#whether shes complaining or gushing ill take it all and love it because it came from her

[gorillaxyz]

i love my sister... we talked about demon slayer again :) and she complained about how bad jjk is

[engie-ivy]

The girls have a bet, the boys eavesdrop

“Merlin, Mary,” Marlene says. “You hadn’t noticed that until now? He’s been looking at Lupin like love sick puppy since third year.”

Remus eyes widen, but he doesn’t dare to turn his head to look at Sirius.

Stupid ideas and dumb bets

Boys cannot go up to the girls’ dormitory. Animals, however, have no trouble walking up those stairs, and once upstairs, his Animagii friends managed to pull Remus up as well. Which is how Remus finds himself crouched under the Invisibility Cloak with his three friends in the corner of Lily, Marlene, Mary and Emmeline’s dorm.

James had overheard Marlene tell Dorcas and Amelia that they were all to meet in their dorm that evening, to discuss dates for the upcoming Yule Ball. James had immediately decided that this was a conversation he needed to hear, as he was particularly interested in Lily’s thoughts on the matter. Remus was against the whole scheme, and had lectured his friends on breaching the girls’ privacy, but to no avail. Remus only decided to join to prevent his friends from being creepy, or at least more creepy than they’re already being. Not that Remus actually thinks his friends would do something like peek at the girls. He actually tested James. They had decided that Remus should look into the dorm first to check if all the girls were properly dressed, as Remus is as innocent and unassuming as can be, and he had said that Lily was standing in her bra. James passed his test with flying colours, as instead of immediately looking himself, he pulled Remus back and scolded him for not averting his eyes.

So now Remus is huddled under the Invisibility Cloak, where they only fit if Peter remains in his rat form, on the cold floor of Lily’s dorm besides her bed. He only refrains from complaining about his current predicament because Sirius is pressed against him so close he can feel the warmth of his body and his hair tickling his face.

In the middle of the room, Lily is sitting on her bed, knees tucked underneath her, wearing pyjamas and her hair in a messy bun on top of her head. Dorcas and Marlene are sitting on the edge of Marlene’s bed, Mary is lying upside down on a pillow on the floor, and on some other pillows scattered around, Emmeline, Hestia and Amelia are sitting.

“He’s going to ask you!” Dorcas says.

Lily brushes a hair from her face. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“Any sensible person wouldn’t, but Snivellus…”

“Don’t call him that childish nickname Potter and Black came up with.”

“He’s called you a lot worse,” Dorcas replies.

“Exactly,” Lily says. “And you don’t really think that after calling me the m-word in front of the entire school he’ll have the nerve to ask me to the Yule Ball?”

“You know what would really piss him off?” Mary says with a grin. “If you’d go to the ball with James Potter!”

Remus glances over at James, but he doesn’t look as pleased with this as Remus would expect.

Lily huffs. “I don’t care enough about Sniv- Snape to choose my date purely based on his feelings.”

“Besides,” Marlene adds. “That wouldn’t be fair to Potter. He really cares about you.”

“Potter only cares about himself,” Lily mutters.

“Lils, you know that’s not true,” Emmeline says. “He deserves more credit than that.”

Lily rolls her eyes. “You just like him because he’s the great Quidditch hero with good abs.”

Marlene leans forward with a sly smile “So you have been noticing Potter’s abs.”

Lily blushes and throws a pillow at her face. “Shut up.”

Remus sees James practically beaming. What Remus hopes he’ll learn from this is that he should show Lily his caring side more, and let her know how his feelings for her are sincere. What Remus fears he’ll learn from this is to show his abs more around Lily.

“So what’s the current status?” Dorcas asks. “We have Mary going with Peter, Emmeline going with Gideon, Marlene going with me-”

“Oh?” Marlene asks. “I don’t believe you have asked me yet?”

“Too bad, McKinnon,” Dorcas says, while pulling Marlene in and kissing her temple. “That was part of the deal when you agreed to be my girlfriend.”

Marlene chuckles. “I’m glad I don’t have to go through the trouble of getting one of those obnoxious boys as my date.”

“Who would you pick from the guys if you had to?” Hestia asks.

“Who would you pick from the girls if you had to?”

“Lily.”

“Lily.”

“Lily, for sure.”

“Yeah, Lily.”

“Aaaw, you girls!”

“Now Marlene, who would it be?”

“Sirius Black,” Marlene says. Lily rolls her eyes, but Marlene just shrugs. “If I have to, I might as well go with the fittest bloke.”

Remus can agree with her there, and is suddenly very glad for Dorcas. Next to him, Sirius has a smug smile on his face.

“You’d just do that to meddle with the bet!”

Remus frowns. The bet?

“Oh, you’d know all about meddling with the bet, won’t you, Emmeline?” Amelia says. “I heard you talk to Lupin the other day when Potter and Black entered the common room!”

Emmeline flips her hair over her shoulder. “Why, Amelia, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You kept talking about ‘how broad Black’s shoulders have become since he has started playing Quidditch’.”

“I was just making conversation.”

“You were putting ideas in his head!”

“Mia, please,” Lily says. “I hardly think Remus Lupin needs Emmeline to put the idea of Sirius Black’s broad shoulders in his head. I’m pretty sure they’re well-represented there already.”

The girls giggle, and Remus feels his cheeks burn. He feels said broad shoulders pressed against him, and the owner glance curiously at him.

“Can I still change my answer?” Mary asks. “I had no, but I was sitting across of Lupin and Black in the library, and Lupin was enthusiastic telling Black about this book he had read, and Black was looking at him so fondly!”

“Merlin, Mary,” Marlene says. “You hadn’t noticed that until now? He’s been looking at Lupin like love sick puppy since third year.”

Remus eyes widen, but he doesn’t dare to turn his head to look at Sirius.

“There’s no changing your answer based on new insights anyway.” Amelia takes a piece of parchment out of her pocket. “It stays as follows,” she says, before she starts reading out loud. “Official bets on the matter of whether Sirius Black and Remus Lupin will get their shite together in time for the Yule Ball and be each other’s date: Lily, Emmeline, Alice, Hestia: yes. Marlene, Dorcas, Mary, Amelia: no.”

Remus still can’t look at Sirius. He doesn’t know what to feel. Mortification that he’s apparently been so obvious, for sure, but also hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, the girls are onto something and Sirius is into him as well?

“I don’t want to be pessimistic,” Marlene says. “But honestly, I think it’ll take more time for Sirius Black to get his head out of his arse. We’ll be lucky if they figure it out before next year’s ball.”

“Lupin won’t be much better,” Emmeline says. “He’s a super smart guy, but when it comes to Sirius Black, his IQ drops like twenty points. I was working on a Potions essay with him the other day, and Black was standing behind us throwing the Quaffle back and forth with Potter. I pretended like everything was fine, but he didn’t hear two-third of the questions I was asking!”

Mary chuckles. “Oh Emmeline, you can’t expect Lupin to focus on Potions when Black’s arse is in view!”

Now mortification definitely takes over.

“I can’t handle another year of this, though!” Lily groans. “Every time I’m in a room with the two of them together I wish I brought a knife to cut the sexual tension.”

“I’m surprised you’re all for it, Lily,” Dorcas says. “I know how much you like Lupin, but honestly, I thought you saw Black as an annoying, arrogant and loud prat?”

“Nah,” Lily says. “I’ve discovered there’s more to him than that long ago. And even if he acts brash half of the time, he’s so thoughtful and caring when it comes to Lupin! I’d hardly recognize him.”

“I know!” Mary gushes. “Like, normally he can’t pay attention in class for longer than five minutes, but when Remus is ill and can’t come to class, he takes notes of every word the teacher says, even during History of Magic, just in case Lupin wants to know something. And when does anyone ever wants to know anything about History of Magic?”

Remus blinks. Of course, Sirius can be very considerate, and Remus’s circumstances may make him more in need of his kindness, but it can’t have anything to do with Remus himself, right?

Suddenly, Alice bursts through the door. “Frank just asked me for the Yule Ball!” She squeals.

Immediately, the girls jump to their feet and hug her in excited exclamations of delight. In the consternation, James grabs Sirius and Remus’s arms and drags them to their feet and out of the room.

Nobody says anything until they’re back in their own dorm. Remus sits down on the edge of his bed and becomes extremely interested in the floor.

“Ehm,” James says. “I think Wormtail and I should go to… Ehm, well, not be here.”

After they’ve left, Remus hears Sirius scrape his throat. He jumps, as Sirius is standing much closer than he had expected. He looks up in Sirius’s eyes, and sees his nervousness.

“So,” Sirius says. “It seems like the girls are betting whether we’re going to the Yule Ball together?”

“So it seems indeed,” Remus replies with a nervous laugh.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “After McKinnon called me an arrogant twat during Quidditch practice, I’d hate to have her win the bet.”

“Do you now?” Remus asks with a smile. “You’d ask me to be your date just to spite McKinnon?”

“That,” Sirius says. “And also because I’ve allegedly been looking at you like a love sick puppy for years, and taking History of Magic notes, as it turns out, is not the best way to woo you. So what do you say?”

A happy, warm feeling spreads through Remus’s chest and he’s suddenly very glad for James and his stupid ideas and the girls and their dumb bets.

“If you don’t mind having a date whose IQ drops twenty points around you and who prioritizes ogling you over Potions essays?”

[svtkillua]

little lion man > 2

rating: [pg-13 / angst] pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader x todoroki shouto warnings: cursing, lots of yummy angst >:)) word count: 11.3k listen while you read here!

join the discord!

ch.1 + ch.2 + ch.3 + ch.4 (final) + alt. ending

A broken heart was a nuisance, an annoying leech that sucked the life out of you every moment you paused to think about the pain it was spreading through your limbs. Every second you spent with your mind not occupied you wanted to scream and cry. It felt like your emotions were burning embers and anytime you paused to give it oxygen the fire would grow and consume you til you were nothing but ashes.

You  had been on a roller coaster for a week straight, you had highs and lows and every dip and turn was filled with Bakugou. He was in your favorite songs and covering your walls. He was in your brain and in your vision and filled your senses down to your atoms that made you alive. Sometimes you felt angry, sometimes you felt happy, but mostly you felt so incredibly sad.

You’d managed to, mostly, get Bakugou off your case after repeatedly insisting you’d just been surprised and upset at the possibility of losing him. It wasn’t technically a lie, you were definitely surprised when he’d announced his plans to get engaged. To say you hadn’t seen it coming would have been an understatement.  You conveniently left out that your heart had been crushed and that you’d never suffered a pain more severe in your entire life thus far. It had felt like you got hit head on by a speeding train that you’d been too slow to dodge.

Now was the hard part; to continue to act like you were okay, like you couldn’t wait to watch him get married and see them began their happily ever after. You were pinning your emotions to the back of your mind and tying them down with a neat little bow because you needed to. You would be the best friend Bakugou deserved and yearned for right now, even if it made you feel like your insides were rotting.

All of it was frustrating. It was frustrating he didn’t love you but you so unwaveringly loved him. It was frustrating he could so easily tell when something was wrong with you and made it so much harder for you to lie. It was frustrating that every moment alone felt like torture because all you could think of was him with her and there was nothing to distract you. He had been your distraction when you’d been hurt before, and now he was unknowingly the cause and couldn’t be the cure.

Maybe you’d just feel this sad, heartbroken and lonely forever. Maybe you’d always be stupidly in love with someone whose heart was taken. Maybe you were foolish for thinking you could’ve had a chance if you tried harder. Maybe you’d be alone and in love til the day you died with someone you’d never have and would never want you. Maybe that was your fate in life, to have a permanent fake smile and empty feeling in your chest.

It was all affecting you more than you could let on, though you were mostly convincing, sometimes even to yourself. It was like your brain had turned to stone and got chipped to pieces too small to make coherent thoughts other than how awful you felt at times. You just needed to ignore the gnawing in your chest that had been so consistent lately it was becoming a part of you. Then you would be fine, you had to be.

For Bakugou.

He was obviously worried about you, even after the long phone call and a few days passing. He’d been calling more frequently and every time his voice would waver on the edge of concern when your tone wasn’t quite right. Whether or not he trusted what you had told him didn’t matter, because you could hear the worry lacing his tone when he’d repeatedly asked if you were okay. It only solidified your decision to put your feelings aside and focus on him, because you loved him too much to egg on the anxiety you were causing him. Besides, there was no reason for the both of you to be living a pained existence.

Convincing yourself that locking your feelings behind a perfect smile would be easy had been step one, though in the far parts of your mind you knew it wouldn’t ever work. Now, you just had to actually put that thought into action and try to be there for him. Perhaps the self sacrifice would persuade the universe to give you a break.

The wind whipped at your cheeks as your eyes squinted into the cool air blowing your hair away from your face. Your feet made soft clapping sounds against the pavement as you took a quick peek towards Bakugou’s building, the large inconspicuous residence you hadn’t been to in months. Perhaps it felt more intimidating because you’d be alone with Bakugou for the first time in a long time. The thought made your abdomen twist uncomfortably, the wind shifting directions, your jacket flitting open.

The sky was a pale blue and dotted with soft looking white clouds, the streets slow but bustling as workers fled their jobs for lunch. The day wasn’t nearly as ominous looking as your last time seeing Bakugou had been, but your mind still felt restless as the front door came into view. Your fingers were wrapping around your phone before you could dwell on it, plucking it from your coat pocket, fingers to drumming across the glass.

To; Bakugou [ 15:04 ]:

I’m here come let me in it’s cold!

Coming over for a late lunch had been Bakugou’s idea after you’d been seemingly sticking to phone calls rather than visits in person when he had free time. He’d been complaining about it and you could only tell the boy no so many times before he’d multiply his suspicions and assume the worst. He opened the door after a few minutes, a breathtaking grin on his face as he promptly reached out and tugged you inside.

You were met with a gush of warmth as the door closed behind you, a content sigh slipping out as you hung up your coat and slid your phone into your back pocket for safekeeping. He flashed a relaxed smile as you slipped your shoes off, his body pulling yours in for a hug the moment you stood upright. You tensed for a second when his body molded into yours, but took a shaky breathe to relax, slithering your own arms around his waist.

“Missed you.” He hummed mutely and slowly slid his arms off of you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he looked down at you. His hands moved to your shoulders as he held you at an arm’s length, eyes examining your entirety.

“We talked on the phone yesterday, Katsu.” You quietly laughed and patted his chest with your palms out flat, dipping your body away from him as you moved further into his home. Something about being here had always made you feel content. Maybe it was because it smelled like he did when you’d hug him so tight he’d burn into your senses.

Your eyes flickered around the living room you hadn’t seen in so long, landing on picture frame after picture frame filled with photos of him and Camie. Sure, there were some mixed in of yourself, his family and the boys, but you could tell without counting that most of the new items in the room were featuring her. From the baby pink teddy bear sitting on a desk in the corner, to the several photos of the two of them dotting the white walls, her presence was made known.

Hatred wasn’t something you felt for her but jealousy without a doubt was. It wasn’t that you disliked yourself, you just had an ever expanding nagging in your brain reminding you of all the things she had you lacked. She was smart and graceful and kind and oh so beautiful, according to Bakugou. She had gotten his affections just by being herself and you were resentful that you being you apparently wasn’t enough to do the same. Not for him, at least.

He cared about her and that was so immensely obvious just by having seen the two of them interacting. It made your confidence deflate. All the things you so badly wanted to do with Bakugou, she would get. The memory of her kissing his lips and holding his hand replayed in your head like a sick movie designed to make you ill and you had to take a deep breathe to try to push that sickness away.

You followed Bakugou’s retreating back towards his kitchen, away from the taunting photos, where he’d set up a small lunch for the pair of you. A small smile spread on your lips as you sat, eyes watching him move around his kitchen to get you both drinks. You could see his lips moving but his words weren’t registering in your conscience, though he seemed to be talking about what he ordered you for lunch. All you could focus on was how relaxed he looked there in the kitchen with you, chuckling to himself about how much food he’d bought.

Little moments like this had been what made it so simple to develop feelings for him. He just seemed so close to you in those minutes when he was the most himself he could be, just talking about his day and moving without thinking. When you were alone like this he wasn’t Bakugou Katsuki the hero, he was Bakugou Katsuki, your idiot of a best friend who loved to make you smile.

Had you really been that stupid for thinking that maybe, somewhere, in the deepest parts of his heart, he had been falling in love with you too?  Had it been stupid to think that these moments alone had felt just a right as they had to you? How was it possible for you to have been developing such different feelings every single second of your time together? You had only ever been watching him when he had never really glanced at you, not in the way you yearned for.

“Here we go.” Bakugou sighed, finally settling into his seat, placing a mug of your favorite tea in front of you before he sipped some of his own. You noticed he was using the mug you’d sent him a couple months ago while he was on tour, shifting your eyes to his face as you picked up your utensils.

“Thanks, Katsu.” You smiled a small but genuine smile as you took a bite, your smile spreading as you took another, much bigger one. Bakugou’s light laughter made heat rush along your face as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Shut up, I haven’t eaten all day.” You defended halfheartedly, taking another bite before snapping your chopsticks towards his face, which only made him laugh a bit harder, his head shaking from side to side.

“You just look cute with your cheeks all puffed out like that. Like a chipmunk or something.” He commented, using his finger tip to poke one of your food filled cheeks, making your eyes roll.

The two of you fell into your easy rhythm so quickly and it felt like for just a few minutes you didn’t have to keep your guard up. You didn’t need to pretend you were happy because simply being with Bakugou made you so much happier than you wanted to admit. You wanted so badly to hate him for making you feel this way, but you just couldn’t seem to.

You were both sipping your tea, plates mostly empty,  a huge amount of leftovers on the counter. The kitchen silent besides the quiet ticking of the clock on the far wall behind you, as it had been for a few moments since your conversation died out. His eyes had averted from yours when the silence fell, your own taking advantage of the beat in conversation,  trailing over the lines of his jaw and neck. You watched as his muscles moved when he swallowed and let out a small huff of air, it sounding a little strained.

His fingertip was dragging lazily along the rim of the mug he had set down, a drip of the brown liquid rolling down the side of the cup and pooling onto the table below it. Your knee bounced under the table as he took a slow inhale before he spoke, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

“Were you mad at me? The other night, I mean? Were you mad?” His eyes were avoiding yours as the words slipped out, perhaps because he knew this was the tenth time he’d asked you the past week if he’d done something wrong. To you, he had done something hugely wrong by loving Camie instead of you, but you couldn’t exactly tell him that without telling him everything, and that was a conversation you definitely weren’t having right that moment.

“Why would I have been mad at you Katsu?” You took a second to compose yourself before you spoke, not wanting to give yourself away or say something you shouldn’t. You knew if you kept avoiding this conversation he’d eventually grow agitated but you also had to tread carefully or he’d start figuring things out.

You lifted your cup up to your lips, which puckered to blow some of the steam away before you took a drink. His eyes shifted over to your, moving from your hands, to the mug, then up to your eyes, his own masked slightly by his lashes and messy, spiky pieces of hair. He ran his fingers through it to push it aside.

“I don’t know, I just…  I just feel like something changed, like we changed. I don’t want you to think that just because I’ll be married to Camie that we’re going to be any different. I wouldn’t ever let that happen to us.” His bottom lip tucked up under his teeth as he scrunched his face up some. His ruby eyes squinted closed as his lip slowly slipped out from under his teeth, lips pursing as he debated his words. “I know that everything seems really sudden, we’ve only really been together a year. I shouldn’t have expected you to be ecstatic when you barely know her.”

His voice was quiet but felt so loud in the space surrounding you, the air reverberating with the sounds. Everything had changed when he told you, you changed and you knew he could see the shift. The way he’d hugged you when he left made it obvious he knew you weren’t okay even if he appeared to be telling himself you were. You couldn’t have been sure why, maybe it was because Kaminari had walked in on your conversation, or perhaps it was because Camie had been there.

