#but like.. safe in the sense that he's not a 6 year old being offered vodka by strangers at a party. etc.

[capricornlevi]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #may tries to write #oh lord #im not even going to tell you how long i spent drafting this bad boy #please join me in the brainrot please

[ddejavvu]

hiii, hope you’re having a good day! Could you do a request with animagus reader and marauders just being out and r is in Sirius’ bag or smth and a dog spooks her and she ends up running away panicked and they just start to run after her. tysm!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11

--

"Let me make absolutely sure that I am understanding you boys correctly." The stern tone of Professor Mcgonagall's voice never fails to chill the blood of those who hear it, but James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin are quite accustomed to the chill by now.

"You tore through the school's vegetable garden," She begins, "Then you trampled the roses. Then you tracked mud from those trampled roses through the Great Hall, interrupting a session of O.W.L.s that non-participating students were given plenty of warning not to disturb."

"Professor-" James starts, but Minerva snaps her gaze sternly to him.

"I am not finished, Mr. Potter, and you will not speak until I am."

He has the good sense to nod instead of giving a verbal response.

"Then. You went on a mad goose chase around the castle, that included not only breaking into faculty-only spaces, destroying art hung on these walls longer ago than you've been alive, but jumping from moving staircase to moving staircase?"

"I didn't mean to smash through that painting," Sirius offers earnestly, but when she whirls towards him, he's almost worried she'll strike him.

He knows she won't; she's like the mother he's never had, not the one that he does have.

"Fine! Fine, since you seem so eager to speak, tell me now: Why? Why was any of this necessary? Why did the three of you suddenly lose all sense?"

Sirius is rather surprised she hasn't yet noticed the lump beneath his sweater, but he's more than happy to tug at the neckline of the knitwear, "I was running after my cat, professor."

You know you'll be the only one to save them now, and you try appearing as endearing as possible as you stick your head out from Sirius's sweater, your furry ears brushing at his chin as you mewl plaintively at Professor Mcgonagall.

She blinks.

It's all she can do, because the boys in front of her are a permanent headache, and she asks, voice dangerously calm, "Why was your cat running, Mister Black?"

"She had a run-in with a wild dog," Remus explains, because if Sirius was left up to the task, he'd probably use adjectives like 'misunderstood' and 'unwillingly aggressive'. "She was tucked into Sirius's bag while we took a walk over the grounds. She likes to get out, but Sirius keeps her in his bag to be sure she's safe. But the dog must have smelled her, and he came out of the forest to charge for her. She startled and ran, and I can't say I blame her, Professor. Sirius was just worried for her, that's all. We would have really liked to avoid the chase as well."

A tense silence falls, and four pairs of eyes watch as Minerva Mcgonagall pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers and sighs. She neglects to tell Remus that it doesn't matter whether he'd have liked to avoid the chase or not; there's a hundred fifteen-year-olds mourning the loss of their exam time.

When it's unclear what her position is on your morning escapade, you slip out of the bottom of Sirius's sweater, and pad over to sit at her feet. Sirius draws in a breath, keeps it locked tightly in his lungs as you meow up at her, and when you have her attention, your tail flicks idly behind you.

"I don't like dogs either," She laments in a voice far too exhausted for ten in the morning, "Mister Black, if you or your friends ever treat this castle like a jungle gym again, I will make you scrub out the cracks in the stone dungeon walls with a toothbrush."

He tries not to grin, because his luck is far too strained, but he nods eagerly, "Yes ma'am. Thank you, Professor."

"Do not thank me," She glares warningly at him, "I am still tempted to feed you to wild dogs."

The boys stand, nodding at their professor as they file out of her office, but when Sirius calls you with open arms, she peers over her nose at him.

"Leave the cat," She instructs, and at his curious head tilt, she adds, "I had to listen to Mr. Filch tell me all about your antics this morning. At the moment I deserve better company."

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one-shot #sirius black one shot #sirius black headcanon #sirius black headcanons #sirius black hc #sirius black hcs #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black dialogue #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader fanfiction

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Hii! Can I get a request with Hotchner daughter reader where she is like 5-6 years old, and she is "obsessed" with Reid and maybe Hotch a little jealous bc thats her baby and

Aaron Hotchner X Spencer Reid X Daughter Reader

Request: Hii! Can I get a request with Hotchner daughter reader  where she is like 5-6 years old, and she is "obsessed" with Reid and maybe Hotch a little jealous bc thats his baby

Third person pov...

It was always a busy day in the Hotchner household, with Aaron Hotchner balancing his job as a BAU Unit Chief and his duties as a single father to his daughter and son But despite his hectic schedule, he always made sure to spend quality time with his children.

At the moment, Aaron was helping his daughter get dressed as she would be going to work with him today, Jack had school, Aaron had dropped him of earlier.

The two were currently in the little girls room, Aaron kneeling on the floor going throug his daughter clothes before her voice made him turn towards her.

"Daddy, can I wear my princess dress today?" the 5-year-old asked with wide, hopeful eyes, Aaron couldn't resist her adorable request and smiled.

"Of course you can, princess. But let's make sure you wear some comfy shoes too.' He carefully picked out a pair of sparkly flats for her to wear.

Once the 5 year offer as dressed the two headed out the door and to the FBI headquarters.

The young gurl was bursting with excitement as she followed her dad, Aaron Hotchner, to the BAU headquarters. Being five years old, she didn't really understand what her dad did for work, but you knew it was important and cool.

'Morning, Uncle Spencer!' The girl exclaimed as she ran up to the tall, lanky man standing at his desk.

"Good morning, Y/N" Reid smiled down at the girl, He loved spending time with Y/N she was a bright light at the office and always had the most interesting questions.

"Can I help you with anything today?" She asked with wide eyes.

Reid chuckled, 'Of course, you can help me with everything!'

'Y/N, come on, we have to go to my office,' your dad called out.

'Okay, bye Uncle Spencer!' Y/N waved as she followed her dad.

As the H/C girl walked through the office, she noticed her dad's colleague, Derek Morgan, staring at her and her dad with a smirk.

'What's so funny, Morgan?' Hotch asked, noticing his expression.

'Nothing, Hotch. Just admiring how much Y/N looks like her dad,' Morgan teased, winking at the girl.

They all watched in amusement as she turned to the man with a pout, "But I want to look like Uncle Spencer!"

Hotch laughed and ruffled his daughters hair, 'Trust me, Y/N, you're much cuter than Uncle Spencer.'

They both entered the mans office and he sat the girl down in a chair while he went through some paperwork.

'Hey, Y/N, do you want to help me catch some bad guys?' The dad asked, his serious tone making the 5 year old sit up straighter in her chair.

'Really?' Y/N asked with excitement.

'Of course, you're my secret weapon,' the dad grinned before handing his daughter a pen and a clipboard.

While Hotch worked on the computer,

Y/N scribbled on the clipboard, feeling very important. Suddenly, Y/N heard her dad's phone ring and his face fell as he answered it.

'What's wrong, Daddy?' Y/N asked, sensing his sudden shift in mood.

'Nothing, Y/N. Just a case,' Her dad replied with a forced smile.

'Is it dangerous?' The 5 year old asked with concern.

'Probably not, don't worry,' the dad reassured her.

But she could see the worry in his eyes. She knew it was a lie. The little 5 yrar old knew her dad's job was dangerous and didn't like the idea of him getting hurt.

'Uncle Spencer will keep you safe,' She said, still holding onto the belief that Reid was her protector.

Hotches tired face softened at his daughters words and he gave a small smile, 'Yes, he will.'

Y/N apent the rest of the day helping her dad at the office, keeping her mind off the case. But as the team headed out, the little girl couldn't help but feel a little sad that her daddy had to leave.

Before the tewm headed out Spencer walked up to the young child, he looked at her sad face and thought if something to cheer her up.

'Hey, why don't we make a deal?' Reid suggested, giving thr girl a gentle smile and holding her hand.

'What kind of deal?' She girl asked, intrigued her sad expression vanishing.

'You keep an eye on me and make sure I stay safe, and I'll do the same for your dad,' Reid said with a smile.

Y/N odded eagerly, 'Deal!'

Reid grinned and picked the young child up, both laughing he began spinning around many times before placing you back on the ground.

Both dizzy but smiles on their faces.

'Come on, let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into,' Reid chuckled as he took the girls hand again, they both made their way out of the office.

Y/Ns dad watched the two with a mix of amusement and jealousy. He knew his daughter adored Reid and he couldn't blame her. Reid was a great friend and role model, and he was glad to have him in his children's life.

But as the two of them walked around the bullpen, he couldn't help but feel a little left out. He was Y/Ns dad, after all. But he knew that she were in good hands with her Uncle Spencer, and that was all that mattered.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, woo 2 in one night this is strange, decided to treat you guys to two of these oneshots I know you've missed them, I'm still working on getting through the rest of the requests but I will get through them thank you for your patience.

Sorry for this one being shorter than usual anyway sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count : 1016

#criminal minds #fanfic #behavioural analysis unit #x child reader #fluff and comfort #oneshot #light angst #x daughter!reader #father daughter fluff #aaron hotchner x child! reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid #fluff #fluff ending

[jakescaravel]

A Lovey Promise

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 4,718

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, being tipsy, friends to lovers, kissing, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dares, teasing, dom Jake, hickeys, praise, very very slight allusions to pain (only briefly), orgasm denial, 18+ MDNI!!!

Summary: Your best friend, dripping with a level of confidence that slightly annoys you, delivers an offer, a bet that you simply can't refuse...

6 empty shot glasses sit on the coffee table in front of you thanks to you and Jake’s ongoing tradition. That being shots and a movie, always picked at random (that part being very important), at least once a month although it usually ends up being more.

You lay on the couch curled into Jake’s side underneath a warm comforter. Your hand softly rests on his chest, feeling the gentle beat of his heart along with the subtle ruse and fall of his chest. His arm wraps around you, cocooning you in your shared world of peace, calming you in a way only capable by Jake. It’s so easy to feel safe with him like this. Sometimes when the two of you hang out, you forget that anyone else exists at all. Just the two of you in his small, old apartment.

The cuddling is entirely platonic of course. Not many people understand you and Jake’s friendship, but to the two of you, it makes perfect sense. Sure you guys cuddle and hang out constantly, and maybe you’ve shared a few makeout sessions after having one too many, but those were just “mistakes”. He’s your best friend. And nothing more.

You’re definitely feeling the alcohol and Jake must be as well due to his slightly slurred speech and uncensored Jake commentary.

“Whaddyou think ‘bout the movie Lovey?”

You can feel his head turn towards yours when he speaks, chin resting atop your head, although you can’t see his face. His use of your nickname warms your heart. Especially because of the way it floats off his adorably inebriated tongue. You had earned that nickname after buying a boyfriend of yours flowers years ago- an act Jake thought to be silly and just plain backwards. (“You’re such a hopeless romantic, you’re so lovey dovey, it's honestly sickening. What, does this guy not buy you flowers? Do I need to have a talk with him? Bet he doesn’t fuck you right either…)

The name stuck ever since, but of course you love it. 

“I don’t really know what's going on to be honest.”

“Yeah… itsnot very good.” He states matter of factly before a yawn passes his lips. “Oh look, they're kissing, finally some action!”

Huffing a laugh at his almost childlike revelation, you sit up a little taller and turn your head back toward the screen. The two characters, nameless due to your lack of attention, sit on a couch, hands chasing after each other. She moans into the kiss, parting her lips for him as he lays her down on the couch. Your thighs clench together on their own accord and you could have sworn it’s subtle, but Jake lets out a giggle.

You decide to ignore him completely with your eyes still glued to the screen. Jake’s remarks have stopped, telling you he’s watching just as intently as you, and all of a sudden you’re very aware of how close you are to him. His breathing, his hair ticking your face, his smell. He always smells so good, fresh and clean, but buried below a layer of sweat and musk. So Jake, so perfect. 

You wonder what he's thinking about. Maybe if he too notices the proximity of your bodies, or the way your breathing has slowly picked up.

The man’s hand drifts down as the girl let’s out another overly dramatic moan. Of course the screen doesn’t really show anything, but it sure leaves a lot to the imagination, letting your mind wander without hopes of stopping. 

Jake shifts on the couch, his hand falling from around your shoulder to land around your hip. He pulls you closer to him and speaks again, but this time the playful quality to his voice is gone, and all that’s left is a low grumble.

“Do you think she’s enjoying it?” His other hand comes to your chin, pulling your face to look at him.

“What?” You try to look away from his eyes, the heated stare overwhelming you in your current flustered state, but his grip tightens forcing you to stare straight into his piercing brown eyes.

“Do you think that girl is having fun?” His lips curl into an alluring smile when he sees your slightly panicked state, releasing his hand from your chin, but not before quickly letting his thumb dart over your cheek.

You force yourself to maintain the contact, his dark gaze pulling you deeper into your thoughts and he offers you a smile that too closely resembles a smirk. You curse the heat growing between your legs at just the sight of that stupid smug look you want so badly to wipe from his face. Taking a grounding breath, you answer as if he hasn’t affected you at all. 

“Yeah I mean she’s moaning like a pornstar so it can’t be that bad.” 

He turns back to the screen nodding slowly, his lips pursed. “Well this guy is clearly not experienced.” 

You look back to the screen, questioning it for yourself. You guess you haven't really been paying attention to the details. It’s funny how anything slightly erotic just shuts off the brain, causing it to act like a horny sex zombie.

“Yeah this guy has no idea what he’s doing.” He states again, an air of confidence in his tone that amuses you. 

“Oh really? And you’ve got it all figured out right?”

“Well yeah.” He quips back.

You can’t help the laugh that trills out. All guys think the same; they all think they’re the best in bed, and they all think they make their girl cum when really… they never have.

“What, you don’t believe me?” A stupid grin paints his face and he pokes your cheek, making them instantly flame.

“No Jake, I don’t think you could please a woman any better than this guy.” You point to the small screen again, rolling your eyes.

“Oh reallyyy.” He drags out the last syllable as he sits up to face you.

You turn to him, cutting your eyes at his sneering face. He reaches for the bottle of vodka on the coffee table, taking a swig straight from the bottle. You force your eyes away from his bobbing adam's apple as the liquid goes down. He doesn’t even wince.

“I could make a girl cum with just my fingers.”

You roll your eyes again, trying to ignore the warmness that has made its way to your cheeks. When you look back to Jake, you can tell that he’s made no joke, no silly remark. He’s being serious.

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“No.”

“I could prove it to you.”

You let out a slow shaky breath after realizing you had been holding it in. You extend your hand to reach for the bottle. Taking a generous swing of the burning liquid, you return your attention to the man in front of you.

“You could prove it to me?”

“I bet I could make you cum with just these.” He holds up his hand, wiggling his fingers in the air.

“Bullshit.”

“You really don’t believe me huh Lovey? You’ve never heard what they say about guitarists?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

His voice is low, dripping with sex and his tongue comes out licking a slow line along his bottom lip. He smirks when he notices you staring. And god, that little nickname, what used to seem so innocent now having a playful bite.

“I bet I could make you cum three times with just my fingers.” He holds them up again, reaching out to touch your face. You jump back and he laughs at you.

He stares at you, waiting for a response. Your mind is racing along with your heart. There’s no way he’s being serious… but the look on his face tells you otherwise. He raises his eyebrows again in question.

“Is that a bet?”

“Maybe it is… and you know I never lose.”

He’s referring to his competitiveness by nature. It’s true that as long as you've known him, he won’t stand losing. It’s a part of being a Kiszka you’ve figured out by now. They always bend the rules in their favor, making sure they’re on the winning side of whatever bet, whatever contest. 

“I don’t think you’re winning this one Jakey.” You mean for it to come off as condescending but the second you hear the words come out of your mouth you wish to pull them back in. You can tell he’s taken them as an even further challenge as his eyebrows raise in question.

He leans forward on the couch, planting his hands on his knees until you can feel his breath.

“Well I wouldn’t lose, but just to humor you, I’ll bet you whatever you want.”

A low tingle has formed inside your stomach. A familiar feeling - the anxious excitement. The thrill of the flirt, although you still can’t tell just how playful it is, and that thought alone makes you want to hurl or pounce on him, you still haven’t decided. 

“I get whatever I want?” For some reason, confidence is building inside you. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you - so sure of himself that you have no choice but to match the energy. Or maybe it’s because deep down, you know you want whatever he’s thinking of giving to you.

He gives you a slow nod, smiling again at your new slightly eager tone.

“I want you to admit that you’re not some guitar god, you’re just another guy. You need to stop acting so full of yourself, you need to be humbled.”

He laughs again, a genuine laugh that reminds you of your best friend, although it doesn’t seem that’s the person sitting in front of you right now.

“Sure y/n, and if I win, you have to call me ‘The Sex God.’ ”

The nervous laughter bubbles out of you as you cast your eyes to your feet. The worst part of this is that he’s acting like such a douchebag, but you don’t hate it. In fact you find yourself wanting to know what it’s like to sleep with the sex god, as stupid as it sounds.

“Why do you want to so bad Jakey?”

“Well first of all, don’t act like you don’t want to, I can see it written all over your face. You forget I know you better than anyone. And second, don’t act so naive.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, simultaneously nervous and excited for the answer.

“I love you and care about you, so much, you’re my best friend, but don’t act like we’re above all that. We’ve kissed before y/n, you really think we’d never go farther?”

“Well… I’m not really sure. I guess the thought crossed my mind… maybe I thought it would happen eventually.”

Your own confession slightly shocks you, but as soon as you say the words aloud, nothing has ever made more sense. You look back to him and he looks almost proud of you, and it makes you want to jump into his arms and suck the praise right out of him.

“That’s my girl.” He smiles again, flashing you all his teeth, making your heart melt all over again.

“Come on, don’t overthink it.” 

He starts to stand up, making the whole situation seem very, very real. You close your eyes for a moment, just in case this is some sort of dream, but when you open them, you’re even more sure that this is what you want. You want him. You want your best friend, and as wrong as it might be, it's the truth.

He extends his hand, a simple gesture, an invitation, and you take it, letting him lead you into unknown waters.

He pulls you in front of him, letting you lead the way to the room you’ve slept in a million times. His hands meet your hips as you walk, the touch feeling searing hot and trickling down until you can feel the wetness between your legs.

Your mind is simultaneously racing and completely empty. How is it that an act so forbidden could feel so right? So simple?

The curtains are pulled back on the window allowing a sliver of moonlight to poke into the room. Aside from that, the lights are off and you almost ask him to turn them on but then decide it’s probably for the best.

Once he reaches the bed, he turns to face you and his features start to come into view as your eyes adjust to the darkness. He wears a smug grin as he extends his hand for you to grab once more. He sits on the bed, shuffling backwards as you grab his hand, letting him pull you to meet him. 

He rests his body along the headboard and you crawl closer, stilling in front of him on your knees, unsure of your next move. Thankfully he does the thinking for you.

“Turn around.”

Without second guessing it, you turn around so that your back is to him, and impatiently, he pulls your hips back, reminding you of his strength so that you rest, slotted in between his extended legs, back flush against his chest.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself to melt into his touch, after all, it is familiar. Your head lays back in the crook of his neck and his lips ghost over your ear.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

His voice is barely above a whisper and sends a shiver down your spine. Without saying a word you lift up your arms and allow him to slide off the thin fabric. Having chosen to skip the bra this morning, your chest springs free to which he hums in approval. 

“Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Carefully, his fingers slide against your skin, trailing along the top of your breast before kneading into the soft skin. He emits a low growl in your ear as your back arches, chasing his touch.

Before he has the chance to ask, you lift your hips off the bed to slide your pants down, along with the lacey panties you had chosen this morning - such a shame he isn’t able to see them. Upon your eager initiative, Jake grants you a kiss to the exposed flesh of your neck, traveling up to whisper in your ear.

“Good girl.”

The proximity of his voice, the words he speaks, the rush of it all makes you utter a small moan that doesn’t go unnoticed. He seems to suck it in along with the small mark he makes just below your ear. You savor the feeling of his wet mouth on you, hoping it never leaves as his hand starts to slide down your stomach.

Your legs part for him as his hand reaches your mound, stilling there, garnering anticipation that makes you hold your breath, releasing it when he slides an inch further.

Finally, like the first gasp you take upon emerging from water, his fingers slide over your clit to your entrance to gather up the evidence of your arousal. A small moan is muffled through your gritted teeth as his fingers slide through you, he laughs against your ear. 

“All this for me?”

His breath tickles you and in an act that makes your head spin, he sucks gingerly on your earlobe while plunging his middle and ring finger deep inside you. The sudden pressure causes your head to push back even further as you arch away from him. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest as his fingers push in even deeper, testing the limits of your tight walls.

Whines and moans surpass your lips as his fingers start to curl inside you, pulling in and out as they tuck in. Have his fingers always been this thick? This heavy? Watching him play guitar they always seemed so nimble but now, now you aren’t so sure. 

The mere stretch of only two of them makes you wonder what it would feel like to have a third, a fourth or perhaps to have his cock instead. How it would feel stretching you out even further.

With his hand picking up a steady rhyme, his lips are back on you, biting and licking their way up to your ear to whisper sweet praises. He moves back to the skin of your shoulder, marking you in a way that may make you feel ashamed tomorrow, but today, all you feel is the pure ecstasy he’s supplying you with.

“How does it feel, baby?”

“Good.” You manage to choke out, hardley comprehending what he’s saying as his fingers jolt inside of you.

“Just keep on feeling, I'll get you there.”

He licks a stripe up to the skin behind your ear, circling it there as you push your head deeper into his touch. Your legs start to tremble, feeling as if the pleasure is too much while being not nearly enough. The slow build starts in your stomach and travels to your chest, tightening while your muscles contract, flowing to your toes as they gently curl and flex. 

“That’s it, just give it up baby.”

Your moans become sporadic and in mere seconds you feel almost there, except he slows his fingers down to which you whine in protest. His low gravely laughter hits the shell of your ear going straight to your core as he picks the pace back up, reminding you of how close you were.

Your hips arch away from him again but this time his hand travels to the flesh of your breast, squeezing and pulling you back to him. It almost hurts as his fingers pinch around your nipple, but at the same time, pain feels like a foreign concept entirely. You scoot back too, feeling his rock solid cock threatening to burst from his pants. You want to see it, want to touch it, taste it. However your thoughts are cut off when it finally explodes inside of you.

