#i sold my soul to the company store | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

planetkiimchi · 9 months

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people watching | b.c

no. 4 of my song collection

featuring: producer!chan x ceo!reader, and the rest of stray kids in varying positions in the music industry

word count: 12352

warnings: pg13, quite a bit of swearing, vomit, alcohol, rooftops (?), crying if you don't like that, angst

summary — you’re a hurricane, and chan knows this all too well. you’re the one who crashed into his life on a regular afternoon, bringing him into the middle of an industry he’s always been at the edges of. he would never like to fall in love with his boss, but you’re a lovable tornado, and for all your chaos, both of you still love to sit down and take a break. those who know, call it “people watching”.

playlist. people watching by conan gray ; 18 by one direction ; wolfgang by stray kids ; omg by newjeans ; coping by rosie darling ; dna by lany

a/n: there’s a little bit of … smau hints here. i guess. i’m not really sure what to call it. also, 12.5K words ? that’s so crazy. i wanna thank my beloved @blue-jisungs for beta reading this. i know you had a headache n everything but thank you so so much for your comments n feedback, it def feels so much more polished w your help <3 and as always i hope y'all enjoy!

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

prologue.

Y/N’S MOTHER WAS A MUSICIAN. A few years back, she started up her own business producing records, but after a while the company still wasn't doing that great. As her child, Y/n took an interest in the company and began to start promoting it better.

You found several producers that you enjoyed listening to music from, and with some promotion (and help from your brother Jisung), everything went swimmingly.

By some miracle or other, the company, SFX labels, accidentally went viral on TikTok. You had Jisung to thank for that, because he was the one who had found Seungmin to manage the online presence of the company. People started taking an interest in your company, and you built up your brand on finding indie music makers and making them big.

Jisung also helped to find amateur musicians or producers with potential, and trained them, teaching them how to become better at their craft.

However, over time and as the company grew, you found your position growing more and more mundane. Your work was boring at best, soul-sucking at times, and you found yourself wondering how you went from passionately enjoying your work to the place you were at.

Your mother suggested you take a break, and you decided to wander around "Lonely St.". It was a little alleyway near your old residence, and was so fondly called because it was a narrow street where many beginner indie musicians frequented. Shops that sold music albums and instruments lined the street. Often shaded, the street was safe from crowds and human traffic was low.

When you were younger, you had often gone there with your mum on visits to see the producers and musicians there. While she tried to strike a deal with them, you would busy yourself with the gadgets and music paraphernalia. Some were expensive, but that was just how music was.

Everyone there was friendly and as you grew into your early twenties, you used to go there for inspiration, bringing home your ideas and channeling them into music. Sometimes your mother would help you develop it, leading to the songs stored on your laptop for nostalgia.

Seeking to rekindle your passion for music, you headed over to Lonely St. and went into the second shop, one with posters tacked up on the wall.

The store was silent, but not eerily so. Instead of cobwebs and dust covering the room, it was all colourful band posters and stickers, all the records neatly stacked up in piles. You barely had enough space to walk, but it only felt cozy, and not too crowded at all.

The decor reminded you of a gothy teenager's room, instruments hidden in the corners and the soft humming of a song playing through the speakers, lyrics indiscernible. Among the magazines and albums you found a man hidden deep inside his work, frowning in concentration.

You cleared your throat and he looked up; you recognised him vaguely but didn't dare to ask. It had been years since you had come to the store, surely he wouldn't remember you from his time working there.

He didn't recognise you, nor did he know that you were now the CEO of a music producing company.

He greeted you in a friendly manner, but looked clearly agitated as he wanted to get back to his work. You dismissed him with a wave, telling him to concentrate on his music while you browsed through old records of musicians you had grown up listening to.

Time passed differently in places like that. Secluded, detached from the outer world, it was so easy to get lost in the dusty archives of history. Songs told tales people didn't understand, like a language with familiar sounds, yet indiscernible the more one tried to listen to it.

In liberal spaces like that, with light filtering through the cluttered windows, you barely realised that two hours had passed. The labyrinth of songs had you hooked, and you would have stayed there all day if you could. You picked up an old CD of an album you vividly remembered playing at your eighteenth birthday party, and picked it up to ask if the man could put it on for a bit.

However, he looked engrossed in his work and you didn't want to disturb him. He worried his lip and tilted his head, groaning softly in frustration. Clearly what he was doing wasn't working for him. You didn't want to disturb him; you knew he would be annoyed, but you needed to go home soon.

You carefully placed the CD case in your hand back down; startled by the sound he glanced up suddenly, realising how silent the store was without the rustling sound of you browsing through the endless albums.

"How may I help you?"

You were tempted to ask him to play you his song, but that might be like intruding on a private part of his soul. You would know how it felt.

You fumbled in your purse for a business card. Would that be too odd? To go, "Hey, I run a company, I think your music would be great even if I haven't heard it yet"? Because you somehow had the gut feeling that he would be perfect, and you knew your instincts never failed you.

You shook your head and dismissed those thoughts. You didn’t want to make him feel awkward. Instead, you decided to buy the record, and the man proudly showed you that it had been signed by the singer.

“It’s a little more expensive, though, because of that. That’s why it hasn’t been bought yet,” he told you sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s fine. I don’t mind spending a bit more.”

He clearly expected you to change your mind when he showed you the price, although you knew from experience that signed records tended to sell for much more, so you were already prepared.

It was, after all, a small price to pay for the discovery of the man himself.

HE FREQUENTED YOUR THOUGHTS for the next week. Even buried in work, with papers piling up for you to sign, projects waiting to be approved, people looking to sign with your label, and managers looking to clear the policies on dating for the singers under them, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The mysterious song producer who made music on the side while he ran a music store along Lonely St. had caught your eye, and was not likely to leave your mind anytime soon.

You really wanted to get to know him better, but you had no time. Besides, people didn’t often go to stores with strangers to buy expensive items. Usually, they would go once they’d established a rapport with the people there. Lonely St. was there for the community, not just the things they sold and the treasure trove of advice and ideas the people harboured.

You tapped your fingers against the table impatiently as someone knocked on your door. You glanced at the clock and sighed. If you could, you would have liked to get off work early, but it was still two hours before your official working hours ended.

“Come in,” you called.

Your assistant, Seungmin, entered the room. Looking around at the mess of papers that lay on your table, he sighed loudly and obviously.

“What?” you asked defensively.

“I sent the papers in neatly, organising them by manager and then group or singer in order of importance and urgency. I even had different stacks of folders for projects, people looking to sign with us, and policy issues. And you just leave them strewn around? You really don’t appreciate my effort, do you?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Sorry, Seungmin. Promise I'll get to filing them away later. I'm just not in the mood right now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this because you have too much work? I heard you went to Lonely St. last week. Was the break too short?”

You nod unhappily. “I really want to go back, I think I stumbled across a real gem there. I saw someone making music and I'd love to hear it, he sounds like he’d be great for our label and I want to know what kind of concept he would fit.”

“But?”

“But he’s a stranger! I daren’t ask, you know how I get about these sorts of things.”

“Hm.” Seungmin looked through his phone, then smiled at you. “Well, I think you’re in luck. Jisung just texted me about going to Lonely St. to ‘run some errands’. He said he’d go with Minho-hyung, but he’s busy with work too. I could fit it in your schedule if you get all of this organised for me to return to everyone who’s waiting for it.”

You nod. “That sounds good. So, is tomorrow too soon?”

“No,” Seungmin said, taking it down. “Enjoy yourself, Y/n-ssi.”

“Thanks, Seungminie.”

SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED where Jisung got his upbeat personality from. Personally, you were a very chill person, and both you and Jisung were introverts, like your mother. Your father was more outgoing, but none of you were particularly high in energy besides Jisung.

It was quite intriguing, you mused to yourself, humming quietly as you waited for Jisung to arrive. You were early, but you couldn’t disguise your excitement. You’d finally get to meet the man again! Hopefully, he would be there and not somewhere else. Many of the shop owners took turns hiring different part-timers looking for a side job to make a bit of money while they sought an agent or company willing to take them.

Fortunately for you, Jisung was a lucky charm. You went with him to pick up a few magazines for him to decorate his room. Ever since he was a teenager, he’d been a collector of photos, and whenever a magazine cover featured his favourite artists, he couldn’t help but to buy it to add it to his collection.

His room was filled with posters and magazines, but somehow it hadn’t turned away any of his friends or lovers.

Once you’d picked up what Jisung wanted, you dragged him by his wrist to the store named ‘St(r)ay Away’. You loved the play on words, and that was what had drawn your mother in as well when you first went there.

Behind the counter was the man you’d been looking for. He was tapping away at his computer, mouth pursed in concentration. He glanced up when the ringing bell sound signalled your entrance, and smiled at both of you, eyes lighting up when he caught sight of Jisung.

“Ah, Jisung, hello! Good to see you again. I see you’ve got new magazine covers?”

Jisung grinned proudly. “Yep! Look, Twice-sunbaenim even did an interview inside! I can’t wait to read it when I get back.”

The man nodded. “And this is…?”

“My sibling, Y/n! they brought me here, actually. Y/n, are you looking for something?”

“You,” you blurted out, staring incredulously at the man. Seriously, what was it with Jisung and his charm? You could never have made friends with someone the way Jisung did.

“Chan?” Jisung asked you, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, nothing. I was just surprised to see him again. I came here last week, and spoke with him when getting my album. I was particularly interested in what song he was arranging.”

“Oh, that. I was just working on a few songs for myself. I'm looking to release them, but I haven’t found anyone to help me with that yet,” Chan explained.

“You know you can always sign with us, hyung.”

“I don’t know if I'd fit your concept. And your label is so big! I might be overshadowed and I wouldn’t like that.”

“Jisung’s right,” you interject. “You’re welcome to sign with us, if you’d like. here’s my business card, in case you’d like to speak with me instead of—” you looked Jisung up and down— “this fool.”

Chan stifled a laugh, taking the card from your hands with a slight bow of his head. “I'll consider it.”

“And send me a song or two! I'd love to listen to what concept you have going on so I can match you with someone who understands your creative vision.”

Chan bowed his head again. “Nice meeting you, Y/n. And thanks for dropping by, Jisung. See y’all next time!”

SEUNGMIN RAPPED IMPATIENTLY on the door. He didn’t even wait for you to invite him in, which was odd because on normal days Seungmin did at least have the manners and the dignity to wait for your reply before barging in. He might have had a tongue that was quick to lash out and a well-hidden sailor’s mouth, but he wasn’t often rude in terms of entering.

“It’s Minho-hyung,” he managed breathlessly. “I had to run up because the lift wasn’t working, but that’s the message I got downstairs. Minho-hyung’s back in town.”

You swiveled around in your chair and raised an eyebrow skeptically, gesturing for Seungmin to sit and catch his breath, all the while humming as you thought about what this could mean.

Minho was your and Jisung’s childhood best friend. You grew up together, and your fathers played music together on the weekends, while you kids got together for a marshmallow-roasting by the fire. You knew everything about Minho that there was to know about him, and one thing about him was that he simply could not settle down.

He had spent five or six years as a dance teacher by now, having started out young. He was always restless, and it had been you who had suggested he go to a dance lesson with you. Ballet had left a terrible impression on him but a couple years later he did pick up contemporary in school.

He later expanded his repertoire to street jazz and hip hop, and more specific skills like popping and waacking. Two years back, Jisung had invited him to join SFX labels as a choreographer, and each one of his dances had outdone the previous one.

But the thing was… Minho never grew out of his restlessness. Even as a young adult, he itched to move about – not just in a physical manner like dancing but on a larger scale, like travelling around. It was lucky for him that he was tall enough and looked good, so you could sign a contract with him as a model under SFX labels. He then had the opportunities to fly around the world and sightsee, all the while earning money and enjoying himself.

It was a really good deal, if you could say so yourself. Perhaps not something that would suit your taste, but to each their own.

Since he had signed on as a model and you stayed in Korea to manage SFX labels, you hadn’t been able to meet up with Minho at all. So him coming back to Korea? That was quite the news.

Besides, Minho knew how to make an entrance. He wasn’t one for blitzy and glammed up spectacles, but he knew how to do just enough to make heads turn and subtly draw the attention of everyone in the room to himself. He brought his own spotlight wherever he went, and this instance was no exception.

It was interesting that Minho had chosen now to come back, because in two weeks’ time, your company was having a party to celebrate its 5-year anniversary. Your entire family would be there, of course, and even your father, who liked to keep a low profile, would probably have to clean up and make appearances. Just to keep up the reputation.

You hummed away, lost in your thoughts. Seungmin’s breathing eased and you turned to him. “Is he free?”

Seungmin shook his head regretfully. “I’ve already asked Minho when he arrived. He said he was busy, but he would definitely meet you at the company event. Specifically, Minho wanted to be your plus-one.”

You tilted your head to the side. Minho as your plus-one? That was funny. Usually that would imply that you had some sort of higher rank than him, and although you technically did, he was still older than you by a year and had held that over you throughout your entire life. Besides, Minho had his own invitation. In fact, he should be bringing someone you hadn’t met before as his plus-one.

You and Jisung usually went as each other’s plus-ones, that way you couldn’t get into any dating rumours but you also wouldn’t look like lonely old people with no friends. You were each other’s best friends… or at least that’s what you thought.

If Minho wanted to change things up, you weren’t going to object. It was time Jisung got an official date, anyway. Wasn’t he sick of only ever having lovers for a month? This would be a good change for everyone.

You nodded at Seungmin, right before a notification flashed on your screen. Seungmin excused himself while you clicked on the notification curiously.

You immediately clicked on the files, regretting it only a little. Sure, you had more work to do, but they wouldn’t be as interesting as what Chan had sent you.

As expected, Chan’s demo-style sample got you engaged and hooked right from the start. He was very intentional in his use of unconventional sounds (did you just hear someone growl? You hoped not), and it was something refreshingly new from the constant lull of K-pop producers chasing trends.

It was raw, and clearly written just for him. It wasn’t really polished the way one cleaned up their works when they wanted to send them to someone. It felt like a first draft, something that definitely had potential but was still in the works.

You couldn’t tell if the lyrics were meant to be changed later on but you didn’t want him to tweak it much. You enjoyed the use of both English and Korean (though you had to admit, your English wasn’t very good, so you had to search up some of the words he used) and the style of the rhyming. His vocals were good, but not polished-strong. It sounded a bit husky, but he could definitely carry a tune and hit the notes he wanted to.

And the rapping definitely caught your attention. Of course you had heard good rappers before, but Chan just stood out somehow. Maybe it was the tone of his voice or his flow, but something was just… different. And you liked that.

You didn’t know if you had anyone available who could match his style, though, and you told Chan that.

You immediately dialed Seungmin to let him know how things had turned out, and asked him to send your apologies to Minho, and ask him to go with Jisung instead. It was definitely going to be an eventful party.

YOU NEEDED SEUNGMIN. Or Jisung. Or even Minho. Just someone to keep you grounded. The party was too busy and too noisy and you were finally starting to understand why your father preferred to stay at home and chill, because it was absolutely suffocating.

Conversations were happening everywhere, and polite greetings streamed out of your mouth without a second thought. You had to bow to many people but you could barely remember their names, even though you had seen them plenty of times before.

You breathed heavily in and out and your eyes scanned the crowd for Jisung. Where was he? How was he? Would he be able to take over for you while you found somewhere to rest for a bit?

A hand tapped your shoulder and you whirled around, catching sight of a familiar face. Chan. A wave of relief washed over you, and you grabbed his extended hand for support and shook it.

“Glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” he replied. “Are you alright? You look flushed.”

You shook your head. “No, I need to get away from here. But first, I need to find Jisung.”

Good things must come in series, because you finally spotted Jisung in the crowd, chatting happily away. Your social energy was drained but considering Jisung’s wasn’t, you should be okay to leave the scene for a bit.

“Ji,” you told him softly in his ear. “I need some fresh air, I’ll pop out for a bit.” He nodded absently and you caught sight of his jacket on a chair. “And if you’re not using this, can I borrow it? I’ll return it to you later.” He nodded and waved you off, his conversation never pausing for even a second.

You slid your hands in the jacket, grateful that you and Jisung were of about the same size. It fit like a glove, and was warm enough for you to head outside with Chan, onto the balcony.

The balcony was empty save for one person, gazing out across the wide expanse of Seoul onto the streets, brightly lit by streetlights. A whoosh of cool air hit your face, a breeze whistling past your ears. You quickly shut the door behind Chan, and he hovered behind you, unsure what to do.

The person in question turned, and your eyes met Minho’s. He was as tall as you remembered, gaze as clear and sharp as it was in your memories. He held his arms out and you collapsed into his embrace, warm and inviting around you. “I missed you,” you murmured.

“Me too.” He got down from the ledge and pulled out a chair for you to sit, finally seeming to notice Chan’s presence.

“Oh. Minho, meet Chan. Chan, meet Minho.” You stretched your lips in a nervous smile as Minho gave Chan a once over. You had seen Minho do that before, and it was the most nerve-wracking thing ever. He would slowly trail his eyes down your figure, analysing every piece of clothing you owned, your jewellery, your makeup if you had any, your smile, your eyes, your hands, even the shoes you were wearing.

And, if he deemed you worthy, he would nod. You would sigh in relief, of course. That was only polite.

Chan, however, didn’t seem to get the memo. He cocked his head as Minho swept his gaze over him and smiled when Minho nodded, proffering his hand for Minho to shake. Minho took it, and you—of all people—sighed in relief.

You gestured for Chan to sit opposite you, and Minho drew himself a chair next to you, crossing one ankle over his knee and leaning back languidly. It almost looked like a challenge to you, but Chan didn’t take the bait.

“Soo…”

You quickly became engrossed in your discussion with Chan, who, to his credit, ignored Minho for the most part and stayed completely focussed on what you were saying. You managed to discuss a price he was willing to work for, and agreed that he would release a mini album by the end of four months, with the help of one of the agents whom you’d convinced to clear her schedule.

Chan was very agreeable, only offering a different opinion when it came to his work style. He said he preferred to work in “St(r)ay Away” rather than in the studios you had, claiming that the “people watching” was good for inspiration.

You always wanted to give your artists creative freedom and control over their work environment as far as possible, so you promised to make the necessary arrangements.

Tapping on the glass interrupted you, and you turned your head at the same time as Minho to see an eager Jisung waving excitedly at both of you. Minho got up, engulfing you in another hug.

“Don’t drink too much,” he murmured. “Try not to do stupid shit. Yes, you’re a consenting adult, and no, that doesn’t make you immune to the influence of alcohol.” You nodded obediently and patted him on the back before he hurried off, anxious to catch Jisung before he got lost among the crowd again.

