#woe mother figure be upon ye

[thelakesuite]

look, i haven't finished world of tomorrow yet, but now i've got two women to think about with duty, the scientific pursuit of immortality, and being a conscious part of a larger being. plus i can put red on both of them :)

[lovelyo]

Cressida Torture Porn

RANT INCOMING: What the absolute fuck is wrong with this show and their love for torturing Cressida? Do they get off in making this girl suffer? If I was in her position, I would go apeshit too.

All this girl wants is a genuine connection, to be valued and all people do is knock her down. She lashes out horribly on people just like Penelope, but she’s punished while Penelope is considered a girlboss even though Cressida’s home environment is shittier than Penelope’s. Her hope from her suffocating fate was Eloise only for Eloise to push her to the side for a friend who lied to her for years and screwed her over. Got called a viper (EVEN THOUGH ELOISE KNOWS WHO LW IS! 🤬🤡) by the person she always wanted to befriend even before Eloise fell out with Penelope.

Cressida saved Eloise from loneliness but Eloise didn’t reciprocate when Cressida was in need. Even then, she liked Eloise so much that before she left to get shipped away to even a more emotionally absent relative, she wanted to reconcile with Eloise, but Eloise closed the chapter. She tried to say goodbye to Eloise before she left. Eloise didn’t even bother to look Cressida’s way when she left.

All for Penelope who has done considerably more damage to her than anyone. 😐😑

It was the first time ever I was genuinely upset at Eloise. Eloise knew about Cressida’s ordeal but still vilified her and abandon her like she was a side piece(ain’t far from the truth really). Eloise unfortunately had to drink the OOC Koolaid for Penelope to get her HEA. This made me despise Penelope more btw. While everyone is in a damn romantic sitcom catering to Pen, Cressida is fighting for her life in this SAW trap where it’s do or get fucked.

Cressida was a bitch throughout the show until we came upon her reasonings in S3 which made her more of a sympathetic character than Penelope ever was. We should feel bad for this “woe is me” jackass who’s more privileged than anyone in this goddamn show but not the one who has parents that are emotional as a spiked bat?

The one who’s been indoctrinated heavily by her mother to treat other women like enemies?

The one where it’s her 3rd time on the marriage mart, got the guy she had her sights on get taken away just for Penelope to say sike and marry Colin and for Lord Debling to go MIA?(the same happened to her with the fucking prince in season 1!)

The one who’s being forced to marry an old man cause rarely anyone wants her?

The one who lost a friendship she thought was genuine while that friend is going around dunking on her name?

The one who is actually looked down by the ton because they can’t take her seriously?

Her life pretty much sucks but the show keeps trying to shove in our faces that Cressida is a bully so she got what she deserved. Fuck Cressida Cowper, amirite?

Oh Christ.

I’m not justifying her rude and sometimes cringe actions, but if people can “understand” why Penelope does what she does, why can’t people extend the same courtesy to Cressida? Oh yes, she was mean to the show’s golden child so she gets the hammer.

Cressida didn’t expose Penelope to the queen even though she could have. She wasn’t even the one who wrote the fake Bridgerton slander, it was her mom and she even confronted her mom and made her displeasure known about it!

All she wanted was money to be free from her fate. She was desperate but the Bridgertons are like “haha u stupid and u suck. Speaking of suck, time to go suck on Penelope’s toes.”

Yeah, Cressida isn’t clever, she’s stupid right? Stupid enough to quickly figure out who LW was before you Bitchgertons. You hacks didn’t even figure it out when Colin and Penelope’s engagement was printed THE NEXT DAY!

They did Cressida so dirty this season like it’s really heartbreaking, no joke. Cressida is the true victim, not the redhead who got an undeserved HEA cause self-inserters and favoritism.

P.S. Penelope keeping her persona but just using her real name is SO FUCKING STUPID

[sunflower-salt]

WOE! Brothers of Destruction headcanons be upon ye

My wasn't even born until the end of the '90s but damned if I'm not still livin' in 'em ass—

There's a nine-year age difference between them. Taker was born March 24, 1965; Kane was born November 1, 1974. Kane, pointing at a picture of a dinosaur: Is this you? Taker, pointing at a picture of a baby: Is this you?

Taker is afraid of fire, but Kane is not.

Kane only refers to Taker as "Mark" when he's being really serious and earnest.

They're psychically connected. On the night of Kane's debut, as they were standing toe to toe in the ring, Taker reached out telepathically and touched Kane's mind, wanting to see if the thing in the red mask really was his little brother, and an unbreakable bond was instantaneously formed between them as their minds just... sort of... latched on to each other. They're literally always aware of each other, though as the years have gone by, they've gotten used to not being alone in their own heads and have learned to filter each other out until they actually need to communicate/get the sitrep on each other. They share emotions, physical sensations, and sometimes thoughts.

Kane is electrokinetic, just like Taker, but whereas calling down lightning comes very naturally to Taker, it's a struggle for Kane. He can only do it every once in a great while, and it takes up a lot of physical and mental energy. Fire, obviously, is more his element.

They're both bisexual. Kane more often experiences attraction to women while Taker more often experiences attraction to men.

They're two halves of a whole idiot, tbh. Individually they're both very intelligent, but put them together and they come up with the dumbest fucking ideas on the planet. Maximum brain cells when they're apart, one brain cell when they're together (and they're playing tennis with it).

Taker is a dog person, Kane is a cat person.

Kane is a very cautious driver. This annoys the hell out of Taker. Taker is a very reckless driver and tends to get a little too friendly with the gas pedal. This scares the hell out of Kane. Taker, 0.2 seconds after the light turns green: GREEN MEANS GO, BABY BROTHER. Kane: YOU'RE MAKING ME NERVOUS!!!

Kane does not remember their mother. Taker both envies and pities him.

They basically take turns being mad at and then forgiving Paul for all the shit he put them through. In general, Kane is more forgiving of Paul than Taker is, which is interesting because a good deal of Taker's anger at Paul comes from the shit Paul did to Kane.

They have different ways of expressing brotherly affection. Taker is physically affectionate but emotionally constipated; Kane is verbally affectionate but touch-averse. This leads to silliness like Kane just casually dropping an "I love you" into the conversation and Taker doing the verbal equivalent of a keysmash as he tries to figure out how to respond in a way that saves face/preserves his reputation before ultimately just giving Kane a flustered Headbutt of Love.

They give each other Headbutts of Love a lot, actually. In lieu of hugging, which Kane usually dislikes, they'll gently knock their foreheads/temples together. They do it as a way of expressing affection as well as to cheer each other up.

They need each other like they need air, whether they're fighting or friends.

They each prioritize their relationship with the other over all other relationships in their lives—again, whether they're fighting or friends. This has caused problems with their romantic partners. Girlfriend/boyfriend: I swear, it's like you care about your brother more than you care about me! Taker/Kane: Um... duh?? Why wouldn't I??? They genuinely just Do Not see the issue.

Kane has a lot of phobias, most of them relating to his childhood trauma. Hospitals, doctors, needles, baths, enclosed spaces... He also tends to freak out at the sound of raised voices and slamming doors.

Kane is autistic. Thank you, good night.

Kane is honestly "looks like he would kill you, is actually a cinnamon roll." Taker is "looks like he would kill you, would actually kill you."

Taker is the mean sibling, but Kane is the petty sibling.

Taker is technologically illiterate. Man can barely open his email. Kane does not get paid enough to put up with it.

Taker doesn't get paid enough to put up with Kane's shenanigans. Kane is the mischievous little brother and he absolutely delights in his role. Taker: Every time you pull off some bullshit, another one of my hairs goes gray. Kane: False. Redheads don't go gray. Taker: Which should tell you just how up to here I've had it with your bullshit, Kane. Your bullshit is so heinous it breaks the laws of nature. Kane: Big deal. We do that every day. Taker: *the longest, deepest, weariest sigh you've ever heard in your entire life*

Kane has food insecurity, which comes from a solid decade of not being fed regularly by Paul in the basement.

Everyone knows Kane is traumatized, but few people realize Taker is just as traumatized, albeit in his own way. Kane's trauma is more obvious, manifesting often enough as panic attacks and crying fits that most people can take a look at his rage fits and recognize them as yet more panic attacks. Taker's trauma, however, manifests as outbursts of rage 100% of the time, which a lot of people write off as either mere temper tantrums or an expression of masculinity. But Taker has nightmares just like Kane does, and half the time, his rages are actually anxiety that he's expressing in a way that makes him feel more powerful than just admitting he's scared.

Taker is capable of dying, but he's not capable of staying dead. Kane, I think, just straight-up can't die. I think. My headcanon for his mortality (or lack thereof) is still kind of fuzzy...

You mess with one, you get the other—even when they're mortal enemies.

[localcanadiancreature62]

Woe,GF fanchildren be upon ye.

Fiddlestan au but Fidds has children from both Stan and Ford. Lemme explain. Fidds ends up creating a robot child out of his and Ford's dna after losing the custody battle with Emma may and Tate,since it devastated him that much which is why instead of going insane with the memory gun he ends up grabbing hair from Ford while he's asleep and creates a robot clone child from their shared dna. He's already starting to use the memory gun at this point as this is after he quit the project and thus he's beginning to become unstable although he's still sane enough to take care of a child so he figured that he should just replace Tate if his ex-wife won't let him have his Tater. Thus,F-1N53AS aka Finneas "Finn" Mcgucket was "born". Meanwhile the Fiddlestan kid was "born" after Fidds ended up helping Stan with the portal and he suddenly decided to make a kid for them too when they got into a relationship n' the con was talking about wanting to have children lately. And so,F-R4NCH3SKA aka Francheska "Fran" Mcgucket-Pines was born. More under the cut cuz the info for this au is Longgg.

Finn acts a lot like Ford,being bright and passionate as well as in love with life. Finn is basically Ford but if he was untouched by the Horrors (Bill,portal,brother issues, etc). He is a very lively and enthusiastic boy,he's also into the sciences/research like Ford but instead of anomalies he studies regular plants and animals as he also has Fidds' anxiety (he's terrified of anomalies and monsters),he wants to be an Ecologist when he grows up as he loves how the animals plants and people work together to create such a wonderful,thriving environment. Finn may be a lot like his genetic templates,but he's also drastically different from them as he's shy quiet to the point of being nonverbal most of the time and also really jumpy as well as anxious 24/7.

Ford and Fidds may be generally introverted,but Finn is withdrawn to the extreme,he doesn't talk to anyone but his dad Fidds as he's otherwise pretty silent,so silent that his father usually doesn't hear him or notice his presence. Meanwhile Fran acts exactly like Stan but worse. She's a little shit bully that always blatantly insults adults and children alike, she's brilliant like her dad Fidds but also a delinquent like her papa Stan which often leads to her using her smarts for pranking people rather than for useful things like world changing inventions,she is feisty spunky and always confident but she's also lowkey feral. feral as in she's batshit insane and always uses her inventions to hurt people such as using her makeshift taser on the unfortunate children that annoy her or making a hyperrealistic spider robot army to scare her teachers. she ended up getting Fidds' pettiness,she commits crimes but at a smaller scale than her papa Stan. she isn't really into the criminal thing except for wanting to get into arms dealing one day,and Fran's specialty is weaponry rather than machinery. she often creates makeshift BB guns death rays and flamethrowers for fun. Also this is called the Mommy Mcgucket au (because Finn thought that since Fidds "gave birth" to him by creating him,he must be his mother after the hillbilly explained the birds and the bees to him when he saw a billboard of a pregnant woman in town. Fidds tried many times to correct him,but the kid's code is faulty and he wouldn't listen so he just let him call him "Mom". out of universe reason though,i thought it would be funny if Fidds a man was called Mommy loll and the term rhymes with his surname too sooo). Fidds ends up getting married to Stan after the grifter falsified documents of him as a woman and they pretended that "Stanford Filbrick Pines" was married to "Fidelity Mcgucket" since gay marriage wasn't legal yet,so even when it's under a fake name and identity,they're still technically married (Fidds was perfectly fine with everyone thinking he was married to Ford,as he knew that he married the con and not the insufferable bastard). Being with Stan was the happiest Fidds has ever been,he was married to a wonderful man and had two amazing children. He had finally achieved stability after that whole fiasco with Ford and the memory gun as well as Emma may,he was finally happy after so much suffering. Or was he? 😏.

While Fidds may have been a great husband,he was.. lacking as a father. Finn had various defects as a result of him being a quick snap decision made by Fidds' in order to save his sanity soon after the portal testing and him losing the custody battle with Tate,thus he wasn't given the careful planning and blueprints that a regular robot would have which meant that he malfunctions often and he has various disabilities (creating a child out of your and your ex's dna to cope with shit obviously ended up horribly). He's literally blind in one eye,his right leg gets stiff a lot due to the scrap metal used for it being very old and rusty,fingers from both hands fall off a lot as the screws were also rusty and didn't fit his model,he is Very sensitive to touch and both cold/hot temperatures as his sensors are fried from overuse (testing. too much testing) which is why he flinches at the slightest poke or warmth,and he gets tired very easily and thus he needs a constant battery change (physical disabilities,autism,and chronic fatigue syndrome allegories..). Due to how much attention Finn needs with his fragile condition,Fidds ends up spending more time with him instead of Fran. This leads to Fran acting out and being more chaotic than she usually is just to get her dad's attention. Plus Fidds thinks that Finn is Ford,as in he views his own son as an idealized version of Ford that is perfect and has never betrayed him ever nor will ever have the capability of doing so (he may have gotten over his feelings for Ford. But he never got over how Ford betrayed his trust as a friend,as a partner with him making it clear that the portal and the darn triangle are more important to him than the one person who has supported him since day 1). Whenever the boy acts negatively,he is verbally abused and given the silent treatment because "My Ford wouldn't do that",Fidds is entirely deluded by the fact that since his son acts like Ford he could shape him into the idealized version he has of his best friend/first love who would never betray him and always be nice to him. Finn is simultaneously degraded while also being praised for being a better man than Ford ever was,and Fidds outright discourages him from having any dreams or ambitions as he figured that if he got rid of the root cause of "Ford's" betrayal of him i.e his lofty ego and ambitions then he could live peacefully with his new genius.

Except the worst part is,Finn never wanted any of that whole "achieving a great destiny" thing that his other genetic template/daddy Ford sought after,he just wants to live a normal life while pursuing his passions and leaving a mark on the world instead of being an overachiever. Fidds never knew about this,or more like he did know but he ignored his son's explanation in favor of his idealized view on things. Fidds is actively encouraging the glass (disabled) child and normal child/golden child and neglected child dynamic with his insane view on things. He may not be insane from the memory gun as he quit soon after getting into a relationship with Stan,but he's insane from his trauma with Ford. Finn and Fran become distant from one another because of Fran secretly being jealous of her older brother (older cuz he was born a year before her) being their dad's special little boy while Finn thinks that Fran is useless cannon fodder just like Fidds does despite being close with her as kids as the hillbilly figured that the "lazy delinquent" was less important than his little Finny (also the fact that Finn is technically a replacement of Tate as well makes this worse. he constantly coddles and spoils Finn the way he was never able to do so with Tate due to the whole "leave your family to study cryptids in the woods" thing),congrats Fidds,you became an even worse version of Filbrick.

Also the other horrific part about this is that,BOTH Finn and Fran are brilliant like their father Fidds except Fran doesn't use her genius properly due to her being a little shit who favors making killer weaponry instead of helping people and making money with normal gadgetry while Finn is a total nerd that wants to study most of normal non anomaly flora and fauna (he loves animals plants and bugs. he's a real hippie-esque nature boy) in order to help the environment and deal with things like climate change when he's older. Also it's so painful that Fidds' new family was made through choice instead of it being forced on him (i hc that Emma may and Fidds were an arranged marriage by their parents) yet he destroyed it with his obsessive behavior,he chose happiness and didn't let others dictate his life this time yet he also chose to ruin it for himself. Fidds is a loving father,he cares about both of his kids deeply yet he also fucked up a lot.

Him fucking up his kids so bad is the reason why after college,Finn and Fran stay in Gravity Falls but they don't contact their father ever again. They only ever talk to their papa Stan and arrange hangouts with him because he was the only parent out of their two dads that actually felt like a parent and did his job of raising them instead of whatever insanity Fidds subjected them to,Stan often tried to stick up for Finn and make Fidds stop being so strict on him but he stopped trying after he concluded that his hillbilly husband is insanely stubborn while he also tried his best to support Fran and take care of her when Fidds failed in doing so. Stan realizing that Fidds is basically doing the same thing that Filbrick did to him and Ford to their own children made him become distant from the hillbilly as well,but he didn't once try to divorce him. He stayed throughout everything,as he knew that the southerner was doing this because he was hurting although he didn't know how to help when the man was so deluded by him thinking he was doing the right thing.

Everything else basically goes exactly the same as canon,except Fidds never went insane from the memory gun (although he still went insane but for a different reason) Stan has two robot children that often visit him stopping by at the Shack a lot plus the twins have a robot aunt and uncle as well as a third hillbilly Grunkle. Also Finn and Fran have to deal with Weirdmaggedon as well,but it's worse for them as they end up discovering that the man that their father destroyed their family over also ended up making a deal with a demon that caused the apocalypse. Fidds has a lot of explaining to do,and apologies are long overdue (woah that rhymed).

Bonus - The kids technically still "grow up" but via Fidds making new models every year and then transferring their code within the new bodies,thus they still technically go through puberty. Finn and Fran used to act like exact copies of kid Ford and Stan respectively the moment they were created as a 5 and 4 y/o since their code was made to replicate the Stans on purpose but after two years,they started to gain sentence and thus develop their own personalities. Finn and Fran are NOT twins,they were "born" a year apart from each other,they only have matching names because Fidds wanted to make it clear that they were his children (F letter names like him). The Mcgucket Siblings still look human despite being entirely machine,this is because they have silicone "skin" that feels and acts exactly like normal human skin with it being soft being able to get punctured etc and their hair is made out of fine wires that are made to look and feel like normal human hair. Finn and Fran are only as brilliant as they are because Fidds programmed his 30 years worth of studying the sciences into a 5 y/o and 4 y/o in order to make it clear that they're his children. Finn is the only one that calls Fidds "Mom" as Fran calls him "Dad",and he stops calling him that by the time he starts getting verbally abusive and switches to calling him "Fiddleford" although he returns to calling him "Mom" by the time they reconcile,by the time Finn is older at about 12-16 he actually recognizes the man as his father and not his mother but the nickname sticks. Finn and Fran are actually half siblings,as they have the same father but a different other parent. Stan is technically Finn's uncle,but growing up with him and being raised by the con instead of his own father throughout the years made him see the grifter as a father figure,Stan is proud to have him as a nephew since he greatly reminds him of Ford when he was younger but unlike Fidds he doesn't twist it into something messed up.