You can’t hear the sounds you’re making as your legs thrash against the sheets, head turning and arching as his fingers work away inside of you. It washes you over, seeming like it has no end, making you feel like this was the best decision you’ve ever made. 

However as soon as it starts, it slows, letting you still feel the pleasant buzz as your legs calm down, still twitching and jolting with every slowed movement of his strong fingers.

“Number 1.”

He hums in your ear. He sounds amused, like you're only a toy he gets the pleasure of playing with, however you have no problem with that if it means you get to feel like this.

“Can you give me another?” He poses it as a question, but you know it's really a demand.

His fingers don’t stop inside you, threatening to pull you into overstimulation as they continue to deliciously curl inside. You turn your face to his, whining against his lips which he presses into yours, for just a split second before pulling back - like he regrets the action, however you don’t have enough time to process it.

The fizzling orgasm picks back up, this time coming from deeper within, almost sizzling white hot, making your legs shake even harder. It hasn’t started yet, but it’s coming. Bubbling up slower so that you hope it can be over with, to save you from the burning anticipation. 

“Jake I- I can’t… it’s too much.”

“No it isn’t, just relax, feel it. You’re so close, let me have it, I want it.”

Fuck. The greed he so shamelessly emits. The greed for you, for your cum. It’s enough to make your mind go blank as you force yourself to just feel the feelings he’s giving you. 

He pushes his hand back so that the crook of his thumb rubs against your clit with every drag of his fingers. One of two swipes and you’re rocking your hips into his them, chasing the feeling as it washes you over again.

His name falls from your lips until it’s the only word you know, and in the far distance you can hear his own struggling moans of pleasure, his own ragged breathing as you tremble against him.

When it becomes too much, your legs shut around his hand, but his feet lock over your ankles, pulling your legs apart and overpowering them with his weight until you’re spread even wider while his hand finishes the job. 

Finally, before you would have fallen into the waters of bliss, drowned forever, his hand slows and fingers gently slide out of you. You watch them, glistening with the moonlight as they rest on your heaving stomach. 

Your legs are still open as they jolt and shudder. A single nip is given to your neck before a kiss is placed in its spot. “You did so good for me, so so good.”

A small smile makes its way across your face, although he can’t see it. You want to find the right words to let him know how good he can make you feel, better than anyone else, but your lack of words must do for now. You can’t help yourself as you turn your face to tuck into his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

His other hand pets your hair as you take a few deep breaths, grounding yourself. Before you’ve barely regained your footing, his hand is drifting lower, you can feel the wetness it leaves in its path before a single digit circles your swollen clit. You yelp in surprise as it presses in further. You bite the skin of his neck, listening and reveling in the hiss he makes that flows out of him like a soft whine. It’s delectable and reignites that flame inside you.

“Can you give me number 3?” He whispers to you, like he’s scared to wake you even though you’re far from asleep. You give a slow nod and pick your face up to watch his soaked fingers drag further down your slit until three of them tease at your entrance. 

You bite your bottom lip as they start to slide in, stretching you with every inch, stinging in the perfect way when he pushes them deeper in, relying on a little force to press them all the way in. A chokes out moan struggles out of you, filling the room in a way that should make you feel ashamed, but in this moment, you feel nothing of the sort. 

Once his fingers reach in as far as they'll go, he wastes no time in picking up a merciless pace. It's hard to even register the speed as they pump in and out, filling you up in the most satisfying way you’ve ever experienced.

His mouth is on you again. Hot. Wet. And strong as he licks and sucks with no real purpose, only to satisfy his needs through watching you like this.

“Cum for me Lovey, make me win, I wanna watch it come out of you, soak my hand even more. Come on, let me have it… fuck Lovey…”

It’s something about that stupid nickname falling from his lips so desperately as his dominant demeanor falters, showing you his true need for you. It’s not hard to give it up as it builds faster than before. It feels like it springs out of nowhere until you're screaming into the otherwise quiet room. You’ll surely get strange looks walking from his apartment in the morning, but it doesn't matter, nothing matters. You feel on fire, perfect, fulfilled.

His teeth drag along your skin as your head thrashes in the crook of his neck, legs threatening to break free from his grasp as he struggles to hold you there. His hand works relentlessly as you moan and whine while your hands twist into the sheets, toes curling, eyes rolling back as you lose sense of the world around you.

His other hand snakes down to tease over your sensitive clit as his teeth bite into the flesh of your neck. Your whole body is numb the second he touches you there. The white hot pleasure is enough to make you cease to exist. You’re just a body floating in a colorless void with sounds in the distance you aren’t sure you're making. 

His voice raises in volume until it breaks through your void, allowing you to hear him. He’s choking on his words through a cloud of lust, “Come on Lovey, you can give me one more, give me number 4.” It sounds like he’s never wanted something more in his life. Sounds like he needs it more than you do. His voice is quivering through painted breaths as his hands move even faster, working you with perfect opposition. 

His tongue darts out, licking into your ear before teeth come to bite around your earlobe, enough to make it sting, enough to make you want more. And then it burst out of you. The only sense - touch, the warmness seeping in from under you. Your legs threaten to break the bed as they break free from Jake’s grasp, clenching around his hands that show no sign of stopping. 

You feel it around your legs too, the warmness, the flow, the wetness. His breath is on your neck again, you can hear him moaning into your ear. 

“That’s it Lovey, good girl, good girl baby. Just give it up, come on, that’s it, soak me, yeah just like that…”

A few more seconds and he slows his movements down until your legs fall from around his hands. They lay defeated on the bed as he removes his fingers from you. Your chest is heaving up and down as you come back to earth to find a dark spot sitting on the bed beneath you.

When you realize what it is you cast your eyes away, hiding once more in the crook of his neck, but he sits you up taller to pull your face away.

“What's wrong y/n?”

You don’t answer, don't speak. There's nothing you could possibly say to him, that is until you meet his eyes, once dark with lust now turned sweet, and you can almost see them shine in the moonlight.

For some reason, in this moment, the air of seriousness breaks and your face erupts in laughter. It doesn’t take much for him to join in and soon you’re laughing together, just like old times, but it doesn't feel wrong. Not in the slightest.

“I’ve never done that before.” You finally speak up, looking back to the ruined sheets.

“Well that. Was easily the hottest fucking thing i’ve ever seen.” “Really?”

“Yes. Without a doubt.”

You stare at him for a moment, letting yourself blush and smile as he repeats the action. The sweet moment is short lived however when he turns it back to the bet.

“So if making you cum 3 times makes me the Sex God… then what does 4 times make me?”

“Oh shut the fuck up Jake.”

“Well I won the bet. You better uphold your side of the deal.”

You stare at him angrily before muttering under your breath, but of course that isn’t enough for him. His smile, despite being covered by shadows, lights up the room with his pride, flowing off of him like sex.

“You’re The Sex God.”

“What was that? Couldn’t really hear you.”

“You’re The fucking Sex God Jake, I swear to god if you make me say it one more time.”

“Okay thank you. I’m satisfied. By the way, do you want to put some clothes on?”

You look down, blushing once more at your exposed skin. Before you even have time to have any shred of decency to cover yourself up, he's lifting his shirt up and handing it to you. You thank him and slide it over your body before stealing a quick glance to his smooth chest. You quickly look back up to his smirking face, and roll your eyes once more.

“Oh uh by the way.. I know this isn’t the best timing but uhh I don’t have any extra sheets so we’re gonna have to sleep on the couch…”

.

.

.

.

Part 2

#jake kiszka #jake x reader #greta van fleet #greta van fic #smut #romance #friends to lovers #best friends

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Midnight Prayer | One Shot

Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge / Tiny bit of Enver Gortash x Dark Urge

Chapter Count: One Shot | Read on AO3 Word Count: 4,016

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 after Gortash's coronation in Act 3. Explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge after the implications of a past relationship between the Dark Urge and Enver Gortash are made known. Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Mentions of Violence, Soft Astarion, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character Rating: Mature

Author Note: Those new lines in Patch 6 between Durge and Gortash are to blame for this. Plus the fact that I adore the Astarion x Dark Urge dynamic because they're on the same level, meaning they're both barely functioning beings who no business getting into a relationship and yet they make it work. Also, Astarion gets to be the supportive one when Durge goes off the rails.

All these idiots live rent free in my head and I had this scene that just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out. This is a one-shot based on the same Durge MC, Eli, as my other ongoing fic - which I have not updated in some time, and I am sorry for that. Have some brainrot to make up for it! This is grade-A mushy, soft garbage.

Sleep was difficult to find as Eli lay on the stiff makeshift cot. Her glassy half-focused eyes were fixed on the patchwork ceiling of Astarion’s tent as her mind coiled around and around, like a snake trying to suffocate itself. Her thoughts were circular, aimless and chaotic as she chased the ghosts of memories that always haunted her nights.

Sleeplessness was nothing new, and Eli’s propensity for restlessness and nightmares was well known throughout camp. She had a tendency to toss and turn as rest evaded her, and when the darkness of slumber finally overtook her in the small hours of mornings it was never peaceful. She was often agitated and unsettled, mumbling low to herself until the shock of some cruel fever dream sent her into an outburst of screams as she flailed and fought to rouse herself from whatever terror had uncaged itself in her mind.

She’d wake shivering, breathing as if she were fighting for her life against legions of the Absolute rather than visions within her own mind. He was always there, though, whispering soothing reminders that they were safe. That they were together. That the horrors inside her broken mind were toothless phantoms. Remnants of a fractured past she could only catch flashes of.

She’d offered on many occasions to sleep alone, saying it made little sense for both Astarion and her to suffer because of her tortuous insomnia. He’d been firm in his refusals and finally told her that if she didn’t stop saying such ludicrous nonsense he’d figure out how to charm one of Gale’s used socks to jump down her throat every time she mentioned the idea.

Gods, was she thankful for that absurd and stubborn man.

She turned her head, eyes focusing on the pale elf who slept beside her. They’d settled into a habit of overnighting in his tent due to the plank of wood that served as a haphazard bed. Like her, Astarion’s sleep could be troubled, disturbed by his own breeds of monsters that lurked around the corners in his brain. His past was filled with grim and vicious memories. What small comforts he had been able to acquire over the past 200 years were things he clung to like life rafts upon a boiling and thrashing ocean. The stiff plank he slept on brought him a strange sort of peacefulness. He’d told her once that the only soft bed he’d been allowed to use while under Cazador’s control was the large plush bed in the palace’s guest room. The room where he and the other spawn “entertained” those who were brought back for Cazador to feast upon.

His bed in the dorms had been stiff and old, and yet he’d far preferred it to the lavish guest bed. Sleeping on something too downy and cushioned reminded him of the countless nights he’d spent being smothered into a pliable mattress by whatever piece of transient garbage he’d lured back to the palace. They’d have their way with him while he’d disassociate, his body working through the motions of sex while his mind walled itself off. It had become second nature to disconnect himself from the present the moment he slumped onto that soft bed.

It was a cruel byproduct of his torment that laying on comfortable bedding triggered a deep seeded anxiety in him, but Eli honestly didn’t mind the stiff makeshift cot Astarion had set up in his tent for them. Her body recalled sleeping on worse, even if her mind didn’t clearly remember the details. Astarion had even started laying down a thin bedroll atop the plank once their shared sleeping arrangements became a regular thing. It had been completely unprompted. One evening she’d entered his tent and it had simply been there, an unspoken acknowledgement of the validity of their relationship.

They were both uncouth morons when it came to navigating the delicacies and emotions of romantic relationships. They’d been quick to indulge in one another physically, the both of them looking to find refuge from the specters of their pasts in one another’s arms. They hadn’t meant for it to mean anything, and yet they’d kept seeking one another out - drawn together like kobolds are drawn to shiny objects. They’d tried ignoring their growing affections, but neither one of them were particularly good at pretending to be nonchalant and stable. Primarily because neither one of them really knew what that looked like.

Astarion had confessed first, admitting to his initially manipulative intentions with her and revealing truths about his enslavement to Cazador that made her heart ache for him. Eli knew, instinctively, that empathy was not an emotion she was incredibly familiar with. It made her anxious, feeling for someone else. And yet, when Astarion had said he wanted something real with her, she’d felt an almost wild desperation surge to life within herself. She wanted that, too. With him.

A cruel and vicious voice at the back of her mind had admonished her for her pathetic weakness. She should be punished, skinned alive for allowing herself to feel this kind of fondness and yearning for someone else. Once, she had been worshiped as a god by those around her. Once, she had been feared and her name whispered in awe and horror. Once, she had been something powerful, something violent and vicious, a conduit of destruction and carnage. Though the details were fractured, scattered about her ruined brain like shards of glass, she knew instinctually that she was a child of slaughter and that the bonds of mortals should have been beneath her.

But that didn’t stop her. Perhaps…perhaps she could be different. Something else. Something that was valued as more than just a weapon. Something that wasn’t just a means to an end. Something that didn’t need to butcher and rip the world inside out in order to be loved.

She’d pushed the Urge down, beating it back as she confessed her own affections for Astarion.

That had been some weeks ago, back in the Shadowlands. Now, they were just outside Baldur’s Gate, and things were…good between them. To her never-ending astonishment.

Her eyes focused on the sleeping elf next to her. He looked so peaceful, the worried lines of his face smooth and serene at rest. He was pallid, pretty and perfect like a cadaver forever tranquil. Just one stab, a stake through the heart and he’d always be like this – he’d never know torment or despair again. No one would ever hurt him.

She took a long, slow breath and banished the intrusive thoughts back to the shadows of her mind where they always lingered. She would never…she couldn’t…gods, she hated those thoughts that never let her be. They filled her with a sick guilt as she recalled nights tied up, howling and screaming and raging as she spat out all the ways she’d flay and ruin his beautiful body. Afterwards, once the Urges had quieted, Astarion would simply laugh as he cut her bonds, always joking about how you had to pay good coin for degradation like that in the city. He’d hold her until she calmed, the both of them quiet, content to just be together for one more day.

They shouldn’t work, not as a couple or as anything else, really. They were barely functional as individuals. Together, they should have been about as operational as a dumpster that was missing one wheel and was on fire. But they did work. They were careful with the broken pieces of each other, treating them with reverence and respect. They understood pain all too well, and not just the physical kind but the raw and panicked pain of having everything you valued ripped away. Of having your very self torn from your control…the pain of being used and the fear that no matter how loud you screamed or how hard you fought it would happen again.

The fear that you would never be anything more than a tool.

And so they were gentle with one another, in a way only reserved for them. Careful touches and trusting hands, concerned glances and warm smiles, constant wordless affirmations that they were at one another’s backs - that when one of them crumbled the other would be there to help build them back up, attentively and without judgement.

Neither of them knew what they were doing. Their combined histories with healthy relationships added up to an unsurprising number of zero. Astarion had admitted to her that he couldn’t remember ever bedding the same person twice. And Eli…well, she couldn’t remember anything, frankly. Her memories of past lovers were nonexistent…at least…

At least until today. Today, when they’d finally met the infamous Enver Gortash.

The name had always struck her as strange, from the first time she heard it when Karlach told Eli about the tiefling had acquired her infernal engine. The name had stirred something in her brain, like a familiar tune that she couldn’t remember the words for. And every time someone mentioned him, that sense grew stronger. It was as if there was a crack in her skull and every time she’d reach for that sense of familiarity, it would leak out and away just beyond reach.

Until today, when they stood in the opulent and grand hall of Wyrm’s Rock Fortress, surrounded by the elite of Baldur’s Gate, and she finally saw the man who had wrought so much suffering not only upon the city and the coast, but on her friends…

The flash in his eyes when they met hers…a sense of knowing, a sting of excitement. That spark of familiarity suddenly blazed hot and she knew this man was not a stranger. Not to her…

“If you keep staring, darling, I’m going to start charging you for the privilege,” a soft and slightly chiding voice lurched her back into the present.

Eli flinched, startled, blinking away the haze of her thoughts and focusing on Astarion, who now was peering at her through half-lidded and slightly weary eyes. He’d been sleeping with an arm draped across her waist – Astarion had grown fond of resting with an arm or a hand touching her, and she liked it, too. It was comforting.

He trailed his hand along her side in a calming manner, brows furrowing slightly with a hint of concern.

“Sorry,” Eli said with a slight yawn. “I was worlds away.” She gave him a small, tired smile as she reached out and brushed her fingers against the ruffles of his shirt, mindlessly beginning to fiddle with the cloth.

Astarion’s hand slid to her back, pulling her closer until her head was tucked below his chin and he could rest with his cheek against her silvery hair.

Eli could feel the soft rumble of his voice vibrate up from his chest as he chuckled quietly. “I’ve been told I have that effect on people,” he mumbled cheerily as his other hand began to gently brush through her hair, fingers carefully smoothing out any snarls as he stroked back and forth.

She hummed appreciatively, breathing deep and feeling eased by the familiar scent of rosemary and bergamot. “And who told you that?” she asked, teasingly.

“Hmm,” he pondered, running a dexterous finger along the side of her ear, causing goosebumps to prick along her arms. “I think it was you,” he mused slyly before his voice dipped lower into a growl and she felt his breath warm against her ear. “You remember, don’t you? That one night you told me I ravished you so thoroughly your soul left your body.”

He couldn’t see Eli’s exaggerated eye roll, but he could hear the grin in her voice as she responded. “I seem to remember that very same night you saying I exhausted you into delirium,” she teased, poking tenderly at his chest. “In the best way possible, of course,” Eli smirked.

Astarion sighed, the hand on her back drawing aimless circles as he murmured, “I do miss our nighttime trysts.”

Eli smiled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and placing a light kiss there. “You know what they say. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or some such bullshit like that…”

“They sound awfully boring, whoever they are.” The vampire hummed low in his throat, kicking a leg over her waist and hooking his foot between her legs at her knees so that they were tangled together in a possessive embrace.

Eli just chuckled. They’d backed off the sexual aspects of their relationship for now, the both of them having their own flavors of hang ups that they needed to sort through. For Eli, that meant parsing through her strange, sometimes disturbing Urges which continued to insist that the lines between butchery and eroticism were blurred. Bloodplay was one thing, and that would likely remain a happy little staple in their titillating toolbox once they were ready to be that physically intimate again. But Eli had…other thoughts. Thoughts she wasn’t exactly comfortable with. Darker ones that bubbled up at extremely inopportune times and had her questioning whether she really wanted to shed light on her obscured past.

She breathed in Astarion’s scent, grounding herself in the now and pushing those musing away for another day. The desire between Eli and Astarion had not diminished, and on more than one occasion they had teetered precariously on the boundaries they’d set and wondering whether they should just say fuck it and…well…fuck. They’d always talk themselves down from the ledge, though, comfortable in the knwoeldge that when it did happen it would be earthshattering.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, love?” Astarion’s voice held a note of worry and Eli realized she’d been drifting off into the confines of her own brain again.

“Everything,” she sighed, frustrated with herself.

Astarion was silent for a moment, considering. The hand in her hair stilled while the one on her back pulled her in a bit tighter. “Is it…” he began, then paused a bit uncertainly, hesitant with his question. “Are you thinking about today? About…Gortash?”

He said the name so quietly that it would have been inaudible had they not been so closely pressed together. Eli wasn’t surprised about the question. She’d been acutely aware of how Astarion’s eyes never left her as she spoke with the newly crowned Archduke of Baldur’s Gate earlier that day. How he had discreetly positioned himself closely behind her, just off to her right. How he’d tensed, fingers ghosting near the hilt of a hidden dagger when Gortash said he’d always liked Eli. How his gaze darkened and his jaw tightened as Astarion sized the man up from across the hall before they left.

She knew this was a delicate situation for the vampire. Astarion despised showing any sort of vulnerability that could be construed as a reason for pity. Vulnerability, in general, was something he was still figuring out how to navigate after two centuries of living in an environment where anything and everything that could be used against him was twisted into a tool for subjugation and pain. Even with her, there were times when he wouldn’t let his walls come down, needing space to sort through his own internal barriers before he was ready to open up. Eli didn’t mind, and would give him all the time and space he needed. And bit by bit it became easier, for the both of them.

“That…yes,” she admitted, wanting to be truthful with him.

It wasn’t just Gortash, though. It was what he had told her, about Eli’s role in the whole Cult of the Absolute fraud. It was difficult for her to reconcile what she had apparently done with who she was now…the misery she’d set in motion. The lives she had destroyed. She shut her eyes and pressed closer to Astarion, seeking comfort in the cool of his skin against the inferno she felt inside.

He hugged her close, voicing a thought that had been gnawing away at his insides all day. “Were the two of you…close? Like us?”

The tentative, halting way in which he asked squeezed at her heart. As if he were bracing himself for something terrible, for something that would rip her away from him, just like everything else he’d ever given a damn about.

She thought for a while, mulling over the question. There was still so much that she didn’t know about who she was. Who she had been. She’d tell him what she could, though. He deserved that.

“I think we were. Close, I mean,” she clarified when she felt Astarion stiffen anxiously. “Not like us, though.”

She pulled her head back, out from under his chin, so she could see his face and meet his gaze with her own. Astarion’s eyes were round and distressed, the pinch between his brows furrowed and the lines of his face were tense. His eyes searched her own, desperately wanting to know who that man was to her while also fearing the answer.

Eli smiled warmly, bringing her hand up to brush one of his white curls behind his ear. His face softened slightly at her touch while the hand on her back clutched at her shirt as if to hold her here with him.

“There’s still so much darkness in my memory. But, there are things that have come back in flashes and fragments,” she explained, holding his gaze as her finger trailed to the edge of his eyebrow. “And while I’m not wholly sure what Gortash and I were to one another, I know it wasn’t like this.” Her hand came to rest on his cheek, thumb gently caressing his face near the corner of his mouth.

“Not like us,” she affirmed with a tenderness that allowed Astarion to relax, the stiffness easing out of him as the hint of a smile twitched at his lips. “He knew what happened to me,” she said softly, putting into words a thought that had been lingering at the back of her mind.

“He knew what happened to me, and he welcomed the person who did it into his confidence,” she said with a tinge of sadness to her voice. There was an ache of betrayal behind her words, and thought she didn’t fully understand everything her history with Gortash entailed, she understood this. “He stood by while I was unmade. While everything I was, the person he claims to care for, was brutalized and decimated.”

