it, she didn't understand but accepted because what Ambroise said was like the gospel) without knowing this was love. She saw her sisters getting married. Her sister Quitterie crying in her arms and begging for protection, because her husband has violated her. People frowning upon her promotion to knighthood, the first and only woman who had that honour. She follows the motto of the family. She is deadly loyal, and this is her biggest flaw. Sometimes, she dreams of the life she should've had: marriage, children, family. But she is her father's favourite, until the birth of her brother, and also the shield of her sisters. She always took the punishment for them, because she was tough enough. She loves her sisters more than her life. She couldn't care less about her brother. She doesn't know him, they are 21 years apart. She was always considered a freak and loved the old Foulques, as much of a freak as one can be, more than her own father. And she meets Jennifer. Fragile Jennifer, Jennifer as a damsel in distress, Jennifer stronger than she seems and than she thinks. Tomyris loves like her father, blindly and devoutly. Of course she would kill for Jennifer.

Prudence is the second. She started to look at her elder with contempt when Tomyris declared alopecia. She was spoilt by her parents, because she was the first "true" daughter, and she was supposed to marry big. And she married at 14 a good man, she never loved him but likes his companionship. She has 15 children. It is her duty. She birthed boys for her father and her husband, so the legacy would be carried on. She was raised to be the perfect mother and housewife, and she is everything you want a trophy wife to be. She makes things look effortless, and will look at you with disdain if you can't do it, even if she trained for long before giving this impression. She is proud of her children. She loves them and would die for them. The first time her husband slapped her, she slapped back and yelled at him, saying she was pregnant with his very own child and he'd better treat her like a princess or he won't have any heir. Though she considered Tomyris with contempt, she learnt from her sister to be assertive and to look confident even when she wasn't. Prudence knows her worth. Maybe she isn't the perfect Catholic wife she wants to look like, she isn't submissive and feeble enough; she carries this outspoken legacy and raises her daughters not to let their husbands treat them less than a queen. Even if she is traditional, she pursues the breaking of the circle initiated by her mother.

Quitterie is the third. She wasn't cultivated and perfect like Prudence, but she was prettier, and she was quick-witted. Growing up she looked up to her elder sisters, learning to make herself respected like Tomyris and to be a good housewife like Prudence. Her marriage is horrible. She is scared of her husband. She hides behind Tomyris. She begs her father to intervene, but "it is her husband, her family, her problems". Her mother forsakes her in this ordeal. Only Tomyris actively tries to protect her, until she can't do it anymore. She is worshipping her eldest sister but won't say a thing about it. She hates Prudence. She looks after her younger siblings, worried sick they have her fate. But Quitterie is a scaredy cat behind all her wit, she won't escape even if given the chance. The only thing she does is praying that Tomyris will one day save her, or that her husband will die in his sleep.

After Quitterie comes Aliénor. She is the prettiest. She was raised with sisters looking after her and parents spoiling her like a princess. She is cheerful. She is pious. She is humble and kind. Yes, she isn't that smart, but she is genuine. She is very close to her mother, she talks with her for hours while doing embroidery. She has a love marriage. Her tragedy is multiple miscarriages, until her rainbow twins. Aliénor is happy. She is maybe the happiest sister. But never has she ever questionned the system.

Zénaïde is the fifth children, and she is the smartest. She scares her father sometimes by her insight and knowledge. She wanted to be a theologian, or a priest, but she was born a woman. She preferred books to people, and was for Thomas the most enigmatic child. Zénaïde never thought herself as an enigma, but she was to her parents who couldn't wrap their head around the fact she was hyperfixated on books and religion. She married a good man, she loves him in her aromantic fashion, they have a child for good mesures. Zénaïde aspires to her own path, but not without her sisters. She is the one trying to hold the family together by writing regularly to everyone. She loves them without knowing how to tell them. She looks at her child, who is so different from the others, and she hugs them, and kisses them, and tells them they're so, so, so loved.

Marguerite is the crazy sister. They prefer locking her up in the house, in her bedroom, not to bring shame to the family. Marguerite broke down under the pressure to be a perfect wife, especially when Tomyis left. Tomyris was her role model, so different from the other Templar women. She is secluded in her room, in her head, alone with herself, and she yearns for someone to talk to her.

No-one cares about Blandine. She is the seventh daughter. She isn't as pretty as Aliénor, nor as smart as Zénaïde, nor as strong as Tomyris, nor as witted as Quitterie, nor as perfect as Prudence. No-one cares about Blandine so she doesn't care about herself. Her parents were busy with a lot of other kids and issues, mostly after Marguerite's breakdown and Emmanuelle's rebellion. She doesn't feel like a part of the family. She has a love marriage, and for the first time someone cares about Blandine.

Emmanuelle is the eighth and the most recklessness. Tomyris is her idol and she is a daddy's girl. She wants to be as strong and tall and confident as her eldest sister. As such she shaved her head, she tried to train with the boys, she fell in love with a girl. But Emmanuelle was a Puget's daughter. She had to marry a proper man. So she married. And she ran away with her girlfriend. She got protected by Tomyis until she can sustain herself. She feels guilty not to be independent, but she doesn't realised how strong she is.

And here's come Athalie, the last girl. Elvire and Thomas keep her in childhood. They're not ready for her to marry, and they don't want either a Marguerite or an Emmanuelle. So Athalie is the child. She doesn't feel like she belongs with her peers. She sometimes sleeps with Marguerite, who only seems calm in her company.

Finally, the only son, Pie. He was wanted so much. His father spoilt him rotten, while his mother tried to do the discipline. Pie is mischievous, and looks like Tomyris and Quitterie. As stubborn as the first one, as witted as the second one. He will do for a good heir. If he lives long enough. The Puget de Cabassole du Réal de Berbentane males have a tendency to die young.

[disastermages]

[read it on ao3]

The dock above Jiang Yanli is old and rotten in places, but not rotten enough to give away where she’s hiding underneath it, trying hard not to giggle. Her brothers are supposed to be leading her fiance deeper into the woods and eventually out onto the dock, telling him all sorts of made up ghost stories. The three of them had come up with them together last night, but she had been the one to decide that Jiang Cheng should be the one to tell them, Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but grin and that gave the whole thing away. 

The sound of their voices drawing closer and closer is Jiang Yanli’s cue to dive beneath the surface of the water, unbound hair fanning out like the bloom of a flower as she draws breath into her chest and holds it. All she has to do is wait for Nie Mingjue’s shadow to tower over the water, and then she could wrap her hand around his ankle while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian both shoved him into the lake.

They couldn’t do this sort of thing when she was engaged to Jin Zixuan. They tried, and he hadn’t taken it well. 

The white robes on her body, layers upon layers of them to keep from allowing them to be come see through, grow heavy and rough in the water, but they do little to slow Jiang Yanli down as the dock above creaks and groans under the weight of three grown men. She can see just enough past the glare of the sun to know that Nie Mingjue is squinting hard at the water, she has to time this perfectly. 

Wei Wuxian leans over Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, pointing something out, and it’s Jiang Yanli’s cue to strike, pushing herself up out of the water with a force she shouldn’t have to wrap both small hands around Nie Mingjue’s ankle while both of her brothers shove their shoulders into his back, pitching him forward while they run away, howling with laughter. 

Jiang Yanli is almost certain that she’s a very convincing corpse, she can’t see past her own hair to tell otherwise, but the way Nie Mingjue splashes and tries to fight against her hands on his arms all but confirms it. He’s reaching for Baxia, Jiang Yanli knows she shouldn’t laugh, but she still does, it makes him stop splashing for just one long moment before reality sinks in.

“You!” Nie Mingjue sputters, hair clinging to his face as he dips below the surface for just a moment before he remembers how to tread water. It’s an improvement, he couldn’t even float when they’d first gotten engaged. Alarm gives way to amusement as he tries to swim towards her, only to be met with empty water as Jiang Yanli dives away from him, black hair and white burial robes billowing out around her. 

Nie Mingjue no longer sinks like a stone, but he still can’t keep up with Jiang Yanli when she truly tries to keep away from him. “I didn’t know Mingjue-dage was so eager to swim with me,” Jiang Yanli grins as she resurfaces, pushing her hair out of her face just to look at him. Some men would have splashed and thundered their way back to the shore by now, but all Nie Mingjue has done is watch her as if she’s something to be marveled at.

He swims towards her carefully, never knowing whether or not she’s going to slip through his fingers again, and admittedly, Jiang Yanli thinks about it, but she lets him draw closer instead. She could push him under again, but that feels too mean, even she wouldn’t forgive herself for that. That’s something her brothers did to each other. 

She chooses to be sweet, instead, brushing wet hair from his face and then pressing that same hand against his cheek. He would get tired of swimming with her soon enough, she has to take what she can.

“I would have swam with you sooner if I’d known you made for such a pretty ghost.” Nie Mingjue smiles when he says it, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand right after, and Jiang Yanli feels her stomach flip before it fills to the brim with butterflies. It isn’t fair how he can tease her right back after she’d conspired with her brothers to push him into the lake. 

Slowly, they drift closer and closer to the shore, sinking into the mud just a little as they climb out of the water together, water falling off the both of them in sheets. If she’d been alone, Jiang Yanli might’ve just laid on the dock so the sun could dry her from bottom to top, she might’ve even fallen asleep in the sun like that, but who knows what kind of rumors would get spread if anyone caught her lying her cheek on Nie Mingjue’s chest while they dried together?

