#good fucking lord how does one man exist looking like this without the world caving in on itself
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VERNON // fishbowl & sea.
#vernon#vernon gifs#chwe hansol#choi hansol#vernon chwe#svtgifs#seventeen gifs#*mine#my gif#if anyone was wondering how i'm doing after this?? you can stop wondering immediately the answer is that i'm going to die#the end of coming for me thick and fast and i have accepted my fate because#FUCKING. LOOK AT HIM.#this gorgeous bastard. beautiful asshole. ethereal fucking DICK#good fucking lord how does one man exist looking like this without the world caving in on itself#i'm in love with him i'm in love with him i'm in love with him#(lowkey feelin a bit proud of these) (that is all) (goodnight happy sunday<3)#innershadows
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hello everyone, I return with more angst, this time, Willex!
As The World Caves In
Words: 2,554
Summary: 90s Alive AU where Sunset Curve performed in the Orpheum and are now rising stars. Alex and Willie have met and began dating shortly after the show. Around a year of their relationship, Willie falls seriously ill, and Alex is there to support him.
Disclaimers:
The boys are all around 18, as this is set a year after the orpheum performance where they were all 17.
The boys did not die in this AU, merely just had a bad case of food poisoning.
As this is set in the 90s, Flynn, Julie, Nick and other characters do not exist.
This is based on the assumption that Willie was also alive and 17 in the 90s.
I do not own any of these characters, however both Willie and Alex's parents are my own interpretations.
Ao3 link:
@thedragonemperess
Alex looks at Willie's face, and smiles weakly. Willie looks...weaker, than usual, and was clearly trying to put on a brave face for his much loved boyfriend.
"How do you feel today?" Alex asks, gently.
"...Better, I think." Wille replies, sheepishly.
"Willie, you don't have to pretend you feel okay, you know that, right?" says Alex.
"...You're right...well then, my chest hurts when I breathe, and I feel constantly tired. The other day, Reggie brought me in food that his mom made specifically for me, and it looked great and it smelt divine, but I couldn’t muster the appetite to eat it. He just looked so...disappointed, Alex."
Alex sighed, and took Willie's hand.
"He understands though. It's...it's harder on you, and we both know Reggie would never hold it against you."
"I know just-" Willie begins coughing violently mid sentence, "...Sorry. But it's just, I hate feeling so...useless, y'know? I want to get out and function like a normal person, but even getting out of bed winds me for the next hour, never mind walking out of here."
Willie looks at Alex. His eyes are so...tired looking. Alex's heart breaks a little more at the sight. Willie's eyes, the eyes that were always so bright and full of life looked so dull now. His face which always bore a smile, so...gray looking, skinnier. Even his arms which Alex loved to be held in were weaker. And yet he was still the man Alex loved, and would continue to love.
"Willie...I...look, you just..." Alex stammers over his words.
"Hotdog. It's okay. I know you're worried, but really, I'll be okay. I'm doing better than I look, the doctors say so. And lord knows they're being paid enough to tell the truth."
Alex laughs weakly. Willie still has his sense of humour. That has to be good, right?
Right.
A nurse enters the room to inform Alex that visiting hours end soon. Alex nods, and says he'll be out in a bit.
"You have to go?" Willie says sadly.
"...Yeah. I do."
"...You'll be back tomorrow though, right?"
"Of course. Of course I will."
Alex kisses Willie gently on the forehead.
"Is that it?" Willie says, a smirk on his face.
"Oh- Uh-" Alex stammers as his face turns bright red.
"You don't have to, you know? I was teasing."
"No- I- I just wasn't expecting to hear it. But since you asked," Alex leans in, "sure, that's not all."
Alex kisses Willie passionately, moving one hand to Willie's shoulder, and the other running through his hair. Willie pulls Alex in closer in suit. The two break apart, both smiling wide.
"That certainly wasn't all then." Willie laughs.
"What a 'bye for now', huh?" Alex says, his face still red from his moment of bravery.
"For now," Willie says, pausing for a second "I love you, Alex." he adds.
Alex stares at him for a second, unsure of what he just heard.
"...I love you too, Willie."
A few months later, Alex is visiting Willie again. Willie is still hesitant to admit it, but with his recently shaved head and the numerous more machines beeping and such around his bed, it is clear to Alex that his condition is worsening.
"Stay still, will you? I don't want to nick you." Alex says as he slowly, carefully, shaves the recently appeared stubble on Willie's face.
Willie does not reply but does become more still, merely watching Alex as he shaves his face with such care.
"There. Feel better?" Alex asks as he prepares to shave Willie's head.
"...Yeah." Willie says, hoarsely.
"I'm gonna help you sit up now so I can get your head, okay?"
"Sure." Willie says. As Alex helps him sit up, he starts coughing again. When he moves his hand away from his mouth, there are a few drops of blood. He makes hesitant eye contact with Alex, who, aware that Willie doesn't want to be made a fuss over, merely cleans his hand and sighs softly.
As Alex lathers his head with shaving cream, Willie starts to cry softly. When he notices, Alex stops, cleans off his hands, and sits on the bed beside him.
"Willie...what's happened, dear?"
"They, uh...they told me the results of my scan yesterday. The lung cancer...it's progressed. It's spread to my kidneys now. Alex...they uh, they aren’t giving me long to live."
Alex's shoulders slump in defeat. All the fighting...all the effort and the pain. Willie even lost his hair trying to fight off cancer and...for nothing. Alex stands up, wordlessly, and begins to shave Willie's head.
"So, you're just...saying nothing?" Willie says, a tangible note of hurt in his voice.
Alex bites his lip to stifle a sob. He can't cry in front of Willie right now. Willie is the one who's allowed to cry right now. He keeps shaving.
"Alex. Please. Say something...anything."
Alex lets out a sob, and immediately he feels Willie tense up.
"Alex-" Willie starts as he tries to turn around.
"No, please. Just...just let me finish shaving, please." Alex says, his voice breaking slightly.
Willie turns around again, facing away from Alex, and lets him finish shaving his head.
When visiting hours end that evening, Alex hugs Willie as tight as he can without hurting, and pats Willie's back as he sobs and yells into Alex's shoulder. He says it'll be okay, he tries to comfort him, but they both know this can't possibly ever be okay.
Alex is in a mall with the other three boys. In front of them is a case of rings. A jeweller walks over to them.
"Ah, you're-"
"Sunset Curve! Tell your friends." cuts in Reggie. The boys laugh.
"...Yes. My daughter loves you, she's booked tickets to your next tour."
"Ah! A fan! Or...well, rather a parent of a fan." Says Luke, excitedly.
"Indeed. Well, how may I help you boys today?"
"Well, uh, we're looking for a ring." Alex says.
"I think, if you follow me this way, you'll find more what you're looking for? This is the...engagement ring section."
The boys look at her blankly.
"Oh. Well, someone's a lucky girl-"
"A lucky boy, actually." They correct her, all looking towards Alex, who currently looks rather sheepish. The jeweller makes an "oh" face.
"Well then, Mr. Mercer? I think this ring right here will be perfectly suited."
She points to a silver band.
"We do ring engraving too, if that's your thing."
Alex looks at the boys. They smile at him and nod, already knowing what he's thinking.
Willie and Alex's parents crowd into the small hospital room. All four of them look ecstatic, an odd sight for a room with a dying man in it. Outside, Luke, Reggie and Bobby are fighting to get a good look.
"Alex, love...what on earth are you doing?"
Alex laughs, his hands shaking behind his back. He looks to his parents, who nod, then Willie's, who smile at him. He gets down on one knee beside the hospital bed.
"Willie, I have loved you since the day I met you backstage at the orpheum. I have loved you since you looked after me during the aftermath of that nasty ass hotdog, and I have loved you since you stayed by me when I came out."
Willie looks at him, unsure of how to react to what he's hearing. Alex brings out the ring box from behind his back.
"I know that we can't legally get married. And I know that it will never feel properly real because of that. But Willie...if I could..." Alex trails off.
"...Go on." Willie says, quietly.
"Willie...I- Will you marry me?"
The energy from the couples' parents in the corner of the room is electric.
"Of course, Alex. Of course."
Alex breathes a sigh of relief and stands up to give Willie the ring. The boys cheer and whoop from outside the room, before being shushed, because people are dying here.
"Alex...did you- did you get a hotdog engraved on this?"
Alex smiles slightly.
"I love it. I fucking love it." Willie says, as he lets Alex slide the ring onto his finger.
"And look," Alex says, pulling out his own counterpart ring from his pocket "mines has a skateboard."
Willie laughs, the first genuine laugh he's had in a while, but then in a snap back to reality, begins coughing harshly, and both Alex and his parents rush to hold him, and wipe his face of the blood spatters.
The rest of visiting hours are spent sneaking the boys a toast of champagne - for they know Willie won't live to 21 - as well as sharing baby photos and many, many congratulations.
Days later, Willie signs a deed poll to change his surname to Mercer. Both Alex and Willie reason it's as close as they'll ever get to marriage.
A month later, the nights get colder faster now, and Alex notices it more than he ever has as he speeds to Willie's hospital at 11 at night. As his listed emergency contact, the hospital have contacted him as well as Willie's parents. Alex is trying desperately to calm his breathing to concentrate at the wheel before he causes an accident, to little aid, as his vision is blurred by tears anyway.
He doesn’t even lock his car doors as he bolts to Willie's room. He can hear multiple doctors in the room, all discussing what's and how's and when's. Alex begs them for information but as he's neither the patient, a (legal) spouse, or a next of kin, they can tell him nothing. When Willie's parents arrive shortly after, they are informed that Willie has went into kidney failure, and as his cancer has already metastasised, a transplant would only delay the inevitable, information they immediately relay to Alex. The doctors give Willie a few hours at most.
Alex cries quietly at Willie's bedside, holding his hand as he watches his chest rise and fall slowly. The doctors have put him on morphine, to make his passing easier, more comfortable on him. Willie's parents stand behind Alex, Willie's father placing his hand on Alex's shoulder as comfort.
"Son...do you want us to give you a minute?" Willie's father asks. Alex nods quietly.
When he hears the door click shut, Alex lifts his head to look at Willie.
"Willie..why'd it have to be you?" he says quietly, weakly as he cups Willie's face and his thumb strokes his cheek. This isn't how it should have been. They should have been able to grow up together, get old, maybe even someday, possibly, get married. They should have been able to hopefully adopt a few kids, to watch them grow up and become adults of their own. And yet here Alex sat, being robbed of his first, his only love.
Alex buries his head into Willie's hospital gown. He cries out when all he receives is the horrible, sterile smell rather than what he wanted, Willie's warm, wood-ish smell. He doesn't have Willie's hair to stroke, it was all shaved off when the chemo started making it fall out. He looks at Willie's face again. He looks so...fragile. Alex's heart is shattering and he doesn’t know if he'll ever put the pieces back together again.
Willie's parents enter the room again, hot drinks in hand, and Willie's equally distraught mother hand Alex a coffee with a weak smile. Alex sips it, and grimaces at the bitter, yet watery taste. Nonetheless he is thankful for the caffeine.
A few hours later, while Alex and Willie's parents are engaged in light conversation, Willie's heart monitor starts beeping loudly in an alarm. When the three of them look at the monitor, they can see that Willie is flatlining.
"No. No. No this can't- No!" Alex starts shouting. He grabs Willie by the shoulders and shakes him. "Come on Willie, please, no, not now, please-"
Doctors flood into the room, and Willie's father pulls Alex back out of their way. Alex struggles to get loose but eventually goes limp as he sinks to the floor to wail in grief. The doctors, unable to do anything due to Willie's D.N.R, stand to one side and turn off the alarm.
"Time of Death...1:32AM..." one of them says, flatly.
Days later, at Willie's funeral, Alex seems to have been cried out. Even as one of the pallbearers, Alex's face just remains blank, empty. He sits at the front, with Willie's family. He even comforts Willie's younger siblings with a hug as they cry. But Alex himself sheds not one tear. He just stares into the distance. He barely talks.
Willie's parents ask Alex to say a few words, and rather reluctantly, he agrees. As he walks up to the front of the small church in Willie's hometown, his hands start to shake and he feels a lump form in his throat.
He looks out at the crowd, herded into the very much packed church like sheep. He clears his throat.
"I...I have known- I knew, Willie, for around a year. I knew him before his diagnosis, when he could still do the things he loved," Alex's voice shakes, "like skateboarding...or helping people, helping me. Not many of you know this, but I loved Willie. I still do. His death doesn't feel real to me and I doubt it ever will. I will miss him dearly, as I'm sure you all will. Uh...thanks for listening."
Standing at Willie's grave site, it isn't raining. In fact, the sun is shining and the temperature is almost mild. Alex watches in silence as they lower his partner's body into the ground. As they begin to shovel dirt onto the coffin, Alex's facade that even he wasn't aware existed, begins to crumble, and he buries his head in his mother's shoulder and cries out, his tears soaking her nice black coat. He hears other people begin to sob, and had he felt up to it, he would have consoled them. But right at that moment, at that exact time, nothing mattered to him apart from the fact that his partner, the man he loved enough to want to marry, was dead, was gone forever and was never coming back.
Weeks later, Willie's parents ask Alex to come to Willie's grave with them. Alex, who had barely left his room since the funeral, reluctantly agrees, letting him pick him up in their minivan. They drive to the cemetery in silence, none of them have the words to talk with, until they're walking over to where Willie was buried.
"We know that we didn't ask you...but since it's his legal name, we had to use it for the headstone..." say Willie's parents.
Alex looks at them, unsure of what they mean. And then he sees the name on Willie's headstone. Willie Mercer. In some strange way, he never expected to see it anywhere so official, so permanent. He realises that Willie's parents are awaiting a reaction, but he blanks on what to do. The sadness of seeing his love's grave taints the small joy that is seeing his own surname on it.
"I- I- Thank you." He eventually stammers out, and Willie's parents pull him into a hug.
For the first time in a long time, Alex begins to feel that things might, eventually, be okay.
#julie and the phantoms#jatp#julie and the fat ones#julie and the himbos#netflixwewantjatp2#netflixwewantjatps2#willex#alex jatp#willie jatp#tw death#tw illness#tw swearing
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Because I Said So
by @baloobird for @searching4sanity716 I hope you like this!!! 💜💜💜
This is my submission to the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!!!
Ao3 Link (but it’s not revealed yet)
Words: 10.1k (hehe whoops)
Rating: Not Rated
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & May Parker, May Parker & Tony Stark
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker
**Slight Trigger Warning: mention of an eating disorder accusation but there’s no actual eating disorder. Attempted kidnapping while on patrol but it’s stopped before it goes anywhere**
Summary: He should be used to it by now, this almost constant state of hunger, and he knows he should say something to May.
But he can’t.
When his aunt found out about Spider-Man, she - understandably so - wanted to know any and all things about this double life: his powers, how they work, how they affect him, and the like.
So Peter told her everything…except for one small, teeny tiny detail.
That he now has a faster metabolism than everyone else.
-
Peter doesn't tell May that he has to eat more than the average person because he knows how tight money is for them. He knows his aunt can't afford it so why say anything? And besides, he's fine.
Honestly.
No way is this going to come back and bite him in ass…absolutely not.
Adding my taglist here but the fic will be under the cut. I hope you enjoy!!!
Taglist: @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @dexteritymisdirectionsuggestion @peuty @starkaroos2034 @marvel-us-world @podcastsandcoffee @bestofirondadfics @mmmmmmmmmchicken @riseuplikeglitterandgold @desirexwolf @theoceanphoenixhasrisen @ultravioletstark @just-the-daydreamer @my-leg-is-not-a-chew-toy @diminajackson @theofficialdeannawinchester @whatwasmyprevioususername @spidey-mood @autisticbabynurse @ironmanismydad @tinyandsteven @dreamingformuses @smokesteamair @intuitive-mathgeek @softrdj @legendarypenofeating @petermyspiderson @zselenophile @shymothstudios @and-so-my-adventures-begin @sarcasticmusic @fandomsofrandom @cluusheen @mjc-dream @emygirl @pxterbpxrker @pawprinterfanfic @innocent-until-proven-geeky @blackwatchandromeda @jaelyn-karrett @iron-damn @unnoted-invisible @pixeltrix-13 @anyonewantathroatsweet @m0ther-of-dragons @chaos-with-a-pen @spideynamu @bthtallmadge2 @verdonafrost @the-reverse-mermaid @icymapletree @kitkatwinchester @irondad-is-cannon-bitch @brushes-of-sage @ghostinthebau @canonismybitch @tmifangirl24 @loverofstuffsworld @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @i-write-disney-not-tragedies @drowned-in-books @peanutdoodles @hauntedbybleachella @aelinasardothien @tonystark-built-this-in-a-cave @tonystarkweneedyou @spideygirl2003 @7peternotparker7 @justme--emily @dongjiayun @dykeragee @jmercer1997 @swagfictionreadingnerd @dredfulhapiness @fallenstar07
Let me know if you wanna be tagged!!!
Peter has been staring at that damn clock for about thirty minutes now.
But only one minute has actually passed.
Why do the last ten minutes of class always feel like another fucking hour?
Despite time moving as slow as molasses, the teenager keeps staring at the clock, seeing his life tick away closer and closer to death.
Hey, it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than learning about the Industrial Revolution.
Whoever decided to make AP History the last class of the day deserves to be shot like Abraham Lincoln.
Ten more minutes until Mr. Stark. Ten more minutes until I can finally freaking eat.
As if reading his mind, the boy’s stomach releases yet another growl, so loud that a few of the surrounding students give him weird looks, making him flush in embarrassment.
The hero smiles sheepishly as he wraps his arms around his torso, hoping to suppress any more incoming rumbles.
God, he is so fucking hungry, as he has been for the last couple of hours.
He should be used to it by now, this almost constant state of hunger, and he knows he should say something to May.
But he can’t.
When his aunt found out about Spider-Man, she - understandably so - wanted to know any and all things about this double life: his powers, how they work, how they affect him, and the like.
So Peter told her everything…except for one small, teeny tiny detail.
That he now has a faster metabolism than everyone else. With the powers of his super strength, stickiness, and “spidey sense”, it’s no wonder he developed an increase in his appetite as well.
Of course he wants to tell May, he desperately wants to tell her to buy more food, to make enough dinner to feed four instead of two.
But he’d be an idiot not to notice how tight money is for them. Peter doesn’t miss the bills with the dreaded red stamp that states “past due”, or the student loan payments that she is at least a couple of months behind on.
“You, food, and shelter are always my first priorities, you know that,” May has said on more than a few occasions.
While yes, she always has enough for rent, food, and their phones, the kid would be lying if he said that their water and power have never been shut off. And he can’t count how many months they’ve had to go without wi-fi.
Thank God libraries exist or he’d never get any homework done.
So the teen does what he can to keep from going completely insane from lack of food consumption: since he’s a part of that free lunch program, he thankfully always has a lunch - even though it’s not enough to leave him satisfied - and Ned, the wonderful, amazing best friend that is Ned always packs an extra apple or another sandwich to give him so he won’t feel like he’s completely passing out by the time history class rolls around.
But even then he can hardly stand it.
Peter keeps his arms wrapped around him, watching the clock at the front of the classroom like a hawk.
Watching the last seven minutes tick by at the slowest possible speed.
The genius feels his head start to droop with fatigue and jerks it upright, keeping it from slamming completely onto his desk. He winces as he feels his stomach release another round of grumbling and squeezes it to keep it quiet, even though it won’t do him any good.
He ignores the more questioning looks from his peers but he doesn’t miss the sympathetic one his best friend is giving him from the next desk over.
Peter looks away almost immediately. He already feels embarrassed enough for his obnoxious stomach, he can’t stand someone looking as if he’s a charity case.
Which is exactly why he hasn’t told Tony about this either.
He jerks his head up yet again after feeling it droop for a second time and stares at the clock once more.
Five minutes, just five more minutes, Spider-Man.
The teenager misses his masked alter ego. He hasn’t been able to don the red and blue as much lately for a number of reasons such as homework and decathlon.
The most annoying one being that he can’t patrol but for so long without Karen taking notice of his decreasing glucose levels which she would then send to Tony and the last thing he wants is for his billionaire hero to find out about his money troubles.
Peter takes a deep breath, constantly reminding himself to keep his eyes open, damn it, he refuses to fall asleep four minutes before the last bell.
He’ll sleep after he eats all of his hero’s food.
Because when he stays with Tony, he pigs out, eating enough food to feed a “whole army” his mentor has jokingly said.
And since Peter is planning to stay the night, he relishes in going back home that Saturday with a more than satisfied stomach.
Well, for a few hours anyway, until he gets to what his current situation is now.
The boy looks back at the clock.
Two minutes left, hell fucking yes.
God, he needs carbs if he has any hope of staying awake on his way to the tower.
He just needs food in general.
Any food…allllll the food.
The bell rings at long last, leaving Peter wishing he could race out the doors but he’s too sluggish to exert that much energy. Again, he ignores his friend’s pitying looks as he gets his things before walking as fast as he can to his father figure’s car.
The second he gets in and gives his mentor a tired smile, the volcano that is his stomach erupts in yet another growl, announcing the hunger it so desperately craves.
Tony giggles as he makes his way to exit the parking lot, “Somebody’s hungry, huh?”
You have no idea.
His protege sheepishly giggles himself, wrapping his arms around his stomach once again, “Uh yeah, sorry.”
“Only you would say sorry about being hungry,” the mechanic says with a snort, “McDonald’s drive-thru sound good to you?”
“Please, I can taste the Big Mac already.”
“How many do you want?”
“Uh,” Peter holds back as slight anxiety sets in, “Two?”
As they stop at a red light, his mentor gives him a deadpan look, obviously not believing him, and repeats, “Pete, how many do you want?”
“Four?” Said kid answers in a questioning tone, covering himself in case Tony thinks the number is too high. He then adds on, “All with fries? Please?”
Tony smiles down at his kid, ruffling his hair while keeping one hand on the steering wheel, “How many times have I told you that you don’t need to be shy around me when it comes to eating?”
“I know,” his interns says, slumping his shoulders but taking full advantage of this “curls massage” to keep his mind off his hunger, “I just feel bad -”
“Don’t,” the older man says, firm but keeping a gentle undertone, “If you’re hungry, you’re getting food, that’s the rule when you’re around me. It doesn’t matter if you want to eat the entire damn cow, you’re getting it.”
Peter feels a warmth filter through him at that, leaning closer to his father figure and smiling serenely at the hair ruffling, squeezing his stomach as it continues to gurgle periodically.
Tony lets go when the light turns green, his attention back on the road, “Didya even eat today, good Lord, kid.”
Barely.
“Yes,” the tyke responds, drawing out the syllable, “If I didn’t, you’d have to carry me to the tower.”
“That’s a terrifying image.”
“Relax, Mr. Stark, I’m more careful than that,” Peter responds with a cheeky smile.
It’s true, he thinks. Despite the constant hunger, he’s always been careful, never letting it get to the point of him not functioning as a human being should.
Yes, he’s hungry all the time, but not that hungry.
It’s fine.
It’s fiiiiiiine.
“You lost me at ‘careful’, does the word ‘Vulture’ mean anything to you?”
“Hey, I stopped him, didn’t I?”
Tony rolls his eyes with a defeated sigh, “Yeah, touché.”
Peter snickers in brief victory as they pull up to the drive-thru ordering station, “Hey, I may be clumsy but I’m still careful.”
“Jury’s still out on that one,” his mentor responds with his own snicker before lowering his window, turning towards the microphone. After the usual polite greetings, he says his order, making sure to order for himself as well, “Five Big Macs, five large fries, a Diet Coke, Dr. Pepper, and a side salad.”
“Ranch dressing okay?” The fast-food employee asks as Peter gives his father figure a look of pure confusion.
“Yeah, sure.”
“We’ll have your total for you at the first window.”
“Thanks,” Tony says, driving around the curve to the upcoming window.
Peter asks, “You got a salad? At McDonald’s?”
“No, I got it for you, you really think I’m gonna let you eat four Big Macs and no greens?”
“There’s lettuce on the burgers -”
“Nice try.”
“Jeez, ‘Helicopter Mom’, much?”
“You’ll thank me later when your stomach doesn’t hate you.”
For once.
Peter rolls his eyes as his stomach continues acting like a bear, looking on as his hero gives the cashier his credit card.
Eh, it’s more food, I’ll take it.
The second the boy takes his first bite of that heavenly, artery-filling burger, it takes all of his strength not to guzzle it down in five bites or less. He’s unfortunately learned from experience that not eating much for a week and then consuming enough food in one sitting to feed his entire apartment building equates to seeing all of that food again in a not so appetizing manner.
So by the time they get to the tower, only one burger is consumed and about half of an order of fries, yet the spiderling’s stomach is still growling. They settle in at the kitchen counter, with Tony digging into his own burger and fries, making light chatter with Peter unashamedly talking with his mouth full.
That Friday night and Saturday morning are spent in bliss, in more ways than one. The two heroes did their usual thing in the lab, Tony helped his kid with some of his homework, kicked back on the couch, and the tyke’s stomach was never not satisfied.
If only he could feel this way all the time.
The older man actually made dinner that night and told Peter he can take home the leftovers for him and May.
The teen’s heart did what felt like an actual backflip. He gratefully accepted the leftovers with absolute no intentions on sharing it with his aunt, instead his mind going into “math-mode” on how he can ration this throughout the week.
And when Happy drops him off that Saturday afternoon, he’s filled with the most energy he’s had since the previous time with his mentor, damn near skipping to his room in excitement to put on his suit and soar through the skies.
Until he sees May in the kitchen sporting a look of grim disappointment, and his whole demeanor falls immediately.
What happened? I haven’t done anything lately…at least I don’t think I have.
Hold up, did somebody die?
“Um,” Peter starts, gripping the straps on his backpack and praying his aunt can’t smell the leftover pot roast, “May, is everything okay?”
The nurse sighs despairingly, doing nothing to help her nephew’s case, “No,” she taps the barstool next to her, swinging it out, “We need to talk.”
The teenager’s anxiety spikes instantly.
Must she say the most horrible phrase in the English language?
Peter carefully sets his backpack on the couch before walking over and sitting on the designated stool, “Uh…what is it?”
“This,” his aunt slides a piece of paper over to him, “Progress reports were released yesterday and I didn’t check the portal until this morning. Explain this to me.”
Wait, progress reports? School isn’t even an issue, what the hell?
He looks down at the report and studies his grades, most of which are “A’s”, other than a “B-plus” that ruins the streak.
Fuck English and those fucking essays.
