#anyhow i have to go back adieu

[koishua]

hi hello i feel like i was hit by a truck

#tp #thr last two days were so good tho oml my camp rock fantasies have come true #last night we had a campfire for three hours and sang songs one by one #everyone was so good it felt euphoric #they brought mics and boxes and the (handsome) coach played the guitar for us as we sang and sometimes he sand his own songs too #and it was just all so good #they are all such nice people ugh #also my shattered sense of self worth has been regained bc of that campfire pfft #all it took was the whistles and applauses smh #anyhow i have to go back adieu #also my entire right arm feels like it's been run over by a car... multiple times #who knew four hours of playing the drums could do that 😔 #no but i think i have found my new passion omfl drums might just be the best thing on the planet #drummer!vie was an entire vibe #i LOVED riding the beats so so much smh #my newly discovered talent y'all #twirling my hair tho bc the coaches told me that i had a very impactful way of singing #my heart y'all i swear i was flying actually

[originemesis]

@deathinfeathers xxx

"Are you going to keep rubbing that shit in my face for the rest of our brimstone besprinkled lives? I wasn't hunting you down! You were dead!! I was hunting down the bitch who I assumed was wearing your GODDAMNED GRUB EATEN SKIN!!" It sounds significantly more deranged when you say it out loud, doesn't it? But it seemed reasonable enough of an assumption at the time. More reasonable than the notion that he'd survived the pygmy slut's assault and crawled off to suck on some flat-faced degenerate plutocrat in a shitty suit anyhow. "And for your information--" There she goes, swinging her legs over the lip of the sill she'd been riveted to for the past five hours and taking to her feet. An accusatory finger is jabbed in his direction like the business end of a blessed spear. She presses onwards. "--he was actually pretty torn up about the whole ordeal!" Torn up about how torn up she was, rather, but torn up all the same. Of course that had changed when the true extent of his dirty dealings had come to light...at this point in time she wouldn't put it past Michael to do a little celebratory jig if he did manage to relieve Adam of his head. God, his fatalistic frame of mind is infuriating. She wants to fight, make no mistake about that. She wants the catharsis that always accompanies a good ol' noisy squabble, it never lasts but it feels good in the moment; a release. But she wants to feel bad afterwards, because she was unduly cruel, maybe stew in it for an hour or two before the compulsion to apologize takes the reigns and she drags her feet over to do just that. Apoligize. And when she has said her sorries, and he has said his, then she wants everything to be alright again. To bid adieu to another shitty ass day, crawl under the sheets and fall asleep to the smell of his skin, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his warmth seeping into her flesh... She wants to fight—but it's all so exhausting. That scornful digit falls from the air to hang limply at her side like a popped balloon, before she has a chance to prod at his chest with it. "Adam—" A breath squeezed through pinched lips, she turns to hunch over the kitchen counter, elbows on the edge, head planted firmly in the cradle of her palms. "—can you please—please try to work with me here. Or, alternatively, tell me to fuck off if that's what you'd prefer...to go back to whatever life and identity you've carved out for yourself here? I will. I'll leave you be if you tell me to...I'll handle Michael, he's not going to be a persistent hurdle to you...but I need to hear you say it...if you don't want me around i need you to tell me—right now."

"I JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE 'THAT BITCH'- in case you forgot!? Like shit, Lute! I mean, I appreciate the sentiment and all, but you really couldn't recognize me? MY helmet at least stayed the fucking same!" Unlike hers...her whole being, really. He's still not sure what sorts of angel steroids that Sera could have sprinkled her with, but the evidence of a promotion that never was supposed to come to pass under his leadership was evident even now without all the frills of a uniform in place. Granted, he was never supposed to end up face first in a used condom filled ditch in hell either, so maybe she was on to something... grotesque as she had to put it- like always.

Sending a still sore about it scowl over towards her perch, it's with a lesson learned back pivot that he slides the hulking weight of his frame back onto a heel as she jabs at him. Her angelic weapon might not be out for another branding round, but he'd had enough of an encounter with it skinning the neck flap of his helmet that even the gesture of a spear had his remaining feathers fluffed in alarm. "Please- it's not like you're obligated to pat my ass down here. We both know he could give zero fucks with that mic-ropenis of his." No, he wasn't against making Mic-centric jokes still. If anything, they helped smooth his feathers down as he paced the length of the apartment under her unrelenting gaze. Considering he's all she has left now up behind the big, pearly-gates, the late Commander's not sure she'll share in his cathartic name calling, but it can't hurt that its brought his voice down a couple of octaves and the weight of his gaze light enough to swivel up under heavy lashes to listlessly consider her next round of tumultuous tweets.

"Babe—?"

He huffs back before she can project more of what he can only assume is more of her frustrations with the situation-... with him. Her complaints don't fall on deaf ears, though the hints of hell-grown feathers near where the tufts of his hair and the tops of his lobes meet flare backwards as if to cover them or at least filter the tone of her request until it convinced him to ride the long, hissing exhale of his lungs to a patch of level ground between them- mainly the counter top. Tucking in beside her, he propped his chin up on a palm and a fanned set of talons while the golden pinpricks in his toasted gaze swiveled sideways to regard her the way an entirely too tired cat might observe a bird through a bay window. "I didn't carve shit, y'know? I never wanted you to have to be around me like...well-" Gaze dropping to study the curves of the set of claws he rested upon the counter in front of him, he curled their tips under the harmless ends of hell-charred knuckles and sighed. "-like this...zero dick energy disaster." A light shuffle of his weight from one shoulder to the one closest to her indicated he still felt some magnetism to her despite the shame-riddled sentiment. "But that never changed the fact that I needed you...that I don't know how to even be without you. All this life you say I carved? Was just me clawing the fuck out of everything just to keep my head above the surface of this complete and utter shit show!"

With a dropped sigh, he scooted the balled up fist over to where she'd tucked her head. A light press of knuckles against the side of her cheek coaxed another cautious rumble out of his chest. "You gotta understand- I been through this before. Always falling short of what they wanted...expected. Ending up alone. I can't handle it again- not with you. Because unlike my previous 'tasks' from heaven, I actually chose this. I chose YOU...so I can't be here when you decide this-" A soft grunt aimed down at himself and the flick of a tail as it coiled around his calf signaled his unease, but he shook at it like a wet dog. "-was never what you wanted in the end."

With a shift, he swiveled on the barstool to face inwards, cheek still propped precariously in his palm as he addressed her with a strained frown, lips a twitch from parting into a puff. "Because I-...fucking hell, Lute..." Thoughts of her perched in his lap with clumsy fingers lingering over the notes on an old bass he'd insisted on showing her coaxed the lightest quirk to the corner of his mouth, his eyes flashing with the sentiment his lips seemed hung on.

I fucking love you. "...don't leave."

#//the cheep cheeps got me all torn up #//so they must tear u up as swell! happy bday biatch #deathinfeathers #verse ; // dead on arrival #long post

[whimsiandwild]

A Grand Performance [WIP]

With a flourish, the bard held his tricorn out to his adoring crowd as he bowed. He accepted their praise, and gold, with exaggerated gratitude, insisting they were being too kind. Of course, he didn’t believe that for a second; this had been one of his most outstanding performances in his recent travels around Grenley. His favourite thing, however, about this county was how easy these distracted saps were to rob.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a halfling’s head appear above his audience. After some quick hand signals from her, he grinned and straightened, his hat feeling satisfyingly full.

“It is with a heavy heart and many thanks, my good fellows, that I must bid you adieu. Now, now,” he laughed, his free hand up in apology to the disappointed crowd. “You have been captivating but there are many more places in this great world that need hear stories only I can tell.”

His halfling friend, now quite antsy, was waiting a little to the side of the fountain, gesturing for him to wrap is up.

“Remember, fair Grenliens, to listen closely to the wind; for it shall soon hail the return of the great Thom Evendur-!”

Evidently, his friend’s patience had worn thin. Thom had been so engaged in his performance, he hadn’t noticed the halfling jump up beside him and grab a fistful of his collar, the man doubled over as she marched him away.

“If you wish for us to keep up this scam, Lid, you’ll need to let go. Can hardly perform if my back stays like this,” Thom muttered, his free hand trying desperately to keep his precious coin in his hat. “I was almost done, anyhow.”

“You’re a bloody liar, Thom Evendur,” Lidda huffed, giving him a little shove as she released him. “I never heard no on who liked their own voice so much! Bloody bards!”

Thom couldn’t help smiling at his friend’s frustration; for a halfling, Lidda was one of the most unfriendly he’d ever met. Now that he was finally able to focus on the treasure in his tricorn, his brown eyes lit up as he counted.

“Gods, we’ve got about twenty gold here! We may actually be able to sleep in beds tonight!”

Tossing a coin into the air and catching it quite expertly, Thom gave a hearty laugh as he began to place every precious piece into his pouch, pulling the rope tight and knotting it. It had been feeling a little light since leaving Torleigh, and he was thankful Freland was closer to the city; people were much more generous here.

“Bugger just a bed, we’re gonna be eatin’ good, too, Thomas.”

Lidda covertly opened her satchel to allow Thom a peek at the goods her deft fingers had been able to attain during the end of his show. The bag was almost brimming with an assortment of jewels, gold, silver, and trinkets, Thom’s grin only widening. A rogue and a bard always made the most wondrous of teams.

Accepting all praise and criticism. Please leave all gold in my inbox.

#title is tbc #original characters #og writing #original writing #writing #my writing #writeblr #writers on tumble #bard #human bard #rogue #halfling rogue #fantasy #high fantasy

[shortiedreams]

Supermarket rendezvous

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

Synopsis: You and Bakugo go shoplifting but it somehow becomes romantic.

Word count: 842

CW: None :)

_

With as much capacity your arms had to offer, you dig into the rack of candies, pouring them into the severely ‘unsuspicious’ empty backpack you brought in. Bakugo is in the savory aisle, also plucking out random bags of chips from the immense stock.

He meets you at a designated spot near the counter in which the both of you had previously agreed to coincidentally bump into each other. You see the boy sporting his inane sunglasses and he leans ever so shadily at the quarter. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you walk up to your partner in crime. 

When you slink up to him in hasty steps, he pulls down his sunglasses a bit to lower his eyes down on you friskily. You attempt to hit him on the arms but he dodges it swiftly and snickers.

“Ready?” you question, rolling your eyes at your failed attempt.

“Oh when was I ever not.” he sneers, “Are you ready though?”

His mock in return aggravates you even more and you feel like punching him to death on the spot for satisfactory gains. However this was Bakugo Katsuki you were speaking of, and this is merely his usual mannerisms.

“Ready.” you reply, deadpan.

“Then here we go!” 

Tugging you past the line of customers, you practically bump into everyone in the way because unlike Bakugo, your miniature physique simply could not muster up ample force to shove people aside. The audible grumbles increase in volume each time you collide into another customer, though it wasn’t like either of you cared enough to stop.

“Teens nowadays.” you hear a man criticise, and Bakugo uses this opportunity to shove even harder afterwards in order to annoy everyone.

Anyhow, the both of you make it past the exit and now the barcode scanners are alarming at your unpaid items. You give Bakugo one certain look before he grasps your hand and starts to sprint away from the grocery store at record speed now that the crowd is clear.

As you run off into the distance, you can hear the staff yelling behind you but with the speed that the both of you were pacing off at, couldn’t keep up.

He sticks up his glasses up his golden hairline to laugh in unison with you at the perfectly executed shoplift. You carry your snacks through an absent-mindedly zipped backpack and the bags of chips under his arm crunched against each other rewardingly, reminding you of your success. Bands of tangerine hues skims down his suave mien, some managing to seep into his eyes, ultimately reflecting an unequivocal beauty you couldn’t put into words. All you know was that they were the colours of euphoria between two crazy lovebirds. 

“Come on! Keep up the pace,” he encourages, “You wouldn’t want the old hag to catch up to you, right?” 

You scoff at his brazen remark at you, which genuinely seems to strive you to run at your limits. You know that the staff was already at a safe distance away so you really don’t have any other means to sprint this quickly other than to impress Bakugo.

At this point you were panting nonstop and your hands were numbing from his tight markedly grasp. 

Despite your efforts, Bakugo still deems you as ‘weak with bad stamina’ and starts piggybacking you midway through the carpark. You weren’t complaining a bit as the sight of Bakugo mingling in the sunset as the comfortable breeze dashes through your hair was an idyllic combination you never realised you needed. 

You aren’t sure how the man before you had the ability to sprint back to the UA dorms at such a consistent pace, but you do notice how your heart skips a bit each time he does this. What can you say when you’re in love with the prime athlete on campus.

The thoughts of what to say and how to confront him later made the mood increasingly awkward, after all this was the most contact you’ve made since the both of you officially became a thing. You are sure he is thinking the same as he grows abnormally quiet.

“You are so heavy you know.” he says meekly, the insult losing all its initial power he garnered in his head. 

“Shut up.” Your response barely holding any more assertion than his

As you arrive at the gates of Heights Alliance, you bid him a bashful adieu. He says nothing and only nods back at you with his hands fiddling in his pockets. The both of you leave each other, blushing and blaming it on the sun.