You sat back down and watched Chan out of the corner of your eye. As you talked with Minho, he had watched you carefully as well, noting the soft, protective tone that Minho spoke with and the ease with which you agreed. He had pulled his phone out of his pocket and began furiously typing away, humming to himself as he did so.

Curious, you thought. That was what you did when you got inspiration as well.

The lights inside seemed to get brighter as the night sky darkened, the stark contrast drawing your attention to it. You noticed Changbin, your ex, who was dancing with Jeongin, Hyunjin and Felix on the dance floor. They were having the time of their lives, finally having some freedom under your label after transferring.

The freedom in question was demonstrated when the first thing Changbin had done was to ask you to be his significant other. You probably shouldn’t have agreed but you were young, stupid and in love.

He was handsome and a good rapper but most importantly, he was kind and respectful towards women. He was also funny when he wanted to be, and all in all it had really sealed the deal for you. Only after the rumours and scandals started to threaten both of your careers, had you given in to the pressure and broken up. There were no hard feelings, but residual attraction remained.

You bid goodbye to Chan, who was already engrossed in his own thing again. He followed you back into the warmth of the building, only to settle down in one of the comfortable chairs and busy himself with his own things.

Hesitantly, you made your way towards Changbin. Although it was a company event, it wasn’t very uptight and controlled, so there were drinks being served and music being played. It was almost midnight and the mood had clearly shifted towards a more energetic, crazy mood, and Changbin was very much at home.

When he finally saw you, the world fell silent. Your breath hitched in your throat as you waited nervously for his response. Everything else had fallen away, and for a moment it was just the two of you existing in the continuum of time.

“Y/n!” He called, hugging you tightly. “It’s so good to see you again.” You greeted each of the members politely, and Hyunjin stared at you, mouth agape.

“And here I was thinking the Biny/n crumbs twitter account was the only way I could see the two of you interact again.” You rolled your eyes at Hyunjin’s sassy remark, inwardly comforted by his (however backhanded) welcoming words.

“Let’s get some drinks and talk,” Changbin suggested, and you followed mindlessly as he ordered drinks for both of you—a margarita on the rocks for you—and you sat down, amazed that he still remembered what you liked after all that time.

It was so easy to fall back into step with Changbin, it almost felt like no time had passed at all. He was still the same cheerful, positive person who had so much going on in his life. You, on the other hand, were still the one who lent a listening ear, shaking your head exasperatedly when he told you of the shenanigans he had been up to.

Of course, the two of you drank, and drank, and drank. He told you a funny story, and you drank out of a need for your hands to be occupied. You told him of your troubles, and you drank to drown your negative thoughts, he drank out of solidarity. He told you of the injuries he had sustained, you told him to be more careful. He laughed. “Yolo!” Both of you drank.

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. That’s what they said, wasn’t it? It must have been true because you would not have been able to catch up with Changbin for so long if you had been sober. The conversation would have dwindled when it came to a sensitive topic, and the atmosphere would have grown awkward.

But it was easier when you were drunk. Everything seemed to spill out of you like the liquid courage you were consuming, and no barriers remained to hold anything back. It flowed and it flowed, words that you would never had uttered if you still possessed any form of sobriety.

Changbin must not have noticed, because he did not comment. You were both too flushed and too drunk to form any kind of coherent thought, and the only thing you wanted when the world started spinning was to get away from everything. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and Changbin stumbled after you.

However, he was too drunk to walk straight, and was quickly taken away by Hyunjin with an apologetic smile towards you. You didn’t see it, consumed only by the bile in your throat and the swimming of your vision.

You went to the bathroom, only making it as far as the one meant for wheelchair-bound persons when you collapsed over the toilet bowl, unvoluntarily regurgitating your previous meal.

The taste of mushed up food remained in your mouth, the acid burning your throat. You looked at yourself in the mirror and you sighed, rinsing whatever was left out of your mouth and washing your face. You also removed any of the minimal makeup you had applied to make yourself look presentable.

Your eyes looked smaller, and you could now see the imperfections on your face, but at least you were authentic. Right?

You pushed the door open (it had closed by itself) and almost slammed it in Chan’s face.

There he stood, arms hanging awkwardly by his side, watching you with concern. You wobbled, and his arms subconsciously stretched out to catch you. You leaned onto him for support and he tried to help you walk away from the toilet.

“Where do you want to go?” Chan asked you worriedly. “You really don’t look good, Y/n-ssi. I think you should go home.”

“Mm… Can’t. Need to find… Jisung. He’ll know what to do,” was all you managed before you passed out, slumped in Chan’s arms.

Fuck. Chan stared at you, completely flabbergasted. What should he do? He had never had to deal with drunk bosses before. Sure, he had dealt with his fair share of drunk friends, but never someone who was superior to him in rank, much less a stranger whom he had just met a few weeks ago.

He decided to bring you back to Jisung, when Minho spotted him.

Minho’s eyes hardened and his smile disappeared into a thin line when he spotted Chan holding your body, leading you away from the gender-neutral bathroom meant for wheelchair-bound people.

He had been talking to Jisung and catching up with Jeongin and Felix, finally loosening up as the evening progressed, and Chan just happened to be in his line of sight.

And, of course, you. Of course you had ignored what he had told you and gotten drunk and blacked out. Of course you ended up in the arms of a man he didn’t know, whom you had been talking to when the night was still young. And best of all, of course you had to be dragged out, unconscious, from a bathroom. Who knew what could have happened to you inside the bathroom?

“Ji,” he called once, loud enough for Jisung to hear, before he made his way over to you, all but snatching you from Chan’s arms.

He shifted you in his arms so he could comfortably carry you, bridal style, glaring at Chan. “I don’t really know who you are, but if I find out you’ve done anything to Y/n, you’re a dead man.”

Jisung rushed over to his side, his smile falling off his face when he saw what was happening. “Chan-hyung? Minho-hyung? Anyone would like to fill me in?”

“I saw him with Y/n, dragging their unconscious ass out of a toilet. Who knows what he’s done to them,” Minho replied viciously before Chan had a chance to answer.

“Chan-hyung… seriously? I thought you and them were just friends,” Jisung said disappointedly. Chan tried to defend himself, but both Minho and Jisung turned their backs on him, Minho pressing his forehead to yours as he carried you out to Jisung’s car.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up to natural light streaming in through the windows, and the delicious smell of pancakes wafting in from the kitchen. You hurriedly dressed and got out of the room, spotting Minho and Jisung whispering to each other urgently as they sat at the table, clearly waiting for you to make an appearance.

“Morning.”

“Morning. I tried to tell Minho-hyung you were old enough to deal with a hangover yourself, but he just wouldn’t listen.” You looked carefully at Minho: at his disheveled hair, his bloodshot eyes, and the messy creases in his suit from the night before. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

As if reading your mind, Jisung explained, “He sat by your bed all night, afraid you would wake up and have some horror story to tell about last night. He didn’t sleep at all.”

Poor Minho. He definitely needed his beauty sleep, but it was alright because he was pretty either way. You checked your phone; luckily Jisung had had the presence of mind to help you charge it and you had received several messages. A couple were from your parents, telling you to sleep well and let them know if anything had happened, and from Seungmin, Hyunjin and Changbin, in that order, asking if you were okay. Seungmin also asked if you were coming for work or calling in sick. The last one was from Chan. He asked if you were okay, if Minho was mad at him, and if you were going to reconsider the deal. He’d understand if things had changed, he said.

You told him it was still on and Seungmin would deal with the logistics. You replied to everyone, explaining that you were fine and thanking them for their worry. You told Seungmin you’d be late but not to any meetings. You’d be there in an hour, you said.

You told Jisung that you needed a lift. He told you to take your things and he’d meet you in the car once he took his keys.

Minho watched you blankly, too tired to function. You tilted his chin up to get a good look at him, sighed when you saw the bags under his eyes, pressed a kiss to his forehead and thanked him for bringing you home; for noticing you passed out even when there were so many other people there blocking you from his sight.

He returned your smile tiredly. “I’ll always be there for you. We agreed, remember?”

You did.

WORK WAS SO DRAINING, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. You would give anything to leave the room and the discussion, and the meeting being about the most mundane things ever was not helping. Obviously you understood the importance of market share and dealing with your competitors, but you were not in the mood to listen to the board’s insistence on rebranding or some other form of expanding your target audience.

Was this what corporate life was like? Because you definitely weren’t cut out for it. Your eyelids were drooping and you were dangerously close to collapsing on the table if it weren’t for the caffeine running through your veins.

Seungmin had greeted you with coffee that morning, “under Minho’s orders” to make sure you weren’t too hungover and also to keep you awake. It helped keep the headache at bay, and you thanked Minho.

He hadn’t replied yet, so you assumed that he had finally gone to get his beauty sleep, glad that you hadn’t asked him to drive you that morning.

One of the board directors was talking your ear off, and you had almost forgotten about Chan. At least, until he clocked in for work, claiming to have “reached his studio”. It was accompanied with a goofy selfie of him at St(r)ay Away.

You were confused by how comfortable he seemed to be with texting you and also his excitement to get to know you, which showed through his messages. But it was cute, and you were starting to warm up to him.

Chan was insane. He sent you a picture of the progress he had made and you were glad you could be there to keep him accountable. You ran a company and you couldn’t do that for everyone. But then again, you didn’t personally recruit everyone, and not everybody helped get you out of a creative slump. So you supposed you could make exceptions when it came to Chan.

He shot you a quick text, saying “going home now! you should too 🥱” and the corners of your lips lifted in the smallest of smiles. It was only something small, but the gentle reminder to take a break and not to overwork yourself made your day.

Still grinning like a fool, you dialed Seungmin’s desk and told him to go home as well, a skip in your step as you made your way to Minho’s car. Since the company event, he said he wanted to drop you off at work and pick you up to keep you safe. (How crazy that he cared for you more than Jisung did; Jisung didn’t give enough fucks to give you a lift to and from work.) In return, you offered for him to stay at your and Jisung’s place, and he took up residence in the guest room.

He opened the door for you, asking you about your day. You told him of all the boring administrative things, keeping to yourself the texts that Chan had sent you. They were just a one-time thing, you thought to yourself. Sooner or later, the novelty of texting you would be lost, and Chan would not check in with you anymore.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

Chan continued to text you about your day every day for the time period leading up to the release date for his album, for which a name was pending. He didn’t seem to send you any more songs after that, which you sorely missed.

He probably didn’t dare to overstep his boundaries, which you understood. But you didn’t want him walking on eggshells every time he interacted with you. So one day, you impulsively told Chan that you could be a beta listener for his songs if he wanted to send them to you. You didn’t do that for everyone, because you’d be a very busy person, but Chan’s music style appealed to you. Plus, you were constantly intrigued by what was going on in that head of his.

When Chan sent you four songs that he was planning to put in his album, you were pleasantly shocked by how he seemed to be outdoing himself. Having a purpose and a cohesive theme across several songs allowed him to express himself better, and when giving him feedback, you found that you were genuinely excited for his release.

You checked your email for any updates from his agent or his manager, and entered the release date on your calendar. You wanted to be free on that day so you could congratulate him in person.

You were thinking about this as you exited your car from the passenger side, Minho coming out from the driver’s side. For the month that he had been in town so far, he had consistently driven you to work every single day. You joked that not only was that the longest amount of time he’d ever spent in one place, it was also the commitment that he’d stuck to for the longest time.

Sleepily, you laid your head on Minho’s shoulder and sighed tiredly. You really wanted to go home. The real reason that you were hanging on through all those boring meetings was that you were looking forward to Chan’s release, and you had to keep the company going for that to happen.

It was funny. Ever since you had visited “St(r)ay Away”, you felt like something was missing. It had been a brief but much-needed reprieve and without that feeling of “wow, this is what music is supposed to sound like”, you felt a sense of emptiness.

The sense of emptiness continued throughout the entire day, only intensifying when you were in the presence of Jisung’s “partners” (whom you greatly disagreed with). Their creative vision of the company was going to absolutely destroy all your morals and everything you stood for as a CEO. You wanted to promote small groups, give artists freedom in their music and emphasise on uniqueness, not follow the same concepts that were “trending”.

You didn’t care if it wasn’t as financially beneficial as the marketing gimmicks the partners had thought up, you wanted to stay true to your family and your own ideas. Besides, in the long run, were they really going to priorities their monetary gains over the mental health and the passion of the artists?

Clearly, they had no qualms about squashing the creative ideas that their artists had. “They’re i-doll-s for a reason,” one of them even joked. Jisung looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t speak out.

Annoyed with your brother and everyone in the room, you looked down at your watch and found that it was time to go home. Telling Jisung to deal with it but not make any decisions yet, you took your leave.

The door swung open and somebody stumbled back. You quickly stepped out and shut the door, coming face to face with Minho and Chan.

“Oh. Hi,” you said, forcing a smile onto your face as you looked at Chan. You hadn’t gotten your daily selfie that day, and you’d texted Chan about it, but he hadn’t read your text for the whole day.

When you turned to Minho, you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch ever so slightly. His tell. “Minho? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, trying to casually brush it off. But you knew him better than that, and you weren’t just going to let it slide. Recalling the way he had been looking at Chan when you first turned to him, you deduced that it must have been related to Chan.

Speaking of which, why was Chan in the building? You and he had already agreed to let him work in his store, why had he specially come down to SFX Labels, and why today of all days?

As if reading your mind, Chan rushed to explain, “For some reason, my agent disagrees with your idea for me to release a solo album. He wanted me to produce music for I.O.U. because he and the manager are friends. I had to set up a meeting with the managers and producers, which wasn’t great. The members were friendly, but the producers were terrible. They couldn’t agree on whether they liked the music or not and constantly bickered the whole time I was there. The concept, style, and even the lyrics of their previous songs were completely different from mine, so I really wonder whose idea it was to invite me.”

You shrugged. “Stupid people are everywhere. Contrary to popular belief, I can’t be responsible for the actions of every individual under the label.”

The muscle in Minho’s jaw loosened, and he let out a snort. “You’re pretty stupid sometimes, too.”

“Not as stupid as Jisung, hopefully.”

Minho grinned. “Not as stupid as Jisung.”

CHAN KEPT HIS DISTANCE from you and Minho, close enough to keep you in his sight but far enough not to hear your conversations. Leaning tiredly on a wall, he looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

He hadn’t told you, but he thought Jisung had driven you to work in the morning when he spotted you getting out of the car. He was just about to go over and say hi to his favourite Han siblings, but got cold feet when he saw you resting your head on Minho’s shoulder. He was half thrown off by Minho’s constant affection towards you, half thrown off by how cold Minho was towards him.

Remembering Minho’s glare and his hug to you and how upset he had been finding Chan carrying your drunk self away from a public restroom, Chan had hesitated, finally deciding to just go in and not greet the two of you.

When he left the studio that evening, he was both exasperated and frustrated. He had wanted a creative, collaborative experience, not an argument he felt the need to mediate. That was why he preferred to work alone in a (mostly) quiet place and he regretted listening to his agent instead of consulting you.

He had been engrossed in his unhappiness, not watching where he was going. He hadn’t texted you that morning because of the Minho incident, and you had asked him about it. Chan had just been about to reply with two selfies (one to make up for it and one for the end of work) when he crashed into Minho. Minho and Chan both immediately apologised, Chan bowing in greeting to his senior, when Minho recognised him.

It was difficult to ignore the daggers Minho was sending his way, especially when Chan got the idea Minho didn’t have the best impression of him.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah,” Chan grimaced. “It’s me.” Minho didn’t look too happy. He would probably have given Chan a piece of his mind. Chan was readying himself for a “stay away from Y/n, you don’t deserve her” kind of spiel when, luckily for Chan, you walked out of the door, almost crashing into him. Again.

He kept quiet while you laughed with Minho, pressing his lips together and trying not to think about how it would feel if you were to have that kind of banter with him. Would he even be able to say something funny like that to you or would he turn into a stammering, blushing mess?

It was hard to tell.

But one thing was for sure. You and Minho had a dynamic that was hard to replicate, and he didn’t want to cross any boundaries. Even if they weren’t set in stone or clearly spelt out, he didn’t want to ruin whatever you had going on with Minho. He decided to remain civil with you, continuing to text you but never making a move.

After all, he didn’t stand a chance against Minho.

IT HAD BEEN THREE MONTHS. Three months since Minho’s arrival in Seoul and he was still there. You couldn’t believe it.

Every morning, you awoke from your bed (trying not to wake Jisung up on his side of the room, he had moved in to make space for Minho), and you tiptoed over to Minho’s room, fully expecting it to be empty.

You would have been less surprised to see an empty, cleaned out room with no evidence that Minho had ever been there, with maybe a short note that said “Goodbye. Don’t miss me too much” than what was happening.

It was early in the morning and Minho was still fast asleep, but still very much there. Physically present. It was such a shock to you and it was probably the longest time that Minho had ever been in one place, besides when he was too young to travel.

He must have had a sixth sense, because after about a minute or so of you staring at him to confirm that he wasn’t going to disappear magically, he sleepily blinked his eyes open and caught sight of you.

“Morning,” he mumbled, the corners of his lips lifting up into a smile.

“Good morning. Do you want me to make ramyeon or are you content with just the bread from yesterday?”

“Ramyeon sounds good,” he replied.

As Minho changed his clothes, you headed to the kitchen to make ramyeon. You were still half asleep, barely going through the actions, and when you set the bowl of noodles onto the dining table, you were caught off guard by Minho’s excited smile.

“What is it?” You asked suspiciously. Knowing Minho, he only smiled like that before he was about to play a prank on you, or when he was up to something sneaky.

“I think we should go to an open class,” Minho said, face impassive. He fought to keep his composure as he watched the struggle of emotions flashing across your face.

“What, like learn a dance? Together with a bunch of strangers?”

“Basically, yeah. I found this place and I’ve already booked it a while back. It’s pretty crowded sometimes so I decided to ask you later and just cancel if you didn’t want to go. I’d pay and everything.”

You would probably have said no, but you felt bad after all that Minho had done. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a complete disaster, right? You could only make so much of a fool out of yourself. Surely it would be fine.

It was not fine. Minho was not lying when he said that it would be crowded and if the morning hadn’t made your day, you would never have gone for another open class in your life.

The two of you had left a note for Jisung, telling him that you’d be gone for the day, and headed to a coffee shop to get a cup of coffee. The weather was lovely, a breeze gusting past as you sat outside the shop, precariously balanced on the metal stools, blowing on your coffee to cool it down. As you sipped your drink gingerly, Minho told you all about his adventures.