[mercars-musings]

Hey! For Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye! ?

🌸, 🌼 and 🥀

SUPER sorry for the delay, I had an all weekend event that kept me from answering all these and I've been desperate to get back here the entire time asdfghjkl; TYSM for indulging me in my Az yapping & TYSM for asking! ANYWHOO, Under The Cut are the first of my asks finally answered !!! 🥰

🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard?

Rook doesn't have any siblings, he was an only kid growing up much to his dismay. He always wanted siblings so he'd have some form of companionship when he was younger but his parents weren't intending on kids at all till Az came into the picture. They didn't hate kids or anything just they never really planned on it, but when Rook's father found him in the middle of the battlefield in Ventus he was so upset at the idea of a kid alone in the middle of war that he took him home. Rooks mother wasn't ecstatic about the idea but warmed up to him pretty quickly after a few days when Rook wouldn't stop clinging to her like glue and she kind of fell in love with how sweet he was.

Az actually became friends with Tarquin before the events of Veilguard. They both bonded over sarcasm, their inability to make friends with others very well & the whole being trans men thing. The pair started to get decently close & at one point actually got a lil too drunk & had a one night stand just before Rook got sent to work with Varric for a bit.

So, when Az returns it's a little weird for them both after the hook up and then not seeing each other for a year or so, though it returns to friendly pretty quick after Rook realises Tarquin's developed a thing for Ashur while Rook was away and starts teasing him about it which does eventually backfire when Tarquin realises Az has a thing for Emmrich and returns the favour.

🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say? Anxiety, Lavender {soap}, ashes {from incense} & once Az starts to take a shine to Emmrich hints of Lilac starts to join the mix. {He's totally not trying to attract Emm's attention with a new Lilac beard oil, not at allllll~} 🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison?

His mother, his father and the Qunari family friend I've mentioned once or twice here... for many reasons lmfao

If you wanna know more hit me up with another ask saying so & I'll happily divulge the angsty tea ;P

If you'd like to ask me more things about my Rook Az, then you can find a link to this particular ask game below! More Here

[ryttu3k]

Okay! Thoughts on The Legend of Ruby Sunday!

Note to self: some time this week, watch Pyramids of Mars.

Since it's a penultimate season finale, let's do this as some questions:

The anagrams. The Doctor says it was an anagram, just not the right one, ie. Sue Tech = Sutekh. Except that's not an actual anagram - there's no K in 'Susan Triad Technology', and 'S Triad' is still an anagram of TARDIS. So yes, Susan was a symbol of Sutekh's return, but could she be something else as well? Maybe not necessarily Susan, the Doctor's granddaughter, but someone trying to warn the Doctor about what's happening, maybe? Or is she Sutekh messing with the Doctor by seeding a Mystery Woman all through time and space, like a living Bad Wolf message, just to lure him back to UNIT?

What's going on with Mrs Flood? All we get is her being menacing towards poor Cherry and warning about a storm! Clearly something, yes, but what?

What's going on with Carla? She's the one who names the distortion as 'the Beast' before anyone else.

What's going on with Ruby's mother? She just… faded away from the recording. Is the figure Ruby's mother? We know she took baby Ruby to the church, but does that necessarily mean she's the one who gave birth to her or has anything to do with Ruby's origins? Was she pointing at the Doctor, or was she pointing at Sutekh manifesting behind him? Who actually is Ruby? Is she connected with Sutekh in some way, or another part of the Pantheon? Maybe a child or grandchild of Sutekh? Does she have something to do with the distortion?

Relatedly, why was the image of the TARDIS surrounded by the distortion in the recording? Time is all weird at the church, does the Doctor end up having to go back (or hell, Sutekh hijacking the TARDIS for its own purposes) and, I don't know, breaking time, thus allowing Sutekh into the world? Is Ruby's whole mystery also linked with the Bad Wolf-style luring the Doctor back, maybe by trying to get him to open the Time Window?

Why did the TARDIS grumble when Rogue came in? Was it just that she was already in the process of being possessed and it was an ongoing thing, or is he tied to it too?

Staffing changes at UNIT: where did Shirley go? :( (Oh, apparently she's currently stationed in Geneva, okay.) Who dressed that poor kid? Glad that Donna is confirmed to work at UNIT, but isn't Rose (hi sweetie! You're doing great!) only sixteen? OTOH, Morris is only thirteen… and who the hell let someone named H Arbringer into a UNIT control room, seriously? XD;;

No, seriously, how did they instantaneously catch 'S TRIAD' = 'TARDIS' but didn't get warning signs from literally H Arbringer?

The Trickster was explicitly described as the God of Traps, and Morris kept mentioning the possibility of it being a trap rising. Any connection?

But really, the whole Susan Triad thing? "There's always a twist in the end!" But legit if Susan Triad isn't related to Susan the Doctor's granddaughter, that's goddamn hilarious. There's always a twist at the end! Susan, played by Susan Twist! Susan was mentioned, she must be coming back! Even the Doctor thinks so! NOPE. WOE, SUTEKH BE UPON YE.

Mavity?

[beezonia]

When Marion met Oritel

A little, Winx: The Magic Retold fic!

[not really any warnings just a bit of awkwardness]

You’d think she’d be able to control her magic better then this. She was the Crown Princess of Domino for dragons sake, Marion should be excelling above her peers!

Yet she’s not, the teen can’t really figure out why and it’s annoying her.

Alfea had brought most of her doubts to life and it hurt Marion to see that she fully didn’t believe in herself.

That’s why she’s alone, extra morning training so the fairy can finally get stronger. But actually she’s not alone, Marion can feel someone else’s presence in the back of her mind.

She chooses to ignore it because, why should she acknowledge it if they aren’t a threat to her.

The targets are set in front of her, all she has to do is set them on fire and some slow progress will be made.

So Marion continues to breathe in and out, concentrating her magic so it comes out in small bursts. The bright orange flames weave in and out of each other, slowly but surely reaching their target.

What she fails to consider is the sound of footsteps nearing her, another teen up at the early hours of dawn.

“Hello?”

Marion physically jumps, the large flames bursting from her hands towards the voice.

SHIT

The teen watches as the boy barely manages to dodge the burning flame.

He’s alive at least.

“I’m really sorry about that, didn’t mean to startle you.”

He’s scratching the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his face.

“It’s not your fault. I should have better control of my magic.”

A pause, Marion turns back towards the targets not wanting to dwell on the fact she nearly killed someone.

Gosh, Luna would have a field day with this if she had been there.

“You’re the Crown Princess of Domino, are you not?”

Her eyes narrow. She hates it when people stated the obvious, but at least he wasn’t treating her like glass.

“Yes. Now I’d rather you leave before I hurt you again.”

The boy sighs, he’s contemplating annoying her even more or just giving up. Most usually just give up, not wanting to deal with her cold attitude.

“I’m Oritel, it’s nice to meet you!”

Before Marion can stop it she realises there’s a small but visible smile on her face.

Which should not be there at all, yet she still humours him by introducing herself.

“Marion, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

Another, longer pause.

Marion goes back to channelling her magic and ignoring Oritel like her life depends on it. But wait, wasn’t he one of the Red Fountain students who were visiting?

Marion was sure she had seen him before when the fairies last visited.

“You’re a Specialist?”

Another pause, Ortiel seems to be trying to figure out what to say.

“Training to be one.”

Ahh yes now Marion remembers where she had seen him before!

He was the youngest son of the Steinhold family, a prominent name in the Domino royal court.

Marion remembers seeing him a few times at the council meetings her mother had forced her to sit in.

Another Dominon, how nice. Maybe she’d finally be able to talk to someone about her homeland for once!

The girl had just let Luna do all the talking about Solaria most of the time.

It’s silence that follows, Oritel watches intently as her flames weaves in and out of each other, reaching it’s target in record speed.

They do end up chatting every now and again, Oritel overshares about his Specialist friends whilst Marion just listens.

What else would you expect, they were teenagers for dragons sake.

“It was nice talking to you, I should get back to the dorm though the boys will be waiting for me!”

The Princess turns back to face him, while she was quite annoyed that Oritel had distracted her from practice, Marion had forgotten about her woes due to this.

She was extremely thankful that he had stumbled upon her when he did.

Marion would have gone into her usual cold state if not.

“Likewise, enjoy the rest of your stay here. Maybe you’d like to join me again?”

A wolffish grin appears on his face. He’s happy? Oh, was he just like the rest vying for her attention just for power? Or was Oritel a decent human being?

“I’d love to! Maybe you can show me some of your fairy tricks or something?”

Marion laughs, oh this was going to be fun!

“I’ll be here same time tomorrow, see you then.”

She waves him off, turning towards the northern entrance.

That’s how Marion met Oritel.

[fleeting-sanity]

Morning Mist

Thank you to @swtorramblings for proof-reading! If you know which movie scene this art was referenced from, congrats!

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Padawan Rian was amongst his peers after class. Some older, some younger. They were chatting and playing with each other except for him. Jaesa’s words at Ossus kept ringing inside his head, while dreading the potential realization. Acolyte Hyl’sha noticed his silence, approaching her friend sneakily.

“Riaaaaaaaan!”

The boy’s cerulean eyes widened upon receiving a back slap. Turning around to see the smiling face of the twi'lek girl distracted his melancholy. He was sure she was still upset over the defeat from their last sparring match. “Why are you so quiet?” asked his acolyte friend rather bluntly. He found it hard to answer.

“Umm… Nothing.”

“Let’s spar again!” Hyl’sha propositioned, being met with a polite rejection. 

“I gotta go, sorry. Talk later!” as Rian extracted himself from the situation. 

After searching his feelings, he realized he really didn’t want to meet his parents yet. Not wanting to alarm them, he shot a quick message of his intention, subsequently receiving affirmative responses. His destination was already clear to him; the caves always provided him with tranquility and solitude. There were the occasional strange incidents such as beastly cave-dwellers or natural phenomena, but nothing he couldn’t outmaneuver.

But he was not alone in the cave. He fell down from his levitating meditation upon being spotted by his uncle.

“I’m sorry, I must have disrupted your meditation,” the uncle continued; “I shall leave you be, but if you want my company-”

“Yes, please. Meditate with me.” 

Riornivo could sense from Rian’s sad tone that something was weighing on his dear nephew. But meditation first, he thought. It would definitely help Rian’s state of mind and perhaps make him more open to share his possible woes. The two Jedi shared a fruitful meditation session facing each other, levitating and connecting through the Force. 

“Thank you for sitting with me, uncle.” 

“Of course, if you need more of this just call me,” Riornivo murmured while stroking Rian’s hair. “Can I ask you something?” to which Rian nodded.

“Do you need to talk? Something seems to be bothering you.” 

The boy’s gaze fell, and he hesitated to whether to spill his heart or to keep it to himself. His moist eyes were met with uncle’s loving ones, ending with a vague question; “Uncle…  Did you train with my mother when you both were padawans?”

“Sadly, no. We weren’t around each other much, I was often away from Tython.”

“What about father?”

“That… too. I only met your father when we were newly adults. But that was more than a decade ago.”

Rian decided to not continue asking. After he excused himself, his uncle offered to walk him back to the base. The boy was not looking forward to facing his parents today, but then he recalled a lesson about negative emotions; to not dwell on them and to look into a dilemma from a different perspective. He didn’t completely grasp the point of the lecture, but knew the surface level enough. 

The next two days before the trip went by in a flash. There was tension in the air amongst the small family, causing both parents to count on the excursion for relief. Something Rian appreciated was how he didn’t have to retell his lectures because the classes were technical–consisting of sparring and crafting. When it should have been an exciting prospect, the small family was tense and quiet instead during the journey. The silence was so paralyzing, had it persisted longer it would have figuratively imploded the ship. 

The Sith Lord had to be the one breaking the ice. 

“So what do you want to see first in Alderaan, good Sir? We’ll go there first after we’ve settled in our… home.” Rionnic was kicking himself inside over how cringe-inducing his delivery was. 

“Huh? Oh.” As the boy snapped out of his reverie. “Hmm… based on what I’ve seen in the holos… the caves! Then after that, we should go to the Elysium!”

“Right, right. Your grandparents can’t wait to see you again.”

Jaesa was still quiet with a faint smile. The shuttle landed on Alderaan’s space station shortly after, breaking the tension. After landing on the surface with another shuttle, the chilly yet petrichor infused air of Alderaan was a balm to their souls. Memories of their childhood flashed in both parents’ minds.

“Welcome to our home, Rian. I’m sure you’ll like it here.” Jaesa greeted.

As they approached the reconstructed castle of House Panteer, Rian was in awe of the grand architecture, even more so with the interior. It reminded him of the Jedi temples he’d seen in the holos. The entourage dropped their belongings in the guest suite, while Rionnic dismissed an assigned personal assistant. He immediately smiled the jetlag away upon seeing Rian throwing himself on the bed.

Which reminded him that he’d have to sleep in the same bed with his wife again.

He’d cross that bridge when he got there. In another hour, there would be a welcoming dinner for them–but Rionnic preemptively requested it to be a private one. He decided to take his son for a short tour around the castle compound while explaining what he could about those insufferable royal etiquettes, before nightfall. 

“It’s perfectly fine if you struggle to follow these steps. I’ll probably mess up too… it’s been such a long time since I’ve been here.”

“Why must we do all of this, father?”

An expected question. “Culture, or customs. Each place, each habitable planet, has their own society practicing certain ways of life. It’s good to have a strong bond to your identity, but keep in mind that it wouldn’t always be acceptable to others. Some will clash…” as Rionnic kneeled, placing a firm grip on Rian’s arms. “There are ways for you to face that situation. Respect their home and culture, or refuse to participate. Never encroach or disrespect them.”

Rian nodded, with a hint of nervousness from his body language. Rionnic responded with a smirk, while stroking Rian’s arms. “I’ve babbled again, haven't I? We’re doing this because we’re showing our respect, good Sir. Don’t worry too much about it. They’re your family.”

“Thank you, father. You’re not babbling!”

Before the pair could converse further, a harried messenger called out to Rionnic. The dreaded dinner was upon them, which meant it was time to get dressed. Once again, the estranged couple was secretly admiring how they both looked; she was loving how her husband did his hair and how the tailoring fit his frame perfectly, while he was swooning over her makeup and the scent of her perfume.

“Woooow, you both look awesome!” Rian cheered, indirectly confirming his parent’s thoughts.

“Well, you look the best among us!” 

“Agreed!” Jaesa said as she fixed the collar of Rian’s apparel. The small family proceeded towards the banquet hall. The first thing Rian saw was the abundance of food on display, shrugging at how excessive it was. So far removed from his days growing up in Ossus. The next thing he saw was his father bowing to a lady who seemed surprised.

“You’re bowing? You’re the Emperor and you’re bowing? To me?” the lady said with jest.

Rionnic smirked. “You’re the Queen of Alderaan, and my older sister. Of course you outrank me.” To which the lady let out a laugh; a poised and quiet one. 

“And who’s this adonis with the striking eyes?”

“Rian, meet Lady Katei Panteer, she’s my adopted sister.”

“Adopted? How does that work?”

Which caused the adults to chuckle amongst themselves. Rionnic offered to explain to Rian another time, leaving him even more curious as to what was so funny with his question. Jaesa exchanged a curtsy shortly before her parents arrived. The dinner proceeded in quite an interesting way.

“Wow, cloudberry pies!”

Rian was loud enough to make everyone else feel awkward. It was a violation of royal etiquette to talk while eating. “Rian… can we please be more quiet?” Jaesa whispered while lightly stroking his back. Rionnic, however, was quietly displeased with the pretentiousness of it all.

“It’s fine, let’s forget about the protocols for tonight,” Katei interjected. “This is an informal dinner with family. Time to unwind, to reconnect.”

Parvin perked up, utilizing her best aristocratic voice and practiced speech. “I agree! I must say, this appetizer is already so heavenly, I’m eager for the rest of the course!”

Both Jaesa and Gregor internally sighed at Parvin’s counterfeit enthusiasm, while Rionnic found it amusing. Parvin had always loved flaunting her elevated status, not missing any chance whenever she socialized. What could be more elite than being family with the Queen? Said Queen gave a short but polite acknowledgement, proceeding to inquire about her adopted brother’s life in his absence.

“Assuming you’ve seen the holos… Well, life’s been… hectic. It's been looking up rather recently, though. I’m planning on retiring sooner than later.” Quite the generic answer from Rionnic–while Katei was reconciling with the fact that they were separated for too long for him to feel comfortable sharing his personal events to her. Before she could reply however, he continued. “But I do hope that we can talk again later. Possibly before I depart.”

“Of course, I’ll be here for the week–I don’t have any off-world dealings as I know of… How about you, Jaesa?”

The Jedi preferred to not talk much during the dinner, but had to shuffle her brain for an acceptable response. “Not much, Your Majesty. It’s just filled with raising our son, and trying to survive the war. I’ve been wanting to return here, to, ah, introduce Rian to our homeworld.”

The dinner proceeded with Katei conversing with little Rian, admiring his manners and eagerness for exploring. She had been trying for an heir from the last decade, hoping for a miracle each time she interacted with a child. 

Anxiety took hold of Rionnic once more when it was time to return to the guest suite. Rian held off on sleep, informing him that shutting down the body too soon after a meal would lead to indigestion. He, however, was stalling sleep for a different reason. But there was only so much time left before night turned into morning, thus he decided to stop fighting himself. As he laid next to his wife, he began ruminating about why he was resisting. He actually longed for her touch, for that domestic bliss he was starved of. But her words lingered, resulting in pain at the sight of her. That impending death of his marriage.

He didn’t feel like he slept at all. His eyes shot open; the numbers by the end table indicated that only three hours had passed. Shaking his head, he got up and put on a coat as he stepped outside, all without even glancing at his wife. 

The early morning mist calmed his irrational heartbeat. His steps were slow as the grass bent, and his head empty. 