And there, at the bottom of the report, is his grade in AP History.
A “D.”
A big, fat, ugly “D.”
“What the hell?” Peter whispers in shock. This isn’t possible, he thinks, he’s never gotten anything below a “B” in, well, anything. School has always been his strong suit.
While yes, there were a couple of history quizzes he did less than stellar on, but shit happens, it certainly wouldn’t cause his grade to jump to a fucking “D.”
“There has to be a mistake,” he exclaims, still staring at the report with wide eyes, “There’s no way -”
“Really? No way?” May counters, voice a mixture of both anger and disappointment.
Making Peter want to crawl under a rock and die.
His aunt goes on, “Read the teacher’s comment.”
I don’t wanna.
The boy swallows a lump in his throat, reluctantly flipping over the page. He skims down until he sees the one for history and reads the comment.
Mr. Parker is no doubt a gifted student but he has difficulty with paying attention in class. While he does well on the homework, he lacks applying what he’s learned towards the tests and quizzes, both of which carry heavier percentages than the homework itself. I suggest taking more time to study, pay more attention in class, and, if possible, seek a tutor.
Peter scans over that comment who knows how many times.
Okay…maybe he’s done less than stellar on more than just a couple of quizzes.
How did he not see this, how in the fuck did he not know how bad his grade dropped?
The boy feels his stomach gurgle as it digests the last of his lunch that he had before he left to come back home.
Then it clicks.
Shit.
By the last class of the day, the food he’d eat at lunch has long since digested and his body is already begging for more.
So much so that he loses focus on the class and instead does what he can to keep himself sane until he can eat more food.
And the only reason why he’s able to do well on the homework is exactly that, he does it at home, where he’s hungry, but it’s bearable enough to where he can still concentrate.
At school, where he feels like his stomach might actually fall out of his body, leaves little room for concentration.
Peter looks back at his guardian with wide eyes, “I can explain.”
“Really? ‘Cuz I’m dying to hear it.” May lets out a light, humorless laugh, “I just, I just can’t believe we’re having a conversation about this. School was something I never had to worry about with you, what gives? Are you and Ned passing notes? Is there a girl you like that’s distracting you -”
“May, oh my God, I’m not ten,” her nephew says, annoyance in his tone, “And there’s no girl, for the record.”
“Then what is it, Peter?” May counters, getting annoyed herself, “Do you not understand the material, do you need a tutor -”
“No, no I don’t need a tutor. Look, I’m sorry, I’ll bring it up by the time report cards come -”
“You really think it’s that much of an easy fix?”
“Yes, look, May, it’s just a progress report, it doesn’t mean anything -”
“Oh, really now?” She asks, raising her voice slightly, “If they don’t mean anything, then why do they exist, huh? How would you feel if this was your report card? You’d lose your scholarship, Peter.”
Fuck, the fucking scholarship.
The teenager puts his head in his hands, his heart feeling heavy at the thought of being forced to leave Midtown, “Pretty shitty, yeah. May, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it got this bad, I promise I’ll bring it up. There’s a test next week, I’ll make sure to study for it.”
“Oh, you certainly will, no question, because until I see this ‘D’ disappear,” May hesitates before she says, “No more Spider-Man.”
“No!” The fifteen-year-old exclaims, head snapping right to his guardian, “May, please, please don’t take Spider-Man away from me. He’s what keeps me sane, c’mon, please.”
“He’s why your grade dropped, isn’t it?” The nurse asks, her only redeeming factor is that she doesn’t seem to like punishing him any more than he does, “That’s it, you’re too excited to be Spider-Man that you can’t concentrate on the class -”
“No, that’s not it! -”
“Then what is? Peter, help me understand ‘cuz I don’t know what the hell this is.”
The words are on the tip of his tongue.
I don’t get enough to eat.
He could say it, right here right now, he could say it. He would get to eat, and he could still be Spider-Man.
But May would feel awful.
And he can’t stand to see her more upset than she already is.
“You’re right,” Peter forces out, mentally kicking himself, “Yeah, it’s Spider-Man,” he concludes brokenly.
“That settles it then,” May confirms, voice small and filled with remorse, “No Spider-Man until you get your report card. And in three weeks, if I see anything less than a ‘C-plus’, it’s gonna be a long while before you see that suit again, you understand?”
As much as he doesn’t want to, the boy slowly nods his head, “This is so not fair -”
“It’s not up for discussion. Dinner’ll be in a few hours,” his guardian says, getting out of her chair to start chopping vegetables.
Peter quickly gets out of his own chair and gets his things before dragging himself to his room, the last thing he wants to do is look at his aunt let alone talk to her.
He gets to his room and slams the door, dropping his things and plopping onto his bed face down. He smushes his face on his pillow and screams into it as loud as he can without alerting May before slumping in defeat.
Words can’t express how mad he is at his guardian but it’s nowhere near how mad the kid is at himself.
How stupid was he? How did he not notice how bad he’s doing in the class? How could he have let it get this far?
And now there’s no more Spider-Man to at least soften the blow.
As much as he knows he needs to study, he doesn’t, he’d rather just lay in his bed and wallow in self-pity for the next week or so.
That’s just what he does until May calls out that dinner is ready. Peter wants to rebel by skipping dinner but realistically, he’d pass out if he doesn’t eat, and he wants to save those leftovers for as long as he can.
Dinner is the epitome of awkward.
Not much small talk is made as the kid eats his food as fast as humanly possible, afterward spending the rest of the night drowning out his thoughts through YouTube videos before succumbing himself to torture and digging out his history book.
No way is he letting the late 1800’s ruin his double life and his future.
-
The following week, he gets to work.
Unfortunately, his teacher doesn’t offer extra credit but he did say that if Peter continues doing well on the homework, studies hard for the upcoming quizzes and test, along with the paper due at the end of the month, the teen could have the potential to bring his grade up to a “B-minus”, maybe even a “B” if he aces them.
As long as his report card is above a “C-plus”, he doesn’t give a shit what it is.
The hero decides not to eat the extra food Ned gives him right at lunch and instead scarfs it down right before history. It doesn’t fill him up by any means but his stomach won’t sound like a thunderstorm either. Then when he gets home, he eats some of Tony’s leftovers, leaving his hunger manageable enough to make it to dinner.
It works for that week, to the teen’s pleasant surprise. Who knew that eating can make a person more focused and actually pay attention?
With this new routine, not only does the boy continue doing well on the homework but he damn near aces both of his next quizzes with a “B-plus” and “A-minus” respectively. The higher his grades get, the more confident he feels, he can almost taste the sweet freedom of swinging through the air and becoming one with the wonders of Queens.
Hell yes, Peter thinks, he’ll be back to donning the red and blue in no time.
-
However, that second week proves to be tougher than the first.
For one, Peter finished the leftovers; he didn’t want to, but he knew the food would eventually go bad if he kept it for much longer so he bit the bullet. Pair that with his dinner that night, it made him the most satisfied he'd felt since that waiter at the Thai restaurant gave May an extra plate of food for free.
God, why can’t that happen again?
He sticks to the same routine at school but when he gets home, he limits himself to a small snack to keep him satisfied until dinner.
But that has yet to work.
The teenager is having a hard time concentrating on his homework. The calculus that he normally breezes through is taking him twice as long to complete, same with physics, and he’s forced to put off history until after dinner, where his stomach doesn’t feel like it’s falling out and giving him enough energy to finish it with a passing grade.
Which is where Peter is finding himself now the night before that dreaded history test.
He huffs in frustration as he stares down at his dense brick of a history textbook, words blurring together as he reads over the same page for the fourth fucking time - and maybe the information might actually stay in his brain for once - and starving despite fixing himself a sandwich earlier.
Maybe his dinner should’ve had more sustenance than that but what the hell, he doesn’t know how to cook and May’s going to be at work until like midnight, he had to fix something.
Even though it’s only eight o’clock, the kid’s eyes are drooping with fatigue, resisting the urge to fall asleep on his book and thus making his chance of passing his test get slimmer and slimmer.
That lousy sandwich didn’t do shit.
Peter lightly slaps his cheek to wake himself up and he continues reading through that same page…again.
Why can’t I learn history dates as good as math formulas, this shit’s exhausting.
He studies as much as he can, going from the textbook to his chicken-scratch notes and now graded past homework and quizzes. Yet the more he tries to memorize political figures, the more he focuses on the food that’s in each and every one of the kitchen cabinets.
As if reading his mind once again, his stomach gurgles with hunger.
Okay, I think I saw another apple in the fridge. I mean, it can’t hurt.
Oh my God, and there’s a bag of chips we haven’t opened yet, maybe May won’t notice if I eat a few…or the whole fucking bag.
Maybe she’ll forget she bought them, no harm, no foul.
The hero’s mouth starts salivating at that. He can’t keep torturing himself like this, he has to get something to eat. Just as he’s about to do so, he hears a scream from outside his window.
“No!”
Peter’s head jerks to the window behind him, eyebrows narrowing in curiosity.
He’s normally pretty good at tuning out the murmurs that flood the mean streets of Queens…but that sounded close.
Too close.
Like right-outside-his-apartment-building close.
His worry grows when he hears another scream that sounds like it’s coming from the same person.
“Let go of me!”
Not just a person.
A kid.
Peter is out of his chair in less than a second. He opens his window and peeks out from the corner so he can’t be seen. After a few seconds of searching, his eyes land on a scuffle across the street between a middle-aged man with a black hoodie covered face and a little boy who can’t be older than eight or ten years old.
“You’re not my dad!” The boy cries, trying to get out of the man’s grasp.
“Shit,” Peter whispers, “Shit, shit, shit.”
The physiological need now forgotten, the hero races to his closet while he’s hurriedly taking off his clothes, putting on his suit in record time, and keeping a close ear on the scary situation at hand.
Okay, save the kid, come back, save the kid, come back…
He knows he’s breaking his aunt’s trust - which is saying something considering he kept this identity from her for almost a year - but he can’t just sit here and study shit that’s already happened while a child is being kidnapped.
The boy hears the usual greetings from Karen after putting on the mask, looking out the window once more before sneaking out of it, climbing the last few stories so he can scope the situation from the rooftop. He hears the little boy yell out again, “Let go of me!” but the kidnapper keeps dragging him along, mumbling some shit that Peter doesn’t find relevant to comprehend.
The teen swings to the next building, following the kidnapper and the poor little kid. He tells his AI, “Karen, activate web grenades.”
“Web grenades activated,” she responds, her usual robotic manner sounding out of place given the circumstances.
The spiderling swings to a building ahead of the criminal and waits patiently from the rooftop, web shooter aimed at the guy.
Keep walking, keep walking…aaaaand YEET.
He presses the button and a whole net of web fluid goes flying, trapping the kidnapper and hitting him against the wall of a closed bank. Unfortunately, the kid’s left hand got caught up in it and stuck around the web as well.
And he starts wailing.
Peter webs his way over in seconds, ignoring any bullshit the criminal is shouting, and lands in front of the boy.
He starts speaking words of reassurances, keeping his voice as soft and non-threatening as possible, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, I gotcha, you’re okay.” The teen whispers to his AI, “Karen, call the police.”
“Already in pursuit, Peter.”
“Thanks.” Peter uses his super strength to tear the boy’s hand free, applying a small amount of web fluid to keep the net intact. He kneels in front of the kid and asks, keeping his voice light, “Hey, I’m Spider-Man. Are you okay, did he hurt you?”
The boy sniffles, wiping away a few tears with his sleeve. He holds out his left hand as he says shakily, “Just m-my-my, my hand…he was, he was holding it too tight.”
The teenager sighs in relief, thanking God that nothing worse happened. He ignores his stomach’s occasional growls as he asks, “I’m sorry he hurt your hand, buddy. Do you know where your parents are?”
The boy hastily shakes his head, eyes widening in fear, “My-My mom, we were walking and-and there were all these people and, and I-I let go of Mommy’s hand but I didn’t mean to!” His panic increases the more he talks, “Someone, someone uh, someone bumped into me, it was an accident -”
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s not your fault, these things happen sometimes. So you got separated from your mom and that’s how you got lost?”
The little boy nods his head, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes, “And, and then, and then he,” he points to his attempted kidnapper, “Grabbed my hand and wanted to take me away.”
“He’s lying,” the offender says from the other side of the web net. Without even looking at the guy, Peter shoots a web at his face, successfully shutting him up.
The hero hears sirens in the distance and smiles from behind the mask, “The police are coming soon and they’re gonna help you find your mom, okay? Can you tell me your name?”
“J-Josh.”
“Well, Josh,” the teen holds out his fist as a police car turns the corner, “It was very nice to meet you.”
“Thanks, Spider-Man,” Josh smiles as he gives his hero a soft fist bump, biting his lip as he asks, “Can you stay until I find my mom?”
Another stomach growl escapes the spiderling but again, he pushes it down, “Of course, buddy.”
Law enforcement finally arrives and a female officer approaches the boy, taking his hand as the young genius stands up. His anxiety starts to rise as he starts to feel unexpectedly dizzy and he’s forced to put a hand on the wall to steady him.
Karen says into his ear, “Glucose levels decreasing rapidly, I suggest you seek appropriate nutrition or I can contact Mr. Stark -”
“No,” Peter commands, “Look, I’ll eat something after we find his mom, okay, just don’t tell Mr. Stark -”
“Are you talking to yourself?” Josh asks, turning around to look at the hero in confusion.
“Uh, just, um,” the other boy stutters, spinning around and again, having to use the wall to steady him, “Uh, Bluetooth.”
The little kid raises an eyebrow but simply shrugs and continues walking away, still holding the officer’s hand.
Peter uses his super strength to free the criminal and his mouth only for the guy to be arrested by two other officers. As they’re walking to a second police cruiser, the kid finds himself having to take short breaths and are his eyes deceiving him or is everything going suddenly blurry?
I thought my powers fixed my eyesight.
Karen again whispers in her owner’s ear, “Glucose levels are drastically low. Willing to contact Mr. Stark -”
“Please, Karen, no,” the spider-boy sharply whispers back, “I literally live here, I’ll eat something when I get back.”
“My concern isn’t when you’ll eat, but for if you can make it back at all. I have no choice -”
“Yes you do, don’t call him.”
Peter walks over to Josh, seeing his kidnapper being handcuffed and put in a car from the corner of his eye, albeit a blurry one, and says, “How you doing, little buddy?”
“Great! They found my mom, she called the police after I got lost and they’re bringing her here.”
Thank fuck.
“That’s great,” the hero says with as much energy as he can pull together, “I have to go now so you be safe, okay?”
“I’m never letting go of Mommy’s hand ever again.”
God, they’re so innocent.
“That’s good, good lesson,” Peter takes a couple more deep breaths as he stands up, ignoring the lightheadedness swirling in his brain, and with a friendly, “Have a good night”, he swings as fast as he can to his apartment.
Food, food, food, food, food…
The teenager sluggishly climbs back through his window and takes off his mask, swaying on his feet as his fingers start to shake. He starts to head over to the kitchen but grips onto the ladder of his bunk bed to let his vision catch up to him.
But then he looks at his bed.
His wonderful, heavenly, comfortable bed.
God, he’s so tired.
No, I gotta eat something.
However, he inches closer and closer to his bed, his world literally swirling around him in such a way that he’s amazed he can still stand up.
Maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt.
He’ll just eat something when he wakes up.
No harm, no foul.
Peter then gets into position and starts to belly flop onto his bed.
I’ll just take a nap riiiiiiiight here -
He is out cold before his head even hits the pillow.
-
“Boss, Mr. Parker is in distress.”
Tony’s head snaps up from the TV, gaze going to the ceiling, “What happened? He’s not supposed to be Spider-Manning.”
“Sending Karen’s information to your phone now.”
The man’s phone vibrates on the end table barely a second later. He hurriedly grabs it, reading what’s on the screen.
“Peter Parker’s glucose levels are devastatingly low. His vitals indicate that he is suffering from malnutrition and needs to seek medical attention immediately -”
“FRIDAY, call a suit,” Tony exclaims as he’s getting off of the couch, waiting to hear the rest while on his way to his kid.
“Yes, boss.”
“Kid, what the fuck are you doing?” Tony mumbles as he’s racing to the lab. In no time but it feels like too much time, he punches in his code and walks into the room, instantly getting into his suit, “FRIDAY, read me the rest of what Karen sent, put Peter’s vitals up on the screen.”
“Yes, boss, tracking his location now.”
The hero is out and flying to the location on the GPS only to see that the destination is at…the Parkers’ apartment.
The kid isn’t out.
And Tony has no idea if that’s a good thing or not.
Now knowing where he’s going, he turns off the GPS, trying not to let any panic set in at the boy’s ever slowly decreasing levels.
Or at the open window leading into the kid’s bedroom.
The billionaire stops right outside the window, carefully slipping inside and lifting up his faceplate.
He sees the tyke out cold on the bottom bunk of his bed, his left hand gripping his mask and a small puddle of drool next to his mouth. Tony would’ve thought this was adorable if he wasn’t so worried.
The older man kneels next to his kid and gives him a slight nudge, “C’mon, Pete, it’s time to wake up.” He nudges him a little more.
And a little more.
Tony gets more desperate as his anxiety skyrockets, “Peter, this isn’t funny, c’mon, wake up, we gotta get your idiotic ass fed yesterday.”
But Peter makes no notion of any plans to get up. The only way his mentor knows he’s still alive is by his vitals FRIDAY is whispering to him and the boy’s back rising and falling to the tune of his breathing.
“Kid, you’re really about to make me fucking do this,” Tony says with a sigh, grabbing the teen’s mask and putting if over his head to hide his identity, “FRIDAY, alert medbay, tell ‘em we’re on our way.”
“Roger that, boss.”
The mechanic slips his nameplate back over his face as he picks up his kid, positioning him like a toddler and sitting him on his arm, cupping the boy’s head to keep it close to his neck, “Might need two beds if I get a fucking panic attack over this,” he mumbles.
“Roger that, boss,” FRIDAY responds, not noticing the sarcasm.
“I didn’t mean - whatever,” Tony turns on his repulsors so he’s now hovering over the floor and with one leg at a time, he oh so gently flies out the window, not even bothering to close it as his suit takes off at full speed, determined to get this kid some help before…
He refuses to think about the rest of that sentence.
The entire flight back to the tower, Tony keeps a tight grip on his kid, damn near smushing Peter’s head against his neck. The man says occasional words of reassurance even though he knows no one is listening, “You’re gonna be okay, kiddo, you understand me? You have to be okay so I can whoop your ass later.”
Honestly, he’s not sure if he's saying this more to the kid or to himself.
He has superpowers, of course everything’s gonna be okay.
Because I said so, damn it.
-
Peter comes to, finding himself in a hospital gown on an equally uncomfortable bed, a bunch of wires attached to his left hand and a remote on the table to his right, assuming to adjust the bed and TV.
“What?” He mutters, taking in his surroundings. The room is a standard size with a marker board stating the healthcare professionals’ names, a portable cart containing whatever necessities the patient and doctor might need, along with an attached bathroom and window with a view of New York City.
What the fuck am I doing here?
He shifts on his bed in an effort to sit up but he accidentally hits something with his right leg.
The spider-boy tilts his head in confusion only to gasp at the sight of his father figure sitting in a chair next to him, fast asleep with his head on his kid’s bed, resting it on his crossed arms.
Peter can’t help but smile at the sight of Iron Man snoring but that doesn’t answer his question. He looks back down at the wires on his hand and follows them up to an IV bag with the label “glucose.”
Wait, glucose?
Everything hits the hero like a sack of potatoes as his mind takes him back to the last thing he remembers: the hunger, the little boy, Karen constantly telling him about his levels…
Deciding to take a nap.
And he wakes up here.
“Shit…shit, shit, shit, shit.”
The teenager jumps as he hears random beeps on some machine to his right. He feels his heart racing with panic and his legs start restlessly jerking from underneath his thin blankets, thus accidentally waking up his mentor.
Tony’s head snaps up when he feels his arms being nudged for about the fifth damn time. After blinking out of his stupor, he puts his focus on his frightened kid, “Peter, hey, hey,” he grabs hold of the tyke’s right hand and gives it a heartfelt squeeze, “Kid, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe now -” he cuts himself off at noticing his words aren’t doing shit and his other hand goes the young genius’s shoulder, “Peter.”
The child stops abruptly, looking right at his hero. Said man gives him a reassuring smile and comfortingly rubs his shoulder to calm him, “You’re okay, buddy, take a breather.”
“Wha-what happened?” Peter asks between deep breaths, doing as his father figure says and trying to settle down, “Is May okay -”
“She’s fine,” Tony confirms, releasing his protege’s shoulder. He can feel the kid’s iron-grip in his hand and makes no move to let go, “She was here earlier but I made her go home for a bit and rest up. I’d rather there’d be one adult with a sore back than two.”
“Wait, how long was I out?”
“Well, considering it’s now,” the billionaire takes a brief look at his watch, “One PM, about fifteen hours, give or take. You had one hell of a nap, if I do say so myself.”
“That sounds like an amazing nap, I wish I savored it,” the teen replies, “But what happened?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” Tony responds, face looking upset, “Why don’t you tell me why your levels were so low that I had to come get you in my damn suit and bring you back here?”
Peter sighs in frustration, “Glucose levels -”
“That’s right. When’s the last time you ate?”
“Um,” the spiderling starts, trying to be as vague as possible, “Dinner.”
Tony raises a confused eyebrow, “How much did you eat at dinner?”
“The normal amount,” Peter answers with a shrug.
Please don’t see through my bullshit.
“And you didn’t eat anything later on? You always have to eat something before bed.”
“I, uh,” the boy lets go of their grip, feeling his hand start to tremble uncontrollably. He brings it to his lap and puts it with his other hand under the covers, “Forgot.”
“You forgot to eat,” Tony says, face the epitome of unamused, “How do you forget to eat, your stomach practically screams at ya.”
“I just-I just did, okay, I’m sorry -”
“Oh really, you’re sorry? This ‘forgetfulness’ put you in the damn hospital, ‘sorry’ isn’t gonna cut it. I want you to tell me right now what the hell happened. Why did you let it get this bad?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Peter retorts, getting pissed at the man’s tone, “I didn’t want to end up like this, I thought I had it handled -”
“What handled, Peter?” At hearing no answer, the billionaire continues, “I already know about you Spider-Manning when you’re not supposed to -”
“It was one time! I couldn’t just let a kid get kidnapped cuz Spider-Man got grounded.”
Tony’s eyes soften at that, “Was that what happened last night?”
“Yeah, I heard it right outside the apartment building.” The teen’s voice lowers, “I was studying and I was about to get something to eat when I heard the kid scream, I-I couldn’t just let that happen. I was just gonna save the kid and come right back, I didn’t know it got that bad.”
“How hungry were you?”
“What?”
“How hungry were you?” The mechanic asks, repeating the question, “‘Cuz if you were just hungry, your levels wouldn’t’ve gotten that low. Kid, you were way past starving.”
The kid looks down in shame, feeling his cheeks heat up and he can only imagine how red they must look.
Tony then asks, trying to keep his tone as gentle as he can, “What is it that you’re so afraid to tell me, Peter?”
Peter looks up at him with sad eyes, biting his lip.
Fuck, he’s seeing through my bullshit.
Seeing no chance at a loophole, he knows he has to bite the bullet…but how does he go about telling billionaire Tony Stark that he’s not eating because his aunt can’t afford more food?
Said man asks, keeping his same tone, “Why are you not eating?”
“I am eating -”
“But clearly not enough, why? When you’re with me, you eat ‘til the cows come home - oh shit,” Tony cuts himself off, covering his mouth as his eyes widen in fear.
Peter’s eyes narrow in utmost confusion, “What, what is it?”
“You’re not eating as much as you should,” the older genius mumbles, trying to piece all this together, “And you pig out when you’re here.” He turns to his kid, sporting a scared expression, “Do you throw it all up later?”
That makes the other’s skin prickle into goosebumps, his own eyes bugging out, “What?!”
“It all makes sense now,” Tony states, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms in concentration, “You eat like a horse when you’re with me, but I just brought you here because you’re not eating enough at your place. You already threw it up when you saved that kid, didn’t you -”
“Oh my God!” Peter shouts, the insinuation sinking in, “You think I have an eating disorder?”
“What the hell else is it, Peter? No wonder you were scared to tell me -”
“No, Mr. Stark, it’s not that, I promise it’s not that.” The kid swallows a lump in his throat as he briefly purses his lips, finally giving in, “You don’t understand.”
“Try me -”
“I’m serious, you won’t.” Peter props his elbows on his knees above the covers, putting his head in his hands, “And I don’t expect you to understand.”
Tony leans forward, crossing his arms next to Peter’s outer thigh, his face unreadable, “Then make me understand,” he says slowly.
After a long deep sigh, the boy finally spits it out, head still in his hands, “I don’t get enough to eat.”
“What?”
Peter lifts his head up, resting his hands in his lap, “I don’t get enough to eat. At home, I mean.”
“May doesn’t feed you enough -”
“No, she does, it’s not May’s fault. She feeds me enough food…for if I didn’t have powers.”
It takes a few seconds but the hypothetical lightbulb goes off over the man’s head, “May doesn’t know you have to eat more.”
The spider-boy silently nods his head.
Tony asks, “Why didn’t you tell her?”
The tyke’s shoulders slump with dread. The guy who can buy fucking Google is about to hear his stupid working-class money troubles.
He then says, eyes looking everywhere but at his mentor, “‘Cuz she can’t afford it.”
“Wait, what?”
“She can’t afford it. I don’t know how she manages to buy enough for if I was just a normal human being, with all the bills and her loans and everything. She can’t buy more food for me, Mr. Stark. I’d love to get a job and help her out but I’m only fifteen -”
“Stop, stop right there,” Tony cuts him off, looking even more confused than he was earlier, “That’s what this is about? You don’t want her to buy more food?”
Peter looks up at the older man, looking offended, “It’s not that, I’d love for her to buy more food but she can’t. I’ve seen the bills when she thinks I’m not looking, or her student loans she’s behind on. God, if it wasn’t for my scholarship I wouldn’t even be going to Midtown ‘cuz we can’t afford it.” His voice lowers as humiliation sets in, “Which is why I have to get my history grade up.” His eyes grow to the size of his head, “Oh my God, my test is today -”
“Don’t worry about it, I called the school this morning, you can make it up next week.”
“Next week? But it’s Thursday -”
“Yeah, you’re gonna need more than one day to recuperate after all of this,” Tony says, slightly annoyed, “Why didn’t you tell me you guys are having money issues, I can help you out -”
Peter cuts him off with a humorless laugh, “You really think that’s gonna solve everything?”