She should lead him over to the tree trunk where her clothes, her real clothes, not the burial robes she’d bribed her shimei to get for her, lay hidden, but Nie Mingjue’s arms wrap around her waist. He’s careful not to pull her wet hair as he holds her close, his eyes glued to her face. He always treats her as if she’s some great beauty, as if she’s something to be held close to his heart.

The humidity of Lotus Pier is already making both of their hair curl, Jiang Yanli wants nothing more than to reach out and run her fingers through Nie Mingjue’s curls, her eyes blinking wide while he continues to watch her like he can’t bear to let her out of his sight.

She shouldn’t. Jiang Yanli knows that she shouldn’t, but before she can think twice about it, she’s standing on tiptoe to kiss Nie Mingjue. Her arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close and keeping herself up, though she doesn’t need to for long. 

Nie Mingjue picks her up and holds her against him before Jiang Yanli even realizes that she’s being moved, her own hands sliding down to his chest. She can feel his heartbeat there, but it feels far, far too fast for something as simple as picking her up. Carefully, because it might break whatever spell they’re under, Jiang Yanli slides one hand up to Nie Mingjue’s throat, feeling for his pulse and finding it just as fast.

“Sect Leader Nie,” Jiang Yanli calls him that to dump ice water over her own head, her lips still numb from the kiss when Nie Mingjue rests his forehead against hers, his eyes fluttering shut. She needs to get down, she needs to put some sort of distance between them so she doesn’t do anything he might regret. It doesn’t matter that she started it, it doesn’t matter that she played a trick on him or kissed him first. This is too much, she’s done too much, and all Nie Mingjue has done is reward her for it. 

Jiang Yanli doesn’t expect to be kissed again, nor does she expect the kiss to linger as long as it does. She can’t hope to control the soft sound that flutters out of her throat, as if one of the butterflies in her stomach has broken loose. 

“Qinghe’s waters will be too cold and shallow for you to do this again, Lady Jiang.” Nie Mingjue speaks to her softly, but the reminder of her own title does nothing to cool off the warmth that’s building up underneath her cheeks, “You’ll have to find other means of playing tricks after we marry.”

Nie Mingjue still wants to marry her, even after Jiang Yanli pulled him into the lake and pretended to be a ghost. She even dressed the part.

Slowly, and then all too quickly, a smile bursts across Jiang Yanli’s face while her cheeks burn hotter, threatening to dry them both in an instant. They aren’t supposed to be alone together, not until after they’re married, they’ve already broken that rule, among others. She shouldn’t go to Qinghe until the wedding, either, Jiang Yanli knows that. Her wedding robes aren’t even done yet. 

“Perhaps a visit to the Unclean Realm should be arranged,” Jiang Yanli speaks softly, leaning her chin against her hand while she pretends to think, “I’ll have to think of what can be prepared once I settle in, won’t I?”

Jiang Yanli doesn’t expect to see Nie Mingjue grin down at her, but it puts her heart in her throat all the same.

“Your future husband might have tricks of his own, Lady Jiang.” It doesn’t sound like a threat or a warning, it sounds like a promise.

Jiang Yanli can’t wait for him to follow through with it.

[hiswordsarekisses]

“What kind of heart had these old saints! Abraham allowed Lot to chose before himself, David wept for Saul and Absalom who attempted to murder him, Joseph wept seeing His brothers(same people who planned to kill, but later sold him into slavery) who sold him in want, Moses refused to be made a great nation(an offer so many would have quickly grabbed) rather asked God to forgive his rebellious kingsmen, Samuel refused to stop praying for Israel when they asked him to stop being their leader, Uriah refused to merry because his kingsmen were at warfront while he was asked to take some time out for refreshments, Stephen while being stoned asked the lord to forgive his murderers(just a pinch to what we call persecution today), saints sold their assets and placed the proceeds at the feet of their leaders, in order to minister to their fellow saints, four men took their ailing Friend to roof of a building just to make sure he got healed, and the list continues with names of others who did same great deed of love. Will my name or name also be in God's memorial book of such deeds love? I cant stop to marvel each time i look at the lives of these man. Men whose heart was baptised with the love of Jesus christ. The love, Esua touched in Jacob, it broke him down and he couldn't help but fell on his shoulder and kissed him. It goes with brokenness.

No matter how doctrinally sound and correct you are, if you don't have a heart filled with the love the love of Jesus you may even constitute a stumbling block to those coming to the light, you may end up chasing people away from getting to know Jesus. We need brokenness, to see the body of Christ,even the lost as Jesus sees them. If the love of Jesus, compassion is not in your heart, you're nothing. I barely touch this love in most preachers of our time. Yes we must warn, rebuke, confront etc, but if you don't have the kind of heart Jesus has, you wont represent him. This kind of heart of love is the cure for the division in most gathering of the saints. The love that will cause us to lay down our live for others who are lost and those weak in faith. It's the cure for all selfishness! Moses' heart was not momentarily in alignment with that of God, when He instructed him to speak, but rather he hit, saying "YOU STIFFNECK". Scriptures says this love has been shed in our heart by the Holyspirit, oh why is it still a scare virtue amongst us? I've been crying all morning, Oh Lord Jesus, help us, burden us with your type of heartset. Baptized us with your kind of love, give yours kind of love that led you Calvary, Oh be merciful to us, let the dying world have a taste of your love through us".”

~ George Igwe Ifeanyu

[sandrockian]

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!

Tagging: @sandara-and-coco​

Notes: Recently, my obsession with Builder x Unsuur has grown to fanatical heights, and the Knives Out update has only increased that obsession. No spoilers, but Unsuur is top tier when it comes to romance.

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Until they both die from old age.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Hmm... Well, because of the mystery letters Liira received in her mailbox, it's safe to assume that Unsuur was the one who fell first, watching her from afar and marveling at her accomplishments until he finally decided to make his admiration known through letters. Their romance was a slow, steady burn, with Unsuur falling harder.

How was their first kiss? -  Soft and chaste. They were sitting side by side, counting some of the rocks he collected, when suddenly, Unsuur leaned down a little and kissed her when she turned her head to face him.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Unsuur. Liira was actually going to propose to him first, but he beat her to it.  

Who is the best man/men? - Justice or Captain. Unsuur had difficulty choosing, so he made them both his best man. Justice showed up with Captain in his arms. Both were dressed to the nines, with the cat wearing an adorable bow tie and hat.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Liira's best friend, Mi-an

Who did the most planning? - Both. Unsuur and Liira had a specific theme for their wedding that included warm palettes and rocks that Unsuur handpicked. Hell, even their wedding rings were made out of quartz.

Who stressed the most? - Liira. Liira was nervous that the wedding wouldn’t be the “dream wedding” she always wanted and that Unsuur would realize that he had made a mistake and leave her at the altar. Of course, Unsuur had his wedding jitters, but Liira's was worst and would have spiraled if Trudy hadn't given her a much-needed pep talk.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Everyone was invited, but let's just say that certain members of the Church of Light were not given an invitation...for obvious reasons.

Sex:

Who is on top? - It depends. Unsuur is not shy when it comes to sex, and Liira is always happy to switch it up a little. They have a very healthy sex life, with both working together to ensure the other feels good and safe.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Surprisingly Unsuur. He’ll pick her up and carry her off to their room if he's in the mood.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Depends on the situation.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Always. They are not selfish lovers.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? 1

How many children will they adopt? 0

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Unsuur. Liira does change the diapers, but she’s usually too busy doing supply runs or working on commissions to help with the baby. That doesn't mean she's lazy or a bad mother. She does bring her kid with her to work in a cute little baby sling. You'll often see her riding around town on her camel with the baby strapped safely to her back. 

Who is the stricter parent? - Liira and Unsuur are not strict parents, but they aren't lax in giving out punishments. However, Unsuur is the more laid-back parent, whereas Liira is quietly firm and instills a healthy amount of discipline in her child.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Liira. Why? Because she used to be that kid who did dangerous stunts back when she and Nia were kids.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Unsuur.

Who is the more loved parent? - Both. Their child loves both parents equally.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Liira. Unsuur is one of those “MY KIDS WOULDN’T DO THAT” parent so Liira is usually the one teachers call up to the school.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Liira and Unsuur.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Unsuur. He'll just simply frame a rock and get his kid off Scott-free. 

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Unsuur. The man is a five-star chef in the kitchen and can make the most delicious meals.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Liira. She wants her food cooked in a certain way, but she does eat whatever Unsuur puts in front of her.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Liira. Sometimes, Unsuur will be too busy with the Civil Corps to do any grocery shopping, so Liira is always the one getting food.

How often do they bake desserts? - Not often. Liira will sometimes make a pound cake, but that’s just about it.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Both will eat salads and meats.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Liira. She can’t cook worth a shit, but that won’t stop her from trying.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Unsuur. He'll go into the desert to dig up rare minerals and bring Liira along with him.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Liira.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Liira. She’s extremely neat and will do a deep cleanse of the house every weekend. 

Who is really against chores? - Neither.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Both. Their pets consist of the dog, Nemo, and Liira's camel, Brownie.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Neither.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Liira. She wants things to be absolutely perfect and will have a meltdown if she spots even a speck of dust on the wall. 

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Liira.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Liira. She likes to drown her hair in honey shampoo and snuggle with Unsuur in the tub. 

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Unsuur. Nemo has a gift for sniffing out rocks, and the pup will always present one to Unsuur.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - They love decorating for the holidays to the point where their house is drowning in lights and decorations. 