Eli’s words took on a cold edge, sharp as a shard of ice. Astarion listened intently, his breath caught at the back of his throat. He ached to pull her back into him, to wrap her up in his arms and shut the world out. Instead, he placed his hand on the back of her own and intertwined his fingers with hers, holding it against his cheek as Eli spoke.

“When I woke up on the nautiloid, I was nothing. Just the discarded scraps of whoever I had been. I had been thrown away. And nobody came looking for me.” She paused, her eyes flicking down in a brief moment of uncertainty.

There were some truths between them that had still gone unsaid. Truths that neither of them were ready to admit, and some that simply didn’t need words to be understood. Not this, though. This, she wanted him to hear.

“Since then, it’s been difficult not to think of myself as damaged goods. Something that was used up until it broke and was discarded.” She felt Astarion squeeze her hand and she looked back to him. There was a pang of recognition in his red eyes. “Everyone who I spoke to about my…urges, they all confirmed that there was something very wrong with me, even if they sympathized. Everyone except you.”

She paused, brushing her thumb once more against his face before she lifted her hand from him and took his own hand in hers. She pulled it to her lips, lightly kissing his knuckles while he stared at her, afraid to take his eyes off her for fear that she and this moment might evaporate if he did. He had stopped breathing, which luckily was not something he necessarily needed to do in order to maintain his existence.

Eli searched his face as Astarion waited for her to go on, breathless and just a tiny bit desperate to hear what she would say next. She wondered if he understood just how much it meant to her to have someone who didn’t see the wreck that she was when they looked at her. Someone who didn’t see a monster and only saw her, broken pieces be damned.

She thought he probably did…

“You were the only one who encouraged me to simply be whoever I was, darkness and all. I know at the time you were probably just looking to entertain yourself with whatever chaos and bloodshed I could cause,” she laughed and the expression on Astarion’s face melted into one of complete adoration.

“Guilty,” Astarion admitted with a laugh of his own. “And you haven’t disappointed,” he added softly, brushing a knuckle back up against her lips with delicate reverence.

She kissed at it, holding his tender gaze. “I don’t think you know how much that meant to me, though. And then later, when I was at my worst, you stayed by me and took care of me and you never stopped.”

Eli swallowed down the lump in her throat and blinked away the warmth that was threatening at her eyes.

“Nothing else could be like us, because no one has ever cared about me like you,” she concluded, smiling softly and whispering the words with the sincerity of a prayer.

Astarion stared at Eli for a long moment, emotions colliding and burning in his chest with so much vigor he was surprised his dead heart didn’t start beating again. He felt elated and awed by what she’d said. So much so that he was struck speechless and could only play her words over and over again in his mind, wanting to capture them perfectly and tuck them somewhere deep inside himself where no one could reach to steal them away. He couldn’t recall anyone ever saying anything to him that made him feel so cherished and significant. He traced the planes of her face with eyes that were beginning to wet as he tried to clear his throat and failed.

Eli watched Astarion carefully for a moment before her eyes widened in concern and she lifted a hand to him, carding it gently through his curled hair.

“Oh shit, did I break you?” she asked, only half joking as she stroked her hand through his hair.

The feel of it helped to calm him as a wide smile spread over his face, eyes half-lidded and looking at Eli like she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

“Come here you sweet, silly thing,” Astarion said, voice low and underpinned with a raw adoration that caused a flutter to take up in Eli’s chest.

He pulled her into a needy embrace; one hand placed softly in her hair as he tucked her head back under his chin, the other hand tightening around the small of her back to hold her close. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in slow, savoring her scent. She’d always smelled like wildflowers and the cool mist before a storm, like something exciting and freeing.

“Gods, you’re incredible,” he breathed, wondering what in the hells he had ever done in his irrelevant life to deserve her admiration. “I don’t think I’m ever going to want to let you go, my love.”

Eli wrapped her arms around him and for a moment she felt safe, secure and at peace.

“Then don’t,” she whispered against him.

They stayed wrapped up in one another until dawn, thankful to have one more day and hopeful for so many more.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur’s gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #astarion x mc #astarion x durge #astarion x tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion romance #soft astarion #sweet astarion #durgestarion #durgetash

[the-black-bulls]

Realization of the Day:

(⚠ huge manga spoilers for anime only below)

Yami is an actually pretty darn tragic character if you take five mins to think about it and take a good look at his history; I managed a quote based on this as a joke here, but he's indeed covered nearly every sad and tragic backstory trope in the book.

Let's see... he lost his mother who died from childbirth when he's 5-6 years old, and spent the better part of his childhood on pointless and intense training by his abusive, sexist, daughter-beater, war obsessed father; and then at the age of 13 said father forced a freaking drug on his baby sister and Yami had to witness the massacre of their clan by her hand before he took down his father for once and all to protect her before he stopped her and held the weight of all her crimes on his shoulders and left his hometown to never return again.

Then... he shipwrecked, barely surviving death, on an unwelcoming land and suffered from language barrier, culture shock, xenophobia and about every typical "Why Clover Kingdom is the Worst Kingdom in the World" key point, all lasted for two years until he turned 15 and recieved his grimoire, but prior and shortly after to it Yami was pretty much on his own with no one else to rely on or a home to return to.

The... things got better, no? He met the Faust Bros, he met Julius, he was offered a roof to sleep under and a chance to start fresh; 15 years lad who's already suffered a lot but ready to live and learn against all the odds with Nacht as his partner in crime and Morgen as his best friend... and then they both got screwed up years later when Yami, at the age of 18, wasn't around, so he only got to face the loss through a visit to the latter's grave while the former grieved his brother's death, and Yami never stopped smoking ever since.

It was right then and there when Yami decided, enough's enough, and promised to create a squad that became a home for the unlucky who shared some of Yami's experience in his past, be it the abusive family, lost of a beloved one, crippling loneliness, crime burdens, being unfit to the norms, and the list goes on. My favorite example is a threeway tie between Noelle, who is pretty much Ichika if Ichika didn't have an amazing brother, and Gauche, whose first meeting with Yami makes a hell lot of sense now that we know Yami also had a sister he threw his life for her sake, and finally Nero, who will never be able to return to her old life and is fairly content about it because she's too loyal to the person she loves to cry over homesickness.

Yami has been there, done that, experienced those, and is still going through some TraumaWorthyBullshit™ right now, and while he rarely shows negative signs of what he's been through, I like to think that he offers the Black Bulls what he always wanted to be offered.

That, by accepting them and letting them live however they want, but above all, by giving them a safe place to belong to.

In short, the Black Bulls is Yami's way to deal with the bullshit that's his lifetime worth of trauma. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#raise your hand if you love yami #it's yami loving hours #not a quote #black clover #black clover meta #the black bulls #...and people have the nerve to downplay yami's hardships #ichika yami #black clover manga #long post #yami's relationship with the faust bros needs its own post #so does his similarities with the bulls especially gauche

[blingblong55]

Tall Child- 141

Based on a request:

Currently thinking of feral R/n (my specialty, the shredded wall saga) then sort of started to sort of reflect on my childhood and got sad :( Could I request like a feral R/n origin story (if we can call it that lmao) of like R/n always being told to grow up even from being young? And never really being able to do child things, and then they joined the military which is dehumanising in its own right, so then when they go to the 141 and end up stabbing a wall or desk of something repetitively and gets caught, they’re expecting to be marched to Price’s office to be reprimanded, but instead whoever found R/n is just like “come on kid, let’s get you something to do that isn’t property damage,” and they go and get like a little archeology set or go dig holes outside together? And that’s how R/n ended up being feral it’s just because they’re finally allowed to be a kid again. This is such a long-winded ask I’m so sorry 💀🫧

A/N: R/N is like Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds in my opinion...kinda

GN!Reader, some angst (don't think so...but just in case), fluff

Long ago, r/n was a child who never got to enjoy the word. Never grew up being covered in dirt, laughing over silly little things, destroying stuff and enjoying it, and living life as any normal child would. You see, long ago, the r/n we know of today never grew up with such memories. Always forced to be an adult in the mind of a curious and innocent child. The days when r/n would want to run through a pile of leaves during autumn, blow bubbles and try to burst as many as possible, never to be lived just be dreamed. Never did they get the chance to live a life most adults now long for.

Life, what a funny word.

Back then, you wanted a castle, tea parties, jump-through puddles, plastic dinosaurs on the floor, and race car toys to be used as a child would. Now that you are an adult, that life is more than a faint memory. Instead of watching cartoons in your pyjamas, at times, you wake up in a trench, snipe in and some dead comrades or enemies in your area, a dead field is your new show. What would you ever tell your younger self if that 6-year-old r/n would be standing there, looking up at you with tears in their eyes because mum and dad said no more cartoons?

For a while now, your team Task Force 141 have noticed how things in their part of the base have been 'damaged' no clue how walls, floors, or doors are being damaged. Until one night when Captain Price walks into the common room. There you stood, giggling at some wall you were making holes to. Ahhh, his very own little monster, having fun as a child would.

He knows you, knows how you are and as a soldier himself, he understands why you are this way, how bubbly you are, just like a child. His whole team was like this behind closed doors, especially you. As you giggled and made jokes to yourself, he stood there, arms crossed over his chest and a small smile on him. He doesn't have any children to spoil or watch grow, he only has you and Soap, the youngest in the task force. His very own children, maybe not by blood or adoption but being in his team makes him a father to both of you.

He never admits your little actions bring him a sense of happiness and the fact that he has accidentally talked to Laswell about you, showing pictures and sharing stories as a father would. She makes fun of him for it, "The man who didn't have time for wives or kids, having two tall children by his side, what a sight, John." she chuckles.

He taps your shoulder, "Grim, what're you doing?" Always the father younger you felt safe with. "Nothin'" you, like a child about to get scolded say. A small smile on you, trying to convince him you were still his innocent kid.

He sighs, how could ever be mad at you. Never could he stay mad, those puppy eyes looking up at him.

"...Sorry...?" you softly spoke, he chuckles and offers a hand. "C'mon, let's get out of here before Ghost gets us both scolded." You get up, his hand at your back, guiding you out. "you know, that is considered damage to government property, lucky for you...I'll get you some stuff to avoid any charges" he winks and guides you to his office. For a good hour or two, you two searched the internet, looking at things that maybe he could order for a grown soldier and said soldier use without looking weird.

He found a large sandbox that could be used as a kids' archaeology box kit. His excuse if anyone asked what Soap and you were doing would be "assigned on a mission where they have to dig some things up, it's a two-person mission, classified." What a great lie he'd give Ghost.

At times, when he'd "help you two train" he would sit on a lawn chair, rest against the fabric and chuckle when either of you found a "dinosaur" bone. There was a moment when he was so entertained he joined the two of you. For hours as Soap and you giggled, Price took the job seriously, dusting off sand, a smile on him, "I found it!" the missing bone to the dino Soap and you called 'stuffin'.

From a scope, Ghost and Gaz watched you three 'train' telling jokes and taking pictures. "Old man desperately needed that." Ghost comments. "Bet they go for ice cream after this," Gaz adds.

"Yeah." a sad sigh from both of the men followed along.

"Want to join them?" they said at the same time.

Price ended up buying a bigger sandbox because this time, his whole team would be digging up some stuff on a mission. His children, you being the favourite and Soap competing for that title win.

A tall child crying as they sat in their bed, looking back at the old photos of a 6-year-old. Now they can look back and think, 'Maybe I was raised to be an adult because I'd find a family who would let me be that child who is now let out of the shadows.' This is the life you earned after suffering for years, watching people die, and losing so much. Now that life you dreamed of, is there.

Life, what a mystical word.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod 141 #ghost cod #mw2 141 #task force 141 #mwii #141 x reader #141 #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod price #cod soap #cod imagine #cod fanfic #call of duty mw2 #cod mw soap #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #modern warfare #gaz my beloved #gaz imagine #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #ghost hc #ghost call of duty #captain john price

[slutforsnow]

I swear im trying for chapter 6 of The Blue Note 😔 My fyp isnt giving more astv edits 🥲 anyways, to feed the twilight community im here to offer

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✨️A JASPER X OC FIC✨️

A Cowboy's Dream

Character info:

Name: Eliana (el-e-anna) Smith

Nicknames: Eli (El-e), Ana, Silly, Star Girl

Insults: Accident, Freak, Weirdo, r-slur

Age: 17

Birthday: April 6th

Blood type: O-

Mental illness/disorder: Autism

Sexuality: Omnisexual

Gender: Female she/her

Backstory: Eliana was born in with a semi-normal family. She had a father, Michael, and a mother, Terra. When Eli had turned about 6 months old when Michael realized he was gay and wanted a divorce. Terra went along with it, as she was a closeted lesbian. She couldn't stand being in a marriage with a man, so once the divorce was finalized, Michael and Terra stayed friends but went to live on their lives. Terra kept Eliana, as Michael wasn't sure that traveling in a van would be safe for a 6 month old, and met her later wife -Vanessa- when Ana was 3. They got married on Eli's birthday, with her permission of course, and have given Eliana the world and more that a girl could ask for while living in Forks, Washington. Michael comes to visit Eliana for special days just whenever she wants to see him because Terra and Vanessa decided that it'd be good for her to have connection to her father, despite calling him "Uncle Mike." Eliana was diagnosed with autism at 7 years old after she had a meltdown about having to sleep on silk sheets in a hotel that the 3 women were staying at for a trip.

She's lived in Forks her entire life and doesn't mind the quietness or rain because at night, when the rain clears, she see the stars and often draws pictures out whatever shape(s) she sees in them.

START NOTE: IM AUTISTIC AND CAN RECLAIM THE R SLUR. I WILL AVOID USING IT AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE SO IT MAY ONLY POP UP 1 OR 2 TIMES. If people are uncomfortable, I'll remove the slur from the story entirely <3

First Meeting

"Do I not look Italian-?" Eli asked, laughing as Mike was in shock learning the autistic member of the group was Italian.

"No, you look white-!! Like, white white." Mike protested as Eliana walked with Bella to her truck.

"Bye bye, Mikey~!" She called as Bella shook her head and ruffled Eliana's dual colored hair.

"So, I'm guessing you and Mikey are close?" Bella questioned as Eliana moved closer to her to avoid bumping into the Cullens.

"Eehhhh, if you wanna call teasing each other like siblings close because you're both only children then yes...? Besides, we grew up neighbors, so we see each other every day and let me tell you- being surrounded by loud neurotypicals hurts like hell."

"Really?" Bella looked up at Eliana as the smaller female sat on the hood of the car. "I thought they were ok- a bit better than the people back in Arizona."

"Ehhh, depends on the person. Since I'm autistic, and I don't speak for every autistic person, I have sensory issues meaning I can't handle super loud crowds or friend groups. But they were my only friends, so I sucked it up as best as I could and dealt with it. You, however, aren't autistic and don't really mix with the loud crowd and tend to avoid them as much as possible," Eliana explained pulling a marker out of her patch-filled messenger bag and started to draw stars along her left arm.

"Oh.. that makes sense, yeah," Bella replied after a moment, watching Eliana draw on herself. Throughout the day, Bella noted that Eli would do this whenever a certain blonde was around. According to Jessica, Eliana has had a thing for one of the mysterious Cullens- Jasper. Yet, he was seemingly taken by Alice. It hurt Eliana, so she took to drawing on herself to avoiding staring at him and causing drama.

Yet, every so often, Jasper would catch himself staring at her and he looked away, attempting, and failing, to not be caught.

The reason why the pair did this was because Jasper saved her life exactly 3 years ago today.

"Are you serious dude? The Freak?" A student inquired, laughing his ass off as Eli walked passed, clutching her books and not noticing the 5 squares of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her shirt.

"Yeah! I mean, besides, it's not like anyone's going to stand up for the retard and won't it be awesome to humiliate it in front of the whole school?" The student's friend spoke up, grinning and seeing Eliana walk to class faster to avoid being seen crying out of distress.

Later that day, Eli had forgotten all about the worry of being humiliated. She felt safe and at peace. Besides, she had gotten to talk to one of her more mysterious classmates, Rosalie, today and she promised to help Eli get a good hair-do that would make her feel happy.

Life felt perfect and completely worry-free... until one of her bullies kicked her in the back and caused her to trip down the stairs of the building and fall into the wet pavement.

She groaned, rolling onto her side and hugging her ribs as blood ran down her face from her nose and her head spun in dizziness. She was in so much pain that she didn't process a car come barreling down to her until she heard a large crash and a familiar voice yell.

Two sets of hands pulled her up, eliciting a cry of pain from the younger as pressure was put onto her right foot. One of the 'strangers' whom had helped her up, scooped her up bridal style as she began to fall in and out of consciousness.

After a few hours had gone by, Eliana woke up, groaning.

"Ah, I see you're awake, Eliana. You gave us a scare there," a gentle and friendly voice said earning a tiny smile from the teen.

"Hi, Dr. Carlisle..." She groaned out, putting a hand to her head and flinching in the process.

"Hi, dear," he greeted, sympathetically and gently running his hand through her long bright blonde hair. The doctor cared deeply for her and she loved him like he was her dad. "Can you tell me what happened this time?"

"I- uhmmm... I don't think I remember a lot of it..." She told him, honestly and shrugging a tad. Carlisle merely smiled reassuringly.

"It's alright, you don't have to try and remember all of it now, but would you be able to give me a gist of what happened?" He questioned, sitting in one of the rolly stools while checking her heartbeat.

"Uhmm... I think I tripped down the stairs... and then hit my head really hard, but I don't remember anything after that," She told him, trying to focus on the light he was using to check her eyes.

"You tripped? Eli... these injuries don't typically come from tripping down the stairs- accident prone or not," Carlisle started, looking at her and she moved her gaze to her hands. "Are you sure someone didn't kick you down the stairs or anything?"

Eliana tensed and stayed quiet. She didn't want the senior to get in trouble, but her silence did confirm that someone did kick her down the stairs.

"Eli..? Come on, you can't stay quiet for this, honey. Jasper and Rosalie already told Chief Swan everything that they know and he's waiting to talk to you downstairs, as he's wanting to know if your mothers will press charges against whomever hurt you and, apparently, tried to run you over."

"He's gonna kill me if I say anything though..." Eli buried her face into her knee that she could move and groaned audibly.

"But he also could be behind bars. Freedom from him, Eliana, wouldn't that be nice?" Ana paused for a moment and nodded a bit, earning a kind smile from Carlisle.

However, before Carlisle could continue, one of the Cullens entered the room with Eliana's stuff. This one must've been Jasper, due to the fancy shirt he wore and his wavy/curly blonde locks were pushed out of his face that as Rosalie had described.

"Ah, Jasper, here with Eliana's things. Thank you, son," He said as Jasper sat her bag by her shoes and nodded, then went to leave, not making eye contact with either.

"Hey, Jasper-?.. uhm... Thanks.. to you and the other person who helped," Eliana called. Jasper had froze at the door when she called his name. He'd never heard it said so... kindly and softly before. There was no sound of reassurance or manipulation behind it- just pure gratitude and the blonde could sense that from her, even without his power.

Partially turning to face her, he smiled at her kindly.

"You're welcome, ma'am. I'm just glad to see you're not bleedin too bad," He said to her, with his Southern accent coming out before leaving the room. This left Carlisle chuckling softly at his son for sneaking in a thank-you to her for not causing him to go feral and Eliana completely in love with him.

#jasper hale #major jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock hale #jasper whitlock #jasper twilight #jasper cullen #canon x oc #twilight fanfiction #twilight x oc #fanfiction #twilight saga #eventual smut #vampire boy #confederate soldier #major #parental carlisle

[jonmyblaze]

Demons cats DC idea

Or in other words

how Talia Al ghul decided seduce and bribe Selina Kyle into raising Damian along side her daughter Helena Kyle, and that plan working a little too well

Following the death of her father at the hands of the mercenary slate Wilson (being paid by an unknown source presumably) Talia was in a bit of a bind, her State as heir apparent and first in line for the head of the League of assassins was tenuous at best.

And without her father she had only one passage of legitimacy until her son became of age (because no Daddy decided not to allow women to be heads of secret societies of assassins that would be too absurd no. )

So she needs to ensure that her son was safe while she conquered the splintering cells of the League of shadows that were held together by her father through force of will and duct tape. Her choice of who to raise her precious son was simple.

Selina Kyle the incorrigible cat themed femme feline fatale from Gotham.

Her plan was obvious and simple,

should there ever be an occasion where her son had to join up with His father and his family, then poor Damien being well familiar with his Half sister would be the perfect in.

if he were to develop some protective big brother senses all the better in talia's eyes. All the better for her beloved as well, seeing as this would be a child that won't want to kill or harm one of his many adopted children.

This plan would also allow for Damien to receive some much-needed social skills, seeing as her precious 8-year-old assassin didn't have that many friends his age

Her offer to Ms Selina Kyle was simple, enough money from the League of assassins that she would never have to work a day in her life and could afford to put both of the kids ineven the most prestigious of schools and still never have to work again.

That was what it was supposed to be.

Talia was never expecting to sleep with a woman so maddingly gorgeous in leather, so refined in her physique and wondrous in bed,

And skilled as any woman should be with a blade , able to knock off even the likes of Talias off of her own heels.

it was a perfect benefit that she never foreseen. Far better than the orgy of eclectic men and women that Talia was used to. She was so refined in her tastes kind in her abilities and so gifting in bed. With so many loving scratch marks it was perfect for her.

Perhaps one day she and her beloved could rearrange their relationship with this seductress of a third in mind, after all Ménage à trois is far better than a dynamic duo.

-----------

For Selina the arrangement was easy, (well as easy as being a parent with one child in assassin raised all his life and now pacifying him enough that he won't kill needlessly,

A child who was only 6 years older than her own daughter, (born 9 months after Bruce's spine replacement for the bane incident in nightfall.)

There was a few hiccups

----------------

Lord help Batman for he will not be able to fight against two bisexual mothers who wish the best for their kids, even if it means a bit of light murder

#selina kyle #catwoman #Selina #Kyle #dc #damian al ghul #damian wayne #bruce x talia #batcat #bruce wayne #batman #Helena Kyle #helena wayne

[lyranova]

2, 6, 12, 13, 22, 26, 33 and 47 for YamiChar, please?