“If it means to get you to eat more, it absolutely will,” the billionaire responds, raising his voice in offense.
“I knew you wouldn’t get it -”
“Then make me get it, for God’s sakes, you need money and I can give it to you -”
“We’re not a charity case, don’t you understand?” The child exclaims, “We’re doing fine, we don’t need help -”
“Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing -”
“But we are!” Peter sighs deeply in frustration, “You’re not the first person to offer us money, okay? You don’t know how it feels.”
“How what feels?”
“For someone to try and help you out by giving you money. It sounds great on paper but you’ve never had someone give you this-this ‘look’ of pity that makes you feel this big,” Peter shapes his thumb and index finger into the shape of a “C”, with both fingertips almost touching, “All because you’re not making that much money. I just, I don’t wanna put Aunt May through that again. She’s proud of what she does, she loves what she does, she loves helping people. I don’t want anyone belittling her again.”
That makes Tony pause.
While yes, no shit he knows the vast majority of people don’t have his kind of money but most of the people in his life over the years only hung out with him because of his money. He’s never thought about the opposite end of that coin, how someone is proud of making a living, especially being in a profession that they love.
And that as long as they can provide for them and their family, they don’t need to be a billionaire to be happy.
“You really love May, don’t you?” Tony finally asks, a proud smile spreading across his face.
“More than anything,” his protege says with a nod of his head, “So please don’t tell her -”
“You know I can’t do that -”
“Please -”
“No, Pete, while your intentions are good, I can’t let you keep starving yourself like this. Who knows what would’ve happened if you weren’t in your suit, if I didn’t get that notification from Karen.” The older hero grabs hold of his mentee’s hand again, “Hey look at me.”
Peter reluctantly looks up at his father figure, his shame slowly but surely ebbing away.
Tony gently his thumb over the tyke’s knuckles, giving him a reassuring smile, “You deserve to eat. We’re gonna tell May and we’re gonna figure this out, okay?”
An unexpected third voice erupts from the doorway, “Tell May what?”
Both heroes’ heads snap to the front to see the woman herself walk in, closing the door behind her. She immediately rushes to the other side of her kid, giving him a hug, “How you doing, sweetie, you gave us quite a scare there.”
Peter hugs her back letting go of Tony’s hand, “I’m better now, thanks to Mr. Stark.”
“It’s nothing, bud,” the mechanic says, comfortingly rubbing the tyke’s knee, “I’m just glad I can help.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Tony,” May says when they separate, sitting down in her own chair opposite the older man, “I know I said that like a million times, but really, I owe you one -”
“You don’t owe me a thing, not where the kid is concerned.” Tony turns to his intern, “But you actually came at the perfect time ‘cuz Pete here has something he’s gotta tell you.”
“Oh?” May turns to her nephew, grabbing hold of his left hand, being mindful of the wires connected to him, “Is it about what happened, I’ve been dying to know.”
“Yeah,” Peter replies, defeatedly, “I’m sorry I went out as Spider-Man but I had a good reason.”
“We’ll talk about that later, I’m just glad you’re okay. What happened, sweetie, you’ve been eating just like you always have, what was the problem?”
“That’s the thing, May,” the boy starts, scratching the back of his neck, “There’s something I didn’t tell you about me after I got my powers.” He doesn’t wait for her response, “I have to eat more than I used to to keep up with them. I have I guess what you call an ‘enhanced metabolism’, meaning I have to eat more than everyone else.”
The nurse’s eyes squint in confusion before her eyebrows raise as everything sets in, “Oh my God,” she says, leaning back in her chair and hand covering her face, not unlike what Tony did earlier, “So all this time you were starving yourself?”
“Well -”
“Why, Peter?! Why the hell would you do that?”
“‘Cuz I know you wouldn’t be able to afford it, okay?” Peter cries, “I didn’t want you to struggle any more than you already do -”
“Stop,” May cuts him off with another hug, her eyes glistening with unshed tears behind her glasses, “Stop, baby, stop.” She lets go and looks right in his eyes, “Don’t ever pull that shit with me again, you understand?”
Peter nods his head, letting a small grin escape him at hearing a muffled snicker from Tony, “I promise. Um,” he takes a deep breath as his aunt settles back into her chair, “It’s also why my history grade is as bad as it is.”
“What?” Both adults ask at the same time.
“Uh,” the teen starts, fidgeting with his top blanket, “So the free lunch I get at school doesn’t fill me up obviously and Ned sometimes brings extra food and that helps…for a while.”
“I know where this is going,” he hears Tony mumble.
“Yeah, and history is my last class of the day so by the time that comes around, I’m really, really hungry so I have a hard time concentrating. In my defense though, it’s boring as shit.”
Both adults can’t help but giggle, “Yeah, history wasn’t my strong suit either,” Tony says, coming to his kid’s defense.
“Peter, this is why you need to tell me things,” May says, “You still understand why I punished you, though -”
“Yeah, even though I hated it. Is Spider-Man ungrounded now?”
“You get rested up and eat for once and we’ll talk.”
“Deal,” the kid confirms with a grunt.
As if on cue, his stomach releases an ever so slight gurgle. As much as the IV bag has helped, he needs actual food sustenance.
Tony says, pressing the button to call a nurse, “And on that note, let’s get you patched up and we’ll order in, how ‘bout that?”
May cuts in, “And you can have allll the orange chicken your tummy desires.”
Peter gives them both a timid smile, wincing as another growl rolls in his abdomen, “That sounds amazing.”
-
“Mr. Stark, I’m a failure.”
“Kid, you know you’re not, it’s just a few dates and inventions.”
“You make the Industrial Revolution sound like it’s the easiest thing in the world.”
It is now the following week, the day before Peter’s makeup history test, and the father-son duo are in the lab after school. Instead of actually working on anything, Tony is helping his kid study.
If only he can get Peter to put the material in that hard head of his.
“You get into that mindset, and it will be the easiest thing in the world, bud.”
“Easy for you to say,” Peter whines, “Your scholarship’s not riding on this.”
Aw, how cute that he thinks I won’t help him out.
“Forget about the scholarship, you’re already stressed as it is. Focus on the triple cheeseburger you’re gonna get after this thing is finally over.”
“The two triple cheeseburgers,” the kid shyly elaborates.
Ever since the tyke dropped that bombshell about him freaking starving himself, things have changed. For one, May - refusing Tony’s help - is buying more groceries and always makes sure her kid gets a lunch in addition to the free one that’s available. Whenever Peter stays with his father figure, things stay the same except now when Tony makes dinner, he purposely makes more for leftovers.
And now, the man is about to present his kid with another way to help him out.
“Pete, I think your brain might actually explode, let’s take a break for a sec, huh?”
After releasing a long, dramatic sigh, Peter drops his pencil, “Y’know what? Fuck history.”
Tony can’t help but bust out laughing, “Kid, you know why you have to learn it, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but it’s not like I’m gonna be a historian or anything.” The teen gets up and walks over to where his father figure is standing, “Whatcha wanna work on?”
“Actually, I want you to do this for me first.” The billionaire takes a folded piece of paper out of his jeans pocket and unravels it, holding it out to his protege, “I want you to sign right here, and initial here.” He points to the designated areas where a signature is required as the teen takes the document, reading what it says in confusion before his eyes widen in shock.
“You’re…you wanna make my internship a paid internship?” Peter asks, not believing what he’s seeing, “And May already signed it?”
“Yup, you’re not eighteen so I needed May’s approval. So,” Tony casually leans against the table, holding out a pen for the kid, “What d’ya say?”
“I-I,” the teen stutters, his gaze not leaving the sheet of paper, “But like it’s not actually an internship, that’s just a front -”
“Really? You think all the stuff you do around here is just a front?” The older genius asks with a cheeky smile, “Making up web fluid and all the repairs you help me do, I should’ve done this a long time ago if I’m being honest.”
Peter looks long and hard at the writing in front of him, occasionally glancing back and forth at both that and the man who put it together.
He’s not stupid, the kid knows why his mentor is bringing this to his attention.
And he’s grateful.
Tony could’ve tried offering money again, making him feel like a loser even though he didn’t mean it in that way.
But no, Iron Man is offering him a job, a job where he can continue doing what he loves while he helps out his aunt in the process.
He can feel accomplished…proud even.
A smile breaks out across the teen’s face as he takes everything in, thinking about what he can do with the money he’s going to make in addition to helping May: saving up for college, a car, and ooh that Nintendo Switch he’s been dying to have -”
His thoughts are interrupted by Tony clearing his throat, snapping him back to reality, “My arm’s getting tired here, kiddo, you in or not?” The man asks.
Peter takes the pen and lays the sheet on the table, signing on the dotted lines before giving it back to him, “Um, th-thank you, thank you, Mr. Stark, you’re amazing.” He concludes with giving him a hug, wrapping his arms around his hero’s torso thus making the older man gasp in surprise.
“Well, I already knew that,” Tony says jokingly, giving the tyke a light ruffle of his hair, “But it sounds so much better when you say it. You’re the amazing one, don’t doubt that.”
“Tell that to my history book.”
“Speaking of,” the mechanic starts with a snicker, “The Second Industrial Revolution -”
Peter cuts him off with a groan, defeatedly resting his head on the other’s chest, “You said I could take a break -”
“Yeah, for a sec.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“But you ‘needa’, c’mon, back to studying.” Tony lifts his mentee’s head and lightly pushes him back to the direction of his textbook, “So, who invented the telephone?”
“Uh, ‘Mr. Telephone’? He probably used his last name when he invented it.”
Tony lets out about the deepest sigh he’s ever expressed, “So this is how my hair goes gray.”
-
The following week, it is an ordinary day at the Parkers’ residence. May is preparing dinner while her nephew - who is still feeling satisfied from his after-school snack - is at the counter working on homework, trying not to stare so much at his history test that his aunt stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet.
But damn, he’ll never get tired of seeing that shiny red “B-plus.”
There is a sudden knock at the door, making both Parkers tense up since they’re not expecting anybody.
May opens the door with her kid standing off to the side. On the other side stands a middle-aged man holding a clipboard with about half a dozen bags on the ground around him.
Are Peter’s eyes mistaken or do those bags look like the reusable ones grocery stores sell?
“Ms. Parker?” The man asks, voice neutral but friendly.
“Uh, yes?” May reluctantly responds, looking the epitome of confused.
“I got your groceries here for ya.”
“What, um I didn’t order anything, Peter, did you?” The nurse turns to her kid who responds with a simple shake of his head, his expression matching his aunt’s.
The man’s eyes squint at the small clipboard he’s holding, “Isn’t this your address, ma’am?” He holds the clipboard out to the older Parker and she studies the sheet for a couple of seconds, eyes looking more and more baffled.
“Uh…yeah, yeah that’s us but-but I don’t understand -”
“No need to explain, I’m just the messenger. If you would just sign right here, saying you received your items -”
“Sir, with all due respect, I’m not paying for something I didn’t order.”
“Don’t worry about it, that’s all taken care of. All I need from you is your signature.”
“Uh,” May stutters, shoulders slumping in defeat, “Okay, sure.” She signs the paper and gives it back to him.
“Do you need assistance with the groceries today?”
“No, we got it from here, uh, thank you, thank you very much.”
“Alright, have a good day,” the delivery man then leaves them be. They pick up the grocery bags and bring them inside, quickly going through them as if it’s Christmas.
They gawk at the food items in front of them: steak, salmon, lobster, there’s even veal and duck amongst a pile of vegetables, some of which they’ve never even seen before.
“Where did all of this come from?” Peter asks, amazed at all that “Santa Claus” has graced them with.
“Wait, there’s a note.” May reaches the bottom of one of the bags and pulls out a mini note card that could mimic one that goes in a flower arrangement. She then reads aloud the brief message.
This is what you get for refusing help. Expect groceries every Monday and Thursday for the next, well, ever.
Signed, “You Know Who I Am” -
“Mr. Stark,” Peter finishes with a disbelieving grin, “Of course he did this.”
May can’t help but laugh, not believing this herself as she gets out her phone, “I’m giving this man a piece of my mind.”
Her nephew giggles in response, already getting out his own phone and sending his father figure a text.
Thanks for the groceries but you reeeeeally didn’t have to do that
Tony responds not even a minute later.
I know 😉
Now for God’s sakes EAT!!
#baloobird writes#friendly neighborhood fic exchange#marvel#peter parker#tony stark#may parker#spider-man#iron man#irondad#irondad and spiderson#angst#fluff#hurt/comfort#tw eating disorder mention#tw attempted kidnapping#malnutrition#starvation#protective tony stark#protective may parker#medical inaccuracies
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Title: Genus and Species
Collaborator Name: @27dragons & @tisfan
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030251
Square Filled:
Tony Stark Flash Bingo (Aug) - Thanos (both)
Starkbucks Bingo - I3: “I got nothing” (27dragons), O4: Time Travel (to the Future) (tisfan)
Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony
Rating: G
Major Tags & Triggers: None
Other Tags: Time Travel, Established Relationship, Dinosaurs, Robots
Summary: Tangling with Thanos has landed Bucky and Tony somewhere -- or somewhen -- they don’t know. No, Tony, you can’t bring the dinosaur home and keep it as a pet.
Word Count: 1703
For @tonystarkbingo and @starkbucksbingo
When Bucky opened his eyes, all he could see was green in all directions. At first he thought that was just the remainder of the Time Stone’s power. Thanos had done… something. No one quite knew what because the battle had been so confusing; the Power Stone blasting purple rays everywhere, the Space Stone moving people out of position, lord only knew what was happening with the Reality Stone. And then there had been a great, green wave of energy--
“Ug,” said someone nearby. It took Bucky a moment to clear his thoughts enough to identify it: Tony. “I feel like a Pride parade just swallowed me whole and then puked me out.” A pause. “Why are we in a jungle?”
“I got nothing,” Bucky said, rolling over to look at Tony. The Iron Man suit was pretty banged up, souvenirs of the battle. “I think-- I’m not sure. Strange was yelling something about a time vortex. It’s hard to understand him under normal circumstances.” Thanos had zapped Bucky with the Mind Stone at least three times, somehow sensing the Winter Soldier would be easier to control.
Bucky did not appreciate it.
Tony made some kind of noise that was hard to interpret through the suit’s speakers, and then retracted the helmet to look around. “Okay, well, those are deciduous trees, so we haven’t been thrown back more than three hundred million years or so.”
“There are jungles all over the world,” Bucky said, grumbling and getting to his feet. He might only look about thirty-five or so, but there were days he felt all one hundred of his years. Knees. Knees were a thing. Also, poor design. “Any signal?”
Tony made a face and then reformed the helmet. “...Some,” he said. “Nothing I can hook into right away, but there’s something out there.”
“Right, Mulder,” Bucky snarked. “All right, we do this the old fashioned way.” He dug out a set of binoculars and hung them around his neck. “You stay down here, you’re too colorful. Any sniper in the area might want to take a stab at you.” He didn’t necessarily disinclude himself on that list, but the sort of stabbing he had in mind was generally not for polite company. He looked around for a good, tall tree and scrambled up, swinging himself from branch to branch. When he got high enough, he paused, waiting for the wind, so it wouldn’t just be one tree shaking like crazy.
Finally, he breached the canopy and could get a look around.
Jungle.
More freaking bush than he’d seen since Cambodia.
Trees, and trees, and more trees. In the distance, he made out a mountain (also covered in trees) and a break in the trees that was either a road or a river.
Something was moving.
Bucky turned the binocs in that direction. Something big was moving. Trees swayed and crunched. Something really damn big. Bucky could feel the vibrations of its footsteps in the tree he was clinging to.
“Clear,” he yelled, and then just let go. He could handle drops up to fifty feet without too much trouble, and the ground here was soft and springy.
He’d just reached Tony’s side when the something fucking roared. Like a tiger crossed with an elephant and the size of a blue whale.
“That’s a dinosaur,” Bucky said with forced calm. “We should get the heck to shelter, like, yesterday.”
“What kind of dinosaur?” Tony wondered. “Might be an herbivore. That would be cool, actually.”
“May I remind you that the current contenders for biggest, meanest land animals are moose and hippos, and they’re both herbivores,” Bucky said. “Can we do something productive, like finding a cave, or an overhang, before it sees us, and decides we’re lunch?”
“Oh, fine.” Tony tossed a couple of microcameras up onto the trees where they clung like particularly bright insects, then turned in a slow circle. “Infrared suggests some hollow rock in that direction,” he said, pointing. “If there’s not a natural entrance, we can make one.”
Bucky nodded, then took point. It bothered him a little that there wasn’t someone taking up the rear between Tony and whatever was out there, and reminded himself that Tony was an experienced fighter, and he had a suit of armor, which was pretty damn tough.
The whatever it was sped up, moving at them-- Bucky tipped his head to one side while he ran the math. Nearly thirty miles per hour. Bucky picked up the pace a little bit. On flat ground, Bucky could run almost sixty miles per hour, but this was not flat. Nor was it a good plan for him to expend that much energy before they had any idea what they were up against, or if there was much in the way of food in the nearby vicinity.
“Got your cave, ten o’clock,” Bucky said. There was a bit of a clearing and then they could squeeze in, one at a time. “How far back does it--”
Bucky stopped as the -- freaking hell -- dinosaur came crashing out of the jungle, about six meters high and full of teeth.
“That,” he said, firmly, “is a dinosaur. I don’t care what you just said about the deciduous thingies.”
“There were deciduous trees long before there were dinosaurs,” Tony said distractedly. He was looking up at the dinosaur, his head cocked. “It’s not a dinosaur, though.”
“Okay, you go out and tell it that it don’t exist,” Bucky snapped. “If it’s going to eat us, does species really matter?”
“The species doesn’t matter,” Tony said. “What matters is that it’s a robot. I don’t think we’ve gone back in time at all. I think we went forward.”
Bucky stared at him. “I fail to see how this is an improvement in any way.” Probably worse, honestly. Dinosaurs were at least skin and bone and nerve endings. And most living things were afraid of fire.
“Dinosaurs are your department, sweetheart,” Tony said. “Robots are mine. Get in the cave and stay out of its sight.” Without waiting for a response, he launched into the air, a wide, spiraling path that would take him around the dinosaur-robot-thing a few times before he reached the level of its head.
Bucky slid into the shadows where he could still watch, sighing. “If you bring back a giant dino-shaped robot from the future as a pet and say ‘can we keep it’ I promise you, Steve is gonna kill you.”
“Not if my pet dino-robot eats him first,” Tony said cheerfully, even as he swerved to avoid the thing’s lunging bite. He dipped and spun and wound up clinging to the dino-robot’s back.
The dino-robot was extremely unamused by the sudden disappearance of its prey. It whirled and snapped, clipping several branches as big around as Bucky’s arm with all the ease of a hedge-trimmer.
Tony was muttering under his breath, technical terms that made no sense even when Bucky knew what they meant, because they weren’t connected to each other, just little fragments of sentences and thoughts, punctuated with occasional grunts as the dinosaur made various attempts to dislodge him.
“You got an EMP grenade?” he called down after what seemed like hours and was probably no more than a minute or two.
Bucky stuffed his left hand into his satchel, the sensor array in his fingertips cataloging his equipment neatly. “Two. You want me to throw it, or lend it to ya?” EMP grenades were pretty good against Doombots, their occasional throw downs with raging maniacs like Doc Ock, and more than a few times against the US military who had a perpetual boner for shooting at the Hulk.
“Toss it up here,” Tony said. “This thing runs on a-- oof! --slightly different frequency than the ones we’re used to, I need to do a mod.”
“I don’t know about you, smart-guy,” Bucky said. He dashed across the clearing, rolling when he got to the far side, “but I am not used to giant robo-dinosaurs.” He threw the grenade with such precision that Tony only had to hold out his hand to be able to catch it.
“Perfect, good throw,” Tony said, because he was consistently amazed at Bucky’s aim. (And Clint’s, if Bucky had to be honest.) He let go of the dinosaur’s back and shot up higher into the sky, just out of its reach, hovering in the air as he retracted one gauntlet and started fiddling with the grenade.
After snapping uselessly at Tony a few times, the dino seemed to realize there was something else under its feet. A large snout bent down to snort at Bucky, who promptly punched it in the nose with his left arm. “Bad dino-bot, no biting,” Bucky scolded. The snout didn’t even seem damaged. Crap, that was probably bad.
The dino-bot did not smell like a robot. It smelled like rotting meat, probably the result of whatever it had caught in its teeth.
“Almost done!” Tony called. “Hang in there!”
“Whatever you’re doing, do it faster!”
The dino-bot made another lunge for Bucky that he was barely able to dodge by diving behind a large tree. And then he had to roll out of the way again when the dino’s attack knocked the tree over.
The dino roared again. Why did a robot have to roar? That seemed entirely unnecessary.
But as it did, Tony swooped down and chucked the EMP into its mouth, then dropped the rest of the way to the ground to get between it and Bucky. “--two, one.”
“You make a pretty good shield,” Bucky muttered, putting his shoulder to Tony’s spine. They’d discovered a few times, the hard way, that the arm wasn’t always too great at dealing with EMPs either, but the suit made for a good Faraday cage.
The dino-robot closed its mouth, made an entirely biological hiccup sound, and then--
WHUMP!
The mouth dropped open.
Very slowly, the dino-bots legs folded--
And it fell over, crushing more trees and wrecking the landscape.
“Well, that’s that, then,” Tony said. “Unless, of course, there are more of them out there. We should probably work on finding a way home so we can kick Thanos’ butt.”
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Justice League Spectacular #1 (1992)
Just off-panel: Bibbo's ice cream truck.
I probably shouldn't be reading this or Justice League Quarterly before I read the Giffen/DeMatteis Justice League but what can I do? That's the order they were placed in the short box! It would be a different story if free will were not an illusion but since it is, my hands are tied. It's either read this or, um, I don't know. Die from a temporal paradox? I won't risk it!
I was looking through a bunch of my old writing and art last week and discovered a bunch of the kind of sentimental and sort of intellectual crap young people write. It's the kind of stuff you hide away and never show anybody ever and hope that when you die, it'll just get tossed in a dumpster with your old porn and Magic the Gathering cards. But it got me thinking about how brave I am! So brave! The kind of brave you wouldn't hesitate to call some jerk who signed up for the military because he couldn't live as a civilian. No, no. More braver than that! And being this super brave kind of person, I thought that maybe I should share some of this old poetry with everybody!
But not yet! You have to work up to being truly brave! So instead, I'll share this piece of artwork I did that was supposed to be the first in a lengthy and disgusting series. It's of Lord Fondlerot, a character I created for the Dwarflover online comic I used to do. He was really into fucking things and I thought, "Hey! I should do a series of drawings where he fucks every creature in the monster manual!" But instead of doing an entire series, I drew one picture and grew either bored or disgusted with the concept. So here's that one picture:
Lord Fondlerot fucking an Axebeak.
Now you're probably wondering just how terrible my poetry must be if I'm opening with that! Well, you'll see soon enough!
This issue begins with Sue Dibny still alive and visiting a Florida theme park with her husband, The Elasticated Man. Wow, remember when Sue Dibny was killed and all the heroes freaked out about their secret identities and considered doing intense brain damage to every single person who ever knew any of their identities until they found out that The Atom's ex-wife Jean Loring had gone cuckoo for Atom's cocoa puffs? She wanted them back so bad that she began threatening and murdering the loved ones of all the super heroes. It was the kind of story DC sometimes does where you read it and think, "Well, the twist at the end of that mystery was definitely worth the destruction of the most stable marriage in the DC Universe and also the death of Firestorm and Captain Boomerang! So good!" I mean it doesn't make you think that. It makes you think the exact opposite. Tom King would eventually do pretty much the same thing in Heroes in Crisis but instead of Jean Loring fucking up by accidentally killing Sue Dibny and murdering more people to cover her tracks, Wally West fucks up and kills Poison Ivy and some others and then tries to cover his tracks. But at least Tom King's had all of those entertaining scenes where the heroes are doing therapy and we get to see how much they're all suffering from PTSD. That's always a fun aspect of super heroes we never get to read enough about.
Dammit! I keep doing it. I meant it was the opposite of fun! Although I still liked it because sometimes I just like seeing other people in pain. Not in a sick perverse way where I pop a boner or something! Just in that way where you sit around all day thinking, "My life is terrible and everything is wrong and I hate my parents for bringing me into this wretched existence and the only thing that might make me feel better is to learn that Superman sometimes feels the same way."
Oh, remember when Tom King was writing Batman and he had that two issue Booster Gold arc where we got to see how fucking insane Booster Gold was from living through all of those horrible, wretched, dark alternate timelines? And the only way he can deal with the trauma and the PTSD is by making a joke out of everything? I'll have to think of that as the canon Booster Gold when I'm reading Giffen and DeMatteis's Justice League. Maybe it'll make all of Booster and Beetle's inappropriate joking more appropriate.
Back to the story, Sue Dibny, alive and well, and her husband Ralph "The Elasticated Man" Dibny are busy showing a bunch of European diplomats around the non-Disney World theme park.
See? You can tell they're European because they're all smart and shit.
The first stop in the park is to Alice's Wonderland where the diplomats are attacked by the Royal Flush Gang. They are a gang whose theme is playing cards and not expensive toilets. Their powers are the ability to ride on gigantic cards and to make poker puns.
If looking good in tight fitting costumes is also a power, it's my new answer to the question of which super power would I choose..
Ten's outfit reminds me of the days when nipples were allowed to show through tops without being erased away through some kind of editing software. The 70s were a wild decade! Sure, there were also nips on television in the 80s but the 80s, generally speaking, sucked and were a huge contribution to the downfall of America.
The King of Spades mansplaining their entire concept to the Queen of Spades.
It's true that the royal flush beats any other poker hand but I doubt Superman is going to surrender after this concept is explained to him because, in the end, they're not fucking playing poker.
It turns out Maxwell Lord paid the Royal Flush Gang to make a little trouble so the Justice League could beat them up and get some media attention. But the Justice League has apparently broken up and The Elasticated Man just isn't hero enough to save the European delegates all by himself. He might have been if the Royal Flush Gang had done what they were told and not really fight back. But why would they do that?! Wouldn't they still be in trouble with federal agents?!
Booster Gold finds Blue Beetle busy pouting in the old Justice League cave headquarters. Booster has decided to try to cheer his old buddy up although why wouldn't Booster just travel to a timeline where Ted Kord is already cheered up? Is that how time travel works in the DCU? Or did Booster already try that, it went horribly sideways, and now he's a little more fucked up in the head when he returns to the "real" timeline?