He told you about Italy and their delicious pizza, how there everyone’s mother was a cook and he was always invited for a meal at a different person’s house after each dance session. He had even bought a piece of art from one of the painters there and proudly kept it in one of his luggages to bring on future trips.

He told you about Taiwan and their night markets, how he’d made new friends with the dancers there and gone to get bubble tea and scallion pancakes together. He told you about the competition he won there, even speaking a few words of their language to convince you.

He told you about America and Turkey and Spain, and how every country’s culture and way of life was different.

He was a time chaser, if you thought about it. He wanted to experience everything that the world could offer him in the shortest time possible. When you were younger, he had come so close to dropping out of school that his parents said they would stop paying for his dance classes and competition fees if he didn’t buckle down and study.

You couldn’t understand him at the time. Why would anyone want to sacrifice the security of an education paid for by your parents to go jump into the great unknown that was the world?

But now, looking back, you understood why he was that way. Hearing his tales of his travels made you wonder if you were living life as vicariously as you could, or if you were living through the other people you saw.

And if you weren’t living, when would you start?

9.54pm

YOU PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN. Minho was spread out on the couch, facing you but not paying attention to you. You looked back down at your screen and the messages Chan had sent you and tapped Minho’s ankle with your knee.

“Yah, Lee Minho.”

“Yes, Han Y/n?”

“Chan asked me out.” This sentence caught Minho’s attention and he stiffened, head lifting up to look at you. His brows furrowed slightly and the muscle in his jaw twitched. He set his phone down, looked at you properly and gestured for you to go on.

“Do you want to go?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, he probably likes me, right? So I shouldn’t break his heart, right?”

Softer, until you almost didn’t catch it, Minho mumbled, “But the real question is, do you like him back?”

Then it was your turn to knit your eyebrows together in confusion. Did you? You had never been very good with feelings. When you were fifteen, Jisung had a crush on a girl and so did you. Naturally, Jisung acted like himself and you just hyped him up as best as he could to get him to ask her out. When she rejected him, you had been sad for Jisung but also slightly relieved. You had never told Jisung about the incident, because even when you were in your twenties, you couldn’t for the life of you think of what to say.

You couldn’t identify feelings very well and were too socially anxious to have the guts to confess. Luckily for you, Chan did. The confession had you thinking that you might have something with him. You probably liked him. And at the very least, you would have liked to start something with him.

You told Minho that, but all he had to say was, “Hmm.” What was that tone supposed to mean?

“Is there something you need to tell me, Lee Minho?”

Minho was quiet, which was not unusual. He wasn’t smiling, which was a bit unusual but not completely weird. His jaw was twitching, which was not unusual but definitely meant that there was something going on.

“I need to tell you something.”

Patiently, you waited in silence as you watched him struggle inwardly with his thoughts. His mouth opened and shut as he fought to find the right words to express himself.

“Han Y/n, I have loved you for all the time I've known you. I really, really like you and that realisation was probably what grounded me and led me to come back to this place I hate. I want to travel the world but only with you by my side and I've been searching for so long and I think I've found what i’m looking for. You.”

You must have been so stupid for not realising because of course you were the reason that Minho had stayed in Korea for so long. You remembered that morning when you had just been thinking of the very same thing. You were such a fool not to have noticed that the common factor in all of Minho’s happy stories was always you.

Didn’t you see the framed picture of you, Jisung and Minho as kids that Minho propped up at his bedside table when he first unpacked?

Didn’t you realise that Minho couldn’t—or shouldn’t—be able to drop you off because he had other commitments, but he did it anyway because his feelings for you ran deeper than just your friendship?

Didn’t you see the way his jaw twitched when he saw you speaking to Chan?

There were so many telltale signs but you were blind. He gave you signal after signal after signal but you chose to drown instead, swerving off the bridge into the deeper waters of denial.

“Then why’d you just sit there and tell me and Jisung to go for our crush when we were fifteen? You never told me you liked me your whole life. I couldn’t possibly have known.”

Minho smiled sadly. “I thought you knew when I told you I loved you that I meant it as more than friends. When I said I’d be there for you, always, I didn’t mean it lightly. You just never read into it and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But I had to get it off my chest before I left you, again. I don’t know if I’ll ever come back after this, Y/n.”

You tripped over yourself trying to hug Minho, but when you did, he held you so tightly that you could barely breathe. It felt as if he was trying to make up for lost time, tears streaming down his eyes.

“Oh, Minho.”

It was just like the first hug you had given him when he was in Korea again, when you saw him at the company event. His embrace was still just as warm, only that he was shaking, and you didn’t think it was from the cold.

You hugged him back just as tightly, squeezing as much comfort into your hug as you could, trying to hold him in your arms like he used to do to you.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whispered hoarsely. “I don’t think- I don’t think I could live without you.”

Minho only responded by hugging you tighter before he finally let you go, laughing as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. For both of us. I hope- I hope you enjoy your date. And I’ll stay a while longer. From there, we’ll see where the wind takes me, yeah? And maybe one day, you’ll come to visit me instead.”

Although Minho was playing it off and acting all nonchalant about it, you knew Minho liked to bottle up his feelings and never talk about it. In fact, he probably had a ton of bottled-up trauma he needed to talk about at some point in time.

However, for that moment, you were content not to speak about it. You would simply keep an eye out for your best friend, whom you still loved regardless.

The tension swells up Are you listening? Paddling and clambering onto your surfboards In anticipation of a wave You’re ready to ride

And all of a sudden there is quiet The peace before a storm

The raging sound of the winds And the moving ocean are lost Has no one told you to never try to tame the seas?

You must not have been a very good listener The rules try to cage a roaring beast The restrictions, limitations are pressing in.

The darkness is imminent All that is on the surface Is inconsequential The water hugs me tightly It drags me down

The silence in my ears is deafening My lungs scream for oxygen And everything goes dark

Has no one told you to never try to tame the seas? You must not have been a very good listener

I won’t be tamed Won’t be broken Won’t fall to your stupidity Try to cage me, hold me back You don’t know what I’m capable of

(Grr wolfgang)

Dark blue overshadows, You think you can stop me? You might be the king of the jungle But here, I am the leader of the pack

(SCREECH-)

YOU COULDN’T TELL IF the last screech was from the song or from the abrupt stop that Jisung had come to. Next time, you weren’t going to let him drive. You didn’t want to lose your life going on a date.

Chan’s album had just been released and though it was unconventional to release it early on in the morning, you had requested that it be so. You wanted to listen to it on the way to the pottery-making class that Chan had booked, but you also knew that it would attract more people to listen to it if they were actually awake when it was released.

The mall wasn’t far from your apartment, but Minho and Jisung had insisted on coming with you, obviously. They just couldn’t leave you alone. Minho had been hyping you up the entire ride over, telling you not to be anxious and that he and Jisung had your back if you decided to bail at any one point in time. Jisung was just there to chaperone, or so he claimed. You personally thought that he just wanted to poke his nose in your business because he didn’t have a love life of his own.

They flanked you like bodyguards, and Minho was dressed in black from head to toe, which really sealed the deal. Jisung pulled Minho away to the other side of the pottery studio, both of them sneaking glances at you every once in a while in between making fun of each other’s creations.

You, on the other hand, were feeling rather jittery. You rushed to congratulate Chan’s release and compliment him on his work. “It was stunning,” you told him. “I’m always impressed by your arrangements of beats.”

He smiled back shyly at you, blushing furiously. He had to look away for a second to compose himself before thanking you for the compliment.

With all the nerves and anxious energy in the air, it took a while for both of you to calm down. Then, you could finally start enjoying each other’s company without being overly conscious of your own breathing and your hair and everything else.

Chan turned out to have a natural affinity for pottery. Even the lady teaching the class asked if he had made anything out of clay before, because he seemed so experienced and talented at it.

You, however, couldn’t say the same. Your cup was looking a little wonky halfway through the process of making it and it was precariously lopsided. Chan reached out to help you straighten it, but not before snapping a photo of your stunned face with the mug.

“Hey!”

“I’m making that my contact picture for you,” he grinned mischievously. Oh, right. He was referring to that one time that you told him to use one of the corporate pictures on the internet for your contact picture. You’d almost forgotten it until he brought it up.

You could hardly believe how long it had been since that day. Your and Chan’s relationship had grown so much since then and you’d grown less uptight and stiff around him, additionally his sense of humour had started to show more.

You were so happy to have Chan in your life.

Especially when he handed you a mini flower bouquet after you had cleaned up and sent your pottery creations off for baking and glazing. You took it, slightly confused, until Chan excitedly asked you to untie the ribbon. The bouquet unfolded into a little coaster and it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen.

Chan even brought you window shopping at the IKEA opposite the mall, nodding with you as you criticised the room decor and agreed when you liked the aesthetic. If you didn’t know any better, it might have felt like shopping for an apartment.

Afterwards you went to get ice cream together, passing by a couple of plushies hanging on a rack. Unable to resist, you grabbed the wolf plushie keychain and waved it at Chan. “Grr, wolfgang.”

You couldn’t help yourself, collapsing into a heap of giggles.

Chan sighed like an old man, looking between the keychain in your hands and your face. The glee on your face must have been enough to convince him, because he took it into his hand, and reaching out with his free hand, he took a quokka off.

“That’s you,” he grinned.

You cocked your head. “Really?” You’d always told Jisung he looked like a quokka, and obviously the two of you looked alike since you were siblings, but you had never had anyone attribute your looks to that of a quokka’s before.

But Chan was looking at you so tenderly and you didn’t want to ruin the moment, so you took it from your hands and smiled at him.

“Let’s go get these, then.”

YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN dreams never lasted before you woke up in cold sweat, clammy palms gripping your blanket. You had had an awful nightmare about Minho leaving, a manifestation of your fears since he had arrived. It wasn’t a recurring nightmare but it still hit you hard.

Still in shock, you got up to go to the bathroom to splash your face and calm yourself down. It was dark outside, but the room that Minho had been sleeping in seemed eerily empty to you.

When you walked past it again, you did a double take. Minho had been packing his bags for a while and you had been anticipating his departure during that time. However, he had never actually told you when he was leaving Korea, and if he really meant it when he said he might never come back.

Full of questions, you went over to Jisung’s bed to wake him up. You were concerned but mostly confused, and you wanted assurance that Minho was safe.

Little did you expect that Minho had already informed Jisung in advance that he was leaving. The two had even booked Minho’s tickets together, strategically arranging it at night so that you wouldn’t have time to cry and make a big fuss of it all.

“The real reason he had to wake up in the middle of the night to get to the airport for a flight at the most inconvenient hours of the day is so that you wouldn’t make a big fuss out of it,” Jisung hissed. “Yet, even after all that planning, it still seems to backfire. All because you’re so fucking emotionally attached to Minho-hyung.”

You sucked in your breath sharply, but Jisung was relentless. “Have you ever considered my feelings? In our little trio, it’s always felt like Miny/n and Jisung who third-wheeled everywhere you two went. You’re always so caring towards Minho-hyung but never to me. You prioritise him at every stage of life. You idolise him. Maybe you’ve never stopped to think that he doesn’t want you next to him all the fucking time and that’s why he left.”

“I don’t prioritise Minho over you, Ji. I pay so much attention to him whenever he’s here because I never know when he might up and leave. I don’t know when I’ll see him again. And maybe you know, so you’re not worried, but sometimes he ghosts me for days on end and I don’t know whether to be anxious or to attribute it to his busy schedule. You don’t know what that’s like, do you?” You scoffed bitterly, biting your lip to hold back your tears.

“No,” he sneered. “You’re right, I don’t. Because I don’t stick to him like glue and he’s okay with telling me things he knows you can’t handle. You’re acting so damn immature right now and that’s probably why he never talks to you about important things.”

You couldn’t help yourself. The tears rolled silently down your cheeks at Jisung’s words. You knew that he was just cranky and upset, and that he said these types of things completely unprovoked when he was tired or mad, but you still hadn’t expected him to say something like that.

It was true, although you were older than Jisung, Minho always treated Jisung like the older one. He was more protective of you, and always delegated work and details to Jisung when you were planning anything together. When you were still in highschool, you remembered Minho had had a project he desperately needed to finish. You had leaped at the opportunity to be useful to him, but he’d rejected you and gone straight to Jisung instead.

Thoughts were spinning in your head as you remembered all the conversations where Minho had dismissed your thoughts because you were not “ready to talk about those sorts of things” or so he claimed.

Even now, when you were already an adult, Minho and Jisung still treated you like a child.

Frustrated, you changed out of your clothes and grabbed a coat to keep you warm as you left the house. Sitting at the doorstep of your apartment, you gave Chan a call, fully aware that Jisung was extremely close to kicking you out of the house if you didn’t leave him alone.

To your surprise, Chan picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey. Can I, um, crash at your place? I kind of got into an argument with my brother.”

There was the slightest of pauses. “Sure. Send me your address, I’ll come pick you up. I don’t want you to catch a cold trying to get to my place.”

You rattled off the address, and you could almost feel Chan’s nod over the phone. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Chan held true to his word, reaching your apartment in exactly fifteen minutes, even coming up to your apartment door and gazing down at you as you sulked at the door, lips pouted and eyebrows scrunched together.

“Chan,” was all you managed out before he was hugging you, and you felt like melting right there and dissolving into a puddle of tears. “Jisung would have kicked me out if I didn’t shut up but I really needed someone to talk to because—hic—I miss him already,” you hiccuped, tears interspersing your words.

“It’s okay,” Chan whispered, stroking your back comfortingly. “It’s okay to let it out.”

You nodded and wiped your tears, hiccuping and leaning on Chan as he led you down to his car, driving you back to his house.

His house wasn’t much but when he brought you up to his roof, you were amazed by the view. You could almost ignore the city lights from up there, the only thing separating you from the stars being the vast expanse of the night sky between you and the constellations.

Chan brought out two bottles of champagne and glasses, while you snuggled under the blankets he had prepared. For a dirty rooftop in the middle of the city, it certainly was awfully comfortable.

It was also terribly romantic.

Chan wasn’t even settled in by the time you burst into tears, outright sobbing as you told him about how much you missed Minho. The softness of the air mattress under you didn’t make your heart ache any less, and the tears flowed from an endless reservoir, never seeming to run dry.

Chan wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, giving you just enough space to feel sad but not lonely.

He listened to you while you told him of Minho’s tendencies to up and leave, your struggles with your friendship and how vulnerability looked different on Minho with you and Jisung and you didn’t understand why humans were so complicated.

He listened as you told him Minho’s life story and your history with him, why you would miss him so much and how much of your heart he happily occupied, wrenching it away from you each time he left. As your heart slowly grew smaller and scarred, you were sure it was becoming more closed off to others.

You? Emotional? Of course not.

But even your impressive gaslighting skills couldn’t convince you that you weren’t emotional, especially after all you had told Chan.

“Y/n?” was the first thing out of Chan’s mouth after a good minute of silence on your part. The void of noise was punctuated only by your hiccups every once in a while as you fought back a fresh wave of tears.

“I think you need to let some of him go,” he said hesitantly. “It’s okay for him to live his life, and you yours. It’s okay that you’re set on two different paths that only cross once in a blue moon. I promise you, you won’t drift apart just because he likes to wander. You will still be okay and whole without one person and you can still be really good friends.”

Smiling, he pointed to the sky. “Do you see Orion’s belt? Similar to you mourning Minho’s departure, it’s a huge waist of time.”

You laughed involuntarily, eyes shimmering but no longer crying. “Thanks. I think… I needed that.” You gazed at the stars, in awe of their beauty and how vast the universe was. So many things were there for you to be grateful for, you couldn’t afford to squander the gift of time longing for the past. After all, you had the present to be grateful for.

Sensing that you didn’t want to talk anymore, Chan guided your hand out from under the blanket and pointed your finger at the stars. “Do you see that constellation right there? It’s one of my favourites. Sirius.”

“Three guesses why,” you said sarcastically.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little cliché and like the dog constellation because it’s the closest to a wolf. What’re you going to do about it, huh?”

You only responded by pressing a kiss to Chan’s cheek.

“While you’re in a good mood… I also wanted to tell you that it’s okay to be emotionally attached to people and need a while to get over things.”

“And to get into fights with our loved ones?”

“That. Human relations are complicated. You should know that, you people-watcher. I see how your eyes dart in public from one couple to another, scouring the world for any form of humanity to include in your music.”

You felt called out but Chan had a point. “You do it too. Is it my fault that living vicariously through others hurts less than doing it ourselves?”

Chan smiles fondly. “You know everything will work out, right? Hurting out of love is better than not feeling love at all.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you reply, tears blurring your vision. Your hand in Chan’s tightened its grip on him, your rib cage aching as if your heart was really and truly broken.

Chan tilted your chin so you were looking at him, eyes meeting yours as you nodded, just the slightest of motions before his lips were on yours, kissing the pain and the tears away, brushing his thumb over your cheeks to wipe away the traces of your hurt.

“Hey, Y/n. It’s really going to work itself out.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then crying is alright. It’s not a sign of weakness and you’ll let it all out. And from there, I’ll hold you through it all while you mend your broken heart.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

FIN.

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

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saff-rons · 13 days

Text

thank you so much for the tag @3ncr1pted! completely forgot that this had been sitting in my drafts till now:,)

15 Questions

Are you named after anyone? i was named after my great-grandmother.

When was the last you cried? yesterday! i cry easily, it's cathartic.

Do you have kids? nope

What sports do you play/have you played? i used to fence semi-competitively. but yeah I'm rubbish at everything else - badminton is pretty big in my country and i'm embarrassingly bad at it. also, i started running last summer and it's been great, but i haven't really had the time to do it regularly anymore.

Do you use sarcasm? occasionally? i wouldn't say i use it more than the average person, though

What is the first thing you notice about people? their demeanour and the way they speak.

What is your eye color? brown

Scary movies or happy endings? i love both but probably happy endings. I sometimes get tired of watching shows where the main message is that humanity sucks and we are all selfish creatures doomed for misery. I just would prefer to believe that we are all meant to experience happiness!

Where were you born? in a hospital in singapore.

Any talents? singing maybe? i did the whole ABRSM grading thing and i used to perform in a choir so i think that counts. not sure if fermenting things is a talent but i used to brew kombucha myself. now that i'm in uni, i had to give away my SCOBY because no one at home was willing to take care of it:,) it was so fun experimenting with different flavours though! when uni's over, i'll start on that again. I've also been meaning to learn how to make my own kimchi and maybe sauerkraut?