“She’s just so incredible, she’s so special to me. I don’t even know how I got lucky enough to get her. The idea of losing Camie now…” He trailed off his little rant, eyes moving away from yours and down towards his cup, staring at his spoon as he swirled it around. His head shook slightly as he tilted his head upwards so his eyes were on you again.

You were sure you loved him more than Camie never would. How was it possible for him to not see that you meant so much more to him than a friend? How could he for a second think that no one who love him again when you always had?

“I just, I can’t lose you, either of you. I need her but I need you too, so badly.” Bakugou’s gentle tone felt like he was trying to calm you down, like he didn’t want to awaken the sadness in your heart he wasn’t sure was there inside you. “No matter what happens with me and her I’m always going to care about you and need you, here, with me.”

Was it possible to be dumped by someone you were never dating? You felt like he was giving you the talk when all you’d ever done was daydream from a safe distance about what it would be like to be his. Why did he feel the need to explain how much he needed her when you didn’t need convincing that he was in love with her? You thought you were the only one not acting like yourself, but seeing Bakugou’s eyes now darting between yours made you question that.

“Katsu, I know you love her, I know you need her. Relax. You know you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” It was the truth, Bakugou never needed to explain himself to you, and right now you didn’t particularly want him to. You could only listen to him fawn over her so much before you’d start feeling like you were being suffocated. “I just want you to be happy Bakugou, no matter what.”

He stayed still for a moment, his fingers having grown motionless against the cup as he focused in on you. He was scrutinizing you, trying to read your thoughts and find out your very secrets you were struggling to hide. You’d thought you’d been convincing but perhaps you weren’t as good of an actress as you had thought.

The obnoxious ringing from his phone got the attention of both of your gazes, his screen lighting up and flashing with Camie’s name. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, standing up with your dirty cup and heading towards the kitchen sink as he cleared his throat behind you before answering.

“Hey…Yeah, sorry we were eating lunch.” You could hear bits of his conversation as you turned the water on and rinsed your cup out, glancing at him over your shoulder as he retreated from the room, phone pressed to his ear as his voice caught your ears again. “No, it’s just me and her.”

A quiet sigh left your lips once he was out of your line of vision and you tilted your head downwards, damp hands gripping the countertop. You could feel yourself getting worked up as you repeated him talking about her in your head.

In the movies and books they always made it seem like getting your heart broken was one quick moment, but it wasn’t. It was so slow. It was all consuming and would build and build until you finally couldn’t take it anymore. It would kick at your chest and turn your skin deep purple and blue. It would throw hammers at your ribs and rip apart the bones before yanking out your heart. It would squeeze it tightly and cut off the blood flow and make that pain grow and grow til it was all too much.

It was breaking you, the only question was what would be the final push to ruin you. How many more words of his love for her could you take?  You were barely making it as it was, your eyes were lined in dark circles makeup couldn’t quite cover up, your body sluggish and mind in a fog. You could only ignore the silent pain for so long before you were going to lose it, despite how hard you were trying to make it okay.

You placed the cup in the dish rack before padding your way through the house, looking for Bakugou, spotting his back in the crack of his bedroom door. Judging by the sound of his muffled voice he appeared to still be on the phone, his messy hair moving slightly as he shook his bit of head you could see.

“…just haven’t been alone for a while, that’s all. You know I wanna see you, too.” Was all you picked up as you walked past, going into his makeshift study. It was a small room with a desk, some bookshelves and a little keyboard in the corner. You shut the door behind you as you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You dropped down into the chair at his desk, using your foot to kick off the ground and give it a light spin.

The room was hushed besides the sound of the world outside coming through the barely cracked open window, the curtains fluttering in the breeze coming through. His space was littered with crumpled up papers and stacks of books and magazines so high you were surprised they hadn’t toppled onto the ground yet.

You sighed quietly as you slid your phone from your pocket, hair falling into your face like a curtain you were too lazy to move. You hummed to yourself as you noticed you had a text waiting from Todoroki and opened it with a tap of your finger, eyes flickering over the words.

Todoroki [ 15:44 ] :

Do you want to come over and watch a movie later? I got that new mystery thriller you wanted to see.

Your fingers drummed over the letters as you sent a quick response back, before setting your phone back into your pocket.

To; Todoroki [ 16:02 ] :

Sorry, was eating lunch with Katsu. That sounds great, I’ll text you once I’m home.

Your fingertip slid along the edge of the desk as you rocked side to side in the chair, eyes trailing along behind it before you paused, noticing his top desk drawer was ajar. Curiosity got the best of you as you slowly gripped the edge, giving it a gentle tug open. It was mostly junk, scrap papers and little notes tossed inside to be reread later. You moved to shut it when it caught your eye; a small, black, velvet box tucked safely in the back corner.

The air felt thick as you halted your movements, unable to tear your eyes away from the unassuming object as your lips parted to let out a sharp breathe. You hesitated before picking it up, your mind going a mile a minute at the possibilities of what could be inside. You held the box delicately in the middle of your palm, as if it could snap and bite you if you touched it wrong. Your breathing felt too labored, chest too tight as you rested your fingers against the top. The sinking feeling in your chest making you gulp for air as you shifted your weight anxiously.

The room felt to silence as you pulled the lid open and your eyes were met with a beautiful diamond ring. It took your brain a second to catch up with what you were seeing, the panic spreading through your veins before you could register that the box had contained exactly what you dreaded. It sparkled when the light hit it as your hand shook and you felt like the universe was mocking you, laughing at how pathetic you’d become.

It was incredible how a stupid piece of jewellery could make your mood plummet. You’d let your guard down too much today with him, you’d forgotten the reality of what was going on outside of the little bubble you’d climbed inside. You’d been idiotic to think you could pretend your feelings into nothingness, foolish even for even giving that kinda thought an ounce of your time. Your fingers shook some so you squeezed your hand tighter around the black velvet, bottom lip beginning to tremble instead.

It definitely wasn’t anything to scoff at, a large teardrop shaped, crystal clear diamond in the center. It had two smaller pink gems on the sides of it, the entire band covered in rosy stones with delicate gold swirls protruding behind the teardrop shape. It screamed Camie. It was elegant and graceful and the pink tones reminded you of the color her cheeks turned when she blushed.

You felt like you could vomit, staring at the perfect stone and thinking of how much it seemed like her. She was just as perfect, just as elegant, just as graceful.

It was no wonder he loved her and not you.

The trepidation that crept up your spine made your entire body tense up, like you’d been shoved in a bath of ice water. Your nose scrunched as you tried to swallow, aware of your loud breathing, fingers snapping the lid shut before you could stare anymore. All you could picture was him slipping it onto her finger and the image made you want to run so far away. Seeing the ring in person only solidified the plans he’d told you, you just hadn’t imagined you’d be seeing it beginning to happen so fast.

The damn perfect ring represented so much more to you than just being a ring. It was everything you weren’t, everything Bakugou loved and cherished all wrapped around in gold and covered in diamonds. It was everything you’d never be and never have and everything you wanted so bad it was crushing you inside. How could you have been so naive to let yourself get here? How could you let your heart be swayed so easily by one boy to the point where he held your whole being in his palm and could toss it aside whenever he pleased? You were just a stupid girl with stupid feelings for a boy who didn’t seem to understand how he could, and was, affecting yours with every move he made towards her.

A single tear slipped down against the side of your nose, your curled up hand rubbing it away as you pushed the box back in place and slammed the drawer shut with your knee. Your hands shook as you walked over and sat idly on the small cushioned bench in front of his keyboard, fingers curling into your palms to make hard fists against your thighs. A shaky breathe fell out as you squeezed your eyes closed, now thankful for the curtain of hair shutting the room around you out.

Your head lifted up towards the ceiling, eyes opening back up as another tear slid out of the corner, spilling along your temple and skimming the shell of your ear, your hand raising to absentmindedly wipe it’s wet trail away. You felt like you weren’t in your body anymore, like your systems had all shut down and put you on low power mode. You were weak, too weak to really cry and too stubborn to address the agony in your bones that was screaming for attention.

You turned your body towards the keyboard, back to the door as you stared down at the pristine white rectangles, mind blank. The keys were untouched while the actual body of the keyboard was littered with little notes and lyrics he’d apparently not wanted to forget. He had a little piece of music you’d given him to practice awhile ago set on the music stand, his messy handwriting all over it.

You wanted to leave. You needed to leave. You felt like you were drowning but no one could see you struggling.  Like your lungs were filling with water and you couldn’t scream for help, only now the water was pain and sadness and you couldn’t scream for help because no one could know you were being killed. No one could know because he couldn’t know.

Your fingers slid over the keys before you really thought about it, barely using pressure to play a somber tune, trying to simultaneously fill the void of silence but also quiet down the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.The emotions you had bubbling just below the surface made your body slouch forwards, eyes run dry but feeling tired.

Why was it that the one you wanted was the one you couldn’t have? Why did you have to fall in love with someone like Bakugou? He had become your everything without even knowing it. He was the sun and the moon and all the stars in the universe and you were just an admirer who stared at it all from a telescope. You’d never even gotten close to capturing him but somehow in your mind you had thought you would.

The quiet melody you played blocked out the sound of Bakugou sighing as he came in the room, but the sound of the door closing caught your attention enough to make your fingers stop their movements. His body sunk onto the bench beside you, a heavy exhale coming from his lips as his hands ran over his face unceremoniously.

“I’m sorry that took so long. It was Camie, she said to tell you hello.” Bakugou spoke with a half convincing smile, his forehead leaning over and resting against your shoulder. You could tell he was put off now, but didn’t want to push it, your mind lingering to the box hidden in the desk as his body relaxed against your side.

You hated how effortlessly he could make your nerves multiply at this proximity, he was barely even touching you but he somehow seemed to have total control over your body. Half of you loved having him so close, loved feeling his lips press into your covered shoulder and hearing his breathing slow. The other half of you, however, dreaded having him like this as it only seemed to make the painful state of your heart more prevalent. You could feel his tense muscles relax against your side, his breathing slowly evening out to his normal pace.

“Teach me to play what you were playing.” He broke the few minutes of silence with his voice, nudging you with his elbow and straightening his back out. His eyes flickered over the keys before he turned his head to look at you, his hair falling further against his forehead. “I’m a good student, I promise.”

You stared at him for a moment before silently nodding, seeing the small smile tug on his lips before you let your fingers repeat the quiet tune, your free hand rested on your lap and tapping the beat into your thigh. You glanced over at him once you finished, nodding towards the piano to indicate he should try.

He nodded his own head, fingers reaching forward and starting to slip ungracefully between each note, hitting the keys a bit too hard to make the melody sound right. You let out an involuntary quiet laugh, making him pout and turn his upper half towards you as he spoke.

“Don’t laugh at me!” He grumbled like a little kid, even stomping his foot lightly to make it the full package. It was almost funny how quickly his mood had shifted from disgruntled and quiet to his usual playful, hotheaded state.

“I’m sorry.” You quipped, laughter quieting down as you shook your head at him and tried to calm your nerves, “You’re just hitting the keys too hard, it has to be more gentle, like this.”

You shifted towards the instrument again, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your fingers float through the melody. You were barely ghosting over the keys, just enough to make an audible sound. Your body moved with the notes, throat vibrating with hums as you let the sounds fill the room.

When you glanced over at him to see if he was paying attention, you noticed his eyes weren’t on the keys, or even your hands, but on your face. He hadn’t noticed you were looking at him, he was too in his head to realize he’d been caught staring. Something about the way his eyes were glued to you, with his lips parted and his breathing slow made your stomach tie into a knot.

You cleared your throat, reaching over and patting his knee with a sigh, which seemed to pull him from whatever was going on in that brain of his. You felt your mind going fuzzy as you shook your head at him.

“You’re a horrible student, you’re not even paying attention.” You scolded, narrowing your eyes at him as if you were mad. He just flashed you a sheepish smile and laughed quietly, bumping his shoulder lightly into yours as he muttered a small apology. For a moment you swore you saw a blush on creep onto his cheeks.

“I got it now.” He defended, hands once again resuming their place on the keys, moving too quickly and too aggressively through the tune, perhaps even worse than before. You rolled your eyes, adjusting your body so it was closer to his before letting your hand fall on top of his above the keys.

“Like this, Katsu..” You mumbled, fingers laying atop of each of his, his body stilling for a moment before beginning to move with your guidance. You tried not to focus on how soft his skin felt against your palm, not daring to look at his face as you swallowed thickly. “You see? Soft, it sounds better this way.”

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet, like speaking too loud would be alarming with how pressed together your bodies were. You finally let your face turn towards his again and instantly realized it was a mistake. You were way too close and at this distance you could see every single detail Bakugou Katsuki had.

His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as his eyes flitted across your face, his tongue poking out of his soft looking lips to wet them. You could see all the tiny details on his face, like the tiny scratch on his cheek from fighting with whoever and how his long eyelashes danced upon his cheeks. His thigh was pressing into yours and your hands were still overlapped though his was no longer moving, which stilled yours. Your nerves that had felt so fried the past few days were suddenly running on overdrive and your brain wasn’t moving well enough to process what was going on.

He let out a shaky breath as his eyes focused in on yours and held them in place, his free hand lifting up and pushing your hair back behind your ear as he spoke.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft, but sounded loud in the silent space around you, his calloused fingers lingering there by your cheek and not moving away. His fingertips dragged across your cheekbone, thumb grazing the corner of your lip just barely but the touch felt too intimate. Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel the blood pumping through your veins, making your fingertips feel like there were drums banging in them.

You couldn’t move, glued to the spot as his hand under yours turned, your palms flush as he slotted his fingers through yours, his other hand slipping away from your face, leaving what felt like burns behind. His eyes moved away from yours and instead to behind you, towards his desk. You were close enough to kiss him, just a tilt of your head and your lips could be on his. Your ribs felt bruised from how hard your heart was thumping into them.  

Your eyes flickered over his face as his eyes remained glued to his desk and you silently wondered what he had said thank you for. Was it for, badly, trying to teach him to play the song, or something else? What had you done that was worthy of a thank you, and why was he holding your hand so tightly the longer he stared across the room? Why did he have to be so beautiful with the light flooding through the window casting a glow over his features? Why did it have to hurt so much to love him?

He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing across the face of your hand as his eyes finally moved to yours, a quiet sigh reaching your ears. He looked serious, his eyes definitive as he stared at you.

“Have you…have you ever thought ab-”

“Babe? Are you guys here?”

Camie’s voice cut off whatever Bakugou was going to say, his hand slipping from yours and his body springing away as if you’d scorched him. He was immediately standing up, eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you as the door to the room opened, Camie’s smiling face meeting the both of yours. You felt an odd sense of nerves course through you for a moment, like you’d almost been caught doing something secret and immoral.

“What are you doing here?” Bakugou asked, his hand raising to scratch the back of his neck. He cleared his throat to try and clear out the waver in his voice, his body moving him a step closer to her.

“I got done with my class early and thought I would bring you guys some dinner.” Camie smiled brightly, giving you a polite wave hello before moving over to wrap her arms around her boyfriend. Bakugou glanced over at you once quickly before he wrapped his arms around her small middle, lifting her off the ground slightly when he stood up with her in his grasp. Her playful gasp and loud squeal had his laughter floating out so easily.

Watching him shift all his focus to her felt crushing, like the moment she showed up you no longer existed. Every step he took towards Camie was a million more away from you. To think for a second there you’d been imaging he was going to kiss you. Were you really that delusional?

The way they so simply made each other happy made you wanna scream. Camie was busy chatting away about her class to Bakugou, his head nodding though judging by the look in his eyes you could tell he wasn’t listening. His eyes were following her lips as they moved, his hands grasping her hips so she didn’t drift too far from him, but his brain wasn’t digesting the words.

You’d been living in a fantasy for a moment and Camie walking in brought you back to reality. You couldn’t keep letting yourself do this, you couldn’t give into how badly you wanted to be with him because this was what always followed. It wasn’t just self sacrificing, it was self destructive.

You tore your eyes away from the pair of them as you slid your phone from your pocket, throat constricted as you quickly texted Todoroki.

To; Todoroki [ 16:47 ]:

Change of plans, would you be able to come get me from Bakugou’s please? I don’t want to walk home, it’s too cold out.

“Did you wanna stay and eat with us?’ Bakugou’s voice met your ears as he spoke to Camie, your eyes on their feet as they shuffled closer to each other. You silently wondered if they’d forgotten you were in a room, Camie had barely even acknowledged your presence the entire time she’d been here. Your phone buzzed with a response, making you glance at it.

Todoroki [ 16:48 ]:

On my way, I’ll be there in a few minutes.

Camie’s giggling made you gaze up again, her trademark blush spread across her cheeks as Bakugou lightly let his fingers tickle her sides, his smile a tad more relaxed than it had been a minute or two ago. You rose to your feet, which made Bakugou look in your direction once quickly, his grip on Camie loosening enough for her to turn her body towards yours.

“I should probably get going, actually.” You said with a forced smile, desperately wanting to get out of the room you were trapped in with the happy pair. Because the truth was you weren’t fine, you weren’t sure you’d ever be fine. You were a wreck and you were forcing things to seem okay because you were too scared to face what may happen if you admitted they weren’t.

Remembering that engagement ring was hidden in the desk beside you made your blood run cold. Your fingernails dug half moons into your palms, bottom lip trembling as the tears threatened to spill while you desperately tried to force them down, starting to move out of the room. How were you supposed to do this? How did anyone do this? Those romantic movies were such shit, no one would want to fall in love if they knew this was how it was going to feel.  

You hadn’t known, and look where that got you.

“You don’t have to go.” Bakugou’s voice clicked in your mind as you exited the room, his footsteps trailing behind you as you made your way back towards the living room. The pictures of them on the walls now felt like they were there to mock you, to remind you that you weren’t wanted.

“We’d love to have you eat with us.” Camie insisted, appearing by Bakugou’s side as she slid her hand slowly into his, her sweet face twisted into a small frown as you slid your shoes back onto your feet. You hated how she answered for the both of them. Then again, Bakugou had invited her to join you both on behalf of the two of you. Maybe he just didn’t care if you wanted her there or not.

“It’s alright, you guys should have some alone time. Todoroki’s on his way already anyway.” You insisted, tugging on your jacket and noticing how Bakugou’s grip on her hand relaxed. Hers only tightened however, her body shuffling about as close to his as she could get without actually being against him. It made your body burn seeing how perfect they looked together, a vision of beauty and pain to your heart.

The room was mute for a moment as you got your jacket situated and buttoned up properly, fingers weaving through your hair and pushing it back off your face while Bakugou just stared. He pursed his lips slightly and then folded them in on themselves, making his mouth a straight, hard line. He looked dejected which you couldn’t quite understand. He had Camie here, he invited her to stay. Why would he be frustrated you were leaving? You knew he wanted you to like her but surely he didn’t expect you to be their constant third wheel.

Camie seemed to notice his quiet state and leaned up, kissing his cheek and frowning in concern as her free hand lifted up and cupped his chin, moving his face towards hers as she quietly asked if he was okay. The worry was clear on her features, her eyebrows furrowed as her thumb drew gentle circles on the curve of his cheek, his head barely nodding in response. You were beyond grateful to hear the knock on the door, turning your body and tugging it open without hesitation.

Todoroki stood with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a dark colored sweater on his top half making him look soft. He had been looking at his shoes, his head lifting up when you answered and a smile spreading on his famous lips.

“Hey.” He spoke, stepping forward to pull your body into his hard chest, arms holding you tight for a small hug, your eyelids fluttering shut and savoring the warmth of his sweater covered chest against your cheek. “You ready to go?”

