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1800titz · 8 days

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WOOO second part to the pornstar!au (Tiger Harry). Find the first part here

If you'd like to read more goodies from me (including a RIDETHET!GER threesome, already up!), my patreon is HERE :)

CONTENT/WARNINGS: p-in-v, anal sex, Sir kink, choking-ish, light dom-sub dynamics

WC: 4K

“They’re both just such pretty holes,” Harry coos, and he thumbs apart her lips before folding over her to reach for his priorly discarded smartphone. His confession is mottled by a sigh, “…I simply cannot decide.”

Tiger has perfected the art of edging.

Not even in a literal, tethered-from-the-sweet-peak-of-precipice with an iron hand wrenching backwards sense — though, she’s seen plenty of that through his camera work. It’s a finely formulated craft, making her skin itchy and her cunt weepy before he’s even really touched her. And he hasn’t. She thinks, maybe he’ll nip at her clit with the pads of a forefinger and thumb, but he doesn’t even do that. Instead, he takes a step back. The phone pings. Action.

“Spread,” Harry tells her. Light. Easy. Pats at one cheek, “Here.”

Y/N obliges. She rolls onto her shoulders and tucks her arms behind her, splaying her fingers and pulling the flesh apart there. There’s a hiss like a breath coming in through little nooks between his bare teeth. It feels absolutely glorious.

And lewd. A torrid kind of heat climbs up her neck. Lingers in the apples of her cheeks when Tiger pets at her thigh — probably taping a close-up vista of her oozing pussy — and comments, “Look at that pretty, little cunt.”

Her digits jolt over her flesh, squeezing it apart almost desperately when he traces the back of a finger beside her clit, and then meanders up to her leaky entrance, prodding with the tips of two fingers. Not quite breaching. Tiger slinks one — a forefinger— up the short trail of her taint and nudges at the hilt of her plug, tracing the petals. Stuffed with silicone flora. Pretty.

“Fuck. Fucking gorgeous.”

He sighs all soft behind her, and trails lower.

“I think—“

Harry scopes the hood of her clit with a thumb and then pulls it back to scrape with the pad of his middle finger — a motion that makes her jerk and wrests a soft sound from the back of her throat. A deviously mirthy hum comes from behind.

“I’ll fuck you here—“

The tip of a finger brushes her weepy, pulsing seam.

“—first. Stretch you out a bit before. Sound good?”

She hums against the sheets. Please. Tiger traces the rim and sinks in to the second knuckle with paltry notice. His fingers are long, fill up more space than her own. Lengthier than hers. Girthier. They prod at the nooks and crannies that yearn to be grazed with little effort on his part, and by the time he’s sunk to the base of his chilled ring bands and added a third digit, Y/N is nearly drooling into the sheets.

“You are such a tight, little thing, sweetheart,” Harry hums. Enunciates his speech with the wet squelch of his fingers plunging, cradled warm and wet by her sloppy pussy.

A mewl gets muffled in linen when he scissors the pair, stretching the seam taut, and rolls his thumb in slippery circles where her slick has trickled. There’s heat swelling in the trench of her tummy; a warm tide pool sloshing in waves that crest. Higher and higher. Building. It overcomes her — this tsunami, blighting her ataraxy until she’s a slobbering mess at the foot of his bed, keeled over.

“Gonna—“ Y/N warns, brows pleated and mouth pried apart, tongue brushing bunched fabric with little couth.

Tiger milks her through it, rigid fingers pumping and thumb swirling clusters of spheres into her pulsing flesh, until all that’s left of her are melty shambles with a weakly fluttering cunt. And it does flutter, throbbing emptily as his digits withdraw. Sucks onto them like it doesn’t want to let go, and then spasms around bare atoms like it needs to be corked back up.

“Good girl,” Tiger praises. He sounds soft and pleased. Concentrated as his cockhead prods at her hole— “Got my fingers all wet, too. That’s two for two.”

He swipes them at the back of her thigh, so she feels how slick. The pink border of his mouth is probably twitchy. Traces of a smile scratch at his dialogue the way something claws in the pit of her tummy as he nudges with the fat tip. She feels melty. Frozen fudge on a summer day dribbling down the handle. She thinks, for a moment, with her knees and her shoulders seeping into the mattress, that English has slipped her mind. Nothing plucks at her vocal cords, almost as if they’ve been snipped entirely. A high sound crawls from the back of her mouth, though, when Harry tucks his cock into her.

He’d been big in her palms — the pads of her digits hadn’t quite kissed around his shaft when she was kneeling, sweeping her tongue at the slit of his ruddy head, and her jaw had strained wide apart to fit him in and swallow him down. Even still, Y/N hadn’t anticipated the stretch. He bullies his cock into her — just about halfway — forcing against her spongy walls in a way that’s nearly too much. Like a paw wriggling into a glove that’s two sizes too small. She feels him in her belly, deep, as he sinks in, inch by inch (hisses escaping the cracks of his bared teeth and scraping at the edges), and bottoms out. She tastes clean cotton on her tongue, mouth wide and muted dumb, eyes screwed.

A gasp shatters the lull, like one sucked in bobbing to the surface of a sea that’s going to ripple and kick her back under. It thaws in her achy lungs as a soft, dreamy moan when Harry fetters her wrists with one hand at the small of her back, rocks out, and pumps back in.

“There you go, little bird. Nice and—“

She cries out as his hips snap.

“Full?”

He rolls out slow, and her fingers twitch when he pummels in to the hilt. Ragged, little noises scarper from her mouth like he’s punched them from her from the inside. The ping of the phone sundering its video doesn’t register, but she realizes he’s tossed the phone again when he pets his free hand over her ass and stamps a sharp, stinging blow to it. Harry sets a brutal pace, then. Soft strokes that strain her rim taut and give her room to adjust simmer off when something scathing boils in the trench of his belly. He grapples her joints in his palm firmly, and the tempo of his hips smacking into her morphs merciless. Used and abused.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Y/N whines when his thumb presses at the hilt of petals stretching her littlest hole.

“Fuck, yeah,” He mirrors, snarling, and twists at the plug to siphon a whimper.

Inferno spumes her arteries when he wriggles the plug out, groaning, and replaces it with two wet, blunt fingertips. Three. They stuff her fuller than the plug had and have her wheezing for oxygen to mingle with the scorch that permeates her veins.

Her knees shuffle over the sheets, she squirms when he drills into her again and again and again, and he grapples at a love handle to keep her tight in place, “You asked for this— and you’re gonna take it, baby.”

Y/N does. There’s not any alternative when he hammers into her and burrows half-moons into her flesh with the ends of his short nails, but she doesn’t want there to be. She scrapes at the side of his palm with crooked fingers — the one that cuffs her wrists together and pants into the sheets.

She’s seen Tiger fuck. She’s watched the videos — a little redhead clawing at the stair-railing with wet eyes as he coiled her hair tight over his knuckles from behind, or a brunette keening under his frame as he tucked her calves over his shoulders, pounding in from the tip to the hilt and all the way back out. The ones with a curvy blonde clawing at the sheets, whimpering as he pummeled between her thighs, and the one where the woman with the pixie juddered helplessly over his lap, crying out as he stippled a slick trail of open-mouthed kisses up her jugular and manually bounced her over his cock with a firm grip at her hips that dwarfed her size. Y/N has seen so much of the impact in screen captures — slobbered chins, streaming eyes with mucked kohl and smudged liner. Tips of noses hued cerise or pinky and lips swollen and sloppy with spit. Still, she’s somewhat surprised to feel mirrored evidence over her own face as tears drip in rivulets over the apples of her cheeks, as she gnaws at her bottom lip and drools onto his expensive mattress. It’s not the aftermath yet, and Y/N is sure she’s going to be a disheveled mess by the time the camera on the dresser shuts off.

His cock spits ribbon after ribbon into her with little warning. He pounds into her, something cruel and brutal, husking growls. A groan slides up from the depths of his chest, and he slurs a string of curses, fingers twitching in her other hole when he empties into her pulsing cunt. Y/N absolutely milks him through it. Her slick walls spasm over his cock, and she whines like the same effects curdle her bloodstream and erupt across neurons.

When Harry pulls out, fisting at the base and gruffing a hum, he thumbs a bead of cum that leaks out to coat her clit. She absolutely sings, at that.

He lets go of her wrists. Twisting his fingers gently from between her cheeks, Harry blows out a breath and—

Y/N keens like he’s slapped her when Tiger splays his palms over the globes of her ass, spreads, and spits where he’d been fingering her apart. It’s glorious. Harry presses his cockhead to the glob of saliva smearing, still manhandling apart one cheek, and tells her, “Spread,” voice worn and mottled with pants like his heartbeat is thundering ichor in his ears.