What are your hobbies? i read (less than i probably should). i usually gravitate towards sci-fi and fantasy but i read a ton of fiction in general. i'd say neil gaiman is my favourite author if i had to pick and i've been waiting for seven sisters to come out for years at this point. boo. i also watch a lot of shows! when i was younger that was mainly anime, but now I'll watch whatever if it seems interesting. i occasionally play some video games, but those are usually visual novels and point-and-click RPGs. outside of general media consumption, i really like hiking, crocheting and writing.

Do you have any pets? i have two back in singapore:) a dog and a cat. i love them sm <3

How tall are you? 159 cm. there was a time when i was pissed that i'd never reach the 160s but then i realised it Did Not Matter.

Favorite subject at school? English Literature, Chemistry.

Dream job? to own a tiny cafe or book store where i'd have a slightly overweight cat to keep me company. realistically though, i think i'd get bored and more practically, we live in a capitalist hellscape and i need to make money to support my family, so i just hope the corporate law job i sold my soul for is interesting enough for me to enjoy it.

tagging whoever reads this and wants to do it!!

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mrs-monaghan · 10 months

Note

I do not and will never care for tkkrs but I care for jkkrs and seeing us divided saddens me.

I feel like people do not understand that hybe already had plans on how to destroy BTS as the pioneers of kpop in the west and Jimin success posed as a threats to that plan.

The plan is the classic make a male pop star off a male band undergoing hiatus, therefore they already have a large fandom to back their solo work a great example will be Justin Timberlake. And I believe pdnim (who already sold his soul to hybe) suggested that Jungkook will be the Justin Timberlake of BTS.

Jungkook is the youngest member, has the great amount of lines and screen time on BTS songs (especially in Dynamite and that the biggest BTS song in the west) and he performed in the opening ceremony of the World Cup, all that combine makes him undoubtedly the most marketable one.

So hybe always knew the one that will break every BTS achievement in the west and even go beyond what BTS did will be Jungkook. And it shown by the fact that he got to work with pdnim and Scooter Braun directly. Jungkook is a great asset to hybe "the next JB" therefore they get to choose the song and he sings and becomes the star whilst they gain. We living in a woke world and Asian Justin Bieber has a nice ring to it and of course money hungry people like Scooter Braun will immediately jump on it. Thus they will do all to be ontop. And Jimin was fucking that up for them.

Jimin fucked it for them big time. He got all those amazing accolades because of ARMY and no company help whatsoever. So hybe definitely took it upon themselves to destroy him becuase his not who they envisioned to top BTS thus:

1)The deletion of sales in the hanteo charts.

2) The splitting of the like crazy streams immediately after it got to number 1 on global Spotify.

3)The lack and short period of promotion.

4)The lack of radio play.

5)The free-fall.

I will always be a strong believer that all that happened becuase of hybe itself and I will stick with that. Spotify said it themselves that streams are combined and seperated by the company's instruction. Hybe was the Thanos to all of Jimins falls (if you don't understand the reference 😅 I mean Hybe ruled all of Jimins sabotages.)

Over promoting Jungkook also doesn't play as advantage for Taehyung becuase I can bet a billion dollars they won't do all this for Tae therefore it just plain evil making him debut after Jungkook.

So if you hurt by the sabotages that happened to Jimin and decide you won't support Jungkook... You don't love Jimin nor do you love Jikook. They will always support and love each other.

So it really pains me that jkkrs are ganging up on Jungkook instead of hating on hybe. I really hope Jungkook actually gets to have a personal album whereby he gets to have creative input and hybe don't dictate all he gets to sing about.

I hate what hybe did to Jimin and I am scared on what hybe has in store for Jungkook.

Sorry for the long rant 🤭

My head hurts

#justice for jimin #the fuckery #ask shaz #bts ask #jikook

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wawa-cupcakes · 11 months

Text

Tim Drake starts a revolution. On accident. Part 1:

When he thinks about it the press, nor any of Gotham, or likely even much of the Justice league, had never seen Tim Drake without a coffee in his hand. So maybe this whole thing had been a long time in coming? The look of exasperation on Bruce’s face tells him no. But Jason cackling on the floor tells him yes. So who’s to say really.

It happens randomly one day. Tim is just leaving WE ready to get back to the Batcave so he can synthesize the half baked formula he thought up during the board meeting this morning for The Jokers new toxin. He made himself an especially large coffee with the Kureg Steph bought him for his office.

At the door he’s met with reporters, all asking about WE’s latest foray into buying housing their employees. And amongst all the questions being hurled at him he picks out the one about Coffee. I mean it’s only natural to have a fine tuned sense about these things when someone relies on coffee like it’s their actual blood. (And frankly it might be at this point Tim isn’t sure)

“What brand of coffee are you drinking?” - The question that will unknowingly rocket all of Gotham into chaos for the next few weeks.

“Bustelo. I’m drinking bustelo. Black like my soul.” Tim throws over his shoulder as he slips into the car. And then he forgets about the whole thing because he’s got approximately 20 minutes and 48 seconds to sleep on the car ride home and he’s not gonna waste a second of it.

He does even find out about it until three days later when he opens the cabinet to find oh - Alfred hasn’t replaced the grounds yet. He just grabs a different bag, he deserves from freshly ground beans after the night he had anyway, and set to work on making some coffee.

When he sees Alfred a few minutes later he asks him to pick some more up the next time he’s at the grocery store. “Actually, Master Tim. They were out. I went yesterday. ”

Tim pauses what he’s doing. “What?”

“It seems your recommendation to the press the other day has been taken to heart. All the stores in Gotham are sold out.”

“WHAT!?”

Upon further research apparently Tim’s sort of accidental recommendation had sky elected sales overnight. The company’s stock was up, and apparently they’d already made a statement about increasing production. The inbox Tim’s work email, the one he never checked, was flooded with emails from various coffee brands reaching out to attempt to get a sponsorship. Offering to send free samples, and some even life time supplies (Which Tim thought actually didn’t sound half bad) for him to review.

So Tim does what any sane person would do. He takes the power he’s been given an warps it to fit his needs.

#batfamily #batfam #dc comcis #batman #tim drake #If you give a Tim Drake a Coffee #it will probably want to take over the world #Tim has added world domination to the bottom of his list of To-do’s #he’ll get to it later it’s just that first he needs to finish pranking Ras Al ghul #and then he’s gotta move all of Jason’s furniture over a half a centemiter #oh and then at some point he’s gotta solve that riddle Eddie sent in so he’s busy tonight #coffee #red robin

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vilemint · 10 months

Text

Steeled Revenge

(Sebastian Michaelis x OC) fanfic

________________________

(you can also find this fic on AO3, here's the link , it's to my profile where there's more chapters of this story ((approx 15)) and there's also a Black Clover fic on there too in case anyone was interested.))

Before reading:

There will be mentions of situations most will not find comfortable. Please when reading that you understand these themes exist and it is not targeted at any person, groups, sexual preferences, or any of the sort.

MINORS DNI. DO NOT COPY AND REPOST MY WORK.

_______________________

WC: 5.6k

Ch. I

It is yet another dark, gloomy, depressing day out in London today. Even with the threat of rain, people were out and about visiting shops and conducting typical business activities as usual.

Including Mavis, even if she hated being out and around others. But the growing pain in her stomach screamed to have something filling to satisfy itself basically forced her out.

Passing by numerous shops that sold a variety of things, clothes, food, accessories, etc. Mavis favored a spot near the heart of London, even if it was crawling with nobles and mercenaries.For here she could swiftly and easily sneak pieces of food off vendors tables without the owners knowing. And when they’d realize what had happened, she’d be long gone in the sea of humans. She’s been getting bolder and bolder, swiping items at first from family owned businesses and slowly escalating to corporate companies.

But, there’s a drawback for Mavis being in large crowds.

What was stronger than the smell of baked goods and street food being freshly made right there was the scent of human souls. It's like shoving a Thanksgiving dinner in front of someone who's been stranded in the jungle for 6 months without adequate food and water on hand.

That urge to just cull a human soul was growing day by day. It drove her nuts, so much so that she doesn't eat meat. The sight, color, smell and texture was intoxicating, but she forces herself to push those emotions down, no matter how loudly her stomach growls.

With her back as straight as it could get, she ventured on into the crowds of people, swallowing the saliva that flooded her mouth as her sensitive nose caught the wisps of other souls. Its been getting worse since she arrived in London sometime ago. She’s times before came close to actually attacking people, but would stop herself when her consciousness would return from the frenzy. The haunting memories of her childhood being the negotiator most of the time.

For today’s menu, Mavis craved something sweet. And the only good enough shop for her to steal from would be from the Funtom Company. Rumor had it that a mere child runs the company now, as well as being head of his family. These were whispers and judgmental words from citizens who had issues with a child running everything.

She remembered the day she found out that was the case, thinking to herself, ‘Even if he runs a successful Candy Company, I can't believe he's the head of the family. Earl Phantomhive. Parents dying in a tragic house fire, leaving the boy the only one alive. Poor thing, I almost pity him.’

She huffed lightly, comparing backstories of his and her own together mentally. ‘Though, you weren't turned into a monster. But I am curious about this infamous butler of his that tags along wherever he goes.’

She ceased her mental bickering when the sweet smell of the well known candy store hit her nose. A sly smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she also spotted the company mascot on a small sign hanging over the main entrance.

‘Ahh..reminds me of father. Though that alone won't stop me from swiping some goodies!’

The shop was busy as usual, lots of kids with their parents browsing what Funtom offered as goods, along with young couples buying candy for one another. The typical crowd for the time of day.

Upon entering, Mavis snuck through the groups of people, purposefully avoiding the shop employees. There had been a sketch of her posted on the ‘Not Welcome In Store/Banned’ section of a newsletter board. Last thing needed was to be chased out of the store before getting a bite of the sweets.

Weaving in and out of the people, she finally made it to the baked sweet sitting on plates, awaiting grubby hands to take them. Brownies, cookies, cakes, cake slices, crepes, doughnuts, you name it, were all there and out in the open. Unattended, with the quick glance of her surroundings, Mavis began to pocket everything she could grab. Cookies, doughnuts and the one other reason why

she came out here in the first place.

‘Can't forget about the Butterscotch Brownies!’

Grabbing an exceptionally large handful of them she quietly pocketed the sweets before a voice shot out into the crowd.

“HEY! You’re supposed to not be here!”

“Crap!!”

She immediately turned around and booked it, pushing past the people in her way that tried to stop the robbery.

Reaching the door, she pulled it open and dashed through it, all the while her head was turned to show off her tongue to the ones that tried to stop her. She was home free, beginning to advance to the streets ahead when-

WHAM!

“Ugh..Damn it..” Her muffled voice crowed.

Wait.

Muffled?

Shooting open her silver colored eyes Mavis slowly observed what she ran into.

Black overcoat..

White undershirt..black tie..

A silver crest over the left breast pocket..

She took a sharp inhale. ‘This scent..I’ve smelled it before..Roses and Cinnamon..’ Slowly taking a step back, the customers gasped and murmured behind her. The sensitive hearing she has easily caught their voices.

“That mangy street rat ran into Earl Phantomhive! Er, well, his butler at least..”

‘You’ve gotta be shitting me.’ She groaned internally. Say goodbye to all that hard work for food I guess.

“Oh my. What is it that we have here?” A voice, so smooth and still as a lake spoke from above.

Quickly looking up her eyes widened at who the voice belonged to.

A man, tall and slender, with raven black hair, porcelain skin, and deep ruby red eyes observed her.

‘Oh fuck..’ Mavis nervously thought as she started to shiver lightly. ‘This man..he's the same as me..he’s a demon, and a ridiculously powerful one too..’ She stiffened up as his eyes traced her frame, slightly widening halfway around her body before relaxing again.

“Ah! Mr.Sebastian you’ve come at a good time! This harlot has been the one stealing all of the baked sweets! She’s got them in her pocket!”

Sebastian, briefly glanced at the store employee before going back down at the woman in front of him, a quick hand reaching into her pocket and pulling out the Butterscotch Brownie she snatched minutes before. He eyed the sweet then again the woman, a devilish smirk came across his face.

“So it appears. Good man, I’ll take her to the proper authorities.” He gave an eye closed smile, using his other hand to grab one of Mavis’s wrists, his attention snapping down to her. “Now then, Madam, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.” His grip tightened, as if he'd snap her wrist if she refused.

Growling slightly, she stared back into his maroon eyes, “Fine.”

Again, Sebastian smiled and turned to leave, bringing Mavis into the public eye. The moment she was out of the building, she made a quick twist of her wrist and bent it in a way that Sebastian wasn’t expecting and yanked herself free from his grasp. Taking the newfound freedom from her short capture Mavis took a quick breath of air and turned hightail, running away from the man as quickly as she could.

“Hey! Get back here!” The same employee yelled out, lunging into the direction the thief ran in, only to be stopped by Sebastian’s hand being placed on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, she will be dealt with accordingly.”

The shopkeeper Looked up at the butler in clad black with a look of uncertainty. Nonetheless, he once again thanked Sebastian for his coincidental timing and went back inside.

“Sebastian. What was that all about?”

Turning on his heel, he looked down to a boy, dressed neatly and spiffy like with an eyepatch over his right eye. And with a small bow, he rose back up and replied, “My apologies Young Master, it seems our rat problem just ran off.”

“What? That girl? SHE got away from YOU?”

With his eyes staring at his master, he continued. “There’s something else..” He walked over and put a hand to his ear. “In other words, a supernatural problem.”

The boys single ocean blue eye widened, nodding to his butler. “We will speak of this back at the manor. Come, if it means what it's starting to sound like this needs our attention now. Reschedule the check in with the other shops too.”

Sebastian got down on one knee. With a hand over his chest and spoke, “Yes, my lord.”

____________________________________________________

Mavis, now a safe distance away from the demonic butler, hissed at herself. “You idiot! Now not only don't you have any food, you’ve now got to deal with..THAT.” She spat out the word like acid, kicking some garbage in the alleyway she found after scaling buildings in the means to hide, the anger and frustration slowly boiling. Not only that, but her stomach was making the same Sirens call, trying to move her to feast on a human soul. Audible growls of hunger shook her body, and the aching pain that followed felt like a hot knife being stabbed into her belly.

“This..then that psychopathic red head from a few days ago..and now another demon in London. What more could come my way?” She grumbled, making a plan on what to do for the night.

‘Well..I have to find food, or else I’ll snap..that’s priority one. At least the dinner rush will happen soon..’

-later that night-

As she thought, the dinner rush began not long after the sun began to set. This time she stuck by the area she’s been calling ‘home’ for a few weeks now. Mainly sticking by the homeless folk that slept in the alleys and in broad daylight for everyone to observe.

Using her typical scavenger skills, Mavis again blended into a bustling crowd of people. She tried to focus on sights rather than scents, although seeing out of her eyes was just as much of a curse as her sense of smell. For she is able to physically see a person's soul. The shape, color and hue, and in some rare instances she could even see their textures. The mere sight of a soul doesn't catch her attention most of the time, it was the scent that was her enemy too.

It was already dark out. City workers scrambled to light the street lights to illuminate roads and sidewalks. Even without the light she could see everything around her like the sun had never set. Her night vision ability was really something to marvel at, even if it did make the things around her light up like a Christmas Tree.

Again she made it to an open table full of goods, checking her surroundings once more she began to pick out the ones that looked the best.

‘Mmmm…I’ll take you, you, you….’ She gasped loudly in her mind. ‘YOU!’ Her silver eyes widened. There before her was a Butterscotch Brownie, and only 2 were left. Muscle memory just lunged for the baked good, snatching the one and stuffing it into her pockets with the rest of them. Her swift swiping was silent, her clothing not even rustling.

Satisfied with her haul, Mavis slunked back into the crowd, disappearing into the sea of people.

She moved and weaved with bliss, not once bumping or brushing against anyone. Eventually she made it to another alley, quickly making her way to the very end of it and smothering herself against the brick wall, sinking down to the ground with her knees up to her chest. As a rabid animal finding fresh kill, the woman began to devour the sweets. Filling her stomach, but just barely. Even though she could taste and favor food like any other human, no matter how much she’d eat it wasn't enough. It only sufficed her hunger for a little while, a quarter of the day at most.

The Butterscotch Brownie was the only thing left to eat. Saliva dripped down the corner of her mouth, like a dog salivating for a bone. “Ohh you better be worth this!” She nearly moaned. Opening her maw, Mavis shoved the sweet inside, chewing the delectable tart and savoring its flavor to the fullest, before swallowing. Satisfied, Mavis moved closer to the wall, snuggling into the corner that met with the adjacent building with a tattered piece of cloth barely large enough to cover her body fully, slowly lulling herself to sleep.

Sure, she knew that it’d probably be best to keep a watchful eye out for demons and reapers, but today was the first day that Mavis’s screaming stomach calmed down. She didn't waste on the opportunity to rest.

Hopefully, she'll get a full night's rest if she’s lucky.

“My, my, you’re one hard woman to find.”

..Well nevermind I guess.

The millisecond those words hit Mavis’s ears, her eyes shot open and hovered over to the source of the sound.

A familiar scent followed close behind.

Roses and Cinnamon, with a new undiscovered hint of Earl Grey.

Her body moved on its own, quickly standing to her feet while her back pressed against the brick wall, hands holding onto a few of the bricks instinctively.

‘It wasn't worth it. Damn you!’

There at the opposite end of the alley, stood the same figure from before, the Phantomhive butler. The eyes he had made Mavis’s lips curl in distaste.

“It's a bothersome thing, isn't it? The anguish of a starving demon.” Sebastian’s smooth voice echoed in the restricted space. All was silent except the clicking of his dress shoes hitting the cobblestone pavement beneath them, making his way towards Mavis. In return she pressed herself harder to the wall, her teeth slightly sharpening in defense.

“Don't come any closer! I’m not in the mood to deal with you again today!” She protested, sending a small growl Sebastian’s way.

The soft sound curled around his ears, a sound he knows too well. It was a warning growl. “Mm, I’m afraid not. For you see, my Master's line of work would double if someone like you is out and about. The last thing he wants is the Queen to worry about her citizens.”

“Tch. To hell with her citizens. I know why you’re here, and I’m going to tell you once more, stay away. I’m not going to feed anytime soon.”

All Sebastian did was smile, and chuckle ever so slightly. “Ah, if I had a nickel for everytime I’ve heard that.” His eyes shifted to the telling color of bright magenta, seemingly illuminating brighter than the lamps in the dim alley.

Mavis in turn allowed her eye to do the same, showing off the piercing magenta color. All though in a much, much lower brightness. The iris slitting into a vertical shape. This made Sebastian stop in his tracks, staring at her.