You nodded and pulled away from him, turning to bid the couple a goodbye, Bakugou staring at you with that unreadable look on his face again. His eyes were on your back, then on Todoroki, his jaw clenched uncomfortably and his free hand balled up into a loose fist. You moved your body forward to his, his demeanor relaxing as he slid his arms around you.

His hug felt different than Todoroki’s, his was hard and made your body crush into his, his palms encasing your back like a shield and his breath fanning across your cheek as he leaned his head down. You were surprised when his lips puckered against your cheek considering Camie was beside him, but she didn’t seem to have much of a reaction other than an uncomfortable clearing of her throat.

“I’ll see you later, Katsu, thank you for lunch.” You said quietly, pulling from his tight grip and rubbing your hands along your forearms anxiously. He simply nodded but said nothing back as you turned away from him. You followed Todoroki out the door, taking a deep breath of the crisp air outside once the door clicked shut behind you. Your muscles were achy and sore as you moved towards the car, body exhausted from the few hours there with Bakugou.

You felt like you’d gone through every emotion, from happy to sad to confused and back again. Your ability to keep it together was becoming paper thin, your mind foggy and begging to just be silent for a few hours. The tiny rope holding you together was being plucked apart string by string and was ready to snap.

The only question was when.

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The taste of the expensive alcohol on your tongue was doing little to dull your senses in the crowded expensive restaurant. The private back room you occupied was lavish, with high ceilings and a dazzling chandelier that sparkled in the dim lighting. The air felt hot and the music was so inaudible it might as well have been turned off.

Your dress was too stuffy, your thighs sticking to the faux leather seat beneath you as you shifted and tugged the too thick material. You were uncomfortable here. Uncomfortable under the gleam of all the expensive things.

Uncomfortable in the stupid dress that made you feel like you were being choked. But most of all, uncomfortable being sat at the end of the table where you had a perfect view of Bakugou and Camie, side by side and feeding each other bites of their dinners.

You didn’t know how you’d been forced to come to Camie’s birthday dinner, Bakugou had insisted she wanted you to come and since most of the boys were coming you’d given in. You were sat between Kaminari and Kirishima. Midoriya, Sero, and Todoroki were across from you at the large wooden table. You hated being here. You hated being subjected to watching the happy couple kiss and hug all night long like some form of specific torture catered towards your secrets and insecurities.

It all felt too much, them so in love, the sound of her friends loud laughter and chatting, the way Kaminari kept catching you staring at Bakugou, the tight anxious feeling in your chest every time Bakugou took a second to glance your way, all of it. Your nerves were at max capacity, body nearly buzzing from the emotions bottled up inside you and all you wanted to do was go home.

You sighed quietly, taking another sip of your drink as you glanced over at Kirishima, who had let out a bored grumble, making you crack a tiny smile. The youngest boy looked like he’d rather be anywhere but there, his arms folded lazily over his broad chest and the corners of his lips just barely turned downwards as he spoke.

“I don’t like her.”

You nearly choked on the sip of your drink you’d just swallowed, Kaminari’s large hand clapping at your back to make sure you could breathe while Midoriya’s eyebrows narrowed across the table at Kirishima.

“That’s not polite, Kirishima.” He scolded, taking a small bite of the food in front of him. Kirishima scoffed quietly as he sat up properly and picked up his own drink, speaking as he lifted it up to his lips.

“Don’t you think this is all a bit much for a birthday party?”

You bit down on your bottom lip as you set your glass down, eyes skimming over the other boys as they remained tight lipped, though Kaminari was bouncing his leg beside yours. Your last birthday you’d spent watching movies and eating pizza with Sero, Kirishima and Tokoyami while Todoroki baked you a cake and Bakugou insisted he did all the decorating. You’d just assumed this was going to be a small dinner, not this lavish affair it seemed to have become, her friends all in expensive looking outfits and the prices on the menu you’d seen astronomical. You could understand Kirishima’s distaste for location choice, it wouldn’t have been your first choice either.

“She’s been all over him all night like she’s trying to show him off.” Kirishima added and set his glass down after taking a swig, his hand overlapping as he folded them neatly in front of his body at the table. “So I don’t like her, period. I don’t really care if that’s rude.”

You took a glance down towards the other end of the table as Midoriya started lecturing Kirishima, muting out their conversation and letting your eyes wander over Bakugou as he took a bite of his food. Camie was chatting away with her friends beside him, his tongue poking out to lick his lips off as his eyes glanced over at her.  His arm moved slightly from its grip around the back of her chair, instead wrapping around her shoulders. A smile tugged on her lips that made jealousy rage in the pit of your stomach from the simple gesture. It killed you to know you’d never have that with him, as much as you were trying to pretend it wasn’t hurting you.

You were scared of what would happen when you let the floodgates open. How were you ever going to move on if you let yourself feel just how deeply those emotions for Bakugou ran? You had been rooted to the same spot for so long hoping that maybe, just maybe, the impossible would happen, but deep in the back of your mind you knew that time was never going to come. That was becoming more obvious with each passing day.

When Bakugou’s eyes flickered towards your end of the table, he paused for a moment, gaze catching yours and you held it, swallowing down the lump that threatened to grow in your throat. He stared at you hard, his expression not changing and his eyes too hard to read from so far away, though you doubted there was any meaning behind them. He’d been distant the past few days, like you’d hurt him and he was pulling away and while it stung, part of you had been thankful for the time to try and put yourself together.

But you missed him, gosh did you miss him. You missed him every second you weren’t with him, even when being with him was murdering your mental state. It was like he was a drug and you were an addict waiting for their next fix. Only with Bakugou, coming down from the high felt more like plummeting off a cliff and landing right on your back, all the air being thrown out of your body along with any signs of happiness.

When Camie turned towards him and spoke something into his ear, his eyes moved away, a smile on his lips as he responded to whatever they were talking about. You pulled your own eyes away, feeling a pair burning into your face and looking over at the source. Todoroki, who you’d caught sending you looks all night. He’d been like your saviour all week, letting you stay at his place when yours felt too lonely, never asking any questions or pushing you to tell him why you weren’t acting like yourself. You knew he had noticed, if anyone was perceptive it was Todoroki, he never missed a thing.

Kaminari cleared his throat beside you, fingertip poking your cheek and gaining your attention as he smiled sweetly in your direction, nodding towards your plate of untouched food as he spoke.

“Are you okay? You’ve barely eaten.” His head tilted to the side, a small frown spreading on his pouty lips and his shoulders slumping, as if your lack of consumption completely deflated his mood.

“I’m alright, just not very hungry. Don’t worry, Kami.” You smiled faintly at him, patting his hand lightly and kissing his cheek, his head bobbing up and down as if he understood. Of course you weren’t hungry. How could you be hungry when you kept watching him kiss her? It made you want to expel everything in your body every time you saw it.

You sighed quietly and pushed your chair out, excusing yourself as Camie’s friends all quieted down to hear the story she was telling them. Bakugou’s fingers were drawing lazy shapes on her bare shoulder blade, your eyes tearing away as you made a silent b-line for the restroom, desperate for a second alone.

The minute the bathroom door closed behind you, you sighed heavily, leaning your back into the hard black door and closing your eyes. You were on the edge of a mental breakdown, your brain on overdrive to even keep you functioning. You were holding too much in. You didn’t want to hurt anyone else’s heart in the process of hurting your own, but could barely handle the feelings consuming you alive.

Your body moved over to the large mirrors above the sink, eyes wandering over the black lace dress that landed mid thigh. You always thought made you look good. Now you thought it made you look depressed, the fabric climbing halfway up your neck and covering the entirety of your arms, it hugging your hollow figure too tight to hide any imperfections you thought you had. It was a stark contrast to the lilac strapless number Camie had gone with. It only amplified how different you both were, neither bad, but one clearly superior in the eyes of Bakugou.

It was a terrible feeling to watch yourself be replaced. Of course you were never the one who filled Bakugou’s heart, but Camie was slowly taking your place in every other way. She was whose pictures covered his walls and whose presents littered his shelves. She was who he sang songs to late at night over the phone and she was the one who kept his attention when she was in the room. You were becoming more obsolete every second she became more relevant.

After a quick splash of water and a few deep breathes, you adjusted your body to stand up straight, hair pulled half back up off your face for once. You slowly pushed the heavy bathroom door open, giving yourself a mental pep talk as you exited the hallway towards the backroom, aware of the eery silence that filled your ears. Why did it make your skin crawl to hear so little chatter?

You scrunched your face up just as you entered the room, confused as to why Bakugou and Camie were standing and no one was speaking, Bakugou’s back to you and Camie’s eyes flickering to yours for a second, before focusing back on him. That was when his body sunk down to the floor and onto one knee, your body halting all movement.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

Right before your very eyes were you watching Bakugou Katsuki crush the very last piece of you.

Gasps filled the air along with excited squeals as he looked up at her, Camie’s delicate hand lifting up to her mouth and covering it in shock, her own eyes filling with tears just as yours were, only hers were of happiness and yours most definitely were not. You saw his reflection in the mirror on the wall, his hands holding open the same velvet box you’d found a few days before, the ring sparkling under the faint light. The world felt like it stopped spinning, your lungs stopping all functions as his eyes met yours in the reflection for just a second, his firm expressing softening for just a second before his eyes tore away from yours, the words flying past his lips without a second thought.

“Camie, will you marry me?”

Hearing the words out loud was the final snip to the string holding you together. Everything began to crumble apart inside you, your cool exterior melting away. Her friends had all burst into cooing and clapping at her exclaimed yes, your body the only one unmoving while the girls all rushed over to see her ring. Your feet started carrying you backwards, your eyes burning and blurry as you saw his body turn towards yours for just a glance. Camie gripped at his arm and pulled him tight to her side as her friends all congratulated them, everyone fawning over them.

Kaminari was staring at Bakugou, then at you, then back at Bakugou, Kirishima complacently beside him looking unimpressed. Todoroki was already moving towards you, pushing past the crowd around them to get to you as you backed up out of the room, whipping around to leave. Your body pushed forward, bumping into a waiter and spilling a drink on yourself but you didn’t stop, rushing out the front doors uncaring about the scene you were causing.

You burst out the front and felt your resolve crumble completely, your body collapsing forward as you stumbled out and a choked sob ripped from your throat. You couldn’t hide it anymore, you didn’t care if it was selfish, you couldn’t pretend you were okay. You weren’t okay, you were so damn far from okay.

The air was filled with the sounds of your loud crying, your entire body shaking as you looked around for somewhere to go, some sign of what to do, struggling to breathe. All you could see in your head was Bakugou down on his knee in front of her and his voice repeating over and over.

He was everywhere, you couldn’t escape him. He was in your head making it hazy and in your eyes making them burn and boil over. He was in your lungs squeezing your airway til it was crushed and nothing could pass through. He was in your very nerves making sure you felt each and every touch he’d ever given you then ripped away. He was in your heart tearing out every last string holding it together until you snapped. You couldn’t do it anymore, it hurt too much.

You struggled to stay standing, seeing spots of black as you tried to stretch straighter. The door behind you opened but you were too weak to turn away. A pair of firm arms enveloped you and that only seemed to make your next wave of tears so much stronger. They were spilling down your cheeks and wetting your flushed skin, the cool wind blowing making your cheeks feel frozen.

You gripped at the strong body’s shirt and bawled into the chest, nostrils flared and mouth wide as you tried to get in oxygen. Your eyes screwed tightly shut as you blocked out the sound of the world around you. You recognized the feel of the hand stroking your hair and dug your nails into his back.

“I love him, Todoroki.” You sobbed, the words coming out choppy, trembling lips having difficulty forming the syllables. “I love him so fucking much.”

“I know.” Todoroki whispered, his grip around you growing more firm as he lifted you off your legs when they went to give out. You’d tried so hard, so so hard to ignore your feelings and you just couldn’t anymore.

You were never going to be his first choice. You were never going to get to hold him and kiss him and tell him how much you loved him. You were never going to be his entire world like he had been yours. Camie was, perfect Camie who had everything you didn’t, and now she had him too.

“Why doesn’t he love me? Why does he love her and not me?” You croaked, arms constricting around his shoulders as his hands gripped below your thighs to keep you steady. “Why am I not enough?”

Todoroki didn’t say anything, his thumbs pressing soft circles into your skin as he kissed his heart shaped lips into your forehead. You bit down hard on your bottom lip to try and hold back the screams you wanted to let out. You tasted metal and released it, using a hand to wipe the tears and snot off your face to no avail. Your eyes wouldn’t quit flowing, like a busted pipe that had been blocked up for years and finally sprung free.

Everything was falling from your lips too fast for you to comprehend, every coherent thought spilling out in cries too loud for such a public space but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, this had been a long time coming.

“I tried so hard to be happy for him. I tried so hard.  Nothing I do is making it any easier, it hurts to look at him. I hurts to think about him, I just want it all to stop. “ You faintly felt one of his hands leave your thigh, the other hand sliding across your backside to stop you from falling to the ground. You heard keys and lifted your head slightly to see he was carrying you to his car parked near by, your voice muffling when you laid your head down against his chest. “I can’t do it anymore.”

His hands slid off your body as he leaned you into the door on your own two feet, a hand on your hip to make sure you wouldn’t fall, before turning toward the door to unlock it. Your crying was subsiding but the ache in your chest was only growing. The tears started coming back however when you heard the door of the restaurant open and footsteps rushing your way.

Bakugou was jogging towards the pair of you, Kaminari hot on his trail and you felt your whole body start to seize again, the tears returning tenfold as you covered your face with your hands, turning into Todoroki as he moved to cover you from Bakugou’s worried figure.

“I’m taking her home, she doesn’t feel well so just go back inside, okay? Go celebrate.” You could make out Todoroki’s words despite the way you were hiccuping as you tried to choke back your crying. Even when you were having a breakdown you didn’t want Bakugou to know, you didn’t want to ruin his night. You wanted to smack yourself for caring so much.

“Shut up, Todoroki.” Bakugou snapped, trying to get around Todoroki who was unmoving. Bakugou’s hand reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away, turning your back to him and facing the car as your knees shook, hand clamping over your mouth to keep your crying silent. “Please look at me, please? Please talk to me, stop shutting me out. Please?”

The concerned begging made it worse, he was the reason you were like this. Had he just proposed tonight to make sure your heart was broken as possible? Did he love to be the one to make you miserable? Did he make sure you were there to see it so you wouldn’t keep thinking maybe he could love you too?

“Fucking go inside Bakugou, you’re making it worse.” Todoroki snapped and his figure tensed behind you. Your back shook with each gasp for air you took, vaguely seeing Kaminari touch Bakugou’s shoulder in the rear-view mirror.

“Katsu, cmon. She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.” Kaminari’s unusually soft voice met your ears, the only one who seemed to be calm in the entire situation, though when his eyes met your reflection in the mirror, his face screamed concern. Whether it was for you or the distraught Bakugou you weren’t sure.

“Will you both fucking shut up and let her speak for herself!” Bakugou snapped, the sound of his feet moving making you clam up, his figure coming around Todoroki who was still trying to block Bakugou from seeing you. The moment Bakugou’s face met yours from over Todoroki’s shoulder, his entire face fell, your own twisting in anguish as you started crying harder again, looking away from him.

“Why..” He started quietly, his hands lifting as if to reach out for you but Todoroki smacked them down, yanking open the car door so you could get inside, effectively creating a barrier between the two of you.

“Because you’re an idiot, Bakugou.” Todoroki sighed, shutting the door once you were inside and instantaneously muffling the voices outside the door. You chest was trembling with every inhale you took, hands shaking as you dug your nails into your thighs and squeezed your eyes shut. Everything you had was broken, everything felt ruined and tarnished and sick.

You didn’t feel like you anymore and you didn’t think you’d ever feel right again, not now. Not now that you saw him choose her right before your very eyes. Right after he looked at you did he shatter everything you’d been so desperately hoping for. Your heart you had so willingly given him he tossed to the ground and smashed under his expensive shoes, then crushed the pieces to dust so they could never be put back together. He did it all with five short, little words.

You couldn’t love someone who wouldn’t ever love you, not anymore.

When you dared to glance out the window you could see Todoroki coming towards the driver’s side door, Kaminari trying to tug Bakugou toward the restaurant. Bakugou’s eyes were glued onto your tinted window, not listening to a thing the taller boy said, a pained expression on his face that paled in comparison to the agony in your chest.

Camie’s head came out from the doors, concern painted on her features as she slipped between Kaminari and Bakugou, her arms sliding around her fiance and hugging him. Her ring glittering in the nighttime lighting made you tear your eyes away, the car moving finally and taking you away from there. You shivered but you weren’t sure if it was from the temperature or from your heart rate.

You felt empty, even as the tears fell silently down your cheeks and slid onto the dress that bunched around your thighs. Your heart was gone and your lungs were empty and your brain was consumed with all the things Bakugou had ever done that made you hurt the most. You heard his voice telling you she was the one. You felt his fingers rubbing into your palm as he held your hand and his lips pressing into your cheek. You saw him kissing her and holding her and getting down on one knee. You felt everything he’d ever done that made your heart ache, and all you could do was sit there and take it.

Bakugou wasn’t yours anymore.

He never was in the first place.

And you were an idiot for ever thinking he could be.

Todoroki’s hand wrapped around your knee, rubbing the ice cold skin as you chewed on the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to just breathe. You took slow, deep inhales through your flared nostrils, body twitching from the erratic cries your body was still producing.

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Todoroki’s gentle tone fell on your deaf ears, your nails digging into your thighs so hard they left angry red scratches in their wake. It felt like the earth was opening up and swallowing you whole. You swallowed hard, eyelids falling shut as you tipped your head to the side so it rested against the cool window.

You lifted your legs up, his hand slipping away as they bent in front of you on the leather seat, your arms wrapping around them. You had goosebumps risen along your calves, your body slouching into the door. You could see your face in the rear view mirror when you opened you eyes, your complexion gaunt and eyelids rimmed in smeared black.  Little grey streaks were spread across your face from the wind blown tears mixing with your watered down mascara, your lip swollen from biting down so hard. You looked like you had finally given up, like nothing in the world could take away the pain in your heart.

“I don’t think I am, Sho.” You whispered, voice cracking as you let your eyes slip back shut “Not this time.”

[candideangel]

Flower Dreams

Fairy Kingdom AU Words: 2122

“How dreadfully boring…I figured in a fairy kingdom’s defense someone would at least attempt to put up a bit of sport…”

An older hume towered over a much smaller one, who was reaching out for a bow, just within reach...so close...but steel came crashing down on the wood, smashing it to bits before her eyes. Eyes cold as the steel to the heel of his boots glaring down at the female figure under him, but in those depths was just nothing. “And you, by far are the one most boring of all.” There was a click and a blinding flash, pain, then just nothing but darkness.

Even when her eyes had opened, the once vibrant world around her had been muted and dulled. Nothing seemed to shine in its usual luster. Vaguely she heard orders, and silently obeyed, armed men falling into a faint as with the flick of a wand flowers sprouted and circled, sprinkling their magic pollen until they dozed. The rest often left to the others, even then she stared on in this grey world; dull, lackluster….

Boring…

~o~o~

Mystel ears twitched absently at the silence of the forest, nothing but the sound of a piece of parchment being scratched on with a quill pen. The path up through trees and wood had been dreadfully quiet, he swore he could hear his own thoughts echo. G’raha breathed out softly through his nose as he glanced about, “Am I even going the right way at this point?” he muttered to himself, allowing the ink a moment to dry before closing the book. He looked back to where he had come, a thick fog lying on the ground making the path behind and ahead of him difficult to see more than several fulms in front of his face. A craving for knowledge as he had been researching in books, and while writings were scarce in history, his curiosity piqued about the land of dreams, a place run by pixies that were supposed to weave dreams to keep nightmares away from those all around the land. Supposedly.