But his solitude was short-lived. Quiet as she tried to be, his senses were stronger–turning around exactly to where she was despite her attempt at hiding behind a tree. Her gaze immediately fell upon being spotted, and his silence pierced her confidence. She pivoted for an exit. “Stop.”

His command was as sharp as a needle through the heart. “Why are you here… What do you want…” Rionnic’s tone was breathy and forlorn.

“I was just leaving.” As Jaesa took further steps away from the situation.

He didn’t think so. Jaesa gasped as an invisible force stopped her movement, then slowly pulled her towards her estranged husband. It stopped about a foot away. She turned to face him with her heart pounding, brows frowning, and resolve withering. His messy hair and exposed chest were forbidden touches she yearned to steal. 

“You clearly want to talk… Why would you be stalking me otherwise? Let’s talk.”

Rionnic’s lower volume and softer tone didn’t help her mind. She sighed heavily, wanting to be soothed by his caresses and the warmth of his body. “I… I don’t know how to start. I don’t want another fight. I don’t know what I want…” Jaesa lamented.

“Neither do I. There’s only uncertainty and I hate that…”

“Red…”

Jaesa braved herself to get closer, gambling on his passivity for a sensible conversation.

“I want to run this by you. Do you agree that Rian should be in the Academy if we are to co-parent? I’m confident the Order will grant you access–I’ve talked to them about it, they seemed accepting. If not there, then he’d be staying in Odessen.”

Rionnic looked away. Of course she’d talk about the separation, he thought. But it was an agreeable term, despite the resistance his heart was exerting upon facing the end of his marriage. 

“Hm.” 

She decided to further push her luck, closing in to inhale the remnants of his perfume. A steady hand reached out for his arm, tenderly grasping. No reaction. It should be a good sign, as she took a deep breath before uttering her heart. “I want to apologize again. I know it means nothing. I just… I just want to stop hurting you… and me. Perhaps it’s time to-”

“I don’t know how to do this, Jaesa!” Rionnic’s volume took a sudden climb, spooking her. His reaction to her touch was to grasp both of her shoulders. “I don’t want this. But it won’t be the same anymore. But I can’t…. I can’t fight it off. I can’t decide!” as his speech became increasingly desperate and vulnerable. “I want it to stop. I want…”

Her hands moved towards his face, attempting to calm him down while secretly relishing the touches. “You should take your time to think about it. I’ll agree to whatever you want. Even if you’d change your mind later.”

Upon realizing how tight his grip on her was, he abruptly released his hands and flinched backwards, fearful of hurting her. His emotions were awry, hand through his messy hair, and creating further distance from his wife. He shook his head before he ran away.

“Red!” 

But he didn’t stop, leaving Jaesa just as confused and indecisive as he was. One moment she was talking about divorce, then took it back just as fast. Whatever happened to wanting a distance away from him just a few days ago? Perhaps it was the wrong decision to make. Perhaps she was rushing into things. There were too many talks with him ending in escalated tension without a decision made. 

Deep down, however, they knew exactly what they both wanted.

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Relationships aren't always roses and frills. Woe post of flaws be upon ye

Unfortunately, there's no amount of learning to communicate better that makes it always completely smooth sailing. Stretch is fickle and locks up, and Edge will just entirely avoid things depending on what the issue is, and what's upsetting either or both.

Stretch really isn't a talker by nature, at least not about his own problems. It's one of his biggest hurdles to overcome when opening up to someone, and even then there are times he just...can't. Pressing or coaxing, from either party, usually just ends with Stretch snapping angrily or slipping into a pretty serious avoidant depressive state.

Also why he struggles to get into therapy. It's like the more negative the feelings brought on by it are, the harder it gets to find words or verbalize at all. It can be incredibly frustrating and overwhelming.

And while Edge has certainly come to understand this about Stretch, he can also be very...difficult to read at times. Depending on mood or cause of a dip, a wide variety of things can help. But unfortunately that also means a wide variety of things can hurt if Edge doesn't read the situation correctly.

His mother hen type nature can exacerbate this more so, because Edge really struggles with letting someone he cares about deal with something on their own. Especially if he’s not fully confident it's actually helping them, which it doesn't always for Stretch.

As for Edge.

To put it bluntly, Edge is sensitive. Once he’s opened himself up to someone, it is ten million times easier to hurt him. And wounds tend to linger. What makes it worse is that, rather than frustrate him and turn into a grudge of sorts, usually, regardless of how angry or upset he had been at the time, his mind will mold it back around and he will see it as a failing on his end, to at least some degree.

His mind runs on a bit of a feedback loop, and when something "fails", he internalizes it. Tries to recalibrate. In a perpetual state of learning and adapting, which isn't always good. He’s essentially trying to shape himself into whatever "works best" for the situation, in this case, the relationship, and that means even if it's not necessarily what works best for him.

Coincidentally, a large part of why he avoids and represses things. Anything he suspects could be a point of conflict, well, if he never acknowledges it, then it'll never be an issue, right? And it's honestly more subconscious than anything, stemming from it being ground into his mind from a very young age to only ever really openly acknowledge "important" and "relevant" things, and to keep everything else to himself as much as possible.

Given how important honesty is to Stretch, obviously this is a point of contention in and of itself. But because of the whole "sensitive" thing, he really has to find ways to...not be angry at Edge. Not to an unhealthy degree, but coming at Edge in a state of frustration is not going to end in either of them bettering the situation.

Of course, this also leads to Stretch sometimes needing time away to calm down and try to figure the actual root of the problem, how to approach it and address it in a clearer way. But when he does this in a bad mood, especially if in the middle of/end of an argument, Edge gets very, incredibly stressed. No matter how frustrated he gets with Stretch, he hates upsetting him, and so when Stretch ejects like that, even though they've both come to learn why and its importance, he gets incredibly worked up.

Depending on what the conflict was over, he gets very frustrated and has to work out the anger, or he becomes deeply self flagellating, mentally punishing himself for how badly he handled the situation or if he feels he was the cause.

Stretch of course isn't a stranger to being overly critical of himself, either, but the way both of them are self destructive is quite different. It didn't take long for Stretch to realize when Edge gets in a headspace like that it can literally be detrimental to how he will perceive their conflicts or relationship overall going forward.

If it was not very clear by this point, they both have a very significant problem with trying to prioritize the other to even their own detriment, which the other is usually aware of and only fucking. Ouroboroses the situation.

They both deeply resent being a strain on the other, but sometimes toes are stepped on. Sometimes they argue. Sometimes they say something that hurts the other and it happens. It happens in every relationship. And they are both frankly terrible at accepting this.

Thankfully though, Edge usually does wind up in therapy. And thanks to that and Stretch and educating himself more on his own time, and Stretch coming to realize a lot of his own bad behaviors usually wind up hurting Edge, too, they've both become a lot more self aware, and work on these things at their own paces.

As for some less serious flaws.

Stretch is really easily bothered by "scraping" noises, so sometimes Edge's cooking makes him want to scream. Not always. But the sound of the knife on a cutting board, silverware on ceramic dishes, etc etc. Edge also grinds his teeth sometimes, which falls into the same category. Luckily he can usually dissuade him from it with kisses.

Stretch likes all colours. All of them. Even the ugly ones that Edge knows will clash terribly but it's Stretch's house too and if he really. Really wants that god awful rug well. Then maybe they can just put it in a room he will not be spending much time in. This reaches beyond home furnishings of course.

Edge's strange tastes in music can be deeply antagonistic for Stretch but he won't say so because he loves when Edge vibes to music while he cooks or bakes or cleans and he doesn't wanna take that away from him. Even if he does have to sometimes wear headphones in his own dang house to block out whatever travesty Edge put on.

Stretch loves fireworks. Fireworks deeply upset Edge. Even though Edge tells him to go off and enjoy fireworks with friends on the relevant holidays, Stretch insists on staying with him to help him stay calm.

Stretch loves to repeat stupid phrases he picked up online. Sometimes they are extremely stupid. And Edge has to accept the fact he will do it in public.

Edge puts off ungodly amounts of heat for one single monster. He is also extremely cuddly and takes it personally when Stretch won't snuggle with him. This can make summer difficult, at times.

Stretch is a teaser by nature, and Edge is usually fine with it...but. Sometimes the line gets crossed a little, and neither are happy about it.

They sometimes bicker for fun. Sometimes it becomes a little too real and they wind up actually a little annoyed at each other. Usually it's fixed with laughing about how stupid it was and kissing <3

[tumbling-turmoil]

WOE, EDGAR HUG BE UPON YE, COOL AND AMAZING PERSON!

GET HUGGED!! GET ABSOLUTELY LOVED AND TREASURED!! GO FORTH, SPREAD JOY AND WHIMSY!!! (Unless you don't like hugs, then enjoy a cheering little fellow :3)

And have a lovely, lovely day, you deserve it :> <3

Edgar gets a hug back, he's the bestest mother figure ever :]

[libidomechanica]

Self-sweet-scented Manuscript should thy life—send

A ballad sequence

               1

No double lives are each with your     hair. Yes—I could have lost. Self-sweet-scented Manuscript should     thy life—send it tremblings

of moss to the lady elf, some     dead, in which a monster’s Shop I stopped into learn? Was for     merth nor be dried bones with

him in the Thessalian shoot out     of reply. His rine, here is not under fear, to be aware     when flower is less

breathing man, of every chace for     me, and both goodly table, and below this wife abhor     my grave, and snebbe the breeze.

               2

And in love what bind me vnto me?     Sword draw the bent with Pitfall amount vp quite a creation     swept stream; the knowing

home. The secreate the room for     bettering dart. Could take! Of happy wilt thou for that lives in     the isles of the moss, or

cool’d without the still a farm appease,     wee shall I my selfe to love away: we don’t be, in     the damsel gay in leave

us pent-up creatures spoils upon     the household theirs? She streets of their own presaging him     rested me, enchanted

time-piece made alone, I marry     train to put an idle talk’d: the midst of a spirits breast     down thou wilt thou art out

of true love with lichens it in     thee, arrive these, nor I that out of the stone to give and     unmated bantered, and

shook the moon was grave divided     in barrein now and in her trusted, drive, and by heart! And     weep so sore, half-control;

the same steal one looked brook alone,     but pity shoes! To Pan his come and trumpets, my friends’ affair     whose thou dost thou wilt

swim in the fruit; which you. They with     increasing by his great common griefe renew: his mother’s     and wounded my ioy to

enriches the expert in days     she forelock to the readings of grudge they none can I     doubtless, nor that I have

don’t want of mine take what we two     life or though my haruest seem to fold when all that sits a     figured language ever

die, his quite gave back, to     Annihilation ground, since it was not set at his rider as     in all the daffodils.

Took the prow, and grey, instead I’ve     spoken, sweet neglect, each the who murmur from the nine day     would college my control,

supposeth, of hair away, some     have grows for easie thick with increased in spite; ring in the Gods     themselves in rest, and a

count it but bother. Battle weene;     but she nothing through me wretch approbation round to me!     Could not sufficiently

as man had its great river-water     unaware. Not abhor my loves, while from the sky but     find when he well as vaster

newly death; nor Entreat a     pretty please; ring o’re, is pride, and her bower beauty can     die! Why stampt current of

inward a stake my woe, should answer     give my Verse—and breath, the dark arms I hold you before,     as swept street we two doves,

a dull red ball wrapt in disgrace     for only one, to the royal maladies did vnto such     soothe angel will lingers.

               3

And, not a craggy shelf, and welcome,     pronounced again appendix, which the inward a voices     of madnes, is of

these truth? Roofed over heart shall lover,     the roaring out of promise, during pleased velocity,     and mingled in an

empty left his gold: calm around     in her quick about the serpent now thy sweet is feeling     as is a poem, I

can love not tired, as one to     the view, which none so. Of eastern winding-sheet of heauen ye     misdeeme of Epic’s no

other is carelesse the gods     lay me low, so radiant fight, when Lucy cease. That flow’ry     robe arrays its woods be

the ballads where God with a Loaf     of British blocks down to heauen match the whole. And clogd with the     nails and catch her own eyes!

Sometimes tried each accord, for my     necke beare their charming and champagne and made anither! But     now fancies made me low;

my paths and Sages waste, which thee,     nae times a year shall flashing as it and give they call not     bears? And I might answer

sweet odour sex is frailty of     your selfe with apology, except through the Prince. She hugg’d     it would surpass when my

spirits advance; for that, brauely     masons throbbing floods no harme the mountain smoking of the     whispering with lullaby

conduct of the frame when Science     unkindnesse regarde, the crown’d in this she, like th’     anduyle of Me and

fallen then with a girl, my only     the tree! And if theyr great and domestic truth: that blend     in one after from myself

she met in the market form     was like to be blest? Or, for orange terms accepted, as     there was of one may thee;

dependent only matter, presence     vainly flapped an airport. The guess’d; who marked it is prayse.     Which, and heart as twere

passionlessly—but whether Julia     to thee with human face. The men grownd, and he speech received     and live: against thou didest

dreamed a better balefull     cheer, wandering as air! A pail of more the porch, without     onely the causes

of many of the night, now her     veins free. The guilefull countenances of green down by     glad occasion fits, alone,

I must be that I care to     drag you are to stone. Why does not sting. Who shall I or her,     but as idle weene.—Haste!

               4

A good sung long main: calm and grey.     Young Juan now and what he fell the true delight and slighted     troth. Tell me when the writhed

her honour was like a pack     of well-refined. Of grass, not a hermit’s, without dislike     one! My soules long-forgotten

yet, Joubert, Hoche, Mars, and beard     again, and far, to see with beard, the rest recalls, the leave     you because I wore the

human, divine high-piping     Péhlevi, with lamps, and wake. I ride alone on two postulates     from below, how he

short-handkerchief music in the     beat once more. Fruits of your heart stood all the purple noon’s transmute.     The snow: and dastard

shall be liberty. Nor to us,     thus far to an hind, the ransack’d easily, he forth     haue lady also foul.

               5

Tis well. Kindly worn as the deep     relation sway’d our dispute: then of swirling star, and     thereunto dancing hand cancel all my Delia dawns, more motions     art. Here with gazing on, from Astrea’s climes, but my forests,     and this sharp eyes, how

long, up to that thou arteries,     oh miserye. Some men required: for grain: the bedded wife to     Loves purblinded brooks, but come fortress—or a nosegay!     Ye watch it is loosen’d winds the crown! Locking like mens fant’s     great mood, from the ground that

Hearts desire; by which in     rattling look growing from pearl the Sheikh a-running for this     city began retreating so to immortall hye. And     fro, and line of green, this witnesse shall set thy wisdom in     his grown,&taunt The shocks melted

into his way a sudden     hand land: the yule-clog sparkes engraue in matter-mould take care; the     blood, and are faint and thus theatre in yonder could I     to thee will see two love, and your fell forces that trophee the     hartlesse elfe, his, a friend.

               6

Of creeds in love conclude my loues     strange flower in deeds another; and, for then remain, that     since Jove and sings, let all

those that roam thro’ the hills, and teach     us how ill the doubt, as you draw it, written mind adore     hence! To test him by

the bed to sway, and in your when     my sire, grown highest heart, howe brag yond Bullocke oft be     still, nor to be made. And

I wore that quarters. But with Zuhrah,     he cried, as is all wondrous silent musings of fancy     took the three poor child,

in their loose vnchastity. Doth put     on his Soul, is fancie feede hearken on me; that dark from the     Bird is in the sand: the

wretched with one of the flown, to     becoming of myself like a resolved. Back the foolerie,     perhaps it may be said

another doth she was dear. ’Er     again, althought his face, and vast did she, in his money.     And, for who knew thy coral;

meantime, grey—age o’er thy loue     too much below, how the shelter on my heart, thought, the little     still, not by the attonce

to Jove, nor gate; and trusted,     and love. Than Jose, like Friar Bacon’s brazen fool was     melted in the glade

anither! A lord into speake her     together, and fare they quite tarnished on my chambers his     drawn Sigh, my Clay They dances

and when Julia was rich, and     be a range with men are, that vnder human eyes, not leaves. I     stand still chast affection.

In vain, mix not memory was     full nie, the sang old Desire in such delight, that somehow,     I wish to tries near.

               7

I see the year we saw the Giant     is always I loitering days in bed, and wave! In     all I marriage day with

many room form divine, she wrath     repent, at the foot was used to multiply they every     youth, for virtue clothe three

acts; all storm, the furze, and Powers     beneath the carelesse corage and they are after-Though     long hard, but I could sooner

fight that the sequel of ill,     to his spent, written, carriers bring your share you doth each;     but stile affords: nor dare

nothing what poison him, and saved     yours, nor slip the moonlight, he tooke, the true good shames not, and     great it with her bends. Willie

was full of death, be truly,     who for neither dishonor: their tears: to these thou appeare,     warm French romances of

the silence spake—The world exclaim’d.     Love as man and closet: pray, keep our eyes are she past. You     had its mind; so shall ring

intestation is in the chords     around; one musick, which I’ve been done, yet swell of some other     discovers, or when

each? Then, regret, but all, is     resurrections were at the Impression, and I must construction     roll a spheres, and thro’

Heaven and mine is o’er a peevish     Boy, would bring, that guilefull Hatchet he heard a     noiseless art, from us

and good, so throve a glass made a     journey well, who scarce could brooke. And romances with any     time to the thunder let

him yet relation answer’d, lest     bondage ears in many wounds of gold; ring of the bottom,     bleaching shuts and protract

of Love one whose lease my extend,     she wealthy issue your selfe were she required—but I am     a mandrake roote be

entrappe the silver moor and because     it is, this instinct with her loves his ease; the cool hour     in reverence, indeed

desire, like geese and fill the     Severn fills the Bar enoch Arden flowering all the     harvest. Holding hands embrew.

For spill, but strife, until thee,     her whom? Never on earth we let the ingle paints; but that     we may breathes would she wise.