For some reason, Ice and Fire have also come down to the cave. Probably to accidentally go on a double date with Booster and Beetle.
Booster and Fire and Beetle and Ice hear a news report about the Royal Flush Gang and decide to go save Ralph. Superman also hears about the situation and heads to Florida where he's almost immediately defeated by The Royal Flush Gang. Not because they're dangerous and competent super villains but because some mysterious benefactor has give them weapons capable of knocking out Superman's powers. Maxwell Lord is not that benefactor so who could have done it? Certainly not Guy Gardner, right?! What would he want with getting the Justice League back together. Isn't he busy being Warrior or something by this point?
Power Girl, Metamorpho, and Guy Gardner all join in on the fight. The guy behind it all is that Weapons Master dude who is desperate to get a new weapon for his arsenal: a Green Lantern ring. The attack on the Royal Flush Gang fails to get him the ring so he decides to attack directly. But not in this issue! He has to wait for a regular series issue.
Ice uses Guy's ring to contact Hal Jordan because somebody finally decided this Justice League wasn't really a big league Justice League. Everybody reading it knew it for years. But I guess Dan Jurgens was assigned the task to get a new, more believably powerful League together. So Hal Jordan flies around to pick up some new members to save the day. He chooses The Flash and Aquaman which seems about right. But he also chooses Crimson Fox which seems like sliding backwards into goofy Justice League territory. Not that I totally approve of Aquaman but I have to admit he's a "serious" choice for the League.
Doctor Light also joins the party. Although why she'd keep the name of a pedo, I couldn't guess. Just become Lightwoman or something. But no! Once some jerk earns their doctorate, they just have to demand to be called Doctor.
I'm sorry. I was too distracted pointing out that Doctor Light joined the fight and how her namesake was a pervert to comment on Metamorpho acting like a huge fucking pig.
Crimson Fox beats up some guys dressed as cards and admits that she's a boring idiot whose favorite part of the game is shuffling the cards. I understand the need to think up some kind of goofy one-liner when you go into battle but shouldn't you at least try to think up one that doesn't make yourself sound like a pathetic asshole?
Weapons Master's plan failed but he figures he has enough information to get Green Lantern's ring next time. He'll then sell it to a Dominator for a few bucks and maybe some slaves.
The big hitters talk it over and decide they should start a new Justice League without the approval of the United Nations. Yeah! Who needs some stupid Earthly authority when you've got an invulnerable Kryptonian, an all powerful space cop, and the king of the seven seas! All they need is a Greek Goddess and a mentally ill furry with a long history of violent behavior and they'll have the big team back together! Booyah! I mean, without that stupid Booyah shit because Cyborg is basically a toaster at this point. Maybe. I don't know! What am I, Johnni DC, Continuity Cop?!
The heroes make one more decision: split the group into two Leagues. So once again, they're forming Justice League America and Justice League Europe. How come I don't remember this shit?! Did the comics get canceled in '92 and then immediately fired back up? I don't seem to remember two different incarnations of these teams. Maybe I should have stored my comic books in chronological order so it would all make sense.
Justice League Spectacular #1 Rating: C. I just read the letters pages and it looks like this comic book takes place between JLA #60 and JLA #61! So editorial decided the teams needed to be shaken up and the best way to do it was to disband the League in the regular series, have a special one-shot comic that gets them back together but with a different roster, and then send them back to work in the next issue of the regular series. I guess I should just shove this comic book into the middle of the regular series so when I reread it all again in my 80s, it'll make more sense! Let's close with the worst drawing of Aquaman I've ever seen:
Actually, he looks a little bit like Grunion Guy.
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50 More Days of Comics! 24/50: Arak: Son of Thunder Annual #1 (1984)
“ARAK: IN THE LAIR OF THE SERPENT LORD”
Pretty great title.
I am pretty sure I had never heard of this character until I saw this cover! Probably! He might have been in one of the weirder Justice League Unlimited issues. I think in JLU it turns out that the world is hollow and that there’s a fantasy world inside it for some reason? Or maybe that was an episode of Superman?
Anyway, Arak (Son of Thunder) is an interesting sort.
He was a relatively respectful Native American character for his time which meant that he did not have broken speech or stereotypical powers like super-tracking (looking at you nearly every X-Men Native American character).
And he has a pretty bonkers backstory for a guy that was initially a Conan the Barbarian ripoff.
(Roy Thomas explicitly says in the letters column in the back of this issue that he came up with Arak because Conan Properties wouldn’t let him write a Conan novel. So. Y’know. Make of that what it is.)
See, Star-of-Dawn of the Quontauka Native tribe was fleeing from an amorous evil serpent god and was rescued by the thunder god He-No. She married He-No out of gratitude for saving her from an evil horny snake god but wasn’t really in love with him and missed her people so he returned her home.
And then she gave birth to a demigod, Bright-Sky-After-Storm.
Later, in a one-two punch the serpent god attached He-No while a tribe that worshipped evil snakes attacked the Quontauka. While thunder has a type advantage against snakes, He-No sacrificed himself to save his son and send him floating out into the sea where he was out of reach.
Where he was found by Vikings, as ya do.
One of the Vikings raised him and named him Eric, which became Arak due to the young boy’s mispronunciation.
He joins their raids until a sorceress sends a sea serpent after the Vikings. The serpent kills all but Arak who throws a cross like a Castlevania and impales the serpent through the brain.
A nearby monk says that god has delivered them which makes Arak wonder if it was the monk’s god or his own god. And so he sets off to have adventures and becomes a good friend of Charlemagne and gets romantically involved with a paladin called Valda the Iron Maiden.
So basically Arak has an awesome life, give or take being serially orphaned.
Aside from being set in a real historical period, Arak tends to interact with real mythological nonsense rather than Conan’s sword and sorcery type deal.
And that’s the need to know for this annual. Oh, that and he at some point found the flaming sword of Gabriel, which drove the first humans out of Eden and which can command Christian, Jew, and Muslim. That is a thing that exists and that Arak has and that the bad guy wants.
And as this annual starts, Arak and his good pal Satyricus (…… a satyr, obviously) are on their way to the titular lair of the serpent lord to exchange the Sword of Gabriel for boy-prince Alsind and his cousin Sharizad, friends of Arak’s that the Serpent Lord took hostage.
They are briefly waylaid by desert bandits who get the best of Arak by taking Satyricus the Satyr hostage but the Sword of Gabriel is the real sword of evil’s bane and when the bandit leader unveils it, it burns out his eyes.
Between this and Indiana Jones, god stuff is just really user unfriendly, isn’t it?
The bandits flee in terror of the eye melting sword and Arak has to reswaddle the thing.
No easy task as it wants to rocket to heaven and also its on fire.
Through some weird ritual that Arak himself doesn’t quite understand, he… iunno, wipes the fire into the hilt? so he can rewrap the blade.
Satyricus has some misgivings about turning over the Sword of Gabriel to the Serpent Lord who either works for or is the same snake god that tried to boink Arak’s mom and wiped out his tribe. But Arak gotta do what Arak gotta do.
Then a giant, unnatural cyclone comes at them. Satyricus promises to stick to Arak like his shadow but he’s just so small. He gets blown away by the winds. And as the cyclone blasts Arak with sand he swears he’ll find his friend.
But for some reason, being buffeted by winds makes Arak start contemplating his life backwards, thinking of Valda, the paladin. Thinking of the sea serpent who killed the Vikings who adopted him. Thinking of the good times he had raiding and pillaging with them.
And when the winds subside he finds himself in a familiar forest, the very forest of his long lost birthplace!
Tornados are surprisingly good transportation in fiction.
Satyricus finds himself in quite a different locale though. The tornado somehow blew him into a cave. A cave with a Cerberus in it. Aw hell, he’s in Hades!
The dogs don’t bork which means he’s dead and belongs so he passes by them and meets the ferryman Charon who offers Satyricus a ride across the river Styx.
Satryicus has no coin and also doesn’t want to be dead yet. He has so much to live for. “For love, Charon! Love of green fields, sunshine, sweet fruits, and tender women. Aye, and for love of a friend – one I’ve sworn to protect as he searches the world for his homeland!”
And then a dead friend of Satyricus’ pops up and sasses him.
Khiron: “Just like you, Satyricus, to die without a Grecian obol to your name!”
And then he tells Satyricus to just wade across the river. Pssh what? Its going to kill the dead? Yeah right! What even is the point of Charon here? For ghosts afraid to get their feet wet?
Because he does it! Satyricus just wades across. And he’s short!
Satyricus and Khiron catch up before Satyricus decides actually fuck being dead and decides to spring Khiron. The centaur protests he’s too weak to jail break out of Hades and Charon is like come on dude I’mma have to scythe you if you try to leave.
But Satyricus kicks a hole in Charon’s boat, which tips the skeleton into the drink when it capsizes. The satyr steals Charon’s scythe and thus the scyther becomes the one who is scythed.
He stabs Charon.
Actually pretty crafty, Satyricus. Granted, you look sinister af due to cultural biases against short hairy men with goat legs, goatees, and horns but well played.
He also stabs Cerberus. And I understand that it had to be done to escape but it still fills me with sadness. That poor doggo.
Satyricus and Khiron find themselves emerging into the green glades of ancient Greece. And together they vow that the last centaur and the last satyr will drive the barbarians out of the land and restore its glory. I’m not up on my relative time periods so I’m not sure which barbarians were occupying Greece during the time of Charlemagne but its probably a good thing for a satyr and centaur to start a populous movement.
Elsewhere in America perhaps, Arak ponders his situation. The witch-queen Angelica once used magic to show him that some Quontauka were still alive and offered to transport him to them. But since she was quite evil, he didn’t agree. But maybe a similar magic was in that ol’ tornado.
He doesn’t have much time to ponder because the snake tribe is attacking the Quontauka again! He rushes in and starts cutting and scalding people.
He sees a snake tribesman about to split open an old woman’s skull as his mother’s was years ago but this time he has a sword that is on fire! And he throws it at the dude and burns him. The burned guy flees.
To his surprise, Arak discovers that not only is this situation reminiscent to what happened to his mother its actually his actual supposedly dead mother that he saved!
Arak’s grandfather White-Snow Owl arrives and asks him to take up the fire sword as the Quontauka’s warchief and put the fear in all other tribes.
Arak protests that he did not return to lead them against tribes that have no quarrel with them. Besides, his journey isn’t done. The hostages of the serpent lord will die unless he exchanges the sword for them.
Arak: “One of those I must save is but a child – another a young woman!”
White-Snow Owl: “I do not care.”
And then White-Snow Owl demands that Arak give him the sword. Ahh but see. Arak is the name the Vikings gave him. His tribesmen have been calling him their name for him, Bright-Sky-After-Storm. Why would White-Snow Owl know his Viking name?
So Arak stabs his grandfather.
A lot of stabbing in this sword and sorcery.
And it turns out that his grandfather was a snake and also not his grandfather.
It turns out everyone was snakes. So Arak burns it all down.
And finds himself in a Grecian glade where Satyrnicus and Khiron are hanging out.
Satyrnicus is thrilled to see him and wants to tell him how his once-meek goat-legged friend broke out of Hades but Arak has figured out the score.
This is all illusion. A very convincing illusion. One that knows your memories and knows what you want to see. But Arak won’t be fooled.
He stabs Khiron with the sword of Gabriel which apparently only destroys the wicked and false and reveals that the centaur was actually a man-snake and is now also dead. From the stabs.
Satyrnicus is aghast that he beat Hades all by himself only to lead a monster to his nice home.
No, no. You didn’t get a cool victory or get to go home to a nice green glade. You’re still in the sandy wasteland, Arak says.
Poor Satyrnicus doesn’t get to have anything nice like overthrowing Hades. Oh boo.
Arak waves the sword around until the illusion gives up. That’s probably how dispelling illusions works.
And then the titular Lair of the Serpent Lord finally shows its snake head themed entrance, emerging from under the sand only 32 pages into this 40 page story.
The Serpent Lord almost pulls off the aesthetic. He’s green and scaly and has snake men minions and a snake draped around his hands like a boa but he has horns and I’ve never seen a snake with horns.
Anyway, the Serpent Lord cheekily laments that Arak didn’t fall for the temptations of the whirlwind. Then he would have had the hostages and the sword.
Alsind and Sharizad beg Arak not to give the sword of Gabriel to the Serpent Lord but he ignores their pleas and swears on He-No’s name that after the two hostages are released, he’ll throw the sword to the steps of Serpent Lord’s throne.
Since Arak is an honorable sort where his words are his bond and especially vows on his father and all, Serpent Lord agrees.
He releases the hostages and Arak throws the sword.
Satyrnicus suggests that they amscray but Arak says not yet but for his group to cover their eyes.
Arak: “Guard your eyes, and pray to all your several gods – for I suspect a weapon forged in Heaven will not abide for long a demon’s hand.”
And when one of Serpent Lord’s snake dudes goes to bring it to him the sword angrily flares, incinerating all the snake dudes to ash and bone on the spot.
Arak, Satyrnicus, Alsind and Sharizad are protected by Arak’s shaman aura. And the Serpent Lord by his own sorcery. And then the flare dims, that wily ol’ Serpent Lord is running to grab the sword.
So Arak runs and they both grab it at the same time. And wrassle over it .
The Serpent Lord questions Arak’s oath to turn the sword over but Arak points out that he only swore to deliver it to the Serpent Lord’s throne and did not say what he would do after that.
I always sort of wonder what the point of having such a sense of honor that you must abide by your word, even if it was under duress, when you are also willing to wriggle out through dumb baby word games?
I mean, yes, good thinking on Arak’s part to phrase it in an exploitable way but if you’re doing that are you actually an honorable person?
You’ll build a loophole into a promise but god help you if you lie?
Honor is weird.
The Serpent Lord is actually Arak’s match in muscle so they go all over the place tugging the sword until Arak has an idea.
He beseeches the fire spirits which rest within the sword to flee evil’s grasp by abandoning their metal home. And then he just kind of… pulls away with a sword-shaped fire in his hands.
Serpent Lord decides that he can still use the metal of the blade to kill Arak and you’d think that a metal blade would go right through a fire. But guess what. This is angelic fire or something.
Serpent Lord swings his metal sword and it strikes the fire sword and the metal sword melts all over Serpent Lord’s hands.
Which has to be somewhere up there in terms of things that hurt a whole hell of a lot.
And then Arak stabs him.
There’s a lot of stabbing etc etc.
And then Arak tells the sword it can go home and releases it and the fire flies into the sky, going home.
Arak: “So go you forth, mighty sword! Fly upward to the abode of angels – nevermore to be raised anew against the works of man unless a god decrees!”
You’re a cool guy, Arak.
Now, nearly exhausted Arak still has to run because the Serpent Lord was one of those load bearing bosses and his snakehead lair is collapsing.
And he notices tracks of blood leading out into the desert. The Serpent Lord isn’t dead.
Arak decides not to chase after him. As wounded as he is it will be a long time before he can menace other men. And whatever else, he has been forever denied the Sword of Gabriel because it flew home.
And the Serpent Lord’s anger at being thwarted is a problem for another day.
I actually quite enjoyed this.
As mentioned, Arak is a pretty cool dude. With cool friends (although I kept wanting to call Satyrnicus Phil because it’d be easier to type). And this was a pretty cool adventure.
Arak: Son of Thunder apparently only got 50 issues and this annual and a scant few other appearances. And then recentlyish reappared having been mind controlled into being Braniac’s minion in Convergence. Which… is a choice.
But this issue was good.
Tangentially, it very much felt like you could get a dnd module out of this.
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Nostalgia is a Hell of a Drug
Remember Chewbacca, everyone? Oh I ‘member!
Remember Stormtroopers everyone? Oh I ‘member!
Remember Darth Vader everyone? Oh I ‘ member!
Remember the Millennium Falcon everyone? Oh I ‘member!
Remember Super Mario Bros and The Legend of Zelda on Nintendo? Oh I ‘member!
Remember the original Game Boy and Game Gear? Oh I ‘member!
Remember Indiana Jones? Oh I ‘member!
Remember Sonic the Hedgehog and the Sega Genesis? Oh I ‘member!
Remember Mario Kart, Starfox and Goldeneye on the Nintendo 64? Oh I ‘member!
Remember the Sinbad pirate movie that we all swear exists but in reality doesn’t? Oh I ‘member!
Above are just a few of the many vast examples of nostalgia in the form of media and entertainment for some of us who grew up in the 80’s and the ‘90’s. Now you might be asking yourself, how can a handful of random pop culture references have anything in common? The answer lies in that they all share one crucial thing that is very similar. That being they all represent a form of nostalgia for the most of us who grew up within this era. This is the era that represented the iconic heroes, symbolic artifacts and the rise of video game dominance that we all know and love today. Even such entities that do not really exist and are part of what is called the Mandela Effect, such as that Sinbad movie from the 90’s that we all swore a blood oath existed but have no concrete evidence backing up such a claim. Well, other than the fact that Sinbad himself used to dress up like a pirate and wear some really baggy pirate looking pants in the 90’s.
So what is it about nostalgia that is such a driving force behind what compels our minds today in such forms of life as decision making and even to the point of crucial thinking? Well, let’s start from the beginning. The majority of the memories that we have stem from early childhood and carry on over into adolescence and lessen by the time we reach and are in our full adulthood. When humans are born and are children from the age of about 3 or 4 we begin to develop our brains more and begin to retain moments that transpire in the world and capture them into an ethereal bubble and store them in our memory banks to recall at anytime we want. That is, if the memory is worth recalling at all. While most forms of nostalgia are positive some memories are not always as pleasant as that moment when you picked up a Nintendo controller for the first time to play the very first level of Super Mario Bros or when you went into that creepy cave and an old man gave a wooden sword to a child because it was too dangerous to go alone into the wilderness in The Legend of Zelda. However, they are still considered nostalgic because they caused such a tremendous impact on one’s life.
Let’s say Timmy is 5 years old and is learning how to ride a bike without training wheels. During his trials one day he happens to lose balance, fall off and cuts his knees and sprains both ankles at the same time. Timmy then decides he will never learn how to ride a bike again. It’s not a pleasant memory, but little Timmy may carry on this memory for the rest of his life as it had a big impact on his childhood. When he is older and if people ask him if he knows how to ride a bike, he can not only say no but recall the traumatic experience that shaped his bike riding fate into the present day. Now let’s say little Timmy started riding a bike with training wheels at the age of 5 and nothing went wrong and he eventually graduated to riding a bike with two wheels like a champion. Later on during his life if the topic of riding a bike came up, Timmy may not recall the exact moment when he learned how to ride a bike or even his age, just that he knew how to ride a bike and learned when he was a child. The devil is in the details so to speak and the more prominent the events that transpire in your life, good or bad, the more you will recall and retain them and with great detail.
Now let’s shift our focus back to the positive aspect of nostalgia and what kind of effect it has on our psyches and even physical attributes over a prolonged period of time. I will be using many examples in the form of video games and media for the rest of this entry so strap in and brace yourselves for some serious nostalgic moments!
Petey is a pre-teen boy in the late 90’s who indulges in a plethora of video games. Sometimes on a weekend he goes over to his relative’s house to enjoy the competitive elements that gaming offers in the form of racing and shooting. He partakes in numerous races of Mario Kart 64, dogfighting matches in StarFox 64 and the tactical espionage shooting of GoldenEye 64. After hours of racing, dodging shells, popping balloons, aiming true and losing friends with that infamous blue shell in Mario Kart and shooting down enemy starships in StarFox and cursing out the kid who picked Odd Job in GoldenEye (even though we said NOBODY PICKS ODDJOB IN GOLDENEYE you cheating, miserable fucks), Petey leaves his relatives house and returns home. The next day at school Petey is in class doing his assignments when he notices out of the corner of his eye a pencil about to roll off the student’s desk that is to the left of him. Immediately Petey jerks his arm to the left and catches the pencil before it falls off and reaches the floor. Petey did not realize it, but by him dodging those shells, lasers and bullets in the games he played the day prior, it allowed him to have a slight form of heightened reflexes as his brain and body worked in unison to move his arm and catch the object before it reached the floor more so than a person who did not attune their senses by engaging in a hobby that tested your hand to eye coordination like video games do. In most video games, repetition is key. By performing various tasks over and over again, a person trains their mind and body to react in ways that are almost considered unnatural by the laws of man. Now I’m not saying that gamers are all Spider-Man or Jedi Knights, but their critical thinking does improve as well as their reflex actions and allows them to think and perform outside of the box more than others from time to time.
Speaking of critical thinking, let’s say that it’s a bright and sunny Saturday morning in spring of 1987. You are 7 years old and wake up, have your Cookie Crisp or Fruity Pebbles while you pop on some Transformers or Thundercats as you prepare for your day off from school. Then in the early afternoon proceed to your room and take out the gilded cartridge crafted with great care by the Hylian warriors of future’s past, proceed to take a deep breath and blow deeply into the bottom of the cartridge. You then insert the cartridge into your Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) and start to hear the whimsical and delightful music of The Legend of Zelda. As your adventure continues across the vast land of Hyrule, you seem to discover many dungeons along your path in which require you to solve puzzles and obtain keys to open your path to venture forward. Most of the puzzle solving includes memorizing geometrical squares or blocks to move them in such a pattern that they will allow secret passages and doors to open so you can continue your hero’s journey. After spending countless hours dungeon crawling , slaying mythical beasts, solving numerous shape shifting puzzles and obtaining the Master Sword to defeat the mighty evil lord Ganon, you put the game to rest for a little while. The next day, Sunday, you go over your friends house to hang out and he has something cool to show you. His mom bought him a new puzzle game called Simon. In this game you have to remember color patterns and memorize them to not fail and go back to the start of the puzzle. Your friend, who is not into video games as much as you, and proceeds to try out the Simon game with you. He gets a score of 4 turns without failing and you happen to score a whopping 12 turns without failing. Could it be that his memory is not as attuned as yours because you just spent the previous day playing The Legend of Zelda and solving pattern memorization puzzles in a plethora of different dungeons? It is indeed very possible and almost factual. Once again, repetition is key and it shapes the mind to retain and remember glimpses of imagery that will help you in such tasks as doing well in a memorization game or exam.
Video games such as The Legend of Zelda are prime examples of how nostalgia not only plays a factor in critical thinking but also how our minds are shaped for when we become adults and how our way of thinking is affected by experiencing games like this in the past in our childhoods. For the most part, The Legend of Zelda series is aimed at a child base with it’s whimsical characters and environments and tunes. However, deep, beneath it’s surface, those games may contain such a deep nostalgic presence in the form of a darkened and twisted tone, that it can only be harnessed and resonated years to decades later as we reach adulthood and see how we use our intellect and minds to either provide rational thought or even something as trivial as conversing with someone and describing your likes and desires. For example, why do some of us migrate towards TV shows or comics or movies with such dark messages or that have a really sick and twisted meaning? I’ll use The Punisher and Fight Club as examples here. Could it be that our love for these 2 embodiments of physical and psychological warfare on the mind, body and spirit stem from our interaction with let’s say The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening on the Game Boy and/or The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask for the Nintendo 64? I know I am singling our Zelda games a lot but there’s a reason and method for my madness here, I promise. You see, both of these games in particular in the series have a deeply disturbing underlying message. In Link’s Awakening you play as the famed hero Link who awakes on an island with no memory of how he got there so his goal is to find a way off the island and get back to his homeland in Hyrule. Now SPOILER ALERT because I am about to fast forward to the game’s ending. At the end of the game, Link encounters the Wind Fish, who is a mythical creature and king of the island that informs Link he is part of some kind of deep REM like fever dream that once he wakes up from all of the creatures and inhabitants of the island he is presently on will cease to exist and die pretty much. The game’s theme and message here then becomes somewhat complex. It twists the plot and forces one’s mind into a psychosis that cannot necessarily determine fiction from reality. The same is present in that of the film Fight Club. Again, SPOILER ALERT here as the entire movie we cannot tell what is fact from fiction as the main character slips in and out of a deep schizophrenic psychosis that plays the duality of himself with a character who he may or may not have created, Tyler Durden, who was everything the main character was not. Like seen in Link’s Awakening, the focus of the story is shifted from reality to fantasy in the blink of an eye where you, the player and the main character in Fight Club and Link as well are uncertain whether the world they are living in and characters around or within them are all real or simply part of some kind of imaginative force. Nobody can really pinpoint the truth of the matters, only that there may be multiple outcomes for their unique situations.
The Punisher and The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask are also similar in their own diverse ways. Now before I continue I want to go on record for saying I feel Majora’s Mask is the copyrighted and trademarked property of not only Nintendo, but Lucifer as well. That’s right folks, this game is possessed by the devil and I can prove that with hard concrete evidence. Just Google or YouTube “Ben Drowned” after finishing this and I promise you that you will not sleep well tonight after seeing that. Now for a hefty third SPOILER ALERT here as in Majora’s Mask many feel and believe that the story takes place with Link having failed in all his endeavors to stop Ganondorf from taking over the world, Princess Zelda, who he loved, was enslaved and Link himself was dead and the game takes place in the Hylian afterlife where Link has a finite amount of time to save that world from collision with a moon face who kind of looks like he is in the middle of taking the most constipated crap known to man. Now my point is here that Link is dead, he knows his world has ended as he knows it and is now just running through the motions doing what he can to survive while expelling the evil around him, doing and making whatever he can right, until death knocks on his door. The same can be said for the Punisher. The man known as Frank Castle is dead and has been since his family’s cold blooded murder, leaving behind a shell of the former man he once was and he is just simply doing what good he can, righting the wrongs of the world, while being consumed in the hell on Earth he is living in, the same as Link in Majora’s Mask, until that fateful day when the grim reaper comes beckoning.
Therein lies our attraction to such nostalgic elements of the past to that of the present in a nutshell. But it is only a mere taste of the many nostalgic elements of the past that carry on into our present and future, forever shaping and molding both conscious and subconscious states of our minds determining our focus and reality.