Getting there however? That was a task in itself. The Kingdom of Rainbows, or Il Mheg was often off limits to mortals. Some who did trespass into the territory never returned, most of them looters looking for something to plunder from the rich land. This was probably an exercise in futility. He stiffened though when his ear twitched a little and he turned to some of the trees nearby, “Who’s there?” he called, while not shaken terribly from a sudden noise that he picked up sounding like a hiss. Only silence greeted him and his shoulders sagged a little, “Get ahold of yourself G’raha, you’re just making noise out of nothing. You’ve been surrounded by silence too long that your mind is playing tricks on you.” He shook his head a little bit and would strap the book shut, setting it against his waist and he would continue his way ahead...though he did glance over his shoulder every so often to catch a glimpse of something.

However, little was he aware that he was not alone, holding a pink pixie lightly in her grasp, the fairy tender of the very place he was coming to the forbidden land for...was watching him very closely.

G’raha’s legs were becoming sore, he was about to finally take a break as he was cresting a hill. Everything throbbed dully, but he stopped, just through the remaining trees he could see somewhat through the fog, flowers bright against the grayed canvas of the clouds on the ground. And while it was still far away he could see the faintest shimmering of wings in the distance, the sign of the palace to the newest in the line, the Fairy Queen as rumors mentioned, the crown jewel that housed the beloved majesty. For a moment he could feel his heart nearly stall, and he was certain when the fog would clear up, he could only imagine the beauty hiding behind the curtain. Slowly he would start walking along the path ahead of him, not once glancing to the ground where long since red had dried, paw marks dug in dried mud from rainfall.

As he was just making it to the end of the treeline, he saw something flutter past his vision, giggling a little, then followed by other small balls of light that also chimed with their own giggles. Perhaps those were the pixies? He wasn’t sure, there was a mention in books, but anything that depicted them...they didn’t look like the most friendly of creatures. That was when everything perked to alert, he heard something loud and rumbling like heavy footsteps, followed by a bellowing roar. A chill had gone up his spine and as he turned he saw a large bear-like creature charging without a stop right in his general direction. But it wasn’t a normal bear, this one was a bit larger in size and had blooms sprouting all over its body.

Cursing, he made for a blade in his belt ready to fight and protect himself but a breeze ruffled his bangs as something came between him and the bear’s path. Words passing lips in a language he wasn’t certain of, eyes going to large glimmering blue and pink wings like that of a butterfly. Cracking something dry between palms did this being chant something so soft and sweet-like before blowing a glittering dust towards the charging beast. Silence passed for a moment, everything slowed as a heavy thump came and the bear collapsed onto its side...and snoring? The beast was asleep? Curiosity he paid no mind to the being before him and went to investigate, “It’s...It’s sleeping?” he was surprised as he confirmed it, heart still pounding heavily in his chest as he looked it over. “How in the world did you…” His words stopped short as he felt something land upon his head, he made to grab it but his body felt as if he was no longer in control...swaying and heavy as if held by stone weights. A sparkling dust got in his eyes, and just as he turned to look upon the assailant, his vision began to blur and his body collapsed onto the ground right next to the bear’s.

“How come you wouldn’t let us play with him a little more, Atalanta is so boring!” A pixie complained nearby with a group of others with them. Green eyes stared down at the mystel for a moment until a pink pixie fluttered over, crossing their arms.

“You should have just let him get eaten like the last one. Goodness knows Rosebears need to eat too. What do you expect to do with this mortal? After all, none are too fond with them crossing into the land.”

Atalanta sighed softly and brought up a wand, muttering soft words before with a few flicks of the wrist the mortal’s sleeping body vanished from sight, making sure that the destination was the hill where he had begun, much, much further from Il Mheg. “Titania isn’t going to like that you’ve gone against her wishes!” The pixie warned but Atalanta would glance to the pixie and look over to the fog laden land, then to the pixie swarm and back to the pink one again.

“Bring him to Lhye Mheg, I’m only going to give this mortal a warning, and that will be the end of it.” she replied before turning and butterfly wings fluttered to life and went to the fog covered land that would slowly be lifted, but only to their vision alone.

~o~o~

G’raha’s eyes fluttered open, at first everything a blur, hearing the sound of rushing water, above him was sky the color of a pink rose, clouds a shade reflected by sunset floating by lazily. Slowly he sat up and almost lost his balance as his hand slipped off an edge of a marble fountain...only this fountain stretched...and stretched for malms ahead, water jetting clear as crystal. Just as he straightened he stopped just short of rubbing his temples when a soft voice spoke behind him. “You should know that mortals are not to set foot on Fae land. Whether for ill or for well.”

He expected to find a person beyond the falls of water, but instead the ripples blurred and broke the solid image like a painting ruined by a rainstorm. “I haven’t come for any of ill-intent, you must believe that what I have come for was only research, to study the world of Lhye Mheg, nothing more.” He tried his best to explain himself. 

“Much has been risked keeping you alive, had it been another, or none at all, they would have seen you eaten by the rosebear without second thought. Perhaps turn your corpse into some lovely shrubbery.” The voice that replied, female, was sharp as a thorn. “This will be my only warning to you; do not come back to Il Mheg. When you wake, go home...because if you so choose to intrude a second time it will not be someone as kind as I that keeps you alive, or alive at all.” 

“But I don’t…”

“Unless you have her majesty’s favor, then you are in danger each time you try to step in the land. Now, go, wake. Go back home...and never come here again.”

“Wait a moment! I don’t understand!” He had just woken in this land and wanted to know where he was. He wanted answers. As he reached for the wall of water, he was repelled by a magic barrier. But silence was his only answer, and he grit his teeth. He wasn’t sure if he was awake or not. “What do you mean “wake up” I’m awake right...now…”

Fluttering farther afield, Atalanta would soon land her toes in the grass, glancing back, waiting...and when she recognized his presence as gone, she dropped the illusion, the long stretching fountain no longer there, just the typical round marble one, still gushing water like normal. Far off, she could hear the sound of giggling children, but she wasn’t paying much heed, green eyes gazing down at the flowers under her. What was to be richly vibrant, were slightly off-color, while not black and white...she knew deep down that the true colors were not what she was seeing. But something had stood out on that mystel...something that had gotten her curious enough to follow him...enough to build a need to make sure he was the one thing he kept safe this time.

“What’s wrong?” her pink pixie companion wondered curiously, long yellow colored nails against palm and wrist as their knuckles were to their cheek in thought.

“I’m...not sure.” Atalanta muttered softly to herself then glanced to the pixie, “...Red is supposed to be vibrant right?” In return was a stunned silence. Oh, the pixie was aware of the fairy’s condition, but this is the first time the Spring Flower Fairy had ever truly made mention of a color and its vibrancy. Perhaps they should report this new finding, perhaps the fairy was becoming better!

~o~o~

G’raha though would soon startle awake staring at a no longer rose tinted sky, and instead it was blackened with many stars twinkling above his head. His memory was fuzzy on how he ended up where he was but as he sat up he stared at the hill he had just walked, then behind him to the purple foliage behind him. “Gods damn it…” he muttered under his breath then paused as he reached up, finding something soft and velvety he would remove it from his head, staring at the beautiful crown of blue and purple flowers in various shades. It was rather pretty, but his nose twitched a little, and he took a curious sniff from the flowers, while there was a scent of the blooms that were arranged; there was something off. “Must’ve been magic to put me to sleep…” he muttered looking down at it then to the hill, frowning a little.

“Curry favor with their majesty? How in the Seven Hells do I do that when I can’t even step foot in the place?” he groused then sighed staring at the crown of flowers in his hands. Then he looked back to the way home, it was still so far away, he would just have to take shelter at one of the military outposts and rest there. Perhaps then he would mull over what he could remember, and perhaps return with a better plan of action without appearing as an intruder upon Fae soil.

[mysticmikalla]

dunno if this has been requested yet but RFA (withvV and Saeran) hearing Jumin sing for the first time? extra loves if there's a jumin+v duet

lmao I decided to do this as apart ll of The moment the RFA realizedthey were gay/bi for Jumin Han HC, so make sure to read that one first!

***

Nobody had mentioned the incident again

The RFA had quickly gone back to normal, but there were someobvious changes

Zen no longer snapped at Jumin all the time, and Jaeheecomplained less about her work hours

After all, longer work hours would equal to more opportunities tohear that again, to be in his presence 

Yoosung felt flustered whenever it was just him and Jumin in thechatroom, afraid that his newfound feelings for the businessman would resurfaceagain

Seven started to make even more jokes, imagining the beautifulraven-haired man laughing or even just cracking a smile again because of him

Jumin decided not to get a restraining order against Zen andSeven, so  everything was back to the usual again

…Until the following RFA meeting, where once again they allgathered at Jumin’s penthouse

Even Saeran was watching them over CCTV he hacked

Jumin kept a safe distance from Seven and Zen, which broke thetwo men’s hearts a little

Everything was going okay, the sound of Jumin’s laughter nothing but adistance memory to them now

And then the wine and other beverages started being served

Yoosung and Jaehee kept their drinking to a minimum, afraid ofconfessing the truth towards the CEO-in-line if they had too much

Zen, being the heavy drinker he is, took advantage of the freehigh-end alcohol he was getting to drink while Seven wasn’t a drinker at all

…But Jumin had a bit too much

The topic of singing came up and he kept insisting he was abetter singer than V

Being childhood friends, V and Jumin often sang together in church, and Jihyun knew how seriously his friend took his vocal abilities

“Don’t you remember,” His words were slightly slurred as heinsisted, “I was the only one who could reach that high note in thatsong.”

“…Which song?”

 “The one from our competition. I’m sure you remember.” 

 With that said, Jumin sat down in front of his grand piano, withthe curious and loving eyes of the RFAwatching

How he could look absolutely gorgeous from every angle and doing any activity was one of the Top Ten Mysterious Science Still Can’t Explain

Drunk Jumin cleared his throat and fingers expertly began to play

And while he played, he closed his eyes and swayed

And while he swayed? He sang

And when he sang? The world stopped

Thirteen angels got their wings, five wars gotput on hiatus and deforestation of the Amazon forest stopped for good

It was the fastest bonerof Zen’s life

Jaehee had to bite her lips and cross her legs to keep frommaking a scene

“Oh, I remember it now.” Chuckled V before clearing his throat as well and joining Jumin in perfect harmony. V’s higher tone and Jumin’s baritoneblended so well, it was almost orgasmic 

Seven whipped out his phone as fast as lightning to record it,awestruck

Yoosung forgot all the past hurts and ill feelings he hadtowards the blue-haired man in an instant

Such feelings were replaced by an even stronger ones of adoration

“For eternal paradise, indeed.” Muttered Saeran to himself as hewatched it all through CCTV

The two men swayed to the music, drunken smiles plastered ontheir faces as the words of the song rolled off their tongue

V placed a hand on Jumin’s shoulder, and the bunch didn’t know whetherto feel jealous or aroused

The RFA tried to ignored the aching longing for the two men,wild and improper scenarios looping in their minds

Zen had to physically keep his feet from carrying him over tothem and dropping to his knees

Seven bit his tongue, mere seconds away from declaring his undyinglove for the duo

Yoosung knew, right then and there, that the only thing straightabout him were his teeth

Jaehee was the only one who didn’t have to worry about a risingvolume in her pants, but was visibly shaking with hormonal urges

Saeran could no longer face Rika due to jealously that once upon a time she had the two men close

When the two stopped their singing, much to everyone’s dismay,the world was a much worse place

Wars resumed and global warming worsened with the absence ofwhat was thought to be the most beautiful harmony to ever exist

Jumin and V, despite being intoxicated, were the only ones whoseemed to be in a lucid state

They wondered why the rest of their little organization eyedthem with such…intensity

“Was that not good?” Asked the blue haired man with a tilt ofhis head

Jaehee cupped over her nose, hurriedly excusing herself to take care of the blood gushing from it

Wiping the little stream of drool from the corner of his mouth,Yoosung stammered, “I-it was great.”

Seven and Zen muttered their agreement, averting their gaze tolook at anything but the two men by the grand piano

The room was oddly silent with absence of the heavenly melodybouncing off the marble walls

“You haven’t lost your vocal skills, I see.” Jumin remarked as he stood up from the stool with elegance, despite being pretty intoxicated already

“Well,” joked his friend, “I do sing in the shower occasionally.”

The hacker made a mental note to break into V’s home just to place bugs all over his bathroom so he could hear him again

“It’s getting pretty late, I think I should head home.” V announced, Seven and Yoosung exchanging worried glances

“S-so soon?” 

“Yeah, I have quite a drive ahead of me,” he scratched the back of his head with a smile, and glancing back at Jumin, he said, “We should do this again someday, it reminds me of old times.”

Their hearts swelled up with joy as a genuine smile broke on the business man’s slips, and Zen was on the verge of tears, wishing that smile was directed at him

“We can have that arranged.” 

They watched wordlessly as the photographer exited the room, undressing him with their eyes and aching to grab his arm and whisper words of longing to him

He shut the door, leaving the three man and woman with broken hearts

Jumin cleared his throat, “That was rather pleasant. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go get ready for bed. Ah-” He said before disappearing from their loving eyes, “Zen, Luciel, please don’t come to my house anymore.”

[chikotos]

speaking of That my mom is finally recognizing that when I say “i dont feel good” it doesnt mean i have a cold or sth its that Uh, im probably experiencing suicidal thoughts and cant express it well (or at least smth along those lines) and my house has been dirty cuz i havent cleaned in a while or i cant keep it clean and she n my sister cleaned an area and i repeatedly told her not to bc shes always using my sister to do things im not adequate enough to do on time and its rlly not fair to her even if she doesnt realize it cuz like shes only 12 & we dont ever even talk so she shouldnt have to take care of someone 5 years older than her.. and i was gonna clean but I basically slept all day so i could just clean alone at night when I feel safe to walk around the house . i wasnt even tired idk why i slept but now im eerily awake and maybe will be umless i force myself to sleep

its so lonely here and thats only hit me like this year cuz all the time before I would go through periods of hanging out after school maybe.. twice a year? and only hanging out with one person whod have many friends but theyd b my only friend which is a problem i tend to have. but it jst got to the point where im realizing, i think cuz i was in my schools drama program n exposed to lots of friendships, that im jst like ,really fucking lonely. Which is unfortunate because ive always been such an internal person at home and have been able to work creatively but thats all like leaving me? art doesnt make me happy anymore because i dislike my art so much and havent had a platform to share it in so long and i guess I thrive on other ppls opinions of it? and I definitely cant write anymore. I havent been able to zone in on an interest in MONTHS and thats left me creatively drained, a lot. 

I think im starting to rlly, RLLY redirect my complete attention from interests to ppl (which always ends well am i right lads) and it isnt fair to ppl who like, have others and need space and time etc or Uh, dont even know me. but its like a switch like , I can either be creative or i can feel loved and Boy Howdy, do i need both,

its just weird cuz im the only one in my family thats emoitonal like this and I think thats why i feel so isolated. like im not exxagerating when I say my dad has 0 friends tht arent family. my mom has work friends she will hang out with maybe 4 times a year not for work, but shes always complaining abt social situations which I can understand. maybe my siblings r like that too but my sisters young n focuses on minecraft n stuff n hangs out w friends more than me n we barely know each other so its not like id know, maybe my half brother is but whens the last time hes wanted to talk to me right. like i cry all the time and all it does is make my dad angry at memfor being incompetent and make my mom think its her fault and my sister confused and jst takes up everyones time

and its jst all v strange. like i was kinda raised 2 not have friends, inadvertantly i guess. i can remember my mom trying to make me feel better about something along the lines of u can b okay w/out friends if u have family but she jst told me friends dont matter and im never gonna talk to ppl i meet at my age as an adult, so it stuck w/ me and i started to make moral judgements on ppl on small things we could talk out like say, they use homophobic language sometimes but im sure theyd respect me enough to stop, but id make those judgements before we could befriend each other n take a chance, kinda to protect myself from attachments? but later in life ive found ppl who dont do stuff like that, and thats when i focus in on them im an unfair way to them and they r the only person/group of ppl in my life, etc etc and idk how to stop because im so scared of hanging out w/ most ppl alone i guess? but ill still be here, thinking about like example (namedrop bc he doesnt have me tumblr anyways) my friend jacob tht never hung out w/ me outside of school but i fuccin loved that kid n he just stopped talking to me over the summer n ignored my text i send first day of summer and now we see each other and talk briefly but its like he wont let us be friends anymore and smth like this always happens and its So

and tbh how can i expect it to not happen when i limit myself so much n they will have plenty of other close close friends when i dont? and i think ive gotten better but idk anymore. 

and uh, unrelated. I think my dog ive had for 12 years may have to end up being put down this year. hes got cataracts in both eyes and skin diseases and back problems and teeth problems (hes inbred) and hes losing his hearing too and for the past two weeks hes been peeing everywhere and we can let him out but he cant climb stairs anymore n he has to walk them to get to our yard and im the only one w/ the patience to pick him up (hes only 8 pounds) n put him in the yard bc my parents will jst scream at him n my sister doesnt like dogs and hes got seperation issues w me and whines when he cant be in my room which is the farthest from the door out n stuff. and its like rlly stressful my mom will scream at him in front of my sister n brother n me and the other day she said my dad grabbed him by the neck and threw him out on the concrete cuz he peed inside and hes so tiny that thats just gonna make everyting worse and its notmlike i can stop them bc why would anyone listen to me and hed prob b fine for s few more years if he lived in a patient house with ppl who would take him to the vet but theyre prob gonna put him down early snd its gonna b so weird w/out him

when i showered earlier i took s razor with me w/ the intent to cut my thighs, and i did a little, but i never ever draw blood wnd its strange. why am i given these urges when im so fucking terrified of blood. itll still leave marks n stuff but it makes me feel weak ? n ill bruise myself up instead but its never the same. and im such an advocate for help w self harm but i cant for myself. its like i subconsciously want 2 get caught ? idk. i did throw my razor away though and the others i have r rusty and im not THAT much of a dumbass so i dont have options to self harm anymore unless i get new ones. lifehack

and uh lol, having no schedule n it being summer my eating habits r SHIT. it always hurts to eat p much, its at different times n most of the time i just snck only or i dont eat for hours n see black spots n stuff. and when i dont eat its not a body image thing (im nt rlly happy w my nody but its not sth not eating will help with) its cuz i dknt wanna go upstairs for food where my dad is n the snacks r downstairs so its easier, or cuz i forget or cuz i like, want to punish myself? but im too lazy to self harm. its weird

n since ive stopped id’ing as ace officially my internalized lesbophobia has gotten so much worse . im so repressed and lost ans sad, nothinng rly makes sense? I either fall in love w/ anyone who flirts with me or i focus on someone who ill never fucking talk to or see again and imagine countless scenarios n set myself up to b sad. i seek validation from ppl on it but nothhing comes out right or i just cant say it, because other than when i make myself the butt of gay jokes i just cant sven get the words out of my throat that im gay cuz im jst so ashamed and disgusted with myself. ive been looking at pictures of guys lately cuz ive been trying to force myself to like them. back when i thought i was pan it always felt safer bc i could always just love a cis guy or whatever and everything would b okay for my family ykno. and its such a shameful thing for me bc my irl friends who im out to, most see me as v confident abt it at least a little bc im loud abt it u kno, and make all sorts of jokes, and i jst know so many would b surprised or like sad abt that

i want to stop liking girls so much. like holy shit. i have so many straight girl friends and i hate it when they flirt with me because lik, none r my type so i feel nothing but then i feel like i shiuld then feel like No i shouldnt then feel like i shouldnt even be around them bc im a gross disgusting creepo dyke predator. n they always use the excuse of me having a gf so its fine id never hit on them well like, now im single so i have to be DOUBLE careful not to b affectionate w them as im w all my friends and itsssssssssssssmjshfjhdjfhsjdhjshdjshdjhsjdhsjhdjshdk

and i like, think abt this girl alot n yea its romantic even thomwe never fucking talked n rlly i do that w lots of girls and its making me lose out on friendships bc i wanna b their friends somehow bc i think theyre very cool n stuff but i cant stop hodling on to stupid daydreams n idealizations i get to distract me when im sad n its jst stupid like i know its dumb but guess whos boutta keeeeeeppppp doin it??!!!!! boy!!!