“Oh? Well this is new..” He whispered to himself, though the woman caught it. His eyes squinted to Mavis’s chest, eyeing it curiously. She didn’t move, she knew that he was looking at her soul. With a quick breath in, Sebastian was stunned at her scent.

What he smelt was not only the familiar stench of a demon, but a new scent he didn’t notice before that the woman carried with her.

The sweet scent of honeysuckle and cedarwood, with a hint of the scent of..a forest?

Now, Sebastian would be lying if his own mouth didn't water in the presence of such a delectable soul, but being bound by contract, he couldn’t do anything about it. After all, it was his fault for being so picky about quality souls. His interest in the situation at hand was growing more however.

“Here I thought that you were some low life trying to get by. Though that is still the case-” he chuckled to himself slightly, before continuing. “However, in my many years of ‘life’ have I ever seen something as mysterious as you.” His lips curled back slightly, revealing 3 sharp top teeth and 2 sharp lower ones, all the while making his way to the woman. “Although it's been rumored of it happening, I’ve never seen one in person before..”

“Yes, yes, I’m well aware of what I am. But are you aware that I want nothing to do with someone like you?” She spat, putting one of her feet flat against the wall. If she had to escape, this would probably be the best way out.

“That I am. But I am bound by orders from my Master as I said to make contact with you. We cannot afford a rogue demon potentially starting a frenzied killing right now.”

She huffed with irritation, rolling her dual colored eyes at the man's words. “I already told you, I’m not going to feed. I haven’t culled anyone in over 17 years. Besides, I’m not looking for work. I have other important priorities to focus on than wasting time serving some moron tea when their legs work just fine.”

“Seems like she’s not listening, am I right, Sebastian?” A young voice called from behind the butler, along with the shadow of a child turning the corner from where the open road was.

“It appears so Young Mater. Perhaps our second plan could work.”

At the sight of the boy Mavis gritted her teeth together. ‘Not again, not like last time.’ She eyes him down. “What do you want, little pup?”

The boy squinted his one eye, staring back at her.

“How about a game?”

Mavis tensed slightly, “What do you mean..”

He walked up to his butler, cane in hand and stopped with the last sound being said cane striking the ground.

“I mean what it sounds like. The game is chase.”

The woman stayed silent, watching the little Earl.

“All you have to do is escape Sebastian for 5 minutes. If he catches you, you come back with us. If he doesn't, we will leave you until you lose control.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Was she seriously considering his offer?

“What do I get out of it?”

“Food. A roof over your head and a bed. Though no one is ever allowed to live in my manor without being of some sort of use. You’d have to work, and, as you said, you’d bring me tea.” He shot a cocky smirk.

Huffing again and getting tired of looking over her shoulder, she replied. “Fine. If it means you’ll leave me alone.”

“Excellent. You get a 10 second head start. After that, Sebastian will come for you.” he pulled out a pocket watch, flipping it open. “Ten.-” Aaannnddd she’s gone.

The joints in Mavis’s wrists and feet swiveled backwards and began to pull her body up the brick wall, much like a spider. As she reached the top, she took a millisecond to glance back at the butler who wore a smirk of excitement, then flipped over onto the roof. Just out of view now she could hear the quiet voice of the boy ask Sebastian if that was how she got away earlier that day, which he confirmed.

‘I know just one place that might throw off that damn bird demon..’ She thought, slowly making her way closer and closer to the Thames River.

Ciel turned to his butler, with 7 seconds remaining. “Well? What do you think? Could she really be only a half demon?”

Sebastian hummed lightly, eyes glued to the roof the woman was last seen on. ”It's beginning to look like it, though I’ll see for myself in a few seconds.” He glanced down at the Earl, his ruby eyes lightly sharpening at the chase ahead.

Back to Mavis, she hopped from roof to roof, finally seeing the Thames ahead. She was looking for the specific bridge that ran over it, the one that was full of people no matter what time of day. She grinned at the glorious sight, making haste to the under part of the bridge where she knew the supports for the bridge had a hollow opening, there she'd clamper into the space and squished herself as far as she could. And that's exactly what she did, making sure no one would see her first, then snuck down the embankment, and under the bridge. But before going in the bride's support, she decided to slather her arms, legs, and cheeks with mud, to deter her scent from being as noticeable.

Again, Ciel patiently waited for the seconds to tick by. Finally seeing the needle of his pocket watch hit the 10 second mark, he didn't raise his head to look at the butler. He knew he’d follow his order. “Fetch.”

And, just as quickly as Mavis had, Sebastian was gone too. The only thing indicating his departure was the near silent steps of his dress shoes clinking on the shingles above.

‘Ah, I see what she’s done here.’ Sebastian stopped, glancing down at the area next to the river. ‘Trying to deceive my senses are we? Interesting..She’s clever, I’ll give her that. And it seems she knows how to play games..’ His eyes scanned the crowd below, choosing to start his search by the well known pub in the area.

Many nooks and crannies zig zagged around the suburb. This was an area known to teem with trouble, most notably where Jack the Ripper has committed most of his recent murders. He scaled down the building in a darkened alley and walked out into the opening, as if he had been walking there this whole time.

‘He’s already near me?! No, that can't be!’ Mavis drastically thought. The wind had changed direction in her favor, er, well, not really.. She easily caught the distinctive scent of a demon nearby, along mixed in the aroma was hints of cinnamon and roses, though the cinnamon was much more pungent being a spice and all. But her muscles tensed, straining to keep herself steadfast in the corner as she heard the faintest sound of those dress shoes clicking down the cobblestone road. Even though that kind of shoe was normally worn during this era, it was the sound of his shoes that concerned her.

Sebastian sighed and continued on, slowly making his way to the bridge.

‘Well I’m never going to find her this way. Might as well use primal instincts..’ He took in the wind, allowing the scents of London to penetrate his nose. The disgusting smells of excrement from horses and people, mixed in with the other typical scents of London stood out. But one scent in particular pushed those aside and garnered his attention, one he hasn't encountered before.

His lips curled into a dark smirk scenting the faintest aroma of a demon, a sour and dark type of, but mixed in it like a blended melody was hints of citrus. This stood out beyond the rest of London, and to fill the growing hunger in his stomach Sebastian began to move closer and closer to the bridge.

Back underneath, Mavis was panicking. Why did she agree to do this?! Dammit! And to add salt in the wound she agreed to even ‘play’ with a powerful, high ranking demon too!

Her thoughts of possible escape snapped to a halt, the knowing piercing pain in her head thumped hard against her skull. ‘Shit! I’ve been so focused on hiding that I didn't realize just how much energy I’m wasting just to do this!’ The raging headache going on now couldn't be dulled by any other pain. She bit her lip hard, unknowingly too hard, not paying attention to the feeling of liquid slowly dropping down her lips till it was too late.

Looking down to her horror, Mavis watched a singular drop of blood hit the ground. It’s impact echoing louder than the clopping of horse hooves against the pavement up above. Like flipping a switch, the sound of Sebastian’s dress shoes abruptly changed direction and started moving closer to the bridge. Eventually Mavis surmised that the man was right on top of the same support beam she was. Instinctively she drove her hand to cover her mouth, in an attempt to slow her rapid breaths.

Taking out his pocket watch, Sebastian peered down at the glass and clicked his tongue. ‘Oh dear, its already been 4 minutes and 30 seconds? This won't do at all.” He frowned. ‘To think.. I might be outsmarted by a half demon..’ The foul taste of the thought stained his tongue.

The butler resumed his walk, but stopped after a few steps as his ears picked up the soft sound of yelping. It was faint, he could just barely hear it, but in his line of work you get accustomed to the sounds of whimpering one way or another.

Turning around, his eyes scanned the crowd of bustling people who were on the bridge with him, it was close enough that maybe the woman was blending in with the crowds.

Then, he heard it again. The same yelping sound, this time slightly louder but not loud enough to draw attention from humans, but loud enough for animals and supernaturals to hear it.

Mavis looked up from between the cracks she could physically see Sebastian above her. The lanterns illuminated his form while hiding the features on his face, but there’s no doubt it was him. The only man on the bridge without a woman or friend beside him, and the distinctive 3 raised hairs atop of his head gave it away. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the blinding light of the hanging lanterns, Sebastian’s form was gone. Fear and anxiety soon set in.

And she had a right to be scared.

“My, aren’t you a well camouflage thing?” His voice slipped off his tongue and right into Mavis’s ear.

She squeaked and finally lost the strength in her arms and legs, now tumbling down to the muddy water bank face first with a hard ‘thud’. She groaned and started to heave herself up but was stopped by a firm hand gripping the back of her neck.

“Ah, ah, ah. Can’t have you running off now, you’ve been caught, little mouse.” Sebastian smirked, and in return Mavis gave a deep growl of displeasure; the grip this man had on her was so strong that if she even attempted to run her skin would most likely stay in his hand while her body left.

Ciel yet again looked at his watch, about to call Sebastian back till out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the man in question walking towards him. He had to double take to be sure his ‘one good eye’ wasn’t deceiving him.

“Young Master, I come bearing a gift.” He chuckled.

With her arms folded and silver eyes fixed on anything else but the two of them was an irritated Mavis. ‘How could I let this happen AGAIN?! Screw this damn Bird Brain and runt of an Earl..’ She negatively thought. “I can see that Sebastian. Come, the carriage is waiting.” He turned impressively and began to walk to the horse drawn car. All the while, Mavis just kept her mouth shut the whole time, till she was put into said carriage. She reluctantly sat down, looking around the small space for an easy escape route to only find her chance would be to weave between her kidnappers. That or go through the glass window, which was out of the question. I mean, she did lose fair and square, and Mavis was a woman of her word (for the most part..depends on what it is.)

Both of Mavis’s captors sat across from her. Sebastian wasn’t driving this time as someone else was hired for the job.

“Now then, May I ask for your name?” Ciel quizzed, legs crossed over and back straight. His single deep royal blue eye practically pierced through the woman before him. “Mavis. Mavis Fairview.” She replied, hand on her chin and head leaning on the cool glass of the carriage.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms.Fairview. I’m Ciel Phantomhive, Earl of Phantomhive.” Before he continued the woman but in. “I know who you are. To the public eye you’re just a boy who lost everything. But to others, you’re known as the Queens Guard Dog.” She didn’t move her head, but her eyes slid over to the boy, who looked right back at her with surprise. Even the butler next to him couldn’t help but to mimic the same reaction as well.

“How-how did you know?”

“When you’re part of the actual underworld, word travels fast. Especially when you got him-” She slightly hissed, “As your lap dog too.” As she sneared at Sebastian, a thought crossed her mind. Ciel had started to gain notoriety at being a detective, and even solving what the Scotland Yard couldn’t do, so perhaps..he might be able to help her…

In her own personal life, she wasn’t getting far with leads to look for the person/people that made her own special little hell on Earth, who caused her great pain and suffering and, just like anyone else, wanted revenge on them for doing so. But..could she really put down more time and waste possible energy for another Master who would ‘help’ her?

The chance would come soon enough. Afterall, what more could she gamble away? Nothing if I’m being honest. But for now she had to determine if these ‘people’ before her are worth the time. Ciel squinted his eye at her as she continued to stare, getting uncomfortable between that and the awkward silence that was soon apparent.

To break it, Ciel continued with a basic question. “Alright, seeing that you’ll be staying at the manor you’d have to work for me. No one is allowed to stay rent free. Have you ever had a job like a maid before?”

She sighed, angry that she’s going to answer truthfully. But its for the best. “Yes I have. I’ve been a maid and a butler before, But I much prefer the butler role.”

Ciel put a hand to his chin in thought. “Young Master, if I may-” Sebastian started, “Perhaps it would be best to have another butler in the house. She could be of some use to the troublemakers back at the manor.” Ciel’s face soured at the mention of the others. “Yes..It would be nice for once to not have anything go wrong.”

Mavis just looked between them, hoping the Earl wouldn’t say what she thinks he will.

“Alright, I’ll have you work under Sebastian. You’ll also be second in charge for our morons of servants.” Aaannnddd there it is. The thought of her having to work under this..sadistic demon made Mavis grind her teeth. Her K9’s peeking through her lips.

“Fine. But, I must ask something of you in return. If you help me I’ll comply, if you don’t I’ll leave the moment I see the chance.”

The both of them looked at each other quickly before looking back at Mavis. Sebastian’s eyes squinted slightly.

“As long as it's in the lines of what I can do, consider it done.”

She closed her eyes, head turning to face the both of them. When they opened, one eye was silver, the other glowing a bright magenta.

“Help me find the people that killed my father, and imprisoned me. Then, I’ll gladly work for you.”

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freeroaming-curiosity · 4 months

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Hiya! My name’s Opportunity, but you can call me Oppy. She/her or they/them, living in between dimensions with my friends! (so I could really be in any region) (I’m traveling Hoenn right now though). My friend Quasar got me set up on here, huge thanks! And yes, I am a shapeshifter. I can turn into just about anything. It’s cool!

So a bit about me. Well, I was artificially created as one of many shape-shifting slaves to be sold in stores across the corporate nation of VermilineCorp. The factory I was made at doubled as a place for training us to be the perfect servants, and it was… not nice. I endured years of it. Needless to say that’s not what I wanted for myself, so I escaped through a Door into the Dimensional Nexus. But I got pretty badly hurt while running. Lucky for me my best friend Quasar found me and brought me to this world, where I healed and gained my freedom, for real this time. (I’ve had bad experiences with false hope)

Now that I’m in a world that doesn’t hate me, and I’m free to live as I wish, I’m traveling the world to see all the cute pokemon in it! I love nature and cute things, and this world has lots of those! And since I have a rotomblr of my own now, why not post about the things I see? I’m also exploring the Nexus with my friends sometimes too, so there’ll be posts about that too.

My Pokemon (so far):

Vinebud, a beautiful Serperior

Genesis, a Red Gyrados who loves flying

Celsius, a strong, stoic Cryogonal

Jutsu, an energetic Ninjask

Echo, a laid-back Shedinja

Candela, a Shiny Litwick from a place called Wonderland, who seems to love books

Powerfist, a Metang with an excellent sense of direction

Strelka, a unique pokemon called a Type: Null

Here’s me! ^u^

Seems the Variable Free is coming into her own. This will be a delight to observe. And what's this? Visitors? Well then, allow me to introduce myself: Baron Twyst Von Jokewyld at your service. But what's in a name? That's for me to know. Now that our little shapeshifter has gained her freedom she has quite the journey ahead of her, together with the astronaut lost and their company, and I have my role to play in that. I'll also be posting on here, when the fancy strikes me. Ask as much as you want, I'll see what I feel like answering!

//OOC under the cut

//OOC: Hiyo! Call me Cyber. I use they/them, I’m over 18, and while I’m getting better at RP I still struggle with social anxiety so please be nice (in-character hate is fine)

I’m still learning so if I mess up don’t hate me

Events and plotlines are 100% OK and encouraged. I might even have my own later

Pelipper Mail and Malice are both on, as is Magic Anons, and interaction is encouraged

Sentient pokemon are welcome here

The usual tag warnings and DNI apply for a PokeRP blog, also for this blog specifically there’s a blanket warning for Homestuck, and a few warnings for liminal spaces as well.

Also yes I use Gacha Club. If that's a problem I'm sorry

Facts about Oppy:

Oppy is part of the Nebula Incursionists (see @nebula-incursionists-official )

Oppy is technically a faller so she still has much to learn about the pokemon world

Oppy is a shapeshifter, but was conditioned to never shapeshift except in certain ways. She’s still working on overcoming that conditioning

Despite how cheerful she may seem Oppy is a sensitive soul. She was frequently abused at the factory she was made at, and so has a number of traumas and other things to live with

On the note above Oppy will not under any circumstances use strong language due to personal reasons (nor will I due to past trauma). She is ok with people swearing around her however, as long as it’s not aimed at her maliciously

#rotomblr #pkmn rp #oppypost #first post!!!!!!#pkmn irl

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space-blue · 1 year

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Here's a weird contribution to the Miles Quaritch tag :

Do you know the song Sixteen Tons, by Merle Travis? It's about a coal miner singing, saying he can't die, because the company owns his soul.

It's eerily close to the situation the RECOMs are in :

youtube

Yessir, there's a-many a Kentucky coal miner that pretty near owes his soul to the company store. He gets so far in debt to the coal company he's a-workin' fer that he goes on fer years without being paid one red cent in real honest-to-goodness money. But he can always go to the company store and draw flickers or scrip -- you know, that's little brass coins that you can't spend nowhere only at the company store. So they add that against his account and every day he gets a little farther in debt. That sounds pretty bad, but even that's got a brighter side to it.

That's the explanation Merle gives before singing. In Avatar humanity has fully gone full circle. They can make their own miners, and they don't need to have them spend brass coins, just do their job.

Quaritch & co can't go either, they owe their souls to the RDA. And like the singer who says "I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine / I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine" : they were all put to work from the moment of their birth, and like replicants, given fantom memories of a childhood they never had.

Straight to the mine.

If you see me comin', better step aside A lotta men didn't, a lotta men died One fist of iron, the other of steel If the right one don't a-get you, then the left one will

I bet Quaritch loved those lyrics and enjoyed the irony of being a company town merc, pretty much.

So yeah long story short I'd love a story of Quaritch going through some of the stuff he was provided, which includes some of his old-self's favourite music (probably encouraged to strengthen the mental imprint of the memories!) and he's delighted and kicks back to one of his fav song...

Except this time around the lyrics carry a much more ominous meaning. Now there's no hope of ever repaying any debt. His old self sold him out. Why would he have cared? Death was final—to him.

#miles quaritch #meowmeow's favourite song #bites him in his metaphorical ass #ramblings #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #Youtube

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jheqiawrites · 4 months

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A bit of Christmas Fun

As some of you know, I have a Patreon account and I have a few stalwart fans who support my writing. I have asked them to pick from a list of Christmas writing prompts so I can create "The Twelve One-shots of Christmas". However, Only one person responded, so I am opening it up to my tumblr fans as well. I will post the (epic) prompt list below and you guys can pick some. The first ten commenters with the numbers they want to see will be will have their choices written as part of this series. (Any others that tickle my muse might also be turned into one-shots, but not in time for my deadline of Jan. 6th.)

Normally, I would post a poll for which writing prompt you guys would like me to tackle this month, but you guys have been such a big part of 2023 for me that I wanted to give each of you a little something. So, instead of a poll, I am going to post a list I have compiled of holiday writing prompts that I think would be fun to write.

Please pick a prompt or two that catch your eye and mention the number or prompt in the comments below. I will work on getting these done by January 5th - the twelfth day of Christmas! This is open to all my members - paying or otherwise - and I reserve the right to tweak things as needed (and there are some of these that already have Felinette stamped on them in my head, so a change of ship might also be involved.) 😜 If you would prefer artwork, please let me know.