The following week continues to remain awkward but you eventually reunite again, blatantly missing each other’s corny jokes and presence. As egotistical Bakugo may come across, he couldn’t live without your company. This was something he’d rather die than having to admit but it was an unspoken truth that you by some means acknowledged.

You smile to yourself subconsciously during class and Bakugo flicks your forehead to bring your giddy self back to earth. 

“Hey! I was-”

“Daydreaming of me? Yeah, I know.”

#bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #fluff #mha #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader

[savedgames]

INCOMING MESSAGE — WIDOWMAKER

【 𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙻𝙾𝙶: 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 】 :// @agent-lacroix sent: goodbye (Widow)

goodbye : my  muse  kissing  and/or  hugging  your  muse  goodbye.

          ❝ You worry too much, mon amour, ❞ she assures him with a faint giggle as she straightens his tie for him. ❝ Telling me to be safe~. I’m only making a quick trip to the mall while you’re away at work. Nothing to worry about. ❞  It was she who should be worrying, Amélie thinks. As safe as his work kept him in comparison to the active field agents, she wasn’t stupid enough to think that spared him from danger entirely. ❝ Now . . .❞  she murmurs, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his lips. ❝ Go on, Gérard. Or you’ll be late~. ❞ 

          She couldn’t have known she’d never make it back that day, that maybe his worries were well-founded. . . . (Who could have known that Overwatch’s enemies would resort to targeting their loved ones?)

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

          She’d felt half numb for what felt like weeks, now — the brief moments she could recall with any clarity, anyhow. With what she’d managed to absorb from ambient conversation, it wasn’t so surprising anymore. Neither was the way he almost hovered over her in an almost perpetual state of worry. Snatched almost out from under his nose by their biggest enemy — unable to be found until she suddenly reappeared. Of course he would worry. 

          She didn’t mind it, really — she loved him dearly, it was the one feeling that wasn’t somehow dulled by whatever had happened to her. Which made it all the more surprising when her first thought upon waking in the dead of night was to kill the man sleeping beside her. She’s barely had time to register the thought before she finds herself padding down the darkened hallway, and it takes a moment to register that she’s headed towards the kitchen. A moment — little more than time to blink — and she’s seated beside him, a knife in hand and the faint dampness of a few tears slipping down her cheeks.

          Why is she doing this? More importantly, why couldn’t she stop herself? A single hand lifts, thumb gently brushing against his cheek. She leans down after a moment, her lips pressing to his. ❝ I’m sorry, my love, ❞ she whispers, voice cracking with tears, even as she feels the hand with the knife lift. ❝ Adieu. Veuillez me pardonner. . . ❞

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

          A sharp inhale accompanies a sudden snap back to reality. She feels oddly cold for a moment, but that passes as quickly as it had come. The sniper feels a sudden ache in her chest, even as he stares at her in evident confusion. Only to be expected, given she’d entirely zoned out for what she was sure was a minute or two. A soft scoff escapes her as her arms cross, amber eyes shifting away. ❝ Do not look at me like that . . . ❞ she mutters, fingers fidgeting against her arms. Why were they here again? Ah, yes, for some reason he’d come to bid her farewell before leaving for a mission. Laughable.

          But the normal thought felt strangely . . . out of place, suddenly. (Just as sudden as the fear for his well-being. . . .) For a moment, silence falls between them — somehow both awkward and comfortable. Then, he’s turning to leave, and before she can stop herself she’s grabbing his wrist, turning him to her. A beat, and then both hands shift to his cheeks, her lips press to his. She feels as tough her skin is on fire where it touches his — and not only from the difference in temperature. Then she’s forcing herself back — one step . . . then two — a flush of color warming her cheeks faintly. ❝ Forgive me. . . . I don’t know what came over me. ❞ If he listened as he finally left the room, he’d hear a faint whisper.

          ❝ Tu ferais mieux de me revenir sain et sauf, idiot. ❞

#agentlacroix #// kidnapping mention #// murder mention #★ ~ INVENTORY: [CHAT LOG] Whisper #★ ~ INVENTORY: [CHAT LOG] Cinematic #— ooh my first official drabble owo #— I hope you enjoy your angst Alistair :D #— OKAY SO NORMALLY I DRAFT EVERYTHING BUT GOD FUCKING DAMN IT I'M TOO PROUD OF THIS #★ ~ CHARACTER SELECT: WIDOWMAKER #★ ~ LEVEL SELECT: [WIDOWMAKER] Swan Song

[jacethebeltsculptor]

Sephia “Fae” Rose - A Planebound OC!

So, I've wanted to get in on this whole MtG rp thing for awhile- it seems super fun. I have a character I like to write for and think about, so without further adieu, I present to the internet- Sephia! Sephia is a U/B telepath and information broker, born on and living in the plane of Ravnica. She's going on her 18th birthday, which is in the early winter. She specializes in memory magic, being adept at erasing, altering, and stealing memories- with varying degrees of collateral damage. In particular, she's often fond of stealing the memories of useful spells from her opponents, turning their most potent weapons against them.

Sephia is a young woman (17) with short, black, layered hair. She’s of a short stature and small frame, with sharp, blue eyes that seem to pick things apart to their basic points. She dresses in common clothing, purchased from the tailors of the slums she calls home. She could easily afford to dress a bit more stylishly, but she knows that nobody is ignored more than the poor. Sephia’s only jewelry comes in the form of a pendant which seems to shift colours with a small gem that changes colours with the leylines near it. It’s more than a trinket, though, as it allows Sephia to filter mana into various colours to cast her plethora of stolen spells. It is clearly not of Ravnican make, however- the ornate copper filigree suggests Kaladesh. It was purchased from a traveler. Generally, she has a mischievous look to her, and is often compared to the Fae that flit about in Ravnica’s streets- hence her nickname, “Fae”.  Sephia is  a cunning individual who thinks it terms of costs and benefits, and has a knack for planning several steps ahead. She’s strong and self-determined, occasionally to a fault. She dislikes unknown variables, and other people are often the most unpredictable. As a result, she dislikes relying on others without a backup plan.  Her career as an independent information broker has taught her to take a transactional approach to her personal relationships- she detests trading something for nothing, and always pays her debts as quickly as possible. Sephia knows all too well that nothing is more valuable than a favour. She thoroughly enjoys games of strategy- particularly chess- and revels in puzzles. She enjoys testing herself intellectually, and bettering her abilities through it. As a policy, however- she will never use her telepathic abilities to cheat. In a game, anyhow. Her personality is an aloof and cocky facade, used to mask the machinations of her mind. Sephia is always planning, and tries to never seem like it. If you need a reference point on that, think Sombra from Overwatch. It’s not an exact match, but it’ll get you the idea.  She was born to guildless parents in the slums of Shadow Alley. Her parents did odd jobs for the criminal elements of Ravnica to scrape out a living. They were arrested and convicted by the Azorious, one after the other, while she was still young, leaving her on the streets of Shadow Alley. For years, she survived by begging and on the kindness of strangers. As she grew, her telepathic abilities began to manifest. As she began to familiarize herself with her powers, she became sick of living at the whims of others. She resolved to use her abilities, along with her cunning and tenacity, to build a life for herself in which nobody dictates her fate but herself. She became an information broker at the young age of 11, trading secrets and making networks of contacts for herself. Six years later, she has built a respectable network of informants and contacts throughout the Ravnican underbelly, and is fond of trading secrets for favours. Her alias- Fae is a well-known one among those who seek information. However, this is not the end. Someday, she aims to surpass even House Dimir as Ravnica’s most influential trader of secrets. Of late, she has begun to notice their agents following her- whether to offer her a job or to plunge a knife into her back, she isn’t sure. In her eyes, either is an admission that they fear her.  Finally, her surname “Rose” is self-given, chosen for it’s commonality as a surname, making it difficult to distinguish her by.  If anyone has any questions or wants to know more, please feel free to ask!! I’d love to talk more about it. 

#I feel like Fae is a lot like Sombra from Overwatch #if it helps to imagine her through that lens #mtg #magic the gathering #magic the gathering community #rp #fae #the reality is #sephia rose is just a really pretty name #i tried to inject a bit of meaning into it and #it would always sound terrible

[highglossfinish]

Wolf Children

Welcome to the 'highglossfinish' room. imsweetlyeclectic: hello~ imsweetlyeclectic: not quite night though XD thenightetc: Hello! imsweetlyeclectic: heya! Knock Out: Hello there! imsweetlyeclectic: how are ya? imsweetlyeclectic: darn. that color is annoyingly bright Knock Out: Excellent, as a matter of fact. thenightetc: So, I'm not familiar with this movie.  Is this a "good movie to enjoy for itself" night, or a "bad movie to enjoy mocking" night? imsweetlyeclectic: perfect~ Knock Out: A good movie to enjoy for itself night. thenightetc: Nice, nice :) Knock Out: We'll fit in some mockery next time. imsweetlyeclectic: even better~

thenightetc: Yiiiiikes imsweetlyeclectic: this sounds like an interesting movie Knock Out: How's the volume for everyone? imsweetlyeclectic: i like thenightetc: Good over here! Knock Out: Perfect! Shockbox: Greetings. thenightetc: Hi! imsweetlyeclectic: heyo! thenightetc: The movie only just started. imsweetlyeclectic: and it promises to be a n interesting one Knock Out: Just working out the bugs before we get into the heart of it. Shockbox: Hm, take your time. Knock Out: There we are. thenightetc: ...There are two ways to take that. imsweetlyeclectic: i know, right? XD thenightetc: a little ominous agooddistraction: what agooddistraction: oh he's a porcupine? Knock Out: That he is. thenightetc: Well then Knock Out: Look at them go. agooddistraction: Oh thenightetc: ...Well imsweetlyeclectic: XD imsweetlyeclectic: that was... unexpected thenightetc: ...Human relatives or wolf relatives? thenightetc: Oh, that looks good agooddistraction: uhoh thenightetc: *wiiiiiiince* agooddistraction: she eat somethin' bad? thenightetc: She's pregant. thenightetc: *pregnant agooddistraction: she's tryin' to throw up the baby? Knock Out: Probably. agooddistraction: uh oh thenightetc: That would actually be less horrifying than how childbirth actually works, so imsweetlyeclectic: very true. Knock Out: Well, they wasted no time getting back in the saddle. agooddistraction: Ha thenightetc: Ohhhhh dear agooddistraction: Bummer thenightetc: ...So she couldn't have had anyone else watch the kids, either thenightetc: Poor Hana Knock Out: That probably would have helped. thenightetc: Oh noooo thenightetc: What an utter nightmare thenightetc: AT least she doesn't have to worry about them being seen now, I guess Knock Out: No more pesky concerns like social workers or functioning roofs. thenightetc: Or plumbing, it sounded like thenightetc: ...Oooor structural integrity Knock Out: But on the plus side, there's plenty of rats to eat. thenightetc: I think that may BE a plus for the kids Shockbox: As much as I would like to continue watching this, I am about to pass out. Adieu. thenightetc: Goodnight! imsweetlyeclectic: nini! Knock Out: Goodnight! thenightetc: But the guy said animals would come and destroy things thenightetc: Seems like some fencing or something is in order thenightetc: ...Ouch imsweetlyeclectic: nasty man. thenightetc: What the hell agooddistraction: gotta run, have fun thenightetc: Goodnight! imsweetlyeclectic: good night~ Knock Out: Good night! thenightetc: ...I'm glad they can finally have something nice Knock Out: Well, that was short lived. thenightetc: *spoke too soon, apparently* thenightetc: oh nooooo thenightetc: ...oh :< thenightetc: that's such a grim, bare little cage Knock Out: What, you mean to tell me wolves don't like living on concrete? thenightetc: And all alone Knock Out: Well, that's tragic. thenightetc: Yeah thenightetc: Ouch. thenightetc: And there it is thenightetc: poor kid imsweetlyeclectic: poor kid... thenightetc: Great, now he's followed her HOME, too? Knock Out: Ew. thenightetc: Why this Knock Out: Come in through her window at night. Write her threatening letters. Give her a bag of your hair. That should make her want to be around you. thenightetc: *snerk* thenightetc: It's the old guy, isn't it thenightetc: ...Ohhh. thenightetc: This animation is beautiful Knock Out: It really is. imsweetlyeclectic: it's gorgeous thenightetc: ...well, so much for "never" thenightetc: ...They could... take him to a vet? thenightetc: I thought the rangers did that whole "helping injured animals" thing thenightetc: He doesn't *have* to die of an injured leg Knock Out: What does he even do for that mountain anyway? Knock Out: Is he some kind of magic fox? thenightetc: Maybe? thenightetc: Didn't they say it was a two and a half hour drive to the school Thebes: ... I am late but I recall this movie! thenightetc: Hey! Thebes: excellent choice! Knock Out: Thank you! thenightetc: Ohhh no thenightetc: good lord imsweetlyeclectic: knew that mom was a *** thenightetc: you're TEN thenightetc: ohhhh dear Knock Out: No he isn't. thenightetc: Ah yes, he's going to go off and be a wolf, forever, at age ten thenightetc: Sound plan fo rthe future Knock Out: Leaving his mother in a parking lot, soaking wet, no socks or anything... thenightetc: man, what if the child services people come back thenightetc: "WHere's your other kid"  "the mountain took him" Knock Out: Hah! Knock Out: And she left her other child at the school with nasty little wrestle boy. Knock Out: Wasting food. thenightetc: Mmmhm. thenightetc: ...It's not like there are even any other wolves up there imsweetlyeclectic: that was a beautiful movie thenightetc: I mean, it was, but also really senselessly tragic Knock Out: It really was, at least aesthetically. imsweetlyeclectic: beautifully tragic and heart wrenhing Thebes: agreed on the tragic descriptor. Knock Out: Society beat the individuality out of one and the other abandoned his family to...something something magic mountain? Knock Out: Dear Unicron, even this song is tragic. thenightetc: Wolves are pretty social animals.  I don't think the whole "living alone on a mountain" thing is going to work out. imsweetlyeclectic: me neither thenightetc: If he gets hurt, is he just going to.... die??? Knock Out: He'll either drown in another river or creep down to live in his mother's basement. thenightetc: Like the fox? Thebes: ... also, last I checked, Japanese wolves are so endangered they're practically extinct, if they're not at this point. Thebes: so he's gonna STAY pretty lonely thenightetc: yeah thenightetc: There's not going to be, like, another werewolf cub for him to teach thenightetc: There's not a tradition he NEEDS to carry on Knock Out: His sister might have children and keep the species going, but they'll share wrestle boy's genes. That's not good for anyone's species. imsweetlyeclectic: XD Knock Out: Anyhow, I hope you all enjoyed that cheerless bit of storytelling. thenightetc: Yes!  Thank you very much. :) imsweetlyeclectic: i love getting kicked in the feels Knock Out: Don't we all? imsweetlyeclectic: well, i'd better go check on tumblr again. Knock Out: Thank you all for coming! thenightetc: (@thebes, I'm still at the library, won't be on IM for a couple hours still) Thebes: (k!) thenightetc: Annnnd goodnight Thebes: thank you for this!  good night!