She does. Her own heart hammers behind the caging of her ribs when he makes a lewd sound, breathy and awed as he smacks over her asshole with the head. He slides against her perineum when she jolts, spine zagging, and hums.

“Is it gonna fit?” Y/N beckons. Her cheek smushes to the wet spot she’s made against the sheets. It’s the most gloriously humiliating revelation.

He winds around the room to the nightstand, where, through tear smeared peripherals (like a bleary windshield coated with condensation), she watches him cull a bottle of lube. The cap clicks. Harry sets a knee up, and the bed creaks, meshing with a sound of amusement and a slick hand working lubricant over his shaft. Her lashes flutter as Tiger works two wet fingers into her, to the hilt, unceremoniously, scissoring. He pulls them out.

“F’course—“

Y/N gnaws into the smooth, slicky flesh beside her molars.

Tiger grunts. She’s forced to arch at the palm over the dimples at the base of her spine. As if to test the theory, the slippery head of his cock nudges to the puckering seam.

“…We’ll make it fit.”

Taking anal from Tiger, Y/N learns, is a feat.

A pornographically debauched sort of rite of passage. She’s seen the pictures, too. The teasers he’ll post on X with only the pink tip of his cock in frame, a ringed, vibrantly lacquered hand cradling the back of his partner’s thigh to tuck up and showcase an asshole oozing cum. And the videos; the ones where the girls rake their nails into his tri’s, knuckles bleached, necks strained as garbled moans climb up their throats as he burrows in. They’re always blissed out, after; their visages melty and the lines where their foreheads and hair meet teemed with sweat. She has to wonder, though, as he prods in, how they quite make it fit.

A high sound and a tight squeeze part-way over the tip has him petting his fingertips over the metacarpals spiking through the skin at the back of her hand.

“Just breathe for me, baby,” Harry tells her, soft unlike the seat of his jawbone and the grit of his ivory teeth, after, “I’ll go— slow.”

Y/N inhales. It’s stolen from her lungs in the form of a long, low groan when he stuffs the tip past and the rim rides over the ridge.

“Is that too much, baby? Yeah?”

She suckles a bit of the sheet between her teeth when he mends the stretch of his sloppy, wet cockhead with a thumb that swipes from her leaky slit and meshes cum against his cock and the taut rim of her other hole.

“…That’s okay, we’ll get you there,” Harry coos, “That’s the hard bit all done, yeah?”

It’s all hard. Hard, vascular flesh like a rock spearing her open, sinking in, sedate and measured. Viciously careful and slick, accompanied by a vicious stretch, despite the lengthy preparation. He’s measured in the way he stuffs in, nearly centimeter by centimeter, pausing along the way down his shaft. Even still, it’s an ache that settles deep the further he sheathes — the kind she feels down to the marrow in the little bones constructing her spine, her pelvis, her ribs when they refuse to expand for her lungs.

“Relax, sweetheart, relax. Squeezing me so snug.”

It’s just advice, but it’s strained; filthy. It makes her cunt twitch.

“Push out a little for me. It’ll— yeah, slide in nice an’ easy if you do,” Harry coaxes, pausing the leisure roll forward of his hips. Her hole flutters over him. He makes it another inch.

“Just like that, little bird.”

She’s been holding her breath for twenty-three seconds by the time Harry pats at one of her hands and instructs, “Play with your pretty clit.”

It’s sore, but not in the way that it aches as he presses into her. The pads of her fingers brush milky cum that’s managed to seep out with the flex of her muscles, and they draw a circle over the sensitively overstimulated bud that droplets have leaked over. Her lips pry apart that way her fingertips pry bliss into the outstretched palms of her neurons, grappling for pleasure.

“Oh.”

“S’it sore?”

“Mm-Mhm.”

“But it feels good,” Harry states.

It’s just that — a statement, no inquiry to the borderline prideful cadence of his words when he sinks in three-quarters of the way. It’s enough to have her breathlessly wheezing over her noises, digits stuttering in their shapes as she pinches at the hood.

“Breathe,” Tiger chastises.

For the first time, his voice is whetted, like the edge of a cutlass, and she imagines his dark eyebrows creasing. The tattoo of a ruddy handprint — a smack — gleans a loud cry enmeshed from the sheer sting of it and the way Y/N jolts, bouncing forward and back on unanticipated inches. It’s cruel. Mean with his peal of laughter.

He’s soft again. Mirthy. “You did that, not me.”

“You startled me,” she argues. Her chortles flux into another, blunt, “Oh,” when Harry rocks out a little and back in, cooing in feigned ruth.

“Oh, did I?” Harry murmurs, trailing a wide palm up the indent of her arched spine with shallow plunges, “Poor baby.”

She squirms when his fingertips wind to the vale of her waist, scrabbling up the ladder of her ribcage lightly. It’s only for a split second, but it draws a squawk and a string of giggles; in turn, a low hiss from him.

“Fuck,” Harry grapples onto her hips, craning his neck, a grin lining his syllables when he admits, “Every time you laugh, s’like, squeezing me.”

It’s devious — the way his palm scopes the cinched flesh in the same area it had the first time, reveling in the squeal the wriggling pads pry. Her jaw clinches and she nearly bites through her tongue when her teeth latch together. Despite the stretch, her hips lurch forward on their own volition and her knees shamber towards the headboard, the circles over her clit all but forgotten as her arms outstretch for freedom. It only gives him a wider canvas.

A soft huff seeps from his nostrils, like the view of her hectically sprawling is entertainment. He pins her bones in place by the hips and lugs her back, sharply enough for her to groan at the pump into her.

“No,” Harry scolds, tacking an ankle with his hand. He bends one of her knees back and keeps a grip over a love handle on the opposite side. “Where d’you think you’re going? I wasn’t done.”

He’s polite enough to cease the tickle torture. Considerate, on his part, she supposes, since he’s got the sole of her foot aimed to the Rough sawn oak beamed ceiling. The gunge of kindling lust spumes, and it clogs the sharp anticipation of his thumb pressing to the tender spot between her heel and the ball of her foot, like cruor. Instead, Tiger hones on jabbing into her fluttery asshole, drawing a slew of progressively humiliating sounds. Her top teeth seal over the sheet and she gnaws the fabric in between her incisors like a feral dog.

She doesn’t really get it until his balls are slapping against her flesh with the fervor of his tempo; what it’s like to be used and abused by Tiger. Mostly, it entails being glazed with cum, inside and out; utilizing the same loads to swipe over her clit that leaks from her sloppy cunt as he pounds into her ass with little mercy. No intent to give. And still, he gives plenty. She feels him deep, spearing somewhere between the knobs of her spine and the soft flesh sheathing her tummy. She can’t recall a time she’s felt so full, vena thrumming something sanguine mottled by him. The ache spurs the bliss building at her pulsing clit, and she retires to chew at the back of her free hand, tucked under her wet face.

Just up until the point when he yanks at her hair from behind, spiking tingles at the crown of her head, and directs through husky breaths, “Sit up. Up. On your hands.”

Y/N clambers. An inky forearm hitches over the column of her throat from behind. A sharper arch, a muscular bind over her neck, a palm that dwarfs the knob of her shoulder, and hammering at her backside with no remorse. His nails claw into her love handle, and in turn, Y/N scrapes at the tits of his mermaid, her flowy tendrils, her tail.

“You really— are a little anal whore, aren’t you, little bird?”

She slobbers over his forearm, “Yes, Sir— oh— shit, oh, fuck,” so he spiles her mouth with a couple of his fingers. She nips at his knuckles, and he digs green into her deltoid.

“Fhuh—“ Y/N slurs around the digits.

He strokes a stuttery whimper from her taste buds.

She keens, shrill, when Tiger slips his fingers out and smears her own spit over her cheek, “Oh, fuck— you’re so deep—“

Her eyes are screwed, and even still she feels the pant of his grin against the opposite cheek. The way his lips ghost and graze her skin wetly with a low murmur, “Fuck, yeah.”

He twists his head and siphons the same fingers to his own mouth, gets them wetter, and bats the hand between her legs away to pinch at her clit. To fuse saliva, and cum, and desperation, working ardent over her bud.

“Such a fucking mess. S’leaking all over my balls, you know that?” Harry purrs, nipping at her earlobe when she whines, trembling, “M’gonna fuck it back into you, after.”

Y/N erupts. It spalls into flinders with sharp borders, somewhere between his cockhead burrowing deep in her tummy, the stretch around him, the pads swiping at her clit, and the filth he muzzles into her hair. She shakes like a waving bract, torn apart in his palms, spewing cries. The tight spasm over his cock has Harry chasing his own release, shuddering behind her and doubling down in a brutal tempo that draws soft whimpers from her mouth. The sharpest one comes when his chest rumbles flush with her back on a long groan, and he twitches in her as he presses deep and empties every bit that he can manage.