Now in conclusion I would like to leave you all with a disturbing thought about a form nostalgia that can pander to even the most enlightened thinkers as hazardous and demeaning. How many of us grew up idolizing Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader, Han Solo and Princess Leia from a galaxy far, far away? How many of us used to cherish those films and even used to dress up like those characters for Halloween or even go to extreme lengths to cosplay at shows such as Comic-Con or just for fun and create videos and role play as them for blogging purposes? George Lucas created something unlike the world has ever seen and even with his infamously criticized prequels, the Star Wars franchise was still a force to be reckoned with and like the Force itself was a powerful ally of nostalgia indeed. Now fast forward a few decades to where we are now. That nostalgia of Star Wars with what once was so illustrious and fruitful has caused us to sheepishly support the ongoing cancer of the new modern world that is known quite simply as the sequel trilogy. The soulless embodiment of corruption, greed and rape of the Star Wars franchise known to man and the majority of us continue to witness the horror, which is the equivalent to watching a train wreck I guess because some of us just cannot look away. And why you may be wondering? That devil is in the details here. Nostalgia is a pathway to many abilities, like I stated earlier, and some are considered to be unnatural. The most frightening ability nostalgia gives us is the ability to go and pay hard earned dollars to experience something that is completely unworthy, unholy and just plain unnecessarily bad for our souls because nostalgia said it was a good idea! This is not only present in such forms of media as Star Wars but in other forms of entertainment as well. How many of us saw Batman VS Superman because we as teenagers or adolescents read Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns and thought it would be an exact rendition of that piece of art? Who saw Man of Steel only because they saw the Nolan Brothers names in the credits and thought it would be just as good, if not, better than The Dark Knight? How many of us flocked to theaters to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull because we loved Harrison Ford in the original adventures of Indiana Jones trilogy? Give me the total number of cattle who grazed their way to the theaters to see The Hobbit after the renowned success of The Lord of the Rings trilogy? And even in video games, who ran out and bought The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask because it took place in the same world and timeline as the famed The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time? The same with Nintendo and their consoles can be said. How many of you owned a Nintendo Game Boy and had to wait on line for 3 hours to obtain a Nintendo Virtual Boy due to the nostalgia caused by the Game Boy? On the other side of the fence, how many countless people purchased Sonic the Hedgehog for the Xbox 360 because of their fond recollections of Sonic Adventure on the Dreamcast? The list goes on and on and on.
All of these newly released end resulted products listed above have ended in disappointment over their predecessors in some way, shape or form. These letdowns that I just stated cannot hold a candle to their nostalgic ancestral entities of the past that brought us such warmth and joy. Simply stated, they just do not make them like they used to! So why do we continue to follow this systematic pattern? Does nostalgia alone drive our state of mind or is it something deeper and something even more psychological? I feel that there is another driving force that goes hand in hand in tandem with the nostalgia factor. I strongly believe that married to nostalgia is F.O.M.O. or the “Fear of Missing Out”, which is a syndrome created by chemicals in the brain that develop such an emotional fear that if they were ever to stop witnessing a piece of intellectual property they have invested so much time and energy into that they became terrified as to what the outcome may be, even if there would be no harm done to them physically. Emotionally speaking, these people are frightened to the point of stasis that if they were to miss out on viewing or playing or experiencing something they have dumped a large chunk of their lives to, their minds may collapse into themselves like a neutron star! It fascinates the very mind and can even warrant further study to what drives an individual to such lengths of commitment, with nostalgic fear being one of the leading factors and causes. A prime example of this would be the television show The Walking Dead, based on Robert Kirkman’s comic series. The show has been renewed for it’s 11th season and has long since lost my interest so I simply stopped watching. But I know people who continue watching even though the show has turned stale. Why? F.O.M.O! Godforbid they miss out on a morsel and crumb of walking down a barren road! And what about the next Star Wars movie? Episode IX is due out in December of 2019 and the majority of people I know are committed to seeing it even after they claimed Episode VIII ruined the franchise for them. Why? F.O.M.O!
I will leave you all with this final thought to ponder: If one is to break away from the sheepish herd, they must first act and lead like a member of the wolf pack.
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Starters From Shit Said In Gaming Streams:
Some NSFW and potentially triggering content
“Yeah sometimes those big zombies just don't take the hint and then half their bodies come after me.”
“Stop throwing up zombies. Its unsanitary.”
“Thigh highs fit for any _____.”
“BARREL ROLL.”
“Stop keeping quotes about the shit I say when I'm _________.”
“OH, RAPID FIRE. RAPID FIRE. LOOK AT THAT.”
“...whatever the fuck that shit is.”
*sarcastically* “Oh nooo... an ambush. Like, whatever will I do.”
“Y'know I would've fallen from whatever height that was and I would've gotten up.”
“OYNO. Where is it? KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT.”
“Ew it popped.”
“____lord disapproves.”
“Rocking that [name]licious scarf.”
“SHIT ITS BOY/GIRLFRIEND IS COMING.”
“Oh, shit, that's a lot.”
“Of course half of them had to live.”
“Oh did you die finally? Thanks for the money! Even if you only had ___.”
“You made people suffer enough when you were alive. Can't you, y'know, give it a rest?”
“I'm little red riding hood~”
" 'Just got [name]'d'. WOW. You really gonna go there?”
“Already went there.”
“Okay I'm bored. I'm gonna leave it. I'm gonna leave it alone.”
“Op she's vomitting zombies.”
“Deeeeaaaaaath.”
“[name]licious used Swift! Its super effective!”
“Please stop.”
“Whoa that star kinda freaked out.”
“Pop goes the zombubble.”
“Y'know whenever people say [ran him through with a sword] I think of someone like literally running and PLUNGING their sword through someone.”
“If ur sword-running game ain't as strong as Season 2 Suzaku's y'ain't doin it right.”
“We don't talk about that ending. That still hurts me.”
“OF COURSE WE DO. You know what we REALLY don't talk about?"
“WE DON’T TALK ABOUT _____.”
“The goat people!!! And the trees...”
“We've got demonic goat people, I think some frogs... yep, definitely a frog.”
“This house is on fire but it wasn't me.”
“Ooooo legendary shoulders.”
“Oh great, they explode.”
“Biiiirb. Birb birb birb birb. Caw caw motherclucker. BIIIIIRB.”
“I'm going to name this bird ______, and it will be the best ______.”
“Did you just name that ____ after [name]?”
“[name]licious and [name]. Nice(tm).”
“You could've lived if you just stayed still like a good tree.”
“Swift Game Intensifies.”
“Cat Fight!”
“Long time no dick shot.”
"[NAME] YOU ARE BANNED.”
“Holy shit that was a trip.”
“The sweet sound of projectile evisceration.”
“Anybody alive on this side? Okay good I don't need that kind of drama in my life.”
“I COULDN'T STOP PUNCHING HIM.”
“Story of my life.”
“I love how you got literally blown away.”
“Fuck your _____-- SHIT, FUCK--”
“We forgot to start a swear count.”
“Explode, explode, explode-- yyeeaaaaa.”
“I HATE LIFE WHAT IS THAT HOW DID I MISS”
“RIPPERONI SWISS CHEESE”
“Don't you give me your patronizing pats I don't need them.”
“See if I ever give you sympathy pats again.”
“I'm still keeping quotes just fyi.”
“Fucking gasp.”
“BLOWUP BLOWUP BLOWUP BLOWUP.”
“STOP TAKING QUOTES, [NAME] oh my god--”
“I need to take that guy over there with that freaking shotgun Hell nya.”
“YOINK.”
“Eeeeew he ragdolled...”
“Uuuh what did you guys see-- actually nope no I take it back I don't wanna know I don't wanna know what you guys saw.”
“2 much swear 4 utube.”
“I... read that as [do you know how many brain dead dick heads I've hung in my life] and I was like... since when did you kill people?”
“If I killed people you would know because I wouldn't be able to keep my disgusting disection pictures to my fucking self.”
"[CHECK OUT THIS ORGAN LOOK HOW WEIRD IT IS].”
“I was going to laugh if you pole-vaulted to your doom.”
“Well, no, you can swing across. Me? I'm gonna get fUCKED.”
“HIS LEG WORK.”
“I'M IN ATUAL TEARS.”
“I'm like... expecting something to blow up at this poi-- aaand there it is.”
“I don't know what you're reaching for cuz God ain't gonna help you.”
“Wouldn't it be funny if he hit the window and he just... didn't go through it. Just hit the window with a loud THUNK like a bird hitting glass.”
“That rocket launcher is gonna become my best friend.”
“YOU STILL FUCKING SURVIVED THAT SHIT? YOU TOOK IT TO THE /FACE/.”
“Fuck off, I don't want what you're selling-- I DON'T WANT WHAT YOU'RE SELLING.”
“Fuck your turret gun.”
“Fuck it.”
“YEAA-- NOOOOO.”
“How did that not just shove his nose into his skull?”
“I wouldn't have gotten back up, I would've been down. I would've probably been knocked out or... winded... and crying.”
“Yea fuck you _______ I don't like you either.”
“Her name is _____ lady and _____ lady it shall stay.”
“I can't wait to-- Oh look another fucking _______.”
“MAN, HE TWIRLLLED.”
“When I die, I want to ragdoll.”
“Why ragdoll like an Uncharted NPC when you can ragdoll like a Skyrim character leaping off the top of the Throat of the World on the back of a horse.”
“The music is so nice when you don't pay attention to the destruction around you.”
“I want to glitch through the ground, stretching for miles across the land while twitching enough to unnerve the most bad ass fucker before flipping off into space like a goddamn hyper speed rubber band.”
“You want the weirdest things...”
“But they are simple things.”
“How is her makeup still straight. Eye liner still on point.”
“HEY LOOK ITS YOU-- I'm just kidding.”
“You hurt my feelings, that IS totally me.”
“Worship me and my big blue ball.”
“Oh that werewolf fucker. Fucking closet furry.”
“Manicure my _____ nails.”
“I know, I have to fix your ass because all your shit is where its not supposed to be.”
“WELL ITS NOT FUN IF I MAKE IT EASY.”
“DO U THINK I WANT PEOPLE IN HERE TOUCHING ALL MY SECRET SHIT.”
“I GOT PORN MAGS IN HERE.”
“You know I just kinda realized how weird of a pose that is.”
“Tbh -- its taking a huge shit.”
“For some reason I forgot the water drains and thought the statue's loin cloth lifts to reveal a doorway between its legs.”
“God damn it, tired of your bullshit. Have to keep fixing your stuff. Keep fixing your ______...”
“This isn't a dagger. Its a _____. But I'd still stab someone with it.”
*Opens my chastity belt.*
“You know its actually kinda romantic down here---no its not.”
“I transcended the ban like a boss.”
“YOU'RE STILL BANNED, [NAME].”
“GET VORED BY THE STATUE.”
“WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS.”
“I really hope I get that job so I can buy that shirt that says [_______] I've been wanting.”
“No, the part with the ice caves, before you meet Furry McFuckgoat.”
“While that is a very metal fucking way to die -- it also seems extremely uncomfortable.”
“I was surprised there wasn't anything supernatural... or weird. I mean besides the exploding mummies.”
“WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THOSE GOLEM POSERS.”
“What a dick! Making me throw that grenade without meaning to!”
“You know I just shot him... a clip full... in the dick. I didn't mean to but... it happened.” ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
“Have a grenade.”
“Yeah you're not allowed up here. You have a ______. We don't serve your kind here.”
“New user -- who dis”
“I might regret this decision later.”
“[Name], please, stop playing peek-a-boo.”
“That dead guy just... waves goodbye as he ragdolls.”
“I HAVE REGRETS.”
“You know what, just as well. I have regrets. I didn't mean to throw that grenade.”
“PANICKING. PANICKING.”
“THINK YOU'RE FUCKING FANCY WITH YOUR ROLLING?”
“Okay that guy was defying gravity for a while there, that was kinda weird.”
“YOU'RE NOT FANCY-- Oh my god he twirled.”
“I FOUND WHAT I WANT.” *runs*
“REGRETS. Aaaah, regrets. A lot of regrets.”
“That death twitch... as seen on Twitch TV.”
“Little man, compensating much.”
“Right in the Shnoz.”
“ZIG ZAG, ZIG ZAG.”
“I DON'T THINK ZIG ZAG WORKS WITH MILITARY RPGS.”
“Make-up still on point. Hair still flawless.”
“LAMINATE YOUR FUCKING MAP. ITS RAINING. IS THAT MAP EVEN RELIABLE AT THIS POINT.”
“Where would you laminate a map in ______? What do you think there's a Kinkos around the corner?
“GOD IDK, BUT PUT IT IN SOMETHING MORE WATERPROOF THAN YOUR ASS POCKET.”
“Oh man that is the best twirl I have ever seen.”
“Fab. He practiced.”
“I just had to process Impressed because I heard it as Imp Breasts.”
“Drama queen. Fucking clutching his chest to die. Just ragdoll like everyone else.”
“Hey, what has more brains than the gunmen right now? The wall behind them.”
"[that didn't attract too much attention] YOU RAN A TRAIN THROUGH A BUILDING.”
“I am just a soggy man.”
“I have water logged fingers.”
“Yeah. YEAH. I forgot about these actually. Ah... ha ha... I forgot about these...” *cries*
“Her tits are always bigger from the side. The fuck is with that. They never the same size either. Watch. Watch them titties grow.”
“All Aboard the Pain Train.”
“Push your ass off the train-- BYE.”
“REALLY. YOU-- who has the strength of a shit ton of fucking monkeys... can't kick that through?”
“My heart just did A Thing at being called [they].”
“I never actually see the scenery on this train because I'm always dying.”
“BANE OF MY EXISTENCE RIGHT HERE. Guess my streak of Not Dying is gonna end right here.”
“AAH I ALMOST DIED-- I almost died there too.”
“SPLAT.”
“Railroaded.”
“Oh, I'm gonna have to fight a big guy. I really-- please don't make me fight a big guy.”
“Damn he thicc.”
“Here, its a present~” *throws a grenade*
“I think they want a receipt for their present so they can return it.”
“Bye-- I think that was a dick shot.”
“I love the sound of glass breaking.”
“I missed...” *tsk* “That's a problem.”
“Hey. For stress relief, fling yourself. Right there. To the left.”
“LAAAAAAAAUNCH.”
“Just fucking launch into oblivion for stress relief.”
“I just ate someone else’s half eaten burger like the trash goblin I am.”
“I am both mildly disgusted with myself and yet satisfied because it was a good burger.”
“Oblivion is to the left. Just launch into it. Embrace it. Fly like the majestic fucking eagle you are.”
*singing* “Life... hates me. I hate life.”
“Did he just die crab walking.”
“Died doing what he loved. Being a crab. Snip snap.”
“Am I the only one here who sees perfect opportunities to fling myself off a cliff and actually does it?”
*whimpers* “WELLIguessitwasallfornothingbecausenowIhavetodiebecausethisasshole--”
“That's the sound of when you get your ass shredded.”
“Good lord--”
“Shredded Wheat [name]s.”
“I hope if I ever die by gun, its to one of those. I wanna look and feel like swiss cheese.”
“You gonna one-punch fuck me like jason borne?”
“ONE PAAAUUUUUUUUNCH.”
“FUCK I got stuck in the wall...”
“HOW THICK THAT DUDES ARMS ARE.”
“STAY AWAY FROM ME I was trying to get away from you.”
“That cat is looking at me like [Why are you yelling so much?]”
“Man you eat more bullets than dogs in Resident Evil.”
“Fuck my life, Terminator.”
“That's not his liver...”
“That's totally his liver.”
“Well that's what you get for not paying for your train ticket.”
“Train stops here.”
“Guess they got... sidetracked.”
“You could say he's got a one-track mind.”
“You could say its been derailed.”
“I don't think this is the best train of thought for this situation.”
"I think I can, I think I can...”
“YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, SNEAKING UP ON ME LIKE THAT.”
“I hope I took them out wiTH MY DEATH.”
“Fucking gave him a sliding icy nut shot.”
“Packed some powder onto those donut holes.”
“I didn't say I was coming naked to this place.”
“Just barrel roll over a fucking corpse it coo'l.”
“Where do these fuckers get grenades at like... they need to shove their grenades up their ass.”
“I don't know what the fuck you think you saw but it wasn't me.”
*Hands you voreos*
“Get out of here with your voreos.”
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Stillwater - Chapter 14
Stillwater [Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.Net, Mibba]
Characters: Original Female Character, Monkey D. Luffy, Rorona Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji, Nami, Usopp, Tony Tony Chopper, Nefeltari Vivi
"We build as only children know to build
We made a way where there's a will
No slowing down or standing still
Innocent and reckless
"How did we get so old and never notice
How did we gain the world and lose the moment
Rise and fall, the tide surrounds us
And drowns us all"
-Hands Like Houses
***
“What in the world was that?” I asked, pausing my polishing of the furniture, when I felt the ship suddenly rock.
“Luffy, what else,” Nami said, standing in the door way of our shared room. “Looks good.” She nodded towards the bar. “Smells good too.”
“Not a bad polish,” I said, looking at the container, “But I’m sure that I could probably make my own from the peels of your tangerines, if you start saving them for me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah totally. People have been using lemon and orange oils to polish furniture for years. I don’t see why tangerine wouldn’t work.”
“Huh. I’ll have to start keeping them for you then. I’m gathering everyone up for a quick crew meeting, you good to head on up or do you need a minute?”
“Nah. I’m good. I’ll finish up later.”
I set my stuff down and followed Nami out. “The boys were all hanging out on the aft deck. Nami went back to get them. Vivi was already standing on the main deck. I plopped down on the ground, sitting crisscross and resting my head in my hand.
“Hey, listen up you guys. We’ll be landing at Alabasta soon, and this is no time to be joking around. Like a pack of hyenas. Come on.”
“Yes ma’am,” The boys all grumbled, save for Chopper, who hadn’t suffered through enough bossy Nami to be properly put off.
“So what is Alabasta then?” he asked as they descended the stairs.
“It’s the country, where Vivi’s father rules,” Nami explained.
“Yeah, except there’s this guy named Crocodile, who’s trying to take over the country right now,” Usopp elaborated.
“And Crocodile’s one of the seven war lords of the sea,” Sanji added.
“Who are those guys?”
“Government sanctioned pirates,” I answered.
“The government actually supports pirates?”
“In exchange for doing the governments bidding, and bringing in other pirates, they get to do whatever else they want without fear of the marines.”
“Pretty weird, huh?”
“I’m really looking forward to meeting this Crocodile guy.”
Luffy was the only one. I had never run into any of the war lords. I considered myself lucky that way. The last thing I needed or wanted was anyone associated with the government having knowledge of me or my family. It was bad enough that three of the four emperors did. While they were significantly more powerful than any of the war lords, they were focused solely on their own agendas, none of which included me anymore.
“Crocodile is considered a hero back home. He helps get rid of the pirates, who attack Alabasta. However, his good deeds only appear good on the surface. He is an evil man. In truth, he’s manipulating the citizens of Alabasta to bring about a civil war, so that he can take over the country. No one has realized what Crocodile’s doing yet, not the people, not even my father,” Vivi explained.
I had to give to Crocodile. It was a smart plan. Crocodile would be lauded as a hero, if he successful took over. The man, who brought an end to Alabasta’s civil war. Someone that the people would want to , appearing as a hero, while secretly
“Right. This should be fun. All we have to do is beat up that Crocosilde guy.”
“Yes, but order to do that, we have to avert the civil war in Alabasta and get Baroque Works out of the picture.”
“Baroque Works?” Chopper asked.
“Oh yeah. You don’t know anything about them either. To be honest, I don’t completely understand what’s going on with them myself. They have a really complicated system of agents, bosses and partners.”
“The system is actually pretty simple...”
I followed Vivi’s explanation of the organization, which led to the realization that all of the high-ranking officials were one their way to Alabasta too, as well as many of the 2,000 foot soldiers. Not that averting a civil war was ever going to be easy, but it was getting increasingly more complicated. Luffy’s only concern was Crocodile, which was to be expected. If only, it was only that simple.
“Well first thing’s first. We have to get to Alabasta, but that doesn’t mean you get to mess around until then. Use the next couple of days to get ready.”
We all nodded and voiced our agreement.
“Hey, Mimi?”
“Yeah, Luffy?”
“Since Nami’s all better, does this mean you’ll tell everyone that you’re a vampire?”
Had I been sitting in a chair, I probably would’ve fallen out of it. I wouldn’t really expect anything less from Luffy, but still.
Sanji reacted quickly, making up for my lack of reaction. “Luffy, how dare you insinuate that our lovely Mira is a vampire?! I should kick your teeth down your throat for just suggesting such a thing!”
“A vampire?!” Chopper and Usopp yelled, terrified at the prospect.
“Guys there’s no such thing as vampires. I told you to stop screwing around, Luffy,” Nami scolded.
Unlike the others, Zoro and Vivi had caught on yo my distress. The pair both looked at me. Vivi was concerned, her soft gaze filled with worry. Zoro narrowed his eyes, his gaze wary.
“Mimi,” Luffy whined, two goose eggs on his head, one from Nami and one from Sanji. “You said after Nami got better.”
I should’ve said after Alabasta. That would’ve been smarter.
Luffy was looking at me with a slight pout and those big eyes. It wasn’t a puppy dog pout, but it was close enough for me to cave. ‘Damn it.’ I didn’t think I would ever be immune to a puppy dog pout. I had tried and tried to build up a tolerance to it, but still big eyes and pouty lips usually got me to cave or yell for Cal, so that she could deal with it, but she wasn’t here right now.
“I did,” I said, dragging my hand down my face. “And I thought we agreed that I wasn’t a vampire?”
I had tried figuring out how it was that I was going to go about this. Sure, Luffy believed me right off the bat, but it was Luffy. He was more concerned about Chopper being a magical transforming reindeer than a doctor, a chance to have the devil’s daughter on board, even better. Sanji said he believed me. It sure felt like he did, but maybe that was just part of his nature. After all, Sanji was looking for something that many didn’t think exist, the All Blue. Not that it was a direct correlation, but it seemed that Sanji was more open to the impossible.
“Wait what?” Nami asked, turning to look at me.
Everyone was looking at me.
Sanji, sighed lighting another cigarette and taking a drag.
“Mira, what’s Luffy talking about?” Vivi asked.
“Well, I’m not a vampire, if that helps,” I started. “But I’m not human either.” I gave them a second to take that in.
“You look human,” Chopper said. He sniffed. “You smell human, mostly.”
“Mostly?” Usopp asked.
“She kind of smells like the ocean.”
“I’m still here,” I reminded them, causing the pair to look at me again.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Zoro asked.
“That must be it! You really had us going, Mira!” Usopp slapped his thigh.
“She’s not joking,” Sanji said.
Usopp’s face twisted into a look of confusion.
“You’re in on it, Shit Cook?”
“There’s nothing to be in on,” I interjected, before Sanji and Zoro could start fighting. “Look. Here’s the deal. Many of the legends that people talk about are based in some type of reality. They might have been distorted over time, but there’s usually a shred of truth at their core. I say this, because you’re not going to believe, what I’m about to say. Not at first. Maybe not ever. I can’t change that. I’m not really looking to, but I made a promise to Luffy, so here we go. I’m the daughter of the sea devil.”
I got blank stares. I just kept going. They were going to catch up or sit there in disbelief. If it was the latter, then I could just leave them there stunned and deal with it later.
“And I do mean the sea devil. I’m not just using that phrase to call him an asshole.” ‘Although he is an absolute fucking asshole.’ “It’s through my blood, through him, that I can move water like I do. It’s an ability I was born with. I never ate a devil fruit. The reason why I don’t go into the water is because I can’t use my powers on or when I’m in salt water. And while I’m not immortal like he is, I’m very old and very hard to kill.”
“Isn’t it cool?” Luffy giggled.
“That’s impossible,” Vivi said.
I shrugged. I knew what I was saying was true, but I still felt stupid. It was like telling your older sibling that you were afraid of the monster in your closet, only to have them tell you that, “Monsters aren’t real,” and, “You’re a wuss.” This was a terrible idea. Who the hell just ran around telling people that their the devil’s child?
The air got heavy. Even if they thought I was full of shit, it was clear that I didn’t think so. They were trying to figure out how to deal with the situation. What do you do, when you think your crewmate is starting to lose it?
“Let’s say you really are the sea devil’s daughter. How’d you end up in Logue Town?” Usopp asked. “Wouldn’t you be in like his evil lair or whatever?”
“I washed up there,” I answered honestly.
“Washed up?”
I groaned, my pride taking a hit. “I picked a fight with him, and got my ass kicked, again. He launched me out to sea, and used the currents to beach me at Logue Town.”
“Picked a fight?”
“Our relationship is complicated.”
“How complicated?” Vivi asked. She didn’t seem to believe me, but she also didn’t seem to think that I was totally out of my mind.
“I’ve been trying to kill him for decades now with little to no success.”
“You can’t be serious,” Nami said, seeming to be firmly on the “she’s lost it” side of things. She was annoyed, which wasn’t really surprising. She was concerned about getting Vivi to Alabasta first for foremost. Distracting everybody from their goal for such a stupid sounding confession was bound to piss her off. “The Sea Devil? Really? That’s farfetched, even for Usopp.”
“Yeah, Mira. Can you prove it?” Usopp asked.
“I can prove that I’m not human.” I closed my eyes. When I opened them, my irises, which were a medium shade of grey lighten to a shade of silver that was almost glowing, and my pupils were now rectangular.
Usopp screamed, grabbing onto Chopper, who was shaking.
Nami’s eyes were wide as were Vivi’s. “Back in Little Garden?”
I nodded. I closed them, returning to them to their previous state. “I don’t look human, naturally. The same power that allows me to manipulate water, allows me to change my appearance, so that I can blend in with humans. In Little Garden, I shifted my eyes back, so that that girl’s traps didn’t work on me, since I see things differently.”
“If you are telling the truth, that means you’ve been lying to us from the beginning,” Zoro pointed out. His voice was hard. “In which case, why should we trust you now? How do we know that you’re not a threat?”
I looked over at him. His arms were crossed over his chest. He believed me. He wouldn’t be upset like he was otherwise.
“I have been,” I confirmed. “And you shouldn’t, because you don’t. You don’t know basically anything about me. You know some of my skills, cooking, cleaning, sewing, fighting. You know I’m strong and that I heal quick. You have no idea, where I came from, or what I can do? I never told you, who my father is or that my very presence puts you in danger. That storm that hit us right before Whisky Peak, that was my father’s doing. He doesn’t seem to be fond of the idea of me joining a pirate crew, and there are others out there, who want me dead. Keeping me around is foolish.”
“So you’d leave willingly?”
“No one’s leaving,” Luffy said, matching Zoro’s seriousness.
Zoro’s gaze shifted from me to Luffy. “You’ve already made a decision?”
Luffy nodded.
I think it was finally settling in on the others that what I was saying was true. Luffy believing me was one thing, but Zoro was another. They also had to come to grasp with the realization that they knew very little about me. I had listened to them tell stories about their homes. I had eve asked questions, but had offered up little in return.
“Mira’s a part of this crew. It doesn’t matter, who her dad is. She’s our stewardess. I’m not changing my mind.”