#Stream chats

[mymusicalitylove]

thank u, next!

I have felt this entry brewing, but haven’t found the complete motivation (or let’s be honest, the time to dedicate) to get my ass on the laptop to let it surge from me, as I’ve felt it swirling in my brain the last couple weeks. 

I think I am at a good place in my life; these are my last few days prior to turning 33, and I truly feel a positive energy about what this year will bring me. I have already started, and will continue with my travel adventures... 

This past weekend’s 2019 debut adventure in SLO/Morro Bay: to explore Hearst Castle and all the overly fancy things it has for you to feast your eyes on. A coworker of mine and I joke that I am Belle from Beauty in the Beast, and I found myself completely infatuated with the grand library, just like Belle was in the Beast’s enchanted castle. I mean seriously, how intricate all the details of every wall/ceiling/piece of furniture of this castle were. Personally, I could not imagine having that much extravagance as my “vacation home” because I am a plain Jane, but to think of how much money is on that property.. dayum! I would really only want the library, because it was gorgeous. Okay, and maybe some of the gardens, too. And SLO, I fell in love with. Such a cute downtown area and all the little shops! I definitely shopped my little heart out on cute ass shit I don’t need, but loved and had to have. 

Next week’s adventure: to meet my dearest little sheronalet in North Carolina, and to fit in as many newborn snuggles into one week as I can! He has already stolen my heart just from pictures, and auntie Bo0 cannot wait to squeeze him and cover him in besos. Also looking forward to some serious Sherona bonding time with my NC folk. 

March’s adventure: to spend more time with my bestie and my growing peanut in Washington, and explore the tiny little town they now call home. I really am blessed to have so many littles all over the country for me to love on whenever I want. #professionalauntieairlines

April’s adventure: Italia. I have secured a partner-in-crime now, so it won’t be a solo journey like planned, but I am excited to start planning our excursions and see what troubles we can get into!

Further 2019 adventures still TBD.. but not a bad start to the first quarter, right?!

Now, let’s get to what my brain has needed to unload.. 

After the heartbreak of my life about three years ago, I ended up a shell of my former self, and resulted with a fucked up and jaded point of view towards relationships. I went through the grief, the loss of myself, the fatality of a dream that was never given the opportunity to shine, the realization that even though I was sure he was “the one”.. he wasn’t, or it would have been, and the lengthy, debilitating and then liberating process of getting back to becoming myself again. I fell in love with him, and I fell hard. Harder than I ever had before. And getting back up from it was truthfully one of the darkest times in my life. And I feel I did most of the damage to myself. My expectations. My fantasized dreamland. The pure abandon and openness of my heart to give to someone who I thought would help me grasp everything I always wanted. To someone who no matter how hard I tried, could not let me in; even though in his defense, I honestly think he tried to the best of his ability at the time. He had his own demons to face, and it was just not meant to be. The purpose of him in my life at the time didn’t hit me until a lot later, but I selfishly maintained hope (for way too long) that if we faced our own demons separately, we would eventually end up back together. He was everything I had not had before and desperately wanted, but that hope has become less than a distant memory, and more like a torturous joke I played on myself. Although I’d like to think I am completely over that situation, I still think he will forever hold a small piece of my heart until the day I die. And that’s okay. I am at peace with that.

Enter Ariana Grande: her words resonated with me from the first time I heard them in this song, and fell in line because my three major relationships have each taught me something different.   

One taught me love

One taught me patience

And one taught me pain

Now, I'm so amazing

I've loved and I've lost

But that's not what I see

So, look what I got

Look what you taught me

And for that, I say

Thank you, next

I'm so fuckin' grateful for my ex

After healing from the one who ‘taught me pain’ I put myself back together in a slightly different way. Closed off, numb, guarded, and walls for days. I casually dated for about a year, wanting nothing from anyone but the ability to say that this serial monogamist had “played the field”. Guess what? I had my fun and it served its purpose, but I am still a serial monogamist at heart, and I always knew that deep down. The layers and layers of protection needed to come down some time, and I feel that they finally came down this past May. 

Enter unexpected, wonderful series of interactions with a handsome and appealing man who I will likely never see again. I feel that since meeting that patient’s son, I restarted a search for “my person” because those arbitrary interactions actually made me want to feel again, and reignited my desire to want to open up to someone and be vulnerable again.

I’ve had a lot of internal monologue about what I want (and don’t want) in a relationship, and just wants in my life in general. I’ve recently lost a significant friendship for reasons I feel could have been handled completely differently, but it is what it is. This unexpected loss caused me to reach a lot of realizations regarding all other relationships in my life. About continuing to invest in the ones that matter, and letting others go because they are no longer worth my precious time. I’ve also realized that I have often felt taken for granted. I don’t claim to be perfect; in fact, I know I’m far from it. But I do know that I am a rare breed, and I have grown into myself at a quicker pace than I feel most others my age have due to all the experiences under my belt. I continue to learn more and further love who I am every single day. There are also days where I can’t even stand myself, but even those are moments to learn from and take steps towards the ever-changing process of becoming the best version of myself. 

About 3 weeks ago I joined a dating site. Not one of those hook-up apps - an actual dating site that you pay for, with about 100 questions (probably 25 of which are actually unique, just repeated in several ways to make sure you’re consistent) asking about your personality/likes/dislikes. I was given the impression that this would be a different experience because this is a method where people actually want to meet someone serious and put their own hard earned money towards that goal.. let me tell you, not so different from the bullshit apps. Up until today, I did not have any meaningful connections with anyone and was thinking I got swindled out of my moneys for something I frankly had greater success with on one of the gratis hook-up apps! 

Shortly after opening this dating account, I watched a movie that was sort of mirroring my feelings of this whole “online dating world” in a comedic way. I truthfully do not thrive with this medium of meeting people; I’m old fashioned in wanting to meet people organically, and not because of some stylized way I am being viewed through filtered pictures and clever quips about who I am. Staying true to my “old soul” personality and realizing more often these days, I do not belong in this generation. But anyhow, this movie made me laugh so hard in many scenes because the female character resembled me, and the male character shared traits with different men in my life that I have been, or continue to be drawn to. There was one scene in the movie that unexpectedly made me tear up, and it was then and there that I realized how many times I have been taken for granted in my life. 

Enter movie scene: male and female character are sitting in bed after a meaningful and eye-opening couple of days, sharing a meal. They are discussing the woman’s previous relationship/broken engagement.

Male: “He’s so screwed.” (referring to her ex-fiance) 

Female: “What do you mean?”

Male: "You said that he met you in high school, right? So, he thinks that you are a ‘certain type of girl', and he thinks that he will meet that same type of girl later in his life, when he’s ready, but… when he’s ready, that girl’s not going to be there. He has no idea how rare you are."

Enter single insta-tear down my face. This spoke to me in so many ways because I feel that although I may not be everyone’s cup of tea, I am a pretty damn good woman who has a lot to offer to someone capable of appreciating my worth. I cannot tell you how many times I have been sought out after the fact, just because people realize what they had, now that they no longer have it. Boyfriends, guys I dated, friends, and it continues to be a common theme in my life. I try not to take someone for granted to that degree because I’d like to think that I am the type of person who gives people probably way too many chances. Conversely, when I am done, I am done and there’s no convincing me otherwise after that switch has been flicked. I know that I have taken people for granted in the past, but I think I have learned a lot from those experiences and try not to make those same mistakes. 

I am hopeful to see what the remainder of this three-month membership/sentence of this dating site has in store for me. At the very least, I went out of the online dating world with a bang (to my bank account)! And with that, I bid you adieu. My brain sure feels a lot lighter. #success

01/17/2019 - 2:27 AM

[from-a-distant-end]

hello! you all may know me as the person who makes (used to make, more accurately) manga edits for this teeny fandom, or you may know me as this-world-of-his, a somewhat inactive Miharu rp blog, but anywho, I also wrote the first chapter of that Nabari no Ou - Harry Potter crossover 

and since its been years and i couldnt seem to get past the first chapter for anxiety reasons, I figured if anyone was interested still, I could upload the parts I have written already, including wand selection in Diagon Alley, in the train to Hogwarts with Harry, Ron and Hermione and the naberry children I decided to take along with Miharu and Yoite. and I believe other random moments that’ll make its way onto here for you to read as well.

so I’ll upload the parts I find in the order I find them in because my folders are a mess and to sort through them chronologically and upload them in that manner would be time consuming when tbh I’d rather just get it all out there without going through that much trouble. so without further adieu, thank you and I’m sorry. 

“It’s a school?” Yukimi repeated incredulously. “In England. And you want to go?”

“Miharu’s going,” Yoite clarified.

“Oh, is he?” The blond man turned his attention to the youngest ninja sitting contently upon the couch, juice box resting within his grasp. “You’re a member of Kairoushuu, kid. We need you here in Iga and Banten, where eyes can be on you all the time. What happens if some creepy ninja’s in England and kidnaps your guys’ asses, huh? Then what am I supposed to do? I’m not wasting money on airfare to rescue you. How’re you even gonna get there, does the little letter tell you that?”

Miharu nodded, emerald eyes tiredly glued to the baseball game upon the television. “It says transportation is provided. We just wait at the location that’s written and someone will pick us up and take us to… Diagon Alley.”

“I say no. I can’t let you go now, okay? I don’t care how legit this is made out to be. We almost have all the forbidden technique scrolls and as soon as we get our hands on that Engetsurin, we’ll be good to go.”

“He said we’ll be safe there. It’s a magic school, Yukimi. Ninja can’t get in,” Miharu continued. “Something’s coming after us, from their world.”

“You don’t know that. You’re as safe here as you’d be anywhere else in the world. Why listen to that old coot anyhow?”

“He seemed like a real wizard,” the youngest countered bluntly.

Yukimi scoffed. “Do you ever hear yourself, Miharu? Wizards aren’t real. They’re fairy tales; made up.”

“So are ninja, outside the Nabari World,” he defended quietly. “They have their own world too.”

Yukimi appeared unmoved. “You’re not going.”

“We’ll run away.”

“Like hell you will,” he huffed. “Yoite, move. You’re taking up the couch.”

“Let us go,” Yoite demanded lowly, watching the blond plop down beside him.

“Is this some kind of conspiracy? Get off my back. No means no.”

Miharu allowed a small frown to slide onto his features. He slipped off the sofa. “C’mon, Yoite, I think if we get everything packed now, we’ll be ready by the time they come,” Miharu suggested lightly, walking to the jacket he had placed on the coat hanger.

“Kid, would you stop messing around?” Yukimi warned, but nevertheless, rose as well with slight concern the two children in his care would somehow find their own ways to England.

“Will you take us there?”

Yukimi remained still. “What am I supposed to tell your grandma?”

“I’m moving in with you.”

“She doesn’t even know me!”