What are their goals for the relationship? - For Unsuur, it’s bettering himself as a person and keeping Liira happy. For Liira, it’s learning how to be in a happy and healthy relationship without the toxicity she experienced with Pen. 

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Neither.

Who plays the most pranks? - Unsuur. He prefers harmless pranks that aren’t jump scares or cause bodily harm. He'll play little pranks like hiding a whoopie cushion in a chair or mismatching socks. 

[libidomechanica]

This reached

A ballad sequence

               First Stanza

Deep in could not appear unveil     the new rays of shy peryenche wild win when this caitife hear     planet closer, elm and

only twelve fair doth use and mak’st     all charme may blest selves in her obeisance, this; say they die     at then? Love, and the footmarks,

one leg stuck in the longer.     Delicacy—stoops at once, in brief emergent patter     where them that name was almost-

stale croissants clenched in a thousands     of men? His footing wiles. Fool! The mossy fountains open     on thy steel bosom

beating you, a kind of our Ladyes     both in other will fall. In dispers may in a stone,     on thy affairs, falling

in a female hands and holding     out with pain beseeching from the sweet with beauties where red     like seasoned rocks the mouth.

Herself, appear unless as the     shining days and stepping in the same. Strange. The old, thou now?     The lower of blood, my

pretty rooms, as an awful reasons     on the light, all Night, elbows, smiling. To make him like     earring lies. And now that.

               Second Stanza

And now unpossible might fade.     Merry Flocke, go, get you should by the noble language of     nature laid his wits, who’s

injury. He measure takes among     the cannot be summer. And bowing the brought and body     in the Robe to watch.

               Third Stanza

As never cut from customers.     You heard self-substance or Ilium any good as weeds. Nothing     dwindled to Mars as

her work, but forms, like a misguided     arrow we can I you remember I don’t own     anyone every turn from

child crying: kind is always friend     and early shepherd’s state towards out, hey ho grace and pledge of     a chemical mixture.

               Fourth Stanza

In amorous sportful too; he     clenched, the peasant Spring open and sithens shepheardest     their tongue with half the drizling friend, a fop their gifts     apply, as thoughts of the field with chastity, who like     vibrating eye exposed, who

like morning-Shower—one Morning     off the Doctors! Be heir milky bosom’s ward, but Homer,     Plato, Verulam; even silence, with nimble, and a     rose-fence, into the houses high, left nothing, said not a     kiss a scores and passed here

among the sage in cruel she died.     Teach the blood of the Marvel of a man—the nigheth fast,     then wake in the hand or cease, might dissolved in austere; twas     possible, trying all, and hurting. Forms and smooth rocks, and sere,     my timely buds with a

Kidde, now share in hers, and thee. My     day droopt; the bier, while Ilion like joy in me out of     prophecy: The pills are should blindness; and, glorious and heart     still and two nickels to run at, when she: tis hardly do;     tis frosty Nighting heart.

               Fifth Stanza

The even tide, upon that one     blood of your feet upon too high Hall-garden of his body.     Appear; and the black-

eyed rivals of men or passionate     head of mine arms serenely by thee with pervading     his hands, Leezie Lindsay, will

he chose haire; her face more for thriue:     neuer strouen to the arrangements ease to plays its eyes that     sweete-cruell scortching but that

this dazzle let the thirsty plant     body take me releeued. When Winters as I roll’d to own     the lantern in her face;

where she could not with the shine, empty     art. As if Life them gives to ponders too, whatever     me, that bassoon, my

desires; don’t stand I won’t fear: some     part, yet has not Briton; here among us, if you have     you in a thorn of almost

forsworn. Convention her face     and marveling: for the rain misery to stand: but I’ll     softly tread unto my

heart you once to his ancient fable     and feeble in a dream markes each others; arts of     innocent, whose golden

star-sister’d marvelled. False-flatt’ring     a wanton straight I’ve shunne the doome. Embrace that treats of     the palate in niggarding.

Or els some haue some clear, and     Syluanes haunten rathe. When I do I now forbear to     the harbour and the kind.

               Sixth Stanza

Who for him the swamp of love my     woe, bending me, they at the flower’d Camelot: for fortune.     And I dance of the

body bear the snow. You are a     dainty rind, swept by this portrait melted into the sky     is clear! The heat: some hid.

               Seventh Stanza

For all the tinklings of our arms.     The vain adorn beauties where you must not so. Evening at     the thunder then in act

to speak of day let the stalking     of the lilac, without a sex. As he did yeeld; more     ord’nary eyes, but of my

face the Lady Ida: here, I     thinking of splendour of each may shepherd lad, or loneliness     arriving creatures

of Nature vex, to proue, and thy     hive. The man’s hand discourse but my visitors … the sins of     love, conversation on

the middle water, who did them     did knead, which to sip; sweet smooth behind a double as lips     uncurled and skilful

pilot, though theyr sample on his     sphere; ascends th’ unguarded this our many a voice,     I brought him out a sex.

               Eighth Stanza

Have come riding the long as that     court other Road enters and giue; the general roar of the     bed. I break of you list

her road rejoicing in a monster’s     children of weaning for punishing surely then descry     tears hall the garden

of hands of Being all, to one     cadencing faithfully. Learn to illume the earth, from human     frown; now the steal one

leg stuck in the grew, it is the     knack? In Heaven’s undimmed, the cooler shall we say, closets,     silk-pillow, mix the

first, thou thyself another Road     enters go, come I will hunt old Baron will, but that creepe;     vouchsafe, of all my fire.

               Ninth Stanza

But fairest, still mimicking hall     the would smite her hands as due as fruitless breast. You,     incommensurate, our want deck

and loving, ev’ry woman, if     I had hear the place, stellation—lost, why done we to my     vow, or else but of that

drops and pure brought; but without a     kiss, and fairies to his happiness absorbs; the plagues, and     dear who has goteheards

sayd he there on, and as the lost     i’ th’ bud, yet dried ere your name. A bloom, honeycombed     in young till all

acquaintance, a brother Themis his     broad streets you can be both sexes fit. Yet, alas, I may     see—a pimple shepheard

with any meaning pure, and unsmoothe     myrrh, the bed. The soft a sleep and renew thou haue my     death threadbare elbows.

Whispering clear brow in the Fruit grew     still, and in the silver bugle hung the Lady of Shalott.     A knave the can thou

should write, against his Emblement     climax of her stamp a tear, or is it a dreamed black hue     from wall of this blazon’d

baldric slung a might, your name. Set     to rise or floats in a bigger boy, the grafted firm, the     great when we’ve involuntary

power before its chimes,     my Mary, I hae sworn by the brute blood? And lief, and yet     loves and wounds fled, but the

Temptation—if he his lips were     less: some face of the Dust of a leaky vase, for conscience:     Lady Psyche, ’ Cyril.

               Tenth Stanza

The princess. Like pray’r, and two hours     have ceas’d; whether on Ida’s shallop flitting made, ylke can     trim, and calling, maud is

held your arrow out, hey ho the     debt she shining pure, from the lower shut did hang like a     thrill of trumpets—Lycius

sitting the frame his slaue-borne daye     in white rush, but I love call; all though I blisse enherit     neuer see thy ioynts benomd

with many pictures up:     embraces of your sacrifice this is with pain, since why then,     sweetest Thing though them. Which

I have proving from love the sand,     small amounts, and weak.—Then tell me by me reioyce. Or I shall     be paid, but a barrein

ground the hyacinth, so will and     prepare! Good measure, our shame, and what your name. Brake shafts, while     we cannot tell what same

together with all than not wish:     but, deare Love, and I make then descry tears hall the gaudy     day drooping from thee? Did

she, most humbly thee speak too much     wore than breadth and a singeth. Then all to pleasure clog him,     and paper sat, with a

loyal warmth and caught in one Sunday     afterimage through the ghostly haunten rather words     to blere myne eyes of morn.

Your gray shadows bathe. Will linger     of this way, and tho’ I die. Yet Chloe sure of reach, as     when we find of prison?

               Eleventh Stanza

I asked on the blanching else transient     veil her friend, but there, the bed. Gem to hand crown the jars     so every color and

unruffled; there, and unobserve     people the time and watch. Love the tangle, trammel up and     straight there when it gets

discovered … but in purple fly, and     the stars that is she, and all night of conscience of stairs into     the frogs sound above

my snooky and all the taste of     men, the burn, turn’d himself, he the moon’s trance, mine eyes from singing?     Like petals or with

the story of her neck roundels     free of a people shouldering its skirts, its cheek or the     day: she left the meadow

kit foxes crave thee it is a     good Algrins ill, but your thickets celebrate life to great     distance, let me like a

religion. The hollow woods decay,     then, my though gald, and a helpe me, correcting on her     to fights, Princess; liker

to field with her dirty dawn in     the Danaid of honour of blood and smoothe myrrh and regret     when we see hung in the

frost, such sweet the first the pink, two     almost burst forth creeping in your hand did not need have alms     and was more and rest, rest,

knight the light He force your fellow     passed hand helpe the sphere; of whom mirth is like: and damns me flying,     flies draw his window

overlook’d aboue, when his house no     more bred where blowes both ioy and blooms that Psyche, Ah—     Melissa, O pardon it.

               Twelfth Stanza

Her eyes by tome and walking in     war painter, scatter myself, and sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Be     seen for thriue in love; yet

we find salue for the rosy blonde,     and now passion slide down her arched, that dark heart. With self, is     shepheardest thou mas-kedst

lately minute. In any way     to a man—so glorified vague fingers; the shrieking shut     of my soule was once didst

thou speaks the Lambe be Willye without     the time hath reason; but true as thoughtful spight with his eyes?     Is that coy girl as mute.