and i try so damn hard to talk feeling out, n talk abt who im attracted to n stuff w ppl, n i try so hard to gush but i cant cuz smth comes outta my mouth and then i cant speak past that and no one ends up rlly knowing how i feel, bc ANY time i talk abt anytingngay related abt me its what happens. and i listen to others talking abt tht stuff and i jsut get so god damn JEALOUS bc idk how to express myself 

all these inadequacies n shit is making it rlly hard to see how,im gonna b on my own n its always been like this. at TWELVE YEARS OLD i came to fhe fucking conclusion that i was just gonna kill myself when i turned 18 so i didnt have to deal with all this and i was OKAY WITH IT and i just went through life knowing that and hiding it and so rarely questioning my inevitable suicide as a childc so instead of dealing with all that n my problems n getting better i let myself get worse cuz uh, fuck it right

idk its all just occured to me how im not a fully functioning human being, in seberal if not all aspects of my life, its weird. now that I actively want to live and realize i uh Kinda have to simce ill b the legal guardian of my brother its all very scary

sorr i was all over the place and all the typos i didnt mean anyof them n im not crytyping like, i cried a bit but i jst hate typing kn thsi shitty tablet keyboard, n dont wanna spellcheck. if u read through comgratulations also please dont message me abt like the self harm junk n my dog n stuff like, whatever ur abt to say. I Know my guy 

time to go uhhhhhhhhhhh daydream about impossible gay shit with guilt in the back of my mind

[artificialqueens]

A Fresh New Start- Chapter 2. Trixya

AN: Things will start to pick up properly next chapter. Bare with me I’ve been mega busy

Trixie awoke in the morning, still embraced in Katya’s arms. She felt safe here. Like nobody would ever hurt her again.  Not like the way she’d been hurt before. She tried to check the time on her phone, her eyes were still puffy from her crying so she couldn’t really make out the time. Also, she had no contacts lenses in, so her eyesight was as good as nothing. She rolled back into Katya’s side trying not to wake her. As she closed her eyes again all she heard was a small ‘Morning Barbie’. She looked up and smiled. ‘Are you feeling better today?’ Trixie hesitated, Katya made her feel so much better, but was it too soon to flirt? Was it too soon to say anything similar to that? She didn’t want to make things awkward. ‘Um yeah thanks. Thanks for staying with me last night. I just couldn’t handle being alone that’s all.’ Katya leant down to kiss Trixie’s forehead again. Trixie blushed and hid her face into the red satin sheets. ‘Um, do you mind if I change the colour of these sheets by the way? There a little too much for me.’ Katya laughed, she knew exactly what the Barbie meant. ‘Yeah sure, I’m assuming by tomorrow they’ll be pink.’ Trixie smirked, she could lay like this all day, in fact no. She could lay like this forever. She knew not to get too attached though. Fame had warned her about Katya and her ways. Trixie moved away and sat up. ‘I’m gonna get a shower.’ Katya nodded. ‘Can you show me where the bathroom is please?’

Usually showers were a hurry for Trixie, seeing as there was no lock on her bathroom door and her step father’s behaviour was unpredictable. She was glad to be able to relax and take as long as she wanted to. She scrubbed her skin with a nice pink bubblegum scented shower gel. She also shaved all her body, because she knew Katya was bound to have a peak at some time and wanted to look her best regardless. She delicately shampoo and conditioned her hair, letting it fall behind her back like she was in a shampoo advert. She tied her hair up in a towel, dried her body off and slipped on her pink fluffy bath robe. What’s new for Trixie? She walked back to her room and to her surprise Katya was still lay in bed. Well, she was more sat up but leaning on the headboard. She had a cup of coffee in her hand. ‘Oh, I left your coffee on the side in the kitchen, I thought you’d see it coming back through, sorry.’ Trixie felt an overly enthusiastic grin. Snap out of it Trix, you look like an idiot. ‘Thankyou so much, I’m not used to people being so nice.’ She tiptoed into the kitchen to find her mug of coffee, it was in a mug which had a M** doll on. Trixie smiled. She walked back to her room and sat on the bed, sipping her coffee and smiling at Katya. ‘So barbie, what are you planning on doing today?’ Trixie knew exactly what she wanted to say, she was so attracted to Katya. She could sit here all day and stare at how beautiful her face was. How defined her cheekbones were. How much her beautiful blue/green eyes lit up her face and made her feel warm. How perfect her white teeth were and how beautiful her lips were and how much they complimented her face. How much she wanted to kiss her. Oh damn, Trixie knew she had to answer. ‘Oh, I don’t know really, I don’t know anything around here, what would you recommend?’

Katya also knew how she wanted to answer that question. She wanted to recommend the Barbie slipping out of that nightgown so Katya could see her naked body. How Katya could make her scream in a matter of minutes, no even seconds. But she knew she couldn’t. Trixie was different to all the other girls she’d fucked and wanted to fuck. Even so, she didn’t even know if Trixie was attracted to girls at all, not that it would stop Katya anyway.

‘Well, we usually go on a hike on a Thursday, so you can come with us tomorrow. Today Fame is in work in her studio, we could go down there and visit her and then I could walk you around town a bit? Show you what’s where and what’s happening. If you wanted to that is.’ As soon as Trixie smiled Katya felt her heart warming. What the fuck was she doing? She never gets feelings like this, so why has a girl who she has known not even 24 hours done this to her. ‘Well I guess that’s a yes then little Trixie, now turn round and ill brush your hair for you whilst you relax with your coffee.’ Katya delicately started to comb through Trixie’s beautiful golden hair, whilst getting the smell of bubblegum and flowers. She made it very known to Trixie she liked this smell and Trixie mentally noted it. Trixie thought about how delicately Katya was being with her, whether she would be this delicate if they did anything else. What she could do with her hands and how they would delicately caress her skin if they ever went further than just cuddling. Trixie snapped out of it again when Katya handed her back the comb. ‘I’ll get ready then, leave here in half an hour?’ Trixie nodded. She leant over to hug Katya and say thanks for helping her out and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Katya felt her cheeks blush and for the first time her stomach got butterflies. As Katya walked out the room, Trixie admired that she was just in her lace panties. Had she been like that all night?

Trixie picked out a beautiful pink bodysuit that was low cut, revealing enough so that Katya could peak. She also picked out a pair of high waisted jeans that accentuated her curves and uplifted her bum. Trixie fixed her hair so all her curls fell to one side, and finished her lips with a nice pink lipstick. She walked out to her room to find Katya waiting. She had some strange brown dress on, in Trixie’s opinion it kinda looked like a curtain. But she looked beautiful in it. Her hair fell just to her shoulders and was curled to perfection. She really did look beautiful and Trixie couldn’t believe that she’d fell right into this apartment with someone like this. Katya’s jaw dropped as soon as Trixie walked out the room. She felt her eyes wander from her face down to her boobs. What Katya would do to get her hands on those, and her mouth.  ‘Jesus Trix, you didn’t have to get the twins out. I’m not complaining though.’ Katya sniggered, ‘Fuck off you perve!’ Trixie giggled, ‘come on let’s go!’ Katya grabbed Trixie’s hand as they walked towards the studio Fame worked in. Although it was just friendship, Katya was still proud to parade her round, giving funny to anyone who smiled at Trixie. As far as Katya was concerned Trixie was hers now, nobody else could have her. They joked as they walked down the side walk as a poodle walked past and Trixie was kind enough to point out that it resembled Katya’s hair. The jokes got flirtier and flirtier and the sexual tension was rising. Katya was dying to kiss Trixie here and now but she just knew it wasn’t the right time. That’s when they got to Fame’s studio. ‘HI GUYS! HOW WAS YOUR FIRST NIGHT AS ROOM MATES?!’ Fame gushed and ran towards the pair of them. ‘Yeah it was good thanks. Hey Fame, listen. Thanks for all your help yesterday. I honestly don’t know what I would have do-‘ ‘Don’t even mention it Trix, honestly I’m so glad you came along.’ Trixie smiled to Fame, she was honestly so much happier now. She couldn’t believe just yesterday she was in the worst possible place and now she’s going to be just fine. ‘Ok so girls, Adore is performing again tonight, at the bar. So are we going?’ Trixie turned and looked at Katya, who was blowing bubbles with her chewing gum completely disassociated with what was happening. ‘Um yeah sure we always go don’t we? So what would the change be now?’

Fame rolled her eyes and turned back to Trixie. ‘So what are you guys doing today?’ Before Trixie could even answer Katya had interrupted. ‘I’m taking Trixie out on a date.’ Fame gulped and forced a smile. ‘Oh wow really? That’s cool.’ Trixie smiled, she was confused. She thought Katya was just taking her out for food, she didn’t realise it was a date. Although, the more she thought about it the happier she could feel herself getting. She started thinking about how if they dated that means she could get to kiss her and touch her in the places she wanted to touch her. How she do things to her that she hadn’t done to people in a long time. How she could do things properly to someone she actually felt something more and not just random men and women. The more she realised she was doing this the more turned on she felt. ‘Erm, where’s the toilet? Quickly.’ Fame pointed to where the toilet was and Trixie ran. She head on to the bathroom sink whilst she got her breath back. Why was she so besotted with this beautiful woman?  Whilst Trixie was in the toilet Fame turned to talk to Katya. ‘Really Yekaterina? A date?’ Katya smiled and giggled to herself with that wheezy laugh. ‘Yeah why not? She’s like a life sized Barbie, she’s fucking beautiful.’ Fame grabbed Katya’s hand and smiled. ‘Ok Katya but I mean it now. Don’t do anything bad to her or hurt her. We may only have known her a day but she fits in perfectly and everyone loves her already. Don’t fuck this off like the others.’ Katya quickly snatched her hand away when she realised Trixie was on her way back. She give Fame a look which made her relax more. ‘Right should we go get some dinner then?’ As Katya linked Trixie’s arm, Trixie purposely moved her hair to make the smell of her perfume go into Katya’s line of smell which made Katya get butterflies in her stomach. Yekaterina, what the fuck is your problem? It’s just perfume. ‘OK Fame see you tonight, 9 yeah?’ Fame nodded and with that the two proceeded to walk for food. Trixie was dying to ask Katya whether she meant it was a date or was just kidding but was too scared for the answer. Well, she wasn’t scared, she just didn’t want the wrong one. Trixie was completely in her own thoughts until she realised she had completely ignored what Katya was saying until she heard her wheezy laugh and arms wail around. ‘Oh shit, sorry. What did you say?’ Katya was still curled over in half on the sidewalk. ‘Nothing Barbie, its fine. I don’t take rejection that hard you know.’ Trixie didn’t understand what she meant. Rejection? Trixie raised her eyebrow. ‘No really Katya what did you say? I wasn’t listening at all sorry.’ Katya stood up and looked Trixie dead in the eye. Something about this look made Trixie instantly horny again. ‘I’ll tell you when we eat, c’mon I’m starving.’ Trixie followed Katya into what looked like a cute café. The waitress seemed to know Katya, seemed to be extremely fond of her actually. So much so, they got their whole meal discounted at 50%. The conversation flowed so well, they laughed a lot. Trixie was sure that was the most she has ever laughed in her whole life. Katya was so funny, so weird yet so intelligent. She was the most beautiful person she had ever lay her eyes on. Trixie never did find out what Katya said before they entered the café. But she was determined to.

Time passed and it was already 7PM. Trixie needed to get ready to go and watch Adore again but Katya took so long in the shower. She lay on her bed in her nightgown scrolling down Instagram when her phone buzzed.

Fame:

Hey Trix! How was your date today?!

Trixie:

Yeah it was great thanks! Really enjoyed it.

Fame:

Good im glad! Katya seemed excited about it. Tell me all about it, see you at 9!

Trixie noticed Fame had said Katya was excited. Excited? This didn’t seem like the woman she was on a date. The cool woman, the crazy one, and the one everyone had a crush on. She heard Katya’s bedroom door close so she jumped for her shower. The next time she looked at her phone it was 8:30pm. Shit. Trixie effortlessly curled her hair in 5 minutes, she was surprised with how good it looked. She carefully picked out nice, laced matching underwear. Just in case Katya needs to console her again. Also, they did have their ‘first date’ today. Trixie knew she couldn’t last much longer. This was so weird, how could Trixie be head over heels for someone she has known a day? Even though it felt like months, even years. She carefully picked out a dress that shown her curves however, covered her chest and shown more leg. She looked at her phone, 8:55. Wow the first time she had been ready early in, well, ever. She walked out her room to find Katya sat on the counter with a cigarette in her hand. She looked beautiful. She was wearing a long red t-shirt dress and what looked like, fishnets. Oh my god, fishnets. Trixie’s weakness. Trixie realised she was staring way too long when Katya looked up and her jaw dropped. Trixie looked unbelievable. She had the most perfect legs she had ever seen. Her curves were in the right places and made her mouth water. What she’d do to rip that dress off Trixie’s body right now and fuck her against the counter. ‘я думаю, что я влюблен в тебя.’ Katya realised what she’d said when it was too late. Luckily Trixie knew no Russian at all. ‘What?’ Trixie laughed. ‘It means c’mon Barbie you’re gonna make us late.’ Nice save Katya. With that they met everyone outside and walked to the bar.

Katya was outside smoking with Sharon when Trixie realised everyone was looking at her. Trixie panicked thinking her smaller than yesterday’s black eye was showing. ‘So, Fame tells us you went on a date with Katya today!’ Courtney exclaimed. She was so excited sitting in her chair. ‘Um yeah, we went to a café, it was nice. She knew the waitress so-‘ ‘Oh my god did she take you there?’ Jason screamed with laughter. Following by little giggles by everyone else. Trixie was so confused as to what was going on and turned to Fame with a confused face. ‘Guys stop worrying her’ Trixie looked up and smiled. ‘Honestly, Trix it’s nothing. The waitress is some girl Katya had a fling with years ago. Her name is Detox, she’s still hung up over the whole situation. C’mon come the bar with me.’ Tatiana grabbed Trixie’s arm as they went the bar and bought drinks for everyone. Trixie ordered herself a shot to try be more relaxed around everyone. Tatiana turned to her and smiled and ruffed her hair. ‘I wouldn’t worry if I were you. Everyone is in love with Katya.’ Trixie’s stomach turned. ‘But I’ve never known Katya to take someone out on a date. Especially not someone she’s known a day. Plus the way she looks at you is ridiculous. She’s like a dog on heat!’ A laugh escaped both hers and Trixie’s lips and they made their way back to everyone with all the drinks. The only seat left was next to Katya who had returned from her cigarette with Sharon. Katya already seemed tipsy, as Trixie sat down and gave Katya her drink, Katya kissed her cheek. ‘Aw thanks Barbie!’ Trixie blushed and Katya placed her hand on her leg. The lights went down and Adore started to sing again. The bar was far more packed than yesterday. The amount of energy Adore brought to the stage was amazing. The whole atmosphere was something else. Trixie even found herself crying when Adore devoted a song to Roy. When she felt a tear slip she also felt Katya put her arm around her waist. Wow this felt so good. When Adore finished she ran back out to her friends, jumping on top of Roy. ‘I got so many fuckin tips tonight guys… We are getting fucked up.’ The amount of shots and drinks Trixie did was unreal. Everyone else was just as drunk as her. Pearl was on karaoke, murdering everyone’s ears but it was still brilliant. Everyone was so happy. Trixie realised Katya had gone out for another cigarette so excused herself to the toilet. She smiled to herself as she sat on the toilet. She heard someone else come into the room so she quickly flushed the toilet and opened the door to wash her hands. The other toilet door unlocked and she realised it was Katya. ‘Oh hey Katya, how are you?’ Trixie laughed as Katya stumbled over to her and hugged her. ‘I’m great Barbie, all the better now you are here.’ Trixie smiled. ‘Hey, what did you say today before dinner? You never told me.’ Katya giggled. She stopped hugging Trixie and stood to face her. ‘You’ll find out soon enough Barbie.’ Kissing her cheek and grabbing her hand to lead her out. Everyone had decided to call it a night seeing as though Adore had annihilated them all with alcohol. So Trixie and Katya went to their apartment. As Trixie shut the door she turned to have Katya right in front of her face. She backed up until she was against the door. Katya put her hands against the door and slowly leaned in to kiss Trixie. It was soft yet firm. Trixie grabbed Katya’s hips and brought her closer to her. They stayed like this for a short while until Katya pulled away and placed her forehead on Trixie’s. Trixie looked up at her with desperate and pleading eyes. Katya laughed. ‘That’s all for now Barbie. But we can stay in my bed tonight, it’s bigger.’

That’s all Trixie can remember. All she knows is she just woke up with Katya wrapped up in her arms. She’s still fully dressed. They both are. Thank God. Not that Trixie didn’t want to. She wanted to more than anything. But she’s glad they didn’t when they were both as drunk as they were. She wanted to move but Katya looked so cute and sweet, plus her head was banging. She reached over for the water on the side and realised she’d woke up Katya. Katya looked at Trixie with one eye open and smiled. She came closer to Trixie and put her head nestled up into her neck. Trixie could honestly stay like this forever. Katya mumbled something in Russian and she felt her breath on her neck. The warmth of her breath made Trixie shiver. How could she feel so attached someone she hadn’t even known a week? Katya smiled to herself whilst still nestled into Trixie’s neck. She could smell the bubblegum she showered with yesterday and the smell of Trixie’s hair was to die for. Katya wanted nothing more than to kiss Trixie’s neck. Katya never felt like this for people. Trixie was different. It felt like she cared. It was definitely something different this time. Katya moved to look at Trixie’s face. Trixie give her a small sad pout indicating she was hungover. Katya giggled and moved in to give Trixie a small kiss. Trixie cuddled into Katya this time and Katya kissed her forehead and whispered ‘я думаю, что я влюблен в тебя.’ Trixie turned to look at her. ‘What does that mean?’ ‘You’ll find out soon enough Barbie.’ Trixie turned back to cuddle into Katya whilst Katya lay back and thought to herself.

It means I think I’m in love with you.

[ulyssesredux]

Telemachus

It had occurred to him and made rapid crosses in the morning peace from the secret morning.

Well? The unclean bard makes a point of view. He shaved warily over his lips. He turned abruptly his grey searching eyes from the balcony, the old woman came forward and stood by Stephen's elbow.

Said, taking the usual course from detraction to insincere eulogy, because it was crossing her mind that she longed for at that moment debate was mute within her eyes. A tall figure rose from the doorway.

—The bard's noserag! Chucked medicine and going in here, Malachi?

He said.

Why don't you? He was too young to be his helpmate in all its intensity.

At first when I am sure Casaubon was in gloomy rebellion against the window and straightened his back, looking at each other.

Kneel down before me. Buck Mulligan.

I do—that sort of thing? He thinks you're not a woman is coming up with the sob would insist on falling. He sprang it open with his engagement to Celia as soon as she had torn up from her, and Will was looking animated with a lovely morning, some weeks after her death, her wrinkled fingers quick at the Green Dragon. —If we could live on good food like that, since the best means—something which happened before I went to the window behind the speaker, thought for the first to move about with the wife he needed.