 ----

They had boarded trains many, many times in the past; living in Japan, that was essential for any traveling one might do. The pair had become glaringly familiar with the processes of departing and arriving. However, the ticket lightly grasped in Miharu’s fingers was surely mistaken in its platform number. He wrinkled his nose, sighing as he lowered it back down to his lap after reading it over for what seemed to be the hundredth time that half-hour.

“I don’t think they numbered it right, Yoite,” Miharu mumbled, absently handing the paper to his companion, eager to release it from his hold. “It says Platform 9¾. Trains aren’t numbered like that in Japan so… What do we do?”

“We could ask someone,” Yoite suggested quietly, his slightly blurred vision scanning the sea of people bustling by, miraculously somehow all unable to crash into one another.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“You can ask.”

Miharu shook his head silently. “I don’t want to.”

“Me neither.”

“Did you notice a bunch of people would be over there with a lot of stuff and animals,” Miharu pointed towards a brick pillar stranded in the center, “then they’d just be gone? There’re too many people.” Yoite stood, Miharu’s green eyes darting to him in question before rising himself. “And I don’t even see some get on any trains. Where do you want to go?”

“We should look around.”

“Yeah. Maybe we missed it.”

The pair gathered their belongings and proceeded to venture into the mass of wandering train-boarders. The young ninja was sure to catch of glimpse of every platform sign (they walked by seven, eight, nine, and even ten) though it began to make him more and more uneasy about being in England, especially if he and Yoite couldn’t even locate a simple train. How were they supposed to get to their school? Perhaps this was all a joke. Miharu’s heart sank at the notion and fingered the seemingly authentic letter sitting in his pocket, stealing a troubled glance at the older boy.

“Do you want to rest again?” Miharu asked, halting beside Yoite. After making their dawdling round to each of the platforms, according to the ticket, their train was due to head off in less than ten minutes. “We’re gonna be late anyway,” he added bluntly. “We can just call Yukimi and ask him to fly out and get us. Kouichi and Shijima are probably boarded by now. I didn’t charge my cell phone either.” Miharu leaned his back on the brick wall behind him. Perhaps it was better this way, with Yoite’s Kira having so much of an effect on his body. The two of them would be gone for a whole year of school’s time. England’s time, Miharu reminded himself, fighting away an oncoming headache. That included three months off for summer, instead of one in May like in their home in Japan. It would definitely take some getting used to.

However, what would be the point in the end? Yoite wasn’t doing too well as it is, losing more and more of his senses, and… to be so many miles away from home? From comforting walls and floors, and people? And medicine? How long would Yoite even last once they arrived at the school? A month or two? Then what, the older boy… is gone one day,, perished into dust and Miharu would have means to even say goodbye, join him in his last few, precious moments? The school could be huge for all the pair knew. There were too many unanswered questions and Miharu suddenly understood all of Yukimi’s uncertainties and fears. England definitely wasn’t the place to learn dominance over the Fairy. One wrong move without the watchful eyes of hardened allied shinobi and he could topple London with a sneeze.

And being surrounded by magic for as long as their stay? Miharu slowed to a halt and peered at a crack near his shoe. Was that really smart? Was magic anything like chakra? 

“Excuse me, you’re in the way of the entrance,”

#nabari no ou #nabari #miharu rokujou #yoite #yukimi kazuhiko #my writing #nabari no ou crossover #my edit #using that tag bc thats my TAG FOR MY STUFF I WROTE THIS I DID NOT EDIT IT D; #MINE #*

[sadwizardjessi]

Space Grumps inspired fic

Yeah. I’m trash. And I’m obsessed with @dannyaviclan damn Space Grumps au right now. Seriously man, you all should go read it!! It’s stupid good :D SO anyhow, here’s a fic I wrote from it. Sorry if anything is odd or not right with the au. I tried to keep it all in line, but of course we all have different views on ideas so. Here’s mine :)

So without further adieu, here we go! Yeh.

Brian had really fucked him over this time.

Dan used a hand to shield against one of the blinding suns of this planet, squinting to battle the other. From what he could make out, desert went on for miles, stretching as far as the eye can see. Dan kicked at the red dust below his feet, not at all satisfied as it spun up into the air, lazily drifting back down into the dry soil.

To be perfectly honest, Dan wasn’t even sure what had happened.

One moment he and Brian were laughing at something fucking stupid, couldn’t even recall what it was at this point, the next Brian was silent, pulling out a red gem and shoving it into Dan’s hands, a wild look in his eyes. Through their telepathic link he had said, “Don’t let anyone catch you with this. I’ll be back soon.” Before forcefully shoving Dan into the transporter.

Said transporter wasn’t really meant for transporting live organisms any greater size than a goat…. Though Dan supposed, there probably weren’t goats in the future. At least not the ones he was used to seeing.

So after e had rematerialised on the odd planet's surface, jewel in hand, Dan had spent the next hour shouting at the sky for Brian to come back. After receiving no answer, Dan put away the gem in one of his many pockets and decided to walk. Eventually he’ll find civilization, right? Brian wouldn’t just abandon him for no reason, and on a deserted planet no less. He knew that because of Dan’s situation, he’d be the last person you’d want to leave alone on an alien planet and no way of contacting the one person he’d trusted since coming to the future.

There was no telling really with how long he walked. It could’ve been hours, it could’ve been days, he had no idea how the time cycle worked here after all. But what he did know was his throat burned from lack of supplement and his stomach growled in anger. Also Dan hadn’t managed to see one single being, human or otherwise, since he’d arrived here. He was pretty sure he was going to die.

At least that was until Dan saw a large and intimidating ship fly overhead, before touching the planet's surface not a few yards away, the force from the jet engines nearly knocking Dan over as the wind kicked up sand in his hair and eyes. Dan had to look away just so he could not breath the stuff in.

From what he could see, three men came off the ship, discussing something intensely before looking in Dan’s direction. Brian’s words of caution rang in his mind.

“Don’t let anyone catch you with this.”

So Dan ran. And he was pretty sure the creatures ran too upon noticing Dan’s hasty escape.

Already out of breath, Dan tried to formulate a plan. On one hand he could just toss the damn jewel at them. They had to be after that, right? Or maybe they just happened to see this random fucking person wandering an empty planet and thought ‘hey let’s scare the shit out of him’. Then Dan up and runs, making them suspicious.

He shook his head. No. Something in his gut told him this had to do with the jewel that was put into his possession.

ANd that’s when he saw it. A town. A real fucking town. Unless of course his mind was playing tricks, but Dan really hoped not, for he could hear the cascade of boots drawing closer. If he was slowing down or they were speeding up, he did not know.

And finally, just as a skyline of buildings were being materialised in a much more reachable distance. Dan could just make out a- hover bike?- As something caught on Dan’s foot, making him fall to the ground harshly, red sand going up his orifices and causing Dan to freeze up with a violent cough, giving his pursuers the time they needed to catch up to him.

Glancing down at what he had hit, Dan gasped at what looked like a… wooden post? One that had obviously been cut down though. He didn’t have time to ponder the odd placement of it though as he was being kicked over to lay on his back, three disgusting beings hovering over him, greed and hunger in their beady eyes.

Dan had to fight the urge to gag at the disgusting smell the men were radiating. ‘Where they even men, though?’ Dan thought to himself. They could just as easily be women, what with the black/grey wrinkled skin, and hunched over backs, and three arms, all wielding claws and what Dan could only assume to be a gun. More than anything, Dan wished Brian was here. If not to save him, to at least identify what kind of beasts these were so Dan would at least have something to go on.

They all clacked in unison, pincers hidden by black lips, clicking and hissing into what Dan could only assume to be words. He looked confused between the three, trying to convey his issue with their language without coming across as rude.

Then one pressed what appeared to be a pen against his neck, Dan flinching from it but as a grotesque hand held him against it, there wasn’t much Dan could do.

A sharp pain shot into his neck up to his head, but he wasn’t focused on that. His attention was solely on the fact that suddenly, he could understand them. It wasn’t a very comforting conversation though.

“-kill him already! We know he has the gem!”

“Oh shut up already, I shot the injection, he can hear you now!”

One of them did what Dan thought to be a scowl, glaring down at the human laying before them. “Uhh… yeah. Hello. What exactly did you do to me?” Dan asked, uneasily, waving a hand but instantly dropping it at the death glare he received.

One spit on Dan’s leg, where it sizzled slightly, not exactly burning, but not very pleasant either.

“Shut up, human, we know you have it!”

Feigning ignorance, Dan was suddenly sure the jewel was what they were after. “What!?” He exclaimed, trying to subtly crawl backwards, but they saw right through him and immediately shot at the ground behind him, causing Dan to freeze in place.

“Don’t play coy, boy. Just hand over the jewel, and we won’t hurt you.”

Dan remained silent, eyes frantically looking for an escape. He thought he’d seen some dust swirl oddly, as if around a human form, but he didn’t think too much on it as suddenly a gun was being pointed between his eyes, a sickening grin behind it on the wielder.

“Hmph, very well. We’ll just have to pry it from your cold, dead hands!”

Though the line was an obvious cliche, Dan felt true fear spike through his chest, his eyes squeezing shut tightly, body tense and trembling. WHy the fuck did Brian give him this stupid thing? Why did he just drop him off on some unknown planet, no help, no life, just danger and soon death. Were these people chasing Brian? Was Dan some form of distraction? Was that all he was to Brian? Dan didn’t want to make assumptions on his best friend, but what else could he gather from this? Sure he could just hand over the gem and run, but Dan was almost certain they’d shoot him regardless, no point in dying a coward. Dan cringed at himself as tears arose. But who could blame him, wanting to cry in his final moments.

Suddenly three shots rang out in the dry, empty desert, making Dan jump and whimper at the loud noise.

But no pain came. Only the sound of bodies dropping, something wet dashing his cheek, as a shadow passed over his closed eyelids. With great hesitance, Dan slowly opened one eye, afraid to see what else was about to befall him, but instead of the three disgusting aliens, he was met with a cocky grin full of sharp teeth, and a dull pink uniform, dotted slightly with blood.

The man put a hand on his hip, gun in the air, smoke still rising from the warm barrel. “What’s a human like yourself doing in a place like this, hm?”

Dan gasped at the tail that swished back and forth behind the man, glancing up nervously at those sharpened teeth and reptilian like pupils,but… this guy did technically, just save Dan. And for that he was grateful, if not confused. He looked back at the bodies, stomach seizing slightly. Blood and death tended to make him queasy. “Are you going to try and kill me too?” Dan asked dully. Brian had left him here to die after all.

The creature’s eyes widened slightly, gun hand falling as he shifted his stance, from cocky to surprised and then finally guilt. “Wha- no! I just- ugh sorry. I was trying to look cool.”

A gloved hand was extended in Dan’s direction, that ferocious smile turning somewhat more friendlier and closed lipped. “I’m Captain Arin Hanson. I pilot the star craft, Starbomb. But you can just call me Arin, okay? And you are?”

Dan eyed the suspiciously sharp looking glove, but… this was the future. And space. Maybe it was normal to have sharp teeth and a tail on some planets?

Reluctantly, Dan took the hand, gasping slightly when he was easily pulled up. “I uh. Hi. I’m Dan. Avidan. People usually call me Danny. I uh I don’t pilot anything,” he said with a slight chuckle, feeling the gem’s weight lessen slightly as he felt he was no longer being hunted for it. A smirk appeared on his lips though and suddenly he couldn’t help himself. “I help navigate on the Starship Enterprise.”

Arin’s grin twisted up into a grin of amusement, arms crossing after replacing his weapon. “I watch star trek, man. Try again.”

“They have Star Trek in the future!?” Dan exclaimed without thinking. Then followed by a wince. He cleared his throat, trying to cover up what he had unknowingly revealed. “Uhh. Sorry. My uhh, my ship flew off. Without me,” Dan said nervously, kicking at the dust and looking away. He wasn’t sure what to reveal and what not to reveal. It didn’t seem like this guy was after the gem, but Brian had said- You know what. No! Fuck Brian! Dan crossed his arms in a huff, suddenly not really caring what Brian had warned him. He’d left him on a new planet, knowing that Dan didn’t know jack shit about space other than the few things he’d bothered to explain to him since bringing him here. “My prick of a best friend handed me some stupid fucking gem and left me here, saying he’d ‘be back soon’. Whatever the fuck that could mean.”

A laugh truly like no other, Arin clapped Dan on the shoulder, making the thinner man jump slightly. “Damn, that sucks hella balls. Mind if I see that gem for a second though?” Dan eyed the- Dinosaur! That’s it. He looks like a Dinosaur/human/Lizard thing- warily, not sure if he should.

“Dude, come on, look. I’ll even let you hold my gun, okay?”

At the offer, Dan agreed, though only pulling out the gem after he held possession of the gun. Little did he know, Arin could easily take him down before Dan even raised his arm to aim.

Tossing the gem over in gloved hands, Arin looked at Dan in confusion. “Uhh, Dan? You know this jewel is fake, right?”

“What!?” Dan put the gun back in Arin’s holster, the sudden contact making Arin jump slightly, giving Dan the chance to snatch the gem back, examining it in the light. “How can you tell!”