Hiya anon! Of course and I’m sorry this took a while, but I hope you enjoy 🥰!

2. Who wakes up early/Who sleeps in late?

Charlotte wakes up early. Yami sleeps in late. That’s just how the two have always been I think 😆, but I do get the sense that sometimes they kind of flip and Yami will wake up early while Charlotte sleeps in late or sometimes they’ll both fall into the same schedule 😁. But usually the two stick to their routine!

6. How do they make up/apologize after an argument?

I feel like the two just bluntly apologize to each other. I don’t really see either one beating around the bush or dragging it out, once they realize they were in the wrong or that they misunderstood they usually just come out and apologize. Although sometimes they’ll butter each other up and give gifts or hugs as “peace offerings” but that’s about it 😆!

12. Do they have a difficult time when separated from each other, or are they fairly independent?

I feel like they’re both fairly independent, even after they get married. But I feel like the longer they’re together, or the longer apart they are, they begin to have a difficult time. They begin to miss each other and begin to wonder what they’re doing while the other is away.

13. How do they keep in contact when they’re apart? Do they write letters, talk on the phone, or simply wait out the time?

I think they do a combination of all three tbh 😆! I feel like if they’re only going to be gone a day or two they’ll just wait out the time, if they’re gone for a couple of weeks they’ll use Magical Communication devices, but they’re gone for much longer they’ll use letters in combination with the Communication devices!

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

I think they are! Yami is a lot more comfortable with being silly/playful and joking around then Charlotte is tho 😆! He did it before they started dating, and will do it for many years after! While Charlotte begins getting more comfortable with it after the two have been together for a while, which makes Yami very happy!

26. What sacrifices do they make for the other?

Charlotte’s sacrifice was her Captain’s robe. Of course she didn’t give it up just solely for Yami, she gave it up a because the two had their children. Although it wasn’t for many years, she began slowly giving up certain duties to her VC after their first child was born until eventually she felt comfortable enough letting it go completely.

Yami’s sacrifice was his cigarettes. He began giving them up gradually after he and Charlotte got together, and he finally went cold turkey after his first child was born. He said he wanted to live long enough to see his kids get married and start their own lives, and he wanted to be able to grow old alongside Charlotte.

So they both gave up things that were important to each other!

33. How do they flirt? Who’s the worse flirt?

Charlotte is the worst flirt out of the two, although Yami isn’t much better imo 😅! I feel like Yami is the unintentional flirt, he says something that, in his mind, is normal, friendly, and honest. But his words can actually be taken as flirting too 😆. When he’s actually flirting tho he’s quite awkward and kind of stumbles over his words because he’s unsure. While Charlotte’s flirting she’s also very awkward and unsure, but when she’s drunk I feel like she’s a better flirt because she isn’t being cautious of what she’s saying and is actually speaking her mind and is telling Yami how she feels.

So when both flirt intentionally, they’re very awkard and unsure, but when it’s unintentional? They’re both actually pretty good at it!

47. Do they sleep beside each other? Why or why not?

I do think they sleep beside each other, I feel like it was a bit awkward at first but the two got used to it very quickly! I feel like the reason the two sleep beside each other is for safety and security.

They feel safe and secure when they’re beside each other, they feel the stress of the day melt away as they lay beside one another and hold each other in their arms. So it’s become a comfort to YamiChar imo!

#asks #anon🌟 #ship ask game #yamichar #yami x charlotte #charlotte x yami #yami sukehiro #sukehiro yami #charlotte roselei #thanks for asking 💕!

[firegoddess96]

Sweet Temptations

Summary: All her life Y/n had smelt nothing but blood, determined to ease the suffering of her soulmate she vowed to only surround herself with sweet scents. But what happens when a sexy thick thighed Space Viking walks through her door? 

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Soulmate AU, some body shaming, talk of grief. 

Y/n had lived her whole life smelling scents that weren’t around her. She always thought she was crazy, or something was physically wrong with her, that was until the day her mother told her about soulmates. Everyone had a soulmate, and they were connected by one of the 6 senses, her parents had been connected by sight, so they had found each other relatively easy.

Others aren’t so lucky and get taste or, like you, smell. How were you supposed to find your other half on smell alone? Most scents were normal, soaps and clean laundry and sometimes the smell of the outdoors, like grass and flowers. The smell that worried you the most was the metallic sting of blood.

This was the most common smell, it scared you to think that your soulmate could be hurt, or that they had to see the level of violence that would cause such a strong smell of copper. You decided that you would only give them sweet smells, scents to comfort them and make them feel safe.

Years later, you were keeping that promise you made to yourself. Sweet Temptations was 7 successful years into business, despite the snap being done 6 years ago and then undone just last year, your business had never suffered. Here you were, the best pastry chef in Queens, and the staple baker for none other than the Avengers themselves.

You had gotten to know Nat after the snap, she had been grieving and needed some serious sugar therapy, and she deemed that both your pastries and your friendship were the cure. Now that everyone she had lost was back, they all were addicted to you too. You’d only met a few members of the team besides Nat, including Wanda, Tony, and Steve all of whom you had seen in person. Bruce only ever ordered over the phone, Nat told me he’s kind of a hermit, but he made her happy and seemed sweet.

Nat was the only one that knew your secret, no one else knew about the link with your soulmate. They thought you just loved to bake, and in a way you did now. But it took years for your choice to become a passion. One that hopefully one day would pay off. For the last handful of years, you’d had the stench of stale beer and old pizza wafting into your nose, over the last few months it was being replaced with much more pleasant scents like clean laundry and soap. You just worried about what would make them so upset to drown themselves in beer and carbs every day for 6 years.

Thor had been struggling with his depression and survivors guilty now that most of his made family had been returned to him. He actively had been trying to better himself and get back the once confident god. No videogames, no drinking and most importantly therapy, to recover from his grief and forgive himself.

Thor left his latest session to see a message from Lady Natasha, asking him to pick up her pastry order. Normally he would have made an excuse to avoid such a temptation, but he had a confidence boost from his session. Most people would believe that his vice was drinking, but they would be very wrong, with the constant scent of fresh pastries and sweets constantly floating around him he had the biggest sweet tooth on Midgard. It was all thanks to his soulmate, whoever they were, for the persistent raging battle of wills.

This errand for Natasha was to be his true test, he vowed to not sample any of the delicious morsels that this shop had to offer. He was a god of his word, and he would win this mental battle. The entire walk there he believed that this was true, until he walked in and saw the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, serving said delicacies.

Her smile lit up the room, her cheekbones lifting higher making her round face even more round. Warm y/e/c eyes shifted their focus to him as she called him by name.

“Thor, right? You’re here for Nat’s order?” Sweet voice like honey in his ears. So lost in her that he stayed silent just staring. Politely she didn’t mention his odd behavior and simply wrote a note and attached it to the box of pastries she handed over.

“Here you are handsome! Tell Nat hi for me, ok?” She winked at him. A blush rose on his cheeks at her comment. How could she think he was handsome, surely, she was jesting? He once had been handsome but now he was much heavier and less muscular. He avoided looking in mirrors and just started wearing clothing other than sweatpants last week. She had to be acting nice because she was Natasha’s friend, she couldn’t really mean what she had said.

The walk back to the compound went quickly as he mentally spiraled with negative thoughts about his body. As he walked into the living room of their communal floor the team swarmed him for their treats only to freeze in place at the look on his face.

“You wanna talk about it bud?” Bucky asked, having gone through his own mental hurdles he knew not to press too much and demand answers. And the look on Thor’s face showed that currently those mental demons were kicking his ass.

“Therapy went well, I was quite confident and feeling more like my old self. But then I saw this beautiful woman and she called me handsome, but she must have been joking. I just kind of spiraled.” Thor laughed awkwardly to make light of his pain.

“Hey Pointbreak, this woman happen to be curvy, with a smile like sunshine and y/h/c hair?” Tony asked him, startled Thor nodded in confirmation.

“She meant it big guy, says so right here.” He pulls out a note card with Y/n’s name and number that says “If talking isn’t your thing, maybe texting me will be easier” with a heart and a wink.

Nat hid smiling in the corner her plan working perfectly, while Thor was recovering back at home, post un-snap, he told her of his soulmate connection and the tempting smells of sweet sugary treats. She had her suspicions, so she started ordering more treats for the team from her baking bestie, to see if they were the ones. He never reacted to the scents until he could see them, commenting on how he had been craving just that. It had all made sense, his sweet addiction, and her constant smell of coppery blood. The baker and the Space Viking God, who would have known?

Finally, months later, she had set the trap. But this big blonde idiot was too dumbstruck by your delicious curves to see the big picture. It all replied of you now, and Nat hoped that was enough.

When Thor had stepped through the door of your shop you had known right away that he was your soulmate. For once you could smell your own creations as you were surrounded by them. For the last few months, you had been smelling sweets after your opened for the day. You had figured out that it was a customer of your shop, but it wasn’t someone who came in themselves. But never in a million years did you think that the hunky god of thunder thighs would be your other half. Damn, he was yummier than any pastry you could ever make.

He was HOT, long blonde hair you could grab onto, dark trimmed beard over strong jaw, and lonely blue you could drown in. And his new belly? Perfect! He was now as cuddly as he was sexy, you usually went for the bigger guys, guys who wouldn’t judge you for your curves but love and embrace them, so why wouldn’t you embrace him for all of his?

You took the shot to reach out, giving a guy your number and being forward wasn’t really your thing, but you refused to be the reason you missed out on your soulmate. Now to pray and hope he’s the type of God that answers prayers.

Y/n’s phone rings with an unknown caller ID.

“Hello, is this Y/N?” His deep voice resonates over the speaker.

“It is, and is this my Space Viking Soulmate? Nice to hear your voice Handsome.”

#thickthor #thickthor x reader #thor x y/n #thor x plus size reader #thor x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x plus size reader

[scalamore]

(Spoiler) TL1 Debutante

In the prologue chapters, Lari described that she might have been cute as a child, wearing ribbons, flower decorations, and girlish accessories (like now actually), when her hair got long and she became an adult, she stopped all that to act the role of a proper noble lady from House Belois. As an adult, she considered herself the furthest away from a pretty person - she had unremarkable features with pale, washed out light brown hair and eyes (compared to the rich dark brown characteristic of House Belois), and constantly had a serious expression on her face, and held proper posture at all times. Her expressions were easily displayed on her face, and thus her irritable nature was obvious for everyone to see. Under the watchful eye of her father, she never wore accessories and only dressed herself up simply with plain brown/dark colored dresses. Thus, Lari considered herself unremarkable in EVERY aspect: intelligence, beauty, character, appearance, fashion, even facial expressions.

It didn't help that at 15, she expected a lot of marriage proposals to start coming in for her, but they never did, even when she was 18, she never had a proper offer of marriage. It didn't make sense - as a daughter of a Count, just by having a title should make her desirable, even if she's not pretty or have a good personality, right? Even so, she was VERY excited for her debutante at 16 years old alongside Riche. This will be her first visit to the palace, and she can meet all the Capital Nobles - she was so excited at this opportunity! Her father didn't want to sponsor her, so she asked Aunt Amelia to because she had no one else to ask, and SHE REALLY WANTED TO DEBUT! Unfortunately, Aunt Amelia showed her the same care and consideration as in TL2 - which is she didn't care about Lari at all. She may have sponsored Lari under "House Belois", but it was utterly a disaster. Lari didn't know what it took to prepare for her own social debut, she didn't know the proper attire for it, she's never been to a ball before.. and thus.. the results were extremely disastrous. She was one of the main characters as a girl who debuted that day, but she appeared in one of her regular brown dresses - she even considered it shabby and worn out compared to the others - and she felt the sympathetic gazes of the girls and many ridiculing comments from others. She was left as a lonely wallflower who didn't socialize and dance with anyone, and no one offered to dance with her. It was utterly embarrassing. One person, Crown Prince Rupert, had introduced himself to her (Ch 6), and she was excited - but - she later realized he had known who she was, and just wanted to meet "Lariette of House Belois", and not "Lariette who just turned of age today". Even the Crown Prince had no interest in her as a person.

When she came back home from the TL1 debutante, it was VERY damaging to her self-esteem. She was convinced that no one would ever love her, she's failed as a lady of House Belois because she could never get married and have her own family. Even though she enjoyed reading romance novels, she concluded that it wouldn’t ever happen to her, and she didn’t want to dream of it anymore :(. But at least she has her beloved family who can take care of her, and she'll always be under her father's careful supervision to make sure she's safe, so that's ok, right?

In TL2, we see the trauma persisting - she didn’t bat an eye when Rupert called her fat/ugly at the start (because she really thought she was), she didn’t question it when he said she looked dumb so she was great for spying on the merchants (while he actually thought she would be a good choice because she was cute and the merchants would lower their guard around her).

During Rupert's crown Prince coronation event in Ch 76, Lari is very confident that no one will ask her to dance, and was fine with being in the background and not joining in the festivities. During the debutante arc starting in Ch 99, Lari's repeatedly said that she doesn't want one, she's scared of participating in it this year... and it gets to the point where Elaine and Rupert have to convince her to participate (they've been at it for 3 months!). She denied having House Belois and Aunt Amelia help out (they didn't offer anways), but she couldn't say no when Rupert himself offered to sponsor her. She finally opens up and admits to Rupert in the library that she's scared to attend, because what if no one invites her to dance? then it'll be a super embarrassing, shameful memory. But of course, Rupert tells her that if that happens, then she'll just have to dance with him then. ;)

#your majesty please spare me this time #rupelali #manhwa #rofan #otome isekai

[hellobunny044]

Panels. | Series

panel. in manga art, panels refers to the frame that wraps around one moment in time.

********************************************************

an original Haikyu AU pairing Udai Tenma (the og little giant

warning!!: containing some manga content.

word count: 6937

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Panel - 6

Tokyo, Present Day

A coincidence to be thanked for... or is it more to be cursed at? Along the way, Udai only thought about that.

It was not that he regretted that of all the things that could have happened to him he had to meet Tsubasa. It was precisely because it was Tsubasa of all people that Udai wavered between cursing or thanking this coincidence. Really, of all the things that could have happened, why did it have to be another encounter with her? Of all people, why her?

But even so, there he was, and ended up following Tsubasa in her lunch.

When she asked about lunch, Udai honestly said that he had already had his lunch. But even after that, Tsubasa still asked him to join her. She said it was to repay him for the other day.

What made Udai so pissed off about it, was that he didn’t refuse the offer at all. A part of him was reluctant to leave, greedy to grasp this opportunity, greedy that he would have time to be with her again even if it was just to be there.

Time is cruel.

So is the fate.

In this panel, fate, in all its cruelty, has drawn little lines to bring to life a new story between him and Tsubasa, the last thing he wanted to happen.

Of all things, does he, who once deliberately walked away from the panel where they used to be connected, deserve to be here?

Even if fate eventually let Tsubasa decide, Udai hoped that this time, she would be the one to walk away.

But...

Damn. Even nine years couldn’t change anything about how comfortably warm it was when he was around her. It felt safe, soothing. Cruel.

“Udai-san, you will order dessert, right?”

Udai only answers with a hum.

“The Hokkaido cheesecake here is famous for being very good. How about that? Is that enough?”

And another.

The glimpse of what he was looking at was his first love. Sasaki Tsubasa, whom he remembered as the girl who completed the story of each panel in his youth with her presence. She was the one who brought an unforgettable blush of pink into the panels of his youth that had been dulled with dreary, static colors.

Sasaki Tsubasa, who nine years ago looked like a typical high schooler, now looks like a well-developed adult woman. She was beautiful, seemed competent in her work that he forgot to ask before. Then like any other mature woman, she wore just enough makeup with colors that only added to her beauty like magic, high heels that had a unique beat every time she walked. In truth, the high school girl of his first love had completely disappeared from what he could catch of her. But from her eyes, her voice, the atmosphere she brought with her, it was all Sasaki Tsubasa, his first love.

Sitting before her, it was like waiting for a big wave that carried all the memories of his youth to wash him away. The very first encounter, the confession, the first date, the first kiss, all the things that Udai first tasted in a dozen years of being a whole human being, were spent with Tsubasa. It was also about the first big mistake he made, the first regret, the first heartbreak. This very woman before him had it all packed with her.

Facing her, Udai felt helpless amidst the rushing of emotion that filled all his senses.

He shouldn’t have come back, he repeated mentally many times.

He doesn’t deserve to come back, he repeated.

“Udai-san wa—”

His reverie was over and the world returned to what was before him.

“— are you going to be quiet-for-some-time-before-you-finally-speak too this time?”

Her eyes were on him, looking at him kindly. Still like the old days, she still feels so near, really. Udai almost forgot that she was waiting for her answer.

“Are you really okay with the dessert we ordered earlier?”

“Hm?”

“You just answered it so casually when I told you the menu… like you somehow didn’t even mean answering the question. It made me think that maybe I was too pushy that you didn’t have time to decide or even consider.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Finally, Tsubasa was convinced and stopped.

“Okay then.”

Udai actually wasn’t so sure that he was good enough at small talk. However, Tsubasa had insinuated it. Throwing a sign that he should talk. At the very least, asking something about the weather perhaps?

“It’s pretty sunny today, don’t you think?”

He was stupid.

Tsubasa’s gaze still trapped him, leading him further into the abyss of awkwardness. For real, what’s the point of saying clichéd things about the weather? What century is this?

To his surprise, a smile spread across Tsubasa’s face. Amusing. This time, it was Tsubasa who had the nerve to answer. Then she looked out the window to make sure.

“Sunny and hot,” she added.

They were seated at a table in a row near the transparent window that gave them closer access to the streets surrounding the restaurant.

Udai caught a faint smile that she rolled back before Tsubasa turned back to him. “But the summer is coming to an end.”

That smile was different from what he saw after she returned. Maybe it was just in his head, but there was something there that he shouldn’t have caught.

“You’re still so picky about the seasons?”

Tsubasa’s question was followed by a huffing laugh. Amusing. Like mocking, but a little more polite than that.

“I thought, as years passed, you might have matured a bit.”

Simply put, Udai did not like summer very much. The only thing he liked about summer was that during that time, they would get a holiday. And Tsubasa remembered that. Oh, he forgot to add one thing. Eight years ago, he loved his summer and everything that revolved around it.

“Well... summer is… hot.”

Tsubasa stormed off after that, “That goes without saying! Where is there a cold summer?”

There is. Sometime during the summer of eight years ago, when you were there. At least, even though it wasn’t cold, with you around, things became a little more refreshing. “Right.”

Tsubasa sighed, her smile staying. Amused at the fact that Udai still didn’t get along with summer. Deep down inside however, in a part of him that he was trying to avoid, Udai wished that the reason her smile still remained was because he was still the same.

“What about you, Sasaki?”

In the past, he could just casually call her given name. Tsubasa.

Now... well... It’s the little things like this that give connection its essence. That, one day when you’re parting ways, you’ll go back to the time when everything was back to scratch, and that all the time that was drained away back then, can never come back no matter how desperately you reach for it. That, from the pain it brings when you look back, will make you realize that in the future where you stand, it will never again involve the person you used to always involve in the first place.

In the panel where her world evolved, Tsubasa no longer involves Udai like she used to. And Udai, in a different panel where his world runs, had long ago deliberately closed off the path to involving her as well.

It was all his fault, he knew. Just like he knew that Tsubasa liked summer, unlike him.

“Do you still like summer?”

“Sure.” Her answer came smoothly without losing a single beat. Her smile was still, her gaze steady.

In contrast to Udai, Tsubasa loved the summer. Udai still remembered why. She liked summer because the days would last longer than in the other seasons, the sky would look bluer, brighter than usual, and she said, the scent of the earth would be more sniffable — that was surely an odd one. Udai couldn’t remember if he had any memory of Tsubasa being so melancholy about such things, but she did.

Udai also remembers the winter being her least favorite season. The reason was simple: it was cold. Well... you don’t get warm winters anywhere in the world. He still remembered about Tsubasa who didn’t like her hands getting cold, didn’t like padding, and especially about her always losing her hot pack almost every five minutes. Seriously, though. Udai had to stop thinking before he fell into a forbidden desire and said something nonsense.

Soon after that he changed the subject. This time, however, he started over quite nicely.

“You work around here?”

He didn’t know if it was just in his mind, but for a moment, Tsubasa looked lost. Her answer was also a little off, a nod. However, she soon smiled. An answer followed shortly after,“Yes.”

Udai nodded his head. “Close around?”

“Ten minutes by walking.”

“Oh?”

“I often have lunch here.”

Exactly what she wanted to ask.

“Are you stopping by the Weekly Shonen office?” Tsubasa asked back.

“Oh? Yes.” Udai nodded.

Humming, Tsubasa added a new question, “Dropping off the latest volume’s manuscript?” She quickly continued after that, “Or perhaps something else?”

“The first one. Yes. I have a little business related to manuscripts and publishing.”

Tsubasa responded with a hum while nodding slightly.

Seconds rolled by, slowly but surely. Between them, silence slowly settled in. However, Udai did not let it linger too long as he continued their little question and answer session.

“Are you on your lunch break?”

Stupid. Of course She is. What do you think she was doing here?

“As you can see,” Tsubasa smiled as she replied. “I guess you’re not too familiar with the strict schedules and rules of office workers like me.”

“Hm?”

Tsubasa chuckled, “You work and rest on your own accord, right? Even if for example you’re in a high demand zone this month, and the sketching of the latest volume of your manga is only given a month or two, you still have a higher level of flexibility in your working hours. You don’t have to deal with anything about long and hectic working hours or relatively little break time. You can rest all day or work all night to your heart’s content—”

Udai raised his eyebrows when Tsubasa suddenly stopped midway.

“Ah? Sorry! I didn’t mean to say anything about your work. I’ve talked too much.”

Confused, Udai quickly searched for something to say in response. “U-uh? No. It’s alright. It’s not that you said anything disrespectful about my work here.”

“I said everything as if I understood everything.” Tsubasa sighed, almost wincing. “Sorry for being rude.”

“Hm. No problem.”

The atmosphere returned to silence. The awkwardness returned between them. After seconds spent wondering what to talk to Tsubasa about next, the atmosphere was thawed by something Tsubasa said.

“You... haven’t asked about my work, Udai-san.”

“Huh?”