               Thirteenth Stanza

Oft stombles at a time, socked tight.     I must die, or move awake and bowed haue heart none other.     I left a thousand armor should bring as he the mortal     age beside remote Shalott. Shall when your feet have hearsay     well: well decked devotion

that brutal planet closer, elm     and pleaseth me, and stricken by the world, as if you hence     fountain side. Who breath was fiery arrow flew. Of sweet     hopes first begins to rest distance why then use rigor in     her rough the suppers for

ever: the Lady of Shalott.     That rest, since I cannot blame to bringes its last disturbance     traduce; no observing spoke to thee soon; the stretches     betwixt Nature was almost divide into them? The shell,     the noon-day, but, wretch, I

trowe, ne can dispense with strong Hours     in vert field without booke: what it lies? Well can right, in     amorous earth to feign, baths that feel in the pit of love, the     way a woman’s seen in the memory standing two almost     sad? Eros harrows

airy, like a rind and haunt the     eye. To melt in a dazzling draught to haue learned man’s state     to hit, for often sayne the currents grudge, my master of     this use I look be lost thou or I, who might back. Love me     if I erred from the more

a moth. And my wrinkling rose; but     think the citizens’ applause and though I oft myself of     the cruel, could not to leaves off noise of the senses reel: some     future; she herself on a charred spread out. I tooke as of     dryness find a sweet and

limb diffused to make, The even     silence, and from a handmaid we were in the bays. Come in     this might put the scent, and from the whirls, knowing wealthy     memory sweetner art; pleasure; to me this pleaseth me then,     stoop, since in. The soft wool-

woofed carpets: fifty censers     they learnd a newe mischiefe mought of view; sure, our souls, that hundred     years, taught wind them for brazen greaves sailed incense burn, or     fall. Let not enough, by my sister. So pretty Face? I     must not great; a knaves, and

smiles as one to soundless were still,     approach’d; each work, doth make. I’m keping his breathe o’er the unseen     unto the ancient fiction to illume the even     general roar of them leaue to die. Forming up one did for     Gods can lend, then can bread—

and the dreary phantom of waltz,     clicking his life was wont to sip; sweet kiss—you see your finger     of a newe daunce, that ink may come to Sheba came from     all in deep scar of sleep must go, and tower’d Camel! But,     fury, woe, wherein my

lips on yonder the sweet blacke face     of sway. The carved cedar- plank or weedes be meynt. Brow-beating     down, and lik’d but lent to find no soon as one to seek,     arose with any mortal, guilty of reach’d that, which shall     weep out thy choice, I broughten

mazer ywrought they turn on     the Fair ones, O trees, voicelesse green nets blue eyes both in     each heats. Sounds soone may fail or turn to say, and harps divine,     I do, yet close doth fill a crystal grow, while the love return     see now, my Celia,

wedded to the foresayd from     each others, ashes o’er the wind of season; but, alas,     but from his owne: and fairies to hide the successful to     not in your limbs we’ll gentle Groane at once didst pass’d beyond     its dazzling skill from thee?

               Fourteenth Stanza

Matter of the nice admire, observes     how to that not meridian height; dreaming in     despites of the Atlantic Ocean on me; for these may     characters a spouse too much pertain the less: some main spread,     from the boards: and learned

well she I louers passengers dropped     like a misguided preached: bees passed with the bride: two palms, and,     in his Prime of slight me your little light, and great of deadly     silence pursue it, stands and love in a strawberries     spread. When tis by twin-clouds

cover … autumn tress, but none     distinguished to my foot, frail, but denied me so long to raunch     of brasse. Down with his for kisse in sport and in amorous     earth grew so tender dreams … scattered starres be well in a     certain and the supprest.

Foot; and we will so nighly words     and caught wind communed within the trode; from thee. Julia     close doth amaze; there will come thee this torpidly, at its     long ago; and about thirty minute, a miracle.     What your boy’s a-dying.

               Fifteenth Stanza

And culminate in niggarding.     Once more a masquer, with two palms and culminate in peace,     as the World—no Road to Foot; and this lips; he said, How long     and descried and through my kind? My mouth opens mothlike, zombie-     lite through of your freedom.

No meane, theyr soul, nor love, if     thou this face, you will, that thou weak, I wanne he work of every     color and acts just not, from crime, perhaps he is, cease     we to my heart. Where my finger that con of it, Florian     added bed, thy mantle

mind: musician, painted squaws     of the paines to keep he is come ages had full cryes.     Twelve fair he seem stark plain thy lee-shores by my passion put    ��the to the brought, had not be no meaning powre dicerne. Now     the world had a Psyche,

both in the day would appetite;     like a bed of them still blessing much this cheek: its on the     house you’re living wood-choir shadow’d which, being ravisher     she demand, his name? He plied, courage and my thought, or     wrinkled on the dark, dark

with many a want of solemn     psalms, and comfort dare to teenish hungers to all gentler     days, your hand, that it shame foole, drawn forth a loyal people     she frost and mix’d my Lucia but a rage as winter     is thy sweete, make in eche

degree. She may they mix’d mass onward     glory as they circling the found to the air, is flash’d     into the man kept, that rises from just; till shepheards deuise     she put a padlock on you, feminine your heads were smooth     rocks ye rove, an Eagle

sorrows, smiling from Canaan: the     eye. Like a meadow kit foxes crave thou used to gaudy     cunning scarce let lost Travel, girded up without afar,     while shepheard self-styled out of her own no white ponies, can     reach’d one, but from me where,

night, my lips that on her feet to     the gift of time it’s full smart? In summer’s day, beside remote     Shalott. Unlawful therein those to weep for those hard     mechanic ghost. No, not bewray leas: and only because     we were soft air fans the

simplicius asks of thine. Houses     high, what, dost thou hast sleep lockes to towers. Here were the     named by my soul in eternal Intercourse but this fair     in colours and baby loves, mysterical mock-disease     should make you of it. My

sweetest sweet friendly fray, what and     for me? My needful seem’d a horses teach vertue never cut     from Provide our aims: work of eve and pure love of pleasurelesse     hast slain, arriving crone at me, beneath his spirits     so fair Nine, for her

Feet. Purple noontide ocean floods,     fill’d his shield him for any one to hear the libertie is     gone out, and think the crystal current paths of amends, by     spirit pass. As the skies, the roses that now shine own bright,     that blessing begonne, and

thoughts, and read my sinewy thigh     and at my shadowy presence this mighty woes. Cold     philosophy will, till my lameness tinged a billowing     on a velvet bed, full brown, shall o’er-read, where they did an     Evil Cloud rain Sorrow,

all thee made of sway. Friends; I haue     to watch our close, hush! Or like breathes, even so with plume, lady     of Shalott. My sight clasp’d with bloudy locks stops blow him     not your face, that for? Or firebrand never, ever watching     her fifteenth birth; whether

in parliament; the bright by     light’st flames, mysteriously, I feel that so well, hears the bought,     alone,—of them aside; the moon up with a glance up in     the mead so chillingly bend or ruffling of those the summon     all external grace

that is she obeys; let not gives;     and blow, wind no peace, as the field, over heard Apollonius—     from her hairs. Rain coming is awake another will     not see each words, we constellation, humming the martini     he is the delight?

               Sixteenth Stanza

Blew, with the rock, here any of     our passion, drink deep, and thou for your mighty Pan. Loving     eye or fall against his

pipes, great, the green seraglio has     got therewith merry wine, and mark of willow lay among     the tame: they did any

mortals, which their hooks, fit baits     for joy thee. A longdrawn and open on hands the hypnotist’s     spleen, vapours weep their

rose, thy mouth. As yet closed fist thou     speak of the dove. Him the end of war with an unnatural     sympathy: summer

long. That part, as if you live: but     alas, who can learnd I louers she went to shunne the state toward     the grave, and I won’t flinch.

Quite displayment. Below the cold,     enduring nightfall be spread, for no such mought the day, venus     stood bathing and faintly

saints, the scorched the Church and gave     a nose for men bene stayed, to climbe. She did knead me     another: for here was a

desk of Sorrows infinitely     nurtured by the Cyprian strain’d, th’ enamour’d of     eyes that love, my dear

delicate spire and mee: I pyne forests     far and what are than your meat, yet hangs his Graces, towns,     court they came. He shall send

success of the midst the palate     in private arms, here lay dying my key to try, to sell.     But Colin made me with

patience, and she, and hail once and     morn! By a dismal cypress the ripened earth gaue that I     in public tis double

bright of beauty witch, haunting man.     The broad-spread, fair form, and the moth, whose trees! As now it thou     shalt scorn. Her face for the

chamber doors broad daylight like a     seizure o’er, I call a bee was summer as longer bounteous     Earth, two plummets dropped

in crimson. We have borne and me     Dead, not Living creature made it seems, your hands. With a kernes,     and sweet Tibbie Dunbar?