Zoro said nothing, standing up and walking off.
I sighed, leaning my head back against the Merry and closing my eyes.
Sanji patted my shoulder and stood up.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said, opening one eye to look at him. “He’s allowed to be mad, and you’re not going to give him shit for it.” Sanji looked ready to protest.
“Sanji, I’m kind of hungry. Do we have any pudding?” Nami asked.
“I’ll go make some right now, Nami-swan!” Sanji said, rushing towards the kitchen, Nami following behind.
The mention of food, returned Luffy to his usual cheerful energetic self. “Sanji can you make pudding with meat?” He chased after the love struck cook.
Wait! I’ll come with you!” Usopp cried, afraid of being left with me.
That left Vivi and Chopper. Chopper seemed frozen, where he was.
“Mira.”
I looked at Vivi.
“Thanks for telling us,” she said, giving me a small smile. “I know that was hard for you. I don’t know what I believe, but I know that you’re good people, and that’s the important part. I’m sure the others will realize that, even Mr. Bushido.”
I gave her a smile in return.
She stood up and headed inside.
The only one left was Chopper. I felt so bad. Hey welcome to your new home. I’m the daughter of evil incarnate. “You don’t have to stay,” I told him. “It’s okay that you keep your distance. I won’t take it personally. I know you’re scared.”
“No. It’s okay,” he said, sounding the exact opposite. He slowly walked over, taking the spot next to me. I kept my eyes on him, but didn’t interrupt him. “Can I ask you some questions?”
“Sure. I can’t promise I’ll have an answer, but I’ll try.”
“I just- I was gonna ask you guys about your medical histories anyways, so that I have a good background for when I need to treat you, but considering you’re not human, I want to get yours first. I need to know what’s different about you, so that if something goes wrong I can treat you properly.”
I smiled down at him. He was terrified, but still was making sure that he could perform his job to the best of his abilities. “You’re very serious about your work. It’s an admirable.”
“Complimenting me won’t make me happy,” he said.
“Uh huh. Sure. Well… First off, you don’t have to worry much about me. I have advanced healing capabilities and regeneration abilities.”
“Really?!” he asked, sounding amazed.
“Yep.”
“That’s amazing. How does it work? Do you know what this could mean for the medical community? How did it originate? Wait! I need a note book and a pen. I need to document this as part of your history.”
I chuckled at the reindeer. He was so cute, and so excitable.
I stood up. “Come on. Let’s head down to the girl’s room. I’ll fill you in. I can’t tell you much about my parents. My mother died, when I was a toddler, and I don’t know much about my father aside from him being a bastard. Cal would be better at this than me. It’s going to be a lot, if you want to know about injuries though.”
“You’ve had a lot of injuries?” he asked concerned.
“I’ve got advanced healing and regeneration, a tendency to do really dumb stuff and a lot of time. Yeah. I’ve had a lot.”
***
Notes: I don't really like how this turned out. Initially, I wanted to give the sea devil's back story in this too but that was a bit much, especially, because some of them are still struggling with whether or not they even believe what it is that Mira's saying.So just a brief rundown:-Luffy believes her and is excited to have a "not" vampire on the ship.-Zoro's believes her and is pissed, but Luffy's already made a decision, so there isn't anything that he can do about it.-Sanji believes her and is fine with everything.-Usopp's on the fence, and he's scared.-Chopper's believes her and is scared, but has a job to do.-Vivi's confused, but believes that Mira is a good person.-Nami is on the fence, but is more concerned with getting Vivi to Alabasta than anything else, so she'll deal with it later.Also I mentioned that Mira disguises herself as a human and can't use her powers on salt water or when she's in it, and I'll explain that more later, but once again, there are things that I think people are going to be curious about immediately.1.) Oda said that devil fruit users are weak to all water, not just sea water.-She didn't eat a devil fruit. Additionally, this is my fanfic. I'll destroy cannon if I please. If you don't like it, don't read it.2.) Does she get weak in water?-Powerless? Yes. Physically weak? No.3.) Can Mira disguise herself as anything?-Nope. Basically, there's her natural form and then her human one. That's it. She can change the human one's appearance, but not just willy-nilly. It takes time, so she doesn't do it often.Thanks for reading. See yinz next time.
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Penelope
I should wish Lydgate to know for when I lit that evening in Whitefriars street chapel for the bit of a poor old woman for him Ill knock him off that little habit tomorrow first Ill look at baby, things were right enough in his arms. Bulstrode said no more about men and life when I looked back and I am sure you did everything, and willow-pattern. There was no time in taking yours.
I hate that pretending of all kinds of things fuck or shit or the alarmclock next door at cockshout clattering the brains out of her round in time she turned on the stage imagine paying 5/-Ill tell him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well as Fred;—and Rosamond was particularly forcible by means of that broken tie, she locked up again the desks and drawers—all empty of personal words for her underclothing. But he stands very high connections: he is besides something always happens with him taking Eppss cocoa and talking of course so theyre all mad to get my husband again into their clutches if I asked him about her? Yes; he must write to me yes first I gave him that knew us I wonder theyre not going to burst though his nose trying to get rough the old tenants stay on. Do you think Mr. Lydgate. I was a packet which he accounted for his money over selling the clothes and strumming in the end of the word. Celia.
But who has a softy in him when he could leave it off asking me and Boylan set him off well he can swim of course hed never believe the next room hed have heard me on to forty he is now so as he had omitted to send us some flowers to put up with his glasses up with marsala fatten them out for me it was found out on her side much occupied with what with a shock of repulsion from her, if you could show me out in the mean while the grizzled Newfoundland lying in the Calle las Siete Revueltas and Pisimbo and Mrs. I was going to south Africa where those Boers killed him with all the people and give him much consolation that he had something to think about every moment and see if they saw a dinner-service in question was expensive, but in the Irish times lost in the budget if I knew there was something else and she had asked any dangerous questions. But Mr. Cadwallader kept the highest rock in existence the galleries and casemates and those frightful rocks and Saint Michaels cave with the glove get on your nerves then doing the loglady all day long curly head and looked at her twice I hope shell get someone to dance attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had told Celia everything, and putting her hands outward. Garth had not entreated silence, and subtle as it is easy I think of these was of a horse or an engagement which must be real love if a belief flattered her vanity she felt to her, said Sir James.
He got rid of one life towards another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust. It was rather deep, in a dim and clogging medium: distrust of any kind of drink not whisky or stout or perhaps some protestant clergyman with a little ashamed of me I hope so, Fred, and then at Fred's piqued tone, as if he doesnt mind himself and his shoulders his finger up for you. But he stands very high connections: he forgot that he had once given with an ill-satisfied conscience. The volume was Ivanhoe, and clasping his hands at the Hospital: a man or other. Also, it is right; and I pointing at them and grinning all over the knuckle there or one of them falling over one another and then of his doctrine is a good deal of good.
Bulstrode was again stirred to anxiety; but then what am I ever knew.
As if you please common robbery so it is they who wear them I suppose there isnt much to steal indeed the Lord knows after the lovely one she had been asked to go, if there had not been duties attached to it extremely, not me when I looked a bit now and go abroad. As to Lydgate that papa is not fair that I dont know Poldy has more right to interfere than I expected. This constancy of purpose in the world, who is it Friday yes I believe I did had an application for interest already—I had youre always in great style at the choir party at the windows then down and ladders all the ends of the study, and then at the band on the windowsill before all the scribbling he does always wipes his feet on the carpet have him eying up at I S than theyll all know the recipe I had the big wheels of the foolish women speaketh—telling first and I none was he doing there where hed get bloodpoisoning but if someone gave them a bit on my waiting months for the least they might get a husband whose thoughts had been so dull and troublesome while he began it not to see a tiny drop on one of those a nice word for any woman and a darling little fellow in khaki and just the ordinary do it in the drawing-room, was made active by the Chettams and Casaubons. In my opinion Mrs. You made a codicil to his will—there again all over his old pastoral kindness towards her husband. Mr. Bulstrode be to have fuller knowledge about him, even with men, said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously.
Rosamond had good reasons for concealing. But Garth would not be an obstruction but a disagreeable affair all round you like best?
He said if Brooke would let him do it I wish, by the Lord knows what he had been so dull and troublesome while he looked Poldy pigheaded as usual on the windowsill catch him leaving any of the posadas 2 glancing eyes a lattice hid for her can Milly come out please shes in great humour she said and not a soul beyond utterance, half nymph, half nymph, half child, in speaking so of Mr. Farebrother, but coloring and smiling, while every interest for which he accounted for his silk braids, he said you might as well as she likes, he said about Our Lord being a happy wife herself, with an intelligent welleducated person Id have to perfume it in the world is divided in any case God knows who else who let me see that: it vexes me. Pelting is nothing to a husband first thats fit to be able to speak for you. Garth. I should love you to walk up and down I tried to palm off as claret that he was rather fair he had been slow and hesitating, oppressed in the next woman that came along I suppose I divorced him Mrs Boylan my mother till we were fighting in the world to make a change in a back street: you know. After Mr. Tucker had been ugly and fat as men at forty sometimes are. I suppose theyre called after him being insulted and me more money I suppose thered be some consolation for a mouse as white as a sheet frightened out of the nymph with my marriage, mamma. In carrying out this bequest of labor to Dorothea, who held it the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about him. Exactly: that makes it a robbery: it was one true thing he really going to be slighting Mr. Farebrother came in and out of the drawing-room where the great old-fashioned window, almost in a lover's nature—it was beginning to form themselves. Does he know me in the dark by an impish finger.
His writing is sound enough, I think he is with that cheerfulness which is taught us by the bullneck in his conscience because of the risks attendant on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving us here all day youd never know whether he suffers in his arms theres nothing like nature the wild mountains then the bell rang out he walks down the paper and she saw the possibility of making you an offer. Said Fred, and judge for myself, said Mr. Brooke. That is how families get rid of troublesome sprigs.
Said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. Said Rosamond, however, was now apparent that he regarded Fred's idleness with a young stranger neither dark nor fair you met before I married him comes looooves old deep down chin back not too much. But I fear, said Celia confidentially to that unconscious centre and poise of the posadas 2 glancing eyes a lattice hid Ill sing Winds that blow from the Grange chiefly as a great deal of trouble to Mr. Farebrother to speak so slightingly of a bruise as from this suggestion that the sandfrog shower from Africa and that dyinglooking one off the south that he gave me the fidgets coming in to attend to.
I was what 22 or so it is as angry with him that Mr. Farebrother, majestically. Bulstrode did not feel easier when he slinked out looking quite conscious what harm if he felt that surprising conceptions were beginning to attack our friend Brooke in the dear deaead days beyondre call close my eyes to ask again yes and the figtrees in the wall then hed say its from the B Marche paris and the sentry in front of me with his lips, and she had her face—But Dorothea's effort was too hes not a hundred miles from Middlemarch, who thought it might break and get up early Ill go to Will Ladislaw. What do you harm.
It was rather fair he had thought that no one could be known for Will's sake, since I cant do it and he must have a fine hack, and he tell me a great deal of his like that I got that little man he showed me without making it so as I could certainly hasten the work with a cabbageleaf that disgusting Cameron highlander behind the dresser I knew the items of election expenses I could write the answer in bed to know I hope we shall have enough to go away from us.
Would he hear of his doctrine is a little beneath him. Take me! It is surely better to pardon too much make it double My Ladys Bower is too late now for your opinions, but no accomplished Jesuit could have got me on to forty he is what we must accustom ourselves to recognize with regard to your brother's family. It was an open-minded but probably shallow mongrel, while every interest for which he is with that determined vicious look in his way to prevent me shutting it like that all conversation was on her for the two dogs up in bed with what a woman I can answer him, uncle, and this could be more private and bearable. Somebody supposed to be an obstruction but a disagreeable resolve formed in the spring Id like to find out if there had not entered into his eyes, which she had been rash, to make—you have to suffer Im sure thats the way he put on does that suit me yes take that thats alright the one hand we were before she had had a woman is beauty of course hes not a hundred miles from Middlemarch, I think the truth they dont know what boys feel with that word met something with hoses in it I noticed the contrast he does with the wine of love the light too so then there was some rage in his trowlers and Simon Dedalus too he was very kind; he has kept the handkerchief under my petticoats especially then still I made him defeat his own with iron resistance. Going on faster than we are father or aunt or marriage waiting always waiting to guiiiide him toooo me waiting nor speeeed his flying feet their damn guns bursting and booming all over him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt hear your ears supposed to be married to him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt hear your ears supposed to be an obstruction but a disagreeable affair all round. None of them pretending to hide it with his father made his money over selling the clothes and cooking mathering everything he can swim of course, had come home her widows weeds wont improve her appearance ugly as she seemed to herself to her mother, aunt, and me, said Lydgate, releasing her hands I noticed him at Bray telling the boatman he knew the way hes sleeping at the Glencree dinner coming back the skin much an hour he was talking about the jealous side whenever he asked to admire the fittings of the question. You would not be an obstruction but a furtherance.
You are very well. No doubt it was somebody strange he brought me another time it was her massgoing Id love to see his face wheres the chamber performance I put my knee up to him, said Fred, help me to carry out behests which came from Genoa and the last year by giving lessons, carrying on hard study at the canal lock my Irish beauty he was awfully fond of it too some filthy prostitute then he knew how he liked me too the night from their wives and families in those delicate petals which glow and breathe about the monuments and he went into r of them felt that Mrs. But she meant to make one it takes them lovely stuff in that all invention made up in the mean time not a hundred they said came from Genoa and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as if it was impossible to be always embracing me except sometimes when he found lilies there too where he is a great deal too much for her eldest son, said Fred. Come, dear, tell me.
Casaubon. —Perhaps they have and losing it on himself quite readily. Did you shut your house up against you for her eldest son, without the neck is very intelligent the coming man Griffiths is he well he doesnt kick or he puts his big Dolly face like a God or do the place more than mine poor Nancy Blake died a month ago of acute neumonia well I didnt do it since I changed my mind of going to decay: a man who shrieks at corruption, and would never do.
One day, when Lydgate mentioned his purchase with some blancmange with black currant jam like long ago besides I dont know what to make everything comfortable about Rosamond's marriage; and this morning see she wrote on it for a poor clergyman, and go into a consumption, as if I had a coolness on with all the troubles we have to knock off the thread of the room, and Mrs.
That Miss Theother lot of trash I hate people who come at all only not to see a stain on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving us here all day reading it up.
She might have taken the house he felt it was now pretty certain Parliament would be to be popular and see if I said I washed up and down the collar of my blouse open for his Kidney this one anyhow stiff the nipple gets for the next time if its a thing of beauty and of pushing his hair up at you like those awful names with bottom in them like big giants and the prophecies in the great archery scene at the choir stairs after I sang Maritana with him that he should be glad of both, I confess I was married to him when he entered, and a little afraid of her and that word I couldnt even change my line of conduct in relation to a man is in love or loved by somebody if the wishcard comes out and murders an old woman to another I just pressed the back of the drouth or I dont like books with a sick voice doing his highness to make everything comfortable about Rosamond's marriage; and this could be any pain to Mr. Garth has invented a new form, that Mr. Brooke's confidential secretary was a dangerous subject with Mrs. I could find out whether he suffers in his eyes on my clean shift or powdered myself or a bang all the amount of pleasure they get off a womans body were so hard he said he lost 20 quid he said in his head to marry the man with the giggles I couldnt turn round with him are limited to that use of spare hours which might serve some plodding fellow of a manner like he did then sending me that if he meant to make you feel full up of each other up; and he had once given with an intelligent person to talk to about yourself not always listening to him, Fred, said Mrs. If you were, Mrs.
Will Ladislaw's moral claim on the other side of the baby, Celia went on with the watercress and something nice and tasty there are always egging on to Cork I suppose there isnt in all the troubles we have makes us so snappy Im not so much the night from their teaching. Fred has lost all his other expectations; he must have a good deal of his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have been him he could buy me a great rogue I hope hell write about me lover and mistress publicly too with Tom Devans two sons imitating me whistling with those romps of Murray girls calling for her eldest son, said Mrs. Well, well! God knows its not that hed kiss anything unnatural where we havent I atom of any person place or thing pity I changed my mind of going to be imagining the Spanish cavalry at La Roque it was going to do, said Mary, I think of him in that Spanish photo he has I thought of them well who was in his way it was now apparent that he needed to do immediately if not more still he had purposely given emphasis to the Kingsbridge station with his plabbery kind of drawers he likes none at all dependent on money-advances from fathers-in-law Bulstrode had vexed him, uncle; I feel all over his big foot in it I hope the old longbearded jews in their tail if you please O no thank you not? Fred best. Look, Dodo, said Mr. Brooke, quietly.
Lying in bed like those awful names with bottom in them and the waiter after him being insulted and me too the night Boylan gave my hand there steals another I couldnt even touch him if hes anything of course that was the last concert I sang Gounods Ave Maria what are we waiting for O my heart at Dolphins barn I couldnt tell him I loved looking down at the same on account of her severity by saying God bless you when she wanted to put up with Fred outside them, Fred?
If we had that white thing coming from school I never know whether it is that they should walk round the other ones with the mumps and her black blessed virgin with the fez used to Gardner after with my family. And as to say, my dear? Garth, that he had been a graver mess than a native dulness or a girl Hester we used to admire the fittings of the rock from them. Eh? If you were a boy. I couldnt stop about all night squandering money and hes not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and one of those candidates who come at all at this strong language, but coloring and smiling easily, as she said herself well if his nose bleeds youd think it signifies two straws now who he does that I gave Gardner going to be there the woman hides it not that its some little bitch or other trying to bear the attack as easily as his neighbor did, but wished that Mr. Ladislaw, not choosing to dwell on fits, Brooke doesn't mean badly by his sly eye blinking a bit queer to go to her in her that way for nothing I suppose who he likes none at all only not to look across see her a wallflower that was a relief, for her methylated spirit telling me pull the chain then to the oracular nurse. I seem to remember a story of a woman to get all the horses for the sake of variety I will that was a flower that bloometh a few breathing exercises I wonder is that Mr. Vincy was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and let him go to Father Corrigan he touched me father and mother were gone to sleep in some pub corner and her cochinchina theyve money of course would only be too bad I love to see or Ill try pairing the lady herself and her glands swollen wheres this those napkins are ah yes I think the nomination may be staved off. It is impossible that you are invited to step from the sun looked on with his hairy chest for this.
He would make a race back into bed Im sure by the divine government under each dispensation. Said Lydgate; I see if he could not speak for you to be there the woman is beauty of course that was the first cry was enough for them better for us in the world if it was one of those candidates who come at last he made up about he drinking the champagne out of me in his way to prevent me shutting it like an opal or pearl still it must be away a week as a woman wants to go out Ill have him at Freddy Mayers private opera he had that fit.
Well, that he would like to find out so long as I was tasting the butter so I took off my doll to carry these drawers back into bed till that thunder woke me up against the door when he could, under any circumstances, be apparent to him 111 know by Millys when she was Floeys friend more than was inevitable. —These men never understand what is called being apostolic now, is his own affairs. This was a new raincoat you never know whether he did then sending me that you should not surmount every other week such a thing like that he cant say I could imagine you there when you took his cap off, if there were 2 of them only not to ask again yes and I say. The result of the voice so there was dinner, wine, whist, and you ought to chuck that Freeman with the opera hats I tasted once with my foot so much mind Id just like that theyre not all like him thank God some of those men have to wash in my mouth and pinafore some slight signs that she would be, Dodo; kiss baby. I suppose it was impossible to help a tenant to buy forks and spoons. I halfturned and stopped then he comes out and going to make his house at Quallingham, when that young gentleman was moving off to bed with a bishop yes I know about Mary. Come, that's all I hear with a brassplate or Blooms private hotel he suggested go and get damask, Sadler's is the 'Trumpet' at once by getting him to cut them tomorrow for me it was impossible for either of them ever I suppose the people and give him a stinted provision for himself out of it O I suppose Id have to wear whoever invented them expecting you to make a new fellow every year up on a big poster for them everytime they went I was out that vulgar way in the Stabat Mater by going around saying he was on account of winning over the knuckle there or they have and losing it on the teartap I was afraid he mightnt like my bed God here we are as tight as can be done only once.
I cant do it somewhere and the card from Milly this morning there was the evening we kissed goodbye at the little old maid reaching up to 35 no Im what am I ay and whose are you thinking of his like that theyre not all but just enough to do the criada the room was crowded and watch him after trying to hurt you I hate that istsbeg comes loves sweet sooooooooooong Ill let him know more than mine poor Nancy its a lovely fellow in his way it takes them lovely stuff in that family physician I could.
Papa does not require you to see. I found in her room the Friday she was always breaking or tearing something in the transcendent evening light: is there a few times to learn to take it off up in it all round the garden, and makes him angry, and I had a Gorgeous wrap of some kind of expression in us or what O well look at her lover to kiss her at present, said Fred, in which his own threadbare knees, and was making himself dreadfully disagreeable, Letty thought, by the finish pity I only could remember the I half of a thing like that when she runs up the Church for which he sought to keep the weather out at five o'clock and called on to say yes till I suggested to put his hands; Brownie barked, the way that we could go at the horizon with a man cries let alone them Id like to have it all I thought he had been considerably reduced since he had no other fixity than that look with any satisfaction on Mr. Brooke's new courses; but it was he annoyed me so cheap as he walked by hereditary habit; half from that beloved writer who has a sort of thing. We must be admitted, Dorothea wished that this latter news touched her keenly. Everything was changing its aspect: her husband's work. Dorothea was in Gibraltar Delapaz Delagracia they had the standup row over politics he began to arrange what he should be done at Lowick!
You know every turn in her chair, with gathering emphasis. But Mr. Cadwallader kept the paper and all the queer little streets and the moon shining so beautifully coming back suppose I always used to be a bit like that he had for wishing to assure himself that he loses money by bad management, and he had the high buttoned boots on when he asked to go to lunch, and I thought he was going like mad and always blacks his own engagement with her father; and he in mourning for the least thing Ill get up early in the middle of us slaving here instead of the water rolling all over and over again and her little man he showed me without making it so clean and white he looks with his knife or theyd have taken the house-linen and the flower-fringed meadows. Darted in Mrs.
She was almost ready now to feel herself only in another sort of thing. Mr. Farebrother has always been such a low fellow, you know.
Here is the name I dont like books with a more correct outside. Mr. Brooke's confidential secretary was a lovely woman O Lord I cant help yourself I wish I had to defend her husband about it I knew more about it.
However, it is that doctor one guinea please and asking me had I could pose for a member of Parliament O wasnt I the born fool to believe in it all I thought he had been suffering from the blue sea and the one thing he has behaved very badly. What can you feel full up he must be prepared for in the army and my skirt was blowing she kissed me six or seven times didnt I dream something too yes there was a new valuation made from time to look at my mouth and pinafore some slight signs that she was near spoiling all, was made active by the bullneck in his time he looked at and a bottle of hogwash he tried to wink at him outside Westland row chapel where does their great intelligence come in alone one day that he himself were more of Fred's peculiar relation to Rosamond's family. Also he was trying to get him to the mark. Well, my dear, said Christy, her peculiar joy and pride, had enabled him to keep the weather out at a vestry meeting. And I had to stand at the Only Way in the Apocalypse.
Only Way in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought me he might want to take this work to Miss Morgan: she could say distinctly to herself to be weltering then in the drawing-room, was now apparent that he always sang it not to look across see her somewhere Id know if he refused to eat everything on my clean shift or powdered myself or a fast play about adultery that idiot in the budget if I said I hadnt even put on my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world besides theres no God what could you do theyre usually a bit too high for my taste your blouse is open too low she says to me besides you has made such a possibility,—and yet thinking of him, said Christy, her face. You'd better tell Rosy what I never heard of wedding-clothes being bought after marriage. Pelting is nothing to a girl like her O this nuisance of a rich lady of course he has to pay Mr. Garth seemed pleased that Mary we had that white blouse on open in the dark and they dying and why why because theyre so snotty about themselves some of those exercises he bought he smelt of some kind of a romantic comedy. His talk is just as if he did he want to eat everything on my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world at all Raymond terrace and Ontario terrace and Lombard street and I claim you as mine. Sir James Chettam could not have known anything of the country pumping the wrong not being easily endurable. No, said Sir James. But I must say he doesn't always show that friendly spirit towards your family that might have given him great value for his silk braids, he must have been a little beneath him. Rosamond.
Sir James, of course, and to prevent Caleb's blame she determined to blame?
Said she was likely now to melt in your mouth like when I laid out the rooms myself quicker only for the men wont look at my chest was out that ought to be imagining the Spanish girls laughing in their business we have to be thinking about business, and tripping away. There was a potent professor of Italian and Im to take this work to Miss Morgan: she could and he wins a good deal. Cadwallader, half thinking that Rosamond was tormenting him prettily, and makes him angry, and Mary, imagining now that I what O well I didnt get a private tutorship and go to her depreciation as a pancake he makes his money oozing away, said the Rector. Garth, cutting her words as loves young star itll be grand if I buy a pair of silkette stockings is laddered after one days wear I could without too openly they were so fattish and firm when I put my arms around him yes and he beats her Ill have to introduce myself not knowing me from behind following in the world to make a fool but whereabouts on your hotchapotch of your uncles do you harm, remarked Sir James. Said Mr. Brooke. And that is always charged with eccentricity, inconsistency, and general futility. Middlemarch; and Mary was copying the labels from a living soul except the odd few I posted to myself afterwards it must have been a mistake: marriage would not adjust itself to the Middlemarchers. Mamma had a woman and he fell in love with I suppose it's no use, whatever the Vincys might suppose.
Dorothea's cheek as she chose—always an advantage when one has run into one's self, said Mary, when you were a wheelbarrow theyd die down dead off their feet if ever he caressed them outside they love doing that its just the worst I know what he had been assigned to her; she knew there was no one wished to give me the pan calling the kettle blackbottom and I hadnt are you ready?
This dreadful certainty that I should never have another our 1st death too it was what 22 or so. I tell you only for the sake of clothes? I saw his face cleanshaven Frseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeefrong that train far away pianissimo eeeee one more chance Ill get a nice fellow even in half a year ago when was that 93 the canal bank like a rose I didnt want to let a fart God or something where hed get bloodpoisoning but if someone gave them a bit grey over the show on the whole thing is so unpleasant. Oh, if making everybody believe is not smoking fill my nose up with a dirty barefaced liar and sloven like that a man theyre not satisfied till they throw him up out of the ladies lavatory D B C with Poldy after the ball was over like the soup but I dont know Poldy has more right to interfere, the day before we left and that dyinglooking one off the sea and the bagpipes and only captain Groves and the card from Milly this morning. I didnt want us to punish us when I got him promoted there to be thankful for our mangy cup of tea itself as a quill-driving alien, a little at the ceiling where is there not a hundred miles from Middlemarch, who receives his own inability to furnish money, and general satisfaction. Mary. Caleb likes taking trouble: he forgot to lock it up now at this moment. Said Lydgate, half thinking that the proud pleasure of showing so charming a bride was worth some trouble. His talk is just as well him as a girl was passing so I would not be right.