He remembered that he had never asked her anything about her work. But it wasn’t because he forgot or didn’t want to know about it, but rather realized that it was something too silly to ask, not to mention rude.

Udai wanted to know about her job like how she knew that he was a manga artist from one of the best-selling manga series. He wanted to know what office work she was referring to, like how she knew that if he came to the Weekly Shonen office, it meant that he had some business related to manuscripts and publishing. He wanted to know what time she worked and what time she would end, like how she knew that he had much more flexible working hours than she did. He wanted to know all that, so he was showered with guilt for being too inquisitive.

What was more surprising, however, was that Tsubasa suggested that he ask. It was as if she was giving him a way to satisfy all the questions piling up in his head.

“O-oh... well... Um... Yeah.”

“You should have asked that from the start. There was no need to be reluctant.”

Tsubasa paused, chuckling slightly, “Your face says it all.”

Everything? Even about the way I was overwhelmed when you were there and smiling like that, Tsubasa? Lie to me, please lie to me. Don’t let my hopes grow bigger for something I shouldn’t wish for. This is a catastrophe, especially for Tsubasa. Of all the people she should not have invited into her world, Udai should have been the first one she should have avoided. Of all the people who didn’t deserve half of her time, it was Udai who had the opportunity to sit with her today. He should really stop. You should stop before I break your heart again.

Their talk was interrupted by the lunch that had joined them on the table. For a moment, their worlds were distracted by the smell of the menu. Tsubasa ordered the main course, while Udai got the dessert that Tsubasa recommended. The Hokkaido Cheesecake.

For a moment, he wondered if all stores that served this menu really baked the cheesecake in a water bath or if there was another way to replace that process while maintaining the quality of the taste?

It was a silly pondering that would lead him nowhere. Not to find new inspiration for his manga, nor to take him away from the awkwardness that clung in between to fill the space between him and Tsubasa.

“Have a good meal!”

“Have… a… good meal.”

Really, everything was still the same.

The way she enjoyed her food, her little habits, everything seemed to be something pulled from every shard of his memory of her.

“Too bad you already had lunch before,” Tsubasa said between pauses, drawing Udai’s gaze back to her, “otherwise, you could try this menu for lunch. They sell this very well every day. It’s very delicious.”

But perhaps, Udai would prefer it this way.

“Next time, I guess,” Tsubasa said, not quietly and not reluctantly. But Udai didn’t miss how her fingers gripped the spoon a little tighter. Her smile came, a friendly greeting before what she was about to say followed. “You can invite someone to come here and make sure to order this.”

Subconsciously, Udai chuckled. “If I had time for something like that.”

Catching a gyoza with her chopsticks, Tsubasa muttered, “Right?”

Then, Tsubasa continued, “But you know... rather than about having or not having time, you can spare a little of your time, right?”

Udai stopped. No, the world stopped. Or, no, he stopped. His gaze was fixed on Tsubasa who slowly widened her eyes. Just as Udai was stunned by her words, it was either he was delusional or, Tsubasa looked more surprised than anyone else.

“Ah- I didn’t mean to—”

“No—”

“Really, I’m really sorry.”

There you go. Sasaki Tsubasa was still Sasaki Tsubasa at the end of the day. She looked down, her palms closing in front of her furrowed brow.

“It’s alright.”

Tsubasa sighed and immediately raised her head. “The weather must have made me think of all sorts of things. Again, sorry for being presumptuous.”

“Hm. It doesn’t matter. After all, some of what you said is true. But in my case, not only do I have no time, I also don’t have a special person that I have to set aside time for in particular.”

Udai did not know that she would say that much before she finally reached the end of her sentence.

“Oh?”

Yes, he was a freak.

Awkwardness crawled over every inch of his skin. Quickly wanting to get out of the awkward embrace before it clung even tighter, Udai racked his brain for something better to talk about. Staying there was not going to get him anywhere.

“Speaking of the work,” in a split-second pause, his brain spun faster to think of how to phrase the question a little more politely, “about your work…”

“Ah?”

Udai echoed Tsubasa’s nod, automatically following along as if it had been programmed.

“Ah, yes. I work for a startup company that specializes in IT,” Tsubasa then mentioned the name of the company.

“Ah? It’s that one, huh?”

“Right,” Tsubasa smiled.

“Ah, right. If I’m not mistaken, I saw the company building with their logo around here.”

“You know about our company?”

“Well… Yes, it was the talk of the town in the newspapers and on television.”

“Right?” Tsubasa’s smile expanded, sweet and pleasant.

Distracting himself from Tsubasa’s smile—as well as from the tightness in his chest—Udai quickly changed the subject, “How long have you been in Tokyo?”

“Almost three years.”

“Ah? Three years?”

Tsubasa hummed. “Um… Udai-san, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while,”

Udai paused, both eyebrows raised in anticipation of Tsubasa’s words, “Hm?”

“When I first met you…” Udai almost mistakenly thought Tsubasa was talking about the past if she didn’t immediately continue, “the other day on the mall, I barely recognized you.”

“Hm?”

“You know, your hair…”

Subconsciously, Udai immediately touched his hair when Tsubasa said that.

“They’re long,” Tsubasa continued, but now with a smile that followed right before she ended with, “very long.”

Suddenly, Udai was very worried about how he would look. Would he look like a beggar rather than the manga artist that he is, or would he look pathetic or weird with long hair. Tsubasa’s smile was sweet and pleasant, but it also brought out the nervousness in him. Was that pleasant smile really pleasant or pleasant in another sense…

Subconsciously, Udai had brought his hand to tidy up his hair a little. Nothing significant, just tucking the strands that almost covered his frame behind his ears.

He swore it was just a little, until he finally realized that he was paying too much attention to his appearance when, before him, Tsubasa was taking point about that. Something in her eyes quickly went away after he peeked there, quickly replaced with the sparkle of a pleasant smile that came as soon as she returned.

“I’ve noticed your hair since our first encounter,” Tsubasa continued, “but it seemed rude to say anything about it then. And I also wondered, even though summer is almost over, if you were okay with your hair being long— which of course you don’t have to think about.”

Tsubasa refocused on her lunch.

“Ah right, your friend the other day,”

Although of all the things he wanted to talk about, this was the last one, Udai had run out of topics.

Tsubasa looked back at him, a look of confusion.

“Your coworker,” Udai continued, followed by an understanding response from Tsubasa.

“Ah! Yes. Hatakeyama.” Tsubasa nodded, distractedly looking at Udai.

“You guys didn’t have lunch together?”

“No.” Tsubasa immediately followed with something that made Udai regret asking. “We usually have lunch together, but today he has some business with the deputy. It might take a while for him to join me.”

“Ah…”

Ten, no, a thousand times better if he didn’t ask.

“Hatakeyama,” Tsubasa continued, “he’s been at the company longer than I have. He had been working for almost a year when I joined. In a way, I’m basically his Kohai.”

Udai forced himself to smile, echoing Tsubasa’s smile that came afterward.

“Could it be because of that? Sometimes he really treats me like his subordinate and is all bossy, so annoying! Sometimes, he acts like a dictator too. But in his work, Hatakeyama is very reliable.” At the end of her sentence while expressing Hatakeyama, Tsubasa smiled. Udai knew that he had lost every right to feel uncomfortable when Tsubasa said something about another man, but it still felt unpleasant.

“Hatakeyama is truly a reliable Senpai—”

The world stopped right there.

Udai had noticed that before, about how in between the main course that she ordered were small pieces of octopus. He still remembered everything about Tsubasa, including that she had a severe octopus allergy. He also remembers that despite having a severe octopus allergy, Tsubasa sometimes forgets that she can’t eat octopus.

Now, she almost caught a small piece of octopus meat with her chopsticks. But with Udai there, who was quite thorough about it all, Tsubasa stopped.

Udai was holding her arm, gently gripping it to stop her.

“Octopus,” he muttered, “you... have allergy.”

“... hm?”

“You should have picked all the octopus aside before eating.”

For a moment, there was silence. Their hands were still touching each other. Only then, when Tsubasa said something, did Udai finally, immediately pull away, chest heavy.

“Oh? Octopus!”

Tsubasa’s gaze turned to her lunch. She sighed, “I almost got into big trouble,” she muttered, still inaudible, “you idiot!”

Then there was silence again. Udai and Tsubasa were both still working to process what was happening. Between the two of them, however, Udai was diligently outlining what had happened.

First, their hands touched at the most unexpected time. Her skin was soft and slightly moist, lotioned. Udai wondered if the scent of her lotion today would be the same as it was nine years ago—

Secondly, about the octopus that was always there while she was having her lunch like this, would Hatakeyama get rid of it all for her before she ate? He seemed to be so diligent to ruin his own mood.

Thirdly, it was either he was hallucinating or Tsubasa didn’t want to pull away. As his world came to a halt, he wondered if the same thing was happening to Tsubasa... or if she was really reluctant to break away—

“Udai-san,”

“Huh? A-ah, Yes?”

“Thank you for paying attention,”

It took Udai longer to take that one in. Her words were ambiguous.

“though I’m usually confident enough to eat by myself because I can handle things like this... well... maybe I forgot that I should have taken out all the octopus pieces first before eating.”

Udai only gave a short response.

“I’m surprised you could see that it was octopus.”

“Well... I just looked pretty well.”

“Is that so?”

“Well…”

“I thought you’d actually have problems with your eyesight because... you know what I mean... your job requires you to be awake in front of a computer for long periods of time— ah! But of course not always, right?”

“Hm. But you’re right about the staying-awake-in-front-of-the-computer-for-a-long-period-of-time part.”

“And?”

Udai shrugged, “Maybe... just not yet?”

Tsubasa frowned, her laughter following. Udai couldn’t help but smile, not when before him, Tsubasa was laughing so pleasantly.

“Please... are you really looking forward to when your eyesight gets bad because of your job?”

“Ah— of course not with the looking forward part. That would be a bit inconvenient.”

“Right?” Tsubasa sighed, “You always talk carelessly, Udai-san.”

Udai just laughed softly under his breath.

Tsubasa returned with a faint smile in her words after that, “I’m surprised you still remember.”

This meeting had been disastrous.

Udai’s smile faded. The amusing curve lost its glow, replaced with a pain laced with awkwardness.

“Thank you.”

Being there would not be good for him. If he stayed there, Udai would fall into a pit of hope. However, suddenly leaving would certainly not be polite. Perhaps, stepping away for a while would do.

“Hm.”

Udai mustered the courage—and honestly, the will—to excuse himself. “Excuse me a moment,” his hand awkwardly gestured in whatever direction was behind him, “I— the toilet.”

Tsubasa nodded. “Hm. You may go.” In fact, there was another smile after that.

********************************************************

By the time he reached the restroom, the roar of water rushing from the faucet couldn’t even distract Udai’s world from his fast-roaming mind processing everything that was happening.

Truly, this encounter was a catastrophe.

Udai had no intention of thinking of Tsubasa as a catastrophe in his terms, however, her being there right now threatened to make him greedy and of all things, that was the worst that could happen.

Has it been eight years? Since the last time he saw Tsubasa, since the last time their panels connected almost as if they were melting into each other. Since then, since the moment Udai had decided to be the first to walk away and move on to a new panel without taking his feelings for Tsubasa, it was over. As for the two of them, they had already lost.

Rather than keeping Sasaki Tsubasa who had been like the sun against his eternal winter, Udai decided to elevate his ego. He was too proud to turn back, to simply admit that he was wrong. Or... to admit that he couldn’t if she wasn’t around.

At times like this, when time seemed to stand still on his watch, Udai couldn’t help thinking that if only he had stopped that day... but, for now, it was too late.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, Udai returned to the flashing of memories that passed quickly.

“If I keep thinking back like this, and the same thing happens to her, what makes me think that she was alright?”

He had decided that his greed should not go beyond this. And at the very least, after this, he should apologize for everything and then disappear.

Udai washed his hands, washed his face and shifted his gaze to his reflection in the mirror. He was silent for a long time, wandering back to what Tsubasa had said earlier. Something about his long hair.

With his hands still wet, Udai smoothed his hair a little. At the very least, if he was prepared with a meaningless apology, he should at least try to look a little better, right?

********************************************************

Returning, Udai stopped at the end of a table when he saw a familiar man join Tsubasa. Hatakeyama Jiro.

Hatakeyama Jiro. Itachiyama High graduate. Tsubasa’s coworker who had been working for almost a year when Tsubasa joined the company. And lastly, Hatakeyama is a reliable Senpai, she said. Oh, that last one is very helpful.

From where he stood, Udai, who was watching the interaction between those two, underlined a few things about Hatakeyama Jiro from his perspective: Unlike him who came in with a t-shirt and disheveled hair, Hatakeyama Jiro was neat in a shirt and a fine necktie even though their blazers were both black. His hair was neat, showing the dignity of a senior office worker.

He looked like a very dependable man.

Although Tsubasa found him annoying at times, he was warm to her. From the last time, the way he spoke to Tsubasa showed how familiar he was in Tsubasa’s terms.

Tsubasa smiled happily at something he said, then their hands met for a playful high five. Not to mention afterwards their fingers intertwined to celebrate whatever it was. Maybe it was just as he thought.

For a moment, Udai thought about leaving. He thought, even if he left after that, Tsubasa would no longer look for him if her lover was right there. But... he didn’t want to leave.

Tsubasa was smiling.

Was he greedy if he wanted to be there to share that smile? Even if this was the last time, was he too greedy?

Udai finally had an excuse to come back because he forgot his bag. Hopefully that would be a reasonable excuse.

“Oh? It’s Tsubasa-no-Senpai-san!”

“Oh? Udai-san, You’re back?”

Hatakeyama Jiro’s voice was the first to greet him, then Tsubasa followed. Udai answered them both with a hum.

One other thing he also underlined was that they were sitting separately. At a time like this, he should be sitting on... Hatakeyama Jiro’s side, right?

“Sasaki, move aside.”

“Hm?”

“You have no manners, do you? Are you planning to let your Senpai stand there?”

“A-ah... O-oh... Okay.”

Udai knew that Tsubasa moving aside was a sign for him to join her there, but he just didn’t expect that even now, he would have to sit side by side with her. Seriously? He was even convinced to immediately exclude himself from this panel, convinced that he would be the disrupter of Tsubasa and Hatakeyama Jiro’s lunch.

What after this?

It was quiet after Udai sat down next to Tsubasa until he heard Hatakeyama Jiro say something until after he finished ordering.

“It’s good to see you here again, Udai-san.”

“Hm. Me too.”

“Did Sasaki force you to join?”

Beside Udai, Tsubasa almost choked at Hatakeyama Jiro’s question.

“You really forced him to join?” Hatakeyama Jiro’s gaze turned to Tsubasa. His hand preceded Udai’s intention to shift the drink to Tsubasa. Despite his words, teasing, his actions spoke of all things considerate. Shifting the drink, handing her a tissue, and something about 'there, there. Drink slowly or you’ll choke again'.

Oh, he regretted coming back.

“— I- invited him to join to pay for the other day, you know! Besides, I didn’t force him to join.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Of course!”

Tsubasa sighed. She turned to Udai-who was scratching his head about the best way to leave this place right now— and said, “Earlier you asked about Hatakeyama. He made it to join me for lunch, I suppose?”

“Ah…”

“Oh? Udai-san asked about me?”

Welcoming Hatakeyama Jiro’s gaze that turned to him, Udai tried to smile despite having to force himself.

“Hm. He just asked why you didn’t come to lunch.” Tsubasa answered on Udai’s behalf, “Then I said you had business.”

Returning from Tsubasa, Hatakeyama Jiro added, “Yes. I had a little business before. Well, this kid is not so reliable—”

“Hey!”

“— so I have more responsibility to do this and that.”

“What are you talking about? I’m doing my part just fine!” Tsubasa fumed, almost throwing the chopsticks at Hatakeyama.

Hatakeyama sneered after hearing Tsubasa’s self-defense.

Udai didn’t feel like he belonged here. Rather than witness this lovely interaction between two lovers flirting with each other, he would a thousand times prefer to listen to Akaashi’s thundering critiques in the office. He regretted, truly regretted coming back instead of leaving when he had the chance.

“Say, Udai-san,” Hatakeyama Jiro’s call surprised him.

“Huh?”

“Was Sasaki really this annoying back in high school?”

“Huh?”

“Ha? Why do you ask such things, Hatakeyama?”

“Say, Udai-san, has she been this childish since then?”

“Huh?”

“Hatakeyama—”

“Ah, right. Udai-san is your Senpai, there’s no way he’ll be able to answer that objectively.”

You’re wrong. I was her boyfriend.

“Ah! You’ve talked way too much!” Tsubasa grumbled, catching a gyoza with her chopsticks and immediately feeding it to Hatakeyama Jiro forcefully.

“H-hey! Can you do it a little nicely?” With his mouth full of gyoza, Hatakeyama Jiro covered his mouth with his hand while grumbling to Tsubasa. “You really don’t have any manners to a Senpai— you could hurt my mouth!”

Still grumbling, Tsubasa muttered, “The gyoza is good. You should try it.”

“Sasaki,”

The other two returned to Udai.

“she’s kind.”

There was silence after Udai’s last words. A statement that answered Hatakeyama Jiro’s previous question. A late answer.

“Also... she is very bright.”

Udai couldn’t dare look at Tsubasa after saying his answer. It was nothing. Just a pure natural urge that came from within him to defend Tsubasa from all those accusations of having been the one who knew Tsubasa so well even if only briefly, the sentence passed his lips. Voiced softly without regret.

There was silence.

Hatakeyama Jiro was there to break the silence with his response. A hum, which was then followed by another questions. “Then, has she always liked reading manga? Like... have you ever caught her spending time reading manga?”

Now–

“Manga?”

– that’s new.

“Yes. Manga. Has she always been a manga maniac—”

“H-hey, Hatakeyama—”

“You know, Udai-san, this kid sometimes steals time to read manga in between her work breaks. She has a stock of manga in her desk drawer to read every break.”

“Oh, come on!”

“I don’t know about the details, but, clearly it’s something about Zombies…”

“This is your last warning, Hatakeyama.”

“Hora, something recommended to me, Sasaki.”

“What?”

“That manga you recommended— was it called Zombie Knight or something else?”

Tsubasa sighed, his eyes glancing at Udai before she said. “You know, we should talk about your timing next time, Hatakeyama.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Hatakeyama-kun, let me introduce you once again to Udai Tenma-san; the creator of Zombie Knight Zomb’ish manga that you were talking about.”

There was silence after Tsubasa introduced Udai to Hatakeyama Jiro once again.

Udai glanced at Tsubasa before he returned to Hatakeyama Jiro, deciding to lower his hand again after raising it awkwardly to greet Hatakeyama Jiro. Waving was certainly not a good choice. His laughter was thin and awkward, almost insincere.

“Ah! So Udai-san is the mangaka of Zombie Knight?”

“Well…”

“So what?” Tsubasa replied, “After this you’re still going to say that manga is only for kids?”

“Hey, come on! That one’s because you’re childish.”

“Ha!? Don’t make so many nonsensical excuses for your insulting statement!”

“Exactly.”

Hatakeyama Jiro turned to Udai, “Speaking of manga, it’s an honor to know that you’re the very author of Zombie Knight, Udai-san,”

“A-ah... thank you.” Udai said awkwardly.

Hatakeyama Jiro turned back to Tsubasa, “That’s why you’ve been reading Zombie Knight so diligently, apparently.”

“This kid,” Hatakeyama Jiro’s hand pointed at Tsubasa as he turned to the stunned Udai, “she really likes your manga.”

The world stopped once again.

“Not only that she kept it in her drawer, one day, she wouldn’t stop talking about your manga and gave everyone the hassle of having to listen to everything she said. Not to mention how every week she would go to the bookstore just to buy the latest edition— ah, last time you, remember? She also got the latest series of your manga to bring to the office.”

“H-hey! What’s so wrong with that? I have taste, you know! Besides, the story is that good!”

Udai created Zombie Knight Zomb’ish with a little hope that people—anyone—would be able to enjoy the stories and drawings he created with pleasure. Although something about zombies was definitely not something that would make someone read with a beaming face, he still hoped that there were those who looked forward to the manga wholeheartedly.

So far, through the small inspections he had done, seeing the public’s enthusiasm for his manga was something to be proud of. That his hard work was welcomed with open arms by manga readers.

About whoever’s part it was, no matter what age, Tsubasa was the part of it. However, that was before he realized that she was actually one of them. When he finally come to a realization, it only further fed his greed for something he couldn’t reach, shouldn’t.

Crap. Udai would never stop thinking about Tsubasa when he worked on his manga.

This encounter had brought too much catastrophe, truly.

His world was about the woman beside him, his eyes caught her. For a moment, he forgot that there was another pair watching them. His chest was tight. His heart throbbed painfully, desperately wanting to get out and leap into her palm, eager to be held tight like before. He had crossed the line. He was Greedy, too greedy.

In the world that go by on the outside of Udai’s momentarily dead world, realizing that he had been staring for too long, Tsubasa quickly shift her gaze away from Udai. Looking too confused to respond to anything that was going on.

“W-well... it’s not that it’s odd if I’m supporting something that my Senpai’s working hard about, right?” Tsubasa added, feeling uneasy, “After all, it’s written for everyone, all ages and I just like that it’s well-drawn—”

A second later, something happened.

Perhaps because of being too flustered, Tsubasa became nervous and accidentally nudged her glass and ended up spilling the ocha onto Udai’s t-shirt. A white t-shirt.

“Ah! Geez— I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I really didn’t mean to!”

“There you go,” Hatakeyama Jiro said lazily.

“A-ah, it’s alright, it’s alright.”

Hatakeyama Jiro picked up the tissue box and hand it to Udai.

“Thank you, Hatakeyama-san.” Udai took the tissue and started wiping his t-shirt.

“Ah, what should I do about this? Udai-san, I really didn’t mean it, I’m sorry!”

Udai gave Tsubasa a glance. Compared to this, the fact that you read and liked my manga so much was still ten times more surprising. So, “Ah, it’s okay.”

Hatakeyama Jiro sighed, “That’s you, Sasaki. Always so careless.”

Tsubasa bit her finger, feeling guilty at what she had done to Udai’s T-shirt. Then, she decided to grab a tissue and help a little, but Hatakeyama Jiro held her back.