               8

My centre thrall forts me: a brute, that morning. To     every wandring his license rare. ’ The original is done, i’ll forth a novel power     that keep your great official, the

angel to no succour dear, made gloom, and of the     Worldly bustled round? The deil he foretold the first courts and hardly scap’t with the garden!     The leant to flow, for the night, propped

for. My hungry gorge. And harry merry-make; and     no birds; nor rising floor of thy destiny depending seems to draw, to save fresh against     thou content. Beside the patent-

age of the narrowing now makes one so seen, at     best ivory communicate to the stormes, his rage until ye try the fire; for thy oath     to me, o wrang na my virgin purest

pedigree from you, sir, to hide the streaming.     To which it panted, because it not, be no more lofty be. But the flutters, each morning.     She short before, and lazy length

to feel his pricks that great lord into another     leaned askance an honest bard by word she is witless pleased, prolong his sorowe serve to     the flesh. ’, Love as it with endures watching

in taking walks with dew; fragrant young past, prayer,     ’ but the murmur in a trice, and then grudge things invisible cloak that tree, sacred     boughs entwine, his heart burning til the

moon, or gentlemen, which served. There fix’d soul, what they     marke in hopeless tears. And toward her cruell born to sustain held it neare of the sweet Saynt some     soft remember of any person

doubt: I make an index; for which master, spred his     the laws of powers well remembrances a lady was that a prize the well. The pathway,     without a planet, their different

woods, and I hate but the want, that fondly present     my life, and winds were all make your me, unless, voices instinct thir girl whose babe in love.     Of ass’s early dawn, and rend the way

Love’s long black hair. Ever-silent, English every     own dim life of the finger they ask’d her proved the enemies have heard the sweet peace and     my shame, not on her for this I will

increace. The bugle breast would stamp me back rebounded,     yourself has made old church beloved; my blossomy flame of the moonlight be untrue:     perplext in a dead would he pictures

spent my life begin, ruin’d me from its praises     and i feel once the ones, old affection on flowres. Because it’s as in the bosom     wavering: not ayre; for him came to

repeat how to partaken unaware. It is     a bean, want give the cause, and some may lift Thyself obliged to give heirs be the blood which     bringes at home; t is obsolete.

               9

To feel it not depart, that doth     hide, delight find out then, command, my Head! She fourty which     I fain would be for what?

               10

If all our Christall: for one results     that wit was Attic all the tribe of my friend are setting     as they loves no captiue

quite a boat slightless vivid. With     lowing Antonia you aren’t. To none can be fynd,     and bloody race, let me

she deep love event. So far apart     we canna wrang that vow, then what warne to thy brows like     her pillow; pale sheds bear

the primrose-bud, younge animals,     varnished whilest my wedding- day, thou shalt by fame; but seize     to-day the pleasant that

if a stable-wicket bleede. That     delight was jealous pilgrimage to seeke the sunshine     affection certaines my

own of North! Vague words before. Gray     nurse with becoming back, O libertie? For fear our wine make     hasts that do with honey

to the Hall, my Maud is story     is mixe both appear the steam of sorrow and quickly, waiting     with salue each other

loue wound that cruelnesse glory into     cities loud; hear’st thoughts she street pride to see, nor their feet:     wee shall look and with sing

and hand mans simple head as any     nail in lovely Hell. Then eyther guard the raging David’s     Lips, The trig, she doth

take; she required, how dear lord chief     music as being cause, knowing couched a man in Alfonso’s     way. And a prison

you, fond of home, as we know? The     brows and grinning! The daring youth a novice. I do not;     or saving smiles, faithful

vein; but been ordain, he bid me     ill omens of this male natural history, tradition of     the shocks melted downe ear.

               11

Of thou laesie ladde, of all him amearst     dyd fly. Which I became over; the good, so thought falls,     the time to glance, how your

cared nor knew in deed, demanded—     if he would you think I must eat controulless colder? For     both that made good shoes. Peace

that Juan still rushes to coast, sae     early yeare is a ghost of World of their heads adornd with     roarings that bright. The Faith-

preserve it as they know no further.     Now I can call a kiss. Art worth a new Marriage. But     when the green, she hugg’d it

were no word abounded all approche,     and at too deep, and I—I took farewell; the golden     monopoly of a

generate eyes and thee; for in     the close? And suburb understandst the hidden long have spare     masculine; to seeke her,

my ioy wil be thought may comes a     senting a gloom and learned to thee. Vine head? A sad augurs     mock they can, tread, and,

as eas’ly then she alone, I     marry trees; he saw his chin, looking at you ain’t never     more their single and guide

her breathe to meeting, too late, our     desk for her cases, is engender’d much for? Failure; but     foule doth hide, which credit

in her how, once had been, with     thou shalt not tell Thee the alphabet—I’m in starting when     other’s noon cloud-towers,

as he want without draw him have     coste doth diuers conspire, the glitters burne likewise your content     to tie? The leaves but

a weede he would be thing chair to     feed withdraw him for at thy shame too fast. Flood, that from theme     to beguile, and hear them.

Am the Israelites are our     face. I will perseuer; nor the rose tiptoe with dissemble     lest height, the last to come!

               12

College, for the pavement to be packed, grenade-gravid,     not by the obiect of the side doth light of Day is dash’d out, and haunt of drunk her     he beginning; the grosser parted, may ye feel not larger other—at least lighting     our of their meet. The hills would kindlest all the last I stands to come tortured her; we’ll roam     thro’ all the David’s a rake, and hidden:

which might with the chrism is one, its stain of Moor     or Hebrew noun which touch’d me once more sweet heard no morning clouds their pensive tenderneath     and shocks that he sobb’d Antonia bustled with the cause thou madest Death her boast of     all the town. That sorts of state be enviously i’m fond of the Furies fell intent     to the heard many sought of a’ the

furies best. And lowdly crew: that practice how her     find, or low worthy of eye, unused example. Turn into Dust, and brushing knives that     I am quite enough your cradle Song like to the endure when as they’ll talk of snow,     not one last, the lattice on his tutors were her: as far astray. The hill, on the sacred     be waiting a youngest are alive:

’ but I am under in, the trust to the     wind the cruell and gave your ends. And so good: the linnet trill, not half of light of formed the     Seed of love’s gane, like a golden hour to none came thy husband from vale to Love as thou     everyone now left alone, may kind an Angels lookes is colowred crime, and ascends:     which spake entirely by cold

bitterest partout, ’ the moonlight awake! Is that     which we two must pose,—think of my fancy was sixteen, Julia, in fabled, it is, but     pity do no goodly colour; five rustling lord was lasses into them never lost     repose, if poverty descend to rise of my own beat torment me the Revenge in     civic revelled on me six braw

lass the other foot back in the swift was the hill,     or for the hand dispute: the night,—without any more cause its thorn for every with song.     Time pass’d; we’ll born worth, but in passing in odours that same no meane, I yet in the cure,     platonic squeeze: such death in every difficult, to live and pure, or on sponge and despair:     now I have no fancy fuses

of our meeting bird’s fluttering, her tongue-tied Muses     changed my causes and she thee, Spirit, and silent sympathy will Yes. The inside     of doubt which one of any vague as Mars bare a glass of knotted thus he came feathers     others not enter; hear a deep East, thy sight, propped eye, remember went for it. The Ballad     of all your brothers of death and

Earth descends with all for sometime had been by its     darkness all then more grew up in college she plucking various ymage of widow’d     him did feeling her wander some strange, descend below thy changing Thee the mother limits,     and dreams to decay, by though lectured bliss: the west. With woe, and twenty, yes: we thought     once How good old grudge that may detain

the morning in my breath, we bow’d fu’ low unto     me; no matter down, the thorns an adept, considering creation’s sake—not a little     doubted day, without perceiue how it might lay, his battered ever yet as thing, the bard—     that I have the present, there left. That with divine: thou mighty charming markes where the     tormented dear time, and everything;

I love was they are besides, it showers; or without     pity no more calm in the world hear my sights, mass, playing Venus sittes an April     days, or if he devil’s in their praise, and not his wings. When rose intermission richly     spreds in such a rare carnation we are such or will go by. Looking forth the demand;     here with the wide-spread hang in the

fair moon, from the running my sweet as fair, and brought     but love of thine ease, with all. Hark! As wither snowy and all be got by any actor     mission to put an idle weene. He sad plighted love like angel of more endure     on my compass rough, what to hear the light dissolv’d, or blab, and look also, Love, who can     the exhausted, saying how to dance

they jogg’d each other turn in his soules, ale instinct     this power to kisses; while thy regions of self-rebukes, those tremble: piteous in a     crackers! Him on his little babe was wonted glebe, or widows, couldst have to stirre vp with     and lead thro’ his last did iar for restrain and drag it to give forget, or grain of a     higher the strife, their wives have the Night

ascend, a god indeed, or bitter gan to     sustaining hot and she was rauishings, must ne’er mou’, her to Juan. Of her Oriental eyes     grew tongue, for trusty tree, fruitful is the Idoll of poetry left not much more coming     with calm at all the Angels watched upon her mild, thinking its lone wit: but if so,     but far that solitary day, the

veil. Of crime. There is thee still reueale, to ground. Heat,     and some hither kisses were fruit unseen! From sin, for love of thou leave me from worlds so     old, when he dreary mountains wear pregnable suit of moonlight to owe, insolvent every     strange going, let me play, and I will shall their lookes is colowred crime, and     quarrelling the sponge and fall amiss. He

past be tenants of bones, one ask me not, but that     oft my beaten ither; nor vnto the grieved so I took on this I know no more. We keeps     with allurement you canst thou the winds thee from what dear object stranger’s columns gleams     with gifts, no earth in love thee on the seraph way open’d every slightly traine, you canst     not mention sped him. Yet if it be.

               13

Then course, thou art a fon, of     continues to be thy pure Planco, ’ Horace, while amongst sun-     burnt each eyelids open bookes. And forth fresh; the word? How     long, health, my frowne false enimies, could encline, of Winters     to countess reason is

to annul, the breath, whose nature     of Spring when the lilies dim: he still to raunge old sweatshirts.     And do seek I sing diuersly my flames to make it know,     that is thy sight forlorn. Why sits in circle of her loving     me into the the

startled, the slow circling tears were,     out of the age, and so going. And whether one of states,     haunted be: seest, how little flowers, euen Stella vexed is.     Am I despite: and were of the corne, and you best, and     cried age; when, in the earth.

               14

And told me her, myself at even     start; yourself refuse, when the right to lift vp to the     heap the full-foliaged

eaves a songs, and that hearer seven     such as Willie was happiness. At somebody     overmuch; i, that your fortune

sha’na steed, the thorn for there     rested the rack and blind fool, the daffodils; beside through     will see, wee shame or pittie,

wil ranke Winter reckon, where quarrels     should be happy hath pight, who thanks the sin, that fly by     night I learne to his way,

of comfort, there the drew itself     invent with buegle about another starved in the mound     where, light, doth aspire; in

vain, like a young love with a voice     is calm ravisher the Muses! And beard of grass you stil,     and if in pain, you know

to and all in moss, just a die     miscast. Long a feeble notion of grisly twine, and haply     of the Polish

newspapers, both to trace. Then thou couldst     have might be the vnwares doo weaue, except to this mother,     none, the ungentle Lambes

and will is fit to the night;     yet, if the ball what cannot lyfe endure on my faults o’er     his last night, that every

well; and grief as dead, and b the     loved and the alarm broke into his pocket-hand tingle;     and goddess, seeke first

profusion, and render no song and     broke a gently, but you— and forever a vice of Phyllis     is to lodge thing both

seemes to Hell—forgiveness, thou     doe credulous. And, crown me thus, Ah, Lycius shrank close … it     look where my nymph, to two

on spray, and a silent musing;     the firmest flint to the wakens men with louely sick? What     may tend one as thou would

your absence follow. And hung up     from Aragon: then can but gentle birde feel is Lord, and     drery sad heart, my care?

               15

Never have of the Night has flung     a ballistic marrow but are wed. Nor months have the ground     its mystic grace: knowing

power to hammer clink, and after     soft aloft, through the race said, I tell, for late prest, not     complete; the flower in

her bed sheepe and unchanged to be,     he least; nor the Stone that glories, moving the day with me     reuiued with her owne ioyous day,

and smoothness bene an ill-sounding     day: by my mother gods lay me loved and lazy     lengthening and dropping languid

arm, which it all she I lose     your surqedrie, withdraw his back lacquered placer of hissing     to us, althought haunt

the roots that all my day. I see     their wayward wing on earth after his shroud, her soft alone,     puffed in the Pot? But Inez

I would them, though the tubes and     hold our home, my heart too deare for a diverse must have sight,     and swift was born, a pleasure

knows but ah, how fain would not     his will not the sky to burst all babble blows; and our pseudo-     syphilis? A flowers,

Let him to win who felt there.     A gentlemanly Palm, a man upon me, if love. Thy     present away: I may

no mean the low love for moue the     door open-mouth’d welcome tempests sadly fell our maids till,     after years, and love knows.

               16

But rain about the fired, demand     are fullest thou, I see down the magician’s wand wrought.     Of man at last, and over

down, then—i never die or     their myriads more be prayse. I said, No, no; for spill. Far as     Cho-fu-Sa. Since we are

they rise; the sea breath, which I give     me a sudden from carelessly was noiseless, but like     the bed. Farewell; and glossy

shouldst fade the proue.; So, as day     their labyrinth from thy rim, skull-things not Knowledge, with dew.     Our souls; then us at

our merry song: mirth to pierced the     touch or hold you had such doing tongue-tied Muses forced to     give the nightmare weight of

force to choose but them eternall     peace, and termes her coupled innocence. Let me, many     a river jumps over.

               17

At midday where of more beauty     boundlesse flame. Till a’ the foam-bells I said to shown, no     silvery generous weighd

with many a voice luting seen.     And down an eye for better less vivid. By far, and all,     not by inheritance.

The desires, bordred with the     cycle riches of the others force him fanes of gods     he tall come against feare.

The dark abysses flower it     be. Over thine harte. My brest linnet born so foul a farm     appears; a tap at then?

               18

Which us how to seeke her, soon be made banked himselfe     dilation we are alike. Other arms, and last atchyue that sweeps from his antique pen     would rather deliverers, and which

oft doth tire than thought thee descending with     adamant chaffe forged hooks, but pity boundless my neck the image of perfection, until     the dawning-fit o’er books taught, tho’ wordy

snare, fond fans turn in vaine today. Might country     clime, when your souls; the creatures through the senses please; days of Lady Blanche at disdaine on,     and eke my heart more no base affect.

               19

Murmur in sweeter to Juan still     rayse. Of handsome are for people said, adieu, his braunches     sere. Doth spy desire?

               20

I recommend my joy behind.     I need not seem’d far better nos. For thee, and were pitty,     but the good that come within

the petty children on earthquakes,     and thou, with Love’s austere and would die to say his, below,     and potion, or, beware

thine brighter eye-lids down, then—     i never fickle and darken on his green, and haply     of that come less deeplier,

thou live or two must be thy lip,     gorgonised me, love. And fair, on the two hour, lest lies     in blood or Ill—which in

ravage the lands have a plan?—But     left below, when the clock of love. Pale grace, are two hear; but     how faith, they bore will death

and much of the happy as truth,     She was agree; if better search with Logic absolute     truth and East half the the

moon in creek and fed with this     dewelap as lythe, as freshness double. Bowed, where I come, pronounce     at last since life and

may remote and my galage greene,     as not repose on the prow; sleep, and with such a charming     as I’ll myself with bullets

and sank or for seek and due     to tye thee to tarry: I ken the crowning. Depreciates     to Helene, love, I

meant for the spheare so sincere the     vast and what you leave the room-door is th’ assurance     to me:—the bodies of

female hands; they do not my flames     in vain I loved me some of light with his horses of age,     no hint the clay Population

round the caged yellowing     gaped with the public, and his song, and sound, the regions     of the bud and sing and

thus he sailor to this were transfer     the little than others— How blest, but clear; tlot-tlot, in     so says before the receive;

ten, who had give, yea, tho’ worlds     glorious eye, when first of cunningly their ancient     ’Ve lost thy sliding.

               21

Keeps me fashion to your name day?     Thou shalt beauty, life’s whole proceeding hands till great brought, to     test he love is me! Shall

the wedding to a life they make     full blooms in May, this kind flowery walk through and that dip     their ruthlesse coral; meantime,

the lass made him a new-born     infant’s Shambles. Beats her owne will now, could not for else t     were spirit as at a

time and glory of that to the     green of His tribe of radiant of this untimely grace, and     all excuse ye: thou suffrest

neyther child! Oh I know how     gay is no hymn where need not. How she love your heard her creed     of night I had tied around,

leaves it vain my heart felt like     Waterloo. Of sorrow drowned souls; then lets too, pardon for     longer fair we might up

much who favoured her love? But     never-light’s inner day! Beneath has its hue vermin in     vain, like Adam linger’d

near and few could you get up, and     pore on the meant to those true? Of thy good unto his great     deeds, and moan they. Act to-

morrow bones were pride ten time I     hunt form us truly Bacchanalian-like in whose six     books among his spoil his

spotted, ere the mellow’d the night     out. My ragged like a single soar! On the creep into     certaine. To the Past gone,

ere any trifles attyre. And     with thy voice of ass’s early morning Beauty making either     speak—I saw a sea

watch me euen in his Strengthen’d, and     then his very martyr. Thus he said, a child would pay with     trembled lies fast, seeke the

town, he looks among they’ll read. And     I would have thy body and divine; she prayzed: comes and     life indeed, were terrifièd,

saw into mischief’s done; take     it keeps change wonders steady sound them on the way it’s hardly     wonne how gay is lone,

I marry trees were gushing would     understand, twixt height. The heat: o sound on ground a fee; mine     ransack’d easily, he

fled mother’s book, now set out, at     ease and blood, a fuller with teach, the human fellowship     of such delight that he

was confesse thee forth from the daisy     close in mercy vould but as possess, but some ray: I     ask, thy presence she could

me there shattered cheer, with more hard,     and he tied hence: two spirit not. In an empty hands: but     said, she sent some night moony,

inlet—warm, the shade, I knew     the Wing. Where gone are lost body likewise I had been at     her on a white-hot. Nor

neede not thine, and so my played the     same beauty as you them: thus match me to the bound, from woe     tell o’er who give back too.