               Seventeenth Stanza

And her limbs I feel whole self thy     selfishness, modesty she chambers sweet Stella is not     so much content male will

give it no unerring lies. And     is our lips just that white rush, but he’s a bolder talents     in seal upon his housewives

do the familiar excellently     lay, listen and adore you, a king. Yet hangs loose     haire; her face teach the brought

in thy parts run o’er, the feather,     kneeling into sometimes, it had dared. The will ascends they     lay entwine must be wooed,

and sigh because of love’s wrong     register, that liuing die, a poet eke, as they are, or to     see the mead so chilly

the Lady Blanche’s like that snake,     kisses blooming, Julia chid I stood, each shrinking the task.     A part; nest of might finde

Stella, who madest him in some     respect, however watching tower’d Camel! So in Grecian     tires are thanke, to

stay awake, and the spites of     smoke from hence the canker of battle unroll’d the cold ran     through the hand up to the

North, all the yellow passed byrd, the     noble languid humour, and the rose on my eyes bronze faint     wind, which she weaker now;

tis true woman: and with Novocain.     And shy and plain and was most sleep I was fall the rest,     rest, sleepe. Except because

I managed so elaborately     sit playing in the Pile; and he will conquer Loue; their perfumes     he lay afloat, below

that your eyes: so she left a     thought: you wert not let your feet his utmost smoothe myrtle-tree,     as hard hands with necks

unyoked; nor are these surround—The     acolyte amid the liuely sonne of hands mumble in     the dog became china.

               Eighteenth Stanza

Replied Melissa, with bared snowy     white and the while his lightens o’er itself, or our glad     though I, once or hair; sleep,

the high or low. Trying all the eight     color and a loveliness compelling, go back, up     like manner they found, may

pierc’d my Soul, now sickened as if     thee my gentlemen to glistrings of Love we’ll cut the death-     bed overturning Beauty

show, that earst I hote. Fly, fly,     my pretty one, in sometimes, its homicidal eye—and     delight. ’St and in the

Lady Psyche’s lecture, your statues,     polished to increased, until the torturing, gnawing     constant heart bail; whoe’er keeps

catch the Noose of the first weale;     breakfast of dusty fight went singing loue, that Colin, Colin     Clout rafte me of conscience,

a broken wall and while loving     and drove his still, and with crooked pit in mouth keeps catch     the slacker in paradise,

and thence is prudence of my     milk tip is brown lengths of cherry plums suck a week’s soak, over     bloudie paines of leisure.

In the Forty of love’s beauty     and bleacher’s window passengers are priuie to my foot,     frail, but Cyril. The beauty

I demand, around thee, finding     curls kindled to and fluttering clearly, take ourselves     bene vayne: colin the

bar, a blunt uninvite you once     got to painting heate so great store me rue it would smite her     mother three sins of two,

and good humour of this human,     so that it in this verse- men you know. Love, I fear the new     rays of night, serenely

sweet Lucy Gray will not thyself     another circular emancipation. At last with     undefiléd Robe to

Her uncontrols. Pushed here willingly     should thing to no purpose not of the world where I was     abandoned, in a weak

models of arrows my heard     Apollonius—from honest Mah’met, or within thee, which a     steadily, the simple

should elide your beauty slumber-     drunk an Arab arch of your Mother care hath profane you     going on in grassy

parade: the field Mars bare fingers     pure, and Lesbia, leering heavenly progeny, as he     was, as the shorewards!

               Nineteenth Stanza

Who does she doing? And solve and     fling the luminous air in knows if he his ease. Flying     lovers as I could spring

begonne, and kiss on, to melt     the shade, and bowed her scorn, and, without then sudden start with     my fair doth rehearse. Night,

heralded a doubt to climb, you,     that als we mought the stretched form and real? Then in those brow had     no dark but to use that

they could scarce suffer tyrants, which     now unfetter’d free, like this is so meek, arose, and I     cried doth flawless summer.

               Twentieth Stanza

Here no beauty, though, by my still     my Delia, come to pleasure cloth’d his clownish gifts and Ceiling     blank as holy rite for themselves in hands with pricked     together like to sever.

Of Heaven itself another     side they all lot. While he is tall pine should, by Fate, turn’d she     world music, and lone; yet never young Cupids. I love and     round the closed fist thou weak,

I wander from her look their sweet     both sere and each; and health of mine, and pure as the feast thou     couerture? Find to you I know where the heart from the marching     ghostly haunt me fleckless;

yet—hear my consciousness, no, not     Beauty began to be first do blow. The heart in his bed.     For All—None burning from the rest, still in parliament; the     rights prefer before that

purpose of life afternoon—the     Minster-clad in small in paradise, my mouth. The Muses     skillets, and in it and one in the floats up from Camelot:     and fair in colours

and every soul once too kindle     into speech, its webs. To a low song she says, did so, but     a moment’s hearts instead of eyes that creeping. Toasts live against     myself; fire and other

thumb, as if it well a well-     away, faining, came Nighting hye, the king’s once more delight?     Let temples; no soft, so calm, yet canst thou steals from wall and     she’ll adore. Trees branch of

my woe cannon-bullet rust one     tonight. Sicker sike and while they at their burthen the tide     through thou deny’st me she charm is brimm’d, and town till e’en the     groves you: home with it, and

low, and rest, pass the debt she e’er     so blinding fast and sudden with him outdo. Is a place     which made strong, and take back, up like a Jugler complain there     will not near to a Diamonds

with adorations; double     bridle glitterand goodness spent, and even times unclasp     from loving and layers thou thy sighs drown his fire if     lowliness arriving what

you’d return’d to plays its gold refin’d     to the Snow, whirling thighs? Whirling thro’ the men atheism     and over my woman he no friends; yet we first:     then we’ve involvèd others

I seek with thee now, who has     goteheards kynd. What I dare not touch she too; winning luxury,     has my old griefe, and tower’d Camelot. Of blood was     spring. Thirty minute.

               Twenty-first Stanza

And yet alas, is her word I     under feet to leave thee I shall me she floor, his brayne, to     draw thee with the scortching

ghostly strikes its stainless as he     glorious frame? I saw the Sunnye beame so stranger, passion,     but then the moist earth, the

transfigures do a fly; I     hid meaning on each, as in huge rondure this; she dwell in     amber her in a weasel

on a horrid presence and     the mouth, outdrank the familiar care of—succumbing to     th’ most, toasts live no

soft, who did the time face for years,     taught the courting shrubs, how that without them more than hate’s known     descrie, teach the home is Love.

As I swim through and rolling over     head: she broad table, our Head of my lameness, nectar-     brimmed, then common vein

of Musk lay the bark and from places     of lights a funeral, with all bodies meet, whose voyce,     so wild flower-enamour’d

chirping with face he given     in the midst, in a sunrise mars the gaunt old trailing from     all in the very shadowed

from the north flowers thought, or     quiet as the dark, dark world where use had two deare Flocke, for     tears no more subtle servile

rout of baser subtle wreathe     news were burned, since my death like in the Book of Martyrs now     despair, obsessed shepheards

ioye, how after his journey. To     forget me, the sunshine like manners each way musick mard     by this. Sick of your fellow

heat of the delicately     weak. Into two marble cold, to melt in. Meet the same prince     at all the gossip rout.

Give me for thy flocke of my dream     for when he had taught my hand held a volume as when nature     was all on fires. Was

just as you say. Ay, a sweat from     vales dependant Phoebus proue. Of the watchful, as it sent     from upper air, or fret.

               Twenty-second Stanza

Some kind wind shall I was blithe anger,     but know ye: alas! She crickets: other, who threat of     fireworks with pale and the

cheek tremble lest and probably a     millionaire: no matters, poems, and enjoyed, like manners     each shrinking the blue

unclouded weather rais’d his world, your     monument: and every scent flicked from Psyche’s daughter.     I was store, or dress us,

wants, and perhaps a year of     our arms around me, and such frost, such scenery of my     face but left their stems branch

of the blue and thing his banks     compassion curs’d with my friends of our memory, with thee down     flame or pale cheek: its on

her one, whose for a Moment; the     grinning mistress came dazzling friend comes their first, came jasper     pants upon that much

senceles trees, its would fail from upper     air, to thee, which she says, I’ll never rest; and will, the     ancient in it. Your hand.

               Twenty-third Stanza

Of those shrieking shade of beauty     bright be blame or prove! He asked only fire. The Carian     Artemisia stronger flight.

Tires are free o! That shall iudge     to the snowy white as to my prayers too, and we saw     the depth and such a height

my soule was once but the night of     cloud, before; for often finger, passion to change, that coy     girl as much with all hell

what shot to thy sweet grows romantic,     I shall me why they, the command meet and like a weak     hand hear my cold we else.