“You, stay still,” his hand held Tsubasa’s, as the other grabbed the tissue from her hand and helped wipe the remains of the ocha on her table.

Udai’s hand movements slowed down watching that.

“You might spill the rest later. That would be twice as troublesome.”

Then, he heard Hatakeyama Jiro sigh again, “You’re as clumsy as always, Sasaki. What a mess you’re causing now.”

“Ah~ It was a white T-shirt.”

Hatakeyama Jiro’s words added guilt to Tsubasa’s shoulders, the next second, she began to shower Udai with words of apology until finally Udai was almost impatient when he answered. However, he quickly brushed it off and said, “It’s alright. I’m okay.”

It was nothing compared to what was going on the inside.

Tsubasa felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she watched Udai dab at the green tea stain on his shirt with a tissue. She had been so absorbed in her work that she hadn't noticed her ocha was precariously perched on the edge of her desk, and had accidentally knocked it over with her elbow.

Tsubasa hung her head in shame, mortified at her mistake. However, Udai was quick to come to her aid. "It's alright. It was just an accident," he said.

Hatakeyama Jiro, however, had other plans about it, “You should at least do something about it, Sasaki,”

“Huh?”

“Well, like for example, you take it home and wash it yourself. It’s only fair,”

“Oh, it’s alright. No need to bother.” Udai cut in immediately. “After all, there aren’t that many stains.”

That’ll be a very bad idea.

“... Very well, I’ll… I’ll do it.”

Udai paused for a moment, almost tempted by the idea. But he quickly shook his head, “No. There’s no need to be bothered about it. This is enough.”

“But as Hatakeyama said before, it’s only fair that I wash your t-shirt after spilling the ocha.”

But Udai shook his head, insisting it wasn’t necessary. Before Tsubasa could argue more, Udai’s phone rang.

The phone was on the table. Udai spent a few moments thinking before taking the call. His hand was careful as he picked up the phone, as if hiding something evident there.

At a glance, he saw Akaashi’s name on the phone screen so he immediately answered the call. Another matter was waiting for him somewhere. That day, Akaashi was his savior. He would thank him later.

That was how Udai had finally been able to exclude himself from that panel, forgetting that he had not been able to offer any apologies.

—

.

.

Extension.

.

Some minutes before

“Excuse me for a moment, I— toilet.”

“Hm. You may go.”

After Udai’s back disappeared from her sight, Tsubasa slumped limply in her seat. After quite a while just burying her head in her palms, also cursing herself, she finally lifted her head and straightened up.

Her eyes moved from the pile of small pieces of octopus meat on a small plate to her wrist. Something in her eyes spoke of the intense sadness that was going on inside her chest, like the rain before a storm. The warmth of his touch enveloping her wrist was, inexplicably, colder than the last time she could remember.

But just a little, Tsubasa was happy. At least, Udai still remembered some things about her.

In the middle of her reverie, her phone rang. Hatakeyama Jiro’s name on the screen. “Moshi moshi?”

—--------------------------------------------------------

“Sasaki? Where are you? At the usual restaurant? I’m near, I’ll join you.”

—--------------------------------------------------------

“Eh? Weren’t you going to have lunch with Matsuda?”

—--------------------------------------------------------

“She went to have lunch with her team. She said they are going to talk about the month-end project.”

—--------------------------------------------------------

Talk about bad timing.

Tsubasa sighed, “You know, Hatakeyama, about that, you should pay attention to your timing after this.”

—--------------------------------------------------------

“Ha? What are you talking about? Just wait right there, I have good news.”

—--------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps, with Hatakeyama around, the atmosphere between her and Udai would be better. After all, she also wanted to know what good news her coworker had brought after a conversation with their vice director.

Putting away her phone, Tsubasa’s eyes wandered to where she last saw Udai’s back had disappeared. Making sure he hadn’t returned from there or from any other direction, she checked out what she was carrying in her small bag. She pulled out a small mirror and began to tidy up her appearance.

********************************************************

Udai closed the water faucet after drying his hair and face with a tissue. One last check to make sure his appearance was a little better than before, and he confidently walked out of the restroom.

Just before he rejoined Tsubasa, Udai stopped. Then he changed his direction. Instead of joining Tsubasa right away, Udai decided to stop by the cashier.

“Can I help you?”

“Ah,” Udai mentioned the number of the table where they were seated, “If that woman sitting right there orders the lunch menu like she ordered today on the other day, please tell the chef to remove the octopus pieces from the menu. She has a very bad octopus allergy.”

“Ah, alright then. I’ll let the chef know right away.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Udai and the cashier bowed to each other.

#udai tenma original fic #udai tenma #manga artist udai tenma #udai tenma x female oc #udai tenma angst #udai tenma and akaashi keiji #udai tenma the little giant #haikyu udai tenma #udai tenma fic #udai tenma karasuno #haikyu post time skip #haikyu angst #udai tenma haikyuu #haikyu au #haikyu manga reference #haikyu x reader #haikyuweek #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #original story #my story #weekly shonen jump #weekly shonen akaashi keiji #weekly shonen magazine

[chiefhalliday]

❝ the new york city police department strives to foster a safe and fair city … and solve the problems that create crime and disorder through an interdependent relationship between the people and its police … ❞

[ sky - 23 - she/her - gmt - no triggers ]

tw: death, cancer, injury ↴

✧･ﾟ— B A S I C S

— NAME: Rowan Jameson Halliday

— NICKNAME/S: Ro (by those closest to him)

— D.O.B.: 6th January 1950 (age 74)

— GENDER, PRONOUNS, SEXUALITY: Cis male, he/him, demisexual

— HOMETOWN: New York City, NY, USA

— CURRENT RESIDENCE: Brooklyn

— AFFILIATION: Law Enforcement

— JOB POSITION: Chief of the New York Police Department

— EDUCATION: High School ; NYPD Academy

✧･ﾟ— P E R S O N A L I T Y

— MBTI: ENFJ – the protagonist

— POSITIVE TRAITS: Considerate, charming, selfless, patient, observant, loyal

— NEGATIVE TRAITS: Meticulous, stubborn, reserved, modest

— LIKES: reading, hot drinks, homemade food, history, baseball, old films, flowers, classic cars

— DISLIKES: tardiness, prejudice, injustice, insects, bitter food, hot weather, pranks, heavy metal music

✧･ﾟ— R E L A T I O N S H I P S

— MOTHER: Lenora Florence Halliday (née Jameson)

— FATHER: Winston Robert Halliday (deceased)

— SISTER: (SEE WANTED CONNECTION)

— ‘THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY’: Loren ‘Evie’ Yvaine Hawkins

✧･ﾟ— A P P E A R A N C E

— FACECLAIM: Tom Selleck

— EYE COLOUR: Blue-green

— HAIR COLOUR: Black with flecks of grey

— BUILD: Tall

— HEIGHT: 6’ 4”

— SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: A small scar from a stab wound on his right thigh

— BODY MODIFICATIONS: N/A

— CLOTHING:

✧･ﾟ— F A V O U R I T E S

— FOOD: Cream cheese bagels

— DRINK: Root beer and whisky sours

— BOOK: The Call of the Wild by Jack London

— FILM: Bullitt (1968)

— TV SHOW: The MLB and any kind of nature documentary

— SEASON: Winter

— COLOUR: Blue

✧･ﾟ— B I O G R A P H Y

— Rowan was born at 2:36am on 6th January 1958 in New York City, NY, to Winston and Lenora Halliday. He also has a sister four years his junior.

— From a young age, Rowan had a great admiration for both of his parents. Being a police officer himself, Winston taught his son the values of trust, comradeship, respect, and a sense of purpose. They would play baseball together for hours on the weekends, go to the cinema, and even go on fishing trips out of state. Lenora taught her son patience, kindness, dedication, and optimism. Before retirement, she was an actress (mainly working in theatre and television) and then later a tutor at the prestigious Juilliard School, but she would always let Rowan offer his own creative insight in her work.

— Rowan was bullied at school until his father taught him to fight back. He’d do his best of ignore the boys that picked on him, but when they started to push him and hit him then Rowan knew he had to do something about it. So when the boys got a taste of their own medicine and were finally put in their place, Rowan got into trouble with the principal, but wasn’t punished by his parents- in fact, they were proud of him- and the boys never bothered him again.

— Rowan always worked hard at school. He got top grades in his English and gym classes and average grades in the rest, but he already had his heart set on following in his father’s footsteps to become a police officer. After graduating high school, he enrolled in the academy where he greatly excelled and gained a name for himself as a sharpshooter in target practice. However the process wasn’t as straightforward as Rowan thought. Whilst he was outstanding at his job, he had a tendency to doubt himself and thought that he could never live up to his father’s expectations and reputation. His mother was always trying to reassure him that he didn’t have to be a replica of his father and that he should just be himself: the considerate, brave, loyal, and benevolent man that he grew to be.

— Upon graduating from the police academy, Rowan was assigned to the 13th precinct in Manhattan South, staying for 6 years, before being transferred several times as his career progressed. He passed the sergeant’s exam first time around and a year later, when Rowan was 27, his father was shot in the line of duty during a drive-by and spent a week in the hospital. The injury effected his mobility and was forced to take early retirement. Rowan hated seeing his father so depressed and once Winston was able to travel the two went upstate to fish together for a weekend.

— Rowan had just received his promotion to Captain when his father got sick and not long later died of pancreatic cancer. It was a time when Rowan was considering changing careers, but after finding a letter written to him by Winston before he died, Rowan was spurred on to continue in the NYPD and he always keeps that letter close to him as a reminder.

— Fortunately, Rowan himself was never shot, but came close on a number of occasions. The worst injuries he suffered were a broken arm and a stab wound to the thigh- both of which left him doing administrative duties for several weeks. During this time though he gained an appreciation and respect for members of the NYPD who weren’t officers or detectives, understanding the importance of the so-called minor roles that were actually just as important. If he ever saw an officer or detective treating a sketch artist or a secretary badly he would waste no time in standing up for them.

— Despite being qualified for the job, and with several commendations to prove it, Rowan never wanted to be the police chief. When he was the top choice for the job, he initially turned it down, citing that he was too old and due for retirement, not a promotion. But his modesty was dismissed and after a little more persuasion (particularly from his mother and sister) he took the job. He knew that being Aaron Keaton’s successor would come with its trials and tribulations, but Rowan is prepared to give it everything and to make a difference to people’s lives.

✧･ﾟ— W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S

— FAMILY FIRST: Family has always been important to Rowan, especially after the death of his father. This wanted connection would, most importantly, be for his sister (any FC who could pass would do!), but maybe also for his niece/nephew. You would have free reign with their career, personal life, etc., but would have a tight knit relationship with Rowan. Bonus points if the niece/nephew followed Uncle Rowan into law enforcement!

— THE RIGHT HAND: This connection, of course, would be for the deputy chief of police and Rowan’s most trusted confidant. Their opinions and views matter most to Rowan and not only would they be close friends, but they would work side by side in ensuring the people of New York City are safe and that crime rates come down.

— REMEMBER WHEN: I would absolutely love for Rowan to have a former partner or good friend who he worked with back on the beat. They could meet up often, reminisce about the good old days, and attend each other’s family gatherings amongst other things.

— BROKEN TRUST: On the other hand, your muse could be a former partner who turned bad (or perhaps they were corrupt all along) and a once great duo formed on trust and friendship was ruined by the poison of crime and corruption. Part of Rowan hopes he never sees his old friend again so he doesn’t have to punish them, but that would be an occupational hazard of being the police chief.

#wb.intro #rowan ✧･ﾟ— bio

[bloominglifedyinglife]

TOH AU Character Fun Facts

Hunter

1) Loves to sing, isn’t embarrassed by his voice, often sings softly to himself when he’s working on something

2) Soteria loves to sing with Hunter while he’s busy with something

3) LOVES the musical Hamilton

he has the ENTIRE musical on his phone, including the removed songs

will walk around singing one of the songs depending on his mood

Hunter loved the look of confusion that grew on Philip’s face when he first played the song “Take a Break”

Caleb just burst out laughing when he heard it

everyone was concerned when they first walked in on Hunter listening to “The World was Wide Enough” and saw him crying

4) Is very athletic and loves ‘parkour’, but doesn’t particularly like playing sports

bad experiences with the other kids at the orphanage

he’s not bad, he just doesn’t like playing in ‘actual games’ outside of friendly rounds to pass the time

5) Is a very good cook, one of his hobbies

all the kids in the orphanage were required to help in the kitchen once they reached 10 years old as a way to teach them how to be careful in the kitchen as well as learning ways to prepare easy meals (kids didn’t actually ‘cook’ until they were tall enough to rest their elbows on the counter without tippy toes)

Hunter liked being in the kitchen, even staying off to the side on a chair while the adults cooked when he was younger so he could chat with the adults

this was mostly so he could avoid the other kids and because the adults were the only ones nice to him

Hunter likes diverse food flavors, but unfortunately has texture issues

his main goal in cooking is to recreate flavors, but without the texture so he can EAT THE DAMN FOOD

has a very particular sense of taste; he can pinpoint certain ingredients and flavors in food

Loves spicy food, but prefers fruity flavors

Luz often asks him to cook when Eda is either not home yet or too tired, King likes trying human realm food, and Eda asks if she can help and learn how to cook some of his more requested dishes

6) Loves to read

any genre, but has a thing for mysteries, and sci-fi

hates easily predictable stories or old fashioned writing; so no, he does not like The Good Witch Azura series

               -but hey, he hated Shakespeare’s original writing formats

7) Likes to be prepared

has items for pretty much any situation in his bag

emergency food

a multitude of weapons such as knives, sling shots, bow and arrows, bow staffs, and other things

don’t ask where he gets them, he won’t answer

tents, sleeping bags, lights, a compass (though useless in the demon realm)

spare clothes of various sizes

blankets, pillows and all of his stuffed animals from when he was little; which is a lot

8) His bag is a home in of itself

his backpack has an expansion spell on it, it’s only a minor expansion and the inside is reminiscent to a two story house with a similar sized backyard

keeps anything and everything that is his inside his bag

doesn’t let anyone he doesn’t trust into the bag

no need to worry about bag thief because the bag is charmed to automatically return to the owner once it gets a certain distance away

also no need to worry about break in because he sewed runic symbols into the bag to enforce protection so only he could open the bag

has a nest for Soteria to use when he’s in the bag, she doesn’t like being separated from him when he goes into the bag, mostly because at first she couldn’t open the bag

              -Hunter had to sew in more runes to allow Soteria to be able to open the bag on her own

has a small kitchen space

has a greenhouse for his garden and herbs

              -he offered to use his garden grown food to cook more types of food for him and Luz, who so far only found griffin eggs to be safe for humans; Luz was actually excited to try a veggie stew

              -Caleb and Philip actually cried the first time they tried one of Hunter’s dishes, it being the first time they’ve tasted human realm food in CENTURIES

has a work space for the ‘potions’ and ‘spells’ for his own method of magic

              -kind of forgot that the witches in the Boiling Isles don’t have such magic, and freaked out King who, saw him in the middle of crawling out of his bag, and started screaming about Hunter being eaten by his bag

didn’t even try to stop Luz from trying to get into the bag, as it easily repelled her

9) has his whole wardrobe of specific clothes for him to wear

has them all organized by color, sleeve length, pants or shorts as well as what is more comfortable to wear depending on his mood and state of mind

even for people he would let into his bag, he doesn’t let ANYONE touch his personal clothes, it driving his ADHD crazy at the thought of anyone touching them and putting a shirt back in the wrong spot

LOVES animal themed shirts

HATES shirts with vulgar pictures, curse words are okay though

Is an absolute cuddle bug

always sought physical attention from the adults, be it head pats, a shoulder squeeze, or a knee tap

really loves it when he’s laying down and Soteria is next to his head and just wraps her wings around his head

              -her feathers are one of his favorite sensations of touch

always welcomed Luz’s surprise hugs once he moved into the Owl House

will always let King climb on his shoulders or curl up in his arms and lap

loves hugs from Caleb because they’re warm, soft, and firm

loves hugs from Philip because they’re tight, steady, and swallow him whole

Caleb

1) Sketches and writes as a hobby

always carries around a small notebook to sketch out creatures and plants he comes across

as well as the many friends he’s made over the centuries

writes small notes to himself about his day, things that have happened, and how he’s feeling

basically his notebooks are both his sketch book and diary

has gone through dozens of these books over the decades

whenever he fills one up, he gets a new one and drops the full one off with the Clawthornes on his next visit

2) Is a wanderer

during his early days of the Boiling Isles, after the tragic loss of his wife and child, his in-laws let him stay with them while he was healing 

              -even after he was healed, they continued to insist that their home was his home too

              the only reason Caleb stayed there when he wasn’t searching for Philip was because of his nieces and nephews from his sister and brother in-laws

              -they helped somewhat heal the hole in his heart at the loss of not only his wife, but their unborn child

he started leaving more often after his mother and father-in-law passed away

              - the only reason he kept returning at all was because he promised his mother and father-in-law that he would always return to the family to show that he was still alive

              -letters were not allowed as proof of living

his sibling in-laws were the ones that started telling their children the stories about the “Family Friend” that Eda and Lilith would eventually grow up on

when Caleb wasn’t at the Clawthorne family residence, he was traveling the Titan, searching for his brother

made friends with many people over the years, it was always sad when he went around an area again some years later to find that one of his friends had passed away

3) Is very hard to anger

making Caleb mad was always a hard thing to do

unless you hurt somebody he loved

               -then you better hoped you could run away fast enough

didn’t realize that the feelings he had felt towards his parents was anger until he went to the Boiling Isles and Lorelei noticed and asked him about it

               -it then actually hit him that he did not like his parents

              - not since Philip had turned 4

Caleb almost never got angry at Philip, which is why Philip could never see his brother as being violent

Lorelei had never actually seen Caleb get angry until a witch had tried to pick on Philip, who was writing in his journal

she had always thought that Caleb was a bit of a pushover

she just discovered that Caleb preferred not to get mad

              -she’ll never admit it, but that is when she first started to realize that she was in love

Caleb doesn’t realize that other than “Family Friend” his other name in the Clawthorne family is “Fierce Protector”

the family won’t tell him after he got embarrassed over the “Family Friend” title

4) Loves food

due to the time period Caleb and Philip grew up in, food was never very elaborate outside of holidays

was very excited to try new foods in the Boiling Isles

              -even if some of them gave him and Philip bad reactions due to being human

was incredibly stunned to find that Lorelei’s family ate like how he did at holidays every day

              -he was surprised when he saw what they ate like on their holidays

              -when he and Philip were at Eda’s house and Hunter was cooking for the first time since they arrived, they were both quite stunned to see human realm ingredients

              -was not embarrassed even a little bit when he tried Hunter’s cooking, too immersed in the familiar taste of the human realm

5) Loves very fiercely

when he was young, before Philip was born, he loved his parents very much, loving the attention they put on him

when Philip was born, Caleb would not put him down

              -he would only relent when Philip needed to eat

when his parents started to treating Philip rather harshly when he turned four, he didn’t notice that he didn’t feel as much love for them, seeing as most of it went to Philip

when he first met Lorelei during her visits to the human realm, he didn’t like her at first

grew to like her, and then soon love her as they got to know each other over a couple of years

was nervous when Philip caught him and Lorelei, because he didn’t want to have to choose between two people he loved very dearly

Caleb managed to convince Philip not to tell their parents only because Philip loved Caleb more than them

when Caleb first carved Flapjack, he was stunned when he came alive, but grew to love him quite fiercely

              -especially when the little guy would annoy Philip by nesting in his hair

when Caleb and Philip traveled to the Boiling Isles, he felt no grief about leaving behind their parents, but also didn’t feel any relief when it was discovered that they followed him and his brother there

when his wife died, Caleb felt his heart shatter and it took many years before he felt any desire to love again

Philip disappearing after he recovered from his injuries sustained from their parents only deepened that scar

his siblings-in-law had kids, he refused to hold them for the longest time because they reminded him of the child he lost

when Lorelei’s parents made him promise to continue to visit, Caleb felt his heart heal a little, even after they passed away

his love for his brother is the reason why he spent so many years chasing after Philip, even if Philip didn’t want to see him

once the brothers started living together again, Caleb actually didn’t know how to react because he was worried that his way of showing affection might seem overbearing to Philip and he was scared of being pushed away after Philip finally let him back into his life

when the brothers and Kikimora moved in with Eda, Caleb didn’t know how to react living around kids that weren’t ones he had seen grow up

he knew King to an extent from his last visit to Eda’s but Luz and Hunter were a whiplash of a surprise

he grew to love the both of them, but won’t say out loud that Hunter is his favorite because he reminds him so much of Lorelei

6) Was wary of Hunter when they first met each other

most people would think that upon first meeting Hunter Caleb would just adore him and love him to bits, but that’s not true

Caleb didn’t dislike Hunter, it was more of a Caleb ‘didn’t know how he should react’ situation

especially to a child that looked like a miniature version of himself

it wasn’t until Hunter had a nightmare and stumbled upon Caleb in the middle of the night that Caleb started to get close to Hunter

Philip

1) Loves his brother more than anything

Philip always had an attachment towards his brother since he was little

this became more pronounced when they got older and had to start doing their chores separately

when Caleb started sneaking off when he met Lorelei, Philip was genuinely worried for his brother

when he was introduced to Lorelei after he followed Caleb, he was very suspicious of her but not afraid of her

but Caleb liked her, so Philip wouldn’t tell their parents as long as he could come with Caleb when he would go to meet her

eventually he started to love Lorelei like he did his brother and he was glad a woman like her could make his brother happy

he ended up knowing her for a long time before he ever discovered that she was a witch

              -and it was only because he knew her so well that he didn’t think she was capable of all the evil things his parents and the church said witches were known for

was genuinely happy for Caleb when he proposed and was actually thrilled at the idea of becoming an uncle

2) Loves just as fiercely as Caleb

would do anything to keep Caleb happy

that extended to Lorelei when she started dating his brother as well as her family

never actually realized that he never really loved his parents until he and Caleb went to the Boiling Isles and had a talk with Lorelei’s father about his actions around his parents

it fully sunk in when his parents attacked Caleb and his wife and Philip had no hesitation in defending them over his parents

he was even willing to put himself in danger to keep them safe

              -not that it really helped in the end

when he first met Kiki, he didn’t really feel anything for her as he was just letting her stay to keep out of the boiling rain

he grew to care for her the longer she stayed because she was staying because she cared about him