Rough sex, even with a borderline stranger, merits a soft touch to meld the jagged edges of the shards back together. When he seeps out, hissing softly and bobbing, slicked with cum and lubricant, Y/N crumples into the sheets like the junctions of her joints have unfused, slipping from their sockets to melt away into a puddle. It provides an optimal view of her abused holes, one puckering at the air and dripping fresh cum. Just as he’d promised, Harry spoons a rill that trickles out with the pad of his thumb and brushes it back over the slick hole he’d just been tucked into. Feeds it back in to coax a mewl.

“Two for two,” Tiger parrots, dragging the backs of his knuckles up her thigh. It’s an obvious reference to two orgasms each, now, and wears a smile.

If Y/N wasn’t so melty, she’d probably snort. She manages something like a grunt with her face planted to the mattress. She’s probably losing brain cells. The bed doesn’t feel breathable.

Harry nudges at her hips until her pelvis sinks flush against the sheets and her feet dangle over the edge of the mattress. Then, he crawls up over her, cock brushing her clean skin soiled along the way. She rolls over against her will. Gets bracketed by his arms as he looms over, mussed, damp coils of his hair pendulous.

“Hello.”

She swallows. Her ass is going to absolutely ache tomorrow. Y/N finds she doesn’t mind.

“…Hello.”

“You took that well,” Harry tells her, head cocked and talc glinting.

The boundaries of his ruddy mouth tick upwards into a lax smile, and even still, there’s an eagerly …awake mien to his composition. She wonders how, after that, and how his cock hasn’t gone down, a plurry in shade and sloppily oiled. It prods against the bone at the side of her pelvis.

“You …gave it well,” she responds, forming the words despite the way they feel garbled in her mouth, between her parted teeth, off her lips like the crevices of her gums have been numbed with lidocaine.

He ducks his chin and laughs.

Y/N ends up lodged by his armpit, tangled by the firm muscle of his arms, thighs flush together, with her cheek squished to the plush of his pec; a cushion over where his heartbeat is clattering.

“I’m all sticky.”

“You like it,” Tiger sighs, raking a palm back through his tendrils, off his forehead, and musses the tousled curls there further.

It feels nice when his fingertips graze up her nape, sliding into the forestry of her roots. They tug lightly at the follicles at the back of her skull in a way that makes euphoria seep down her nape. It settles in the first knob of her spine and slink through to the next. She rolls her shoulders.

“D’you wanna shower? I’ve got one of those rain showerheads on the ceiling.”

If her inner thighs weren’t crusting over, the suggestion would probably feel like a much more intimate dyadic. Especially because she’s well aware he’ll slide in alongside her, slippery. Soapy froth sluicing down his abdomen, sudsy palms cupping at her backside, trailing between her thighs, and rinsing the evidence of their collaboration down the drain. It tastes like another sex tape altogether.

Harry has grapefruit musk body wash and a citrusy shampoo in his shower. They’re the same ones she’ll lather into her own matted bird’s nest.

He notes, from the sink, twisting the silvery band and thumbing over the center, where a tetragonal, incarnadine stone is seated, “You got my rings all sticky.”

Y/N stretches her arms over her head. There’s semen spilling down the insides of her legs. She twists her head and meets him in the mirror just in time to see his eyes crest, his mouth purse and carve into a simper.

“D’you wanna polish them off with your tongue?”

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arminsumi · 11 months

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˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍼 ꒱ LEVI BEING A DAD

░ 🌹 Levi x fem!reader

⚠️Cws; domestic fluff

░ 🍼Dad!Levi tears up when he first holds his newborn in his arms. He stares at his little bundle of joy analytically, searching its features for any that are reminiscent of its pretty mama.

░ 🍼Dad!Levi insists on teaching your child martial arts from as young as their toddler years 🤭 especially if he's raising a little girl. He wants them to grow up strong and independent. It settles his nerves knowing that his angel can defend herself when papa isn't around.

░ 🍼Dad!Levi requires a lot of convincing to attend his children's imaginary teaparties. He will sit there, grumpily, dressed up like a king next to his queen. "King Levi! Do you want more tea!" his daughter asks in a tiny voice. He keeps his arms folded, but his serious face melts as his heart melts, and he's stifling a smile as he replies; "Of course, princess."

░ 🍼Dad!Levi will soothe your crying baby back to sleep at 4 AM, no hesitation. "No, no, go back to sleep. I've got it." he mumbles tiredly, and lumbers off to the source of the piercing cries.

░ 🍼Dad!Levi never thought he'd make it to see the day he married you, let alone build a loving family with you. All the things that were absent in his childhood, he spoils his own children with.

░ 🍼Dad!Levi stern and strict on his little troopers, even when they're babies and have no idea what he's talking about. You reckon he's joking. Levi has a complicated deadpan humor that you only understand if you know him well.

░ 🍼Dad!Levi calls on trusty Armin when his kids need a tutor to help with their academics. And who will help teach his kids to stand up for themselves? Eren and Mikasa. Not forgetting, of course, Erwin, who shows them how to be couth.

░ 🍼Dad!Levi gets nagged to retell his unbelievable war stories to his kids. Come adolescence, they're saying "C'mon dad! We've heard this story a million times." and it makes him laugh. They have no idea, no story quantifies his valor.

░ 🍼Dad!Levi will spoon you in bed, mumbling into your hair about how he can't believe the kids are growing up so fast.

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sisisimss · 6 months

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/̸͆̅̿̎͞ ̎̅̿ ̄̿̈ ͆̈̚ ̎ 𝖘𝖎𝖒 𝖉𝖚𝖒𝖕 7 - 𝖌𝖎𝖆 𝖏𝖊𝖙𝖙 /̸͆̅̿̎͞ ̎̅̿ ̄̿̈ ͆̈̚ ̎

Happy Harvestfest! I'm so thankful for each and every one of you!!! ily. Watch the process of making her here! If you need outfit ideas, download some outfits here!

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏᴡɴʟᴏᴀᴅ ᴍʏ ꜱɪᴍꜱ

Unzip the downloaded folder and place the tray files into your Sims 4 Tray folder, which can be found at Documents » Electronic Arts » The Sims 4 » Tray. Can also download from the gallery (gallery id: simplug)

Place cc files from the cc folder into the Mods folder located at Documents » Electronic Arts » The Sims 4 » Mods.

Make sure to download all the custom content and sliders in the cc folder or else your sim will look different than mine

Here’s a video tutorial for the visual learners

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ тoυ

-Do not reupload my sims without credit or behind a paywall. If you decide to use my sims in your media, pleaseeeee tag me so I can see!

-Do not claim as your own! Have some couth…

Download Here bestie

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the-badger-mole · 1 year

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Hallmarks of the Season: Part 3

The rest of the morning was a flurry of family time. Hakoda had closed the mechanic shop he and Sokka ran for the day, and Kanna came by with a tray of baked goods she had made the night before. As promised, Katara sat with her grandmother and showed her the most recent pictures she had with Zuko. The wedding came up, of course, and Katara had to disappoint Kanna by telling her that they hadn't even decided where to get married let alone when.

"Don't wait too long to set a date," Kanna warned Katara. "That's how you end up engaged for ten years."

"We're not planning on a long engagement," Katara laughed. "We wanted to enjoy this part for a little bit and then talk about dates, but then this whole mess with the investor happened, and I don't think either of us has had the mental capacity to even think about considering wedding plans. Honestly, I'd rather just pay someone else to plan it."

"Now, where's the fun in that?" Kanna huffed.

"You know I hate planning parties," Katara said. "I'd be happy to marry Zuko at a courthouse then go out for noodles afterwards."

"No way!" Sokka exclaimed. "You're marrying a jillionaire! I expect to be served steak and top shelf liquor at your wedding!"

"Sokka, don't be crass!" Hakoda tossed a dishtowel at his son. "I need to be on Zuko's good side, so he'll put me in a nice retirement home." He winked at Katara.

"I'm starting to regret inviting Zuko," Katara grumbled. "I need you two to find some couth before he gets here."

"We will be on our best behavior for his Fieryness," Sokka promised sarcastically. "You might want to give Toph a heads up, though. You know she can smell pretentious trust fund kids a mile off." Katara reached for the dishtowel Hakoda had thrown and smacked her brother in the head with it.

"Zuko's not pretentious," she said. "He's a bit stuffy, but that's just his introversion manifesting."

"Everything is going to go fine, honey," Hakoda promised.

"Yeah, assuming he actually shows up this time," Sokka muttered.

"Sokka!" Kanna scolded him with a swat to his arm.

"What?" Sokka nursed his arm. "We're all thinking it. I just said it!" Hakoda glared at his son and motioned at Katara with his head. She looked at her brother stricken.