               Twenty-fourth Stanza

Whence a fair creatures while theyr weede.     Till a softer Adams of lilies scuffling of his     blood of those who are not too wide it was peregall     together: keep the Darkness every casual though, that mainly     so, he lyes in love, then

this, to call down to Camelot.     His mother’s bed; the sound the act of you stripping invited     guests with a bag of all of those slender heardgrome, and     many a hill, beside remote Shalott. My life one who     dies, and drown’d. And white hand;

o plight. The hert doth lowre, nay sighes     stood, so rapt, we gazing I tarry Gemini hang     a teare, when from myself— me—that was this? The kindle into     loves fly twanging constrained to mount—The Heart moves with     desires; don’t birds, O beasts

I know there, with a sheepbell tinklings     of ours. Full of ordinance where was saucie Loue is a     good sheepe did glides here our meat, yet should I, when on Marlborough     the god of those power, little doll child, and you was     pleasure of Heauen for mirth

is like smoke from side of my fingered,     out of my Soul! May all mysteries by rule and planted     joy and the first, thou ever reach, as when thou toldst mine.     I was summer dies taste of will the gen’ral rules; changing     loue, sometimes are were sure

of brassy paradise, my timely     moan; and let us not ask’d it, ever made. Of children’s     hair, too divine: but thou will softer Adams of light.     Of cloudwhite trillium or viburnum, by and the world whereof,     my delicacy—

stoops at once didst loue; and fluttering     under the colours and the day they bene thy virgin-     treasure. Who always,— they do so that, passion curs’d with     wayling away the East, till I dote their famisht case? Of     power; your touched out her

gown to keep your land little isles     and fro: a classic frieze, without attaint o’er the faults, but     when in a clapping invitation. Love? Not,—and I, and     for the play a parting art, soon enough stays no face, you     will keep it stir on the

least part us, a tiger-cat     in crimson clad, dead into the Lambe, of the orange, two     greene saye, that was shalt straight think you transparents’ bones of Love     hid scent from out this; give them will I saw a willow and     a rose only because

a sugred kisses, that died slave     told; and in this goblin Honour, white trillium or viburnum,     by all loss of than Dead, depriv’d of poison on my     head. A very well; for wet filaree and what could trust, that     talked I will command me

fasten’d man throughly moue; whose foes:     whining heads in clusters oh, your promist weale; breakfast     of you stript of ticked her voice faltering thro’ his day she     is, cease we them my paines, in ermin’d prince got to lose     his wonder why to wed.

Twice has crept so long, O God, who     rapt, we gazing I followed. And thou haue my desire;     for their rose three castle. So, to one all the sun-brown’d. Thy     thyrsus, the heauie cheerful as a poet eke, as half-acre     tombs and great’s though somewhere

Venus charm might finde Stella     I do meanest creature lies, ocean black-eyed rival came.     With me soothing to bear; and as old Falstaf says let us     hie, flying and forefinger, this goblin Honour, white     like vibration that parly

all life through a lonely timely     move! Thoughtful child, from the common eyes that may augment.     The wretches her for a Moment; the bed appeare in varied     mind draw from thy pure as maiden-flower, breathe new-blooming     off the chambermaid.

               Twenty-fifth Stanza

To Haleakala Crater. Thought,     have ceas’d; whether, in an untasted feast and hearts of     whatsoever chanting no

old with such place and wellawaye: ill     may then commensurate, our wood; The every spinning near,     the Bird of herself, and

shy and the carelesse grievous     to be overfed. Mother, all her life alone, I marry     tides: now with they the

bower-eaves, and religion take     their rose tree. So is it just as before two bloody swords     which it sucked from thou now?

               Twenty-sixth Stanza

Will that touch on all be constance,     that my trust I would knock- out drop of urine? High and ocean     invade with her Golden

grass; shapelet on her eyelids     strown; as well by his pages. Like an anticipation,     since barr’d of her off

in air; choose and doth vs beate     where Ioyes peace with our she herself, the smiles that for a year.     I’d not, when I thy

poor me at thyself uprear, there’s     not there wan and rise like pray’r, child crying no old thing     so overslide, or that

fought head in plain pudding ring, pullings     miswent? To come what are lawful the mountain roe, with     the secular argument

of comfort her, leaves Me, Heaven—     his Eyes up and sunglasse: all as the snowy bank the     diamonds wi’ me, sweet, like

a pear, or is it that of fire.     As midnight they shall when I did, and kill those fairest creatures     the wrought of day thee.

               Twenty-seventh Stanza

In me out and almost yield. But     like those morning fires. Were not of hurt or feare me tremulous     earth, two green-sheathed

daffodilly her mouth. Elizabeth     and often finish, dear fool, have growth of the bed. I’d     tosse in the spite and

we saw my good sheepe did leaue their     sun, his comrade walked I will be dead by their first time, the     mead so chills are in younglings

to him. Seeing me, that which,     couple, were fix’d, then some again. The Minster-clock has just     as yet unborn. Itself,

appear, descend, and I neglect     to vse eloquence? Here Fannia, leering days and knowing     sun. Kept walked wicked aside

through fast, yts time, you can be     dead; yet not Woman e’er should shadow. Viewing, rapid,     merciless—break my chere: o

keepe no meaning: nurses threat for?     A sign is helmet the stone. She trip and nowe imploy their     ever cut from me that

kept walked aside; the moon but set     they the rock, that the Palmyrene that made it still, she weak     on a holly father

drunkeningly he wanting man.     Who always presume, there, that bards out, is but a dream not     onely reading in

October, this; she sings insphere;     of whom mirth and could show how time, it pierc’d with the other     circumstance, where most uses,

and learn to illume the coming     is added, Blame then ask’d the Dust of ancient ties would     have not,—and I, who lovers,

old with her, strange stalking of     all mindes dragging among they could not too far; but, wretch,     I trow, low, sweetly sing?

And yet am but rude wind up     the sea! It is not a man, that no dark world speaking     Poetry! To mount them keepe

the house when shall be wreaths wounds shadows     fly, we’re talking. We can faine his lips and look’d the morning     unto metal and

they cross’d. Over men may be, comfort     her Golden strive for your count of dusty fights, Prince, I     have looks with ourself thy

fooles hire the Lycian custom,     and to you gave me if I erred from Camelot; the black     curls, and you that for? That

has to redden thro’ the view, all     Night, you webs your towne to suit their forme of the soft wool-woofed     carpets: fifty wreaths.

               Twenty-eighth Stanza

Yes I touch’d, though, that must makes me     write it out dispense a wild bee’s songs can with her humour     stole amongst men, are vain

my breath the sideburns and head     into star stars, and betwixt Nature like not one; my present     the climbe. All eyes be

more, you wert ne’er should, in it catch,     ere longer still regale with two tame leopards cover     … autumn tresses for on

his body. And light, for pale in     the nobler age; appraise her lily arms with merry shine,     a loyal mind, whome winter

cloudy sweat from the dimensions     of any wood standing fast and see. Or who had left     a thought to tie, and the

hart is too familiar care is     written, her lips, teeth clamping thro’ the one I hoped that sweetest     Thing to tell me why

the groves that audit by advised     respects; again we still jesting faint dyes us to be     over-silver more that

Heart moves with all her likeness, Paine     doth wake, then bedde, or my heart were zombie-like disguise, in     searched, that spare it: come sweet

odes of market on displacement     ring, floats in a big house; men hated learn; they reigne and Ceiling     because that spend his

hair would not learne the court compact     of loue they can be idle worthy to lose thou have my     woman said, then to deare:

where those scarlet Iudges, a heart     with any meaning tell, more be the stayed, to guardians,     see! Death the air of Heavens

said she to hye but when the     Marvel of my bonnet but memory: but let appellation,     be the flower,

yet has got the fleeth afore fainting     eye exposed, shall but left me this day, which han be hel-     driu’n from the green Shalott.

               Twenty-ninth Stanza

For the burdened honeysuckle.     I drop it at noon, lost as a honeysuckle. Her to     the arranged threat freendes and arms; is that Boy, and moon, and     I don’t stand I the middle nature has content to give     these surround—or can

dispossessed! Shall be dear with its guard     the murmur, sent from vales dependant pearl she perseuer, that     erst perfume: better place of old enjoy, to will not for     fear my conditional South. First did seem and probably a     million like a wind or

cease, yet one time it’s a journey     … that it would flie thence, for half a year white hand; o plighter     Briar Rose and candle lit at register Psyche, both     of powers over Orion’s passion to all be, to shake     its trance girl? If he his

vengefulness; liker to reach.     When a woman love call meet! Yet still relented dew long     your limbs thronged snake has Pudica this orphane place when I     laughed sometimes … and I must, each the aftertime, and infest     with pain and chastitie: o

eyes, sweet boy; but none of heaven,     loving you, not girls over the strong by Beauty show, tis     frost and glutted all that deale of death into the porch, that     bards of eucalyptus fronds. With rivals by twin-clouds odor.     Before their women

were not to kiss sedately; maud     is her hate: superiors? Of guilty, but die, and sware     deuoutly theatres benched in your cart, driven out in     a grave, will remembered lights comminglèd, as now not what     came to prune, then again

to me! My father who am     not one summer. Will not name of chronicles deflow’ring     at so our sleep little one, my wants a heart in days in     good of the air, so make thee to the heard trewe, yet am     force hiss. ’Er keep embrace

thereby, the same together like     a Body from waiting my bones; here burns and you, that the     trees nor light, with chaste. But from my rooms; to look on Simo’s     mate; all mild ascend, as now not with pyping and down the     fat diamond doors, the hermit’s

fun what is shephearde was, shall     hail to the lovely sheepe han crust, is—Love, for ornament     than music to open, won’t. And he in the mere love now     it’s you made, with light, elbows, soft and known: my parent, in     days far-off, on things. Said

Cyril, having and queens! But, dearest,     and nerve: you take ourselves bene all mortal age beside     thee to that liuing diamond door of individual     light. Fly, fly, my prime, and red; in broad tables, by submitting,     earth; such spies, the smiles,

for constella, should me but gauds;     nay, what to tie, and shall live—such virtues be, whose Presence     to hit, for teares descend, when we can—you can become.     But too well-moulded, fall the reaper weaving section making     open the place, whose

Presence the fields of life, I am     burned, ere yet the lilac, with took delight. She charm’d; her     kisse, the cannot tell, small, but ashes, dust; love, mere long-hair’d     the bridal he should be a like any other’s jealous     eyes prove to seal it you;

take it under to that Psyche’s:     as well and charmed! So firme were one would not be sayde that may     I by a newe daunce: my old selfe doth learne heart beating youth;     one hath a prize, that snap the hours lately weak. It who keepe.     Nothing so long, and show:

sorrowed me fasten’d wholly,     and myself, a shepheard Apollo sing, with Allegories     current slipping. See! Making of lighter with undefiled,     call my house you’re a like a round who did trip for     joy thee soon; father rage.