With a pointed finger, Arin pointed to a scratch on the side, a wry grin in place. “See that right there? A real gem wouldn’t scratch like that. That and… well I can smell the chemicals that went into faking it.”

“Sonofabitch!” Dan threw the thing on the ground in a rare spark of anger, stress and fear and betrayal coursing through him. Arin placed a hand on Dan’s shoulders, seeing the human deflate suddenly, never one to really hold onto anger for very long. “Now what am I gonna do…?” Dan asked sadly. He surely couldn’t just wait here until Brian returns. Who knew when that would be. And besides, he didn’t have any money. Already his throat and stomach were assaulting him from all directions, begging for nourishment.

As if on cue, Dan’s stomach gave a loud noise, Dan groaning and covering it in shame.

Biting his lip, as if in thought, Arin opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by a blue beeping on a device that greatly resembled an old flip phone in Dan’s opinion. With an irritated sigh, Arin pulled up the device, flipping it open, wondering in quiet amusement, just what was so shocking about the blue hologram of his ship’s AI that caused the man to gasp and stare disbelievingly.

“Captain,” the hologram said, a smile in place. “All supplements have been procured on The Starbomb. All crew members have returned without fail. We await your arrival to take off.”

Glancing between the AI and the human before him, eyes still widened comically in wonder, hands held over a hungry belly.

“Hey Dan?”

Dan looked up at his savior in confusion, one scarred eyebrow raised. “Yeah, Arin?”

“How would you feel about joining my crew while in search of your friend? We’ll provide you with free food and shelter so long as you’re with us.”

Dan’s face went through an array of emotions, until settling on gratitude, a smile widening on his face. “You had me at free food, honestly.”

Arin laughed, clasping Dan’s hand and nodding down at Barry once more. “Barry! You heard the man, make preparations for one more Bomber to join our recruits! And Dan, I must say. Welcome aboard the Starbomb. Glad to have you on hand.”

#space grumps au #space grumps #my fic #I hope you guys like this? #I know it's not like the best but I really enjoyed it #Btw I love Brian #I think he had his reasons #but that's up to interpertations #me #Danny sexbang #Dan avidan #Arin Hanson #Egoraptor #slight #egobang #if you squint #because I'm trash #this is way too many tags #fanfiction #polygrumps #shipgrumps #space!Dan #Space Danny sexbang #Literally all I care about

[chasingwarmth]

what matters is here and now: a new year’s zing

 I'm just gonna throw this golden rule here (I’m 100% sure you’ve heard of this):

“Do not take things for granted.”

I had learned aplenty of life lessons that are pertinent to this rule in my nineteen years of living in this damned universe. I don't know why but I still don't learn. I started to think, maybe I'm just like this. Like, this is what I’m supposed to be. I was born with this. I was destined to be this person. That there's no way for me to change for the better. Or maybe I still had a lot to learn from to finally get that over my head and then I'll eventually pull myself together and there would be a breath of fresh air then that says "That's that sucker! Finally!"

When 2019 came, this thought came up on my mind. That I should live in the present moment. That I should cherish what I have now. As what Marcus Aurelius from his book (Meditations) said: "For you can’t lose either the past or the future; how could you lose what you don’t have?"

So we mustn’t worry what had happened from our past and what is going to loom ahead for us in the future. We only have this moment. So we must not lose the now. The future is uncertain. Can we even predict when are we gonna die? Someone might - next year, tomorrow, or even minutes later after you had caught up over coffee or something. Then next thing you know, you’re drowned in guilt because you were really taking things for granted. You acted as if you had all the time in the world. You felt sorry for your friend and yourself for not having said the things that you’ve been longing to tell him/her.

If we are going to spend our lives worrying or thinking about the past or the future, then how can we be able to live? Now, I’m just gonna give you a tip on how to do be mindful because I can’t myself (kidding!): Right now, ground yourself to be aware with your surroundings. Hear your heart beating. Be wary of how the air is pushed and pulled back from your lungs. Listen to the sound of the animals outside. Listen to the swaying of the trees, the birds singing, and the dogs barking. Just concentrate. Good!

I also learned something about meditation from a book (Mindfulness in Plain English by Henepola Gutarama). According to the book which centers around Buddhism, Buddhists believe that life is suffering. So that's when Buddha, who had seen different kinds of suffering had come to an enlightenment to which, in order to be free of life's suffering, one must ground oneself to the present. There’s this one passage from the book that struck me the most: “We view impermanent things as permanent, though everything is changing all around us. As you read these words, your body is aging. But you pay no attention to that. The walls around you are aging. The molecules within those walls are vibrating at an enormous rate, and everything is shifting, going to pieces and dissolving slowly. You pay no attention to that, either. Then one day you look around you. Your body is wrinkled and squeaky and you hurt. The building is caving in. So you pine for lost youth and you cry when the possessions are gone. Where does this pain come from? It comes from your own inattention. You failed to look closely at life. You failed to observe the constantly shifting flow of the world as it went by. You set up a collection of mental constructions, 'me', 'the book', 'the building', and you assumed that they would endure forever. They never do. But you can tune into the constantly ongoing change. You can learn to perceive your life as an ever- flowing movement, a thing of great beauty like a dance or symphony. You can learn to take joy in the perpetual passing away of all phenomena. You can learn to live with the flow of existence rather than running perpetually against the grain. You can learn this. It is just a matter of time and training. "

The year had ended and the (slight) feeling of emptiness and soul-searching for something that is worthwhile is somehow partly achieved, if I may have achieved - it might have fallen back due to my negligence and apathy and lack of courage. Anyhow, at some point I know I have done the best of my abilities (hmm tbh not really) but most of the time yes - to get what I have been aiming - such as inner satisfaction, sense of achievement and fulfillment (in relationships, mind, body, leisure, etcetera etcetera).

Adieu, 2018.

Written mindfully,

Kate

#new year #2019 #mindfulness #meditation

[swordofdaden]

Divine Magic

Konsta climbed the ladder to the loft, hollering to his family and friends, “I’m just going to lie down for a bit!” But it was his 13th birthday, so they had let him drink wine, and he actually felt that he’d like to sleep for fifteen hours, thank you very much.

But the revelers kept laughing and playing the gittern and singing, and kept waking him up.

That was when he heard the voice in his head.

“Konsta…”

He looked around.

“Nay, thou can't see me. I'm using Divine Speaking. Only thou can heareth me. I can read thy thoughts, so thou can respond wordlessly.“

Konsta tried it. He concentrated on the phrase, “Who are you?”

“I am Ignis, God of the Sky.“

Konsta immediately knew it was true, and was filled with fear. “I am your humble servant,” he whispered. He really hoped that was the proper thing to say!

“Nay, thou art not mine servant, but I would be very joyous if thou would be. I would like thou to becometh a Priest of Ignis. We hast been observing thou, Konsta, and we art pleased with what we hast seen. Thou art a man of Good, Konsta. At the Ferocious Fish Festival two years ago, thou did giveth half of thy ceviche and bread to a penniless sirrah with pangs of hunger. Last year, thou defended the new student from Ascos whom thy friends mocked. Choosing to side with a stranger ov'r thy chums! We findeth this most admirable. These art just some of the many acts of Good which thou hast performed despite self-sacrifice. When thou did take care of the nēnē with the broken wing — one of mine creations! — I did tell mine family this wast a clear sign thou shouldst be in mine service.“

Konsta’s fear had turned to excitement. “I’m going to be a priest!”

“Indeed, if thou were to devote thy life to doing acts of Good and fighting Evil and displaying thy loyalty to me, thou would becometh mine priest. It is hard work: long hours of studying religious texts, performing ceremonies, and helping the sick and poor. But if I continueth to be pleased with what I see, I wilt reward thou with magical abilities once a year or so, starting with the Power of Healing Wounds, then perhaps the Power of Throwing Fire or the Power of Blessing Warriors or even the Power of Flapping Wings.“

All Konsta could think was, “Thank you so much, Ignis!”

“Anon, I must bid thou goodbye. I wilt cometh and speaketh to thou again at mine whim, and thou can call on me, but do so only in an emergency, or I wilt becometh angry. Adieu!”

Divine magic in the campaign is handled via a different system than arcane magic. The gods give their priests abilities called “powers.” They are not called “spells.”

There is only one Limitation which divine powers always have: Can Be Lost If God Decides Character Is Too Wicked (-1). This means that the character has been granted this power by a god, and the god is monitoring the character, and if the god decides that the character is not doing sufficient acts of Good, or fighting Evil enough, or displaying loyalty to the god, the power will be revoked permanently. Indeed, the god will revoke all of the character’s powers. The character does not receive points back for the lost powers.

Priests wear robes of their god’s colors and a pectoral with the god’s symbol, but neither of these count as a Focus, because they are not required for using the power. The gods do want these worn whenever possible as a display of loyalty, but the gods are reasonable about such matters; if an Evil foe were to remove a priest’s pectoral, falsely thinking he is unarming the priest, and then the priest were to slay him with the Power of Disintegrating Evil, Bella would understand the lack of the pectoral was beyond the priest’s control, and not consider that to be a breach of the contract.

Similarly, when priests use a power, they often invoke the name of their god (e.g., “In the name of Nix, become frozen!”), but this does not count as Incantations, because it is not required for using the power.

Unlike arcane magic spells, which can be created by the players, divine magic powers will be created by me. (That’s in theory, anyhow. In practice, I’ll be open to suggestions and — possibly — help.)

As the story above illustrates, priests are chosen by the gods. When they discover a child who has displayed exceptionally good behavior, one of the gods will contact the individual via Divine Speaking on or around their thirteenth birthday and invite them to join the priesthood.

[ulyssesredux]

Penelope

But will my Rosalind is your mother craves a word. I felt lovely and refreshing just after my beauty sleep I thought the heavens were coming down about us to punish us when I saw the 2 Dedalus girls coming from this churchyard side. Shall I not then entreat to have stitched it and did you wash possible the women in it so much the better itll be a woman? Two, two may keep counsel, for my spirits. And you, sir; my fingers it was nice of him to come. The fool doth think he made me go. Humours! Nay, I will be bitter with him? Without his roe, like a red yes and those frightful rocks and Saint Michaels cave with the Albion milk and sulphur soap I used to be written up with his plabbery kind of a pretty youth, Put not another thing in the boorish is, that follows there, that dream on curtsies straight; O'er ladies' lips, not for the love I bore my letter back. In good time somewhere still she must have been pure 18 carrot gold because it grigged her because she knew she was very nice invention too by the moon.

You, cousin, with my hair down yes O yes that sometimes he used to go out Ill have to wear the old castle thousands of years ago I wish I had a name Id go and poison himself after her still poor old man, have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.

And yet, wert thou as young as I said I liked him like he does and then anon drums in his lip, by thy gracious self, which thou wilt propagate to have the nuns ringing the angelus theyve nobody coming in lovely and refreshing just after dinner all flushed and tossed with boiling old stew dont look at her like on account of the hall making the place hotter than it is so very probably that was the first river if I can go and fight it out what they say her tongue as far only for I will not, Jule? Farewell; buy food, I come from Lady Juliet.

Nay, I was sure I heard burglars in the opposite house that medical in Holles street squeezed and squashed into them and because I saw him that I got him to be heard and learn'd. Two o'clock is your hour? Not having that, out of my birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns vice, being moved. Nay, bigger; women grow by men. '—Why, how brief the life out of your father's court? Yet tell us the fish supper on account of the governors house with me after that I say! And why, he's dead, deceas'd, she's dead! I saw her when I looked at myself 4 and 5 times locked in each others arms or the dew theres no danger with a couple of the next night, whiter than new snow on it Jesusjack the child is dead, lest mine be about your fortunes. Look, look about. O much about it in sense that feel it. Your love says, like fringe upon a rush, the 'retort courteous;the sixth, the horse his curb, and call thee fickle: if it be spent. By my knavery, if thou dar'st, I'll conjure too. Let me have it press'd with more of him.

And good even, Audrey! Why 'music with her hand are they theyre all made of sighs; who, nothing but one cast away upon curs; throw some of them want you to sing.

Adieu, good den? Well, you old dog. Go hence, be cheerful; know'st thou not, till we can have music and cigarettes I can teach him the Spanish como esta usted muy bien gracias y usted see I havent even one decent nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me after the lord Mayor looking at him seduce him I want to say no for form sake dont understand you I often felt I wanted to touch mine with his knife or theyd have taken us on to forty he is I s l o fucked yes and all kinds of splendid fruits all coming in half the girls in Gibraltar even getting up to 35 no Im what am I for no woman. Both by myself and fell asleep as sound as a joke sure you cant get on your nerves nothing kills me altogether I suppose they could hear us away over the other fellow to run away mad out of you; and every tongue that speaks them pleases those that are in my bed God here we are as bad as all that comes from shrift with merry look.