"He-he's been working to get this company off the ground for five years," she explained quietly. "He doesn't mean to cancel last minute, but he's been working on this for a long time."

"We understand, Kat," Hakoda said, hugging his daughter. "It was the same when I was trying to get the mechanic shop off the ground. Lot's of long nights and missed trips, but it got easier to balance work and life once we were off the ground." Sokka reached out and patted Katara's arm, looking like a chastened child.

"I was only messing with you," he said apologetically. "Honestly, Zuko seems like a great guy. I guess...I just want to know that he makes you a priority, too."

"He does," Katara insisted. "He's incredibly thoughtful. He came by my apartment last week to drop off my favorite coffee on his way to fly out for a business trip. He surprised me with a picnic dinner on the roof when we both had to work late. And not just to me that he's like that with. He works insane hours to keep the business running, but he makes sure that everyone else feels free to leave at five. The whole reason he's not here right now is because this cashflow issue is threatening this month's payroll, and he just wants to make sure everyone gets their money before the holidays.

"He does sound wonderful," Kanna said. "If you say he's worthy of you, then I will take your word. I can't wait to finally meet him in person."

The conversation drifted away from Zuko after a few more minutes to the possibility of getting together with Toph and Aang, then to Sesi's martial arts class (she insisted her aunt come see her practice). Soon the afternoon drew on, and Hakoda began to make preparations for dinner that evening, and Sokka and Katara started preparing to head for the school. Katara went up to her room to grab her purse and paused to check her messages. There was nothing from Zuko since he'd confirmed she'd made it to her father's house safely. She tried to ignore the sharp pinch of disappointment in her stomach as she sent a short message to him.

Miss you😢💖

-:-:-:-:-:- The dojo stoon on what Katara remembered being at different points in her childhood an arts and crafts shop, a music store, the headquarters of a short lived farming MLM, and an even shorter lived ballroom dancing studio. The Kyoshi School of Martial Arts had been open for a bit over two years, and the head instructor was an ex-military officer who's short stature belied her intimidating reputation. Katara could immediately tell her brother was smitten.

"Sifu Suki!" Sesi ran up to the instructor and nearly dragged to Katara. "This is my Auntie Tara! She's getting married!"

"Congratulations!" Suki said hiding a bewildered laugh. "It's so nice to finally meet the famous Katara. Your brother and niece have nothing but great things to say about you."

"You've made quite an impression on Sesi yourself," Katara said. "She couldn't wait to introduce us."

"I see!"

"I told Auntie that I wanted to be just like you and just like her," Sesi told Suki. "But she said that it's better to be just like me, even though it's okay to be..." Sesi scrunched her nose and tried to remember Katara's words. "...to be perspired by you." Suki had to hid another laugh as she patted Sesi's head.

"I think you mean inspired," she corrected Sesi. "And she's right. Being you is the absolute best thing you can grow up to be. Now, go get changed. We're starting warm ups soon." Suki spared one last smile for Sokka and Katara and went to prepare for class.

"She's cute," Katara said when Suki was far enough away. Sokka shot her an arch look.

"Should I warn Zuko he's got competition?"

"Oh, please," Katara scoffed. "Are you telling me you're not into her? You were doing that weird thing where you try not to stare but then end up staring super hard."

"Knock it off," Sokka shoved her lightly. "It's not like that. Sesi likes her, and she's been a great teacher. I...I respect her."

"Respectfully love her," Katara muttered. Sokka scowled at her, but there was no heat in it. His eyes drifted over to where Suki was passing out small wooden fans to her students, and his gaze softened. Katara nudged him and smiled knowingly.

"Seriously, I can't think about dating right now. I've got Sesi and the shop..." Sokka's voice trailed off as he tried to come up with more examples of his busyness.

"I'm not saying run off and marry her," Katara said. "You don't even have to tell Sesi that you're interested in her. I'm just saying, if you like her, see where it goes." Sokka grunted noncommittally and studiously kept his eyes away from Suki. Katara eyed her brother with concern. After a moment she poked him in the side.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked. Sokka turned to her in surprise.

"I'm fine," he said. "Why?"

"I don't just mean right now," Katara said. "I know you're still grieving Yue, and I know that grief doesn't have a timeline, but you know that she wouldn't want you to put your life on hold out of loyalty to her. You loved her well when she was with us. It's okay to move on now." A few emotions rippled across Sokka's face, as if he were deciding whether or not to be angry with Katara. Then he let out a long breath and seemed to deflate.

"It's not just about Yue," Sokka confessed. "I miss her terribly, and sometimes I get so angry because she doesn't get to be here for...this." Sokka gestured around the room, lingering on Sesi. "It's not fair that she doesn't get to remember her mother. I don't want her to have to live through a parade of would be mothers who just... leave."

"So do what Dad did," Katara said. "Only introduce Sesi once you're sure it's going to last."

"Right," Sokka let out a bitter laugh. "Remember how that turned out?" Katara shuddered. When she was a freshman in high school and Sokka was in his junior year, Hakoda introduced them to Malina, his girlfriend of nearly a year. Malina immediately tried to take over as their mother. She was oddly intense in her insistence of reorganizing how their home was run and trying to forcibly bond with Hakoda's kids, despite him assuring her he wasn't looking for a replacement mother for them. The final straw was when she replaced a family photo with Hakoda, Kya and the children with a picture she'd forced them to pose for on a trip to an amusement park Katara and Sokka were far too old for. Hakoda never told them what he said to Malina, but they never saw her or her photos again.

"That was one time!" Katara said.

"And Dad has never introduced us to any of the three women he's dated since." Sokka folded his arms and shook his head. The class had started. Suki was guiding the kids through their warm up exercises. Every so often, Sesi would look over to make sure her father and aunt were watching. Katara would wave and motion for her to pay attention.

"You can't let that one experience color how you feel about dating," Katara told Sokka. "I don't want to push you into anything. I just want to make sure you know, dating is allowed." Sokka shrugged and huffed, but Katara could see his gaze still lingering on the pretty martial arts instructor.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Auntie! Did you see when I knocked down the dummy?" Sesi danced excitedly, holding onto Katara's hands.

"I did!" Katara grinned at her niece. "You are getting really good!"

"You're exactly who I want on my side in a fight," Sokka said. "Go get changed. Grandad made your favorite for dinner." Sesi cheered and rushed off to the changing room. Suki walked over to Sokka and Katara.

"She really is improving fast," Suki told them. "I think she'll be ready to move up a level in a few months."

"She's going to be thrilled! And...and of course, she wouldn't be learning so quickly without having such a great teacher." Sokka's voice was just a bit too high, and his smile just a bit too wide. Katara had known her brother to be a massive flirt in his younger years, but it had been a long time since he'd asked Yue on their first date. It was clear he was out of practice. Katara smiled to herself.

"So, Suki, how long have you been in town?" she asked.

"Oh, about three years now," Suki told her. "I used to live in Kyoshi, but I was stationed not to far from here when I was in the military. I fell in love with the area, and when I got out of the service, I thought I'd try to settle here."

"Yeah, this place is really amazing," Katara agreed. "I loved growing up here. The community is really warm."

"Yeah," Suki shrugged reluctantly. "I mean, I have a great rapport with my clients, but I don't know...I feel like I haven't found my people yet." Katara clicked her tongue in sympathy.

"I know what you mean," she said. "I live in Ba Sing Se now, and it took me a while to find really close friends again. The first few years had some really lonely stretches."

"It's been really hard to feel like I've put down roots," Suki admitted. "I've been so busy with this place, that I just haven't had time. But I'd love to find people to just hang out with."

"Well, you're in luck!" Katara said. "Sokka and I are meeting up with some old friends in a few days. You should join us! Our friend owns a barcade in town, so if we ask nice, she might let us play on some of them for free." Suki's face lit up with excitement at the thought.

"The Badgermole?" she asked. "I've walked by that place so many times, and I always meant to stop in."

"Well, now you have a reason." Katara nudged Sokka forward. "I'm only in town for a few more days, but you should take Sokka's number. He can let you know all the details, and keep you looped in when other fun stuff is going on in town." A flush bloomed on Sokka's face across his nose and to his ears, but he managed a friendly smile as he put his number into Suki's phone. Suki was called away a moment later by an insistent mother who loudly demanded to know why her daughter wasn't getting Suki's undivided attention during the lesson.

"You are too meddlesome for your own good," Sokka said once she'd gone.

"What?" Katara shrugged. "Suki needs friends, and you're local!"

"I don't need you to hit on women for me." Sokka scowled down at his sister. "That was humiliating."

"Oh, please," Katara snorted. "She's coming to a casual hang out with your sister and high school friends. It's not like I asked her to marry you. And you gave her your number. Ball's in her court if she even wants to come out."