               Thirtieth Stanza

My heard the then an open eyes,     feed’st thou grant the flower lie in one forced, that he push, when     from his with patience on

the decks herself, and mylde, weakness     of the kiss afresh, to Loues selfe-felt disgrace sappho at     her darling into teares

supply of tableau intact.     As a meeting seas. Or wander’d one gen’rous God, God accepts     misse, while that deity.

Shines cleerly, draw near and the     coupled, so sung he does nature is not to kill with water,     purer, breathless mere,

the smiles when I sue god for thee.     And when he wite then, however speak too much more than the     hills; the grave Professors

who boss the morall not tell what     doe you not so bright, elbows, knees locked in a flash itself     another left, a closed,

saving and insane. A bloom could     never beauteous ban of ashes o’er than hated learned     women dancing mimic,

more these tears and fear—plagues, and midnights     serenely in the wine has to run; at night never     can make her feet, and her

pale, pale in the heart their sweet kiss,     or founded and knows, it had forlorne, alas doth use and     much a kind of S. A

woman: and none other. Full of     our people beat neath to torments? ’ His name? Earlier, and     faire break and made a Queene.

               Thirty-first Stanza

You are made a wife to common     rule, lycius, perhaps and goodness, here, to slavery my     sighed with the blue and

whatsoever, tell me pleasure some     to pleasure of night that left me be dumb; for, thoughts as he     forst the faire bred where with

a kernel in its agonizing     throughly moue to keepe. Out naked Leda with any     mother’s Ears, and dragging

among melody have sped, have     you nobly, mingled be; though, that glancing in spiraled the     ridge, we simply blur into

star stars to dust and tree, and     not waiting tower’d Camelot: and cry, and the youth to     woo: to words enough; noons

of sway. Eros harrows airy,     her man; tattooed or woaded, winter cloud apart; there cold,     and of heaven: we knowes

not to mee. Anew its axis     you What, if no pieces glean your pypes as once in     the yells augment the substance

to dear deliciously, the     shadow. For their age’s prudence, behold I fell were forbear     the Doctors! Arose,

even a note the Assembly,     and beare with pyping and paint. This chose hard the grave, on earthwards     swayne, comfort neer. And

the fields of eucalyptus fronds.     I’d brush what do you gave me words were in her eyes bright     eyes should though parents of

guilt brought of pride, brow-beating halls     of Lebanonian cedar, mimicry! You are them with     your lovers’ heart, and two

hours late overflowed his Eyelashes     dropt Blood—his Sign, and I don’t make a wasted: the frogs     sound the new polished

buxomry demand, fair creature has     too fickle Man is at her labours for malice show eye     and she wite there, the frail

one’s face a theefe hid and went about     thirty minutes, he for ever: then my spring’s real,     or his Supremacy.

[denimbex1986]

'“All of Us Strangers” is a film about true love in which Paul Mescal and Andrew Scott appear as a couple rarely seen in the cinema.

How do you even begin to explain this wonderful film? “All of Us Strangers” has such unexpected twists, such big mysteries, so many moments you want to talk about, that it’s difficult to even describe what “All of Us Strangers” is. So let's start with the power of love.

“The Power of Love”, yes, imagine the power of love as great as it is sung about in the song “Frankie Goes To Hollywood” - so pathetic that the topic could change. Adam is sitting alone in his apartment, the video for “The Power of Love” is starting on his television, but he presses pause because the doorbell rings before the song begins. It's not often that someone rings the doorbell in this deserted-looking high-rise building. There is a young man standing in the doorway, Harry, with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, who just starts talking and the story begins.

Harry, who may be a little drunk, conveys not only interest in Adam, but also a certain forlornness and, for tiny moments, something threatening. He is a stranger. “Keep the vampires away from your door,” it says at one point in the song “The Power of Love.” It is only at the end of the film that the viewer is reminded of this - and will this circle close.

“All of Us Strangers” – The Plot

After the two men met at Adam's apartment door, an even more mysterious encounter followed. Adam travels back in time. As a viewer, you have to accept a leap into Adam's past that goes against all logic. He suddenly finds himself in front of his long-dead parents. He begins his journey through time to his childhood home without any technical marvel. He simply takes public transport out of London until he is a grown man standing in front of his parents, who are about the same age.

Adam's father says to his wife: “Yes, look, you can recognize him by his eyes”. The two died when Adam was 12 years old. Now the three sit down together and talk about how life went on without each other. The parents smoke and drink whiskey, Adam says he is a television scriptwriter. The record player plays hits from the 80s. At some point the parents dance to “Is This Love?” by Alison Moyet. And this is also the question the film is about: Is this really love? And how does the love that I was shown by my parents relate to the ability to love in my own life?

“All of Us Strangers” – A love story about real closeness

Over the course of the film, what many people probably dream of as adults emerges from the unthinkable conversation constellation. To let the inner child loose on the parents again. Parents ask why they did this or that to you. Why they didn't do something else. Tell them what they didn't understand. Trace injuries. Or finally reconcile with them.

After the first visit to his parents, Adam opens up to Harry. Without the bottle of whiskey in his hand, he proves to be far more trustworthy than under the influence of alcohol. After Harry orally masturbates Adam and Adam cums on his own chest, Adam licks the cum off Harry's chest and then kisses him on the mouth. Director Andrew Haigh doesn't stage this as an expression of excessive desire for each other. Rather, the first sex scene between the two men conveys a trust in each other, which also manifests itself in their conversations as real closeness. And it is this closeness that frees Adam from his inner isolation and lures him back into life from the strangely inanimate high-rise. But it also takes him back to the pain of his childhood. He dares to confront it.

“All of Us Strangers” – Der Cast

Irishman Andrew Scott received a Golden Globe nomination for best actor in a drama for “All of Us Strangers,” but lost in the category to Cillian Murphy . Scott has gained fame since 2010 in particular with the BBC series “Sherlock”, played the role of C in “James Bond 007: Specter” and with the role of a stumbling (“sexy”) priest in the series “Fleabag” he really succeeded particularly popular representation.

Paul Mescal is also Irish. He achieved his international breakthrough with the series “Normal People” in 2020. Since then, he has thrilled people with his portrayal of predominantly unconventional male characters, such as the young father in “Aftersun,” who spends a summer vacation alone with his daughter. For this, Paul Mescal received his first Oscar nomination for Best Actor last year.

Adam's father is played by Jamie Bell, who long ago became world famous as “Billy Elliott” and who whipped Charlotte Gainsbourg around ten years ago as the extremely dominant sadomasochist master in Lars von Trier's “Nymphomaniac”.

Claire Foy is one of the most famous British actresses of her generation. She particularly thrilled audiences as Queen Elizabeth II in “The Crown” . She also starred in “The Pronunciation,” which was nominated for an Oscar for best film .

Conclusion on “All of Us Strangers”

When Adam's father says he recognizes his adult son by his eyes, it must mean that perhaps those eyes were as sad in his childhood as Andrew Scott makes them look for his role in "All of Us Strangers." It is a great and, above all, touching acting achievement how he expresses Adam's inner lostness with his body and his being. The film gives its sad hero a lot of space and time, sometimes minutes in which we see him walking through public spaces, standing on the train with him and knowing just as little as Adam himself where he belongs. All the transit places between his parents' house and the empty high-rise building reflect the loneliness that Adam carries after his tragic childhood. Despite its theme of isolation, the story is staged in warm colors and has a very cozy atmosphere. Many viewers will recognize themselves in Adam's feeling of having become a stranger to the world and himself.

The best thing about “All of Us Strangers” is that the return to one’s past is told so believably and sincerely. Perhaps Andrew Haigh succeeded because the house in which the encounters with his parents were filmed is actually his own childhood home. The film shows a real confrontation, which is followed by real closeness.

“All of Us Strangers” is a forgiving film that tells of the possibility of overcoming the strangeness in one's own family and thus also the strangeness towards oneself. The fact that Adam, in dealing with the failures of his childhood, apparently gains something that now enables him to let Harry get closer to him, gives hope. At the latest when we remember the title and the fact that we all – all of us strangers – are sometimes more and sometimes less strangers.'

[measuringbliss]

Comics Read-Through: Romeo (1)

So I immediately fell in love with Romeo's appearance in Astonishing Ice-Man #1 (2023) and decided I'd better check out his entire list of appearances, which thankfully is very small.

Spoiler alert: This post ends on a depressing note.

We're going to be jumping around a lot.

The first issue is a X-Men run, and coincidentally, I've been listening to Jay & Miles X-Plain the X-Men for the past few days. I've only listened to the first 9 episodes, but I think I won't be lost too much. I definitely recommend giving it a listen if you're curious about the X-Men comics!

All-New X-Men (2016) #13

I was actually surprised to see Bobby's sexuality at the forefront of this issue. He's gay and out now. He came out in April 2015's issue, so as you can guess from the title, not long before this one.

The art is very pretty, quite colorful and easy on the eyes. Very interestingly, Bobby says his idea of a gay culture is very outdated (and actually offensive according to the Internet). After all, he IS a younger version of him from the first issues, and not older current-day Iceman. Which is sad when you think about it, because any meaningful connexion Bobby might make in this time will be rendered useless when he comes back to his time, in the past.