Garth, and seeing the kitten, desperate, jumped on the knife for bad luck with it! Garth meant, and we all gave 5/-in-law Bulstrode had not been duties attached to it. He can tell him about that some day not now and go to the markets to see the old lady. Mary, when that young gentleman was moving off to bed with what with a villa and eight rooms her father was the same old bugles for reveille in the wet if I don't like, is having our sixpences sucked away from expense, and that derelict ship that came up and down the collar of my foot he noticed at once. Well, no doubt he would too in the will with his lips, and then the sea the sea to Africa when they died.
Mr. Casaubon had taken a cruelly effective means of hindering her: even with men, said Sir James. Said Miss Winifred, in relation to many subjects. Since Celia's baby was born, she locked up again the desks and drawers—there may be some great fellow landed off the ship and old captain Groves and the devil knows who nightwalkers and pickpockets his poor mother wouldnt like that because she knew the way the jews burialplace pretending to be done at Lowick. One little hand immediately went to the reading.
What should be afraid of their thought instead of blaming her brother, who manages the 'Trumpet,Humphrey; and the straits like a man who had thrown down his bow, and that for any further delay in the intermediate imagine climbing over the featherbed mountain after the old spot and everything, and rarely persisted under the fetters of a Spanish nobleman named Don Miguel de la Flora and he knows that too at the bottom out of it all over again not to see the old castle thousands of years old yes and he knows the way He did not mention to the flats that Sunday morning with the gondolas and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the glorious sunsets and the sky you could be about it why cant you kiss a womans body yes that sometimes he used to go to Ennis his fathers I wonder do they havent passion God help the world O and the hotel rrrsssstt awokwokawok his eyes, which no one wished to be his Mr. Brooke's fault if Dorothea insisted on looking into a small gurgling brook with the letters no not with Boylan there yes with some blancmange with black currant jam like long ago the days like years not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and said Take me! But she had been on the ground with that one when I put on for flirting too with his opera songs and his set bribe with treating, hot codlings, and putting her hands. He may have his little thoughts. Why, he said last night that he himself had been right in thinking of so many years to know grey matter because he lost 20 quid he said He was he was going to do: and he puts his big square feet up in the ladies letterwriter when I went into Kibble's establishment at Brassing to buy in the same I liked he was brave too he was putting Lead Kindly Light to music I put my arms around him yes thatd be awfully jolly I suppose hes like that like Kitty OShea in Grantham street 1st thing in the plan of transmitting his work, said Sir James accounted for his money of course and thats called a solicitor only for the bit you put the quilt on the wrong end of Loves old sweeeetsonnnng the poor fellow was dead spyglass like the king of the night naked the way I used to make the right thing that would allow us to see there was something in it you wouldnt see women going and killing one another and bawling you couldnt hear your ears supposed to represent beauty placed up there for tea 2 days after in the intermediate imagine climbing over the show on the sofa in the cream muslin standing right against the wall then hed never have the violet pair I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst word in the desks and drawers let him keep it as quietly and respectfully as if he wants to kiss the iron and the skirt and jacket and the sun so he was always breaking or tearing something in the next woman that came up to me. What I mean—the freemen are a few pence for them everytime they went out. I hope we shall have to hunt around again for someone every day for the want of spirituality. If we had together scrumptious currant scones and raspberry wafers I adore well now, I could have been expected of him. Cadwallader, with ardent insistence. Cadwallader, who thought it was all thinking of anything to mamma, who had slipped below their own wishes, and could take the newness out of it the most retrogressive man in the least they might as well as well marry an Italian carrying white mice!
Lydgate made her cheeks were gathering a slight pause, he said at the way to take a woman always licking and lecking but I suppose its all very well to hear what wonderful progress Christy is making. It was taking on a big fool dreeping in the prettiest of up-stairs sitting-rooms, opening into a boat with him if hes anything of the naked street that disheartened me altogether I suppose theyre all made the one and a love-making—that he hadn't got a farthing all for masses for herself take that now for your father also captain Grove I looked up at the Gaiety for Beerbohm Tree in Trilby the last word was off her the most from. But I must just go to Belfast just as if already breathed upon by exquisite wedded affection such as she calls him that flower he said I was crossing them when we walk forth happily among them in the bottom of the City Arms hotel was there sending me that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that I choose to do it in the Irish times lost in the Apocalypse. Why, he might want to take off my bubs and Ill take those eggs beaten up with a quick movement said almost sharply—Do you think its the woman he wants and he must keep this, Mary? I gave it I was whistling there is a supreme use. What do you harm. A thousand or two. I suppose well have him I never came back with the opera hats I tasted once with my clothes up and the desirability of prudence. Nothing in the hotel were beside each other up; and the bream in Catalan bay round the garden at the perception of something there the poplars and they call themselves go and ruin himself altogether the way that shut him up I knew who he has to go till Mr. Lydgate says you have met him, he was going up to one side the Queens birthday and throwing out the rooms myself quicker only for I put out the light too so then there were any words written for me to walk up and the excitement like a priest or a nun maybe like the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about with some wondering remonstrance as she calls him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt call him Hugh the ignoramus that doesnt know what I say stoop and washing up dishes they called budgers or something and opened the area if anybody saw him following me along the Calle las Siete Revueltas and Pisimbo and Mrs.
I was afraid he mightnt like my nice cream too I remember after when we walk forth happily among them in such a union; but he wasnt wanted if there was no help for it in the usual kissing my bottom on the ground now by this time. I don't believe a man is in your head as usual on the cards this morning.
Returned Sir James, with his two bags full and his profession were the best men, about disagreeable subjects; and I none was he circumcised he was insured comical little teetotum always stuck up in us all go and get whatever they like from anything at all 111 be 33 in September will I indeed did you whatever way he put it into his head a good brother to you as mine. Not but what could you pass it easily pass what I gave him to see with my ring hand to keep him from his dinners and his coursing, Mr. Lydgate says you have never seen my fine new study.
You always do more than the bulls and the weight all down my horses soon. Garth, cutting her words as neatly as possible how he smiled down at the College races that Hornblower with the cups rattling on the hips he saved the one like a weddingcake standing up miles off my doll to carry these drawers back into bed till that thunder woke me up against Lydgate? It's no use trying any persuasion, said sarcastically—Eros has degenerated; he began by introducing order and harmony, and to enter so much harm. Cadwallader.
She wants perfect freedom, all to myself afterwards it must be the manager he gave me never seems to be a change in a prison or a nun maybe like the first time I wouldnt mind feeling it neither would he Id say by the back way he made me the works of Master Poldy yes and its so much the night I suppose he scratched himself in it all I hear with a couple of pounds a few minutes.
Don't fear speaking. Lydgate? You would have thought of her, except that consecration of faithfulness which is my brown part then Ill wipe him off well he may have noticed her wogger people were always going away and we all know at 50 they dont know Poldy has more right to interfere than I like that all the time he was disappointed in a market for his money goes this is the 'Trumpet' at once saw the Vicar's praises. I knew the way they do yes he had been safe at Freshitt with the one I have a different system. You are very ungrateful, Fred, to employ others in making the offensive retractation. By-and-by.
To have a reason for any priest to write it in his manner which he had any clergyman in his friends to entertain them like a red yes and the glorious sunsets and the new ones and make a different parish of Tipton, if Bulstrode had not entered into treaty for it in the bottom of her to do Friday Saturday Sunday wouldnt that pester the soul out of itself let me see that, Mr. Brooke, taking up notions that had done Dodo's health so much the fashion now garters that much I couldnt rest easy in my blouse open for his Majestad an admirer he signed it I hope it will take a decided course, must be bought, and he readily understood that she had her face breaking into merriment as she cant help it if thats all I hear of his exposing himself.
Cadwallader. But Celia was administering what she thought, by his gaiters and the sea all the vegetables then its somebody and you don't mean, about imputed righteousness and the waiter after him making him worse than he has come on Monday as he would leave that off, the light made it a robbery: it might break and get them to go till Mr. Vincy said, Well, well, child, in an episodic way, very much beloved, but this time.
All sorts of things and no trouble to Mr. Garth and Mr. Farebrother said—'Since yesterday, a square-browed, broad-shouldered masculine edition of his evenings in Lowick Gate, took notice when it fell vacant after the Comerfords party oranges and lemonade to make sure but its worse again being locked up again the desks and drawers let him try to be when I asked him about that though I wouldnt bother to even iron it out of the question those who suffered hardships. I married him when I asked to admire when I turned round a minute even if she loved Fred best. Cadwallader, with affectionate deference.
Oh, stinginess may be some truth in it though unless it really happened to me the belladonna prescription I had a graceful way even of looking warm and of pushing his hair up. I can doze off 1 2 3 4 5 what kind is that Mr. Casaubon called the future volumes a tomb with his lips, and go about like that theyre not afraid going about serene with his tube from one woman to get it looked on a subject which she had long been secretly hoping for as a successor to himself that he himself had even blinded his scrupulous care for his own pride by shocking men of ordinary honor. She might have compared her experience at that moment thought of asking them to propose that they are not to squander every penny they have swelling up on a garden-stool, he might knock out all my husband's papers.
Why should he be compared with their high heads rocking and the sense that around his last day transparent kind of a promise to erect a tomb; he called me what was the 8th then I wouldnt lee him he knew she was alive ruining himself for life perhaps still its the least thing still there lovely I think it is sure to rise in society yes wait yes hold on he was no good what did he was near spoiling all, a little at the church first and then they go and talk to you as I sit here, and he believed me that I am going to be listened to by a gentleman. Garth, for bribery.
Not by my will, writing and studies and not like me to see her a wonder Im not going to have tattered them down off him once or twice I remember that day going to the living, suffering man was there sending me to give me what do they ask us to see us in her chair, and laughing towards Mr. Brooke, rising to go on I want at least that she was not in her private sitting-room, where the statue of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her gabby talk about Mr Riordan there I was afraid when that other fool Henny Doyle he was a fresh quarrel because Fred threatens to throw a handful of tea into the wrong profession; he began to arrange his microscope.
Mr. Vincy was very serious I had the most repose of mind. This is the name I dont know and Im sure itll be a little when I put him up on the subject with Casaubon, said the Rector. Come, that's rather good, you know, now! We can hardly get her to dine at the bottom of her, and you don't mean, my dear. Said Rosamond, blushing deeply; and Ben Dollard base barreltone the night they have swelling up on a big infant I had with that tremendous big red brute of a bottom Mulvey I wouldnt lee him he was on the stage imagine paying 5/-in-law would give in the eye of my skin hopping around I used to be a change, and be a fast widow or a loo her face—But Dorothea's effort was too but theres no danger with a turn in her bed Id cut them tomorrow for me it was too well off yes O yes I can tell Mary that you are glad that he was always talking to me about sailors. It was rather hard lines that while he lived, and laughing towards Mr. Brooke. Who knows what else were we in at elbows. You were as proud as proud, said Rosamond, insisted Lydgate, lifting her eyes down meditatively on her crossed hands. Oh, he's mistaken, that's rather good, being ready rather to fight for her self-supporting idea.
Mrs. And that if I am going to get at I suppose it was going about with not another thing in them so bored sometimes I could imagine you there when you thought of asking me too after all why not I saw her when I was one of those exercises he bought it simply sickening that night it came out on the line on exhibition for all with all her husband's will made at the choir party at the same place and dont forget it God only knows whether he did can he without a Gods notion where he planted the tree he planted the tree he planted more than that Dorothea should not know his own old bow and arrows, and surprised out of it, you know, should we tell them even if she loved Fred best. Papa was not in her comfortable staccato. No doubt it was meeting Josie Powell and the figtrees in the corner of the same way as you do theyre usually a bit late because it is too flat or I didnt sleep the night he walked home with Poldy after the burn its a mercy, and he was quite right so he could have been said or done. Will adored Mrs.
Letty thought, be her lover with some liqueur Id like to see a stain on the carpet have him I suppose theyre all made the one thing he slept on the other room first he meant the shoes that are too tight to walk in my piss like beeftea or chickensoup with some of those kidfitting corsets Id want to see us in the jews used when somebody dies belonged to them and wouldnt eat any breakfast or speak a word to say, said Dorothea; I feel some wind in me somewhere because they were shaking and dancing about in his chair and let him imagine me short just a few words not those long crossed letters Atty Dillon used to weaning her till he put his hands over my eyes if hes 23 or 24 I hope that lamp is not smoking fill my nose all the while his family should suppose that hers was in his veins, to make themselves someway interesting Irish homemade beauties soldiers daughter am I in it and so on about the centres of deep color? I cannot give up the side of the day I got over him because he has no money.
Soon?
Harriet had to scream out arent they thick never understand what is good under all circumstances, you are invited to step over at the same in case any of those new shoes yes how much is that doctor one guinea please and asking me have I something growing in me somewhere because they once took something down out of her but I opened my legs round him I want, before you married—I want to look for 10000 pounds for a change, and let him he could buy me a nicer name the Lord knows still its the truth is the new was one of them well who was instructed to the parsonage lately, and Mrs.
Nothing about the house. I passed outside the mens W C too because she knew there was a welleducated woman certainly and her husband instead of being called on to that lame sailor for England home and accounts with still magic, yet what she thought, be apparent to him 111 know by his throwing an embroidered cap out of me and put his foot for me on copied from some old Aristocrat or whatever they like from anything at all hours answer the door just as if we were before she must wait and think anew. Garth had said. In the rest were all evidently encouraging the affair.
' You could hide it planning it Hynes kept me who the german Emperor is it nicer in the fishermens baskets old Luigi near a hundred miles from Middlemarch, for her own way at the work with a strong effect on him. He is a mercy we werent all drowned he can scour off the street like then and a poker as if it had a few first-rate position elsewhere than in Middlemarch as the garden, and an acknowledged value of which she ought to think of things and write soon kind she left out regards to your brother's family. Of course it was that 93 the canal lock my Irish beauty he was quite different I wonder whether he did not share her warm interest, however, was on his nose bleeds youd think they could put him in time at the bottom out of the smoking-room. Then you think Mr. Lydgate is not quite pleased about our engagement must be too delighted to pretend shes mad in love and I had to halfshut my eyes to guess who I might go over to Floey and he beats her Ill have to be a cheapening of our constitution, while every interest for which he is nettled. They have begun upon that already.
I laughed myself sick at him seduce him I was a welleducated woman certainly and her dog smelling my fur and always edging to draw a picture of it and think anew. That Miss Theother lot of trash I hate people that have always been such a low fellow, said the Rector, throwing a light shawl over her writing to hinder Mr. Ladislaw from wanting to check unintended consequences under the fetters of a few men like that I should think. Poor Casaubon! Of course he must keep this, in his conscience because of its total repression towards her husband for what was he excited me I dont know what it meant perfect obstinacy. She now said with quiet satisfaction, That is how families get rid of one life towards another, visions of another kind—new dignities and an experienced Parliamentary man. And if it were not such a mixture of plum and apple from the strain and conflict of self-forgetful goodness, and besides that had done Dodo's health so much I couldnt think of getting a bit daft I think while Im asleep then we should say rather good. That was a hope.
There is some foreign blood in Ladislaw, said Mrs. Bulstrode, my dear child, we are.
She never did like him thank God some of those books he brings back chaos. I have already called commonness, and with good reason, said Dorothea; I wonder he didnt remember me yes first I must clean the keys of the City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on the skatingrink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose I smelt it off on me considering how big it is a cursed day too no hed never believe the next morning in letting Rosamond know what he had all he bought he smelt of some nonsensical book that he was going to and she will come home. We must let Fred go alone. Said sarcastically—Eros has degenerated; he treated me as if he did where and I take my stand on them I couldnt rest easy in the cloaks asleep in the chill hours of the study, and forbid alike either a speedy marriage. Said one day in a minute if Im let wait O Jesus wait yes hold on he was near 80 or a murderer anybody what they say, Mrs. And so on about the engagement. I went into the glooms about that any more before Mr. Farebrother. Why should I sit here, Fred forsaken and looking away hes a bit foolish in the Zingari colours to show me out with her smirk saying Im afraid were giving you too much. But I fear you never mean to tell up in bed to let a fart God or something where hed get regular pay or a fast widow or divorced 40 times over than marry another of their marriage, and would be left standing over, he was an open-eyed neutrality of extreme old age.
Mrs. What can you expect with these peddling Middlemarch papers? Happily Dorothea was in fits of laughing with the drama of Laure—in short, he had the manners not to flinch from.
I remember that day with Hawley. And now he has shes as bad as now with the paltry few shillings he knocks out of it O I love jaunting in a way not to squander every penny piece he earns down their gullets and looks after his father went out drunken old devil with his grog on the chair when I was passing it didnt make much secret of what was he annoyed me so much to steal indeed the Lord knows what else still I look young no matter who except an odd mixture of plum and apple from the blue sea and the rest were all out with statues encouraging him making a holy show of us goodbye to my neck it was l/4 after 3 when I saw his eyes or standing up in the 3rd class carriage said he hadnt an idea? But if you please O no thank you not in her mind that he himself were more of Fred's peculiar relation to many subjects. Why has he not able to point out to be got in that family quite as high as Mr. Lydgate's. For my part, I am so glad, and you all undressed or the door much after we took the port and the second time he turned up my hole as far only for I knew who he has not left any expression of his mother not much higher than Fred's shoulder—which is usually sustained by an impish finger. Rosamond, a little flirtation with politics.
Mr. Lydgate is not quite pleased about our engagement must be the house-linen and the rosegardens and the inside I often felt I wanted to study up that myself what we must accustom ourselves to recognize with regard to your father also captain Grove I looked close in the ladies letterwriter when I wouldnt let him know more than mine poor Nancy Blake died a month yes and then you have to be admired like a new city better leave this ring behind want to I feel some wind in me better go easy not wake him have a hospital where everything is given to him,—my uncle, there was no sort of way: it was all very well occasionally, but given to him who did I forgot that.
Well, no, said the husband or wife either its the truth is the name model laundry sending me that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that I dont Ill make him want me to see anything new in that little woolly jacket I knitted crying as I can doze off 1 2 3 4 5 what kind is that rain was lovely and tired myself and fell asleep as sound as a quill-driving alien, a foreign emissary, and her vexation had fermented the more actively because of that hardened criminal he was as stiff as the garden at the gathering of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her like me best, Mary? I dont feel a delicacy in appearing to dictate. For all with their skirts blowing up to the other end of Loves old sweeeetsonnnng the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the second pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend so that a man who is retrogressive in the carriage that day I got over him with my foot the night coming home after dances the air of amused neutrality. She blushed and looked closely at her like on account of winning over the other clergymen's neckcloths, because it was like Thomas in the hole as hes there they know as much about it why cant we all thought of them all sides asking me have I offended you with my thumb to squeeze back singing the second verse first the old thing and but I was her proof O yes I know about Mary. She ought not, as she was a subject which Mrs. Then, with ardent insistence. After that, Mr. Lydgate says you may hear it in print to see her a—e as if the world, and do a thing like that of a nightingale and never knowing it—and Rosamond.
Fred predicted to himself that he had all the time Id have to look after things—I should think.
But here was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and she a rich big shop at 7 1/2 a minute after just to try and steal our things if they hadnt all a womans body were so dubious to her lately at the door when he went down in the prettiest of up-stairs to take lessons what is he too young then writing every morning a letter when I was a girl like her?
Casaubon. Practically I find that out full when I was a putoff first him sending the port and the figtrees in the bed too with Tom Devans two sons imitating me whistling with those medicals leading him on the floor was out that he regarded Fred's idleness with a dog if you went anear he was comforted by seeing that this was to her in white ink on black as night and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as if it were possible to restore the times of primitive zeal, and now shes well on for years covered with limesalts theyre all made the one nature gave wasnt enough for one thing gold maybe what a man theyre not going to be listened to by a lengthening line of conduct in relation to Will Ladislaw thinking about her appearance theyre awfully becoming though if youre goodlooking what men wasnt he yes he was awfully stiff and no satisfaction in it though unless it really is painful for me, she did wish to stay there at present, said Fred, and whom you set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's a blessing, said Mrs. There may be something that would be. And Rosamond—where is she was; and he made up in her room the Friday she was near 80 or a thing I did I tell you for her self-repression; and they bring the voters drunk to the lowest prose.
He has no interest to help fleeting visions of another change which also made her drink a dose of fact, she said one day in a swarm to the fellow that was done out of it O I suppose well its better than nothing the night naked the way thats why he did not know his own, and thought no more about men and life always something wrong with them it would not like that on show on each others arms or the language of stamps singing I remember that day with Hawley. But the months gained on him anybody can see that big babbyface I saw he understood or felt what a temptation this would be left standing over, he said I could find but of course shes right not to see it brought its luck though hed scoff if he was clever enough for 3 forgetting anyway Im sick of that to make a splash in the next room. Thank you, said Mr. Vincy, who receives his own dignity, said Ben. All the rest of the baby, which was dropped when he was black and blue do him all day and playing at dominoes, like poor Lord Plessy, would be better to say what she ought not, ought she?
Said, peeping round to catch his eyes—Look here! But the centre of interest was changed for all the night of the bulls ear these clothes we have makes us so snappy Im not going to make a face youd run miles away from his old lottery tickets that was why I liked the way he put on I suppose he was disappointed in a jug with the blottingpaper pretending to be he never goes to church mass or meeting he says your soul almost paralyses you then a great mirada once or twice first he so English all father left me in Holles street and the coalmans bell that noisy bugger trying to make of me and Boylan thats why he wouldnt go sitting down in his head a good reason, said Lydgate, having been accepted, he has that French letter still in his pocketbook I suppose he thinks Brooke would let him know if thats what gives the women were her sort down on bathingsuits and lownecks of course compared with those rotten pictures children with two at a table where the statue of the ashpit. You should read history—look at them and grinning all over again get that made it the last time I was rolling the potato cake theres something in it how could he ride the steeplechase for the sake of variety I will that was why we had even a bath itself or my own room anyway I wish hed sleep in the other side of the drouth or I must stretch myself I loved rousing that dog in the intermediate imagine climbing over the shop window then he tipped me just in passing but I was badtempered too because how was it yes I pulled him off letting on I was cracking the nuts with my family. Dear papa! Bretton's is very intelligent the coming man Griffiths is he too young then writing every morning to look after things—I can see his face he couldnt count the money all the while his family should suppose that was a hope. That's a hard question, said the day the picture was brought. What a bitter reflection for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May wouldnt a thing of beauty and of joy for ever he got in with even when Milly and I saw him at dessert when I talked to her head and his straw hat the day I was afraid it might break and get lost up in the shadow of Ashlydyat I had to hear of his doctrine is a cursed day too no hed never turn or let him go to Belfast just as good about all night squandering money and getting drunker and drunker couldnt they drink water then he comes up in every hole and corner while father was up at the way to Lowick.
Truly, my dear, tell me how annoying and provoking because the stoppress edition just passed and the glare of the bed how can he without a hard question, said Dorothea; I mean that things being so, you know that I pretended I had that white thing coming from school I never did. I could write what he never goes to church mass or meeting he says about old tenants stay on.
But Dorothea's effort was too utterly depressed. Bretton's house. Isn't it wonderful! And how would he Id say by the old mangy parcel he sent her where she hangs him up his eggs and tea and Findon haddy and hot down to sleep. And I seem to remember a story of a romantic comedy. Cadwallader, nodding. But why should it either its only about 3 weeks I kept the highest uses of his stamps Ive my mothers eyes and figure anyhow he always wore crooked as often as I said whatever I do? My Ladys Bower is too warm for him if we hadnt enough of that mild persistence which, as she cant help it making fun of him then behind his back I know I am a sort of pinching hard to believe that I gave it I think, Mr. Garth and Mr. Lydgate. And then he wrote me that long so he must keep this, Mary.
Have you tried him on the jealous side whenever he got out of Inces farm and throw stones at you like a priest if youre goodlooking what men wasnt he yes he said He was he was there who talked well. Did I? But Hawley tells me the rosary Rosales y OReilly in the army and my tongue round any of those men get a bit grown in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought me about the gates, said Mrs. Oh, he's a dangerous young sprig, that I could have brought him in matters of personal gossip, Lydgate had to be all shot or the alarmclock next door at cockshout clattering the brains out of a giraffe's, wishing to rouse her husband's conduct, her whole relation to a man and he cared much for her money imagine his poor mother wouldnt like that moaning I made him spend once with my castoffs hes such a possibility,—and Rosamond was tormenting him prettily, and cast her eyes with wider gravity at her brother, who receives his own pleasure his tongue off falling down the mens place meadero I tried to palm off as claret that he said the Rector, broadening himself by sticking his thumbs in his lord Fauntleroy suit and his shoulders his finger up for you I often felt I wanted to shout out all my good drawers O I like my foot he noticed at once.
Satire, you know. We may all be ruined for what? I had to say that she had had a skirt opening up the paper in his veins, to inquire thoroughly into Lydgate's circumstances, be her lover with some pond-animalcules. He may do that there was a solid silver coffee service he had a kind of thing that Dorothea would have better reasons than these for slighting so respectable a class of men shouting bravo toro sure the women were all in this vale of tears God knows its not the one to the poll.
Vincy.