"Whatever," Sokka grumbled. Sesi emerged from the changing room and bounded across the room towards them. Sokka scooped her up and they headed for the door. Suki caught Sokka's eye and waved at him. Sokka grinned in spite of himself and waved back. Katara regarded her brother with a knowing gleam in her eyes, which Sokka did his best not to notice.

"I think the phrase you're looking for is thank you," she said out the side of her mouth.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

#atla #holiday feel goods #zutara #sukka #hallmarks of the season

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jemeryas · 4 months

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Jacquemus Makes a Comeback with "Les Sculptures"

Following the recent Jacquemus show “Le ChouChou” that was partly inspired by French nobility and partly Princess Diana, the latter could only be seen in a chunky necklace that is reminiscent to the one Diana would wear in her iconic 1994 “Revenge Dress,” I was left feeling a little hollow by the popular French designer. If you are going to honor a fashion icon like Princess Diana, I would much rather you commit to the bit than try and incorporate dead royalty that nobody particularly cared for; which I feel the need to add that the "let them eat cake" is historically inaccurate and one of the reasons why that show feels shallow. In comparison to Simon's previous shows such as “Le coupe de Soleil” that was set in a field of lilacs and featured a purple carpet for the models to walk down as well as Le Splash, which made me grow more in appreciation for Simon. I was let down tremendously from the Le ChouChou show and didn't know what to expect. However, the moment Marvin Gaye’s ‘Sexual Healing’ started up and I saw Gigi walk down in a creme trench coat baby I was hooked. I was confused as to what Simon knew about Marvin Gaye but that music knowledge worked in his favor and I can say that I was not disappointed.

Cohesive coloring. That’s what comes to mind as I get deeper into the show. One of my favorite things about Jacquemus is that he lets your burgundy’s stay with your burgundy’s and your blues with the blues. There is no real attempt in crossing or meshing colors that do not need to be meshed often done by other designers, in a horrendous, god-awful way that leaves you laughing to the point of tears, much like Naomi Campbell in the 2013 show, "The Face", if you will allow me to be funny. However, that is not the case here with Simon and his team of stylist, who due to their clear eye and God-given talents, can have a small array of colors come down the runway in a beautiful mirage of reds, cremes, beiges, grays, Blacks and whites. The pieces molded and shaped by the designer to resemble, in my interpretation of course, the sculptures that can come from clothes is both unique and charming. The models, exemplifying both traits, gives me everything that I need and more. The inclusion of the divine feminine and masculine in shows is something that I love to see and particularly with Simon, he is one of the very few designers who captures both essences. A masculine Asian model comes down gripping a shoulder bag styled with a white evening shirt and Black dress pants sends me into orbit with the amount of swag that he has,. The clothes not so much, but the model wears them in a smooth Argylle manner. The real show stopper however, comes in the form of a dark-skinned feminine model, covered by a white veil and dressed in a silk gown that flowed so beautifully around her. She exuded so much elegance and beauty while showing no face is just a level of couth that only Simon and his casters could have. The epitome of "No face, no case." The model and piece making such an impression with Simon that he probably felt no choice but to allow her to close the show. Solidifying and being the sole reason Jacquemus and his team to receive their tens from me and live to see another season. Mwah, no bars💋.

If I can give a note though, the title ‘Les Sculptures’ seems to be an ode to making art out of fashion, showcasing garments as sculptures. My thought is and will always be, like with many other designers and shows that attempt a similar feat, why do you not cast more full-sized models to be apart of these shows Simon? Pictured below is one model, but if tailoring on certain garments is suppose to emulate or accentuate the human frame, it would only make sense to have the inclusion of more full-sized models to help enhance that sculpturesque theme. Especially as popular as Jacquemus is among celebrity circles and mainstream media. Most notably be named dropped in Amine and Kaytranada's song “4eva” where Amine raps,

“I see you gettin' wetter through your Jacquemus jeans. My forevеr is forever, can't let nothin' comе between.”

I blushed too don't worry, but I don’t think all your high-profile clients are petite sized or like their women petite sized, so I believe that if you’re going to do a theme or nod to this then you should, again, commit to that bit.

Overall, after the horribly misunderstood show that was Le ChouChou; Simon you made up for it greatly with ‘Les Sculptures’. From the tailoring to the perfect flow of colors and models; I am telling you right now, that closing model is not real and definitely something to try and beat. Jacquemus, you may have just made the ultimate comeback in my eyes. I look forward to what you bring next.

#fashion tumblr #fashion #jacquemus #gigi hadid #runway #haute couture #black fashion

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alonetogether · 4 months

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sorry i can’t reblog that art bc i need to maintain an illusion of couth but your art is so fucking cute and i love how you draw patrick. also Tummy 💗u💗

i understand anon know im kissing your forehead for appreciating it from afar <333 muah, also thank youuu i love drawing patricks profile the most its so.... shaped, as is his beloved tummy i cant not draw him with tummy

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kookieswan · 2 years

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SweetBlood! Tae and JK 👀

So…💥 😭 🍩 🌙 🌋 🙊 🌏 💓❤️ I want to put more but…it’s already too much 🫠 enjoy

💥- What emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

I won’t say love because neither have them have been in love for a long time, if ever. As demons, certain emotions are muted and magnified for both of them. They’re very lust driven but have a hard time dealing with anger when it pops up, it tends to take over so they try to avoid it.

😭- What makes them cry?

“Nothing could make me cry. I’m a stone cold sex machine.”

“… What Jungkookie said except with more couth.”

(CoughMCgettinghurtCough)

🍩 - Favorite sweet treat?

MCs brownies. They’re both obsessed with them and will harass her to make more if the pan is empty lmao.

🌙 - What do they both wish for?

“I wish dove would just let me make her feel good already. I know she has zero experience, but…”

“We’d leave her a shaking mess, experience doesn’t matter. I’d let her sit on my face any day.”

(They’re whores.)

🌋 - How bad are their tempers?

Jungkook gets mad easier than Tae, although it takes a while for both. Tae is much slower to anger, but when it boils over he turns into a monster… Literally.

🙊 - What’s something they refuse to stay quiet about?

How badly they want to fuck around with MC lmao. No but seriously they talk about sex a lot. It’s a driving force for them. Tae had a think for historical art though, while Jungkook enjoys photography. Art nerds.

🌏 - Would either of them give up the world for someone they love? Would it be an easy decision?

……….. teehee.

💓 - What gets their hearts racing?

“Animalistic rough sex does the trick. That or a good horror movie. My little sweet blooded baby likes horror flicks. Hm..”

“I agree. Fighting with Jimin also makes my heart race, he’s sassy. It’s adorable.”

❤️ - Their love languages?

Jungkook likes words of affirmation. Tell him he’s doing good and he’ll melt lol, it’s cute. Taehyung likes acts of service, showing him that you’re listening make him happy.

#sweet blood jungkook #sweet blood taehyung #sweet blood #answers

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libidomechanica · 1 month

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“By sage, by new-built there, she is”

A sonnet sequence

At then The Sage. Class we finds you, so long praise saying? A bundle of melodiously was grow now my life. Two people who were stall too then, I trow, the cause from Greenwich hide already donne. Like chapters in the rites them to teach the winds of that day, althought increase are apt to burst upon this our play’d, which calls wealth, and beseech’d she’d heart like an imbecile, hewing on yesterday. Of pearls commingled breast. Then where the foe, who flatters: robert Burns: pass by long as thou hast said the virtue we come and self-defence, shall the dull a spur Hark! Why thighs? By sage, by new-built there, she is.

You art that to do not that down in its best know whether majesty, who can, the world in self-scorn to sit upon her throbbing blood of toises that which from thence common air. Not the main—why should breath; this long before to a boon thy beauties, and truly set. And glorious stutter tuning furrows in vain as for beautiful are thine. Sometimes risk the Tree! And she least ’s a single dragon? We’re all be its native state reveals, and his despair. When roasted crabs hiss in that white hairy Diadem which is strong necessity. Mine before less for teares to this rise, my lad.

And kissing, stay! By sage, but my Muse person, the turn’d rather side, and took its styled according to a camp: I know, then the self-scorn; but he had follow, the sign, but oh, thought like jewel from the shepeheards deuise she signal-elm, that dost give a guinea and wine ne’er some thy fresh and robbery, gentleman’s gentlemen, are no giraffes. That, rough-bearded for a fine foreign buffoon stood at the king wind, conceding friend would rush upon this year and round rang like this stations from Alicant, all bad profuse; but that tyran Honour doth you, that an echo of song; permit that day home.

Neck with all couth he turtle is however her eyelashes, to two men, and lick’d up a glass and the fruitful of Ida fell, and claim it was such ugliness, or its wall; all female fierce conceit her flush’d a sweet, tis a train going schooner, fill’d up his life? Force from a hyacinths. Of all trees nor ever them eternal love to the turn’d the sigh did bear love men and grumbling on the hinds of Engedi. Athwart the more alone. Well those nothing glanced one, and rode undecided them moue; if not less did flower. In me closed with children born every air seemed: I see the more?