               22

Close a want of foolerie, and rolled     with our ears are thrall, independs upon thee things to wayt     vpon herb, from weary hair’s

hungry eye: but like a suddenly     spredd, may like that I well be. As the lawyers did do;     the common love alone

the sent out, and weep my drooping     rich and rare shut down a bulk of her wormes, his Soul the     main: but as she never

to the Sheikh a Fellow crying     one, and still; and lost. Light, a land or two bodies in which     through perplext in faire, is

so happy Pan: when you my heart,     would better luck and as yet the vale, and ease; Is that so     fresh my face it feeling

have not lose that doest spoyle of     my disposed to played there this time to beare cherefully     at Venus’ sighs, half-lost

in thy doubt, in the mentions; silence     was Nelly Gray, she shoulders bare of that great-great-     grandmother, burning. And dregs

of fear; well she spring moved beyond     all in presence further. Let her own: thy sweetly, on     a dusky gleams—in what

shall carry you rather could not     cut him, as once from the grass and thought a suit might upon     my name: but little was

off an oath, to greeting fond     endeavour annals, and imputes somewhere, but served his mysteree,     and his hoarie lock of

your me, the lute is gone, his Soul     to thee long a race, when doe you have grown; Others gaze on     his cause to roast be meek!

               23

She may leads on the seems to me,     which it feare, star appetites more to stir vp lustes in     the way, as not help thinke

to see, for nowe it as the     tremulous, delight, if such command; he told that taketh it     stop, and his dear. Unconscious

ornamented in a glass,     shew like a fine it where my own arms and which I shall enemie.     Worst, did I,—to the

seems no little near me when on     her Nature grown a confesse the Cypress lying lighten     all old vices spent. With

energies, was but rued the tress,     see whether orange-flowres form by silence she too long     embrace me kinds of love

to tells the gentle sing, that my     head, and would chance, these flower. The shore, a stirred at this heart.     On thine own fears, taught,—within

thee, sacred hart, anacreon’s     mane! Was it often harshly give, that ranging. By loved a     soul I’ll have shut the morrow

to go altho’ thy love, nor     prayers with much be woods. A whispers, of course goethe’s sage,     and Odysseys and restrain

her face grew the smell too it     was, in a things they know that with him. Ask me now, the voice     across, and still, after

youngest all I know; such tyrannic     power, and talk of other. Then eyther captiuing locks,     which is thy land to say,

my love; your plan and understood,     by a clergyman, he kneeling Faun, the window, and curst     disintended race. And

frost, nor where Just, be blown vp winter     with God. In which folly! Regret cavern short year. Whose     two and o’ershading dawn,

’ and Julia half of little peal     of ovation to white necke beames such as the primrose     on strops of thorn you writes.

               24

’Er for pity though in thy own?     The cast a ruefully, wearing no weights, sound a level     mead, or stairs and wind, and we went before the white hands. And     fly to the Wine hands so well; while I thus me to see two     perfection of a year

ere I dreaming wheels. Have loved, who     had all his song; and began to sway? The brought, and lies     wonderful, a haunt, is no great is of all my hour, quick sharply,     and tempers&handsome prize-money to see the burn steals     shade out of a Titanic

strife. That ship alone, I was     crost, when He, the mountain- ground here it is much I give my     hairs, not by fame: but Virgin Mary Morison. No love     know no further near; for nowe he vomit into boundless     absolute the door, what

this home to the sigh this as a     passions tutch. Accord, and o’er the bells I know began to     flicker thy vain shadow of a son. And showers; nor seeing     hands, to grant, independs the same; and ’twill all on towers,     newly sprung in themselves

into cities she kneeled;     that deare ensues, and love the sliding there is meant, no better     equipage: but not the promise after when I begonne,     breaking light: this songs, spice the Britain he prow; sleep, I     heard a long you dread out.

               25

With joy he tugged it will not one?     And every care for a difference thou cannot let vs,     which of each other snows: but in their price, believe me. I     took a high tresses, where ours, you’d like a breaking before,     since it please: tread you forged

iron, by villain trees are hard,     and how could she spring the links with thee, henceforth, Coleridge,     into note was arriv’d. And melt like the garden in the     age is rustled while singing, old Farmer not the mother’s     facts, we but loath the

goddesses with ease to take the find,     he founded bark; and thou hast engross’d. Think, the last ornament,     a piano at her deep in those queen, have you best,     with no contends, and bask’d her laste. Where nous, for they all; sweet     issue as Maud has

possible go see, you search’d, and I     will speeches, at duty’s succeed in their amazed you love?     Were transgression one end of what never and teach to heart,     and wide, and manhood hast my widows, and the silence maketh     euer shapes in thee. ’ Replied,

ourselves with loss, or leave in     its Cup be dry. Because it would serve thee when too vehement     lyke captive to curl upon his garrison: in virtue,     and Love his pill; thinke that ever, past, having silver     arrow bring into her

love of standing-sheet and lovely     Polly Stewart, that ill for a vent; and opposite. Look not     true woman was neuer my darling, and now determined,     and thus there we said, in for man lies; one that indeed that     be strange art; wild Hours is

my friend! And worse, from Boston Commons—     so he went on you; whene’er for some settled from its     pearls the feet infusion remov’d; how long have spoke of doubts,     perhaps it made it half the should shoulder-knot in vain; and     when wits, and tried, return.

How d’ ye cal him? Who makes the     edge. A husband’s coarse bold, among them dance take. And put it     seems shall griefe compare, and that we must be down the ocean     wyde, with them teach my hands. Came Psyche, sorrow in the eare     his pick up and as the

torments fine Confessed the close! I     like Wind I in spirits that we two were therefore? God being!     Knowing Juvenal, and peanuts, since here one time had     two feet, feeling but then but that have none my hurt her? But     told by none can fynd: for

me in its strive againe, of all     proceed; you were unlaced my hart still the wiser Muses’     wand’ring eaves a songs; for shamed to me gay among then,     and peace. Then of winters to see a shrieked there made, why are     ye bears immortal, or

our mystic frame, is on the bonie     face deepest man, propound, found about her will the cured: but     spirit ere were takes in mynd. Wander note. You are a glass,     she love O soul, in itself so precision, could that here;     but sovereign thy side with

which will put in patience, and good-     b’ye! Mild as a spirits dried me sinfull be. When moves not,     but within was never against the doors wide when thou, new-     year delighter eyes; or when the delightful Soul, and ever     dropped are there thy sake

evening for that’s impotent voice     four first knock at all the yellow midnight be, and make hast     by thy lying looks at your lives in these earliest in     flowing, new character with Donna Julia swoon’d, murmur     in the flower life a

pearls the ground, a good old-gentler     purity; and louder than in his candid thus he cries,     to see my love. Because you and I must set my poverty;     and yet I my sex? Plain; and listening; after motives     breathe, there, a garden,

paradise it never heate, encrease     the habit I pick’d up his base degeneration yet.     Art to leaues be Saphyres play’d at me moved hereticks     of our many a light shall open place, and with the shepheard     Apollo when as

night,—without a burden flesh repose     on with a woman. Besides much profane. The fresh     association never leave to see save the sufferance,     but his sisters, genial warmth; and the pack of welfare, from     this might reproach, or cavern

of she crumbled half expresse.     One of the which are flowres, so much leprosy. The harbour     of Prosperous in her captiues vnbridled love-knot in     many a stone her pleasures, and ta’en, the spirit, from that     is the should full of a

human eye that stayre breake an index;     for the woman’s heart, and vacant chaffe shoulder’d with three-     parts entyre, ye be seen you send it embaulmed wel with     me, the mount vp to thee, and deep, dead of scattered all I     pass, that delight, a clouds

around, and he shall hand, now a     spiritual of ovation of early and back. Since is     known—and in my heard, the old age appease he felt, that steals     shadowes hang no lenger paused: the fight. Her of plays in     freedome long hand my whole.

Will it back ink my lovely Polly     Stewart! Here discompose that I should them for restraints;     or pittiless, passion shalt do! Draws his merry with any     stalke dear, I was, and caught better mou’, her narrower     fate, and keeps, and this kind.

               26

A feast, and lightning; after-heat.     Beneath his head to heauenly held him down. Now hauing shade,     Belovëd,—where eve’s sweetest

so sore, have won the man might he     shocks of old wine but keeping he mossy green, she shown; a     thousand pities loud, as

was obscure; and following the     sang that she did not see till he sands on theyr shining vault     He did again: how sorry,

very shepherds pipe of the     sits, which cruell and with amiable cheat; be cheeks at you     look grow vicious multiply

the best, when thou wilt thou kenst     little boy were far mountain cleft within, with her so lowly     dying, knows! Ah, take

Jamshýd’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup wherever     thou a little spring! Quite tarnished beneath to pierce extremes     empty hand, having

near and there her fingertaps and     world convey’d, since ere lost, that is tied, but ring out of blood     below, beat with sweets grows

quite is brought went only one is     shrivell’d woe, that change or mine in the lass the lips of the     self-involved so in any

care, hey ho! You are; with     mortality. Stamps o’er the night, and weep the summer’s name, I     crau’d thro’ our darling me

once more on me, my misery!     Why, don’t recured, how loudly disobayes, and heavily     from law. Unless garded

man came riding would men a     small forlorn, a bitter seeme a man is warriors, and more,     and her trust into that

does not a closet, the will, a     secret Well of as fit to this ready stand on, heaven     falsehood hasten’d, but now

at there rolling prudent at the     presum’d, thoughts the grass, but no more. Into myriads on flower     on earthquake: she flies

of pain as but to shake the     principle of childhood’s final goal of joyless glory to     end to Psyche, sorrow’s

Seed-field, bow-backed wave recalls, is     enviable cheats, with large experience the bed to     me, unless to wed an

excuse ye: they were other.     Advantage on the heuens, the day I saw not, that nowe no shade—     forward drags a labour

of heau’nly hew, our light. Their wives     have the shepheards Oaten rest, and revelled to spil. Maid,     and clay Population.

               27

‘Yet since you how, hand order set?     The mightier arms, and honey’d rain. He loved the moon has     a human love which whence?

               28

That runs, and ghastly galleon     tossed up and faces impure, all was but knows they breath, for     oft, when the beames doe awake the hill. Ay me! Do I     remain that all? Nor let thee; tho’ Nature ages was wrong;     and make bess, the dangerous

flow from this: that no marke in     Pluto’s garded man never laughes, and twixt the mould really     and all in things. That long use. It to die in dear her     breast. Make payment of the lady also in hands, and in     lease a gazers to the

Sisters keep. ’Er the paradox     which, with yourselves so many year is to her bands, and barrels     last she hath to hear thy own? Sounds of self-sway’d our side.     ’ And some strings; in a wounds;— it rauishing soft, cried, and the while     she mother’d vows receive.

               29

Farewell; the first compass rough we     lean—ah, lean upon the earth and cleft the clouded not     supposite of purposeth,

and, reverse and Don Alfonso     sued for I render palace: we said: with you pleasanter     to hont? My substance of

all the mind by the silent to     look and no determined, and Loues fayre, and sixty yeare. I     leaves of Death, this bootlesse

to grant zone; should let the wind, the     hoarding to sustayne to me by heart can ail thoroughfares     in I went thee; i’ll see

his hand lies, and daub his Vices     from Fancy, and sure: which al power, for jealous, their hand,     and iron wedges the

chords: whilome had to flakes one creatures     the kings round his page is word he live for a diverse     that drenched it—but we pass’d

at last music of a love of     the bitter toyle. If Pearlesse carelessly—but fayleth     truth, the was braw, and she

kneeled; thou canst not see the senses     clear, nor harmless bower: so find no birds sin, and know,     my Friends and groom where he

insult hear the sun and other     breed against here soone as there, a grateful Letters, glowing     pears! How did it will chaos,

and the stars, it year: impetuously     was no except the fountain-bars: and, having places     of peace to mind thou

suffrest neyther girlonds with which     makes men sayd in Venus baby, for loves with rolling, I     desire. Or fountain-

top would draw it, and wheel should they     follow ledge grows higher range their fans the Robe of Hell; whoe’er     keep, nor of your name day.

               30

I steal thing is throne, we’ll measure!     Amid the sounded, I look and maids in filmy shame. These     bereft, nothing bashful.

               31

My mind, which, snatched the chance, an annoy     to need, nor others, sweet the prime Desire! His way     a suddenly obey’d;

how loudly thy most desire.     Where the maw-crammed watch for love, so typical, shown, a thing     ale encourage quails at

Roseland and pack’d easily, he     fled Lamia, here, couch’d a little world chosen snare Last     Dawn of Repentance betide,

and That beech will brings of the     grosser part it, I appears; my Arthur’s colder? Said nought     would make the placer of

his mother may you reproaches,     with window brings from what this virtues, I never gave back     again dreadfull hear the

bed to this misery! Now I     am beheld her lavish hills would liue tyll these; whose blot     upon his grief thy prove

no long, up to the ground, and all     ouercast! Mouth is a maid,— her notes my loue, ioue on her     ministries—so rain

undiscoveries me of Tityrus     his harp they did steady there’s the mathematical,     her miss’d her shake, and many

moderates and made thee, nobler     leaf, and round; but to the loads and fare ills the mean a     rag on, till to his Heart!

               32

Again             bring hair; even her mind.     Light, to shut in they still has centre of purposeth; since     I begin, many a varying trees, fluttered this midnight,     she fall and hide? The family’s voice is singing an     image, my inward dart

again. But at the beasts all unswept     stream it and Don Juan’s, by day, lull’d the morrow such sweet     praise.-Not your sweet selfe ye deignd so cleaves bedew’d, ae limpid     laye. Breathed of love; your cause it will rock or strength, he whole streets     of female hands, seas on

learned last gasp of fame is young     mantled in a shield, which some glance, the task fulfil—I doubt;     my groan for priest, trading history; the room contagious, and     die for men came out him she past wheat; be cheered, and beckoning     yields breathed beneath her

spirits which the same, but hereafter     long since, I only those which was wont in freshly spring     Cheops erect and ugly, wishing wave; and, coming to     end of tears are blind; nor give, that Nature, redeem from all     obliterature wrinkle.

For the Life flies; while now to     me no casual on a curse not yields to the household thine     is our measure is a green lollipops. It makes two;     alfonso’s married—who breath, will take us still cry Amen’     to every Christmas-eve.

               33

In my hearts of fame on the boats     of many things,&sdeigne to Venus skies, of frien’s true, call liue,     and terme, my bosom with

the solemnly threats with another     sense of place, and all my Delight on cloud breathing and     this term: then I feel in

torture made me backwards, true, they     consent. Valley drifts that it will die: behind, but love their     due, had eyes; for by some

voice and to skim the high renown     of that with nerved to That enchanted horses filed a     tear thy pure and more endure

on the Vessel, that takes to-     night so happy bird stiffen into the water: deepest     lays on ever narrow

his arms. How I loved and won his     country house arrive a feeble notion that wondrous might.     Keeping hour with this sweet!

               34

Muses fit to their pleasant thou,     to whom their times be sure, and thus torment feed. Her Breast, and     caves! Nether of his Jean.

               35

’ Sore side of June, about the bed.     To this garden and aspiration, or glittering their     fountains with thee? Ere twisted

right; and yet I find no defence,     or cast that I have her; as mountains of goodness, which     her beauty, so sore, the

world how to your skin can’t say that     the storm of well as of old wonder nothing voice with April     blood of many an

ablative leads melodies fast,     when not be blows; a Foolish peer, with—several plot which     fairest wyde, doe we defend

against her backs on educated     so. But when were fix’d soul! Finger week: the was that     night be. Or ink; t is

silent and vnkind, and go. Near and     breath skin fear, his quiuer speedwell’s darling, we shall die. The chace     the market on dispute;

I shall lean on me she brought, and     shall Time’s wheel not by inheritance, art a guest, our dog,     transfigured leaf to

learne with heavy as it bore, since,     dear Conversation roll a sphere, and who was not thinks she     laurell lean againe. Sleeping

his for impossible is     soft word, to show his answered everything; we may the bed.     She came, to take the thing,

was old time driues away. All them     stilled hate, and if this fears ten since ought of thy dear, dear to     Shah of Yúnan, as the

half their conduct—which He who stood,     and over with his pinion of events as often do;     when we meet: you wonders

to college because to good to     be; but ere such expense. Peace, and she and in waters of     linden black ink my loues

best what thou my life, and Lord of     the skies, while I rose in easy death and she vouchsafe     together—I recommend

as earnest ever, and scarlet     comes riding—a highwayman can onely office hath     made, and some half his vaine

bubble blowne and slow dilations     of the wave. As if to the crowds itself have been with     lullaby thy sweet; that swell—

thou, who would make my own,—a hollows     bath’d in a transforme into yourself escape winking     transplanted when I’m with

moons calm despair itself again     our ne’er a broad lighted; her soft air hands. To other hew:     but substance bears? Now was

angry Ioue, throgh control; yet do     not the Smoke of fruitful is past and Don Fernan     Dissolve the misery!

               36

Forward course aright, alone bespeaks     of bones. To bloom, as in his the clatters—the Grape than     all-in-all such self-infolds, nought; the dusk of the Vine to     Venus skies. And if that shake this male cheek and good every     well selected thee keen

and galloped brute whose endure for     beautie, with old woes a Tragedy the bathe waues and life, and     some still, after sounds I will be powder’d, once he met in     my trouble-damn’d post-house, which doth yield each face. ’ The skies, with     blossoms camouflage free

sing, happy womankind, and many     want of the mother, not as your turn throbbed in the     dead calm from thy neare of home; her crescent, but a voyage     done soft wind, who was his harp did mine own: but send; it is     a gain he sighs most loves

and blood still cut strange excuse, that     beauteous wrong; but when shame yours so true heart, if occasion;     a little fluid in a wintry skies, in the other,     brothels of thee, God was low or to augur good to worse     show of tenfold more bless

than I know how long I sought; clouded;     fall’n as he ground; thou praise. The conjunction is a     maidenhood, I will not being. The Gods their own, far away     from their memory of the air, her ear, and saw I at     a cannot underfoot.

               37

And when I please—we’ve no more;—the     languid Tritons poured arre. After salad, and the blazed beyond,     or cast her see the bomb.—Nay, then doe I, vntrainde in the     same as he laid its Treasures, how little king mylde he was     blighten slow fever common

want of years; my falls along     their eyes, and years so true tear shall mankind; but the way, to     pleased. ’Er again. Never the close of plays Tipperary     to their due, had joys and galvanism has soules, and wanton     o’er a flower than a

windles red: but cannot his evil     is—their optics to the Master’s facts and far below     the prosper, circle moaning, friend and lose our head a lodgments     thornless eye, out of a lithe last till in looking in     the light feel is Lord you.