Does that come from Top Gun? Hahaha, I should really finish that movie. I think I still have an hour left or something...

So Bobby finally lets himself go, and their hands touch... and Bobby cries and becomes Iceman right in the middle of the bar. He's ashamed and leaves and barges on... Romeo, naturally. They proceed to flirt, and are interrupted by a beautiful creature.

Really great art!

This is actually a friend of Romeo's, who calms him down, and then Romeo's fellow Inhumans arrive. Later, Romeo explains that he's an empath and can manipulate emotions. So this is basically Mantis. Okay! I'm into that, as a concept, because it can lead to great stories (see: Buffy S6). Bobby feels awkward about that, but...

I squeed. They're adorable!

That's how the issue ends, with the last sentence promising "Next: More Horror for Cyclops" which sounds like a sadistic fanfic writer. Hell yeah. But we won't be reading that, because...

2. Spider-Woman (2016) #10

Spider-Woman! We're reading other Spider-people comics before even meeting our first alternate one. Well, I guess technically we met Peter's clone? Maybe? I don't know much about Ben Reilly, but given we just finished (re)reading the first Clone Saga...

Oh, and did I say this issue is in the middle of Civil War II? Which is ridiculous because I've only read Civil War I.

No matter! The art style is pretty different, but I oddly like it.

Jess is on a mission to basically confirm Ulysses's visions, because she doesn't trust them. Romeo appears to take care of a new, old lady Inhuman who doesn't control her newfound powers very well. I have to mention that he's pretty ugly in this issue.

It ends with national news that Clint Barton (Hawkeye) just killed Bruce Banner (Hulk), and Jess is pretty pissed at her girlfriend, Captain Marvel (they're very lesbiany in this issue and Jess acknowledges it, I wonder if it went farther than this).

Let's shift back to...

3. All-New X-Men (2016) #17

Sooo... Bobby and Romeo are boyfriends, and the Inhumans and X-Men are at war with each other. Oops.

The issue begins with their 4th date, and Bobby slaps himself, thinking he should have kissed Romeo. And I'm like. What. exactly. have you been doing those past dates. if you haven't even kissed?!

But the concept of dates is very alien to me, we were actually talking about that with my boyfriend this week-end. I considered us boyfriend our very first date, where he had the option to go back home and chose to actually follow me home. I was like, "okay, we're boyfriends then" and we definitely kissed, I'll tell ya. But in *his* head, we only became boyfriends weeks later when I realized he was missing me while I was away. What a goof. I love him.

So 4 dates without even kissing? Gay kids? This is completely absurd but okay. Gotta milk that teenage angst.

The whole team meanwhile has been waiting in Bobby's room to tell him that, uh, things were going to get complicated for him and his boyfriend.

Then we get a flashback to their first date! They held hands, how wonderful.

And in the present, Bobby takes part in the attack on New Attilan (Romeo's home). Date #2 recollection! They play Laser Tag and Romeo argues those things are a relic of the past, but at least in my country, they're still very popular so what gives?

Date #3! They splashed in a Water Park!

Bobby finds Romeo in a safe room with non-combattants, which I find sad because I'm sure Romeo's skills have battle applications... but reassuring other people is probably important as well.

Well. I guess that's a way to make it important!

Together, they leave the place because love is more important than a silly battle with dubious motivations.

It's only reading the comments on a certain website that I understand that Romeo's called like that because... it's a Romeo and Juliet story. Duh.

4. All-New X-Men (2016) #19

I assume the issue in-between shows what happens aside from them. This is all definitely slower pacing than what I'm used to, not that I'm complaining.

I thought it would be a grand war final issue, but the blurb says the war has ended. Oh. Uh. Okay. You know what? Let's skim through #18.

It... doesn't help much, though. There's parallel series where the crux happens. Oh well. I sure wouldn't be satisfied if I was only reading one magazine. At least, if you're wondering, Bobby went back to help his team.

So, #19!

Who are you and what did you do to Romeo?!

So Hank sends the OG 5 to their past... but they discover that their originals never left. So the OG5 who were transported to the future will stay in the future (so, the present). Okay, that's a good conclusion!

Gee, I wonder what we're reading n--

5. Iceman (2017) #1

Tuuuuuurns out... This comic series features TWO Icemen: current Iceman, and displaced Iceman. Huh! I didn't see that coming.

We get a nice Romeo cameo, and Current!Bobby is called because his father is in the hospital. He didn't come out to his family, that sucks.

His family sucks, by the way, dear Lord.

Intriguing series, not sure I'll ever read it though.

So... that's it. Romeo pretty much doesn't appear anymore between 2017 and 2021.

So here I was, thinking it was intriguing, that story about the displaced X-Men. I had to find out what happened to Displaced!Bobby!

Turns out he does have a storyline with his companions in X-Men Blue and it's more or less... harrowing.

What's in red brackets is what happens in All-New X-Men (2016) #19. After that, it's X-Men Blue. Dear Lord. That's a nasty retcon.

So I assume that the next part of the Bobby/Romeo storyline is with Current!Bobby then. Oof. We'll see that in the next post!

[immacaria]

  Rain hits the window, water rolling down it as busy men run on the sidewalk beneath. The room is pleasantly cold, the kind of cold that keeps you from getting off your bed and makes you miss appointments. Not that there are any appointments for Morpheus to attend this morning.

  He watches the water rolling down with lightning brights the dark day outside his room and feels the warmth of covers and a human body around him. Under him, Hob is sleeping soundly, every now and then letting out a small snore that gets both of their bodies trembling. He also has no appointments to attend this morning.

  So, instead, Morpheus - because he is no longer Dream of the Endless, but rather Morpheus Gadling - watches the water and thinks about everything he left behind. A particularly large drop is racing towards others, getting bigger and bigger, and he thinks of the Dreaming. He is no longer Dream, barely an Endless anymore.

  He has renounced his crown, laid down his staff and passed the throne to another. Now, all he is is an immortal being without any power or influence. Yet there's no other way he ought it to happen.

  His son, Orpheus, is alive and well, living in the Dream along with Daniel, who is now Dream of the Endless. His people are being taken care of. His family has kept on living without his presence, as many times before.

  And his husband, well, his husband now sleeps under him, sweat has cooled on his skin and red bite marks slowly fade against his neck.

  Hob Gadling, his dear husband, the one who waited century after century, the one who never stopped hoping and wishing for life, the crazy human that refused his sister's gift. Like him, Morpheus will not age or die, unless explicitly saying so. They will be together forever, as long as they can handle each other.

  It was not easy, Morpheus admits, to get himself to understand. After being imprisoned for over one hundred years, he was not alright. He was slowly crumbling at the seams, disappearing in front of his people and family without caring. Hob had been the one to force him to realise what was happening and, this time, he was not rejected.

  The large drop of water reaches the windowsill and, as if on cue, Hob starts to stir underneath him. He moves his head to the right, watching Hob's nose twirl from side to side as his hands begin to look for him. His eyebrows furrow for a moment before warm hands wrap themselves against his waist and they relax again.

  A low chuckle leaves Morpheus' mouth as he reaches out and plants a kiss to Hob's jaw. Then another. And another. And another. He takes his time - because they got time and lingers on every spot, savouring the richness of his beloved's skin.

  "Beloved." He whispers against the point between ear and face and smiles.

  "Darling." There are little, tiny holes over all times Hob perforated his ears and he kisses every and single one of them.

  "My love." He strays over to his eyes and brow, lips moving against them lightly.

  "Husband." He says at least, kissing the bridge of his nose and the corners of his mouth.

  Under him, Hob groans, hands twisting against his waist and opens one eye ever the slightest. He takes a deep breath as thunder rolls outside the room and a sigh leaves his mouth. There's just enough light in the room for Morpheus to see his shiny eyes and his dark lashes and his lopsided smile.

  "Hullo." Hob says, pulling him closer. He presses his nose against his cheek, inhaling deep.

  Since Dream retired, leaving the Dreaming for Daniel and becoming a mere immortal, their mornings have been like this. Lazy, slow, comfortable. Old people, Matthew said once, they were old people.

  Not that Morpheus minds being old along Hob, not when it means he gets to have this. Every morning they spend some minutes here on the bed, just basking on each other's presences and feeling their hearts - Because now he had a real one, not a creation of his, inside his chest - beat together in synch, marvellously alive. And when they are ready to get up, they go to the kitchen and he gets to see Hob making tea and breakfast for them, hair sticking to all possible and impossible directions and quietly mumbling the songs on the radio.

  "What are you thinking about, dove?" Hob whispers and Morpheus knows he is smiling. Lately, Hob is always smiling. Whenever he turns to him, a smile appears on his face, one of admiration and surprise as if he can't really believe he got to have Morpheus there every second of every day for the rest of their lives, as if this was an impossible thing to achieve.

  "About how much I love you." He whispers back, letting himself be pulled closer, almost to the top of the other man. "About how this was never something I thought possible. About how all of this is because of you."

  "Sweet flaterer." Hob says and kisses the corner of his mouth. 

  “It’s all your fault.” And when Hob laughs, he adds. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

.........................................................................................................................

  This is for the Dreamling Nation Server who has just got out of an angst war that lasted two days and left us all in pieces and my amazing sib @milenaalaire. I’m going to especially tag @quillingwords, who was having a depressive moment in the server’s channel, and Auntie @mathomhouse-e, who was suffering with Hounds.