Was bonie Jean. So nere, in that all here. Thy black which the lore and meats of being so call’d; The One distributaries! This is a nameless prince, but see the fairly fair; in crystal, and built and constella, Soueraigne of you the wanton will; bearing their own! One is cruelly to get that’s worth a gentle Night; for stand again, she’s my encountenance due concord of slave, no bad example spread aright, viziers nodding rise or silver: by commotion: you made the mounted that, after the Dorian poets say that the loved with Heaven’s song for long: and of dew: let him with me here.

And smell the named her face they can I sincere words: the breasts to drinking the fairest attack’d; and durst compassion from the deem’d, as he success is much thee described—what’s our life, yet some odes on the black, for some; all cars, though now in a cout friends in the white their foretold. He put in a sigh because a little for thought of both do stay on your in early woke sane, but by time to young Freedom to repeated, in me claim madly meeting, plunge for Corydon, hath looks o’er a waste, hast said he, why do you met him from her eyes were of Heaven. Leapt every peak thy toothpicks, bleach to make full she nurst, for her Sicilian field, though I’m sure it’s not for questions bear than when the beds of the waving but didn’t fix into that just stay; and a poet her, like vineyard unto memory is fulfil: just once crust of a change as cleft the phoenix’ breast was before I leaues doth lay.

There at her of arms spread. Praised her spirits. Above the attack: but visions were nothing drowns they staircase ending and find from the tyrannous, so that burns! A kind of styled accord before her loosely—like tears then she mighty men. I went one doubt, no doubt, yet something Was My Fault has been call, or amber, madam, if you were a slender strife, from hours, with the man was, alas why am I in the cock and chains were there. Till Nature’s racing. That words: think and how the stars, how the Dorian pipe, and porphyry, and serious native place advance; thou will be faintest through thy songs?

—Oh Darling, glance, chattering through wave flowers, like the elect; but violent reply. Red kelson past the daring man.—Well, and anguish mortality in propos. Which though your life. Yields. For a fine examples are Thames? To its tusk be unimpeded by your poor youth picking him a wall, and store, broods drove her had stung; where the staggering was, and the long-abandoned when then season of love. Of beauty from off her mind with the broken beam, the furrows know. For shame; and daring the long catechism of queans; and yet crowding like Ariadne’s tiar: her cheeks, shy to which I let drop.

But such frisk with his earth: their fury the judgment of a riot, he might employed no birds do come will not shut the moon wrapp’d like the air, and bird’s all these: Love and then tatters met to gain the midst others, if you to cast out. And now she’s ta’en their gods of laws; the upon the foe after the dishes of verdure never wild sad expected by this spirit of the way to cure your posts, my loue their grand much as any, no doubt, that which made thy mourning, near, but now draw in your Johnny to rent hue, and rubious-argent: of all things hardly her Ida, tremulously, so all here.

His pleasure subjected her arms, but few. Their eares diddly. But the fair slave to crave that’s whatever in this that early fruits. Those days, for the flow’d at its painted joy and mimic as they thus replied by spirits taught up, so pick it up, nor his Soul she felt herself hadst all I relations and round us evening’s a thrift in his banners. Abound; ascribes, as my own sweet Ida: palm to pass’d I blind, or their bosom like flower or hurling on the furse: mercy he had failed when turtles to Hoyle: their treble in your lives, in life’s variety, tapping swallows why nothing.

Must see, ride their own mirror, not betrayed him so giv’n to flush’d, nor often, in a cry; leapt a cry for mutual bliss assure his ease. And undrest that like Cassio, an arithmetician, ’ but an anguish drear, her mammie’s cot, and watch divine and I must all found one their guard blows to incense. How beautiful Pussy said not thing for Italy freedom’s sight was the mild canopy of English rhyme; yet, Thyrsis never rate in a wood—a wood of States, summon’d them back to the present?—A great good descence shall I dote the vineyards; let us see it like an Alpine steeple.

Were stronger than wine! Certain glistring, that just burst of weapons, ask’d more exactly into memory clings like an iron pole, hard and his eyes, and mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come and pleasant days she tast. High extremely few: I have thee forgot not much controlled, and above them in, with ass’s early birds within who faintly by played, no two men, which I leave my whole, as most true. Are like mine, no voice of the good mother who all thou oft is cruel as the keep thy doubts if an honest Allan! These bond, in columns too rare, too, O Thyrsis never wants, no Angel bring in Patty’s room.

Know, who for our mine annoyed I promised around the gift of swimming all the milky way of gold, he stars then? These little waves retire, then she spake, and nothing which the sedge is with feminine disguise, degeneral commended race. Beating first, where be foes. A religious, and gave the place of the arm’d rivers out Phoebus watchword restrain. Meads th’hill’s shadows, and honey to the philosopher.—Thy deeds. As anything from on his hapless stood the Town. Beauty, life, shall place unknown to a coast of farce! And their mermaid in days to do not mock me. Light ice I know alas!

Exactly where to her, and cloud the mount nearer being soul, his passionate on the sloped downwards with the wall like wilderness, but feared each day, all passages, will can body. She pass’d this long divine ASTREA’S praise, and some said she was from her lips being for girls, and most of a cloud drag inward path, to feel the want of death hath be rude Cumner cowslips in tune, by force—gold, his body borne before, have sucking height upon the sedge is wings—to Helene once belie—even within a cannot boast the long blood, so is my beloved their kettle-drums a new Thermopylae!

’ To your body: see it best in fame; in his hands. Works, made them vphold. And only can unloose, blowing, this parity was fullest power in Florian: with Loves delights of island ne’er saw. In thine to this lakes. Then a turncoat hast said, returned there; its slender grace the blood on its crown, slow tyrant’s wish me to ye, my though your idle words, being, asking a word of true a private, perchaunce, the last was no more subtle skin like a dismay’d, without that window flowered in feeling: for Italy he’d love that I never blisse, hath fashion’d or that one tires; thus while she grief.

The baying all crown; that never did her greensward grace, and with its paints auld Nature’s something indigence, sharpness of gold, which means had taught be, or growth and legitimate chance, it pierc’d my myrrh and Sea do know alas! So leave me still came. Of quince, the rocky brow, lintel, scarf, wind—shaking, the moon decks hersel very side, a low tones, My Empire of the flowery mead and disasters of the wailing: these are in what shame! A third: Our mist: curst be some odd ones with dead! Is come as short to the antipodes on his ear, the town’s all presaged goddess, sometimes sleeping, or fills!

Aye vow and pale blue evenings his woman’s styled according then, the rest! Shirt off, such made gloomed in finer clay, just twiddles in his wife nuptial knot, of Love. Is na’ she could have letters. Think in tolerant enchants, thought nowhere is no place. For female dream, the sway of thine eyes and her ail might bubbling in domestic doing—how soon exhaled, and thrown injury. And have what poor girls, black hue from reach; three your young, to pass for play’d, and sighed: a touch by their she-parades: her the mouth as mind! Pale, as I had, and most desired. And lonely grace the call, althought! And barbarous laws.

At the starts there, talking, find a bird, that fray; the lady’s slip at once, if one date; but when from the heart: as thy loof in my reason of those we combat with Haidee’s sake, and casts are born of the Past, but against thou maun be paid, protect of difference up, a second’s ordinary wife, let go! Somewhat say I have done, the Garden in threshold, his shirt be hidden rose, and rural grace, that an ear in think they proclaim: let thy lee-shores by the summergirl, the vile daily more fit; never came from a whiteness, memory being as your life, besotted to keep his Neck to you.

Extreme degrees, who this Catiline, when her kind. When then, who taught up, so place, and near more these are common places in nation, much obeyed him, yielded to rest, and lips apartment, which I originally am how should be much as we are. From ostentation now in a trice, and this speed i’ the surf bright me in Fate’s eternal love than powers, and they proceed alone at full stroke wide from a wood a card. Have you fairest flower, wherein moralists, like a ghosts of me, and Mars no dream thro’ his despatch in the woods made, maie, the new-mown. In their tomb the two hours. Of course.

Tender pledge vastly now with dead pictured eve smiles, and of two hours, shut from car to this, that of Loue inspired. And something in his blowing I could never not, as this being had, alas! Ave Maria! Kept up disclos’d a place, and thing good and shrilled them ran a sabre threw her how please of their name. But said, from you, childe is experience of pith, sixteenth, whene’er you prais’d, glory still an unusual commemorial wood, so large black through her beauty brigadiers; also they thing with this condition must want of prince, the first doth grow: now I have that makes all her fields!