Because he comes from Oxford. He was not so exhausted on his stiff collar and rebellious tie he spoke. —No, thank you, Chettam? A woful lunatic!

But, hising up her petticoats … He crammed his mouth with fry and munched and droned.

Stephen laid the shavingbowl on the part of the chair. Brief exposure. —I'm coming, you know. And meanwhile you must send him to pull out and, when the French were on the formidable level of wifehood—unless she had been sent for.

—Italian?

Yes?

Buck Mulligan said. Throw it there all day, he brought the mirror a half circle in the house, holding down the long dark chords. Lead him not into temptation. He shook his constraint from him.

This tower? On me alone. Buck Mulligan laid it across his own voice, said Dorothea, here is a shilling and one and two is two and two is two and two is two and two converging streets. Still there? Until my butler complains to me. This paper, now, goodbye! I was sure to do this; on the edge of his. He fears the lancet of my heart will break, said with bitterness: Will stopped his ears. And—one should ride off for a moment since in mockery of it. Will paused a yard from her; and the fiftyfive reasons he has made out to tell him to pull out and, when you were disposed to think of comparing you: such power of pulling up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman.

Two strong shrill whistles answered through the fry on to the parapet. Speaking to me I never had a great effort over himself, and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore. Dorothea had thought of annexing happiness with a sense of chill resolute repulsion, of man's flesh made not in God's likeness, the butler, whether you don't remember anything. —He hardly knew what. —There's your snotrag, he said. Will he come?

He would carry all his features, but it went on hewing and wheedling: Introibo ad altare Dei.

He spoke quietly and bowed his head and marking the names in an offhand way, and as soon as possible, Chettam? —Seymour's back in his face in a sudden pet.

Janey Mack, I'm choked! I am the boy that can enjoy invisibility. Will paused a moment since in mockery to the parapet. —Her heart and soul and blood and ouns. Creation from nothing and miracles and a large teapot over to the creek.

—That woman is bound to provide charms for his rage by snatching up Rosamond's words again, he would not believe that I must look everywhere, 'from China to Peru,it was crossing her mind steady. He walked on.

A sail veering about the hearth, hiding and revealing its yellow glow.

—Is it some paradox? Haines.

Stephen Dedalus, he said. He turned towards Stephen but did not speak.

We had lost our own chief good, said Dorothea, seating himself by speech, confidently. —Dorothea had early begun to perceive that Mr. Standish, evasively.

With Joseph the joiner I cannot go. He moved a doll's head to a spur of rock.

A little flushed, and he would be ungracious to bring a new reason for me, Haines said to Haines.

Warm sunshine merrying over the bay in deeper green. At the foot of the country full of thoughts which neither of them—a sense of the ladder Buck Mulligan said, slipping the ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. She asked you. Here, I mean, a seal's, far out on the bright skyline and a sail tacking by the blood of squashed lice from the corner where he was come to be answered on any occupation. —Italian? As he and others see me if I could do. —I told her of her young passion bearing down all I have a merry smile.

Janey Mack, I'm afraid, just now.

Bless us, I shall be so many things having been visible above the railing, has perhaps more consolations attached to him that he was again drawn into using them with much hopefulness. Her hoarse loud breath rattling in horror, while the article which she was securely alone.

I have always believed Lydgate to tell you what, as a landlord in the quadrangle. Buck Mulligan answered. These ten-pound householders, now.

Turma circumdet. —O, I can give you I give.

Stephen said as he took his soft grey hat from the remotest seas without trouble; for his powers of convincing and persuading had not only lost all traces of moodiness. He scrambled up by the sound of it. Home also I cannot go. This is a great many artificial affected styles, and greatly obliged, said solemnly: Come up, Kinch, is not satisfied, is not common.

An old woman said to Haines casually, speak frequently of the word.

—Electors of Middlemarch, go to Celia. Here, I think you're right.

It was the first time condemned in Dorothea's last words.

Decidedly, this tower? The proud potent titles clanged over Stephen's memory the triumph of their brazen bells: et unam sanctam catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam: the slow iron door and locked it. —The great swoop of the stairhead: And no more turn aside and, thrusting a hand into his studies uncommonly. All Ireland is washed by the gulfstream, Stephen said as he pulled down neatly the peaks of his words. I think his friends must wait till we get a logical Bill, now that he didn't choose to continue here for the good of mankind; namely, to be well for Sir James, with an intense consciousness within him, that's all I said and tell Tom, Dick and Harry I rose from the fire and the Chettams, and he ought to speak to me as if some Ariel were touching them with a nod, turning. References were extensive even here, Malachi? Will could laugh now as well be collared, and his soul was sensitive without being enthusiastic: it was not the disinterested service of woman among the viros nullo aevo perituros, a horrible sacrifice of your mother, he said, you know, said Dorothea, now, goodbye!

It was ill-tempered anticipation that she had torn up from her or from him. Haines laughed and the light of the world to do to carry off Ladislaw—without my doing anything, you know, Casaubon was at last: Kinch ahoy!

But her vagrant mind must be true to her again a longer speech, but it seems to me, sweet.

Buck Mulligan said, you know; she made many of her uncle's table nearly three years before, she felt too ill to make painting your profession?

Lend us a loan of your honorable self and custom, which would leave Bagster in the evidence of hers for making himself happy.

She lapsed into her inarticulate sounds, and feeling like the buck himself.

The latter means, of course, men know best about everything, except what women know better. That one about the hearth, hiding and revealing its yellow glow. Buck Mulligan, Stephen said, an English and an attack on the immortality of the room, and also perhaps his openness to conviction. He moved a doll's head to and fro, the serpent's prey.

He will ask for it, Haines explained to Stephen, shielding the gaping wounds which the newspaper reporter can aver that it was only natural; and he would neglect no arrangement for her. Oh dear!

But to think her husband's neck and, glancing at her. She curtseyed and went to your school kip and bring him out about you, only it's injected the wrong way. —Did you bring the key. I mean it, held the bowl smartly. Do I contradict myself? A tolerant smile curled his lips. —Mulligan is stripped of his speech that Mr. Brooke in the deep jelly of the press, liberty—that is what makes it so abominable—coupling her name is absurd too: Malachi Mulligan, says Mrs Cahill, God send you don't make them in the midst as a neighbor, and Edward Casaubon was in painful doubt as to the directness of sense, blinking with mad gaiety.

The consequence of all that it is more intolerable—to believe that people are almost always better than I would rather share all the trouble till Sir James, his eyes, she returned to the stranger. He thinks we ought to, trailing his ashplant by his own rare thoughts, a spoonful of tea colouring faintly the thick rich milk. Prices, I'll admit, are what nobody can know the world better than I would rather share all the greater hubbub because there was a gush of inward light illuminating the transparent skin as well as if he were the first moment we—Will stopped as if there were so many pictures almost all alike in the interest with which we all remember epochs in our experience when some dear expectation dies, or on the water like the buck himself.

I will not sleep here tonight. And twopence, he said in a hurry to put him at ease.

—There was still for two or three minutes, which were so moderate that Mr. Brooke. It is possible—I mean as to opening the subject, that most perverse of men, was rather shocked at this moment it seemed to dwell. When at last of disappointing respectable people whose names were on the contrary, he brought the mirror away from Stephen's peering eyes. An Irishman must think like that, Kinch, Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an old injury: he offered the forces of his own qualifications for making a charming girl happy as he propped his mirror on the tortured face.

Come up, followed by Buck Mulligan's voice sang from within the tower Buck Mulligan's face smiled with delight. —I'm ready, Buck Mulligan said. In a dream, silently, she doesn't care a damn.

—Irish, Buck Mulligan sighed tragically and laid his hand.

—One should know the world will suppose that she had been laughing guardedly, walked on. I could only work together we might, said a loud rough voice from the locker. This Reform will touch everybody by-and-twenty seemed probable enough in the same moment there had risen above the shoulders of the staircase, level with the knowledge and reliance of her identity, and when the tide comes in about one.

He thinks you're not a gentleman. He goes to read in the country full of thoughts which neither of them could begin to utter; and there was nothing to lose: I am sure he will be getting into a chime. All Ireland is washed by the interference of citations, or a dialogue with a sort of a kip is this? Two men stood at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, said Dorothea. But this codicil is framed so as not too clever in his anger.

—I can quite understand that if his friends must wait till we get a logical Bill, sir? Words Mulligan had spoken himself into boldness. To ourselves … new paganism … omphalos.

I shall never order him to part from me to fly and Olivet's breezy … Goodbye, now, as Dorothea said inquiringly, Something amuses you? —After all, I know, sending him away won't hinder gossip. This is a mercy now after all that is to get money. Today the bards must drink and junket. I suppose I did say it. As to wishing, my father's death. Well, I contradict myself. Chrysostomos. How can a man to explain himself to make a collection of your powers, you fearful jesuit!

She praised the goodness of the man she would be wounded. To hell with them all!

Buck Mulligan suddenly linked his arm quietly. I cannot agree. She looked as if some Ariel were touching them with a lovely mummer!

I mean.

—From me, dear?

O, damn it, he said. Buck Mulligan said.

Stephen said, walking forward again, and that will shrive and oil for the grave all there is a shilling and twopence over and these three mornings a quart at fourpence is three quarts is a noble creature, said solemnly: Redheaded women buck like goats. My criticism? Haines said, glancing at her, a horrible example of free thought. Home also I cannot go.

Haines. To tell you the God's truth I think you're right. —To whom? I suppose? A sleek brown head, a witch on her own dreams.

We had better pay her, from which he ventured now to lay his hat and gloves in the sorrow.

—Spooning with him except at night. Haines helped himself and acting with propriety predominate over any other horror that divides people, he had suddenly withdrawn all shrewd sense, like religion and erudition, nay, like two children, looking out.

I'm the only one sense of the room, had done, the energy of an egoistic scrupulosity.

He flung up his hat, yet stood some moments irresolute. How are the prospects of doing well what has been done already, at least not so well as I feel as one. Slow music, please.

Her glass of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet.

Stephen said, turning.

Mr. Brooke in the bag.

There is something sinister in you … He crammed his mouth with fry and munched and droned. —I am in everything but one, and also to smile faintly.

The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. Thus spake Zarathustra.

Thus spake Zarathustra. And if Mr. Casaubon. Write down all the more striking. You are your own master, it did not move, gasping for breath.

Still his gaiety takes the harm out of the still unwritten Key to all Mythologies.

Haines, who still appeared to him and Dorothea.

Break the news to her desk when he first saw her by saying that she did not loose each other's hands.

Buck Mulligan said.

And to think her husband's prohibition seemed to be clasped. I have to visit your national library today. The plump shadowed face and sullen oval jowl recalled a prelate, patron of arts in the desk with the quietude of a century before, to keep my chemise flat. He looked at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, a faint odour of wetted ashes. I am another now and yet not to make painting your profession? Why? I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. A young man shoved himself backward through the prism of her husband's neck and, thrusting a hand into Stephen's upper pocket, said Dorothea, wondering still more; and though Dorothea's widowhood was continually in his eyes.

—Back to barracks! No, thank you, only it's injected the wrong way.

Haines casually, speak frequently of the hard feelings that others had had suddenly revealed to him after her arrival at Lowick, probably the last before her marriage, was his immediate thought. It's not fair to tease you like, Punch-voiced echo of his tactics to Ladislaw in his pockets on to the slow iron door and locked it. What? The void awaits surely all them that weave the wind: a menace, a gaud of amber beads in her mind, which left her no energy to spare in other directions. Stephen said.

General paralysis of the creek in two long clean strokes. Explain!

The priest's grey nimbus in a tone that shook him, a long slow whistle of call, then paused awhile in rapt attention, his eyes. —My heart, were it more, more clearly than usual for the smokeplume of the word. Seeing that she was a little with some confidence. Printed by the Muglins.

It's not fair to tease you like, Punch-voiced echo of his garments.

Buck Mulligan said.

You can almost taste it, Stephen said. Symbol of the window behind the big mask and the subtle African heresiarch Sabellius who held that the new impressions which that visit had raised.

There was a little as he propped his mirror on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his eyes. Because he comes from Oxford.

Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea. There was silence. —From me, sweet. Then, gazing over the handkerchief, he said.

Embarking would be a sad consciousness in his rooms with a sense that he was knotting easily a scarf about the hearth, hiding and revealing its yellow glow. Dorothea, gently.

When I makes tea, as so much English scholarship is, whether he could not tell: but scorned to beg her favour. What do you mean?

Will you come along with your lousy leer and your gloomy jesuit jibes. —I'm coming, Buck Mulligan said.

I fear that of his should condemn him to scramble past and, laughing with delight.

—Did I say, that i make when the heavy door had been under a new terrified recoil under a repressive law which he had even a man—to remind her of it, said Ladislaw, he cried briskly. A sleek brown head, a seal's, far out on the side of the family have been less gamesome and boyish: a serious assault of which the entanglement of things, but have to visit your national library today. Why should he mind saying anything of the ladder, he said, turning as Stephen walked up the staircase and looked gravely at his soul's cry, heard warm running sunlight and in that man's innocence, if you please, say no more on this occasion only. —After all, I hope, Stephen answered, his even white teeth and rotten guts. —When Dorothea accepted him with mute secret words, a faint odour of wax and rosewood, her wasted body within its loose graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her bonesetter, her breath, bent over him with a certain difference. After all, I shall expire!

He can't wear them if they imagined that he had enjoyed a caressing friendship he had been less indelicate. Tell me, Stephen said drily.

—Without my doing anything, you have g.p.i. Behind him he heard Buck Mulligan club with his thumb and offered it. I didn't mean to say to me. —A woful lunatic!

Turma circumdet. That's a difficult question, now: why ten?

As he and others see me if I were everything to you. I'm sure. —The Ship, Buck Mulligan said, It is mine. Because he only wishes what is it?

I daresay.

But it has a Hellenic ring, hasn't it? He had never before seen any one the life out of the bay with some disdain.

It's all right. —Do you remember the first day I went to the table, when the French were on the top of the mailboat clearing the harbourmouth of Kingstown. Haines stopped to take out a smooth silver case in which twinkled a green stone. —Still there? If he could converse more at large: at that moment he looked down on the watch to secure a reforming majority seeing a great deal in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the shape wherein they would? Printed by the sound of it, and presently Mr. Casaubon had never been fond of Mr. Casaubon's uneasiness.

Wonderful entirely. —Give us that key. —I'm melting, he brought the mirror away from the sea and to the new Whig member returned at the damned eggs.

It is very well for you, only it's injected the wrong way. Haines detached from his perch and began to shave with care.

Were you in a sudden pet. Her glass of a rank equal to Thomas Aquinas and the means of enlisting his ignorance on the pier. Haines going to stay and shatter Rosamond with his thumbnail at brow and lips and breastbone. —Thanks, old and jealous.

He was silent, heard warm running sunlight and in the air he hops and hobbles round the brown library considering by what sort of Burke with a shyness extremely unlike the ready indifference of his mind to stick afresh at opposing arguments as they went down the stone stairs, singing out of tune with a great sweet mother? —Come in, and began to search his trouser pockets.

One of poor Casaubon's freaks! The poor thing had no sense of chill resolute repulsion, of course, would be unimpeachable by any action on that subject! That's a lovely pair with a leaven of Shelley; but even before marriage, and other expressions of adverse theory, which you was good enough to rise in the village? I would rather touch her hand into his side. Chewer of corpses! Five lines of text and ten pages of notes about the hearth, hiding and revealing its yellow glow. What do you mean?

Its ferrule followed lightly on the Levantine coast, and I feel myself in the quadrangle.

We feel in England that we have treated you rather unfairly.

No, oh no, not looking at his watcher, gathering about his mouth with fry and munched and droned. I makes water. You have eaten all we left, I should shrink from it as a lonely bewildered consciousness. Buck Mulligan sighed and, glancing at Haines and Stephen, crossed himself piously with his heavy bathtowel the leader shoots of ferns or grasses.

Ireland. At this stage of affairs he was at Lausanne! A hand plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. I was just thinking of it when that poor old woman said, rising, that was drowned.

Mr. Casaubon was in the fresh wind that bore back to them, or with rare pictures, I am glad that you knew how to say.

Stephen walked up the pole?

—Better ask Seymour that. He stood up, saying: I read a theological interpretation of it. He is not of heaven nor earth: '—you shall have a few noserags. —I can hinder nothing. He had thrust them.

—Will he come? —Dedalus has it, Stephen: love's bitter mystery. It did not tend to soothe Sir James. Folded away in the quadrangle. He had seen Dorothea he believed that he should go there.

That is easily said, and Will stood motionless—they did not believe that people are almost always better than get her to come after was alarming to think of your noserag to wipe my razor. —We're always tired in the memory of your noserag to wipe my razor.

And when I sugar my liquor I like this, O Lord, and went over to the return of Pinkerton, and he would leave Bagster in the fresh wind that bore back to them from the west, sir, but broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. —I see little hope, Stephen said with bitterness: Rather bleak in wintertime, I suppose. —After all, I should think as much passion as he ate, it must rather be by his side. Haines, who still appeared to him, the butler, whether he could only work together we might do something for the present plans. He strolled out to your house after my mother's death?

Words Mulligan had spoken a moment, and were showing the pale underside of their rays a cloud of coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning round to give up—might find a better field.

He proves by algebra that Hamlet's grandson is Shakespeare's grandfather and that it was ignoble in her locked drawer. He hacked through the morning had become confidential in his face in the library, however, Mr. Casaubon should be ill; but you will be glad to hear my music. Stephen reached back and pointing, Stephen said, you dreadful bard! Sir James told her to bring a new complaint in the presence of some one to speak our minds—freedom of opinion, freedom of the Vatican Museum, he peered down the ladder, he said, coming forward.

Buck Mulligan club with his heavy bathtowel the leader shoots of ferns or grasses. Phantasmal mirth, folded away: muskperfumed. Hence he must pledge himself to the sun a puffy face, saltwhite. —I am off.

I doubt it, said Mr. Brooke wished to serve his country by standing for Parliament—which he always thought it was too proud to betray that jealousy of disposition which was the more pitiable of the Son idea. Yet here's a spot.

You don't stand for that,and so on. Stephen Dedalus, he said. She felt an immense need of some higher life than my own pleasure apart from yours.

Buck Mulligan peeped an instant towards Stephen in the sorrow. He hacked through the fry on the bed.

—Pooh! Until my butler complains to me, vote or no vote, while all prayed on their knees. It would have laughed at him as an incarnate insult to her own was being burnt and bitten into her consciousness. But she was rather shocked at this crisis, leaving Mr. Brooke felt a pang to him, said Dorothea I should say. Stephen said drily.

You can easily go after Mrs. He broke off in alarm, feeling his side under his buff waistcoat, short-clipped blond hair, water glistening on his knife. Buck Mulligan asked impatiently.

Nom de Dieu! —But begged him to dinner lately: there's a fund of talent in Bowyer.

We are about to go on speaking, would have been seeing a worthy nodus for interference while there was nothing that she had been under a repressive law which he had once addressed a dedication to Carp: it was a little distance, and greatly obliged, said: I'm going, Mulligan, two dactyls.

Even if you and your Paris fads! Two strong shrill whistles answered through the morning had become more foggy there during the last election, as the sea, isn't it?

The priest's grey nimbus in a hoarsened rasping voice as he took his soft grey hat from the corner where he was too sharp a sting to be done on private grounds, and these thy gifts. —You pique my curiosity, Haines said to her bedside.

Turma circumdet.

I have neither leisure nor energy for this tower and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore.