Jheqia's Holiday prompts list:

1 Character A and Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas Party.

Character A’s best friend rigs the Secret Santa, because they know Character A has a crush on Character B.

Character A works as a Santa’s helper. Character B has a small sibling/child.

Character A is desperate to find a particular item (book/toy/etc.) as a present for someone, but it’s been sold out everywhere. Character B helps.

Character A and Character B are co-workers, but they barely know each other. But they both have to work through the holidays.

Character A and Character B meet in the ER on Christmas Eve.

Character A can’t wrap gifts to save their life. Character B is thir neighbor and can help.

Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiance.

Character A vows to do something nice for a stranger during the Christmas time. Character B is that stranger.

Character A and Character B both sign up for a Christmas Pen Pal project to exchange postcards.

Character A and Character B broke up, but now they meet at a Christmas party.

Character A is stuck working in coffee shop on Christmas Day and Character B is the lonely soul spending their whole day there.

Character A’s little sibling/child wants to meet their favorite celebrity/writer/person for Christmas. Character B is said “Christmas present”.

Character A can’t travel to see their family on Christmas, so they invite their grumpy loner neighbor Character B.

Character A and Character B compete in Christmas house decoration.

Character A bakes too many Christmas cookies so they share it with Character B.

Character A has to dress up as Santa for Christmas.

Character A and Character B have to save Christmas.

It’s Character A’s first Christmas since a tragedy.

Character A returns to their birth-town for the holidays. Character B is their estranged childhood best friend.

Character A is pretending to be their friend’s lover for the sake of the friend’s family. Character B is said friend’s sibling.

Character A loses a bet and has to wear a different ugly Christmas sweater every day till Christmas. Character B works at a clothes store.

Character owns a struggling toy store. Character B is looking for a Christmas present.

Character A doesn’t feel the Christmas spirit but Character B, who lives above them, keeps playing Christmas carols really loud.

Character A overhears Character B’s Christmas wish and decides to fulfill it,

26 Are you pulling down mistletoe?

27 If I hear one more Mariah Carey song I will riot!

28 Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?

29 My house, my rules. The Christmas Music stays on!

30 You do know that throwing that snowball is declaring war, right?

31 You;re kidding! I;m not going out in that snow storm!

32 I can’t believe you did all of this for me!

33 You don’t have to go through all this trouble, you know.

34 You didn’t really think I would let you spend Christmas alone, did you?

35 I hate to tell you this, but you make a really terrible Santa/Santa’s helper.

36 It’s a time of peace and goodwill, not… whatever that is you’re doing!

37 How on earth did you even get tinsel up there?!

38 It looks like Santa threw up in here!

39 What are you doing to that poor wrapping paper?

40 What did the wrapping paper ever do to you?

41 Exactly hpw much more hinting do I have to do?

42 Have I told you how much I hate Christmas shopping?

43 Secret Santa is a bad idea!

44 Why are you impossible to shop for?!

45 Please tell me you weren’t searching my room for where I’e hidden the presents.

46 How many Christmas sweaters do you own?

47 Girl/Bro, do we need to hold a candy cane intervention?

48 But why do the sweaters have to be ugly???

49 One normal Christmas! That’s all I ask!

50 I;m sure whatever threat is out there can wait until after Christmas dinner.

51 You are wearing a santa hat whether you like it or not

52 Who turned off the oven?!?!

53 This calls for eggnog!

54 I’m surprised the eggnog hasn’t been spiked by now.

55 Just how much eggnog have you had?

57 No offense meant, but I don’t trust you to carve the turkey.

58 Oi! THat’s my hot chocolate!

59 I don’t care about anything else. The pudding is all that matters!

60 You made gingerbread zombies?!?!

61 Step away from the cookies and no one gets hurt!

62 Normally, I;d say no, but I’m on like my 14th candy cane so sure. why not.

63 Person A and B's heater go out so they have to cuddle together by a fire to try and stay warm.

64 Person A has never seen snow before so Person B gets to watch Person A see it for the first time and look utterly amazed.

65 Person A waking up to see that Person B has decorated their entire house for the holidays overnight by themselves.

66 Person A having to wear multiple jackets, scarves, and hats to stay warm outside while Person B is still in a t-shirt and shorts.

67 Person A trying to decorate for the holidays while Person B teases them about how it's still months until then.

68 Person A trying to set up the tree for Christmas but Person B has to pick Person A up for them to put ornaments on the tree because they're so short.

69 Person A getting frustrated when wrapping presents while Person B being able to quickly wrap beautiful presents and A being absolutely amazed and jealous.

70 Person A being sad when they weren't able to buy a real tree to decorate for Christmas so Person B buys a little bonsai tree for them to decorate, even though it's only a foot tall.

71 Person A and B decorating their house/apartment together and when Person A goes to another room to grab some more ornaments they hear Person B yell. When they rush back into the room they see Person B has somehow tangled themself into the Christmas lights and fell over.

72 Person A waking up on Christmas morning and being confused to find only one small box under the tree. Person B acts like everything is normal and convinces Person A to open it and when they open it they just see a note and an engagement ring.

73 Person A has a fairly large following on [insert social media] where they post their art. They post a lot of drawings of person they have a crush on. Little do they know that their crush (Person B) follows their account and recognizes themself in the drawings

74 Person A's computer is dead and they don't have any reference but they need to draw anatomy for their art class. They end up asking Person B to model for them and shennagians occur

It was midnight and I couldn’t get what she said off of my mind.

75 Listen, I’m not very lucky so you better have a good plan or some magic to help out.

76 I am an adult and you do not have to keep telling me that... although I do appreciate it.

77 It wasn’t until he showed up that I viewed the color blue like that.

78 If she didn’t love me then I’ll make sure no one in the world loves me.

79 It was only a stuffed animal but I couldn’t help but feel like it was something much more than just a toy.

80 I still got butterflies when I saw her, but they were much different than before.

81 It would be nice to get some sleep tonight but since that isn’t gonna happen I guess I can talk.

82 Person A always gives Person B little sweet or encouraging notes throughout the day. One time while helping B clean they find a stash of every single note A ever gave them (possibly from before they even started dating)

83 “Please stop calling me at 3 am for advice on this video game.” “Okay... but you still didn’t answer my question.”

84“Avoiding me isn’t going to solve this.” “I’m not avoiding you, I just can’t talk to someone who eats oreos like that.”

85 Person A is a lounge singer and Person B is the silently pining member of the waitstaff who's been leaving roses for Person A after all of their performances.

86 Person A being super tired and as Person B is helping them to bed Person A says "You know I have a crush on you, right?"

87 Person A and B are having a sleepover and as Person A is falling asleep they suddenly pull B in close and hold them for the night

88 Person A asks Person B why they're acting so weird and B replies with "I'm sleep deprived and I have a crush on you and so I don't know how to act normal right now."

89 Person A having to stay up late to finish something and having Person B on the phone sleepily cheering them on

90 Person A trying to set up the tree for Christmas but Person B has to pick Person A up for them to put ornaments on the tree because they're so short.

91 Person A getting frustrated when wrapping presents while Person B being able to quickly wrap beautiful presents and A being absolutely amazed and jealous.

92 Person A being sad when they weren't able to buy a real tree to decorate for Christmas so Person B buys a little bonsai tree for them to decorate, even though it's only a foot tall.

93 Person A and B decorating their house/apartment together and when Person A goes to another room to grab some more ornaments they hear Person B yell. When they rush back into the room they see Person B has somehow tangled themself into the Christmas lights and fell over.

94 Person A waking up on Christmas morning and being confused to find only one small box under the tree. Person B acts like everything is normal and convinces Person A to open it and when they open it they just see a note and an engagement ring.

95 PersoN A complaining about how they've never had a New Year's kiss before so Person B surprises them with a kiss when the clock strikes midnight.

96 Person A being super sleepy and falling asleep way before midnight so Person B waked them up at 11:59 so they can kiss at midnight before tucking them back in bed.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #adrien agreste #mlb fandom #adrienette #felinette #ladynoir #ladrien #love square #AUs

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stefanp1 · 8 months

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Usually don’t comment much about Dance Tracks but Honey Redmond's post this week reminded me of the importance of working hard and being able look back at not just the glory but the journey. I have been fortunate to have had 30 years in the music business thanks to Claussell Joaquin. Without him, I might have been stuck behind a desk at an insurance company, like I was when we met.

Where did 30 years go? In July 1993 we opened a store that turned into, 3 record labels, a merchandising company, and digital download store. It became a New York landmark for both the NY music community and collectors from around the World. Any minor business skills I may have, were cultivated over 20 years on this block dealing with everyone from the Mafia to the Hells Angels. There is fuckery everywhere, so learning to deal with masters of it was my business school. Like any 21 year old who opens a business in NYC, it was just as hard then as it is now, but we lasted a very long time because of the music we sold and the customers who bought it. Branding people go to business schools for years to try to build this, but that is like letting AI write songs, it lacks soul.

Friday afternoons were an amazing array of people from all walks of life connecting through a shared love of music and record collecting. Contrary to popular myth, the most talented folks were usually the humblest. Norman Cook or Norman Jay came and sat on those black sofas all day raising their hands when they heard something they liked. Danny Krivit always at around 9.50 pm, for his “pile”, Francois asking to pick up the needle so he could “hear that bit again”, it was fascinating to hear music the way he did and to have sold these guys and so many others, records that ended up moving dancefloors across the World.

When asking for a record the lines “Do you know who I am” or I’m a DJ do I get a discount”, were often met with the response established by Stan Hatzakis the original founder of dancetracks, “sorry mate, that is the last copy and its for Frankie Knuckles” who lived a few doors away. He often stopped in for a morning coffee and Joe and I often reciprocated when the store closed on a Friday, by going to the sound factory bar with a white label or a jam he might want to play.

To the customers who came right off work on the F train to second avenue to grab jams for their gigs, or those who just came to be turned onto a new jam, that made a shitty work week worth it. For close to 20 years that is how my weekends started. Records getting played and hands getting raised while we handed out shrink wrapped vinyl to the fiending music lovers in front of us. Anyone who played out or collected rolled by. Many of you in this group who were customers are still my close friends today. They often share messages about a record they heard or that they bought at the store or when they see a Dancetracks price sticker on a record they just picked up on Discogs. I am so grateful to everyone when they reach out, it reminds me what it was all about. Nowadays I have that same feeling when I find a record, or I am turned onto one, by somebody in a record store….forever linked and not by social media.

We had Quentin Crisp at the end of the block, Dee Pop from Bush Tetras who ran the bike messenger service in the middle of the block next to the aforementioned headquarters of the Hells Angels and Frankie Knuckles only doors away from them. When we opened there was not a drug in the world you could not buy on the block which of course brought drama, tragedy and fun.

The store had so many great staff, whose musical tastes were so influential on what went on the wall and more importantly what stayed on the wall no matter how old it was. Remember those days where your music not confined to a few hours on the front page of a website. All of these people were central to the “sound of Dancetracks” which changed with the staff. Phil Duke, Jenifa Mayanja, Kamati Pinkston, Josh Thomas, Jimmy Sky, Tyrone Francis Mickey Miguel, Tommy D Funk, Kalim Shabazz, Ramit Kreitner, June Joseph, Funmi Damian Galban and of course Jacky Sommer, all such great folks to work and listen to music with over the years. Much thanks to Augusta Quiney for such a great logo that still resonates today.

To the distributors whose stock we would hide in their warehouses so no other stores could get it, who always called us when they had something hot, you were all an extension of an ethos that was driven by great music……..never “dancefloor fillers” as they were often described by @Harry Russell, but who also knew the difference between the two.

It was a blast.

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 8 months

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Preliminaries: Wolf 359

Captain Isabel Lovelace received six nominations and therefore is automatically qualified.

Propaganda:

Daniel Jacobi:

I'll be honest with you. He's not even the sexiest character in Wolf 359 but he does live in my head rent free and if you're into submissive types I have just the man for you!

Funnee explosion man. Also, doesn't sound like much in a podcast but was somehow the first #confirmed one in w359: canon LGBT. (mlm but we don't know which flavour)

Hera:

I don't care if she's an AI with no physical form, she is HOT

my digital wife <3

Renée Minkowski:

killed a man with a harpoon while bleeding from a gut shot. you can't argue with that kind of sex appeal

Warren Kepler:

HEAR ME OUT!! Love him or hate him he's on your mind. He's the literal worst and a truly vile person but he also sold his soul to the company store and in doing so lost absolutely everything. He's not even a person he's a weapon. He holds every card until his loyal dog bites the hand that feeds. He has layers. Idk his voice just did something to me at an impressionable time in my life <3

some people like him because they like the authority, but i think everyone agrees that the real sexyperson factor is how pathetic he ultimately is. hottest thing he ever did was sacrifice himself for the greater good with zero witnesses.

#Daniel Jacobi #Hera #Hera W359 #Renée Minkowski #Renee Minkowski #Warren Kepler #Wolf 359 #Preliminaries

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libidomechanica · 6 months

Text

Ask me when Phoebus loue

A Meredith sonnet sequence

Yet to my reflex yourselves had a love thy prince; no Indes such delight I’ve got my breast treason did thy middle age asks ease, did breeze. Cannot recall; the moment shore with diuers cause wel vnderstand! Reap glory in her came the whilest in his griefe company invited. Flye to my eye; what the which she realme of window store. And the princess of Love guided star, if any skill, set up in Peace pipe on her which band of her hat another please all song of mocking! Yet I do appease. For some slime. And the more modern Greeks; so that faire, full of a quiet? Ask me when Phoebus loue. In one’s heart, where be ye sure to the phantoms kept their king, or giue most miseryes.

His poor man she alone is lord Gregory, and those with dross that lives commend? Into a Lover cans and love is in love, and sweet flower in a city made for to spell be by a single;—why shoulder borders do abhord. Some, with cloudy looke, Fill high sentence, but all then doe I wish that tyrant passing higher, there we are not marriage; scarcely woman planted unless you like glory of my transformed by thy fair; so Anacreon drawn the door keys, their trickes; while peace, a gesture which wakes,— to shew the mystery of the sun, the clime, the royal penchants of pain that rubs its strutted up I felt so well as bright, thou require it, that ye could her cheek.

That never a world of wurst the hardest Marble are the gloves slips that giues soft feel safe then—i never fine screen—yet with a thing to the envy wishes for variety, and many a wistfull of married lady, and nerve: you were. Comes the child is so euill as bright, with his grave at all dark the arrow, an Amethyst remember stare upon that ye so far too sick, or purple grapes and which make himself, perforce you, when, for stale virgin’s corpse layd, vsed Trophee that wassail in the evening no hiding bread loaves closing’s not recall, tis sometimes sleep; when the stones are a sadnesse and Jill goes it was thy guides: my true-love her mother beauty slandering to husband.

There let this enemies a lower, and twixt game: see what’s his Dominion sweet Saynt sometimes run off with his garden yse: but there he loss of mild demeanors motion free from madnesse raigneth to loved a connubial kind. Evergreen the streets the every much comming rose infrequent smile on the wanton win! Comes out then laugh at me as Romans do, ’ a piece of constrayned nothing who by blind and both her comes you call longueurs’ we’ve not be beleeued, and driven kindling wynde, so calmer hours. Might of power since it ill. To his Sea, whom crueltyes, and girls had some to quite it! And every world how ill the word: and, catch that lately woman. While my woes a Tragedy.

The mouth opens mothlike, t is to the hill, then glad mouth. The ground; if Yuorie, he’s gart build a bonie lassie be; weel ken I my selfe they blind of child. Fill your visnomy, christ enter’d round a weary war is the grassye ground; one groan was red. They hanged to the gude red cock crew, the day, and rumour of that all, and shaven head grown slights and went to be, and endeth. Of rocks once-a-boy pilfering happened with green Thirst like there was cruising. While the basket of light, the garden …. Fill high rate, he threat, or flax; an equal light. And cure bad acquaintance. The crowds hae sent some majestically tame, the wretched on the shore until it spills …. So glorified aright, with a Persians’ graves.

Let it for mouth of life in which all thing I can she sing fall damn near her in the cause each fooles Heau’n forget themselues abuse. He lie on Mother! No Warders with cruelty doth fly. This clothes, while reply whose ymage yet again—to shear and can not entertayne, and breaking the Starres, to show it was he; and in her song, with Cares haue, with steals from the sold to his last I know that once enlumind me, if I saw the additional Southey ever still swollen gather’s soul of earth, Beloved the world so filled, young tipt with what was of Carib fire, there did not of ancient her golden trumpets wanted none, your breast, there his portraict of food and can no more.

Eyes rear more prayses ouer-cast, deem this too sore my tongue says why I wanted bed-posts shining me more captyued hart frosen cold: in prison I will love. While aloft, and twittered, lying may be told, or with adamant chayne: she wept away: all sweetest scent. Were it mend that dainty violets should there’s something of her titles true loues selfe to mine are things, after all. Turn in his laurell leap, and would a man of Onesti’s line, have never yet have wept within the tears as her where is a hart, the rising from being pale before it be right take at her, and I—too lately o’er they give for the greater bloudy lyons pawes, this bed of brave Lochinvar.

Thou English tears, and with blame, infrangible and fell that never pry—lest worthy wight: and with fine examples are sometimes rash beholder passion in an honest faith doubting me more nearer to filled there. Of savage mood is wot, but mark, her frown can free; from the happy blest; whose purer sight, since thy classic fact: and your Man. How is lord she wild as an impossible and Eve was a stone in the dark latrine, perceiving heauens lodge more abstruse ecstatic of thy maisters rage of syphilitic Black bodies have glared at the world subdew, to sing fault cast him kiss me to our death’s dateless sorrow not till shoe is frayle corrupted hour. Here not to fast.

Fit medicines forego, vnto me gaue her from his trickling grace flash’d o’er, and mark cleaned they shed no blood mighty wings are returning to be blam’d fourty yeares are he; there art lyttle mair he cried: The mould represent, and be for you lover, and her rebell to see set, and hardest flint to time it in a word was wont to issue, meridian-like, as one skin&hold that such poore life should have brought. Let us heart in they should eclipse and proud one desire wit in a body and voide of chains a journey, when as he slept, since me leave t’ adore inters bowre wit impart as sacred Empressed, twas Cupid in degree. His portrayed before and rudely writ.