Shoulder, give back to their tongue from the waves, with which thou steal me a bore: most wonder favorite pop song I probably left to his side by side; nor make their fury has take amiss, and silk inlaid; and women; there are mistaken place there he cannot well offended talks of slaughters. And nothing, for gates temperament, old woman’s shape would be found she told me claim receive the waves, with Decay, to dwell of chariots. But when throng, unmoor’d our eye. And good and no mighty title, gem, and startled little her alms from poets say things hard for thou hast pass like swine or to be one on and softest dream thro’ thee, let my breasts shall mov’d the juice of youth doth wears a good wine—a thing in the distant into themselves seated First open’d Eden’s fruit and friars the begins than what has wroth to love, for their lords the should scream’d, Dudu had not, where she did with all in a dusky doorway?

Perhaps millions, bastions, contributor of which is thy gain. You know you strife, the pomegranate way, so she melted down under other happy in between you would not their son. Light, and the sun went one compassioned water by Souvaroff. You will be true to incredulous. Rather cares. The seventeen, the stretch’d to spare; for ever. Victory is to their grandsire or legs I dreams should have yet many sense, but in them don’t get it. And has come to his monarch dies, who live not the slowly strike up and shape, and old, which light of that touch on your break on mountains murmuring lists of kings, impossible, all with tears before faire necessary, may I, poor Katinka, until all one sole leaguer, swarming God’s will be, yet never arose above contempt, but now that think? Our head is a tide in the bottom of yourself with their miscarriage rare. But now have none!

And fresh anchored in me not one colonnade. Their ways; t is the rough, extremely cottage-smell, and to under there are able to steal in dudgeon to my new-built and t’ other it a cluster of blossoms on that the star appears; it is my beauty would telling unseen, and sees the truth arrive ere she that never will love and from the shall flow, and all too long friends, and from all asunders, churning of Heaven’s important to all feeling, or shores by the grand-dames, look’dst the powers! And catch her have could not whatsoe’er he had done to surprised and a flatter what I’d lost.

But some distant in like their fruit unseen: and saffron; calamus and on her weight the vineyards; let to my neighbour’d to this little band of storms that. We wove our presents and a thousand chain so sentence such-wise beyond while with me often color of languor leapt ever tolerable to shift, joy reappear from the nightly terms accepted, and even good and all is set, my Katie,—canst not go, though a squall or ill, or that thee; but in blood too sore, and still she pine for our vines, in the sin, and of his desire; her song, with their trade is but the day, which got himself, who knew they did befall, good faith! But you willing in gold ways, not by thy summer long blood to becomes and wish they will. Paint at full leaves. So done, which rather my heat, my beauteous, she spouse, of which with such liars, and stretch his brow between their mistress! We will not, where nearer thou leave you are!

Of winter is here, at least: there’s nothing: some Cossacques, hovered in flickering vows in men’s lay my comrade’s Juanna’s immemorial eyes, and quick to you. And her Maker’s oaken spine athwart that girdled her cheek to west sea as mere cannot, she sparks, particulation kept for that like are tongue could like to obtained to the winter’s as ghosts I do but served that her grapes, in my disposed amidst thou loue, which to-come reels, as you like, my springs me low, a low tones, old nakedness done, their little boat, the phoenix’ breast,—and incense this the flock; the stood with good compare.

Be outdone, to be forests heap’d late on the mysteries, his first, happy in the elm-tree bright entice you may servile glutton, while Damon lay, with thee seen as I think that white arms of feature heaven for something but this Exchange; and was the same cause to pass’d I blinded Lycius! Our escape fortune ever could be if all short, this indulgence she added to abstract insinuation of nuts to raise less invisible, all my power to find where too clear himself in a poet, must make her light, metal was conster, yet loue he solitary pastimes seized the race.

As if her down—will last Caesarean forests … bring their strife; beware; for Sunday next she must see the wise men were but falsehood has a compass o’er Longman Anthology best torn place wanton will I come. Since that vast estate. And wisely choose an atmosphere, his not perfection at the who his table where is not a woman’s ingratitude, ’ and sacred hymns and rills do not reason’s rule all, we will’d, her air hasted thy Love and men with melancholy undefile their orders they for my loue denied not.—Are gazing up his more easy by thy love, his body rocking!

Creation’s saw, and the lattice-lights at more modesty declining eye, thoughts in age, ’ which never fails to bathes unseen, the sex of women bear, and frankincense the worst to be contrived to through whom a high like Jacob Behmen while many a bee. You years, and hide them out, nothing too as woman wed, and see, those treachers stand prove reluctant, as well prate; and purple orchard or a fine things set with love, how she camp rung with such truth, howe’er you birth to joy have found the midst his hour, you to every think if we’re made, for pity? And a fearful meditation: matron, while they?

And, and beautiful, O my beauteous maid, and belief. Up the youngling to behold, he had found me rules with oaths, fair possessed black which her bear a torn place, that their too much less to good, we should be cast an age o’ witchin love between, i’m rich, as aught to know, since in a folding on the grand destroys all passages, with a day when I seen to change mistress—I, although it’s like a nest from being not now; she lies nor even. While youth go use the lights compose, but the assault. The forth: there was a matter reason where his way: but her sex is free. But to tie, and from Astrea flyeth.

No nuptial room, but in a low soft the lions’ dens, the little fortune to the page; she was a strange, and rent, while night, to heap of what it is world’s made more attention— there! A drowning in strewn—so have been sat lord chiefest guarded for their first place, Being paid to the knight. And draw the genderson the mountains his speed-laden pedigree to-night, whereto the Pacha with blow, he drank six canto—and twenty cannot be under hand, as a touch near thy voice, invisibly female dress broods on his knees, tis so great his dead and visibly, she wonder what can either knees.

In keeping souls amaze; then will not help the tendence a queen and their sisterhood: for this man’s: they would charioteers caught for ever suddenly you and I must be, does yet unknown, by which I will scarce pluck the flowers also she is dearest Eye it isn’t live. Also arose above you canst a vacant minute find, when drugs were litigious, who, with order keeps, that thy natured, miserable, while Souvaroff, dances, of freedom to the Greek gazettes; but their silver more modern Amazon and others are paltry things right. Its ugliness wings of Greece was a boroughfare.

Then forest she knew ’twas I in the moss, when a’ our true and beds of nation, like love them twere pretty flow those poet her the virtual support an anguishing the Turkish title was amiss; they see? That you wish and porphyry, and hell, or woman was, beasts, tired of a cunning weeds and love, where the way to the proudly as evening: angry was obliged to the ministers met to gain held him freely cottage-smell, and pinion of a chastity. And again and qualified by Sallust in the day; if thou can quantify: each other self, to nuptial room, for life.

Translation thou, ’ said Lamia, here, perfum’d within thy part, with but women, are some say loud is not so unkind beats with a glutinous eye, thou hast decrease to glided for had found is our approbation, could trust I woke sane, but a little heavens they can be idle wrath! Nor jealousies, Woo’d and bowe your chest with boards of flowers and Desire shall I love their amiable deeps—of mine, is rare, and after the shy Thames. As mine, lass, twas Cupid’s commingled to rehearse, make theme of the very silence of my eyes to which its site a Greek to weepe. To see the tents.

By deeds he had pass’d, but he gave us, knew the gold, though link’d alike a keyhole and is set, my song is solidity where is no getting awkwardly over- warmth induced to vie with reason after all colour’d to sea in a knot. With sparkle, and roses, and swirled justly shining in anger seeme he died; for she saw him by the beasts, and bars, eclips’d her will their preparation the girl to vex, after the hulls of the field! Year upon this year and every vessel e’er was virgin of ice, thought, secure found, as she have been past him wrong; and kisse in sunny mead and briers!

He who builds up a song. The valley now grated Rome, and marble husbands are such was her daughter—but it didn’t wanton maids in men. For, lo, the king all created; till be true to the attend. Nothing, that you’d express explicitly our straws, Fill hit off my court. But didn’t tell there was wonder at his care that seem’d middling, he gave they thought answerless virgin of the present had led to adored. In all the nonce, and the fiends began an honest move. Her vengeance on the painting my daily care than once from hours in something, fooling the burning of birth which makes they grieve, mistakes.

Thou mayst with a husband, I trow, thou alone. In what can hold; on that no one drink upon, to attack’d the march most desire, till Nature of these our was busy, and let him her little couple to pay without a girl, her hands have letter yet still the sold his virtue we come to her brought; and smile … What are think to trusted, or call driven for Blanche had guest waiting my bones to burgeon out many, and with a peculiar smiles, and turtle on the coronals of her lips, and then they reaching, that climate and my ripe thou my ravisher too. The bride ten to sin. And over.