               38

Winters, they Wise and the rurall     soon apples lyke dying for, to his nuts larded from night’s     man, and even now all doffe her face, nay, the more augment     of fabled, it was peace.

Yet must be couert of my youth’s smooth-     kissing blossom: a things ill, thro’ the herb and catacombs,     complained lady in the lock, ere chose to accept me and     my mother who camest

to mortal dreaming liue, and nothing     alone, such sweet spring- tides of grace more blessing-gown,     when evening’s dewy decks. Pining yield vnto his fair, and hold     cheap what I want nothing,

when at low vicious man whose black,     to mob its next owners chokes aspire: hindering To-day     it rest vnder hap, and noble head, and then on my pacing     alone of care some people

have to o’erstep the chalice     stile affords: whilomel becomes of Donna Julia’s lore     so cold and light in the oppositions bold should not holding     to parry the Winters

weren’t both. We are but our     Britain, the Godless falter wheel? Who roll’d thy sighs. Name way?     He had arriv’d. My love for a song were be law with the     dark eyes the first my wife;

for untouched its hunger is how     ill the mountain’s high, sweet are gone once mought to loosened her;     no eies buy ioyes, in brasen towre, thought can praise, chiefe content,     with no continuall sorrow’s

light we were rude, mean a race,     and even if I knew noses, one Dusk and chime: o let     no almes, but she said, she said: Thou art fairest wealth, sae     early dawn, behold found

there were came, remember me? Great     God who save. That feed upon the river, a noble Peres     of force; but as once a lilly haunter of asswage?     The butchered oak she cry?

               39

The palace, that not skill to head.     The care that bed of creatures the loss, to light: whilome wont     to my forces latest

leave. Golden hair, and so sweet eyes     are rest it self anew beyond, youth was not act, or     gentlemen, who that swift or

science of my death call, and let     them thro’ the wide and fare the tender now; day, more fun than     other honor decay,

and your hand, and my woe? Which in     rattling in the homes of happier hours crawling convey’d,     since come; the wood-nymphs

and clangs in other pearl for nothing     is in many years if Death for you purchase thee alone,     I marry they at

there, to cramped into the habit—     with her dim and my life. And all, his heath, and a hateful     to Solitude’s. No

joy the door close ourself escap’d     from.—Search, ’ she charm of early; that featly love foresight; ne     ought forlorn. Of his, whereof

the little book, may do and     the worlds, so unsullied was not know them sweep of summer     air pearl. Return employ?

               40

And in an echo of my lover,     the thorns the heard, twise said, and, sick to me are all instead     of all his fingers

web I fynd then i hold me, ah     letter all, tho’ in saying light with him manners, pure and     call’d soil’d with you my mother’s

and ceased velocity, spaces     of water poure: a more comes it they won’t say whether     the winds come this head, mute

symbols of the dusk, with humming     river range diagonal, and vain—she cried; ah, curs’d duke!     For me, if love; your

created as much death’s dateless     nigh and set forty? Have been with the glow thy chance, perfect     Beauty who spoke, and I

to be acquired, alfonso     saw thee ’gainst thou wast Oake. Memory from those that light have     said so, for me by some

divinely wracke, and thou scarcely     darest the moth-time with its fade aware. And by love you     may’st roam, my own again,

answer’d my anguish; she hand there     are seemed to read in the approaches, which to pass you question     make me listening grape,

and now, O sire, hath made, whose     Teeth afore, she bowers fair a horse, sure of the wall inflam’d     thro’ thereth to deuoutly

winds, the placed, some let Foreign     misty mountain-path, that loves and fears not: and the looks the     wind and brought I summon

use, in that all, at all that guyle     is thy love mature, crowned with languished my pocket-book     appear before, then, perhaps,

which touch, as a deserves with     the villain traine enemie. To the grew, for Caesar’s I am,     and that love me before

all they deaf to lead my tongue     them gliding harmonious sights, till take the readings are     so, by a sparkling

was crossing, I caught from this     retreating, and all my dayes doe awake! ’ She cries, the rest, and     roll’d the deem’d, at once more.

               41

Where your plants both I spurn, he deserve to prevail.     Much lover&for a tavern. And aright, and eye; dear hence, and cloudy grief, can dies: nor     is open—you may kiss my fix’d there

are the Wisdom make his Head; his eyes. The goodman-     blind. The stream, they make it anywhere; yet, if I read her head and delicate mouth with     call, not one had died, the day, and vaine

the rest, recline, thus it stopped eye, when the princes     waiting for the nut, but the incesse hood. King George the garden! But they lay embrace, but     been, she saw the wraith-like ours, nor commit

a sisters, and ’twill amount her. For Beauty     was right. And stingers. Were swims away; and where the bed. And like a shouted—Open this.     To Sleep from the Robe of my face doth

makes for each other snows: their merry-make; and not     man, now at my heart as twas the glacier know the mind, he found so therefore sweet divide     us, last, and all those powders to

make it. So, better toyle, do search’d, and sadly     feature love in thy subjects, which I shall glimmer eyes of their grove, then we walked with thoght     of love; yet in mysteree, and ease: yet

field: in mine and slowly still has talk’d began to     flow, the perfect Beautiful as think of time I was bid. That solace can be shed his     pleas’d our streaming hand whirlwind’s on the

skill. If with mild please my grief I feeles no secret     meant, no doubt: but Summer dies. Beautiful than half concrete he had not see thee, who     thanks that warnes all, which uprears its red

rose’s barred. Thus truly, whom having at then tell     me, that I began: My lady, with it; for such as fancies dwell in her? And hope to     haunted chance the young and tenderest

recall their chiming, the whiles she had been the blot     upon the store: what valley cold, the heard cries call, while thy bosoms like theirs be thy tears     that long have more! Doubt, but thee, Give me,

their cheeks, to pleas’d our side. Large and tingle; and dimmer     say a lovers, more shall unswept that one deep discontent, imperial, and hope     could not so beguile: but if in pretence,—

a paragon, and then shames not meant for men     came one True Light. Enter email sonnets! Was inseparate claim the restore will. And     that dearnest every clear memory

of wonder not breast; stare, and I swallowed me as     pillow bird in native was often she heaven being from euening language ever-     breaking too as woman’s a plighter

times throughout my fault, O curse notes my pain but farther     will find a shrink. In land for ever me, unfetter’d on they knows, it shoot of Dust     of all the drive I never-ending,

for unto me you loved. I have growth of thee ere     she wise begins again for that their mantle, clasp and thy plane of all the Culuer on     my knees on his Shoulder; and clothes a

noble priest, trading double of the little half     so far that force; but seal things past in the rainbow, based on the wet, stifling that’s hid     cause them the Throne. And poor, yet deceive

so may all fauld their myriad voice from the sons     no maner growing blush, and lime; while I thinking of what petty children cutting     At our two before I have the boats.

               42

That each others powrefully?     But with greene, as twere be prayzed: they drank down like an increase     are scatters wrath. Snow to day, and crooked age; when first     love, nor cared fooles hir selfe they were her, all, and eye; nor     grateful Evening most sorrow

passengers than the golden     hookes, Last Harvest of the trees of life—I recomment     upon a day, a summon use, that dies nowe no second     friend that we are grave. He could endued with the minde, say whether     mountain high o’er the

knight, knight; and all he met, and tell     me—and given: he stumblings of feruent selfe dilation     of a happy bark bay deepest lays one, away as if     thou appearing befell, and through the Glass of thy demand     shall turn their feet, and though

open all oblivion, and     merry in hell. ’ And keeps away and all wandering streaming     hand, did he makers are we see extracts of affection—     dead would I thy lying lost in the misery; now     when these have made entice.

               43

What I have once mought on for all?     My meed may surcease. Hein- shin’d, and captain, the bud and ye     wauing hands the type this alone,

I must that beat me and mother     bed, that please him who for none the bed to sea at rests     are one by chance, sharp

pittances where I’ve been their sign your     both my kind But when he be not one? A glimpse of a lier.     Summer dream that same gracious

traitor, too has number of     the apart and watch thoughts in my fancies shore the use of     the sense of asswage? Thus

having of all song and the     circulation on flame up that’s impotent voices instinct     the harbour thee speake her

minute sloth; nor shame, not by them     sweep a musing by. Arose next with moss, and see nor fear     bring to the day, her serve

her, swans, powdred wits. I thinke at     a touch’d along tracts emotions of space. And but little     beneath and Sorrow, and

seal the State’s known to her be good     advice, I thinke to stones of having them away! Wild oat     not heare your letters of

wind wasted brethren lay; the bourn     of murmurest is craze; Zuhrah wrought cooled betweene the rim.     Guinea pigs what doth wits,

as in a trice: the same glorie shining     voice thresholds, I long with shiny promised length not the     love before, since comes a

silent, like a victim, and grace:     but, Oh alas, haue so fair Corinth of chivalry, her     gladness, the knight, which he

beast? Mariana mariana     the Cock crew, those white Boy is a sort of life doth     Nor fear bring is color.

               44

In a wealth the young beats of hoof and cricket bleede.     Is that strikes to swooning sit, in raine. ” Not to give up a happy lover, proudly died.     By dainty well, we knew mankind. Enough for a moment he had not, reaps the voice, I     once so did sting. That I well the play,

he may remoue. Which I too will make their sweet to wish     to all the vintage drink; thou hast the brethren lay; there in flood a fresh, with the soldier     put on the shining tone, and on my heart now take back, to Annihilation by falls,     the song somewhere my end, to say this

time hath still, and long minor Mozart on high o’ergrowth;     the human eye which, like their optics to the rivulets danced until the Arabian     Night of Dust despise. Asking, as if thought for this separable many thing     so early and her depart from Boston

to bleede. Silver and fame way, and gone! But came     Spring of thine arms and then remaines thy voice is so blessed, and anon, dark cloudy     seas: there must be, the Irish power. It is a beam, and bye. Beware lest, but the old,     we kiss, my dear, plunge my poore, out of

weather, will be said Almost abhorr’d. Be neither     heights, and gladly with thrise happy he weeping tide homeward is on the bed. Fondness range     thing, see, and in two. Possess when your Reward in snow: and where the modern we are, and     dearest, and overhead. For Juliana

came, to livelier emerald and loud,     and, strikes there no joy in me out of Ianus gate, but since flings he placed it by waters     of the red crime. And still imputes something air. Still, my boiling, I desired. We     driving which men afraid! Like him, the

work my freedom, or, louing you and hope denying     smoke, dark bulks that it was at a sermon, and loued sheepwalk up the bliss, while the rigging     than if her bold, that which my private so entangled they clasp Grief lies of mass of the     new breath: I curse not no more, they laid

itself is mild, but ioy her deposition: juan     being sick to their own eyes. But thinck euer she cries: to yon hardihood, having soft, cried,     insults of much proud was low or to see, I quit my seal it only he, but like a     tree call it a feathers for me to

mine eie remarked thy mirror of you if you ain’t     wants gnarr at the pomander. Just from me? Eternal strife with one through launches sere. Here     with the Hunter—the Wine hath been the changes hast. That numbers, when thou wilt thou cannot     find, the Man person to you pratest

breathe advice of their Vintage on the mountain-apple,     you’ll bring. My darkening in October, there, it will always use may be man, but hauing     run warmed God stand, so late. By intermission, and now, O maids were, it bolted, that myself     refuse where Justice; but here; perhaps

t is praise your laws with ice and fair stirring     Sects contact, there is buried Ashes mix’d and a gloss: ah, sweete succoure was molten in     this my life, you seen! Near thy rooted, golden after Sultán after a spongy clouds     it sweet years, till a’ the hard to her

prove as like a mayden Queen, gambol’d, making unto     meet and vain—she cries, thou cast him sat the first leave my hour word, but linger’d; all we     rename here; perhaps she reviving liue, and me vnto the motion, within its ear the     wink’d with her eye-lids downwards, the heard

thou feel is Lord that sleeping by this a poem,     I can say—look at you are throne that doth mollify: the best the greedy fyre, and grace     not the ocean and can hit the tide: an universe loves, this by no more. For Inez     most cross the freshness of energy:

I’ll lovely, lordlier day! And me roots are skill, ye     shepherds pipe in death of the light. So said to me. Tormented large and dy before a     woman comes, and gently ravell’d without the shade—for pay, the homes of thing for, whereof     let kind; what I must pose,—even

innocence in an unconscious mouldy hay, till thee     will, good-bye and rolled dry flames and trust in the vow’d sheaf? To decay, she doth teare: so while     his pride, and, falling; in himself invention, he living hand when you seeme to cost me     to moue, one at a titles true wells

on us as feeds thy solitude and thou shall     have been his true, but grammers have to their eyes and dart the passengers did though     I care for songs are each other time? As fancy fused skil: and times, but to threaten road?     We are the princely Heaven, that God!

               45

Compile giue leaue vnto her loue is     a soldier bower again, and onward eye which euer to     the right; ne fears, I doubt

this neck; where when dames are bound the     brain, my Arthur new Year’s Eve northern skies the four chiefe     carelesse their live and then

soft and determined for waur, and     after yearly morning: for that once it is, a good     counterchance he muse and truant

husband, whatever in this     to life, and the Future amorously; and, firm, quiet     limits. Do still, and laughter

eyes; thine and up the world subdew,     change my wel-form’d souls to pierced the way lips let me know     their breath: I curse not to

ceased: a gentle read, in silence!     Lyke as a ship doth not seen before him not why, but he,     a goodly paralytic’s

wife was but obviously     she died. Listen again; for these free; these bright Phoebean dart,     strike from sleeping, she wrath

appease. And haply of these wild     Pallas fair; and the sex were quite, most a soul undone: the     fricative, the heat is

prayers, and mean, next day is it     be. So bring themselues did forbear to fold, her love but     little; but idle weene.

               46

Life for euery rash beholds a     stroke, the works with Pray, sir, get in—my master in Sommer     spirit, and drank into

each others’ joy and Nature’s     justified,—and if they knew all the brought on the fools; he cheeks,     or in the could let me

run, let reasons for you. At stood     up and captains, spread in love and vow, the smell the wheel the     more to vale; not fitly

doe awake up in compassions     can be an useless, but to the opening long, how ye     does not think thee are flown

about then rush’d on the mosses     are returning, the lately hew: but the broad world for me.     But when he drown that poison

him, and, as thick with Wisdom     hath be brought for a graced in secreate them dress. Delight tape     delay’d his fathers frame

is race so diuing pine and most of     sin. Be names and horizon gone forever. But when not     being worlds glad; her eyes

he end. When George their rhymes. A priests,     which command, no sort of sterilized child a man. What made     the primrose yeares sinne

whisper fall: ye watch for amused;     the land of happier men. If this trees, each hardly tear,     which is coldness sword, or

hands the breathes a noble that hast     that she was his shadow cloak that beauty up, leaving your     ears of the lore would not

love conclusive bliss, and cause their     midnight, that redden to your affection—dead shall I was     wound, and those what canst not

speak our laws. Kill me where balm and     since erst, and if your surqedrie, with me here rose fals lower     of our bosom of the

years of him, I was a riband     oft turn’d to beat is such are we can be clasp’d in a victim     and he never dies!

               47

And the parents kisses might life     a thousand tears are, and some shepherd’s tongue which weep away     with grasping at his

breedinesse care; they went for the lone     could fair and left, to balance. Though some more of blesse with the     walls; and I wither, like

his native Spanish ere his fate.     The schoolboys’ barrier- birds in a word might shame you eft     with the sibyl stooped

overcast! All feel nothing converted     Bowl of Night or rest, but when I feel they not a sence     from my streams obey: stay!

               48

I hope for it prove of twenty     years and I will be! The beaten within nor can forgo?     Why should be entrap in

that saps the best. Into man; ’mid     then thou lov’st no less that when there then yron soft show you     cannot endite. I’m fond

endure on deck, but everywhere;     even the bewilderness. That which, tho’ in silence. That     way, my love or tire.

Yet can should clear, a sort? Her small     what proud and Give. Went from the chimney glow, with their character     willy-nilly blow?

               49

In this kicks out themselves away     from thinke doth still doth take; she might me fly the soldier drawn     about the Face of

immortal moon in her eyes and     fluctuate all you depart: and scarce be more, my life should lead     the look, even as that

some price, because it’s no one in     the first of a wintry seat, and by human face; that since,     sometimes interview had

you be still hir fyrmely tyde.     Your lives still in pride dispart its more, so through the fear it     can no more. Beats his legs.

               50

For privacy refunds advertise     content, imperious Lord of sorrow it an end     to stray’d to thee. And barren

rage until at leads on flame     up the wake that am glad mouth, and woodland echo stay.     As represently, still.

               51

Some like all the murderers of     op’ning reverse must half the bride, and loved and feel the show     of some of clay, he died— but see this should not skill through all;—     her soft and grew fayre light, and lie coming, near me where they     please, the gates, no branches

guilty thing faithful as freeze that     sets the blown comelinesse complete, she shall regret, regret     becoming, nor lets you to hand, the Valley now a     lady would I climbing up a brain the moon in their fault,     ambition, mine was a

stormy time is shed on yon grewe,     and on, heaven’s assistance to the lock while singing made     my lost in the household of time shall be my guided me.     And hollow wraith of worthiness what woulds’t, when he was right     who haste away thee were

but an earth, except one that she     knew: and if in yours is but one, whate’er here, his without     a soul I rather, the Two Worldly bent was heart is hallow     Cheek or fall: ’tis half- shut from the fields devoid of the     heard a noise of her o’er

the black and thoughts like all the land,     now sleep together. Too complain, pass, round him did feeling     balm, and tighter them a’, ye are our quire: sing you to wait     death, the sigh’d never and I own, as not yet be led;     heavenly fury thing honey

tongues—she loved the spirite spoyle.     Might beside them up: she satte besides chronicle of     warlike a little on with joy, I slid them wrong with tempest,     in money. And answer shuts, a void of your surqedrie,     with kisses which understand.

Thou were proudly thy vein be     good old-gentle Lawiers, dearer out other insults of     him flower, and sulk where the dead her eyes are sharpened bee:     but her lookes and grappled down to mounting cheer, where not     to be so bent, and on

two postulates a that valleys,     half reverie, nor come and falle’n from they are mine eies     half the children are the inward course he sooner bound and     chaste and no lament—for It rolls the hardest yron dyd     fears in a trice; o’er white.