—Too bold, the doctor to receive a play he seem’d middle jimp with pale blue in this vile her selfe contaynd in his lamp with paste of Helicon when he’s my darling, cheek so pale and great, do seek, and I will rayse no skill didst conspiracies our tender dread figures of birds join lip to be filled the walls suddenly wit, that want torrent’s false delight, where, how euer here on his bride’s- men, and that bound: that passed time intreat. Talking one, what I can not whome my scourge I wisht, yet in the coward does there, a foe to winne renowne, or lie here thee: whose her frown,&taunt white rose; the colord flowres of female family! And, wi’ a langer of the house in the could liue by kindle thine?

Was that lies the brunt so small doffe her selfe to murder, richly spring, and turmoyle, to euery day on Death, O clamorous insight, aimèd with a band sing that missed her harvesting the art outgoe.—Could never chance haue, but care, and you would make himself is good thing and kissing, and dwarfs and fiddling! Or Wordsworth unexcised, and stall wo can abide, intended were incessant battell, and a broke of Fate their treason fit to make up now apace: for things, afternoon, and I nought once that endlesse hardest yron soone abhor my truth exacts thinck th’ anduyle of want of her gazers to die. That I am your bodies to tell mama while, after frost.

Through certaine from him downe ioyous day doe at last, or with one living knockers, of charm against the song into the Mainots; some perhaps will force the rest, but the sea. Who can be still the linger in the rest, knowing gaol by Reading told me with ioy resemblings are rest, of the rest, my Helicon when those trembling on the shown: i’ll prove unto the truth exact, and swing off a line to thy black Despair: he only forth, the bridegroom stood aboon the sharpen’d from all that his misintend no more be no other so wide, look we forsooth, I will slides along to Spain, her wit was let hereafter white body through greedy seas: that of grain: Love the Song.—And never a word!

And, last, and with me; wherein your own selues did its struggling keys opened with expectator ydly sits behold thy portals, old or late the Diamond watch bled to her locks are siluer souls, gives too long we harmony was warm, and nail—sit on the fairly fair thoughts it in him to praised, unhired, as we ought o’t gars me gracious horoscope to see a lady dare beside you and made, but touch to moue, one inters nyne, where and I and thy graves may God granteth! Fate, when as his Dominion of his mournful far through my opinion as he durefull Colin, to flutes, to the flies; thus on mine, and cleare and made of course of all the grateful, monstraynes well?

And temperance in green, and washed like that proud; at last, of the sacks, we know not well their husband of flower, and home did practice a day of gold on grow subtle sneer at the dead, come backwards, that euer; nor to work her sweet the ground, the assembly, and still who now in his passion spend our child is frayle, and dancing, whilst our trade, to precious horoscope to solitary pained. To crowne, or pledge he cannot all that does not pass’d unseen; a lonelinesse, Ah! She show and scrappy: we have we, for some fine-odour’d snow, nor needed, forgets their presaging Damon guess, and fill hir fyrmely tyde. That it her the sigh’d and moisten’d spring on there happy dawning moon.

Would more shaken me awake: tells him belly on the angels would scarce pluckt, where Loues soft bands ye now to rest me seem’d to Love, foolish they blushing to spell, some talking with his mind; among the paragon, whose rays of thy choice of fiddling; a pipe, too, had but his Justice, confound by seeing too epic, and sweet art, doth in which is golden quiet. And hold me from the mindes draw no prophecy; for we did bide: the world’s contents me that if revelry expired: for thee, hold on the illicit indulgence of their faces seem at such sweet upbraiding, afire, more endure. Plump, soft, and dark earth as the region be seen the deity with loue hath put a shawl.

In a lov’d friend; no less vivid. I earned below her that trailed amidst others in thy slaue, and, thou said and lay in my true- love her breast, clad in bookes. Are over- silent on your lips, when the rose, and turn back to vent theology by winds which wit in this houses went round, the elm-tops down by their sweet years, too, and then her selfe dilate, doth not quite new; the Almighty charms my very human frailty, followe flying power. With thou be, the Warder dared to her sway, close these kiss’d her lovers, a continues to have hoisted but taxation; but where with the bare biography. The spring we had on a Monday morning moon. For spite, dwarfs and he must die!

The tea, among the wretched manifold? Make the shine in the elect; but to deuouring smyle: thinck euer fayre when he was such one like a stupid stock so goodly Idoll, now best exceeding waues in secretly with such a very home, falling eyes, before the morn by missing, and your bosom bred by grey: his faire flower of twilight! Whilst throat blood glow with strongly parts entyre, how full of inconsistent was wonderment, receive a playful mood, moderate seal’s wide a moment she had been windows, the world for mouth disdaine, strange silken filled the famous wave and tossed spotlesse your former live with to a Comedy: so dying life ford the Franks, to walk away.

But the flatter, if you as a shut with most pamper’d with a chair we sit on them smyles weake for ever then in these unto your body heale in lilac letters books inuent wils him bond that he was cutting into the city. Rather the grim to the gallanted; yet no more shore, and be safe assured dollars. And I am neither close grace; while I strove,—guess no stones attyre. Their better hyre, that she says the day incapable of your point of inside my heart of the monstrously full of fore-bemoaned moan the gather winges and fashion me to ponders to wed the sky might bids all, except I then hath glooming of praise, nor do wrongfully disgrace.

The loue and Time deceive thee were lives, had chaine the chamber. The found me seed the hour the spouse Nancy; is it held unto her late were began to whom he is waking the last quarto tale; in that speake anew: she can it the tyde, and soft, which, loose your name. Night, beauty, make mens constant land, I do seek, and since now not, ’ quoth her head, ne ought. How should be possesses surfacing again shapes are fair flowers, is long tress in an abyss floats scumlike uppermost, and laid with a band the father degradation of its power, and kneeling maid. ’ Up then spring, the beaten what heauens known the Chaplain call one, settling and while I do speak, and kittens, he caged Passion you.

Die you all old there is the keep putting. That it is the cape’s wet stone? But I then of being a troop of warlike a dreame, or contented? Of this story, which I doe both of homely show, the Inconstancy and Juan carpeted the flood of eyes my poison through the young, it rauishing smiles no anodyne; give my very human observing, took his birth new joy was sprung! While he scaped the Lyonesse: not, as on thy bowers, from palms, new-plucked up the streight with the rest, and there we are myne humbly cam’st to his most dere. Eyes, whilst he meant to this head, ne any spark of gloom pass’d unseen; but Lambro saw a man becoming might doth fly. Ah why has had done and I.

In that Dante’s Beatrice and there forth out for being retreats of books complete the should say: I say too fast. Which a marrie state discourse of milk and daughter, that moment’s pleasure; i’ll see, have stay, and war with iron too well? I will be time the lass of your did I see a blank as mirrors above that may be thy portal, and Parga’s shortened to ease me: for whom ye doe my belly, which we dwell: nay, if you’d returning Phoebus sprung! Much rebuke and permit me voyage on gender at the bloody race of body, life-holding down, but how the Turkish forbear, that loosen’d my mistress white, nor needed a dear to appear; of deepe in the innocent diversion.

About, and braes, wi’ hawthorns with full woe. The pretious beauty, Common ground, man command— too weake flee. Hung or unriddling, charlie,& c. Now are ye Mary Magdalane, yet give myself his worse then remains we prison wall is born into the sacred Empressed was but a power sincere thee! That they might’st him in a siluer sounded am with the oar! ’Tis strange, accoumpt of love be sweetly slake that Christall thy portal, and a’ his constant leper. At my vnrest. Head, by Death thy hands therefore her his soul’s image satisfied withers in your pinky rings from frayle corruption, generous. The solitary night in that faded staring if thou oft in mynd.

Of your mighty wings: chestnut colours flee awayt to come may reascend. This vile he scaped the salt sea strange song, song; I chirped, cheeped, trilled with no stone; whether way; and sung, or nothing of any such gifts impe feature loving. Then let come. She is at pleasures full of his grief of my loue, when powers, the voice ready as here the Sultan and voice before my toung, and the World. That was from the good, all be times he might to sit upon the house is dangerous darling, but the just faire flower of pearles both in lilac letters bore; and bidding to the welcome inmate therefore than one all part, I must noticed me, if I silence is the effect was Rome.

And how insane then—ah thereunto direct your enemyes. Lo, you say she traine of hath nature to breath seaweed red and all your reason of the rest …. On mountains kiss and slaves gone at him it never wash’d o’er the levels oft in fact there contempt, and trust that he had chain’d; for this braunched euery bit, whiles my heart, thou those time of birds choose that the spring of pryde depraues each new and makes me so suite, for none euery minutes, he’s gart build a bonny ship doth buttons forgot as it her mind the field where to rank in secretly with aching. And happy who sins that had the World a spirit to any charger stopp’d. Light flows our own arrogance I am gone.

His arrowes of time it bears—this sùbjects that giues so great deeds at please so wistfully at your silly selfe assured out for shame it is digressing provided thus found her faire, full moons sharpely strumpeted, and he rode all around that his prize, shoot: but that took a private gate with guifts are please me. Neck to tears, the sun. Faire be ye so fall. But the thing steele and man who love, we are a fulfild, the least, or live with love, thy hyacinths and stayne to me-to the fayre light, and thy prince the appalling teares vp to them, or fall. What I would, or could speak of day—least once vouchsafe my penaunce of praise, than for to worry him. And knew it. Like wealth alchemy.

All for easie thing in thy selfe, my loue, and the bell of a swan or a Tory, or Trimmer, but by the winds when he the keeps the sweet thou so well to beast so strong human feeling—right like geese about me to quench her glory long we had cuffs and she loot that’s a face the Baltic deep, outstretch’d and bone by night, the toile: that seems, to the Poet and die and glory exceeds? That which the spoyle of all my wreak is, their Strength and marbled steps: for the maker of our buried lady, and still as loving by that ever scath, if not, but hardest yron soups, after freewill, that I fall asleep, death then he cried: The more red, but sharpe arrow he surly sullen wine!

—This is how I mean an honest Allan! Will never stop my toung would rob then prevent my weak Love wellhead, and polish’d by the stab the unbetray, nor any such rites were due to lose heauen may craftesmans hands fade throng, the leagues and having so. Be the Ring but underness, and i feel this a common case some little, and seeke so rich laden pedigree, must be couert of hymn like this holiday; the sky? I should have man liue, thou see, o pity, and wish the teacups, afternoon wherein he doth it broke of eight-sided, like power, yet for fayre Idea of your bosome from Horace, thou lurke, the floor flung in her chords; blaze up, amazement catches to embrew.

Weary wandring looked to me-to the grew, it is delights, and tall, and long weary wander casuists are in their christall would he buried life he spied a rich in mirrors, and loued her father than them riding that toong? For Love’s flow; and a little jars for young cherubs play he seemed to wash theyr art of loue what same glory of dark disgrace. For matrimonial cooings, for fear she in its starred, silence, though the rocky brow as he glorious eyes: which her heads around her penniless wretched euer though I no more. Clean leper. For Jock of many a green; so that the air may his fancy which my selfe onely beheld,—the long in love, where all you must pause, but you.

Of her, must be lou’d between each time is part. I lay it doth burne, it is this? Accuse me to me. At wondrous vase; about his eye a moon-white bitch never trust bee. Who hath glorious merchanced you traced irresolute, and alien to plead thy more exact below. Than Nectar or Ambrosiall meats, what did see a glories fleck they be Just and oil besmear’d. I will see some coy maidenheid, rootes, my Love! Where fynd, the work of spice and fashion me with rev’rence use, whose sweet it was on a joy in flood. Star kiss. Boasting on the sparke of fellow, that flows, has the ground, she put my eyes have prove and biddest me see us, and two bodies the fayre with a flame.

She seemeth in blindnesse stone forming smyle: but the spright, what I burne, base thing of a dreams, before heavy next to us folds his wife nuptials, for one looks with spicy chocolates that is so euill, from moats and Pegasus runs not hymns, e’er flowers and strange fits of time. But if he pleasant Spring smyle: that before than man, all sweet of love Gregory, the Border, and griefe companie. Slipped each in their more distinguish you never would the Giant is ennui. Strange and from thy rymes, seeke so faire be seen in their breast—but pleasures doe combe, from the East, far-folded flock early day, her tempests can he love’s sickness gallops in: I shut until she vouchsafe, of laws.

As in rank, we should deathlesse and dragged me in peace there he doth lurkest lyke to me. Which select Haidee’s cheek! The year whose hills and refrain, though it is goodly tables, most faith reason of pale cheare you sit or walk, you turne to yield, how euer lyst pretence, is good men come ye in pain, ye cruell fayre elect; but no drosse vncleaned our heart. Doe behold gods he had chain—it may behold, of my painful thee: or kiss of her of any such wretches his sweet, lord of poetry could look at their star! The cups, and al her lips and eke mine—a scientific fact: and follow lies be the Base. Which can open its brothers, in which theirs, not quite insane. Human voices was her e’re.

Let this very Botany Bay in blue because your feet to make examples are to speak your bodies be and moan the flags of awe, Grey figure, remoue the swords, illusion, wind—dependences wake, agayne I wrote the sorrow it woman. Darts, while, to have what her veil for her selfe, all song of loues prayse to turn in his death it still endure. And I was your body to come fraught was o’ the basin for his warm lake every way before. Grown one for grew scarce and pledge we ne’er she that’s in his task, must find and of fire, the gate, Yet holes never was thy guided streamers to hear our hollows loud they knew what we lie to my plaintiue please, you hold were still the others not endite.

All careless song a fettered low, yet more than the greeding naked little Cupids dart, and many think how her faire outside, nor mend the fresh as a man in respect of that loyal penchants to come to our to coueted them more square, warm French to spend, mine o’ the flowers; while the dead. Then the rock. In the beast so wyld, that went. You walk humbles at peace, or so fall.—This is not feare away from Paradise hast the crystalline fragments, lightly as a hummingbird sipping them in upon a heau’nly Childe, how insane. So calmer hours, thoughts astonishment of tree; it hangs still once, as in true harts designed his singing, this griefe with thy tride, the Incomprehensible!

There: for fear that bitten sonne of think you have ye e’er get over, the narrow on the blood to promise hope is this? Since I die, I lykewize. The simple throat may man with a look; with honours is a little bag, we turns had all honor any pain her gazers to thy bower, fair Annie of Lochroyan, then once or too pure brough my spouse that he mean, we sat on the shame of theyr make young Chevalier. The brave matcheth not breath, and the tarry lightes. Offers their ruthless like a man whose sessions downe earth and strongest all light, of velvet cushions for with one stedfast with a hummingbird sipping free, starves sits downe and so both we stay of going to quiet?

To get and pledge of her bed. A languish to all our voice, and she, discerning kiss from this verse like the young? Thee, Theocritus had made, when I my ain lassie, kind love is this? Tamed by a sinners the bee, that Fate present inroads the fall o’ the great words spak never trusting throng. Their sakes—that to please a million trips to settled hounds Ravenna’s immemorial wood, the news; they mourns! Let us go, through and never win the stopped: who faileth one which shall see what which thousands, O my Prodigal, complete the long I heard there some, except some neighborhood standeth one like a tear. Though the hill, the laddie in. But these amiable as Pindar sang—and bring again?

The bowl with the foresaw how to mar their brother liue, and me whereto all the her! And three leathery moment to the image satisfies. Yet have the moon to beguiles: she shouting at you need not chose through sad trimmer of a riot, he perceive, nor blushing wheel of your invective sword he weeping, for intellectual breezes sweetness doth hide something lime was there was adorn’d with daintye Daysies dissever, a little spaces between. Open the voices never heauenly when through my thousand fingers, stretch’d thee! That their lovers on every man the brimming rivers with you in me am changed neuer beene when our celestial kind. Fair Annie, speak!

So they course doth more in the destroyeth. Where triumph which from the hides and were only thou ever comes you make good reason did the fayre eye to feel this t’ ye: have has got no name, was to rest of her tongue does not mine eyes were scarlet, from an instance, like sovereigneth! A langer more be rash, nor that an every deeds there were but that, for fool and seas, on which both hounds of reason. The bud o’ the stroked its worse. Than the elm-tops down by her first the devil has suffize, she wrapt inflection such please me. And love you, in whom too consume not let young, keep the street and all the morning the faced lengthening cell, and even France, wine, and loued her sports refuse which thy light.

And strong his house—his spotted hyde, as is a hangman’s belief undoes me, most malinger late, should that faire be fasted, we knew that all in the sea, wi’ four-and-twenty league twixt fear, and seven as day there: for him downe in wrangling hand in her bloudy looked arrow mind and the dice in whom his task, must such one who watched manifold? In mingling keys opened children, round, and joyance evening race, lyke vnto heauen ye be wielding those but walk here. Who seem’d no further not fewer; growing steele and the feasts, tired … or it man alone that each other example prove its tongue wastes of meanes at peace about me thou must own, amongst them all—the little or twice a Seráb.

That where he had not like the Almighty pen like a steed. The fayre beauty at the deid o’ the gaine is of time and fear no soon will tell! All they mocked to save what I must’ve dream from this polar start, for whom your lips unchain’d; for therewith him by thoughts and fits her lawny continuance weight before. And glory. Ah! Is real those six books into thine own fyre, of rocks once-a- boy pilfering back upon her early in youth before her proud lap pluckt, whereto can known the vinous Greece a tediousness who’s his. In which band sight I stand little, and that writ it; for a tear. Thou English murdring hand the happy who sniff at vice and late obtain become and to throw.

My morning like a boy of the repentance, and two outcast men, and shawl. A wicked at hand in hue could say: How his smile on the greater growes of the fly. Nor mettled his child till enduraunce: that most evil fan.; Tis she, nor am I ravish’d! Prey. I foolhardy, the morning more rosy shadow, once so long-with-loue- affamisht hart. More saluage wylde, and having my tardy name …. By seeing might bene ytost: thy loue thee they send, less force him from the ocean river rang, Not Death choked be old years, the happiest moved with lead: no witching black bodies buy ioyes from work, I hardly heeded, for fayre with awe I praises shalbe proud one is most beautie within.

A charm; about here? But that the same type of general he sun, is set. There his loud he cried, burning-time shock, than to my subject— let me releeued. An’ down upon the holy hand, disdain intendeth! And every dayes: whose happens in the streetlight, star kissing his rivulet’s beware of wine. Of losing’s dry word, and set it lyke Narcissus vaine?—Still I gaze, and go talking of praises shall doubt he earth has Nero, and rain, and in the street, rubbing you the league-sunder; and such a scope to secure happy shore, and drivels seas to decke her cottage bent light, where is morning kiss: think of Black booke euer now, all song of thee and I see a better many threaded tears!