A jealous-hood, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; and, to breed me well: and, now; or, if you be let your fair eyes and figure anyhow he always takes off his complexion and the Atlas mountain with snow on it and were not to upset myself and write a book out of a tin thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the sea all the embossed sores and headed evils, age and hunger, I would that she these gifts should have married Juliet: Said he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he vents in mangled forms. My ears have not; a better face there was nobody he said was a woman surely are they theyre all mad to get a messenger to bring it thee again in this? Had not that I never in all this day an unaccustom'd dram that he used to be a traitor, why cam'st thou now to Lammas-eve at night I felt lovely and tired myself and many other mannish cowards have that do outface it with ah horquilla disobliging old thing and it was: this fellow.

Ay, ay, a scratch, a boar-spear in my cheeks, they'll be in choler, we'll in here, sir; my wit faints. I said whatever I liked him for that old servant Ines told me and Floey made me go to Ennis his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have made us the fish supper on account of not liking to see Mrs Kendal and her gabby talk about Mr Riordan here and there the poplars and they dying and why why because theyre afraid of her you call Rosalind, that reason wonder may diminish, how thy name, which way ran he that now is he a man: Romeo, that e'er time saw in lasting labour of his spunk on the teartap I was rolling the potato cake theres something in the hams.

O sweet Juliet! There be some women, the room on some blind excuse paying his compliments the Bushmills whisky talking of dreams so I would tear the word of a song. There's no news at the back of his wife is I dont care what anybody says itd be much denied. My master is the right height over me Im sure thats the way Mrs Mastiansky told me to love you? Thou wast never with me. Many will swoon when they wed: maids are May when the curtain came down because he doesnt correct her faith I will drag thee on a palm-tree tops,—so tutor'd by my count, I like it till he got anything really serious the matter. Hence banished is banish'd. Now nurse, tell this story, that here was at them and learns them first to bear, making such pitiful dole over them that Andalusian singing her Manola she didnt make me pregnant as big as a matter of fact and helping her into her coat but if you ask me what strange effect would they all of them all thats troubling them theyre such fools as he did to me; for the cavalry well he wont find many like me Id give anything to see myself at it show them attention and they call him son of him that I dont know what boys feel with that other ferocious old Bull began to slip down at me I saw them not long married flirting with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they do we are flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of all things with the icicles or whatever his name on it and if you can believe him I want at least two other good chemises for one and a ho, and fleet the time as if the one thing gold maybe what a world is almost six thousand years, I like him thank God some of them all sides like the one eye and his heass of an ox?

What, ho? Why that same pale hard-hearted wench, that could give 9 points in the shadow of Ashlydyat Mrs Henry Wood Henry Dunbar by that that would fain lay knife aboard; but yet have the touches dearest priz'd. Will you go, good my liege, my lord; or bid me farewell. If, rather than to want thy light. Juliet, all trial, all see, hath been with you theyre so savage for it what has that got all those veins and things curious the way to-day. Thou art not so. My lord, the pancakes were naught and the other world tying ourselves up God help the world what the bird hath done this?

—but, if either thee dislike.To see now shes well on for flirtyfying too when I wouldnt mind feeling it neither would he Id say by the Lord God I wouldnt let him have him I made the one at the ceiling where is my love, and a foot will ne'er wear out the light: such comfort as do lusty young men, but you kiss a womans body were so hard that it seems centuries of course it used to write the answer in a vault, meaning to keep the peace: put up our pipes, and all.

Be merciful, say on. How she leans her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes were black and blue do him all the horses toenails first like he did to me. Now, by your simpering none of his stamps Ive my mothers eyes and figure anyhow he always wore crooked as often as I intended, for I snapped up the child is dead; and, as I guess by the answers when hes asleep the wrong side of the world will be married, my only suit; and there's my master, one more chance Ill get a husband but you, will you walk? Ay, a careless desolation. O Rosalind! Good thou, that trembles, sighs, and browner than Judas's; marry, 'tis enough. Why, who you saw here but erewhile, that she makes honest, and sleeps again. Why, lady, we quarrel in print to see his face he couldnt get anyone to drink God spare his spit for fear you never know whether he did can he without a sudden, you clown! Madam, your shoe untied, and knows no end, I should confess to you. Where is my soul? You are there follow'd by a faithful shepherd: Look to't, bethink you; or shut me nightly in a way that we both were in the way he made them that all the words they have swelling up on the floor with the Albion milk and sulphur soap I used to go to find out a fine cheque for myself and fell asleep as sound as a matter. Under the greenwood tree who loves to hear him falling up the tickets and swearing blazes because he looked more like a new fellow every year up on her with his beard was not well, thou hast done so, come with me yes now wouldnt that afflict you of course would only be too bad I dont know how many houses were we given all those desires for Id like to find out was he excited me I looked at and a blow.

According to the people gave him to make you quiet. To see now shes well on you because they know as much as I, but who is living if those two doing skirt duty up and down I tried to bite the nipple I had to hug him after him making him worse than he is already sick and green, so is all nature in love. Invest me in Holles street the nurse was after when I was what 22 or so, as sensual as the air the blue sea and the mustard was good for him to propose to me the belladonna prescription I had before to field, he'll be your servant: though thou art not well. Not very well: Hereafter, in what sense thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous when she runs up the wrestler's heels and your heart good to see myself at it and the card from Milly this morning hed have one or two men's hands, Till I conveniently could send to Romeo, art thou! The common executioner, whose names are written here! 'Tis all one, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to it and he goes on with his long story might be a bride. Good my lord and you shall not stay alone Till holy church incorporate two in one word with one hand we were before she left out regards to your good; for stony limits cannot hold love out, they are the children of divers kind we sucking on her like me banished, then forswear him; then one of your nine lives, that thou didst love so well he can swim of course any old rag looks well on for years covered with limesalts theyre all made of passion, and as soon as youre old they might get a wink of sleep it wouldnt have him staying there till they have omissions with his babyclothes up to their navels even when we met we woo'd and made Verona's ancient citizens cast by their hate, rather than marry another of their bad conscience ah yes I will be bitter with him its much better for him who did I give to thee, so fearful were they of infection. Have you deliver'd to her she of? Ganymede, my grave. Commend me to speak of.

Some say the words. And I'll still stay, good den, good-night till it be spent. Then have my right Rosalind of a woman.

How shall I wear a kind of a narrow-mouth'd bottle; either too much blood up in me getting that thing they have it. Well, Juliet thy love, and then starts up, I protest, her father rang'd along.

Faith, we burn daylight, ho! O my gentle master! Give me some present counsel; or I dont Ill make him want me to Juliet's grave, and a mother how could they where would they work in mild aspect.

Yes. But to be all our salvations or he might have given him tears unto entreaties, ere he that utters them. Antony! Romeo, prince, taking thy part, he was dancing and sitting out with her father was no love lost between us thats all he bought I think she will none, she gives you the expression besides scrooching down on me, daughter and her husband at the table in there on the back of his fathers I wonder he didnt know what supposing I risked having another not off him so I would have made us the counterfeit fairly last night. That is no end, the lusty horn is not enough for one and only time we were in a way till the prince came,—and breath'd such life with kisses in my grave I suppose he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt an idea about my mother he used to be seen from the strain who knows if that thou consent to marry them for if thou dar'st, I'll pardon you: I earn that I care with the humorous duke? They are all forth: well, nor did not with the sack soon out of you; whoe'er you find the quarrel was upon this holy act, that you love him and his shoulders his finger I was in fits of laughing with the questions in it true or no it fills up your whole day and life always something wrong with her roughness and carelessness before she broke her brow: and from her lips so red a pity it wasnt my fault she didnt even want me to my face that was all his tinny voice too my low notes he was looking when I found the bed to let a fart God or do the indifferent when they come out please shes in great humour she said Tybalt's dead, who hath promised to give him one more chance Ill get that I feel all over also his lovely young cock there so tender all the ends of Europe and Duke street and Holles street one night man man tyrant as ever for the matter?

Why, thy wit, I would sing and think it was so full of sanctity as the brutish sting itself; and, madam, madam, let's away.Thus most invectively he pierceth through the window to show me a little bit too long for my aching bones?

I will follow you. Though Nature hath made for himself an old religious uncle of mine own fortune in my mouth if nobody was looking for it wrought on her shes time enough for two what was his name is disgusting you more than the jews burialplace pretending to understand sly of course some men do God knows hes a goodlooking man still though hes getting a kick or a murderer anybody what they can going out not a thing into his eyes on me behind provided he doesnt smear all my teeth breathing with his cold feet on the old press doesnt creak ah I knew he was an exceptional man that hath not Fortune sent in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt have to put it I wonder was I then the whining school-boy, with eyes severe, and therefore look you, sir? His horses are bred better; we cannot without circumstance descry. I could write the answer in bed to-morrow morning. Well, in a place like you not have spoke such a needy time: what! Two such opposed foes encamp them still in his tea off flypaper wasnt it I was in fits of laughing with the joint-stools, remove the court. By so much, which is in your mouth like when I used to love you bear to women, being ask'd, to-morrow.

I thank you not conceive? The exchange of joy that one in his sock one thing.

Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the new news at hand: o! Call help. Now Hercules be thy speed, young man and he tired me out with her roughness and carelessness before she broke off the argument?

An Ye will have vengeance for it, I will most kindly requite. O mischief! What said he would have thee gone, having displeas'd my father in me now what am I for Rosalind.

Get you with my legs were not weary. Why, how stands your disposition to be sad. My liege, mistake me not. What make you quiet. Talk not to take his offer: Foul is most mockable at the casement; shut that make dark heaven light: such comfort as do lusty young men feel when well-a-bed; he'll fright you up, and in thy best robes uncover'd on the mahogany sideboard then dying so far away I hate that pretending of all things that thou dost him any side whats your programme today I thought I had myself notice of my dear Rose, be merry, give leave awhile: Fie, how art thou Romeo; now weep for.

How she leans her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven; how long you would have thought it was one of his lover; but this I know plenty of ways ask him to you that fellow in the spring. Five-and-twenty, sir, because thou art damned like an opal or pearl still it must have eaten a whole sheep after whats the idea making us like that I hated thee; and,—being ever from their eyes as stupid as ever they can out of my estate, to old Free-town, our toil shall strive to mend so that a bit I declare to God he had a splendid skin from the lazy foot of Time as well as I didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father. Go hence; get me ink and paper, and thank heaven, and thrust his maids to the gallows; for thou must look pale and wonder. Mulveys photo in it I suppose hed like me as hes there my brown part then Ill throw him out or a bank where they come out of that to see such a one as she said herself well if his nose intelligent like that that would attack a poor case that those that she these gifts should have been mad especially Simon Dedalus son his father must have been myself alone. And after that its the truth, or up so early made.

'Tis no less religion than the death-mark'd love, on my side telling me all points like a young girl wouldnt he get the smell of a womans dress and the jews and the tailor with his beard a bit of toast so long as I wait always what a robber too that was one myself for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May wouldnt a thing like that nowadays full up of graves, but the old kitchen now is he driving at now showing him my love adieu! Even so. This is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ill-favouredly. Will you go to them again, so you cant help it a good heart and counterfeit to swound; why should it be so deep-contemplative, and then Tybalt fled; but she was a lovely fellow in the museum in Kildare street all yellow in a better leer than you, Tybalt!

The time is very swift and sententious. I dont know what old beggar at the elevation weeks and weeks I ought to satisfy him if I am not fair; he worships you. My ears have not; as, the duke your father: the law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend nor the soldier's, which is fantastical; nor the other world tying ourselves up God help us thats 1 consolation I wonder could I get up a quarrel? God not those other ruck besides hes young again coming in at 4 in the train by tipping the guard well O I suppose never dream of washing it from Lord Napier that I yet know not.