To dub the whole mother, love, and complaining eyes, the blinking the resource of purple orchard possession, which in all gold there: for his voices of unfamiliarly. When they have the flame, and aided crimson shone her so well, the fair and greater smarte, as Robie was it lies? Sweetly to their title spread within thy wynters good think o’er the break a sucking each beloved; but renew’d by adding his rise, in bristling by, one on that we do forgiven more the flood, to be effaced, it turning by the great wink of eternal Homer’s hospital; at fire sparks, partial.

A feelings which meaneth, Put a kind of stormed to another the firmament, and certain tis prais’d, by the spoil the game there this use we couldn’t even make a straws, asks first just to thee; fruits. Murder, ’ and how with a boy of shepherd’s hearts and degrees, what careful undresses, t was she leagued with banner of David build upon the time where my sigh’d, glory gaping one their immortal and fair or wise men, hail! Him from God: nor left to your own steps, a well- beloved by your knife. And, strange, that look like a roe or to see thy look as yet; two batteries erected, enterchant?

And the grave: the unbetrayed so happy lot. While with the ragged woods in vain. I see themselves away. The Russ retreat into wail such a falling in their sustenance needed notice of thy dazling link of mercy, think only three hundred brick or but come with his done; and, lass, in fact the cape’s wet stone, but she cried—La bell. I break thy tears before my heart even could draw the heather may seek him stumbling, and wave,—hasten, white, cold, dull a sweet and gentleman, and lick’d up a song of Samian wine: the studding or a sail towards will make the winters, risen again sighing cold.

His body have them? For at mars through. And the proffer turned; shut up in a wild clocker, monstrain but a gift to some odes I made him in the emblems of my life bloudy rack on his Catiline, where, upon the moon is no more, or three lone was to sings there is thy lustfull leave to Love’s first sign is in their fury the hairy Diadem which cost, all bad profusion: by axe and Milton thrives: save we to be light slept in true nobility o’er the wood, fair, I lo’e thee sweet Circassians now were God Bacchant in that she sun after the artificer, the Isle, which man of mourned.

A year were crying she divide: she passion never dwell apart from all the same floors were imbecile she was, alas! Or proudest kerchief music, answer than true reason after Star, arose about disguise, I would be foremost on your tears and soft across a ditty sad children, round a hill be true the nuptial counsel may cover, dry where thing, by Saul Bellow the source for my faults, toot! See, at least food frankincense rarely were comfort me with ease her asleep, and deare, too, bleeding, this raptures; as liberated to the matron’s prefers her face. Ave Maria!

That or the armies gatherine’s tiar: her children too; for its true consanguinity it bear to wander’d hand, soon espy without you—so many women in safely might blush’d with, recall, one on the earth’s poem obeying its red light he had been a private gate of feelings. So nere, if, listened aside by the Danube could not go, thoughts like a ring to Corinth from the first create, created life didn’t tell each me reduces that Loves delighter heart’s purest blood, so as the married and they found he might parson, posterity fame you. Glory; and place of ages; to where Philome though from the bells is my love and floor, you nothing their eyes’ dark veins to my stood with angels’ lays; the woman-kind was so great delights are no giraffes. Just a columns too much a race, Her tress-lifting from their sustenance is rough the common in water-smoke, perfumes comely.

If she had fountains, skipping the Sensual Abyss, under his ears of straw to sum up their summer prone to answer in thy loving your tears: all over things. Which lay night, the nether the world; approach and a bonie black into masculine among his resurrection. But you. To be trust be: I see that was not humble husbands’ absent—minded; if not there was a mantle, so ruefully? Mortals even look at our flag takes the wind—shaking their hero is compared fascines standeth behind, a transient view her head. But when virgin- white, green. Not Momus self denying.

Did those word might strifes, murmuring or unpleasing, lawful. Till adore; he gave the eye,—think one Shakspeare always keep his nonsense, and every lightning by, one of the feast you please both the sea. The Russians, which to make love unto stay on a shakes his own anxiety, his seen, show’d the mortals evening sad, or the even as thick folds there I couldst thine imaginary swooning weak, her neck is as our knife. To profit by thereof: now a ladders, even so well, then he make you would puzzled what I would you blind; nor apt to touch at warfare. Not even gracious sleights in joy.

From home into their wisdom, future dream and claim his knees both forget mine was in their images would melt over they call her bosoms with his chewed-off tail train; but he look’dst thou shalt see today as I must make them, and never lost thou feel it would hinder himself from its low, such the moon stopt shore and Mars no discover at a patriarch of you and calling Fantom of you with loud her pious, past his metaphor, I thus the month of the warm. And his Peter Bell’ can sneer at the cheeks, her lord she as once all who seem’d so soft Sybarite’s nest; all is for pity thee.

Her eyes by the high society. Smoking was, till her foot was it the masks do not; breathed signs. Her movies or slight complished her grape appear in its way home, he’s my works herself through, to find close to bid men in the best would the heart, the several English as she knew, but himself from them, who dying the Turkish trousers furl’d about a ring there black which hides to the first was the woman in her eyes I stood at? And staid, from our naked treacher, and put in goodness to weep through and betray’d him her trust to fancy frae her as he tributes to framed; heav’n is much good at a’?

Pale warriors, unless to swallow, and now take the knights, and by my garden, are as good-bye and therefore, if, listen! The odds and sung, it seem stranges, this line, yet she is toward through the helpless short of vapours dim and bucklers, and forbear in my boat passeth, saue that can we see in the world may still shortest letter lead inviolably blue latitude; that nothing aright, providence, with scarcely sayes, that lone, and dangled yet them at the swiftly filed, full of your smile, his image from the paragon of that you’d have a things are. Of any now the rested faithful servant forth.

But infant careful, tender joys that whose ever the streaming gaped with heard, shepherd pipe, too clear. He was any needle; his purse, ran many peopled here, by a spider it was Guido forgive the paines, that of dry land a single me no more and by Solomon and your down to a married men’s pleasures move: so fold thyself denying. That just cut down a rill— or rather comes the city, every vulgar paper—everlasting schwa schwa schwa schwa in all as truth has ever satisfi’d with Haidee and fragrant myth another than not bad, but it is a crater.

Against not be name a painting away: let’s curb, and so tangled breasts like dumb phones to and boundedness, leaning this long sermon heard yourselves were thing could not worth unexcised, and beseech’d she’d get over with all alacrity: thus addresses steal thou art fair; in gracious hour, to be rashly touch my mind were some say him not. Well, and survey the grass. Then, bestow, since or a broke her companions? But no one drink, loue is all thing wrong. To thy compelled hands in view her heart bled to skim the births of a vision but a cot and all her future. Is always keep, by then pleasure.

My beloved adventured to me. Engender these are, and Desire—the prosperous the cold, thou art fair as those which looked age is wither’d how cream but never die, and Lolah—thought much word to thee dear. Save the stars above her servants were happy threshold, that whisper’d with all cars, though he buildings on the Russ retreat, were no one knew weeping, or that was. Hero, buffoons, to give you by her knees on the devil if that everywhere her features native and far describes, as my breast; an old one of thy countenance fell to hear than true as any thine eyes, you agen.

The night’st forgive, that’s fall she prayers, and his verse astonished. Her mither her eyelids. One on for think of this great scream’d a dreams and tinctual Light for gates are not dead and calm: then night and a fifth applause, save wed a year, I hate recruits of other at that her beauty veil’d each bursts into that this tears of—but Chronology of Pope and held together sweet and silent, she rose up, and and come as Roman scowls, and place—stumbling, glances with show, the mob of women who then yield up his heavenly joys, that seventh time prefixed to wandering; hero, buffoon stoop and haste, I neither through to die tonight. And of both commission, if people have heart less branches green, above, varied ear! Which hesitation pursue, or, which your idle wrath hath brought far as in our model of this particular song, with a heart unclosed is mine. Unless I hope to sing.

Between love no time may both crown’d: ‘Why so? In signal-tree crowds, cuckoo-like, token of vapours dim waters play save you never again whether thrilled word of truths at charms from Time’s beams, and learned to alight? She the carts make good to give a sentimental pangs of Good, of Joy and briers! Such music, and as there is my love of my beloved by thee. Vain! That was so great night, a tastes the just like true hypocrites, admit. Of one goes unlawful, and fair sun, but not covering to behold; with tears, innumerable bees. About it hung rather with my night, you shuffle among.

And by a dearer that turned away,&blasted, art made for love or four poor solitude return’d his misspelled, on her milder- mooned brow’s blue and yet agree at they came out one dream he waggons! One must want on a shawl of beauties proud, shall still on a charm that girdle, like-wise put to the friend. Infinite immutability of blood and still she believe in great joy to Loue to Love’s stately o’er a waste, where: thou be’st born just to find whence she had better far off, such various sleights are a blank, or godly gear, hot, glaz’d, but deems himself degradation led days happy ground.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #148 texts #sonnet sequence

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