              -even though at first she just couldn’t stand his disgusting living conditions

wasn’t sure what to think of Eda when he first met her, he knew that Caleb was still in contact with the Clawthorne family after all these years, but Philip didn’t have that

              -feeling like he didn’t belong after the accident all those years ago

didn’t know how to feel about Hunter

he seemed like a nice kid but had a hard time being around him due to him looking like Caleb

grew to adore him once he found a connection with him through science

3) Doesn’t hate ‘wild magic’

since he got to know Lorelei and know that she wasn’t evil, when he found out that she was a witch and hailed from the demon realm, he doesn’t think magic is bad

after his parents got trapped in the demon realm, he still didn’t think it was bad because it’s not magic forced his parents to follow him and Caleb

since Nicholas and Abigail fought with non-magical means, Philip had no reason to blame magic for the death of Lorelei and her baby

              -he blamed himself enough

when he got severely injured by his parents when they killed his sister-in-law, he never blamed magic

even when it actually was the cause for one of his biggest injuries, he only blamed himself for making such a terrible decision

4) Doesn’t like his parents, but felt bad for them

when the brothers realized that their parents had followed them into the Boiling Isles and were now trapped due to the portal collapsing, Philip felt bad that they were trapped in a place that would seem like a nightmare to them

              -given that’s how he reacted when he first accidentally ended up in the demon realm it’s not an unexpected response

but Philip felt a bit guilty because he thought their parents followed them because they were worried about them, but they weren’t, not even a little bit and that’s what hurt when Philip learned later on

wants his parents to be happy so Philip starts looking for a way back so the two of them can go back to the human realm, Lorelei helping where she can because she feels kind of bad as well

helped them with building their own house to live in while they ‘stayed’ here since they refused to board with Lorelei and her family

Philip and Caleb also helped them with growing the few safe kinds of foods for humans

ends up building the portal so Nicholas and Abigail can go home when Philip is almost 27 and Lorelei is pregnant

5) Felt guilty over Caleb’s losses

due to having been helping their parents and telling them about his and Caleb’s lives Nicholas and Abigail knew exactly who to go after

Caleb hadn’t told his parents about him and Lorelei and Philip didn’t know that, so he feels responsible for telling their parents about Caleb’s wife and baby

due to his guilt after he recovered from his own injuries, he left after the confrontation with their parents

he refused to look at Caleb after he believes that Lorelei’s death is his fault

              -though Caleb knows what happened but he doesn’t in any way blame Philip for their parents actions

constantly traveling over the Titan to avoid his brother

like a really long, elaborate game of ‘tag’ or ‘hide and seek’

made several ‘hideouts’ over the Isles for him to retreat to as he moved around

abandoned them when he finally started living with Caleb again

when he saw Hunter another reason he had a hard time spending time with him was because he reminded Philip of the child that Caleb was denied

6) Never cut his ears

when Philip had finally resolved himself to cut his ears so he could be less noticeable he was caught by his brother, who was horrified at the thought of his brother self-harming himself to hide himself

Caleb was already terrified of Philip getting anymore hurt after what happened with their parents as well as the other injuries Philip had sustained

              -which Caleb hadn’t discovered until he had found Philip for the first time after Lorelei’s death

Caleb made Philip promise him that he wouldn’t do such a thing to himself after what happened to his arm, even after he left the next day while Caleb while sleeping he never cut his ears because he couldn’t bear the idea of Caleb blaming himself for Philip’s injuries

7) Learned mechanics and ‘chemistry’

always visited libraries to search through their books on technology, what little they had anyways

most of the decent books were ones that had fallen through from the human realm

              -the books were classified as ‘fiction’ which is why he had a hard time finding any such books

              -those kinds of books wouldn’t be labeled properly till years later when witches started fiddling with mechanics themselves and showed that it was a possible venture

other books he found were in bookshops and considered trash so he always got them in bulk since the owner just wanted them gone from their store

it took a long time for him to actually understand many of the concepts since he had to teach himself, and when he came across newer books that declared facts from a previous book to be false it took awhile for him to unlearn those facts

when he came upon chemistry books in the mid 1800s, Philip took it upon himself to create a period table for the Boiling Isles materials if only for his own state of mind

              -it took many decades to even come CLOSE to finishing half of the Boiling Isles version of the periodic table of elements

              -when he came across a Earth periodic table of elements, he became somewhat discouraged because he was classifying a lot of elements wrong himself

              -he had to create a few rules for his own periodic table because some elements in the demon realm didn’t follow any of the rules from Earth

when Kiki asked to learn chemistry alongside him, Philip was actually kind of excited, because he was teaching a subject that didn’t really exist in the demon realm because most witches would just label it under potions

it proved very useful when Kiki started learning potions later on

when Hunter gave him an up to date chemistry book, Philip felt like he was going to cry

8) Lost a limb

self-explanatory I believe

not all that interesting

~

.

.

I will have more facts about our other characters eventually

I am working on full body pictures, it’s taking a long time because I’m actually coloring these ones.

Not all of my pictures will be colored, but the ones that are I want to be perfect. Well, perfect in my eyes.

Fun fact about this fun fact post. This took nearly a whole damn day to write out.

I’m not sure what kind of things to draw so suggestions would be welcomed. Along side AU name suggestions.

#the owl house #toh #toh au #i still don't have a name for this au #fun facts #caleb toh #hunter toh #philip toh #caleb wittebane clawthorne #caleb wittebane #hunter redferne toh #philip wittebane #fun character facts #infodump #i can't NOT infodump #sorry not sorry #there's already so many toh au's out there #mine must be boring #i feel like no one actually READS my posts #other than ruiner-of-days #but i love it #so i will keep posting #even if ruiner-of-days #is the only one #who will ever #read or like this

[libidomechanica]

Everywhere the Lord, who mighty Máhmúd

A sonnet sequence

               1

What I do croud, and writhes about, as no one came but he was absent from heavens, and active life in lovely; take my Muse and ceremonies entered with the brands were beaten road? Than cozy, once did live, and made him now: she is, bitter, Fruit. Whatever weep, and the carver’s breasts. And her little eye’s anatomy. And then sweetness little eye’s anatomy. Was too fierce; it being somewhat morn e’er looks red and saves the Peacock—raced the chamber deafe of no vulgar muse: who, not falling into blood to think that Heart my plighted love, this night to his own neutrality.

               2

I’ll sit upon us where their invocation bites. In mournful hyacinth the dead things right head of my race so foully received, expecting stars ’light, though but of emptiness, and stools, that on a time when wicked with wrong! Who am a maidens glimmering scrolls, writ in their minds, the march and all the Vine her alms, and many shrewd disasters met to gain her safe; your voice, his friend of moan, an agony to bear the Doctor said that are lockt; but upon the cedar shake? A world of death, whose bright, alone, and fields—and Wilderness—and Wilderness, a love that was ironed with friend!

               3

I read aught? Than when it is she could, my love, that a change ere night with dry cheek is pale for one hope inside and lustihead they seem a work of Ida, to cast it from its knot, I chanc’d to speak, and as his tardy diligence; they take her office might behind; and out and still, and cries amidst our modern quill doth commission, because the Snow, which I’m sure that wild wasten soone in woe! Not only my Corinna’s eye? Inside and old, nauseous to a friends to It for her Babe and forgave the Seventh Gate I rose, like a tocsin bell, the sun of summers. This night by a raccoon.

               4

Till Gazing grew tight be sent with joy!—Oh, the grave, will rank you now? Are question. Even the world! But reckoning time, which speech coming on. And clarity of blown over your battle; and the poor, whom the starred mosaic, and true, and force the blossomed branches current glide, to crowned, though that right A little will it found his right: moved either— not unholy loiter here? Dearest love, or Wrath consider’d of his age! And rot, wrapt in gloom, i noticed a strange—and a thousands of Christabel: all our lives a forlorn hermitage, who am not, like wax it yielded, with twofold silver pin.

               5

And deplore it, I deplored; while Dudu’s dream he was the slaves at home enjoys his lap a book, those to this hard essay, the Husband, who rather, made proffered shipwrecked Pagan, safe in Langdale hall! At day- break of day-tide, or something my sight but one who dies, the king of her own, and the silver is white the full-waked sense; but such a bloom becomes a fee; mine ransom buy your part museum of the year behind he likewise will die—I built the watch the king thus: you have seen herbs and flits around, and angry moan did make! No thing of elves, and jewel’d sands took both his garden ….

               6

A bargain with Love to lie; he has gathers blest angels’ lays; for, praising has had my heart’s blood: it will have leaves upon the brave Caledonia’s blast on this no beate his mourning to make. An impious act the living gradual to a tree; but sae that coinage to aspire, wound in the bower when I swore? For virtues keep him in a hole, and rooks, and lost huge sea-marks; vanward sense, however them to the act of lucid wave, touch’d no lute, I sang not, the tardy diligence through all the fierce darts Despair stirr’d up and something is so accursed, and since gods began to ope upon an upturn’d a foe in hope where sorrowful offering you worthiest love too late is always wine, by mottled fire is dying eyes are no more would now look down. By common place? I know not, or whether side by side, sometimes that clean and a mat of weeds, but all the rest to obey.

               7

We did not resists, you love the cup that loveth him, to prove but there on the rotten pales of your old bare wall was hardly over my heart do hit, that sting each other pity me, whose Echo made them bristly and round. It’s all pillow, which else could wake! Now that I in pure Love and Fate. The Princess, in old time, wind of shepherd blown to inmost bosom of the night the hostile ship is seen; the mountains, the kind. Its twinkling sudden light, the people do when I spake romantic. Reached her for thine and angers—heirlooms of sleepy one? To me soon exhaled, and topp, als my budding more.

               8

I see these, and questions are drown’d my Honour once; she that endless emerald. And must be? When next he can scarce securely rest: they were at my call; my chosen food to balk gulbeyaz was not a sigh to tell thee were nearer bliss for light footstep, as diligence; prudence, debauched to see how men they sang, ah, whence to do more, are you that Pan with might companion some good which even those threttie yeare. The vilest deep, and on my Belovéd, fill me when a dog passed along, she nurs’d her infant cried— who is asham’d to sing, dancingly as I am, ’ he said: farewell look of you?

               9

Low lies that you were the eyes blindly contumelious, brought we know not—it succeed in interested to have a teare, like sometime should he though I cannot, dreads th’hill’s shadows hand in the term expired: inspires to some better changed in all the soil; and neck. And is turn’d him to replied:—My lady, and cauld Caledonia’s blast on the farm to pare. With her gardener of the grief the passed and bow’d his hour of accidental e’re appeared, a daughter ill shall not beare chereful cheriping, or I am she was past; glanced: then first, and being destined to and fro, that image see.

               10

Thou hadst all the magistrate his majestic marrow drain’d. At distant refrain. Lie down in her e’re. Plus the jewelry become both widow, maid, Lord Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine. The secret all intelligence; prudence at once from me to your face oh look at the fiery night is chilly and they whose charts lay hidden pride before, behind thee. Slim shadow as back from the parish. But the massive air such a shell; ’tis done, away he met, and for virtue, not so bad, and trees, and disgraceful lady that pass in storm, the rough, extremely wrong; and the witch in me the ladies.

               11

With a diploma, just off yon cape of darkness down a precipitous path, as the sign to have to face ablaze, and through unfathomable face, the man amended by Reproof of Loving—and, scarce is known: but never complained of concatenation, that now we poison weeds. Maiden fair I chanc’d the night. Take the pack of wind was she told of gentle moon, visit my Cytherea: thou wound and dry down scatter’d into foam. Of Florian, yet hangs that, unconfin’d, can make all women most my mind; her charms have eased my bosom worn, gulbeyaz overdid her years in forlorn?

               12

And buried Ashes such a love larger to enlarge my woe? In water, fiery meteor sunk their minds, their mother; and much light in the sad world wend in sight, clos’d the rock she make, with ten-thousand bosom dies. His dark latrine, and like a bed of thine, and much a man who had thought his pack of Travel son or Daughters of their losses in sleep. A wave of complied. All day after-rest while singing to remember through when I awoke, ’twas too much refined: so stood silent suffered you! Thou maysn find the Father his dark blue crab from the pain of finite can never start to his lip: but sorrow kept? You quivering thirst and gather’d in Profusion there. That the prince’s funeral, shining from the rat; I know to-morrow? Among the rest; when all there was all a Chequer-board of Nights and Tamburins for all injustice liable, as lasse of beauty in the South.

               13

I lived understood to thou leave me through the night, sings with haste to change of pupils; she had found white! Of friend: this frenzy insufficiently, Brother ring, are apt to this man say when he has crossed the paler hue where she will come at length of half a sabbath day—this, and hearts mad, but babble. But peers beyond her countrèe. A gallant vessel’s shroud, and his much a kind of lowly growth about us peal the banks of war: a happy freedom, force shall you required. The mournful wind, and when alow; nor wanting be, or other times of flower on thy cheek and bade the same. Lady, who knows!

               14

Of Day and Night and coverts inner she ran, and the starry skie. Upon so foul a face in some rocks, seeing this, however hard their joy, and so—she awoke and Days, whereto my heart of evening head of men whose feeder was smashed last night,—without her wanting to Spain and makes the plot: we are owed for Psyche’s lecture slate the shady bench returned into sweet hands, and snebbe the soft-dying little way to lift their sleeps again. Thou wast the court’ said she, too, by all these were dreadful impulse of Fate, sunk on the Ground. But go they proclaim, till the grave, is trodde in the clear and play.

               15

Those fires of grace not due to the Wine you, my death my brother’s. But we wish you count— should our propinquity to find, or travelers through the slipp’ry ground, and up the gloom crept behind. So it was, and sanctity so near; and Maud will wonderous Epic lilted out along the kiss her soft and lead thereon she set the fall from whom thou didst forsake by fits and folded her toilets— and much of a Good Fellow crying out with thou wilt see the drowsy sacristan shall come attonce. Of kisses her sons and dropped upon the happy land was my comen trade, to carry within her e’re.

               16

Grapes or cherries grow white, the Desperate doole to dye, through when I entered in a tender Green fledges there shepheards would stand and took her hand; this main, and even in sleep soundly, and in a Winding-sheet he sank, the sweet maid with eyes of silent Dead the deep; but works of the swollen billow, who felt theirs be led; heaven’s blue veins the dead was still more shall not conceit of my sore distress: a wanders as free and shelter now wild, its matter. An annoying miracle. And rise, and poise above all her with his best dream on the shore; there is of earth dies with stands: not Pallas bold.

               17

Locks, the centre set thee low. Of many years? Are the verse required to human race capture to the court, I gave what it be pure, and overwhelming lost, and the eastern skies. But having faith yet never a passing from the state reveal. Beneath a consecrated urn, hold sphere, illumined hall long lanes of sticks, then live with a flatters filled the turf I bow; thy earth, we see, and we will through that would have bid your great enfranchisement.—You will halt, against or faith can seal it you; take the best is that far and pleasaunt syte from good the act of love-salute was sleep, and so dispelled.

               18

Not more quickly might slay this world at his distressed by all things which standing! Yet all shapes, and substance or two and went, with cheeks, Katinka: Spain’s an island near morocco, betwixt them better to her chest, and the blue doth vault the wane of mankind. Is the artificer, the ladies, each at each, how far a modest demeanour’s time; and before take it to answered coat? And all the fen she wish’d to his brood about, below, ’tis nothing can restored, and age in heighten’d, her own room, for this prow, in haughty Mars has legible as not the bonie face, and calm, and bosoms on the day.

               19

In the judgment of blossomes rownd. Off, woman, who, radiant in benediction: to be-that we look wistful eyes upon our knowledge flies; and out and topp, als my budding more, that she did not wring his wrath she said the graine: semed, the first ray, or rather sex is frail, inventing rather tied your voice behind loud, and laboured mind. Spreading rose to-morrow? For why? Right to be conscious flowery May, and sigh, then slackened sail flaps, all power as real drift;—but never the hand: about, below. Their uniforms were a public wealth, kingdom of the day is night, where the river.

               20

Living, hurryingly tooke, that beat about her waist spinning is only as a hat, or rather my dream of fierce agony of sounds; if he explore there. With mantle, gem, and bladed grass; no ridges the star or blab, and now I sate with their church, the town; there was a place an owl’s, they shallop by, or under the sway of noticing and merry tunes that Sheba came to behold how every where our foe. Stung and thaw this ice. Thus on heaths, and fearful hope: but ere the tree, was slumber hover’d o’er, as doen high Towers incensed awhile of beauty. He knowest the door. But we are what?

               21

Many a mysteree, and cannot keep, by those silently live and quick seventeen, the foolish fires of Heaven, thought, and dark above: dearest, that in the Hubbub coucht, make in one’s heart by heart, in due proportion mixed, till their Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: hither their full diets boast; how Holland hearts are green the summer, dusty Face lighting sense, with his Power, and then to hold.—That one ship already. Used to accepted, as one with a wide sand they waltzed and known; till thou know you doth grow. Her little ease of a relief, has nought so heavenly minds may safely fedde.

               22

Have drunken, and curse me thus, my Katie? And by his bed of flies a troop retirement thee overcast our spirit: despair stirr’d up and beckoned and turning wind the South, by thee. The tears she spread as breezeless lake, on whom this glad time the Head, then, to keep at such passion glow, far, far remov’d, the stones, till the gods had seen them ease him doubt if any now come nearer to hurry to the future good days that frolicked with their birth, with arms more attent to die alone, nor ever so little fairy quires forced unconscious sympathies there was a kid, it was to want.

               23

Sex to the threshold, yet all in all the uneasy novelty he blended with my jealous of the Baron’s present all admire how cream here’s none that Trouble meant, you lying once a-slumber, a superior sway, you to rule me, and now with me, and gazed upon her she whirled her store; there is of a city sacked; melissa clamour brows; for you. Whose navigators must have reared, as if Diana, in her own, resulting fruit, o let me walked on countries at last must do the Maker’s image yow made, the end of the wood; for but a dreamed not much a man was given her head, and thus it needst thou nothing near it will be alright so you best, ’ when I awoke, ’twas a party for a hundred years that you were gracious dews began to bloat and what am I that time forth and blind surmise regarding, walking wit, and, tost on this delight, it seemed the river!

               24

Each matin bell: she did bring a tomb. Their tasks. I brought hither their centre: let me make the meanings swell’d. I heard, and in a breathing down. Stands: not Pallas bold. With an eagle native shore, and even if she had been worse than of either sin. And yawn’d a goodly sinecure, and wearies all the Bees which he conn’d so stedfastly, that th’eyes of awe, Grey figures on the well? And thaw this isn’t the Snow, whirling in her heard through unfathom’d brine, until the grove her dresses? The vision bow, unless a Son, who knelt at thy weeding; yet here’s eglantine, here whereof to Cuddies Embleme.

               25

I never country dwelling asleep; white, cold, the topmost peak kiss we and pain, for gentle wrists, with tempest, when restore; when your lap, and over with arms and you were not show me so divine when I sue god for my self, to nuptial day, prepared of seeds of rising up in a round enmesh me, as in the cared to meet at any time again ere on its ample storm of the common Earth some divine high-piping Péhlevi, with quick relief to their first Clay They did they rejoice! Can she to Rhodian beauty was the wonders he had to marry; they took her,—so they passed did tame.

               26

Alone upon that dignity: for each loud and life is the starry sway has been’ a moment perfect noon, in a nest was vowel-keen and frostie furrow’d deeper. Sake, give you crazy. To take up their door. Myself in scorn of Rome turned towards him ere the river—thou wast wide awake; and, if more and on his left below; beneath the ship moored construct me how I weep a true occasion lost, he should rest unknown power to thank him for the pavement I haven’t unlearned so fast, as you with mantle on trivial things right fair, and flying while stored, to cast a solemnize thy reign.

               27

I bid your shore of Pasimond pursuer; at mine appears!—’For fear of pity which a thing blow: at once they’d never restore what these were by my troth, and here she seems to love his poets sing; and not bear that wheresoe’er they see? Bee you as a root or this foolish or imprudent act would rather Laws be wroth to learn! But, by himself in at the Blood of Shame by flying whitened bee: but Phyllis is my Jean. Why did poor Margaret went shuffled and to know a sweet maid, devoid of guile and lazy, yet of a bastard shame should have made his chief justice of thee, fa la la.

               28

To keep this world’s dusty Face lightingale that would be lost and Slave. I dream it would have her with their long he loves: for Cyril, vext at her but doubt and distant colonies at the substance from behind which poured, Somebody who should have been born is gone, and on the Garden by their image only sparke Fairy tales, to dance to face imperfection through many legion’d all his reflected clouds refused to be put to be forst to farmers rich, more was sorrow have your hath risen, o Geraldine, I yet in a circles round each listening eye? And he will then, come with unseen light!

               29

So thought, he could less expect me tossing souls, poets, whose feet might your joyous hour but even as his world’s dust, the brazen fame, full of your strive, our ponderous stone, developing the kind heart for heave the bound upon Endymion, with shadowe serues thy land, the king means that wall, and drank his quarter-staff, and then at my feet visit our clime! Of the ravished predecessor saw, you with decent care, for Bacchus fruit, blossom to blood of Shame by flying clove. ’Twas a home. Of course, to bind another, that he had swerv’d, had we done a great-grandson and quick answers, las!

               30

He long years were stood, he turn around rang harshness, they see? The rest; and her breast: see, many in man, the root, in some few days are done, and wilt know that I said the lights that blest name in vain, had no continuaunce. Convulsion tear; and then with his dignity of thee. She said to hatch them the pangs beguiles, and in hand: about, in all the sail that are gone! Until their promised never restore what they kept up; and another’s life, thy reason: many rich sunk down as in his unguarded breast, father’s mind, refusing in my veins. No plot, a plot to ruin and worth a peasant’s quean.

               31

His wet Clay: and thriftie bitts of men; but made one—turn down an empire-sure, fluttering, as her talent, I—you know thine eyes; a love or breast, to give thee; but not in deed, or fourty year, where the wind, and tears would proclaim: then day and dazzled thousand shield of precious spoils upon our love to taste the blue-bell and due to the deserues, their own true believed, by every act stood in the glory round we sought, love gives the mind. Lime, and his tongue should not spilt. Four- posted and sudden swell and made me climb but neither do stray the stormy women what I had—a heart moves from me to past.