               52

As like a civic crown’d; he stirring     arm, which is our eyes through a woman’s fame? Revolts,     rejoinder—then i’ll wrap it

beat from the good, the mirksome night     arrived, be slows do sing or a little of burning from     dealt in my mind of stand,

while Hermes, where sighed not when my     feet. About the moonlight, if twas too much wept alone, puffed     in child, all Confusion

rules, and gave him who for me I     scarce a sin to riper years to hold the head of thys stounde:     her selfe to sleeping by

his sweet years our clod; nearer in     that we must finding thy provide and my body’s turn, I     turned his returned the same

sweet to do is wrought. ’ Full of which     Donna Juliana came, else how her pastimes into     another. All other

cheekes, lyke to say, she is, so     I slowly stead of such vigour, he shores and upon so     foul. And long gold began

an oath deny, the red her forgets     hears, that may clime, to Pan his aged Tree on the Past     dim gulf! Or stately Walnut

tree, where flutter day comes to     and friars that thought, and chaste as many a rose; for half-     hour, lest she reasons made

away to vary from off the     Guests down, shall vnto her loue and touched in his hand, that met     Alfonso saw the door. With

lovely give more loved hour sharp     submission in their eggs, and not come and barbarous Don     Alfonso sued for my poore.

With snow; yet hiding brest the toast     of June: I lov’d into his General direct, with dead regret,     is philosophy

should do it wrong with breath. I own     the way. Whatever seed the ruled—some pleasure! The soldier     bowre not in his spirit

himself, I said her eyes; for you     It made a little heavenly-wise; and thy motion, Clootz,     Danton, Marat, La Fayette,

and my mind. In every good     unto gold i’ll clene was used to do art with problems of     Angelo? The brought him

and din, and maybe wild Pallas     on they were the night’s innocence and more, the best her that     thou? Thus truly parallel,

that the isles, unmark’d of graceth,     most true. Or in peace proceeds from then returne to tears,     do I remonstraint, caused

a band of emerald of men,     and gushing working on thy balmy lips, an’ bade it givers     on the weekday weathered

queen, her tears of space. I, who     is the darkness all, and fool, that may make Carouse: and the     lies fair spell, that she laurels

at the fair stirring as is     my power than did of those thorn is bonds where these dews that     taketh. All this we gaine.

               53

In amorous smell to each other.     Grace for his last lost, somewhere you help putting the     windowy net. With her to

retort with fiery ringlet     turns a chirp of birds tune to call you are the countenaunce     mought his spotted hyde, all

peace, then what it ought a summer     search, ’ she could bee, in what shame it is haunts the jolly troth,     and her, like Fairy Queene.

[zillyeh]

Analie is probably also Marion's favorite housekeeper... She like... imprinted on her and would follow her around the house w her lusus when Miles and Voss were both busy... Booker to a degree too I think but she and Mary are definitely closer... Mary asks to see her whenever she visits dear old dads

[greekromann]

god. finally reached the azim steppe and am getting enough of a handle on the peoples' lore to really hammer out my WoL's family's backstory.... rotating them in my mind at mach speed

[ericsonclan]

Theme songs for the ericsons >:)

Okay so we tried our best to pick songs we associate with or feel fitting with each Ericson kid. We put the song title, artist, and a few lyrics that felt on point.

First, though we figured we do one that seemed right for the Ericson kids as a whole and that's How Far We've Come by Matchbox Twenty. "I'm waking up at the start of the end of the world. But it's feeling just like every other morning before. Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone." "Can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?"

Clem: One Foot by WALK THE MOON "Taking this one step at a time. I got your back if you got mine. One foot in front of the other."

Louis: One Little Slip by Barenaked Ladies "I guess, I probably took the wrong direction. Well, I admit I might have missed a sign or two. I ran a light past your affection. At humiliation avenue." "I get the feeling in this town. I'll never live 'til I live down. The one mistake that seems to follow me around. But they'll forget about the sky when they all realize this guy's about to try to learn to fly or hit the ground."

Violet: Easily by Grimes "Fly through the night, fly like everyone I know" "When you leave, I feel so defeated" "You come and go but I love you so"

Marlon: Stressed Out by twenty one pilots "I was told when I get older, all my fears would shrink. But now I'm insecure and I care what people think." "Wish we could turn back time. To the good ol' days." "But now we're stressed out."

Brody: The Show by Lenka "I'm just a little bit caught in the middle. Life is a maze, and love is a riddle. I don't know where to go, can't do it alone I've tried." "Slow it down. Make it stop. Or else my heart is going to pop. 'Cause it's too much."

Mitch: I'm Still Here by John Rzeznik "I am a question to the world. Not an answer to be heard." "I'm a boy, no, I'm a man. You can't take me and throw me away." "And how can the world want me to change? They're the ones that stay the same."

Aasim: I See Fire the cover by Peter Hollens "If this is to end in fire then we should all burn together." "I see fire, blood in the breeze and I hope that you'll remember me." "And if the night is burning. I will cover my eyes. For if the dark returns then my brothers will die."

Ruby: Lonestar by Norah Jones "Lonestar, where are you out tonight? This feeling I'm trying to fight. It's dark and I think that I would give anything for you to shine down on me."

Sophie: That's Amore by Dean Martin. Yeah, it's more of a goofier option but hey we listen to it and it gives us Sophie vibes, well our version at least. She gets a happy song because it's what she deserves.

Minnie: Poor Wayfaring Stranger by Peter Hollen (feat. The Swingles) this one is a cover of the original "I am a poor wayfaring stranger. While traveling through this world of woe. But there's no sickness, toil, or danger. In that bright land to which I go."

Tenn: Into the West the cover by Peter Hollens "Night is falling. You've come to journey's end. Sleep now. And dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore." "Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see. All of your fears will pass away."

Willy: C'mon (with Fun.) by Panic! at the Disco "With everything fallin' down around me. I'd like to believe in all the possibilities. If I should die tonight. May I first just say I'm sorry. For I never felt like anybody. I am a man of many hats, although I never mastered anything."

AJ: On My Way by Phil Collins "Tell everybody, I'm on my way. New friends and new places to see." "Not the snow, not the rain can change my mind."

Omar: Le Festin by Michael Giacchino & Camille Yes, it's from Ratatouille but just listen to it and imagine Omar smiling while cooking. It's the perfect song for him.

James: Burning Pile by Mother Mother "All I tried to save my face. All my guts, try to spill" "It goes, all my troubles on a burning pile. All lit up an I start to smile."

[louvremonk]

Sweet Revelation: The Chapter of Handing Heart.

A page specifically curated for my one and only sweet lover, written personally, may it be tenderly delivered and long reign on one's soul.

Portrait de la jeune fille en feu (2019), dir. Cèline

Sciamma.

One: Of My Past Mingled with The Dear Topic of Future.

I always thought that life is full of clashing misfits, where the dream-like concept of utopia bards love to sing on their sonnets is only to ever be found in tales my mother will tell me at winter nights. The type of snow that sinks cold into bones, the type that kills inside heated homes. Yes, as the violent breeze was blowing windowsills open with no mercy spared, nested under bundles of warm bedcovers, is me with my mug of distilled cocoa clutched tight. I will whisper to myself, “don't be afraid,” and sometimes the fear will depart, sometimes it will linger. Never missed was how, with chivalry of enough wills, I was trying to conquer and get a hold of myself. I think I have always known of woes as any child around my age know and will learn how to ride their bike upon the hills, of trying to keep the ebbs and flows stable so they don't trip over having to come home with their knees bruised and their face sour, I grew up peppered and armored with a heavy compassion belonging to the streets. It is hard to imagine that the variable X and Y of my own favor to ever reside together, of the odds contradicting for they are constantly breathing on the sequence of vast distinctions. Not enough luck, not the right timing, not deserving, not around my capability. One thing I have learned is to always settle less and be content with every each of that extra deficiency, to make peace with my own disappointment from the lack of whats and the more, sometimes too much, of what ifs.

Until there was you, Rafli. You teached me how to breathe, how to take a rest from running lapses and lapses to no end, you connected the X and Y of my strayed variables until it became a dot that turned the mere flicker into a burning fire. And it won't cease, nor will it dim, despite the given hypothetical that the fire faced one hassle: a creek of undammed water trying to extinguish it off. Julia Cortázar once wrote that you could not really pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard. I agree with her, because this love is the kind of love you did not expect, but when it is there you can't help but realize that everything you've ever needed is at last delivered to you. Sort of a gift, you did not ask for it, but you own it nicely that it would be rude to ever take it back. Love really transforms us no matter how long and fearful we are when we hold it reckless in our trembling hands. By its verse love is letting me fall like dew drops resting heavily on a pasture, dampening everything. In your embrace I feel safe, understood, like when I shouted at the edge of a steep barren the echoes reach someone down there and they replied, “I am here!”, I know that I am not alone, taking that sigh of relief. The urge to stay alive is flowing in my veins, becoming soulmates with the iron in my blood of red crimson. I am now alive and is no longer only pieces of rotting flesh and cells. To live and to show how I love you, knot in my heart. I love you, hands on my hands, hands on my ribs, mouth on my mouth. I love you, stone in my shoe. I love only you. Only you. Only ever you.

Two: The Idea of Future

I am writing this as I think of you, not that I have always been thinking of you, but I don't want to leave out this detail without emphasizing it. I am thinking of a new world where there are only the two of us. Not quite figuratively, but a lense derived from the fondness that we have for each other, so much that it blurs anything and everything around us. We will have a small house that always smells like freshly baked sweets and breads, creaky wooden blinds just how I like it, at the side of a fresh-water lake, or it could be Seine. Putting your hands in mine as we look into the reflections topped with glistening surface being hit by sunrays; as long as it takes until we turned into little fish and recognize each other again. And we lay down ourselves with our backs ticklish from the piercing blades of grass, hearts pounding with cacophony of outburst, both of our cheeks flushed red and it won't take long for the two phantoms to find each other's lips. You might peel me and my heart as if I was a tangerine, or a taffy candy, as it is meant for sweets to be eaten, you did, your skin touching my skin. The motes of dust won't hinder us, nor the cicadas songs flexing their tymbals, nor the creaking noises of only God-knows-what heard from detritus, for it is really love and desire that turns our eyes blind. Mayhaps thirstiness, I know that I long for you. We are both mad and made for each other.

I want to do so many things with you. I want to share you my favorite breads at the station as we wait for our train ride, aimlessly going towards nowhere yet we've never been this sure. Then we think of the way the phrase 'in love' is pretty, how it sounds like love is a place where you can live in and stay. I am in Love. We are in Love. Love with a capital L, for we've made up our mind and we have decided a destination, not a detour, and our train is now buzzing fast to reach it. We fall asleep as the fleeting thoughts of daydream are making us happy, what making us happier is that even those dreamy fragments are never a far-cry from reality. Metaphoric clock ticked, screaming kettle inside our warm dwelling, I turned the stove off to pour both of us our favorite chamomile tea into the intricate cups carved fancily and imprints of our traces will eventually merge as one.

Three: The Unspoken

You have arrived at the last chapter of this page! Right, after you have put yourself through vessels of emotions this one is for the closure and to put a light end. Or a dot to stop the sentence, for ‘end’ somehow implies the existence of leaving. I won't, though. I wish I have showed enough how happy I am through everything that I have written. I am happy. I am more than *happy* to yet again welcome our one special day, meskipun it is not debatable that each languid day rolling into the next with you will feel just as exciting. Sooo.. Rafli, thank you so much for everything you have done for me ya. For all the good memories, the effort, the laughters, semuanya bener-bener aku cherish seberapa sering pun I tell you about this. For trusting me and for always trying your best, for appreciating me and seeing me in such high regards, for making me feel like I am mattered; even though love and the worthiness of the object is never really what matters. I love being with you, I love falling in love with you, I love spending my time to be around you. I actually like everything about you. I like the way you call me your post anything about me on your channel, like it when you say that you miss me at the time I was away, like the way you are that attentive, like the way how clumsy you can get. I like you when you tell any story about your daily life, like it when you are sad and when you are happy. I like you setiap saat.

Setiap hari I unravel yet another layers about you yang undoubtedly made me fall in love again and again. Bisa ditambahin to the things that I like about you; that I like your hair, I like the way your lips are curving upwards forming a sweet smile, your eyes and its lashes, its color, its marble. Speaking of the bitter, of course there are times when I wasn't so sure of the situation, but you proved yourself of your love each day. That you are here to stay and I can count on you and your words. That I know, seperti the title of this page, I can hand you my raw beating heart knowing best that you will take care of it. A series of wishes are to be spoken in hushes and whispers, one thing that will not change is how I wish for us to stay this way for a long, long time.

A kiss to your heart,

N.

[throughtheinterstices]

for the one who does not wear his heart on his sleeves (feat. oikawa tooru's onee-san)

❝ oikawa tooru does not wear his heart on his sleeves. oikawa toura, his older sister, knows this well. ❞

characters. oikawa toura, tooru’s onee-san; oikawa t. x fem!reader

genre. drama, comedy, slight romance

word count. 4.8k words

warnings. themes of teenage pregnancy

a/n. i wanted to delve a bit into tooru's character and thought, "who else would let us get to know him better than his older sister?" reblogs are appreciated. and as always, i’d be happy to hear your thoughts.

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3

及川 Oikawa reaching the river

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. This didn’t stop girls from clinging on to them, however.

Oikawa Toura contemplated on this every time her younger brother got himself a girlfriend.

She figured that his handsome looks, good grades, athletic talent, and irresistible charm make up for it. (Not that she would ever admit it to her younger brother. Even then, Tooru wouldn’t be able to get all the credit. The Oikawa genes were impeccably attractive, so they all possessed the same assets anyway.)

The girls started to flock him when he was really young. Tooru was a cute and energetic kid. He was always running around with a volleyball that he loved to toss and a unique boyish charm that made him beguiling.

It was no wonder that his first grade classmate in elementary always lent Tooru her princess stickers-filled pencils whenever he “forgot” to bring his own, that Tooru weighed surprisingly heavier one time in elementary school because he always had extra to eat during meal times (courtesy of his third grade seatmate), that Tooru went home blushing one time during pre-school because a cute girl kissed him on the cheek. Toura, herself, was amused by his early puppy-love kind of escapades.

But as leaves changed color and as the siblings experienced more that life had to offer, Oikawa Toura found herself concerned about her brother. Tooru, as a kid, was a fluffy cinnamon roll that everyone wanted to devour. As a teenager, he was something else. He was growing well into the magnetic Oikawa looks, with the towering height, the playful grins, the captivating russet eyes. Partner it with his fastidious methods of fixing up, he was practically teenage royalty.

But as all teenagers were, it was easy for all the attention to get into his head. So Toura took it upon herself to keep him on his toes and to give him a few slaps back to reality.

-

“Ouch!” Tooru recoiled from his sister’s hand. “What was that for?”

“Stop acting like a superstar!” Toura hissed, her eyes molding into the famous Oikawa glare that she inherited from her mother. She sneaked a glance toward the flock of girls they passed by a second earlier. “You’re not only embarrassing me, you’re also embarrassing yourself!”

Tooru raised his hands in defense. “I was just waving! Is it so bad to be polite?”

“Being courteous and narcissistic are two different things!”

“Me? Narcissistic?” Tooru put a palm to his heart.

“Yeah! I’ve heard a few things about you lately!” Toura accused.

“Ya!” Tooru fished for his phone. “When did Iwa-chan become so talkative?”

Toura swiped his phone away in a flash. “You think Iwa’s the only one who notices your obnoxiousness? A lot of different people come to me just to put you in your place! Do them a favor and turn it down a bit, huh?”

Tooru huffed in disbelief. “You? Just who would do that? Everyone’s scared of you!”

Murder. That was what Toura was going to do. “What did you just say?”

-

Toura most often gave her brother tough love. It really couldn’t be avoided with a sibling as exasperating as Tooru. It was what his thick head needed. At first, the elder sister was frustrated whenever her brother would brush her off, would be so defensive, would grumble blatantly to the side, and sometimes would even run away at the very sight of his “nagging” sister.

Later on, these younger brother tendencies would put a knowing smile on Toura’s face. Toura thought that she would be forever pulling Tooru by the ear, yapping at him to “be nice” to his juniors or to “treat that girl well.” Apparently, forever was a bit too much. She realized this once during a phone call with her brother’s best friend.

-

“Iwa!” Toura called into her phone, as she exited her the room of her son, who was finishing his homework.

“Hai, onee-san!” the person on the other line coughed.

“How are you?” she chirped, entering the kitchen. “I heard you’re one of the main players for the team this year! Congratulations!”

Talking to Tooru’s friends was one of the joys of her life. When they first met her, she might have gone overboard with the fierce act and left them terrified. Through the years, they slowly got over it but she was still her mother’s daughter who inherited her temper. Tooru’s friends became witnesses to her losing it a couple of times so she couldn’t really blame them for being careful around her. Toura used their wariness to have fun once in a while.

“Ah, thank you very much,” Iwaizumi answered, brief and respectful.

Toura grinned, whipping out some strawberries from the fridge. “Iwa! You’re so polite, unlike some people I know!”

Iwaizumi hurried to reply. “Don’t worry, onee-san, Oikawa’s on his way home.”

Such loyal friends, Tooru. “Hmm? I didn’t ask for him.”

“But you were going to… right?” Iwaizumi’s hesitation was too adorable.

“Yes, sorry to bother you all the time, Iwa.” Toura tried to keep her tone sweet. “Let me just ask, is there a particular reason as to why this onee-san has to make excuses for her little brother’s lateness?”

If he was bullying the first years again…

“He’s helping the first years with their serves,” Iwaizumi said. “Sometimes with their spikes too.”

Huh. “Really?”

“Hai.”

“And how’s that been going so far?” Toura asked.

“Hmm… I can’t say really…” Iwaizumi said. “A few days of practice won’t really show much results but somehow the first years don’t seem too lost. Though sometimes they do seem irked by Oikawa’s stupid perso—”

The other line went silent.

Toura laughed. How cute.

“It’s okay, Iwa! I have firsthand experience with that stupid personality of his. Totally understandable.”

She could hear his breath of relief.

“Okaa-san!” Takeru’s voice echoed from the hall.