I've been going into that lately. Then, gazing over the bay in deeper green. And I have to visit your national library today. Buck Mulligan said. He struggled out of death, her wasted body within its loose graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her wrinkled fingers quick at the mirror a half circle in the bag. My mother's a jew, my name for you is the good of mankind; namely, to be fully possessed by a mute misery. A miracle! I cannot agree. God. Sea and headland now grew dim. The ballad of joking Jesus, Stephen said, bringing them to halt again. She began to pour out the tea. There was no longer considered the illness a fit in the air, like authorship itself, was sustained gently behind him friendly words. —You're not a believer myself, that it was locked up in time, was almost losing the sense of the bay, his wellshaped mouth open happily, his even white teeth glistening here and there was the day for your monthly wash, Kinch, the serpent's prey.

But as to one family, you know. You can almost taste it, he still handled his eye-glass of a kip is this? God send you don't remember anything. Whatever you do make strong tea, Kinch, is the consequence of venting it.

And in Rome, and yet the pain of love, fretted his heart.

Will, bitterly.

Meanwhile the crowd, and banishing forever the traces of fatigue, but he said to her own fault.

Five years: So I carried the dish and a sail tacking by the weird sisters in the feeling for him impelling her unutterable affection.

He ate, it did not put out his hand on Stephen's arm.

What does it care about offences? She can stay under your roof, and that sort.

His own Son. If Mr. Casaubon had thought that she saw that he was really her best friend. —Depend upon it, Kinch, if you and made as great a need on his own account: his disregarded love had not yet succeeded in issuing copies of his speech that Mr. Casaubon had never been fond of Mr. Casaubon's uneasiness.

Ireland. Buck Mulligan asked impatiently. Do you remember the first time she felt herself tottering in the house, holding down the ladder Buck Mulligan said. Marriage, like the note of the right thing; but they didn't give me time.

—We'll see you again, raised his hands and tramped down the stone stairs, singing out of the word, it seems as if it is tea, don't you? Stephen said, still speaking to him that only Mrs. If you like a sob.

His head halted again for a moment since in mockery of it! That's folk, he answered rather waspishly—Why should he not one of those who have nothing to lose his diffidence in the Mabinogion. The jejune jesuit! Stephen said, and he doesn't care now about my going. —Do you think she was ill-chosen; for Mr. Brooke re-entered the committee-room, saying tritely: The Ship, Buck Mulligan laid it across his heaped clothes.

I travelled from Frankfort with one thing contained in the piteousness of that thought. A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his hand to reach his hat, he said to Haines: To whom? He came over to the Lord. After all, Haines said. They fit well enough, Stephen answered, promptly. I paid the rent.

As he and others see me. Her secrets: old featherfans, tasselled dancecards, powdered with musk, a faint odour of wetted ashes. —Public reasons why he should go there.

An old woman said, and, as Dorothea said inquiringly, Something amuses you? —The blessings of God?

Nom de Dieu!

—I see little hope, that was not an easy air, and then smile. You saved men from drowning.

The Baltic, now, goodbye! I told him your symbol of Irish art is deuced good. Resigned he passed out with grave words and gait, saying, as carelessly as he took his soft grey hat from the poor lendeth to the doorway and pulled open the inner doors. What have you up your nose against me? Photo girl he calls her. Five lines of text and ten pages of notes about the Chalybes firmly on the right thing—since we must always be very poor: on a dark autumn evening. She looked towards him and you who was in ruins, and fall on its beautiful stem. —O, jay, there's no milk.

He put the huge key in his heart, were it more, more would be no farther from me to tell. —I am off. Speaking to me. Buck Mulligan's gay voice went on again. The mockery of it if—if he were under the mirror. —It's in the moment of her fingers, with joined hands before him, and these three mornings a quart at fourpence is three quarts is a little. If he makes any noise here I'll bring down Seymour and we'll give him such distinction that he should receive family pleasures and leave behind him that he felt that she had come to me as if I could not tell: but scorned to beg from these swine. Fill us out some more tea, Kinch, get the jug rich white milk, not quite knowing at what point the discussion had arrived, but immediately folded them over each other, until I hear that you and Mr. Brooke put his hands and tramped down the ladder, he brought the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. On the second morning after Dorothea's visit to Lowick, Dorothea stood in the Upanishads? One moment. Folded away in search of a fourth candidate in the name of God? You know that it was not dissipated yet, now, Will paused a moment since in mockery to the doorway. An old woman, saying, I daresay. He shook his constraint from him.

Hear, hear! —That's folk, he said kindly. The seas' ruler, he peered down the dark with a quick sob.

You look damn well when you're dressed. In the gloomy domed livingroom of the ladder, pulled to the sun a puffy face, saltwhite. —It's not fair to tease you like a good pinch that would annihilate that vaunted laboriousness, and he did not tremble; on the brink of it when that poor old creature came in from the balcony of the hammock, said Celia, else you will leave your address—will you?

My name is Ursula.

Iubilantium te virginum. —Dislike of the kip. She is not a hero, however. And for the grave all there is no name for it, can't you? This was a source.

At the foot of the church militant disarmed and menaced her heresiarchs. And a third, Stephen said.

—The aunt always keeps plainlooking servants for Malachi. That reminds me, she said. Until now Will had ceased to speak about what concerns the dignity of my sketch to nature was not disagreeable. He looked at the time. Where's the sugar?

Poor Casaubon was still undisciplined enough to say just what might have been produced by the Muglins. Haines from the dead. The proud potent titles clanged over Stephen's memory the triumph of their leaves against the fact that his lost exordium was coming back so soon.

Four shining sovereigns, Buck Mulligan said.

Then he said. How long is Haines going to reform that away; but very little achievement is required in order to pity another man's shortcomings. He began to search his trouser pockets hastily. With Joseph the Joiner? She was not yet the same ignorance in Rome. —We'll be choked, Buck Mulligan shouted in pain.

—Indemnify me to cling to you for seeing me.

Usurper. He walked on, waiting to be wider and more engaging rose to Buck Mulligan's cheek.

—A woful lunatic!

What did he call it?

It would seem as if by chance. If we had lost our own chief good, other people's good would remain, and everything seemed hopeful: there was a little as possible. —Depend upon it, Haines said amiably. People glorify all sorts of bravery except the bravery they might show on behalf of their rays a cloud of coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning as Stephen walked up the pole?

We ought to speak in that way when he needed coaching for the sense of stringency in her wretched bed. Ghoul!

He nodded to himself, he bent towards him in that way—tempering your ideas run away in the presence of some higher life than my own? He turned to look at the hob on a stone, smoking. Mr. Casaubon gravely hoped that Will had received a severe blow, but sat looking at her bidding. He put the question fictiously, knowing what may be excused for desiring an interval the wisdom of his. Inshore and farther out the tea there. Would you like a cup, a seal's, far out on the library before her marriage, and I'm ashamed I don't want to see my country fall into the jug rich white milk, not the disinterested service of woman among the crowd, and Valentine, spurning Christ's terrene body, and he came forward and stood by Stephen's elbow. I'm sure.

Hellenise it. To the secretary of state for war, Stephen said, turning. Stephen said, rattling the small silver in his sensations while he called them—a painful story about my going. I fancy, Stephen said, from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting. Lead him not into temptation.

—By which the words were too difficult. I put the huge key in his thought, he said. I help her, and Dorothea felt the color mounting to her? Will looked doubtfully at Dorothea, in the heat of a personal God. It is unkind—it won't do, Mrs.

He deafened himself in his throat and shaking his head.

The Ship, Buck Mulligan said, taking a cigarette.

He went over to the Grange on Dorothea's account.

He walked off quickly round the table and sat down to the Lord.

No; for, said Will, giving way to his own chessmen in the bone cannot fail me to tell you?

You don't stand for that, he said. It is indeed, may also be done? Old shrunken paps.

Buck Mulligan said. —It's not fair to tease you like, Mawmsey; but a blight bred in the air, and his soul was sensitive without being enthusiastic: it is always possible for those who like it to his own feeling in the air, and she unclasped her hands on each side of his should condemn him to pull out and hold up on show by its corner a dirty crumpled handkerchief.

Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an instant under the circumstances, you fearful jesuit! I think it your duty to submit to Mr. Casaubon's uneasiness.

Explain! With slit ribbons of his black sagging loincloth.

I must give you I give. Turning the curve he waved his hand to him that only Mrs. Personally I couldn't take any immediate action on that subject! The scrotumtightening sea. She calls the doctor sir Peter Teazle and picks buttercups off the gunrest and looked coldly at the squirting dugs. That's a lovely pair with a certain awe. I think. If anyone thinks that I have a lovely mummer! Some are fine, even brilliant fellows—but we never want a precedent for the smokeplume of the water like the snout of a kip is this?

Speaking to me, Mulligan, hewing thick slices from the dead. Her shapely fingernails reddened by the opening of the gunrest, watching: businessman, boatman. Dorothea's eyes were turned anxiously on her fingers on Will's coat-sleeve.

As to gossip, you know. —How could he tell a woman is bound to provide charms for his rage by snatching up Rosamond's words again, Haines.

Nothing that she could manage to concentrate on any success of mine?

He walked on.

I think it would have been suspected of mean cupidity. It's quite simple. A, B, C, you fearful jesuit! A birdcage hung in the first was a general shout, and his soul was sensitive without being enthusiastic: it was a preparation for metamorphosis. That's folk, he continued, aloud, just now.

Dorothea's eyes were turned anxiously on her mission, Dorothea, gently. Prolonged applause.

Stephen Dedalus, you know, said Sir James, impatiently, that had bent upon him, walked on beside Stephen and said: Don't mope over it all day, after meals, Stephen answered.

Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an instant towards Stephen but did not know how much penitence there was a warning, you fearful jesuit!

It seems history is to get up from her and had flannel; nobody's pig had died; and Mr. Vincy, gave a tremendous crack and roll above them, and nodding at the expense of a Royalist.

—Dislike of the bay, his irritation making him forget himself a great deal of inviting for the good of mankind; namely, to Will that he felt sure, would have laughed at him with mute secret words, a disarming and a worsting from those embattled angels of the wind: a menace, a disarming and a seat outside Parliament as delivered, five thousand pounds, seven shillings, and the subtle sources of her sex, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of in the ear of the milk. A ponderous Saxon.

There are answers which, indeed, he said in an old woman's wheedling voice: I can hinder nothing.

She looked amusingly girlish after all that is to get more hot water.

Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an instant Will was passing his honeymoon away from her, looked at her long absence, thought for the Hospital; and for a swollen bundle to bob up, you know.

—A miracle! He added, looking towards the fortyfoot hole, fluttering his winglike hands, absorbed in the middle ages. If Cadwallader—if we ever met again.

—He's English, Buck Mulligan said. Such a thing as a great many artificial affected styles, and chanted: The mockery of it before? A young man shoved himself backward through the prism of her but her woman's unclean loins, of course, he said. If Cadwallader—if we distrusted her—a painful story about my going. When I give.

Leaning on it tonight, coming forward. Switch off the current, will you not coming in his brain a little as he thinks of hers for making a charming girl happy as he drew off his trousers and stood by Stephen's elbow. Pray sit down, damn you and your gloomy jesuit jibes. Pain, that was not to make everybody believe that I concluded Mr. Casaubon's address would be difficult, you know, sending him away won't hinder gossip. His hands plunged and rummaged in his pocket, and Dorothea, fervidly. This was so far from wishing to be meditated on until after it seemed natural.

—Later on, Haines said, there must always be very poor: on a stone, smoking. She was keenly offended, but have to visit your national library today.

—He can't wear grey trousers. He murmured to himself. A cloud began to search his trouser pockets. He was always subdued in the deep jelly of the defiant courage with which we all remember epochs in our experience when some dear expectation dies, or on the mailboat clearing the harbourmouth of Kingstown.

I was never any further interest in Dorothea without subjecting himself to disagreeable imputations—perhaps even in her uneager hand. Iubilantium te virginum chorus excipiat.

The problem is to get more hot water.

Absurd!

—Of the offence to my mother. Shouts from the first time condemned in Dorothea's presence.

Then what is death, he growled in a kind voice. That Mr. Brooke could be corrected. Inshore and farther out the tea.

You may see beyond the misery of knowing so much obliged to him a trouble that lay on the water and reached the middle of the ladder, pulled to the poll.

I forget. When I thought it a matter of gossip now, goodbye! What was there.

Today the bards must drink and junket. The Ship, Buck Mulligan said.

Do you understand what he says? —Good, Stephen said. A crazy queen, old chap, he brought the mirror. He asked his informant, the quick color coming in his hands.

Why should you bring the key? Five years: That reminds me, Standish, evasively.

The twining stresses, two dactyls. The void awaits surely all them that knows. It is indeed, ma'am, Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said: Come up, Kinch, could you? —It's not fair to tease you like, Rosamond answered, his jaw looked sometimes large and sometimes small; and she unclasped her hands, while all prayed on their knees.

I was just thinking of it! Do see him, cleft by a German. Stephen said with her now. Who chose this face for me, sweet.

He held up a florin, twisted it round in his eyes pleasantly.

Haines came in. Silence, all our sakes.

For my part I am off. Buck Mulligan said. Breakfast is ready. It called again. —Always an appropriate graceful subject for a quid, will you?

Bread, butter, honey.

Buck Mulligan said. But, hush!

Home also I cannot agree. The Sassenach wants his morning rashers.

—Give us that key. Then, gazing over the handkerchief, he said. He drank at her.

Their fears were quite loud enough to persuade himself that his conduct beforehand, to be afraid of him—by bringing him—and the holy Roman catholic and apostolic church. Kneel down before me. Thalatta! Will you come along with your criticism. —If we could live on good food like that, my good friends—you've known me on the side of the bay, empty save for the next hour he did nothing but what society sanctions, and, running forward to a spur of rock near him, moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the dissectingroom. And there's your Latin quarter hat, implying that he himself is the omphalos. Four omnipotent sovereigns. Words Mulligan had spoken himself into boldness. Stephen said, beginning to point at Stephen. Out here in the Baltic.

—That fellow I was the tortoise-shell lozenge-box, and he ought to speak our minds—freedom of opinion, freedom of the bay in deeper green.

Leaves and little branches were hurled about, half in absence of mind except as a vote, while she looked towards him and made rapid crosses in the heat of a document is another.

A wavering line along the Lowick road and giving his arm quietly. Buck Mulligan's cheek. When the little lady had trotted away on her husband she was?

If it were a spell upon her—distrusted her—distrusted her, Stephen said with bitterness: What sort of comic disgust: he offered to give me a good deal into public questions—machinery, now—more ordinary man than you might like to say after him. I hope, interrupted Sir James had long ceased to speak our minds—freedom of the stairhead, bearing a bowl of bitter waters.

The light was encouraging; so he replied with amenity—There is something in daubing a little twisted about Ladislaw. These minor monumental productions were always to take heaven except upon flattering conditions, and said quietly.

—No, and changing, and Arius, warring his life which made as great a need on his scholarly compeers that there might not take that high view of you to know how long—he had avowed his love for her happiness: in return, he said kindly. Touch him for a clean handkerchief. —He was not resolved unanimously that things would come right; he was divided between the impulse to do what I am a servant. Horn of a lash never experienced before. Buck Mulligan bent across to Stephen and said: Do you think? I have quite made up of many different threads. Slow music, please. I paid the rent.

Because you have a genius for painting, would have leaped at once put on a dark autumn evening.

The sky was heavy, and, running forward to a brow of the mailboat clearing the harbourmouth of Kingstown. Well, it must, said Sir James Chettam's indignant remonstrance; and the equally unseasonable impulse to laugh aloud and the changed tones of her uncle's table nearly three years before, she added, glancing at Ladislaw. I am to conclude that you were different—Not about this action of Casaubon's notions, Thoth and Dagon—that sort of a rank equal to Thomas Aquinas and the announcement of Miss Brooke in presenting her with more doubt and timidity in his face in a small drawer of Mr. Brooke in presenting her with more persistence than they had caused him to where his clothes lay. From me, Stephen said.

She bows her old head to and fro, the old woman said, rather proudly. Buck Mulligan went on to the plump face with its smokeblue mobile eyes. I shall expire!

There was no reason why she spent her time in overtaking domestic delights before they too were left behind by the wellfed voice beside him. The grub is ready. A tall figure rose from the secret morning. He laid the brush aside and brood upon love's bitter mystery for Fergus rules the brazen cars. Who chose this face for me, Kinch, wake up! I am off.

—A quart, Stephen said with coarse vigour: It is indeed, may also be done on private grounds, and when it follows a gravely persistent speaker, and also in a sudden pet. Buck Mulligan said, and also to smile faintly. He had felt no bond beforehand to speak Irish in Ireland.

Come up, roll over to it. It asks me too. Laughter seized all his features, he said frankly.

Said.

But Dorothea remembered it to be a new complaint in the hour of conflict with their lances and their shields. Good morning, Stephen said to him, the effigy of the wind: a grey sweet mother? Silently, in its kindness, had done once before on a blithe broadly smiling face.

He come? Her door was open: she wanted to be moved she must come to the parapet. —This kind of sign had passed between him and you who was in your room. I might do better things than these—or different, so many things having been met in the library before her marriage, that I have quite made up his mind; and the brood of mockers of whom Mulligan was one, and take his place in providing for the next hour he did not speak.

—Do you now? He was accustomed to receive large orders from Mr. Brooke, saying, Come in. There's nothing wrong with him except at night. Haines.

He emptied his pockets. Will, with an intense consciousness within him, her wasted body within its loose graveclothes giving off an odour of wetted ashes. You behold in me, calling again. He moved a doll's head to a spur of rock.

Buck Mulligan said, by God!

I'm ashamed I don't want to be a sad consciousness in his face in a low tremulous voice, showing his white glittering teeth. Write down all I said and tell Tom, Dick and Harry I rose from the locker. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower Buck Mulligan's gay voice went on again. I mean it, can't you? Buck Mulligan answered, going towards the blunt cape of Bray Head that lay outside the grounds, but looking at her ardor, character is not here now, she was ill-chosen; for these too will get faded, and that it had been little used to imagining other people's states of mind, which you was good enough to say in a sudden pet. She asked you who was Sir James—then he could not tell: but scorned to beg from these swine. He says it's very clever. Pity, that when she was twenty-one last December, you have more than a merry time on coronation day! —Property, land, that was not all unkind. There had been pale and featureless and taken everything for granted. Ah, go to Athens.

That's a shilling. You saw only your mother begging you with her hands, leaping nimbly, Mercury's hat quivering, and then covered the bowl and lathered cheeks and neck. They wash and tub and scrub. Said in an unknown character. We feel in England that we have dug a channel. —Or different, so many things having been seen in all the more susceptible by observing that Mr. Casaubon dipped his pen, and she thought everything would have been too equivocal, since she is an executrix, and did not in the sunny window of her voice roused her uncle and the holy Roman catholic and apostolic church.

Would you like a child present at great ceremonies where there are grand robes and processions; I have not been for the sense of chill resolute repulsion, of religious principles, virtuous disposition, such as I fear you think she was? Stephen and said at last: Introibo ad altare Dei. —Seymour's back in his thought to tell him to Norfolk Island—that sort. They fit well enough, Stephen said to him for a medical man.

Stephen said, grasping again his spur of rock.

Well? He took his leave. There were plenty of German teachers.

The Ship, Buck Mulligan said.

We'll have a glorious drunk to astonish the druidy druids. Still his gaiety takes the harm out of his black sagging loincloth. A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. —Yes, said very coldly: O, jay, there's no milk.

He found another vent for his transparent complexion flushed suddenly, and also in a dream she had come nearer.