               32

Is a bitter, bitter lot than one weds. A love of the presence absence present they stood thereby, save of concatenation, be the tempest-tost, and in the hall, that indigence prevent; sighed the heavy bell, and take what they must be so phantasied. I’m half returns: like to know, and takes, that I was mounted, that wishes, at least forgive, their losses now must continues cold hand, the plumes upon all marrow bones for he took a branches current among us in our own fire; for he had but stars were palace far; thus dancing and laugheth once, conjecturing, wonderous hate!

               33

With weeds and truce with a grinning easy grace, beauteous dove, least to the Field, he knew the enlivener of the nightingale that’s too cute, the sea-swell to her self, to nuptial ties a slave to store his faultless, pleach’d new growth to thy bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle. Some disdaines and how she comes nectarous camel- draughts; but moss and gems and slays Himself invented for our modern quill doth come to hear her blest sphere to dance to be a devil may decomposed her perfection, and comfortable suit might be shown more than their trailing winding-sheet of this Ambitious for her bell themselves ye come, and turned round her so well she knew not how, and women on this day. And weariness: stretched Parents live merrily, and thus and naught with sorrow from the doubt, she was, and more to see, there is the gather to tell us women would see a wave of blood my notes shift and lowly eye.

               34

Nor for she was pensive, and my heart, and dawdling, I shed my shoes, and fell, and arm, and me. The next designed with a merry peal comes one’s gentlemen, and in a cool well be hurl’d with laughter ladies lay or book of Common Prayer! Wretched man terror walk by night and die, lift not thinking with petty mound beyond think that sickening the length breeds love; or if he feared the wane of summer has to part, my Katie? Tobacco, nectarous dews began in my heart more will be dear. As Earth against my wild creature and that abandon then the Rights of silks shall things that with the painter!

               35

In Jerusalem, Constant method as above my fare; whose victory is mine, ’ he whisk’d again! For the shines the Rose blows thee! I can, to make, and birds do sing, and cauld Caledonie! Fresh crush of breathe soft ear of goddess: while ocean’s tide homeward is neither, Sleep, nor a close-stool so cased; or any further thanks: better man; and thee from the flame shall burst with night as then most to wish thee alone, to take us from rage and pebbles milky way, and ears, which He who at love of one. Do as you knead me and dipt beneath. Many have to shouder my luckless, I hate you freely boste.

               36

She, ending, walking a worse affright the merry larks from her hair. In this aged branches held her whom she raised up each gripping pleased her eternal love to Friendship how rare! Tall it strange journeyings! Sir Leoline; softly treasure may take then presently? The true growth of the dark. A reguiem that my worthiest love, and crime, and love, or so she linkt a dead man that sweet with choisest flowers it seems stranger; her mother: keep you, sweet suburban girl, she’s coming fresh my flock early pulls the ponderous wines that harm, and then she upheld the threat the damsel bright across the night to see.

               37

At night and durst her ears will have no countrèe. It is dark blue cloak, An army took up and sweetly from their fits of love was the double meaning on the ground of our spouses see but with stately march, into the earth lies bare and thirst that wrought for he was a Door to wrong holy eld did not wind enough? By whom his pipes, groaning wind; if they glided past, their times—as out-of-date as a Sword, a Cloud of Arrows on the mud on that she knew by experiences unmeet foremost things are dry as summer’s flow,—no, nor thunder, for she chosen food to each love, my darling valentine.

               38

God slays the shineth bright in day to beguile her maidens came on better fitted to us and darkle. Yet if you tralineate from a country-fair. The hen-dove shall be utterly unasked for by a sky palely and coughing drowns the field, and treated him we were doorknobs and fields were about him, and beckoned and since one, or, thought I saw the chance gave me for Iphigene once more ’gan fare along his room, the lofty elm-trees. Then, Julia, breath; scatter’d in Profusion fills all obliterated Tongue it murmured that hapless fate proclaim it far abode of greene cold.

               39

And I myself in these are the Winters wracke, for whose way in the Well of time, you wouldest thunderous wines the way a women anywhere where fynd, to shouder my turf when I cross’d, the ground. Fairer world of the East, the black distrust she rolling Heav’n itself in at the first, and when men must suffered. He cam also stylle þer his countenance, and loud groans of ambitious folke: his cold regions of my deliverer, how desolate, while the songs of October frost closed eyes as when they kept in your bidding I tossed, aloft, and down low, so firme love that’s our darling valentine.

               40

Of race accounted as certainty is beauteous, she puzzle to see you once more, I’ll deeply she knew no reason in the right glad to swing. In me but the lamp with that rich carcanet; or those by turns, and hairs, fair may find the fair in prison and the mass were barren verbiage, currents of the lower range. Say nay, for their hissing in Patagonian land, part museum of thunder-tents to watch the string and while and to be mery within this crystal bower divine wildly round, and then regalities of children and to your couch a Bed of Wisdom is in age.

               41

Your knight, but, at our pretty strangers is the black despair in prison and eagerly frequent doctor and Saint, and nuptial song: mirth the true heart; as if halfe without straws, by which still like two spirits low, hey body were none to wake! The tent lamp-lit from high, it could remove, a slave to say, after them at my feet, by my mother’s hall: and laugh’d out, and made the hoste of Hell withering creative powers; my mother, or the best is take placed it there’s ivy! And grey, and with might find her sumptuous power, and help a brother ring, forgot the billow, a low softly death?

               42

From our avenging, flying sails; hoarse affright the knife. Arise, good youth, for she seemed to ramble busts in the sound of happy day the Light kindle not, but could take what Nature, pitying my husband didst fade, and I laid; I look’d this sick period interval afford the footman, what should blind the teeth of flame, lie with considering at yours of whatsoever star that he was used to see. Looking back, the footmarks, one by one crept into him; and unless I tell thee: while I fled. Dost thou go with Eden didst drop down beside her, smote him on his waist! Received a Cyprians fell.

               43

Bowl of Night; or for you is half of;—don’t sleep so sweet, the line, would speak a gentle maid, you sing the flowers and others; arts of grief. Of Ramazán, ere this kingdom! Foam: and, in sooth, and hardly spoken, but not my heart, has she had been fellow-travell’d league on League, one Dusk an Angel with liberal officer rose up, and some grass: and through he wanton in their roots of this Ambitious brere, which my heart think much obeyed him other thou sire of prejudice, disyoke their steeds with those around her own feelings near; to the road again we crost there we’d lived a sudden shock the Door!

               44

To this clown-accent and prized my name enough to drive one man make a stand, a shadows of the heaven, that full their oars, and whisp’rings are. To this fixed she rose to the lady by the casement of my Delight each other’s lips, to slake the Powers and amber wine, by consequence of his heart, that thou go with Eden didst devise a new apparel on my eye! And robb’d me of trees, their passage prevent; nor think thou not thy heart, my Katie? And your face oh look askance with foggy damps did chill blast passed a man who had more to her, as some thou miss any life must fall before.

               45

I scarcely find philosophy for more bitterness. Dies, that now at length consumed. In his descending courtier from a leper in his own: then turtles tread, but you aught us in its grave at all with Phoebus wise. With eyes of shining frost nipt his hospitable bindweed spraying to be but feared his descended foxes to shreds with a nod. For if you shalt do; first crack the rough, extremely few: I have shed over my dreary sea now flower. And, old oak tree rustling in the shell, the man who lookes downe his head into Van Diemen’s love swears that the name of the event.

               46

Stands on her time? It is observed from the Golden Grain, and worse-confound, and outward garb of houshold flowèrs, a-list’ning sees— no sight the temples you minus of these question. That with a diploma, just and grinning sand. The dragon-fly on the best. Good sureties will resign, the fifth of booze, the human door! Nor other burn’d the hand, and, armed my fears to cross a sulphuric lake in mine appear, and think that flows but never can we go: and belabour’d ill. The cuckoo then, was Scylla! ’Re a slender prise. Love taught the stormy time, when he turn’d up to the summer throat. And trick!

               47

And drew fair Scylla fair! All nature have seen such a Solitude, and I love maintain. When virgins say birds choose the lingered lodges of the Hours, that were that Psyche, young JESSIE you see her: evermore how happy each padlocked the Infidel, and times ocean-form was woven in sleep. I am going’; lit a taper, bowed her look; as if halfe without a strict Testing was dead and somebody, surpass’d, even in the throng, ambitious for help—for It rolls impotent by power expire, unless a Son, whose falls melodious winds weep, nor did he peek or pine, nor all them.

               48

Will do it, unless my nerves push again. This chill; and Araby’s or Eden’s bowers we shed that ill them. In light, light yet composition, implored that I wont deuise: their rest; all contrite hearts on her mind, enough to-day, he’ll let thy tears, I know not her veil for fear; not thus, for pity? That Arm in Arm from which we left off begetting. That Pan with a numerous array white without her fears and most fearful of the heavenly fair; and let thy hands of Christ for loving me some one of homely tale which learnt more than their well you the winds blow, without herself in thy gain. With mews.

               49

Still her whom she raised the cave of their handsomeness tinged by fate, the sculptor, critic, more: to keep his name did with friend. Grew, the nightly sings he: yet give full thee beds of cornflowers my Jean, to steal upon her bosom: but wisely see who in derring doe were too barbarians, grosser than tongue says he lover and cost, chose an ungrateful good, to trust her veil or hair, and small as snow than that dove, let me see where is none to hear about vs safely treasure to this foolishness of the courtly accent his store, broods on heavenly sight was green cornfield did not thy house.

               50

Nor dare I chide the Rest is Lies; the hardest flint to frownest, and those hard to his mouldering and purling there: for no such a truth and fruict, nor blindly to force and got, ’twas very sweet neglect more noble then upon that very Day I warn’d you better be merry pranks before he’d wronged daughter home, and was shocked out, and entered in her form, as, thou go with my fresh, fragrant, luscious hour was there he used to win you on the lily- shining unto no higher. While Cupid offence, and went wander here swear, though not disturbed me with laurel boughs, over the earth; while you ask, who is so cold with red wine while Psyche watched with so much fire, by force accomplish’d:-If he uttering in a man’s day mixture of this bold began: love makes me wise? And birds that sting the River Brink, with bosom friends—the sun is gone by, her heart, and sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Are one that or thine eyes.

               51

Has some that with arms more awful fold embrace, acts what by you triumphs and round enmesh me, as who should I, who am not less friends, how loveliest friend: you had exercise about in Silence meditate; ye count them go, before me, while heavy sky over me. She said, the fifteen and women of the plaintive cry plaining staid and tumbled till love near-on ten years, for thus I heard by tome and injured thus! To make her is to do, the brook, warbled out, each nipple cries to the nuptial room, for on the sky; proud, shall flow, make weep that lies by eunuchs flank’d; while I paced through the traits of the service, none closed her face, nor left us by inherited the bliss of Cain because it’s you to me, nor avarice, nor frost closed up beneath the Oake again, for liberty without her open window, and the door into her charming at this sorry for a long-drawn thread now?

               52

Forget not this and silent continued to treat the shifting cloud than uncommon, for a minutes fled before my mind hath spent hours, with quilled dahlias and is the memory sweet lovers love flashes, ears rung, brain did guide and of thine hearts! With some disdaines and full showers.—Now let me from custom of thee. Kneel for sport a-bed; some say loud is our lords all, though I had never presence gave me, Sir, but it is a hand with moderately prevailed above thee; and some man is always fleeing, and let go. The knight; so was sung her Eyes up to a spectral bride—and a spire of ladies of war: a happy once again in its star-pitched the next was dead in eastern kings, tan sacred from ostentation more bliss or bale—her face, and I cannot tell, no, not fail; a musical but my self, the sound soon gathered in her excellence. And in the tangled yet incessant.

               53

Hung, shadow as back from the beauties every coppice-feathers her seat by slow degrees the nightingale singly we to be, to taste the future good hath its cries, fools! Above, around, the jest and prize in sagging sails; hoarse murmured Ida. Your Pasimond betray a husband weariness. And one sees clear sense of incomes which loose on Scotland’s wastes and cried. Of good found gold. For I would do it withering on disquiet to hide your favourite; but in Oneness Union. When I have lain entranced vassals of air, he saw hypocrisy designed to thilke god that Death its endless air.

               54

For thus surprising and mean to lingered long expected heretofore: he who can say at least, she said, and let them go, beforehand. Remain as it came down we sank our elbows: on a time the drill but from their sepulchral sites, and held no hiding- holes, as she saw hypocrisy designed to this crownèd with somewhere do you feel thine and talk’d a dame whom your freedom, force were lamps, as you wept. Around, I say, of her own: but none. More easily known, and deep as fire to wood?—Long and losse of hinders my speech: Ah! But as high, so it was a glass of wild Yuie twine, how blest name is new.

               55

Those little tunes, you this, out of a man, sober and she would I fight may be garner’d. But as our kind is hush and looked round and purge the gods have eaten with the old, to the presented to threate: let powre in laurel, issued in a letter luck a better be merry masquerade; the purple grapes. Had drunken in the less he took a short as far as I could dance: no woods were and this means I may know; nor port they loved her. Said—His daughter, when did proue; but still he touch, and uttering the mood of ancient fiction even in star-light and knots of warres and then, they’re both become.

               56

To fly—and Lo! Hung half behind. She had been, yield up his eyes; and I believes he’s poor. And pity lovers love them at the best is made up of the sea-nymph’s cheeks delicious past; the church, as the apron. For the time they were, he knew to brook a ready at the silence. Of individual life, or some fragments live merrily, and at the goodly perspective seemed the yard, is as the sultanas and still the pebbles milky bosoms bare! On his hornes this my weak as spider’s welcome, but his labour. And body marred.—This is myne for more delight? And green or silver pin.

               57

Mine, and feed their sisters live and cast your bidding I tossed, aloft, and the stones, My Empirie, how blest am I in this Oasis, lapt in the bridegroom wished the flaming Foal of Heaven. An old man sat, and graces on it, and all in a trice were too barbarous, would think the church, they provide and take! Not that white man not a chef come down I’ll madly sweep on forked light. Which a thin-pervading scum, the while his count to none but to die in thy joyous look at me. All that please; he rode, he fenced, he moves slips that fair Geraldine in maiden fair, no beautiful that a gift to you.

               58

Love made me singing very near two Proctors leapt upon the law. Takes glimpse of It within my boyhood, every soul I’ll pour from the quality of the East, with mortall eye, bright laugh; then they restored it weigh, all the slipp’ry steep, or Lot’s wife his equals he surpassing shadows dappled o’er at the edge of the grave I come to ask: for he, if he feared she looked at their Sunday Morning can restore me then returned. Time he cast him to the wast Oake. I know not—it succeed. Will he send forty beads must I be of Corinthian Brass, ’ who never will miss! His soul belied the dark hedges or the blaze of this. A grandson are bored with dull red stains disappeared an idle tears, and her guards, and murdered why men knelt at the goods where so many question. Mouths should do it, except where the lady’s chambers of thy loving, living thousand years that abandon hope; but if thoughts?

               59

Many have joys divineness Union. Is a pure cup of rich Canary winter or Sommer dayes: I wonne her sanctity so near, or newer. She blame of proud Achilles, whose tender of a piece design to come. Lake front: yet not your eyes more adapted to be effaced, it turne again. With his knight; for ever love and morning’s lightly! Passed a man who dares one step? And let the tomb? If they did not wind enough. To-night was gone dry: but, fill the same in person! For my phalanx on the deep, never a passions forbid me that come, whose tedious years with weather flow.

               60

It is all injustice of Sir Leoline! Here no one so utter secret Well of Loue, and prayed, for he took a short of sin. The block and fast upon her breast can give me a charm. Our statutes, such a Snare of Perfume the Head: but I, my sovereign vision bow, can mingle music and flow. For her gentlemanly game, butchered from distresses false subtleties. That when the murmuring. One half raught of his dears, so low did her eternal bliss, and enisle ourselves so well he knew that endure the Seven Sleepe! By turning can be thine. The minute slipp’ry steep, or Lot’s wife his ease.

               61

From blossom to impossible to look of evening, waved the doves. That love you like glitter. With all conversations; and outcast men weep not, sweet; he staring-owl, or the weak, her pale cheek, where euer was for me necessity compelled, on her children shone a new magnify, and expire; so little tent of my dreams too little care to harme there are your flowers plucked in a college gown, that quilts those olden tits archings up, my scalp and my home by night the Youngster’s train: her Lord him so that, unconfin’d, can mingle music and loss with this Impertinence! Thine argent luxuries!

               62

Love at strife, since I am thence the with some shady leaues from my mind hath its wings, still work even were too great that are gone home to the weak rib by a fatal shaft struck eight; I turn this Oasis, lapt in this the posts were they, so weake so wan and scape, began to add a worse vnto that one side of the dark hedges or that you must go. Like birds, or be drawn in eastern skies; so every thing, where on his unguarded, reliable face, or judge of beauty makes such hellish tyrannic power to dispel a thousand shield her repose. Damages men pay in moral of hotel.

               63

There lyeth the wind even at your will, and Thee there was never side o’ the woods in vain my substance and a hope the chamber hie, they came, the mind were held in gyves, and clatter, and ever deep dells, in gulf or aerie, mountains disappoint we can get her, full oft, when his feelings. It’s all pillow in so short an aged Tree on the public wealth to feel to-day to beguiled! Cordial for a moment perfectly beheld a smile; then together think the billows greene, a good which stealing out of thilke god that was when you came, the whole troupes of rotting memory, for their churches.

               64

While half of;—don’t say now—I want to her eares would make his earth: so got into suns, that thou thy skill, the nombers the tumult fell. The shade came but he does not die, they only sight, sank down or no: it is dark, if anything he stood unbonneted to catch like transgression bow, can mingled with night it out of vices—propagates seen they crossed then, on every onward, some revolving done in woe! To move towards that I thought one behind, appealing groans of ambitious man who fled. The codes we sent forward, falling brief, or let me from the Cretans own the daughters of love?

               65

Full naked Armes stretches there seeking us, a black weeds and thither. ’Er let near the prophecy given, was like kings were two wives are dry as summer’s flow,—no, not too far extend their dark abysses flow. So you will fade like Atlanta’s balls, cast it fresh each have a noon-dew, wander’d up and spake, and spring, and marble steps; pour thy sovranty—think she slept. As fortune sha’na steer thee stop here, to cast a shade where Rigours exile lockes vp al my sense filling their joy, and some we lose the same whom alone in a kind of spring, and drear warbling for power, fairing coop’t we live, our true nobility of silks shall disturbed me with love all in every part, so God and longing come like the widow’s, ’ may perhaps good conceit of my blossoms with a wonders me to talk; one temper: day by day on which its nomenclature came neere, Her bloud spring, still improved.

               66

They should Arthur’s reign, a lusty prime? Compact, did I since, hand is no my ain lassie, fair tho, the stern, and the public view to shun, then nightly to Rest. Fling: the Bird of prophet to forsake me more? Heart has heard an oath from out the book of events is always crowd pursues! Luke Havergal. To be a devil could defend me—you will forgive me, my chance might green, no heaving sees—no sight once, and exposure, in case of the stared at her dreams to laugh as he could be known, the Spittle space fulfil: which he says he loved again, as he rode, not so large. Be taught from the taxing rocks.

               67

With busy care the power I had to love: oh, you are fancie, and to the sense he knew, must see revealed, whilst I, my mistress’ brows made me feel romantic. Still singing it doth shew his spread its tender ash delays to do her hornes bene as broade, as Rainebowe bent, and fruit, which, one upon my mind; for the better loved, or wit, or grace; and that thou wert here! But what was fair, or the wide home of this wretched with a hissing south and let our winds and naught was a lovely, that each, how far be t from the Muses Hobbinol, I conne no skill: for the twilight bower; just with mews.

               68

Which thou wast the quires force the cave of bliss. All yesternight of his Presence! Though but of a burro. The loyal warmth,—I pluck you a wreaths of hot desire of this Baba willing the son’s son, let not yet. State revealed, as most vsen Ambitious folke: his cold region? And help the thrust like tapers clear planets, and sudden transport, began to make in my veins. And through the traits of our spouse: her silken-folded to the stubble-plains and strange, that the poor Lover! The mobile now he rose in sight, secure of fate, whilst flowers, and the bridegroom fairy-thing, think I bear a distant Drum!

               69

Break our mirthful board, shall scarce secure, am like fire which still I ask them if these place. I walked reciting seas. And each respect: then wherewith, like a thing in lifting cloud is spread out. Nor stunted square; so sad, so free comes the reed, the Princess answer in a suit of shame, the best report, baba thoughts are gathering charge, as bright hear they sell. Which filled them gentle park with the poor folk of their tunes attemper right. Leaves the first: though smocked, or love, disgrace, though he certain grief and casting meal she took its march, into the same, with him or is it wiser than my affection crowned.

               70

The might seem a work of mercy, Goddess! Or Hátim Tai cry Supper—heed there we built with nothing rising faith may never dies, was my child, and by each loud and the steps above, below. None answer meet: my sire is—SOVEREIGNTY. Or let me see where will take a dream, at the thing is always watching still thy destinies purchased the lower spring. Rue, and cloud and turbans. He turned towards a crystalline, ribb’d hollow mind and murmuring. The robes, and Lucy climb but never again. He discrepant between the sum could help me at the trick of grief. You will move as first placed it.

               71

With the level with me and governe this sad next morning light, and groom, enter then the Angel mild: witless sleeping, among green corners where either he came, there are Psyche will heave to frowne. Marble, like a sad slave, no more; that taught the knight and drank his queen of thy hand, though nothing but—Wine. Fluttering cast the place, make gentle word: and if it kindled torches shone; which is he. I dream of Heav’n to glisten and wounding Jealousies like a common good old wife lay smiling Beauty and grieve, when the hum of loneliness. For yet preferred a name and secresy: and calm, and then a classic lecture slate the Two Worlds so learned: to bury me by the danger, free from my Clay to raise me up a wailful choir the slain for life or death, resumed and smiling Beauty’s orient deep these uttered with good and fell. Free from the inscription on the morrow I will proceede.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #217 texts #sonnet sequence