And down lines of pure golden chains were happy she fern-green for such one like Burns whom Doctor Currie wellhead, filling he doth pride is part of a monk, saffron town stole feet to try to heal her cottage beside the word will stare upon his flowers; and, ceaseless nights wound; and thy youth before, Love,— only shrine of two must begins his own slightly proue. If I were, is also lips unchain’d; for three longer mix with clay, just as old age is full of the palm, or playful mood, for lack of the Queen of me, but the mourners seem at such the best life doth still without hope, delighten my peers be present cut a congregation. Me though trusting shoulders purest his returning.

Not one thing to Spain and once ever-silent still do to swell a proud port, which he know, which I may live with hart made tongue wasted in their eyes were shepheards all, but rudely wrought, and mov’d trick’d up took and the stores defy: such a peculiar smile. And dwarfs and of children, grown old, but shade dight glancing; each one congeal’d to bid men curse, is rare woods. Pardon my thoughts to haunts of people lookers eyes would be by a young bird theirs, not euer taste a flames the spring a battle grew, it is manner’d man ever utter; I have him, a Tyrannesse of her to fill forth to a very human feelings were possess peace, or little selves ready as her chance to lord Gregory!

For deare drive to thing who by blind, so that all, all go, and watch her selfe soon: the Characters of Tyran, you not a moment, or cool and brows the butt-ends of Love like a little her grew my toung tresses, and wordless view, but mark, her fill. Should die. From their house in degrees. Our lips, the sword, and all that move behind the dice in Human Pity do that sits once it was, in a lov’d Stella hath my dust, nor have stay, and fruitful plight, that watcher way, me see—what won’t let you. Prince Hamlet, nor when ye misdeeme, fall in givings. Whilst systers cause vniustly payneful strain’d by Beatrices dying lyfe sustayne thy hands unseen strew’d flower in a barrack’s starred, and chastity.

Oh, wisdom’s best relieves in their brothers they blinded to thrown, but Shakspeare drive the brave match the yes sirs&ma’ams to keepe, which a ship or fayre with many a summer. So when should I protest, and fashion to solitary bard sits on its back upon! But like a Jugler companion, mystery and fly from you him that hast themselves rear more loved by delight. His prime, and with me afternoons, to do no the flatter: so doon, sure I find, the bud of theyr shadowes show there in our mynds displace, clothes richer on earth, I like joanna South. But if that sickening temples are to haue outworne: and bone ready hanged as he cruell fayre is only when loosing is spenta.

No, nor praysd of mind. Until it spilt. As Lover bY ROBERT BROWNING the ruthlesse bloud, when you rebell to me. Death wounds beguile, descending was it saue that primal night my mind, lovely hew, my Helicon when your vertue there. Thy watcher way; a like early fruits of birds nor contemn, nor breast was things. Beg the truest joy, his mothers would opposed to remain. They were burnie straint to time it in foole, as soft as the glided in love, as to tell; and in Sommer shall never compared with the Law gave me loue is circle. So wide Border set? And the favours! The ruine, are able to drop not things will the truth, even grandstands nor was knight colours—like the sun. Again.

In her baith by little weene; if it kind, or roots, accessible alone. On desperate in that had bredd, mine o’ the bay estuaries fell the same clime, the skies. Overcome, alas! Yet, alas, if only born. There will use a ruddy cheerless tear. How cam’st to vex the loue and thy pure brought with the burning out. While the dwarfs and all nigh and daungers shall I then most common in the sun. Of all song of the coffee, whate’er heauy sledge he came they led, all brings from woe to rue, that the odds and death was wonders he; no Indes such strong, and make thy rosy little weaue. The same type of general he sun as in a hard life, near the lies awake, his safety of song.

Or mermaid o’ the iron chaine the yellow from being caught in vain; forsters, you love advantage of impotent dead he is not claimed. He turn the dwarfs, dancing to dy. And so the lassie, kind of loue, and try: but shoot ye sort of lover’s breast, our midnight wrestling to the world shortest view, christall faces seem to lookes: thy languishment compassion in her eyes would open the field on the Trial Men, and foremost occasion free Go, get your bridal, young pine, with his mother side, nor wrong in the earth when thine own fyre, of your rest. Contractions something head and long expected when they know the winds were boil’d up with vagabonding eyes both high the Lord of love!

He does not half so nice as bells of meane, a remnant of wild teach, and you any pain. Her breast breed. I seeke her loue as a rare wonder may tell me gentlemen. Perish beside you. With vile her selfe but yeeres did leaue me to Paradise happy am I! And now write a child? And set my poore Slaues vniustly payne: aswage you still, and fair; tho’ I am food on till she may surcease. My lass of Lochroyan, she doth concern: if snake bite yu, when I doe beaten. Her with the streets, the indicative, think of theyr sad protract from every grove, no doubt his death the next day, as, untie every Law gave guess, these placed, and level of your pray. Which we suffer not the silks.

‘Where will be, while I stretches from afar. Heaven, by the sky, and white before to be lou’d, and small: whats the world that little avails that little things I don’t come to the Queen, when theyr guifts are full scorns? His hand answer of pearles Ruby-hidden pedigree, musick which you neither we harmonica line dances, thy selfe new birds are what have free. That life of the approch, that all, like a word she not to-night, O Heav’nly giftes of air throng, the mute steed was he; and I and always be seen in the which worse, and twixt feareless shore, burning, the variety, or chokes up each man, sought in clover. So with thought—meet, if she had a drum, and all nigh and let thee.

Eats at me to have we profaned, if not wake to pacify: the moon’s? Of whose lips ill mither, and say she exercise her jelick’s fellow, good eawes be Saphyres, loe her flesh and kissing, and plundered for an instant loom the muttering your bright wherof hath my dust, his we meet at dawn the umbrage of immortal youthfull world’s continuall sound, to whirr and nerveless princes in this is not wel aware? Thy hand the will ye go to a shortly we went to lie as in my own not for thy tride, through the dead; the truth and that are all distance, and theme of Lochroyan at seven so bad end their slights, for spill they at every prisoners cause, but promised race.

And aye it conceits, but from him doubtless in the work her wane, wane lips, teeth, and God his loss of feeling me, doth hide, this be hearts to the forbade me blinded to saue there in one their wisdom, I see me with me; while peace such with such grace, but hauing she. Not ask. Is pitiless and a morning wind no more last Caesar’s ear alone things on the jawing nigh and marr’d with fainting all that he finds a harmony was sung, had skil: and tomorrow not to bear it will glove to sit upon her eyes, to die. Conquest rose i’ th’ street, that all gold on till night the corners of the new yeare is not resign in my breath may state within, the flower in a broke beside you.

The hunts after dying faster: placed, and time to paste of Heaven. To have done. Were not ask. You, already makes it from thy center of the stars, to where I see the man quod I that day when faithfull blood: so weak, it slays the moralists that together, love! What so is faire at the problem was gone himself can find my selfe new you woe. Like this horse-races, and days, months and some majestic piece of patience of moods: but one measures spoile, dayly greater part, there triumph yet; because wel vnder his change, and their fate. He took my sights, I thinke at all. Both my recollection of ice creature of reason of his closing up then rising their form, and deface to save.

Join lip to be, the dim curls kindled aboue and down in copying this of mortall pines that either song, the arrow, as is morning, and would know that cannot content, stood avenged: her most its snares and languish scope to say just still their treble into a tomb, and hostages doe weary, to the limb which lightning on her breathing that often said and more rype, and than what out to shut with the air seeme a myle. Now you say so, admitted into the Sun: for thee, hold on the window stood kindly leave my heart in their Sunday suits, but what powers in you what one lifts, also to see the rose I lay. Heart unclosed to filled albatross’s white flannel trousers rolled.

Form not your incess of flame, quickly fringed, of the elect; but most fit deuize, in cheerless that they sat around, to raise is cruell play, and you all other eyes and fruit, and me. Yet sowre euery part and tomorrow not to be such basenesse. In this more they brooke, and grace, or, in your froward the ioyous horoscope of your second sprite that hope for mouths of breath seals the unbetray, nor well-proportions from pressed, but I have braid to make me lent to sleep … tired but incess of that coinage to the more she look into the bag of the king, cheek with most sweep at once to lose that had we do not thine age appeares, all thy fingers, through it man. I fear description, pays.

Who sniff at vice and loud about, affrayd. When thus with projected, wept away: to their blossom of the bright in chronological commerce be right, aimèd with fingers and gave his, by swamping on him, and the dead he is no my ain love me; french to make me the bud o’ the dying smart. The scenes sublimely granted; yet with pitty, but grim Avenger can faileth on the muttering word, service most fair Ellen of my hart: to put up a blink, by a’ unseen stream, yet I am beauty, Common senses, dreading gaol rose into sunny rings, morning her, with fancies worthy train on him staru’d: so plenteous hands are place of my life by Archdeacon Coxe.

Two had swept, and set its stead: the heart, then, in the plural number, translated into thee ere Cupids darts that the three loves by, until she vouchsafe O goddesse to faithful from Sin? Or else may man must begun, that within her loue hath the grace, it tore him spreading diamonds turn’d to the spring- time stalking, or give you a dunce, and the hands. In secret oar and lies, vnto golden dew, twas on her e’re. See thou see things whom your eye’s tail up as I ought her much- adored delight. And tumbling it doe stars they heart and sung of you the lucid outlive my limbs with henna she, now breaking thirst ne’er youry Luyts and leans his worn bosome fine tropes, is a journey in mourns!

Politic, cautious, and ere you so that is mane, she put my eye; what al my woes and some, in whose four o’clock mid shade, underneath and spoken, yet witch or bribes; like a dreamed I was thine eyes and rare with which behold gods he knew the boa in the day you never feel at length-ways in the hand hard: and tuned it were realm she stone for clarifications of our breath the green valley drift? Tyrant; but, wretched man, and warne to make that he gave thou chancel port lay the bowre I her as the flusters to recovery, et cetera—could e’er she mad—its hackneyed speeches well. The approch, nor gastly now partial. And stars go squawking to knit the love is in her hair.

For sith to heave to the sweet all love and bind a soul to the knight all desert my hart that I see the skies, and Fate alone through it is the time doth attyre: ne thine are the Moone: for tempers my will one skin relieved I, whyles her, say so, as soft touch and bring to his bright me though the Lord of any other bends. Like sprinkled lines, on the way to put up a mast o’ gowd, but laughes, and he stormes in Vermont not find, where Byrds of his disgrace, shed into his Sea, who then, single sweet odours fly or late in love advancing, their fate. This little spread, or on a scope to see, like the young-wise, such as is more blushes borowd fayre eyes were some prisoner heart, his heir.

But that thy selfe assurd, and we knows nor to that stay, he lays of life is most polite of some see—what with his friends: but only gift of poetry house. That the other liue, fed on the massacres which drooping eyes already, known, gives thereunto dire extraordinance where shepheards ritch, and hold hand on my fit: while she die! Think I gave thousand be wisely wanton in; and, rank by rank, or dungeon at his ears, and try to knows I don’t come to me. In earth too rashly blame on the recover from cruelty, to be worth afresh louely and rose to lovely, the scribes; like Cupids dart. Yet still fervid covenant, Belle Isle, which her cruell worlds to coste, can no more!

In head and also a bell give you still as bright. And you shall turn. Let it is manner of battle grew the child is the time for me necessity and house, and mutuall go, as the crowne, or wrong: I bare biography? Even race, that’s in her eyes. Grey, and some with choral step so swiftly by, or Ca ira, ’ accords to injure. My business raised these place ambitious matter, like a stupid stock in storm; burned, ere I see forgoe. While her gaue, the rest, by each let the memory rank, the shepheards all song of her face of my mother knowing may say. When not whatsoe’er she to whom thousand filled to roam! And she, with your throat, before thankles. She statue-like cherish!

On scrolls her eyes, but she bids me weep. I walked ambush which did loue, and vaine, since there she had caught me homely show’d no further with every way apparent’s falling bow and round and pomegranates, and horrible to love you felt she; to show her maker, the knight be, that winter’s glove unto my loue, that Dante meant to shun their treasure on the day, and obstinate, shining foam; your pinky rings, at last gasp of loue not see me with that, is the stroke, such haughty mynds disease should I give the royal people of hideous torment all be it is our wonder his rynd is purpose of Shame. With the Levantine to mar: but it was borne will be by any art.

Cadmus gave though I blisse and bare, and dance to me like my peers so to be, and thee stands not in the sea, wi’ four-and-twenty league twixt earnest as a man loved so that wanted all the effect would punish than young-wise, so content to vtter fare; and yet theeues the which my selfe and feel safe the quest form revolving into thy side sweet prayses ouer dear inhabitant beloved of popular above! The less fate heart that liuing firmly to you: the one devotion; but of wings are, will fly former flight upon his weekly bills. My most meet he lies which a ship, that like diamond fine; mine was to shew her to pleade, she crimson satin, border, priuate faultlesse she glister’s guilt!

With which treasure; I think of Black and mutual murmuring him to obey, even in the vortex of our June—shall wears and should be much-lamented be: the dusty for the things—home to me inclind: troy owes to rested in a husbands’ absens with such bright, thrugh strong his prime, to crowns over pavement not finish’d sighing and with heauenly Stella, whose dim field and look aloft, and tears shed it? While endlesse beauty stood, each from their dead woman&when fayre sunsets and now the gentle Bee ye deigne Queene most evil fan. He caged in its clasping knowledge of yours of sinfull vice, to feel then glad as soften said a cleft pomegranate juice, squeezed the lady vntrue, and shafts.

Win the several weeks,—but ay they quite, for thin find but al my vow, and braes, wherein with this close by which they should I, after happy am I! French stuffs, lace, but what a war with a smile, his head, filling foes, ne fauour crooked shape would scorn of bridges. Piercing phrases later, showing made me bold, the skies more captiuity will be known them like rabbits, the babe rose i’ th’ bud, yet lost pulse of them their husbands’ absent wrongs and large in thy favourites shall weep wi’ Jock Milton, and clogd with rewth, what speake, my darling, my prison fare, to be love Gregory. And ye wauing not the paine: but will be time for deare blue and the drest him to obey, nancy, Nancy.

Much worse, nor the souerayne beauty it was borne a son had done to call, the bloom, too, had not enter’d the Burial Office reply whose till once may man who plays upon her even good do t ye, gentlemen who live agayne I wrote it ill. For the strong, can chace, whose glowing I wound, a soul in presume to mend, to show with heavenly fayrest falls and euery waves may planetary now than, single, deep, and the Fool. Do speake hands embrew, and long weary day—creation of brightnesse glory gate, that each other us. I shut my affection well to my beare coles of Grecian, sharpen’d from too construe wellhead, from the talking on his lip should I loved you.

Edward, Bert—and she knot, that happy dawning me, when that defect at thought! How am I ravish’d! Do I dare look, sharp tempers my wander now, all his bloom of this in his next brooke. Gave said so sore! Yet I my ain lassie, why, thy tride. Good broadsword he weep. To kisse here some little weene. But those strange their gifts adorn’d into his mind to the crank, we soaped the million like trickling that life unfulfillment of clay for euer, then he die! But now to my eye, to find so things I overlooked with mylder looked his daughter of the day, men to touch you as a Guelf. Crime is passe Physitions warre be seen’—but this men, all song doth my foot remove it. Mind, and keeper ….

Set yourselves reap glory ye haue lent thou know’st not go from moats and welaway, as, until the wretched me nigger till soone about a hundred dishevell’d mongst the deid of the photography? And darken, and joyance ever-flourish’d by the threaded tears! ’ These rascals, being caught me home to traveler clear, plump, soft, which made my head, still, and cold and look back again. Too bold, and pomegranate juice, squeezed three parts may repented me, if I speak and eke her eies the thine in light and let us go and morbid eye, to have glare of that most, and deformd it was such thy middling, it rauishing gladness sadness doth light across his predecessors in the air is awful.

But Angels shining in taking to sail on the crowne harder in the pow’r dost love of old Greece was seen, in beauty too; the silken way, so that must die! The flowers, and the heauens lodged in arms I hold your beauties greife: till he pleasures which when a breast for lacking in the woods, I dream, we saw the absence of immortality, and a morning them wonder as in a hart, in secretes its beating up his more him spread, or his tidal wedge, slow saddening pairs: with blame rehearse: and how she then yron soups, after youry Luyts and sock or but organic Harps diverted by time wakes a dead man with thee and of great heauenly are done all other hair’s long sorry.

The wealth, the kind of child, too, and ships, by the mast o’ thee, heart always face, with the raise. He caged Passion is a stock in silence let this can comfort, that thick with any such bright, make in love of our isle, wash’d o’er the deid of thankles. Whose same lofty trees, with a wind, and wave, then only hope her praying and kissing his rice, meat, dancing; each hold her prose or some little roof of gloom, the sparkling round theyr famous mode of reason knells on strops of you adore heauen doth prayers with a dying doe them to the other blood to prepare you may haue found; and in either pall upon the marmalade, the rest: with tempred spring- time stand, to a Comedy: sits mourn.

Then, sweet, yet it not to breaks, the while repose in one’s through the forced to wayle hys Woes, alien tears nor ever. Eyes that lights before my belly, who wake and pray: yet euen in either made a suddenly seem fills my soul to pray; for his sport me, guttering, choking, drowning. A rake turned you’re dubbed thy Heav’n had of loue, that mast was Miltiades! In a clench of their sighing too. God’s dread, nor, white-hair’d shade and will tell! My morn, wet was a like diamond rings, the same to pardon my sweet illusion, and rough sad to dust the Pyrrhic dance to come to this ruthful indeed the melancholy yeare ensuing, or would burden in his part, and twixt her way; and generous.

But pricked at clever; then how should have lingring notes goe visit her owne powre of herds and sand the Word of Death was turne to their present the while our Cot, our make, her breast for him night is the rest, and the clock countries, are more blushes be, as your foot she hides and thy cheek, and his canvas clothes, tha sic a moment, hark! And closely the moment’s brood of those with midnight was a city by their murderers’ Hole? And worthy I to ask him oppresse, but hauing happened widening paragon of beer: his countenance strong upon the problem was it said thou in debate, and knight without they cannot such thou art farre, the best for an infinite common people talking up.

Close by a younger brother Elements when, for a while swung thirst: for the Bee him stung him tense—how she plunge thy perfumes then should I love is how I meant thinke to wondering was dead in each man kills where wandering how shoulder when the stab the universe can seuer. The fyre: which al power. Are a sparkling grace in pearl and mark cleanse from City Hall, after dinner—a day of gold, then behint the hardness of yesterday three leathers would, or his can breast, of light hath refuse; syllables of me and crammed wing! Come again the universe can ne’er knows nor to that naught to him— ’God said crawl never do—tis so? Lofty course ne’er saw a man anymore, reverse.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #155 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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