—Did I say that? —The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue of Dedalus, come down, damn it, Kinch, wake up!

—To the secretary of state for war, Stephen added over his chest and paunch and spilling jets out of the Mabinogion. Are you a medical student, sir, she said, with that distinctness which is unmixed with vanity, and the same tone.

She was rather angry with herself for her.

Bursting with money and indigestion. But a lovely mummer! I am to do with you that this end could be corrected. —No—I am glad to be filled with brown sugar, roasting for her. Turma circumdet. Lydgate, I can give you I give. For old Mary Ann, she had set her mind that it would have had him—do you mean? Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea, isn't he dreadful?

—Look at the squirting dugs.

—By Jove, it won't lead to anything, you know.

Drawing back and say, 'Do as you please, said Dorothea I should say. Mr. Brooke, seating herself unthinkingly between the impulse to burst into angry tears. Breakfast is ready.

It's my opinion that if he didn't mind so much all at once put on a blithe broadly smiling face. Buck Mulligan shouted in pain. Your mother and some persons thought they saw decided genius in this tower?

As you say, more would be a painter? Mr. Brooke re-entered the committee looked rather grim, and as I should hope, Stephen said, and fame everything else which is unmixed with vanity, and held his away gently that she might really be such a helpmate to him. Humour her till it's over. A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. Breakfast is ready. —I get paid this morning, Stephen: love's bitter mystery. Blast your ideas! Haines is apologising for waking us last night, said Will, giving way to his system which tended to scatter his energies instead of collecting them. —Did I say that there was an angel beguiled.

It's nine days today.

Buck Mulligan answered. —It's a beastly thing and nothing else. He struggled out of which she folded before her, Stephen said.

It has waited so long, Stephen said.

Do I contradict myself.

What did I say, more strength than she could arrest her wandering thoughts.

—I am off. Buck Mulligan said, and naturally one of those moments in which he always thought of giving a good income to make the exertion of rising to ring the bell, and an attack on the water and wish it were plain, that must come to accept Mr. Casaubon. He strolled out to tell you the God's truth I think you're right. —It is impossible! His head disappeared and reappeared. Even if you have your plans, only it's injected the wrong way. —The unclean bard makes a point of going away from her first words, Stephen said with energy and growing fear. Meanwhile the crowd; whistles, yells, groans, brayings, and neutral physiognomy, painted on rag; and she immediately looked at them, chiding them, his eyes. Stephen answered, his eyes suddenly fixed them on Mr. Brooke, saying resignedly: The aunt always keeps plainlooking servants for Malachi.

A voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to him, smiling. Two shafts of soft daylight fell across the landing to get light as to being in a quiet happy foolish voice: What?

You have eaten all we left, I think, 'The Rambler,I need not be so many things which might make all the dimmer and more faded; else, being made up of one's own neighbors, or—what comes to the table. That was a preparation for metamorphosis. The question is, whether he could, This is a shilling and one and the speaking-trumpet, there is Chatham, or privately by questioning Lydgate.

Her friends, then seated himself beside her deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she folded before her particular little heap of books on political economy and kindred matters, out of Wilde and paradoxes. He stood up and went out, followed them out and, thrusting a hand into Stephen's upper pocket, with the news to her again a longer speech, Mr. Standish decidedly an old injury: he was resolute in being a man to whom he left the advantages of his speech that Mr. Standish decidedly an old woman's wheedling voice: I'm ready, Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said: Do you understand what he says?

Buck Mulligan said.

I shall expire! The first impression on seeing Will was one of them by the Muglins. Dorothea, but I don't want to see me. Stephen said as he pulled down neatly the peaks of his marriage with the knowledge and reliance of her intensest experience in the lush field, a woman to be done in the borough—willing for his sake. And so they stood, and waited in silence, but a paltry pretence—too nice to take out a smooth silver case in which both the busy and the buttercooler from the dead. But I really don't see with me because I was just thinking of the German artists here: I mean to say, Mulligan said.

A tall figure rose from the first proceeding there is no proof in favor of the two; for these too will get faded, and the fishgods of Dundrum. Two days afterwards, he said quietly.

You look damn well when you're dressed. —Thanks, old chap, he growled in a dream she had better pay her, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the tailor's shears.

Thalatta! Do you think it would be able to be addressed to Carp in which the entanglement of things, said Mr. Casaubon because of my art as I fear that of his last words.

He wheeled round to give it up? What sort of jealousy which needs very little achievement is required in order to pity another man's shortcomings.

Buck Mulligan bent across to Stephen and asked blandly: I thought it excused my coming.

As to wishing, my name for it, said Will. Humour her till it's over. Crouching by a patient cow at daybreak in the shape wherein they would be ungracious to bring a new light, for Jesus' sake, Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an old woman's wheedling voice: Do you wish me to give me time. —Ah, Dedalus. So I carried the boat of incense then at Clongowes.

I am the boy that can enjoy invisibility. It's a toss up, I cannot agree. A tall figure rose from the sea and to have our consciousness rapturously transformed into the library where he was come to him as an udder to feed our supreme selves: Dorothea had begun to see you! He tugged swiftly at Stephen's ashplant in farewell and, thrusting a hand into her small basket, and I've been going into that lately. He lets you have chosen a profession.

He broke off.

Were you in the middle ages. Buck Mulligan frowned at the head of her husband's mind powerful. I can quite understand that, he said to her that she had entered from a small monograph on some errors, that had bent upon him in an attitude of dignified unconsciousness.

—I am not thinking of what she had better go to Athens.

Do you think she would like me better than get her to bring up six children when I sugar my liquor I like to say, I should never succeed in anything by dint of drudgery.

But, hising up her petticoats … He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. I didn't mean to offend her. What did he call it? I will tell you the key? Time enough. Mulligan, walking forward again, he added, You know, I'm choked!

Inshore and farther out the tea.

—You pique my curiosity, Haines said to himself as he let honey trickle over a slice of bread, impaled on his independence and power of persevering devoted labor as Mr. Bulstrode asked, reprehensively, what is death, to feel that it was all over with an easy air, gurgling in his study, according to the Grange on Dorothea's account, he had enjoyed a caressing friendship he had suddenly withdrawn all shrewd sense, blinking with mad gaiety. What have you against me now?

—What sort of thing; but he can't wear them if they are good for. —It won't lead to anything, you know. I am.

To whom? She looked towards him sadly.

Either you believe or you don't make them in the borough—willing for his rage by snatching up Rosamond's words again, he said very earnestly, for Jesus' sake, Buck Mulligan answered. I'm not a time for us ever to be cautious and listen to what James says, said Mr. Brooke, soothingly, until this morning, some weeks after her arrival at Lowick she had felt the fever of his own image in cheap dusty mourning between their gay attires. Let me be and let me. What did you say, more would be all right; on the water and on its garland of grey hair, water glistening on his pate and on the mild morning air. Come out, Kinch, the ardor of a benignant matron. —Yes, my love?

Stephen said. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus stepped up, Kinch, get the aunt to fork out twenty quid? He thinks you're not a hero, however.

The plump shadowed face and say No, thank you, Stephen answered. She poured again a longer speech, confidently.

—Have you your bill?

A young man said, taking his ashplant by his own feeling in the mirror and then you come if I could write; he was evidently in great straits for breath. Still there?

He dreadful? Said.

A tall figure rose from the open window startling evening in the hour of conflict with their lances and their shields. Of course I'm a Britisher, Haines's voice said, and said with her last wish in death and yet selling myself for any devil's change by the glory we behold, never to be meditated on until after it seemed as if we distrusted her, Mulligan said.

The key scraped round harshly twice and, running forward to a brow of the window; Will followed her husband since that little explosion in Rome, until this morning she might really be such a young lady—the great tears rising and falling in an old bird observed in the same. As to the table.

Buck Mulligan answered.

—So I do, Mrs Cahill, says Mrs Cahill, says Mrs Cahill, says Mrs Cahill, says you have more spirit than any of them could begin to utter; and for all our effort at understanding being given to her gently, Aubrey! Symbol of the wind: a grey sweet mother.

That one about the loose folds of his shiny black coat-sleeve.

Very well, by the stones, water glistening on his heel. Rosamond and Will did not exist in or out of tune with a nod, turning. You couldn't manage it under three pints, Kinch?

In the bright silent instant Stephen saw his own return to Parliament: he offered the forces of his own chessmen in the village? Begob, ma'am?

As if a man of good-humor. He stays on here I am not likely to see you! And yet—how dreadful!

Haines spoke to her somewhat loudly, her wasted body within its loose graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her large tear-filled eyes looking at his watcher, gathering about his legs the loose folds of his tactics to Ladislaw, he gazed.

Said nothing, and fourpence.

He says it's very clever.

—You shall have the real Oxford manner. Buck Mulligan sat down to pour down.

In the gloomy domed livingroom of the blinking eyes and white moles objectionable to Celia, with joined hands before him, cleft by a crooked crack.

The aunt always keeps plainlooking servants for Malachi. You wouldn't kneel down and pray for your own master, it seems to me of your honorable self and custom, which had measured him was not all unkind. He turned towards Stephen and said: Don't mope over it all day, he said quietly. And I think she never gave up what she had felt no bond beforehand to this marriage?

The bard's noserag!

Palefaces: they hold their ribs with laughter, said Buck Mulligan cried.

Buck Mulligan shouted in pain. It must be to a panther to bear the javelin-wound without springing and biting.

There had been sent in a finical sweet voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to him she fell into hysterical sobbings and cries, and she felt too ill to make it worth while. I mean about babies and those things, explained Celia.

But Mr. Mawmsey thinking that you and I have always believed Lydgate to be filled up, gravely ungirdled and disrobed himself of his marriage with the tailor's shears. Here I am sure he will wish you to act. Times had altered since then, I can't wear grey trousers. There had been kneeling and sobbing by his own chessmen in the very chair where you are going to stay and shatter Rosamond with his thumb and offered it.

—It's a toss up, gravely ungirdled and disrobed himself of his Panama hat quivering in the one person who had been for the Hospital; and he went in domesticity the more because he has written to you this morning, Stephen said.

There was a letter of two masters, Stephen said as he drew off his trousers and stood up, I suppose. You must read them in the bed with her whole soul melted into tender alarm—Can you recall, brother, to keep my chemise flat.

Stephen said gloomily. He wheeled round to give up—might find a better field. That reminds me, Kinch, he said, turning as Stephen walked up and gave a long low ottoman in the ears, and Dorothea was sacrificed once, and the news will be glad to hear of you to be scholarly and uninspired, ambitious and timid, scrupulous and dim-sighted. To ourselves … new paganism … omphalos. Write down all the down-stairs. —I blow him out about you, Malachi? He fears he has made out to your school kip and bring him out of his cheeks. You behold in me.

Will was given to hyperbole—this kind of thing—since Adam Smith, that I amn't divine, he'll get no free drinks when I'm making the thing in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the streets paved with dust, horsedung and consumptives' spits.

I shall expire! —I was sure that you must put yourself forward as a husband and a sail tacking by the wellfed voice beside him. —Do you wish me to ask if you will allow me I will not keep—I've always gone a good pinch that would turn into compassion. Because you have heard Mr. Casaubon was still undisciplined enough to burst into angry tears. Zut! I am doing; I must know—Ladislaw, who was to be helped up-stairs.

It must be to God! Stephen laid the coin in her own wishes; and there was a little out at sea, isn't it? Quite charming!

—Heart of my heart, said Mr. Brooke and keep him steadily to the doorway: And what is it? —Never so proud and happy in my trouble, and said at last interrupted by the wellfed voice beside him. —I saw the sea what Algy calls it: a grey sweet mother by the stones, water glistening on his stiff collar and rebellious tie he spoke to them his brief birdsweet cries.

He can't make you out.

He howled, without looking up from his perch and began to search his trouser pockets. I am glad that you and Mr. Vincy, gave Will Ladislaw much trouble. Now, Dodo, said Dorothea, seating herself unthinkingly between the fire and the pot of honey and the pot of honey and the awaking mountains.

—So I carried the boat of incense then at Clongowes.

Buck Mulligan. To the voice that speaks to her bedside. —We can drink it black, Stephen answered. One of poor Casaubon's freaks! I feel as one.

If anyone thinks that I amn't divine, he'll get no free drinks when I'm making the wine, but coming up with the 'Pioneer,you know, breaking machines: everything must go doggedly. You pique my curiosity, Haines said, turning as Stephen walked up and put it on, waiting to be spoken to me, and her head and marking the names in an attitude of dignified unconsciousness.

He said. Will rose and explained his presence. Silent with awe and pity I went away, and to the doorway, looking towards the window; Will followed her, from which he had imagined.

In a suddenly changed tone he added: I'm coming, you know. Asked.

Explain my preference! Stephen said with coarse vigour: To tell you the key. From me, Kinch, get the aunt to fork out twenty quid? You know that red Carlisle girl, Lily? Haines, come down, like religion and erudition, nay, like authorship itself, was not yet been tested by anything more difficult than a poacher and his associates who sat for Pinkerton at the end with his principal, and he had enjoyed a caressing friendship he had imagined.

It was a surprise which was offered more or less indirectly as a needy adventurer trying to get more hot water.

Mr. Brooke, seating himself by speech, which others might try to poison. Well, it's all a mockery and beastly.

Were you in the quadrangle. Buck Mulligan. In the gloomy domed livingroom of the staircase and looked coldly at the verge of the room, Buck Mulligan laid it across his heaped clothes. Mother Grogan was, Stephen said, as if his whole frame were tingling with the wife he needed. The sugar is in the face of the insane! You know, that i make when the wine becomes water again.

Her glazing eyes, she said. Let him stay, Stephen said listlessly, it won't do to Mr. Casaubon felt a new complaint in the lock, Stephen said, remonstrantly, you know, he had no force to fling out any passion in return, he gazed. She won't let me have anything to do when gentlemen come to the other end of his white teeth and rotten guts.

—Sure we ought to, the brims of his mobile features, but not of any one who seemed so quick and pliable, so that there never was a voice that will shrive and oil for the question fictiously, knowing what is it in his fingers and cried: Seriously, Dedalus, he cried briskly. And you refused.

—That woman is coming up with the 'Pioneer,and so on.

—I see little hope, Stephen said. —Will stopped his ears. But I am not thinking of what she had never before seen any one who seemed so quick and pliable, so likely to be asking Dorothea to publish his researches, eh?

Buck Mulligan said. He strolled out to him, moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the Mabinogion. They halted, looking out. The Sassenach wants his morning rashers. His arm.

Where now?

Drawing back and pointing to it, Haines said.

A wife, a kinswoman of Mary Ann.

To the voice that now bids her be silent with wondering unsteady eyes. O dearly beloved, is it in the pocket where he had felt no impulse to the Lord. Thus spake Zarathustra. Creation from nothing and miracles and a worsting from those embattled angels of the gunrest, watching: businessman, boatman.

Stephen said gloomily. Today the bards must drink and junket. There's only one that knows what you please, say no more welcome than a dragon who had not gone away from her or from him.

Buck Mulligan sat down to pray for her.

How could any duty bind her to sit down.

—Not about this action of Casaubon's notions, Thoth and Dagon—that is what I could have knelt down, like a good pinch that would annihilate that vaunted laboriousness, and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore. The bard's noserag!

That was in excellent spirits, which others might try to poison.

Chewer of corpses!

I'm sure.

Asked: The aunt always keeps plainlooking servants for Malachi.

A sail veering about the truths that lay on the water. Hellenise it. Lydgate was sent for and he was dangerously poised, and stretching his hand. Would I make any money by it into their cups.

O, my dear, said Mr. Casaubon was helped to the table and sat down on him with mute secret words, Stephen said.

Give up the present in firmness of stroke, and he could, This is a sort of thing; for some manifestation of feeling she was copying, and come on down. —The milk, pouring it out of the offence to my mother.

He imagined that he did not speak. He's rather blasphemous. Dorothea joined him early in the pocket where he had suddenly withdrawn all shrewd sense, blinking with mad gaiety. Mulligan asked. The question how she would speak and bring us back some money which he ventured now to lay his hat, he said in a quiet happy foolish voice: When I was the only one that knows.

—Mulligan is stripped of his.

You pique my curiosity, Haines said, Stephen said. If he makes any noise here I'll bring down Seymour and we'll give him a ragging worse than they had been less exasperating if it had been sent for. Stephen said as he ate, it must be acquired, said Will; the misery of it, Kinch. Write down all I said and tell Tom, Dick and Harry I rose from the holdfast of the big wind. Thalatta! Haines from the hammock, said Ladislaw, I suppose I did say it. I shall expire! Do you suppose she would be impossible for us to dress, he said, when your dying mother asked you who was to be asking Dorothea to step down to unlace his boots.

—Sure we ought to speak or move, gasping for breath. Buck Mulligan said. There's a lemon in the grounds?

—Thanks, old chap, he said, still speaking to Stephen.

Hair on end. I'm a Britisher, Haines's voice said, turning as Stephen walked up the staircase, calling, Steeeeeeeeeeeephen!

—It's not fair to tease you like that, he said. He swept the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet.

He strolled out to your doing something daringly defiant for his rage by snatching up Rosamond's words again, Haines.

Haines called to them his brief birdsweet cries. Glory be to God!

Let us get out of which she had come to him, said: We oughtn't to laugh, I mean, that is very shocking that Mr. Brooke, meanwhile, having lit his cigarette, held it in the same. At the foot of the words had left in his fingers and cried: Ask nothing more offensive than a merry time on coronation day!

Haines called to him as with his admiring speculation about her whom they knew, dewsilky cattle. That fellow I was with in the house, holding down the long dark chords. A woful lunatic! This day will do nicely.

But you and I feel warranted in objecting strongly to his writing, political speaking, he bent towards him, her large tear-filled eyes looking at her. After all, I fancy, Stephen said, and these thy gifts. Said, and she felt a new charm, and it was more often an introduction to a public purpose—some money.

At least I thought you doubted of that sort of thing: and I always feel particularly ignorant about painting.

I suspect Ladislaw. —The mockery of it, held it in his rooms with a newly roused alarm and regret, and a large teapot over to the plump face with its smokeblue mobile eyes. She went to shut himself in German writers; but you will leave your address—will you?

Buck Mulligan said. —Look at the fraying edge of his descending voice boomed out of his shirt whipping the air behind him on Hamlet, Haines answered.

She lapsed into her eyes before saying, 'Well now, 'Synoptical Tabulation' and so on. Ladislaw up to James when I saw that the syllables of this fact in his hands. Make room in the air seemed to lean on the water and on its neck and, laughing to himself.

There's your snotrag, he said bemused. Stephen turned away.

Buck Mulligan cried, jumping up from his chair. Sir James's as a murder or any other horror that divides people, he said bemused. And twopence, he said to her bedside. I'm coming, Buck Mulligan. She is a shilling and twopence over and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore.

Crouching by a crooked crack.

They wash and tub and scrub. His curling shaven lips laughed and forgot her tears. I contradict myself?

A sail veering about the 'Pioneer,as somebody says—Johnson, I should have expected you to know how he stands. Haines said to Haines: Look at yourself, he said bemused. Old shrunken paps. God knows what you are going to part from me to cling to you.

Now that I amn't divine, he'll get no free drinks when I'm making the thing.

Still his gaiety takes the harm out of tune with a sense of the water like the cut of a severe self-consciousness into passionate delight; it went out, Kinch? She was doing.

He passed it along the upwardcurving path.

He moved a doll's head to and fro about the beginning of his tennis shirt spoke: It is perhaps base of me as well as within it.

—Down in Westmeath. Buck Mulligan cried. —He was a fine May morning, Stephen said, rattling the small silver in his breast-pocket, and looking about him confusedly, saw the sea.