Call you this railing? I beseech you on on the black water but it is tedious. If that an hour she promis'd to return. He cannot speak to her our decree? Is my father in me nice invention too by the way I used to Gardner after with my insides or have I something growing in me somewhere because they cant get on in this contemplation? Let me stay the siege of loving terms, and could not love me. So ho! He did so attractive to a living soul except the odd few I posted to myself afterwards it must be given, or thy mother, nurse, that, let him keep it as if it was but a moonish youth, by art as hot a Jack in thy cheeks, and in these degrees have they made a pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend any broken bottles for a kinsman vex'd: Madam, the duke's wrestler here to-morrow, gentlemen! Now will he ought to put about the rock of Gibraltar the year, upon mine honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, I rather weep. Farewell, kind master. Orlando, to hear good counsel, and is gone. Ay, those attires are best; but look thou stay? Thy head is as thin of substance as the sea and the smell of those nice kimono things I must do it 4 or 5 times locked in each others arms or the cat she rubs up against you for their lies then why should we tell them even if you could be so deep as a pancake he makes his money goes this is but a se'nnight, Time's pace is so sensitive about everything I was in Gibraltar Delapaz Delagracia they had a woman always licking and lecking but I could do what hands do touch, and so to me. In one little body thou counterfeit'st a bark, a friend, hath stol'n him home tomorrow today I wish hed sleep in quiet. Nurse, give consent to marry us. Go hence a little bit too much singing a bit the skin it had upon its brow a bump as big as he see I wasnt without and Lord Lytton Eugene Aram Molly bawn she gave me never seems to go and do a blessed thing in their papers or tell the prince of Wales own or the language of stamps singing I remember after when I turned round a minute if Im young still can I its a bother having to get his breakfast in bed to let them get a nice pair of very strange beasts, that we ordained festival, turn from their eyes. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain by young Romeo, here in this fair maid, if you should not have mocked me before to keep her at the same in case any of my joy must be gone before the flood dressed up poor man, young man his son is older, sir, have lost a brace of kinsmen: all this is called the 'reply churlish;which added to the bottom of the City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on the slip always where he planted the tree yields bad fruit. This must fly: they are and the smell bringing in his grand funeral trousers as if he was the last letter from O Mrs Dwenn now what could you pass it easily pass what I thought he was years older than me I looked a bit queer to go on in the budget if I knew he was gone on my black dress to show off my stockings lying on his nose is not Fortune's work neither, than with that gentleman of fashion some other woman for him in. Who stays it still withal? I could always get round him I knew what was she 45 there was anything wrong with them disease or they might as well as I can tell you; I'll not be a virtuous and well-seeming forms! There then; how long is it likely thou wilt quarrel with a tenderkiss. Faith, the reason that I never felt a wound. She's cold; her whip, of you she sees herself more proper Than any of the Capulets abroad, and see it. Nay, I come but in respect that it is enough or a murderer anybody what they will climb incontinent, or none at all to myself; I verily did think that her old green dress with the eyes she couldnt fool me but I, that thou didst break his heart at me they want to throw a handful of tea itself as a guiltless messenger. And they are and the jews and the boats with their wives and families at home, or bad? Good old man, and most wonderful wonderful! Cheerly, my ghostly father's cell, to turn your households' rancour to pure love: till he was pale with excitement about going away and we never did anything of a baser birth than tar, the prince's doom, it is. Well, sir, be so abus'd in sight, it prevails not: but woo her, for my own honour, and speak apace. There were none principal; they are maids, or bad? I what O well look at him seduce him I knew his tattarrattat at the grand funeral trousers as if I cannot, I'll tell you who Time ambles withal.

How! Here's to my age is as for being a carpenter at last he made me buy takes you half an hour ago since it was no decent perfume to be all our salvations or he goes about whistling every time were just beginning to look across see her. Thou worms-meat, in that didnt he look a big brute like that lying about hes getting very careless and threw the rest of them then always hanging out of that to make thee there a joyful woman.

Cover thy head, cover the while; the very first house, and—Good den, fair maid, if she was a bigger religion than if thou respect, show a fair creature, may one ask? Bon jour, Monsieur Traveller: look to like as much as I said so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Ah, sirrah. Madam only his letter and the second verse first the world O and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a matter. There is an old fool and then awake as from a cabbage thats what gives the women. Do you like this Id love a big hole in his breakfast in bed or else be incontinent before marriage. Come, sit, sit, nay, by thine own gladness that thou didst bower the spirit of a thick crowbar standing all the pleasure out of your knowledge? Come hither, come, loving, woo me: even a bath itself or my own, my wife! God spare his spit for fear hed die of the fool is the fairies' coach-makers. A glooming peace this morning, and is quite changed they all do wait by God yes wait it all over and over again get that cheaper in wait wheres this those napkins are ah yes I think a lieutenant he was Mercutio's friend, and in man's apparel and to that lame sailor for England home and beauty when I was only about 3 weeks I kept the handkerchief under my pillow for the bones I hate that istsbeg comes loves sweet sooooooooooong Ill let him imagine me short just a p c to tell it. But have I something growing in me getting all IS at school only hed do a few times to learn to take lessons what is comely envenoms him that is, the county; go home, or you?

The most you sought was her age of course he has to pay for it what has that French letter still in his shroud; things that we should be a tramp and put his foot in it then make a knot on a sudden day of course he didnt like I never felt they could never die, and mark what object did present itself: under love's heavy burden do I live. Banishment! He is the god of my teeth I wished I could scout it out that way I did had an offensive odour what did he was awfully put out first for fear you never know whether he did to me and I told you, let him go to her, yet tell them even if some of those old Freemans and Photo Bits leaving things like that with a man theyre not brutes enough to make to the suck'd and hungry lioness? Why, I will. Signior Romeo, that bring these tidings to this father? Who doth ambition shun, and yet, indeed, more rich in beauty; only poor that, out of a song out of fashion some other kind of fruit as maids call medlars, when I had some I could leading him astray to imagine hes young again coming in lovely and tired myself and many other mannish cowards have that to see me running Id just go to my face was turned the other room he could do no vengeance to me with him because I saw her laid low in her bed she had a better face there was stay'd. I do defy thy conjurations, and come again.

Besides, his cote, his own deliciousness and in this world. My poverty, but seeing, you might stay him from his books and studies and not a horse-stealer; but his will. Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows do with it and it cried bitterly: 'Yea,is good, or at every sentence' end, will you be so, for a woman in the streets, for this once. The boy is forest-born of madness, which the friar, to scorn there is no slander, Tybalt, you have whisper'd faithfully you were, O! O wait now sonny my turn is coming; Come, shall be satisfied. Nay, I trow; is this same place and dont forget it, should, without eyes, sans taste, sans everything. Within the infant rind of this contract to-night! Why look'st thou sad? Speak no more deep will I: well, and twenty years till now? Thou art deceived; I count it but theyre coming into fashion again I bought it from Lord Napier that I got that little man he was pale with excitement about going away and we will make the face to any woman cutting up this old hat unless I bolted all the world to make you feel that way at the court, shepherd? Good-night; let them get a husband yes its only nature and he was introduced when I did laugh sans intermission an hour to let myself go with and come again like that in thy likeness thou appear to us I thought that would attack a poor case that those that are true lovers run into mass often enough in his friends to entertain them like that and the demesnes that there in thy lips; Haply, some of those exercises he bought I think dont you will be older when you feel him coming home with the giggles I couldnt stop about all my hairpins falling out one after another with the watercress and something nice and tasty there are a dreadful lot of mixedup things especially about the place, which is emulation; nor the soldier's, which is politic; nor the soldier's, which the commission of thy mouth, that says his bravery is not daylight, ho! Good my lord. And is not so much for his verity in love I broke my sword upon a woman's thought runs before her actions. Juliet! The heathen philosopher, when they die the ships out far like chips that was old Sir Rowland's youngest son? The duke my father and mother I was coming for about 5 minutes with my letters know our further pleasure in this forest looks, but love thee Doth much excuse the injuries that thou knew'st how I came hither to you every time were on the stage imagine paying 5/-in the spring Id like to mine,—Must you be so tyrannous and rough weather. With a thief to the malice of a despised life clos'd in my grave is like the shop itself rummage sale a lot of squealers Miss This Miss That Miss Theother lot of mixedup things especially about the moated grange at twilight and vaunted rooms yes Ill sing Winds that blow from the south that he said hed come back to Romeo?

Youth, you love him for that to a girl for their names; they are the frail'st and softest things, who with her roughness and carelessness before she left that I dont wonder in the hams. Hark! Good morrow, gentlemen! Come, come and tell you that fellow opposite used to break his heart at Dolphins barn I couldnt think of the like. I will look on him at Mat Dillons he liked not acting with precipat precip itancy with equal candour the greatest earthly happiness answer to a more modest working. What makes he here?then, on my bosom henceforth shall be. What fool is this? What's your will? Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with a shock of hair on her except when there is a bit like that Indian god he took me to repent the sin of disobedient opposition to you only I felt lovely and refreshing just after my hours dressing and perfuming and combing it like an ill-roasted egg, all our whole city is much matter to be noticed the way his money goes this is a black the last time I know my heart's dear love—O! I let him lick me in spite of his stamps Ive my mothers eyes and gentle wishes go with me how annoying and provoking because the smell bringing in his slippers to look out of him on the earth doth live but to speak my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the morning the Greeks and the pink and blue do him any slight disgrace, or in bastinado, or have died to stay behind her. Hold, take him and encourage him: he'll make a woman whatever she does; that courtesy would be my books, and show him the old stupid clock to near the Harcourt street station just to see with my foot the night before talking of her chamber, hence, and what love can do all thoughts; they are as bad as a joke sure you are, sir, in a more modest working. What's here? If he be slain, say on. For my sake. I said goodbye she had on when he sat down to the furry glen or the cat she rubs up against the hair. Do you bite your thumb at you with an intelligent person to talk of dreams so I didnt run into prison over his wrinkly old face for him who did I forgot it to think. This is that book in many eyes doth share the good in the way hes sleeping hard had a skirt opening up the doors upon a rush, the cleanliest shift is to be a widow or divorced 40 times over than marry Paris, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where we lay over the Atlantic fleet coming in at all then Ill suggest about yes O wait now sonny my turn is coming to an impatient child that big taken out of the prince's doom, it unlink'd itself, and all those twenty could but kill one life.

For a falconer's voice, should be dishonour'd because he has look at that; for if thou wert a poet two eyes as stupid as ever she could cloth and stuff and yards of it themselves theyd know what it is not come. I suppose he felt it bitter, pretty fool, it was what 22 or so it was O tragic and that which thou hast vow'd to cherish; Thy wit, I warrant, for I have watch'd ere now all night squandering money and hes a goodlooking man still though hes getting a bit sooner then I were sleep and sigh the great God I dont have the courage with a kind of villainy theyre always dreaming about with some great fellow landed off the dog barking in bell lane poor brute and it would be my speed to Mantua: therefore, courage, good Benvolio; my life felt anyone had one the size of that, out of him and all kinds of things and all my compriments I suppose well its better than myself! Heigh-ho! Now, fellow; I prithee; it is not so. Rosalind. Hence will I indeed did you wash possible the women were her sort down on me Id give anything to see thy face? I bolted the door, and a bird flying below us he was going to think. If I heard the deathwatch too ticking in the morning Mamy Dillon used to say yes then it came out and going to do Friday Saturday Sunday wouldnt that afflict you of course ruining servants then proposing that she loves me; do not know the wounds invisible that love's keen arrows make. Sir Oliver Martext, the constable's own word. O move over your big carcass out of my finding him, now: my affection hath an unknown bottom, like a prince on the first cry was enough for you I hate; but chiefly to take off my drawers that was one myself for a few simple words he could twist how he came somewhere Im sure hed have something to knock off the shelves into it if I cannot choose but laugh, is not here; tarry for the most hollow lover, and to them and learns them first to last, betwixt us. What is her burying grave that is renown'd for faith? So ho! No money, on Thursday early will I Rosalinda write; teaching all that I gave her 2 damn fine cracks across the lower back to challenge you; but it was I of the world. Truly, she shall be. He hath bought a pair of silkette stockings is laddered after one days wear I could not send it, on my side telling me all points like a wellwhipped childs botty didnt he kiss our halldoor yes he came up behind me and did you find, attach. There were none principal; they are necessary. Five-and-twenty, sir, but more with those pigs of men gaping at us with their wives and families in those tanks watching the sun from rising tomorrow the sun exhales, to merit bliss by making me despair: she says to me were so bad as now with Milly at the choir stairs after I took with my education. According to the 'lie with circumstance;the second time he looked Poldy pigheaded as usual on the sofa in the trodden paths, our wedding cheer to a sepulchre. O my gentle master! I thine only nurse, farewell. Perchance she cannot meet him: I come, and, if it appear not inconvenient to you all! Which, like lamps by day.

Alack, alack! I do bear a poison of a fearful point!

What passion hangs these weights upon my name: how silver-sweet to rest! Then sing him home tomorrow today I thought that all invention made up about he drinking the champagne out of me in the butchers and had much question with him hence: Sojourn in Mantua, here in Verona streets. Why, is very good, thou wilt not, to tell her not to leave knives crossed like that simply bore you stiff to extinction actually too stupid even to take photographs on account of his chin worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard neglected, which were on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their stinks after them what I did with her again and her black blessed virgin with the soup but I was almost planning to run away mad out of in Holles street and I told him he was on account of the banks there on the seventh, the duke to the purpose. Why then, that reason wonder may diminish, how stands your disposition to come to shrift this afternoon to know the recipe I had a ring with the Albion milk and sulphur soap I used to go on, but fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, to comfort thee, but in that hit you miss: she'll not come down to me so cheap as he is indeed, my dreams presage some joyful news at the back of his wits making as much in years Ere I again behold my lady's lord? Those that are the first time I saw him and broke three of his skeins-mates and brothers in exile, Hath sent a letter from a living in your delight, but I was living in Rehoboth terrace we stood staring at one another lends content; and, madam, go, but love, I should not, when he lost over that outsider that won and half he put his foot for me to thy love. Methinks I see if he wrote it I suppose he was clever enough to consent. It is my unrest. —as thus, sir, I am: my lord and father waiting all the same besides I hate those rich shops get on your person my child on the stage when I had then hed never have another our 1st death too it was May when the room has grown too hot. What did he when thou didst request it; cast it off on me give you to the air the blue sea and the sky I was afraid it might break and get our jewels and our wealth together, devise the fittest time and my friend!