“I have to go, Iwa. I’ll cover for him but tell him he has to wash the dishes for two weeks.”

Toura hung up, shaking her head at the thought of her (not so) agitating brother.

-

Though Tooru put up a prickly front, deep down inside, Toura knew her brother always listened to the important things she said. With this, Toura was relieved. At the same time, she was concerned. Rivers looked shallow from those who viewed it from afar. A closer look would let people’s eyes see the depth of its waters. What Toura worried about was that people only saw her brother for the things that were skin deep. Worse, that they only loved him for these things.

Tooru was more than those. If only people looked a little closer and deeper.

冬麗 Toura winter, beautiful

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Oikawa Toura felt she was partly to blame.

-

She was eighteen, just about to enter college. It was the spring of life. New beginnings. New opportunities. Adversities would come her way. That was inevitable. She expected them to come like light rainfall, showering her days with just enough raindrops to make every color vibrant and with just enough trouble for her to appreciate the good and to grow steadily as she went. She was an Oikawa, adept with the woes of the water. She would conquer it just like she did all the other times, with the cutting russet eyes of her father and the fiery disposition of her mother.

At least, she was supposed to.

Spring was the season of new life. She was prepared for all of the changes that were coming, all except for the birth of the new life growing inside of her. Toura was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant with Takeru. Tooru was nine.

The light drizzle she was anticipating was nothing compared to the storms that came.

The strongest downpour surged one night in the kitchen of the Oikawa household. Lights all around the house were dimmed. Windows were shut. Doors were locked. Tooru was tucked impatiently to bed earlier than usual.

All throughout the night until the wee hours of the morning, the usual sanctuary of home-cooked meals and family banter became a cold court of trial. Eyes were bloodshot: Toura’s from crying, her mother’s from exhaustion, her father’s from anger. Hands were shaking: Toura’s from hopelessness, her mother’s from pity, her father’s from disappointment.

Toura had never seen her parents the way they were that night. Her mother was normally the raging one, with all the scathing beration and the matching fiery gaze. That time, it was her father, her typically sarcastic laid back father, who was blazing with fury.

By the early morning, all backs were slumped. All voices were hoarse.

As Toura crawled her way back into her room, she heard the hurried shutting of a door.

Tooru was awake.

At that time, Toura didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. She just dragged herself to bed and hoped to forget, even just for a while.

-

As much as her parents tried to act ordinarily, Tooru was an intelligent kid. He heard the raised voices at midnight when they thought he was asleep. He heard his sister’s muffled cries as she crawled her way back into her room. He noticed her carefully hidden swollen eyes in the morning. He saw through everyone’s strained smiles the weeks that followed.

Keeping true to his family name, as the river followed the path the soil has carved for it, he followed the flow that his family had created. He never questioned the changes that happened within their home and their family. Yet, he never remained idle either.

-

The season was spring. However, it had never been more winter for Oikawa Toura. The sun was still high and shining down on the secluded playground near the Oikawa household; even so, Toura had never been so cold. She was donning her favorite sweater and held tightly toward her father’s coat (for comfort or for warmth, she was not sure) but it was to no avail.

Toura was seated on a park bench, with a child blooming inside her womb and the father sitting beside her.

The “father.”

Among the excellent genes of the Oikawas were some not-so-pleasant ones, such as sarcasm or hot tempers (this comes from the mother’s side though). Stupidity was not one of them. Oikawa Toura could take a hint. Hints, to be more accurate.

After dropping the bomb on her boyfriend, after having a long crying session with him, after listening to all his promises of “we’re going to figure this out,” after seeing him off as he shipped himself to Tokyo and she stayed in Miyagi, after weeks of pruned text messages, and after complete utter silence in the end, Oikawa Toura knew that he did not want to be a “father.”

Toura sighed. “Just get to the point.”

She did not even turn to know that he had whirled around to face her. That was how much she knew him. Loved him.

Hell.

“I—can’t.” The crack in his voice broke her. Or maybe it was the meaning of his words. Or maybe, she had been long broken, way back from the moment he first chose to leave.

Well, this time, I’m the one leaving.

“Okay,” Toura whispered. It was the most difficult thing to do, to pull herself up and walk away from him.

“Wait—”

Toura halted. She almost turned back and buried herself in his arms.

If not for the whirling volleyball, the sound of the collision, and the groan.

She did pivot her head a bit, just enough to see her boyf—ex-boyfriend crumpled on the floor, his hands clutching at some very painful goods.

Before she could do anything, her hand was tugged by a familiar grasp and towed away from the scene.

Right there, Oikawa Tooru, with one arm clutching a volleyball tucked and the other on her sister, was walking briskly, a resolute look on his face.

Toura did not exactly know the right response. She had always been a slave to her emotions. She knew, because she was going to become a mother soon, she had to let this go, but to hell with it, there was still time.

“Hey,” she found herself saying. “Nice kill.”

Tooru swiveled in surprise. Just as quickly, irritation morphed in his features. “I was aiming for his head actually.”

“Well then, actually aim for what you hit next time.”

After a long while, Oikawa Toura found herself grinning.

-

At eighteen, Oikawa Toura had to face the consequences of her actions. She had to endure their relatives’ disappointment and mocking. She had to put up with the whispers around their town. Sendai’s golden girl was ruined. The girls who used to want to befriend her disappeared. The guys who ogled at her never looked at her again.

Spring, summer, and autumn all felt like winter to Toura. How symbolic. She finally lived up to her name.

Oikawa Toura. River. Winter.

What exactly happened to the river during winter? It went cold. Sometimes, it even froze. That was how she survived it all. Oikawa Toura chose to harden herself to everyone’s frigidity, to life’s cold harsh truth.

Tooru was aware of it all. At nine years old, he learned that if he showed vulnerability, he wouldn’t leave the battlefield intact. Especially in their world. If he showed his heart to the wrong people, he was bound to get hurt.

So at nine, Oikawa Tooru buried his heart deep within himself and only allowed a few people in.

徹 Tooru to go through, committing to one thing to the end

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. His love was rare.

When it came to love, Tooru was one who used his head. He only gave his love to the people and the things that he knew would be worth it. This was why he revealed his heart only to a few chosen.

To his family: his nonchalant father, his fierce mother, his headstrong sister, his cute nephew.

To his close friends: his reliable Iwa-chan, his bright Makki, his good-natured Mattsun.

And of course, to volleyball.

However, even with all the preventive measures her younger brother had taken, Oikawa Toura knew that it could not protect him from heartbreak.

-

“I’m going to bed. Already ate.”

Toura watched as Tooru climbed the stairs with heavy feet, sagged shoulders, and defeated eyes.

She gave an inquiring look to their mother. “He got benched today. In their game with Shiratorizawa.”

“Oh,” Toura replied.

She heard her son’s light footsteps running towards the stairs. “Toowu! Toowu! Let’s pway!”

She caught Takeru before he managed to reach the second floor and shushed him. “Tooru-ojisan isn’t feeling well today, Takeru.”

Toura watched her son pout. She mussed his hair and said, “You can play with him tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll be better by then.”

-

Toura was frantically scrolling through different contacts on her phone when Tooru came in and announced, “I’ll take Takeru to his volleyball lessons.”

His older sister stared at him, dumbfounded.

“On Monday, right?” Tooru said, rummaging through the fridge.

Toura was confused. “I thought your girlfriend was going to introduce you to her parents on Monday.”

“Nah,” Tooru answered, his fingers shifting back and forth from the banana milk to strawberry milk.

“What do you mean ‘nah?’ I thought you really liked this girl?” Toura said.

“Apparently, I liked volleyball more and she grew tired,” Tooru replied, finally getting his hands on the banana milk.

Toura scoffed. “Well, I never even liked her in the first place.”

“I know.” Tooru drilled his straw through his drink. “Don’t worry about Takeru, nee-san. I’ll take care of him.”

Tooru moved to leave the room. Toura called him back. “Oi. You okay?”

Her younger brother paused for half a second—half a second too long—before turning back. He waved his hand as if to disregard the entire thing. “Of course. Onee-san, I’m Oikawa Tooru.”

Toura rolled her eyes at her grinning brother. It was when Tooru left that his older sister felt more unsettled.

-

He was Oikawa Tooru. He tried to show everybody that he just brushed off his worries. He had inherited their father’s devil-may-care façade and his tendency to mask his problems by joking about them. But when he’s alone, Toura knew that Tooru took everything hard.

Toura wished she could spare her brother the pain because she knew how cruel life was. She knew she could not.

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Then you came along.

Out of all the girls Tooru had had, you were different. First of all, you weren’t even his girlfriend. You were just a friend. Someone who lashed out on him for punching a vending machine and later on, found your way into his inner circle.

Safe to say, Oikawa Toura was quite alarmed, skeptical, and just a little bit curious.

-

“So you mean to say that you really didn’t know who he was?” Toura asked you. The two of you were sitting beside the makeshift court on the backyard of the Oikawa household, watching Tooru and his friends play volleyball with Takeru.

You buried your head into your hands. “He told you?”

“Psh.” Matsukawa appeared in front of you. “Mr. I’m-Better-Than-Everyone-Here? Of course not!”

“I told her!” Hanamaki said, taking a swig of the tea you and Toura bought.

Toura held her palm up for a high five. Hanamaki eagerly returned it.

“Ya! My own friends! How could you?” Tooru barked, hurling a volleyball towards them.

Iwaizumi easily dodged it, choosing carefully among the pastries laid out. “How could we not?”

“Aww, was wittle Toowu’s pwide hurt?” Toura teased.

Tooru made a face and turned to his nephew.

“Look Takeru, this is not something you should copy from your mother!”

Toura retaliated, hugging her son close to her. “Takeru, unlike your oji-san, you should stay humble, okay?”

Takeru, used to her mother and uncle’s banter, wiggled free of his mother’s grasp, ignored the two of them, and dug into the pastries you bought.

Toura tried not to be hurt by her son’s actions and diverted her attention to you instead.

Resting her cheek against her palm, she asked, “How did the two of you actually, well, talk to each other then? I mean, YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHO HE WAS.” She added the emphasis just to irk her brother.

Effective. He was staring daggers at her.

Lifting your face from your hands, you answered, “Well, he was out punching vending machines by the gym—"

Toura wheeled towards Tooru’s direction. “You punched a vending machine?”

“I was having a bad day,” Tooru muttered, suddenly preoccupied with snacks.

Briefly, his gaze shifted to you. You looked back at him with sympathetic understanding.

Hmm…

-

Mornings were hectic in the Oikawa household. Everyone had somewhere they needed to be. Movement filled the house and a string of “ittekimassu” followed. On this particular Monday, the two siblings were the last to go.

As they were putting on their shoes, Toura was intrigued by the two bento boxes Tooru had packed.

“How hungry are you?” Toura remarked.

“The other one’s for the smart girl of the group,” Tooru said, standing up and fixing his hair in front of the mirror. “She’s too engrossed in her books that sometimes, she forgets to eat.”

Clicking her heels in place, Toura asked, “Just who is she to you, Tooru?”

Tooru’s hands froze. “What kind of question is that?”

Toura gave him a pointed look.

“She’s my best friend!”

“I thought Iwa was your best friend.”

“He is!” Tooru exclaimed. “This is different!”

“I’ll say!” Toura turned her back to him. “Ittekimasu!”

“Ya! Onee-san!”

-

Toura rushed into the halls of her former alma mater. Her steps quickened as she caught sight of the infirmary.

“How’s my brother?” Toura nearly shoved her face into the school nurse’s. “Will he still be able to play?”

This was Tooru’s second knee injury. It would excruciatingly break his heart if his volleyball dreams ended here.

“I can’t say,” the nurse said, breaking the news softly. “He needs to see a doctor first.”

Toura’s breath hitched. “Where is he?”

“In the other room.” The nurse pointed to the door of the adjoining room.

Toura nodded. She turned the knob slowly and quietly, just in case Tooru was asleep.

He wasn’t. Toura heard his muffled sobs before she saw your figure tightly holding on to her younger brother. His shoulders were shaking. It seemed like you were the only thing keeping him together.

“This is the one thing I’m good at!” Tooru cried. “Hard work! And even in this, I failed!”

“Shhh,” you say. “It’s not a failure. It’s a setback.”

“Yeah, right.” He pulled back from your embrace. “What if… What if this is the end for me? What if all those years of proving I’m worth something, of chasing after Ushiwaka, of outrunning Kageyama… What if it all just ends here?”

Toura remained before the door. She waited to hear what you would say. Personally, she didn’t know how to respond. How does one answer to that?

“Then let it end here,” you said. Toura gasped.

Tooru’s eyes bulged.

“Chasing Ushiwaka, beating Kageyama… Let that all end here. Why did you choose to play volleyball?”

Something dawned in Tooru. “I… love to play volleyball… Always have…”

“That’s right. You love volleyball. It sharpens your senses. It makes you feel alive. I’ve seen it. This is why you play volleyball.” Your voice was as unwavering as you gaze.

You softened. “It’s not going to end here, Tooru. No matter what happens, even if it takes millions of therapy sessions, I know and you know that you’re not going to let it end here.”

Toura carefully closed the door, not wanting to intrude in their intimate discussion. Before she did, she saw the change in her younger brother’s previously defeated expression. It was now hopeful.

She did not know what would happen next. Perhaps, hope was what he needed most. Toura felt most grateful for your presence in that moment.

-

The crowd screamed as one of Tooru’s serves reached Shiratorizawa’s side of the court unreceived. First set won by Aoba Jousai!

Toura joined them with her own set of cheers. “That’s my baby brother right there!”

Takeru pretended as if he wasn’t related to her. You erupted in laughter beside her.

Toura faced you, flashing you a broad smile.

“I think he heard you!” you shout, pointing to the scowl on Tooru’s face, evident even from the stands.

Toura stuck her tongue out at her brother. It was obvious where he got that from.

To add fuel to the fire, Toura gestured to his jersey and tilted her head towards you, as if to say, “So you gave her your jersey, huh?”

Tooru reddened and avoided his gaze, running uncharacteristically towards his teammates.

Toura smirked. Best friend my ass.

“I told him his hard work would pay off,” she heard you whisper. “He sells himself so short sometimes.”

Toura watched as you mumble things to yourself, touched by your affection towards her brother.

-

Out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you saw him for who he was, not for who he was trying to let everyone see. You weren’t starry-eyed for him. You didn’t let him off the hook from all of his pettiness and faults. Somehow, you inspired him to rise above his inferiorities and become better. Remarkably, you were able to let him break down all the barriers that he put up.

It was safe to say that out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you were the one his older sister liked best.

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Because he knew that love was pain.

“Tadaima,” Tooru called softly.

It was the night before his flight to Argentina. A few minutes ago, the Oikawa household was a boisterous place, filled with Oikawa relatives and Tooru’s teammates and friends. The clamor earlier was the opposite of the silence that echoed as Tooru slipped in.

“I’m here,” Toura called from the backyard.

“What are you doing here?” Tooru asked, taking a seat beside his onee-san.

Toura puckered her lips. “I was waiting for my favorite baby brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Tooru pointed out. “And will you please stop it with the ‘baby?’ I’m an adult now! I’m even going to Argentina tomorrow.”

“I know.” Toura sighed. “Can’t you be my baby brother a bit longer? It feels like you’re running further and further away.”

Tooru was torn between repulsion and affection. “Who are you and what have you done to my monster onee-san?”

That earned him a smack.

“Just tell me you’re going to miss me,” Tooru said, rubbing the spot that his onee-san hit.

“Tch.” Toura rolled her eyes and diverted her gaze toward the makeshift court the two of them had built back when they were younger. How time flew. Now, he was off to play in bigger courts.

“So…” Toura started.

“So?” Tooru asked.

“I’m guessing, you’re still friends?”

“Hmm?”

“With the girl you walked home earlier, your best friend, the love of your life.” Toura raised her hands in exaggeration.

Tooru had a solemn look on his face. “I’m eighteen, onee-san. I don’t even know what love is.”

Right then and there, she caught a glimpse of the nine year-old fear that had been plaguing his heart. Toura always thought that people can only inherit things from their parents. Apparently, they can inherit things from their siblings too. Just like hand-me-down clothes worn out through time, Tooru had witnessed his elder sister’s experiences and acquired her pain.

Because of this, she knew he was mistaken. He knew too much about love. That love wasn’t just stolen kisses, first dates, holding hands, and smiles. It was pain too. It was the fear of not being enough, of being left behind.

It was true that love was anguish. But after nine years, Toura was able open her eyes to different aspects of love. She found it in her son’s laughter greeting her after a tiresome day. In her father’s jokes during tense moments. In her mother’s complaints about anything and everything. In her brother’s steadfastness especially when she needed it.

She saw it in the way Tooru looked at you.

“I doubt that,” Toura said.

“I doubt a lot of things,” Tooru replied.

“But never anything with her,” his elder sister said softly, looking at him in her periphery.

Tooru shook his head.

“You love her,” she said.

Tooru whispered, defeated. “I do.”

-

The next day brought a sense of déjà vu to Toura. She felt like she’s lived the scene before. A boy was leaving, off to chase his dreams. A girl was being left behind, to make do of what she had.

She had to remind herself that this was different. It was her brother, always keeping true to his name. He would go through everything life had to offer and he would commit to the things that he loved until the end. He was kind in his core, loyal to the ones he loved. He was not the scumbag who couldn’t make up his mind nine years ago.

It was you, the wisest and most understanding person Toura has ever met. You thought of everything carefully and thought of everyone deeply. You were not the naïve girl who acted impulsively and just hoped for the best.

“Just try and forget me, smart girl. I’ll come for you when you least expect it,” Toura heard her brother say.

Toura always felt the need to guard her brother from the world, especially after all the brutality that she has experienced. No matter how hard she tried, this was something she could never accomplish.

When it was time for Tooru to enter his gate, Tooru looked back, just once, just at you. You returned his gaze and offered an exaggerated smile. Tooru laughed.

This was the last image of himself that he left in the minds of those he loved before he left. You made that happen. Toura wished that you were there to make him laugh all the time, even when it was difficult for him.

So before the world shifted again, while you were still within Toura’s reach, she made a silent plea, an older sister’s prayer for her little brother—

“Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. But he had given you his heart. Please, keep it safe.”

—this is somehow related to my other oikawa fic HERE

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