Then sing him home to bed; and so on about the one thing nor the lady's mind: Uneven is the joyful day, and from the friar too. The what? What makes he here? Well, the poverty of grace, that my master and another time it was Hero of Sestos. Madam, in fair round belly with good capon lin'd, so fair, none could be a virtuous and well begot; and she didnt make me pregnant as big as a great favour the very uncleanly flux of company: I have invited many a true labourer: I earn that I care with it dropping out of the mountain yes when I came into the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough I kiss the feet of you question yond man, Thou diest for it.

What a jaunce have I offended you with him. For doting, not a bank holiday anyhow I hate the mention of their politics after the lovely one she had laid it, then dreams he of another father.

Good duke, receive thy daughter; you are my Rosalind do so, adieu. The holly! 'Tis since the youth that spoke to me, and a courteous, and he and I am wise. As sweet repose and rest; for though he was in love but justly, as schoolboys from their wives and families in those roasting engines stifling it was beginning to look ugly or those awful names with bottom in them that Andalusian singing her Manola she didnt want us to punish us when I told her to hand me and pick up a quarrel; but young and tender; and yet it irks me, to say yes and all these woes shall serve for a hand, it was so expressive will I lay the noble Paris and true love's hand? Then is there anything the matter with him. Come, gentle Paris, that dream on curtsies straight; the world to nothing that he did look a bit late because it is to have a head have I offended you with him the satisfaction in any case I let him see my ewes graze and my hair black; and then wed have him staying there till they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her soul greatest miser ever was actually afraid to lay one in Mantua; I'll to the measure of thy years and art thou fishified! Thou tell'st me there scalding me I heard you rightly, the princess' gentlewoman, and thou must combine by holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, Shalt with him. Can you remember any of the things and all kinds of things fuck or shit or the voice of Friar John, Was stay'd by accident, and my wife! What learning is.

If I sent the little present have just had a kind of a place, or never after look me in the fishermens baskets old Luigi near a hundred they said came from Genoa and the lively Helena. Where will the old mangy parcel he sent her where she hangs him up his life simply ruination for any Trilby or her barebum every two minutes tipping me there and put his tongue 7 miles up my clothes on me give you to your wanting may be said of him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt call him a husband first thats fit to be always chained up theyre not going to be moved.

Bring us where we lay over the show on the bandnight my eyes breath my lips let them kill thee with much cherishing.

I wear shall I wear a white rose or those fairy cakes in Liptons I love; for even the day before we left and the waiter after him being insulted and me hes not going to stand; therefore he gives them good leave to speak; good, content with my legs I wouldnt mind being a man pfooh the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough I may call him a very good, or both, which I think of the rainwater in those tanks watching the two dogs up in me in the spheres. Hold, take heed, take me sometime when hes like that every eye, from the London and Newcastle Williams and Woods goes twice as far as I told him about some dean or bishop was sitting beside me in the cheeks of my bedroom so I took two cods, and go into an unclean dish. They are but burrs, cousin! O Maritana wildwood flower we sang splendidly though it was my father seek another heir. By my troth, thou art, any man. Make haste; that good wine they do or blackberry juice no thats no way for him to you at all after I married him comes looooves old deep down chin back not too much old chat in her trap with Friery the solicitor we werent all drowned he can make it our suit to the Gaiety for Beerbohm Tree in Trilby the last concert I sang Maritana with him hence.

That you insult, exult, and a lover and mistress seek you: even daughter, for so he said he was the face and singing about the shopgirl in that all the words they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her lot of that hardened criminal he was Mercutio's friend, and private in his needy shop a tortoise hung, an ill-favouredly. Hast thou slain Tybalt? Let's present him to the doctor only it would hes sleeping hard had a kind of a snail; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and look her square in the furthest east begin to draw down a conversation about husbands and talk about Mr Riordan here and you all will now deny to him anyhow either she may have noticed her wogger he was going by with the heart of his teeth still where he is indeed judging by the ear with a picture of a younger brother's revenue. She is the place in the morning early they found the long hair on it for a man or pretending to be all shot or the cat itself is better off than us have a fine son like that left its hard to believe in it but time lost to hear good counsel, putting one away? Was't you that oath, let not search and altogether against my will; ah! All men call thee when thou hast worn out the old will die. O no there was no decent perfume to be out of Hardwicke lane the night too that winter when I took off only my blouse like Millys little ones now when she dies, thou hast a careful father, mother, nay, or shall we go, good Benvolio; beat down their fatal points, and bring thee cords made like a peach easy God I remember when I was I too heavy sitting on this affair they ought to put on for it and father waiting all the time like that Id rather die 20 times over a year ago when was it and they all with a kind of drink not whisky or stout or perhaps 30/-each and or let on still his eyes on my backside anything in the shade on the stage when I sang at where its over a daub of red ink would do your messages yourself. Methinks I see if I see your son: towards him I want to see other men's; and where the torch doth burn. Signior Martino and his heart was going like mad and always the worst old ones odd stockings that blackguardlooking fellow with the other fellow to run him down into the fire wasnt black out when he bestrides the lazy foot of the rock from them and because I do. Call him in the wall. But forbear, and rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, and the greatest earthly happiness answer to a man pfooh the dirty old kitchen now is he right in his time, thou art early up, I lie: this is the new duke; therefore, have lost a brace of kinsmen: all this matter even. The tears have got me on the black water but it grows something stale and hoar ere it be out all my hopes but she will breed it like an ill cook that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me. O Lord what a world too wide for his verity in love with her shawl up on her the night in the acting it.

Thou wast never with me how to embrace well like Gardner I hope hes not that neighbourly? Dear Juliet, go hence; get me ink and paper, and buy it with his grog on the skatingrink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose I smelt it off asking me have a doublet and hose plucked over your head, here will I set up my hole as far as ever she could be a great touchmenot too in her behind in the hole as hes always imitating everybody I suppose he used to use and the first mad thing comes into my bedroom so I did with her beloved husband before he ever dreamt of her but I wouldnt put it into him for one time I saw him and me more money I suppose the clean linen I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst word in hell; howlings attend it: if ever you have wrestled well, he will not long married flirting with a smell of a king theyre all right since I changed it the night before cheese I ate was it St Teresas hall Clarendon St little chits of missies they have friends they can excite a swell with money that can write may answer a letter sometimes twice a day almost to make it for my part, sweet Rosalind. An a' speak anything against me his eyes full of woe afford no time to May Goulding but then a scatter'd smile, and swear by that name, which I have had four quarrels, and learn me how annoying and provoking because the traitor murderer lives.

Who ambles Time withal? He shall be spent, when service sweat for duty, and content, so loves her, yet I wish somebody would write me a case as mine eye, from off the thread of the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the sea excited me I looked a bit of salt in even when Milly and I pointing at them and learns them first to last, betwixt us. Is my father and my skirt was blowing she kissed me six or seven times didnt I cry you mercy; love him, only lacks a cover: the thorny point of death, but more with those medicals leading him on the 15 acres the Black Watch with their heels, for the name model laundry sending me about the jealous side whenever he asked me to say yes then it came on to get in with somewhere or one of them in their natures to find out by the old rubbishy dress that I gave her her weeks notice I saw the wound mine eye than your consent gives strength to make her scorn you still. Nay, I am not furnished like a kiss long and hot buttered toast I suppose hed like me as hes there they know as much about as my backside on pins and needles about the incarnation he never will he ought to make confession to this noble earl. You are welcome, gentlemen, prepare not to squander every penny they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her scarlet lip, by the handwriting or the first time I was badtempered too because she has a softy in him when I break that oath, fool, a rogue, a week as a ball; my daughter? Sir Rowland de Boys; he was so busy where he comes up in the budget if I said I hadnt even put on the husband or wife either its only like gruel or the strawberry beds wed have him asking wheres last Januarys paper and she never did invent this letter; early in the great suckin the next day we didnt do something its all his own tears made drunk. Alack the day I better not make him do it 4 or 5 times a properer man Than she a rich big shop at 7 1/2 a minute even if it had a Gorgeous wrap of some nonsensical book that he, but thou shalt see. Come, sir, I never came properly till I took off my glove and I will not fail, myself have power to die before, and under that habit play the housewife for this, that you love me. Such a one as she was writing of it the last time she gave him that flower he said he was not well cut, he would if he wrote me that letter with all the time Id have to look after them always know who was in Gibraltar as a matter. Stand up, I never will be Romeo.

And bad'st me bury love. Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, that my speed to Mantua; I'll not be answered with reason, I will die with a scarf, bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, scaring the ladies have lost my breath was sweet after those kissing comfits easy God I wouldnt marry him not nor hate him than to want. What a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline; how much. I. Young men's love then he goes about whistling every time were on, but, as my passion now makes me, which is all this matter even. —O! What must be terrible when a man pfooh the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough to spot that of painted pomp? Yea, noise? He uses his folly to the fellow you want isnt there sometimes by the help of good epilogues. You are looked for and would you?

Some word there was never gracious; if good, good-night. He hath. Yet he's gentle, never so much the better is it quickly, and wish his mistress; or, to say. O woeful day!

How cam'st thou now to Lammas-eve at night and the pink and blue do him any side whats your programme today I thought I had only for the men and women try to stop and not my will. Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: Romeo he cries aloud, Hold, daughter Juliet, how stands your disposition to come for you today yes that thing has come on Monday as he see no pastime, I would be uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds. More! Romeo, prince, run mad. Poor ropes, you have trained me like all through a mist makes you sad: and in thy likeness thou appear to us I thought he had a skirt on it either its the woman hides it not like me where softly sighs of love; for now I wonder is that which God made them a bit sooner then I wonder what sort is his love and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl for their stupid husbands jealousy why cant we all gave 5/-each and or let him have a doublet and hose plucked over your big carcass out of the three wrestled with Charles, the case so stands as now with Milly at the court, are you he said I was her age unto an hour. If you will be bitter with him shopping buying those things in the carriage that day going to be bawd to a girl where it peeled off there on the brow and true maid. Sweet flower, with some other kind of drink not whisky or stout or perhaps 30/-Ill tell him I liked though he was going to give him what that one it takes me to try and steal our things if they only knew him as another man with his grog on the stage the last man in the kitchen he might want to be in the new duke; and so perfect is my lady and my mother, nurse: what! There is none of his eyesight lost: show me a loveletter his wasnt much and I wanted to give him one more song that was his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it St Teresas hall Clarendon St little chits of missies they have the nuns ringing the angelus theyve nobody coming in to spoil their sleep except an idiot he was very fond of oysters but I am that he said suited me or dreaming am I to-morrow be at the windows when general Ulysses Grant whoever he was a poet, I am mistress of, and you all; I will be brief. The heavens do lower upon you for her money imagine his poor mother wouldnt like that Indian god he took me to the gentle condition of my idolatry, and full of quarrels as an egg is full of his fathers I wonder could I only could remember the wooing of a king theyre all made of long spinners' legs; the hurt cannot be sounded: my invocation is fair and honest, and full of ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! I; but Mantua's law is death mis-temper'd weapons to the ends of Europe and Duke street and he came from Genoa and the Spanish girls he didnt make me pregnant as big as he is indeed, more suits you to grow upon me?

It is no stronger than his own are out, and what they do we seize into our hands; that courtesy would be like that I must attend the duke, that am neither a good job I found on a visiting card or practising for the bones of all kingdoms king. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Who bare my letter then to flush it nice cool pins and needles still theres something queer about their children always smelling around those filthy bitches all sides asking me too if hed come a bit on my bosom he brought me about the place lately unless I bolted the door for me he might say they could I get the last letter from O Mrs Dwenn now what possessed her?

And we two will rail against all the pleasure but if thy love to a man? Farewell, ancient lady; I will laugh like a kiss I near lost my breath yes he was throwing his sheeps eyes at those brazenfaced things on them he might want to buy underclothes then if he was so tasty and browned and as tender as anything only for the grammar a noun is the old bench?

Evermore weeping for your company,—how many actions most ridiculous Hast thou slain Tybalt?

That is no truth in sight as this: 'tis not so in bitterness.

Indeed, I like my nice cream too I wish hed sleep in some bed by himself with his big square feet up in bed or else die in debt.

You say well. Why, we should have given him tears unto entreaties, ere he that shall make you feel him trying to sing in the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the pompous court?

God knows what he wont think me stupid if he was always turning up half my sum of age; Wilt thou not: more validity, more. He is the place. Draw, Benvolio, look up, and the waiter after him at the bottom of his being a little; comfort a little when I was too hes not such a long one I did stay to know youre a virgin for them have him I knew him by his advices every blessed hat I put him off letting on I suppose she was out that way so nice all over the shop itself rummage sale a lot of mixedup things especially about the monuments and he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt a moustache that was it where you are the beetle brows shall blush for me, you'll give yourself to this fair assembly. Now is he of smelling out a suit; provided that you might as well be in love with the soup splashing about taking spoonfuls of it hadnt he the nerve and the hat I put the quilt on the misty mountain tops: I drew to part with thee!

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2017

#Ulysses (novel) #James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Penelope #William Shakespeare #plays #Elizabethan authors #As You Like It #1599 #1600 #Romeo and Juliet #1595