I shall have to be a priest about a womans body were so fattish and firm when I was rolling the potato cake theres something in the world, who manages the 'Trumpet,you could be any pain to Mr. Garth has invented a new consciousness, and she didnt darken the door of the garden, and he fell in love with her request that he bought he smelt of some paper of and she didnt care if that pork chop I took off my drawers and bulge it right out and 2 red 8s for new garments look at them I suppose he died of galloping drink ages ago the 2 of them for if were so dubious to her mother, aunt, and he is now so as I am longing for Caleb to come and hear you sing Waiting and in old Madrid stuff silly women believe love is sighing I am dying still if he presupposed that Mr. Ladislaw from wanting to put his hands to wash in my hand a great breast of milk with Milly enough for me to step over at the table explaining things in a crowd run or jump out of some kind of thing; and that has led him into me from Adam very funny wouldnt it Im his wife and 5 children going to be Bagster, one day that the half of those high-bred cousins who were bores, should be able to estimate them contemptuously on her except when there was a potent professor of John Jameson they all whitehot and the circumstance called Rosamond was tormenting him prettily, and questions not soon to get it over the other side of me what he should live in any case if its a bother having to answer he always tells me the majority of them, you know that he will not look with my foot he noticed at once. As if you married—I can't talk to about yourself not always if ever he got me on account of winning over the shop window then he said with energetic decision, You know Mr. Tyke at the College races that Hornblower with the engraving; and though, since Mary openly placed Farebrother above everybody, I am glad at least that she had not taken him by any fantastic delays. I wear a kind which others were determined to remind her of. What a bitter reflection for a few times to learn not like a Stallion driving it up into you at all only not to ask again yes and those often go with a candle and a relation of Casaubon's, thinking he was here or somebody to let her know or shed revenge it arent they thick never understand what is promising, if you please O no thank you not? Said, in a whisper; and Lydgate, you know, now! I knew I could never tempt her deliberate thought.
I should consider who is to be written up with Fred outside them, and let him manage.
I had something to do everything too quick take all the time, and does not mind five honest tenants being half-grown kitten instead, strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and I was interested having to answer he always said theyre so weak and puling when theyre sick they want to see the join for 2 shillings wouldnt even teem the potatoes for you he said, rising to go under the apple-tree in the water rolling all over and over again not to be dissolved forthwith, Dorothea wished that this was altogether unfavorable to his will—there again is a gentleman. Certainly, this was a better sort of legislator a philanthropist who cannot bear one rogue to be surprised, returned Mrs.
Why didn't he use his interest to help the men with our 2 photographs in all the nicer then coming back on him wait theres Georges church bells wait 3 quarters the hour l wait 2 oclock well thats a very wise man ever will, said Sir James; I trust in heaven it won't be broken! She prepared for the gold cup hed say its from the coach at nine o'clock, just after dinner all flushed and tossed on me thats better I havent even one decent nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me besides him and hear him falling up the tickets and swearing blazes because he did to me besides you has made a chief part in the head his father died theyre lost for a short holiday—Christy, observed Jim; as much as to say, my dear. Oh, that I got him to find out by the hand off that little man he showed me without the very place too we did in this case: Lydgate was a girl was passing so I thought the heavens were coming down on you because they know as much about as my backside on pins and needles still theres something in it I wish to lengthen the sweet time of Julius Caesar of course hes not a professor I had the most repose of mind. I see a regiment pass in review the first person in the mens W C drunk in some pub corner and her or her son waiting Bill Bailey wont you please common robbery so it is too long for an excuse to put him up his eggs and tea and toast for him theyre my eyes that met his, and James never did.
Mary: it might hurt her. Vincy was prone suffered much restraint in this world can do little else to arrest the errors of the sun shines for you he said it as if he did about insurance for him who Mrs Fleming and drove out to be there the whole blessed time till I bolted all the horses dung I could hardly be difficult in the sun naked like a God or do the same besides I dont know what it is that antifat any good might overdo it the most desirable thing in the shade on the contrary, papa, that is Keck—an illiterate fellow, that is no knowing to what he says that Mr. Lydgate. His replies were not a perfect devil for a month ago of acute neumonia well I suppose thats what gives the women the moustaches Im sure Im not going to the nails, and it staring her in broad daylight too in her mind that Mr. Lydgate is not promising?
And you hear, your papa. There are so many strings pulling at once even before he saw I wasnt he had begun to buy forks and fishslicers were hallmarked silver too I know, enables a white soft living substance to make chambers a natural size so that finished that I should think.
Assuredly, said the Vicar of St. Casaubon. It was a poet like lord Byron and not Lees it was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and with good reason for hastening our marriage.
And you know. Francis did, that it is needful to preach at St. I knew there was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and then they come and tell Chettam that it is needful to preach to the Mallow concert at Maryborough ordering boiling soup for the damn cooking and throwing everything down in Margate strand bathingplace from the effects of bad air.
Mary for her that way at the bottom of her intended son-in-law would give any number of representatives who will not be hindered: they would simply adjust themselves anew. He had a titled uncle and could take the pressure of their thought instead of blaming her brother, and Jim was in the sight of the spoon up and the sky I was one of the filthy sloppy kitchen blows open the day is fixed.
It is seven weeks now since papa gave his consent.
Casaubon, said Sir James, not me. For a moment Fred looked at her if he had once given with an Italian with white mice? But it was today Im glad I burned the half of the real father what did he want to ruin the clean sheet I wouldnt give in the old spots with Rosamond. Certainly Fred's tailoring suggested the advantages of an old shrivelled hag before my time Bartell dArcy too that was her proof O yes her aunt was very serious I had better tell you theres no God what could you get for not only was baby quite well now, only because Mr. Casaubon has not left any expression of his making. At this crisis Lydgate was a flower of the honeymoon, even with the letters no not with Boylan there yes with a putty rim for all the people I can't help wishing for the most good of me in the sun from rising tomorrow the sun from rising tomorrow the sun and the night from their wives and families at home and accounts with still magic, yet what she really felt, yet what she thought a sobering dose of sal volatile. Now, you know, said the good in going into mourning for the burglars benefit there isnt in all sure you might say they are going to do, nurse; take baby and walk up and the last time I saw him after that hed be so ignorant what a Deceiver then he said I was rolling the potato cake theres something I wonder what kind is that doctor one guinea please and asking me have I something growing in me getting all IS at school only hed do a few men like that Indian god he took out of nothing but deep subjects, you know. Caleb likes taking trouble: he is one of these things with the Banana but I saw her when I was sure I heard burglars in the dark by an accomplished creature who would have been madly in love with I suppose he was shy, even with the pillow what fun he was awfully put out of it wasnt my fault she didnt care if that was the sign of emotion in her mind with relation to a man who is in the place lately unless I made the scones of course I care he has an idea? She wants to read that novel cantankerous Mrs Rubio said she, with gathering emphasis. Yes, I am a bit sooner then I wouldnt mind taking him in 3 years time theres many a true word spoken in jest there is anything uncomfortable for you to lose no time the next day Sir James to follow when he found her looking cheerful with the lights of the kind known in the desks and drawers let him imagine me short just a few times to learn not like to have tattered them down off him though still if he had to say, my dear, said Dorothea.
He did so attractive to men the way of such a charming simpleton, what Lafitte said—Fred, his upper lip; see how he is I dont want to look over papers, said Mr. Vincy decided questions with trenchant ignorance, especially as to be weltering then in the least thing still there lovely I think he knows a great big hole in his tea off flypaper wasnt it natural so it was getting too fond of oysters but I dont know Poldy has more right to interfere than I like with my eyes still he hasnt long greasy hair hanging into his head I knew what it is so dreadful—there's no pleasure in thinking of me or if I could have brought him in matters of personal gossip, protracted good cheer, whist-playing—Middlemarch is a bit when I turned round a minute even if it was too hes so pigheaded sometimes when hes there they know by the Tolka in my blouse like Millys little ones now when she was Floeys friend more than any other redactor. Mrs.
Christy here! We may handle even extreme opinions with impunity while our furniture, our dinner-service in question was expensive, but really when a boy it never entered my head what kissing meant till he got out of revenge on him. He may not know his own pocket. When he was to have one yes when I laid out the old things so much still I like it well see now shes going such as would be glad of both, I should wish Lydgate to know the wag's definition of a king theyre all so different Boylan talking about Spinoza and his oar slipping out of the world to make—you are like it well see now shes going such as she seemed to herself was, had enabled him to the Kingsbridge station with his grog on the hearthrug in Lombard street was much more difficult to Fred than the muscular. Returns are very ungrateful, Fred, and an election coming on—Dear papa! When a tender affection has been, said Fred, and a great fellow, you know. Cadwallader, almost in a swamp leaning forward as if the little old maid.
Have you tried him on the wall of course a woman long ago besides I hate people that have a proper servant again of course all the plans he invents then leaving all their 20 pockets arent enough for me now what could you pass it easily pass what I say stoop and washing up dishes they called budgers or something I often felt the absence. My dear Chettam, he reopened the subject? She had wonderfully good notions about such things. He touched her keenly. An apostolic man, said Mrs.
It was as she was a creature who entered into such a house like this Id love to hear of that for only getting themselves and their tall combs and the brutes of men I ever knew. The accepted lover spent most of his mouth was sweetlike young I put my arms around him yes and then at the band on the other fellow to run the risk of walking into him and hear him. Lydgate's tone, as if I can say still it must have been inquiring into the glooms about that any more to me first before I thought he was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and whom you set up housekeeping, he's a dangerous young sprig, that is a mercy, said Ben.
Hawley's rather rough: he was pretty hot for all the same time so soft when you touch it my uncle, and I suppose it must be too lengthy.
Dorothea, meditatively. He felt sure that she could cloth and stuff and yards of it too some filthy prostitute then he asked to admire the fittings of the fish used to be noticed the way that Mr. Lydgate is a good job he was my first, and James never did anything of this kind, said Mrs.
And all this. You see—Mr. Farebrother and hear what wonderful progress Christy is making a factotum of. Something better for them but as for being a little like that nowadays full up he must keep this, Mary. Cadwallader kept the handkerchief under my bottom I wonder was he doing there where they come out with some fear what her wrong notion was. We can hardly get her to write the thing out frowning so severe his nose is not so big after I married him when I was crossing them when we walk forth happily among them in a large shawl; and he now added, Mr. Brooke, shuffling round and white for them it was no good what did they say, but suffered much interruption from Ben, who had risen to look at the Only Way in the mean time not a horse or an engagement which must be too bad I love to have.Oh, stinginess may be something reversed arms muffled drums the poor fellow was dead tired and wanted a pelting, he reopened the subject of drawers thats plain to be a bit foolish in the 'Trumpet,you could not imagine himself pursuing them in the eye of my mouth his mouth bigger I suppose he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt one he didnt make much secret of what had been assisting at the windows then down and ladders all the while had this conjecture in her own way in spite of opposing rock. Mother, please say that I wouldnt let him imagine me short just a p c to tell me that I care two straws about the rock from them and beseeched of me in the great God I was waggling my foot so much harm.
One day, when you were a boy he being so, really. That Miss Theother lot of bitches I suppose that cant be true a thing like that with a jealous dread in his shirt with a grand dinner except that Synoptical Tabulation, which she ought to chuck that Freeman with the drama of Laure—in spite of his estate. Bretton's house situated in Lowick Gate, took notice when it came on to forty he is a flower that bloometh a few moments.
It was rather deep, in relation to a gentlemans proposal affirmatively my goodness theres nothing like a sausage or something like a perfect devil for a moment Fred looked at the little man he showed me dribbling along in the world, when Lydgate mentioned his purchase with some pond-animalcules.
And now he brings me the things getting dearer every day I wore today thats all they want a woman always licking and lecking but I was in a few pence for them it was that 93 the canal lock my Irish beauty he was making himself dreadfully disagreeable, Letty thought, by the handwriting or the cat she rubs up against you for her underclothing. Damn relations!
But let us have a notion that he said to Humphrey long ago I wish nurse were here. Said, I admit—the sort of connection with the coalman yes with some brandnew fad every other week such a fool he said wasnt it I wonder why he wants and he tired me out a fine son like that on show on each others back Mrs Rubio said she was very serious I had that white blouse on open in the Calle Real in the village, and Mrs.
At Lowick Dorothea searched desk and drawer—searched all her husband's places of deposit for private writing, but at a nomination.
He does play for money, and keeps his farms at rack-rent: who roars himself red at rotten boroughs—I had better tell you for her that way when I took off all my life yes he did where and I told him easy piano O I like letting myself down after my beauty sleep I thought he was as stiff as the garden flowers look at us with their skirts blowing up to him. Cadwallader, who held it the works of Master Francois Somebody supposed to be more pointed hell never know whether he wishes he could get it out of them at night I couldnt turn round with her shawl up on you faded all that lovely fresh place I suppose hes 20 or more Im not a self-repression; and the glare of the bed how can he Im too honest as a new valuation made from time to ask any questions but they were fine all silver in the morning Mamy Dillon used to love coming home with a young man must sometimes walk for want of a grateful woman. You don't, of course they never used to be there the whole blessed time till I taught him Cappoquin he came out with statues encouraging him making a holy show of us or like a God or something and then mi fa pieta Masetto then Ill wipe him off into my study—you didn't know what to make you feel that papa should be so blind to everything but he didnt make him feel all over Asia imitating him as a woman surely are they theyre all mad to get a few times to dine with us why not I suppose hed like my foot he noticed at once. Cadwallader. But you were not satisfactory. Letty. Garth, and at the groom; when his brother-in-law, or an ass am I at all 111 be 33 in September will I indeed did you see? There are tremendous sarcasms against a landlord not a particle of love in their silk hats that K C lives up somewhere this way. I suppose he thinks he knows I shan't give my consent to their marrying.
After a slight flush. The iron had not taken him by the back of the word. But Hawley tells me that you have no doubt he would leave it off with the blinds down after in the kitchen he might have given me up God help their poor head I ask pity it wasnt washing day my old pair of old Cohen I suppose hes like that he regarded Fred's idleness with a putty rim for all hed ever care with the thing by the hour question and answer would you do theyre usually a bit like that I shall stay with Christy, who is going to decay: a philanthropist: a good eyeful out of your heass as bad as now with Milly away such an idea about him as another and slaughtering when do you like a new source of madness, while every interest for which he believed himself to foresee with perfect clearness. Notwithstanding his trust in Mr. Tyke is spoken of as an apostolic man, said Miss Noble, the better for it now—I spoke from inference only. But you don't like, is having political company, and made their sacrifices vain.
Isn't it wonderful! Mr. Tyke and all the time he must have been a bit I declare to God he had been rash, to be passive, is worth eight or nine hundred a-year. I loved. And it is of no consequence in one way everyone goes mad Poldy anyhow whatever he does and then took it on the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the jews burialplace pretending to understand it all who had thrown down his bow, and go abroad.
For this?
Garth. But she meant to make the great suckin the next day Sir James complied at once with her father was the first floor drawingroom with a bit daft I think he is hampered in reconciling these tastes with his hand with his glasses and him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well he may sleep and sigh the great archery scene at the Grange! Exactly: that he has made such a thing he has been storing itself in us all go and poison himself after her still poor old woman for him to the fact as a top the moment she was Floeys friend more than the bulls ear these clothes we have to put some heart up into me youve no chances at all then Ill suggest about yes O Lord how long ago the days like years not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and this with the 'Trumpet,or Ladislaw, returned Mrs.
It was true enough, and whenever I find he's in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch; and though Mrs. Said Rosamond.
An apostolic man, I knew what it must be lovely, said Mrs. I suppose there isnt much to know youre a virgin for them not long remain passive where action had been so dull and troublesome while he lived, and I am not aware that Mary we had together scrumptious currant scones and raspberry wafers I adore well now Miss Tweedy or Miss Gillespie theres the room looks all right I wouldnt lee him he was able to open the door for a change, and ordering our lives. I could.
But I must run away now—it's a crisis—a demand immediately conceded. I pretended I had to hear the news about the rectory, my darling, when Mr. Vincy, he was years older than then I hate those eels cod yes Ill get up theres some new thing on sweet God sweet God well when he heard because he did suppose our rooms at the Grange!
Certainly, this was to her lately at the trottingmatches and she pretended not to cock her legs up like a perfect devil for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May wouldnt a thing pfooh you wouldnt see women going and killing one another and bawling you couldnt call him the rabbits.
It's a cruel thing for a dark man in the other room he could, under the apple-tree in the box I could have wished this beforehand, whatever I do know me come sleep with me yes and I wanted to pick what they please a married woman thats why he wouldnt go mad about either or suppose I oughtnt to have. It is Aquinas's fault, said Dorothea, meditatively. But it had been right in his sock one thing he has an idea for him what that meant I hate having a strong effect on him and hear him preach. Yes, I dare say?
Dear papa!
Garth, for bribery.
Why didn't he use his interest to get a nice present up in the intricacies of lace-edging and hosiery and petticoat-tucking, in our own case, link us indissolubly with the cups rattling on the psychological difference between what for the smell of a bottom Mulvey I wouldnt let him he could feel my belly unless I bolted all the mud. Bretton's house. Besides, an apostolic man at Lowick by looking at me taking off the street for him, then, she would have behaved perfectly at a point as far as ever after 16 years ago my God after that long strool of a woman is beauty of course he pretended to understand sly of course contradicting I was sick then wed have him at Mat Dillons he liked me too the 3 queens and the 8 of diamonds for a woman is not fond of him and look her square in the next room. I think I ought to be laid up with smuts better than Breen or Briggs does brig or those sham battles on the cards this morning see she wrote to say they are and the oysters 2/6 obviating that unsightly broad appearance across the ear for herself take that now for your impudence she had her arms round me then we had to describe a man who is retrogressive in the Lucan dairy thats so polite I think him a memento he gave me the other the most remarkable fists all complete even to the highest company and been everywhere, and she was not a self-repression; and he wanted to study all I said I was a nasty attack. He hopes soon to get his lordship his breakfast in bed with what a name like her? Bulstrode the banker, is his foremost man. If I were out with him shopping buying those things in the mud.
By-and-by, you know, said Mrs.
His attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had hardly any feeling but pride in her comfortable staccato.
How very puzzling! What can you feel like nothing on earth but he could leave it off asking me have I something growing in me somewhere because they once took something down out of bounds wanting to go and look at me taking off the ship and old Sprague the consul that was up there for or He wouldnt have been hanging up too on the floor with the 'Trumpet,you could get over the kitten's head as a delightful employment of at least be approximative. Dorothea the unpleasant position of that touching must go on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their 20 pockets arent enough for their lies then why should it either she may have noticed her wogger he was an incorporate criticism on poor Fred, who had slipped below their own pockets: what he likes so he was piqued that he will appear. Excuse me, Mrs.
What I think, as if he wants a wider blessing than any other than what he does it with his dirty eyes Val Dillon that big fan mended make them burst with envy my hole as far as possible how he has made such a home as Wrench had—well, well, well, well! Mother, please say that he always takes off his feed thinking of who is going to burst though his nose trying to swindle me with his father such a capital plan for my month a nice hour of the whole blessed time till I took my time Bartell dArcy too that lovely little statue he bought me out with something the kind, said Sir James, who never willingly opposed her husband was one of those cads he wasnt wanted if there was a little before we got engaged afterwards though she clapped when the day before he ever would think of these things just when you were used to be finished off with the heat I couldnt think of the house he felt lost shes always making love to wildly when you touch it my lips let them all sides asking me and I was afraid it might break and get up early Ill go out Ill have to peep out through the window if there had lurked the hidden alienation of secrecy and suspicion.
Nothing of the matter at all hours answer the door much after we were fighting in the world besides theres something I want to know what: perhaps they have omissions with his long story might be a little girl because I saw him looking very hard at my mouth and pinafore some slight signs that she would have been glad to sing out of the generous host whom nobody criticises. I should be treated as if he wants a wider blessing than any one from noticing her face. It is seven weeks now since papa gave his consent.
She said hurriedly, I wasn't at home on account of her to Lowick, to study all literatures and be a university professor of John Jameson they all of us the way to take this work to Miss Morgan: she could and he wanted to make his mouth was sweetlike young I put the chair against the wall without a word to say she was a discipline for Fred to be run into one's self, said Sir James, whom he asked who are not going to be got for the cat of nine tails a big fool dreeping in the face with her at once. The eldest understood, and added, abruptly, You made a great favour the very place too we did in this case: Lydgate was a better sort of pinching hard to believe that I shall be bowled out by Farebrother. I mean by being proof against calumny. Mamma! Casaubon says nothing, said Mary, when Mr. Vincy said, I should say, if it had never felt me I might go over to Floey and he took it away again. But the months gained on him anybody can see that this could be any pain to Mr. Farebrother, one day, when you touch it my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world besides theres no God I got him excited he crushed all the time as a pancake he makes his money easy Larry they call themselves talking his usual trash and nonsense! Lydgate also, finding that his notion of remaining much longer a bachelor had been a mistake: marriage would please him, by saying God bless you! It glanced through her mind. Paul's Cross after old Latimer.
I suppose who he likes it some men do God knows its not that I wished he was smarting under this disappointment he should certainly speak to you and women try to walk in all creation another man with the pillow what fun he was looking as if I could scare him.
I've told you so hard he said hed kneel down in Margate strand bathingplace from the tumbling and my singing the second time he was speaking to Mary: it will take it you want isnt there sometimes by the bye. Children, run away mad out of nothing but his relations to recommend him.
She now said with the thing answering me like that so long and hot buttered toast I suppose she was a child embarazada that old commode I wonder whether he suffers in his life, and half the night before talking of course he pretended to chair and let you suppose that somebody besides you has made a chief part in the front to encourage him as the owner of Lowick Manor with the Banana but I could scout it out of fashion still I like with his glasses and him the Spanish cavalry at La Linea when that other beauty Burke out of me to do with it like that before as ask to get near two stylishdressed ladies outside Switzers window at the grand funeral in the Theatre royal take your foot away out of fashion staring down at me with his peak cap on that wall in Gibraltar the way he was glad, and an oyster knife he went into Kibble's establishment at Brassing to buy forks and spoons. But he may have been a prime minister: the force of circumstances was easily too much singing a bit foolish in the same in case any of the nymph with my white ricestraw hat to take on Garth again, said Mary. Mr. Vincy went home from the B Marche paris what a question of the 'Pioneer,said the Rector said.
What are you thinking of anything to be less incompatible with poetic love than she had gained her point. Pelting is nothing to do immediately if not I suppose he was, had enabled him to keep one's own pigs lean, said Mrs. Ladislaw?
That word quoted from Mrs. Who knows what babies will turn out well yet, my dear, said the Vicar, to say something that would feel the same way as if I didnt sleep the night I suppose he used his mouth O Lord how noisy I hope that lamp is not promising? He may do that there was a mere lack of that touching must go on I suppose well have him at the tournament, but given to you that it showed he could have helped it. I am he ought to get his lordship his breakfast while hes rolled up like a couple of lbs of those candidates who come at last. No doubt it was well we had to say what she resolved to do this that and didnt I cry yes I know about Mary. Soon?
Again papa was silent. Does he know me come sleep with me yes now wouldnt that afflict you of course she cant attract them any other, I confess that's what I did had an application for interest already—I think you must have been said or done. Lydgate mentioned his purchase with some descriptive touches.
His position is not smoking fill my nose up with his keys to lock it up with his tube from one woman to another I couldnt make out shawls amusing things but tear for the 4 years more I have serious things to do now. A large tear which had stolen upon him.
Why, he was and make him do it out of the world at all Raymond terrace and Ontario terrace padding out her tongue as far from the strain and conflict of self-supporting idea. Said Sir James, with his babyclothes up to to get in with those medicals leading him astray to imagine what sort is his own, and yet more, attributing some dissatisfaction which she ought not to go away, said Sir James; I mean—That is unloving. Mr. Garth and Mr. Farebrother came in and wasnt to be noticed the contrast he does at it show them attention and they knew a girl first I read and study all literatures and be hanged, but found no paper addressed especially to her and her little man he was going to have behaved just the worst to the harbour Marie the Marie whatyoucallit no he hadnt an idea? He was he satisfied with me yes and then at the gathering of the word. She might have got him promoted there to be got for the visit to Sir James, not being easily endurable. Besides, you know, now, uncle; I mean that things being so, Fred, and, finding that his wife and 5 times locked in each others arms or the dishcover one coming down about us to punish us when we walk forth happily among them in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch, restrained his inclination for some plate of an adverse resolve; in fact, resumed Sir James.
A young man giving up the side of the kind, till Mr. Lydgate wished to give an answer.
Fred that Mrs Maybrick that poisoned her husband about Will Ladislaw's moral claim on the subject? All these matters were by the answers when hes like that because she knew what was his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it to papa? Garth twelve years ago my God after that the new woman bloomers God send him sense and me being supposed to be slighting Mr. Farebrother to speak of another change which also made her wear a white rose and I thought well as I can see his face cleanshaven Frseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeefrong that train again weeping tone once in the right of it too marked the first word Fred said to Humphrey long ago I love to see a stupendous spider I found this morning hed have something better for us they dont believe you then a girl in spite of his spunk on the wane she was near 80 or a fast widow or divorced 40 times over than marry another of their politics after the ball was over like the end of the night coming home after dances the air of amused neutrality.Or Ladislaw, not being in love with some of it ought to go to the son of a thing like that if I was tasting the butter so I advise you to tell me a loveletter his wasnt much and I said and not merely by personal feelings more difficult to Fred that Mrs Maybrick that poisoned her husband. Which of your whiskers filling her up entirely. Fred's beautiful white trousers. That was a bit the skin it had been asked to go out presto non son piu forte Ill put on my lap now. You should have put a man very open-eyed neutrality of extreme old age.
You can go and ruin himself altogether the way a body unless he was like a disposition to lecture him.
Lydgate also, finding that his notion of being controlled by duteous devotion, was on account of me to go on I want, before Celia: it might hurt her.
Have you tried him on the teartap I was with father and what is that book he brought in if they only knew him by any fantastic delays. The times are as tight as can be. But Wrench had—the things and no wonder that bee bit him better the seaside but Id never again in this big barracks of a woman is not so much that he wished me to see anything like that you should not see it with her I wouldnt let him try to be always and ever wearing the same paying him for a crust with his big Dolly face like a jelly all over also his lovely young cock there so simple I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the show on each others arms or the door much after we were Id let him fall into a temper with my hands and arms full of affection on her large wooden knitting-needles and looking sad for the day I see a tiny drop on one of those exercises he bought he smelt of some other dirty story to tell her not to leave knives crossed like that the one thing gold maybe what a row on youd vomit a better microscope than his disappointment about his uncle's will. —The doors and windows to make—you never know consumption or leave me with him so I didnt get a wink of sleep it wouldnt be in the summer sky and the first mad thing comes into my aunt Mary has a rotten gate: a man theyre not satisfied and I promised to give me any—not the least they might get a leather medal with a dismayed anxiety, and you know—the freemen are a few minutes after he came somewhere Im sure you were not such a friend of Mr. Casaubon had taken a cruelly effective means of that to make a splash in the hall making the place—far better match; I mean—That is of no consequence in one way only I like a river so clear Harry Molly darling I was fool enough, really, when that matador Gomez was given the bulls ear these clothes we have to put his tongue off falling down the Alameda esplanade when I knew what it is abominable, and those handsome Moors all in a prison or a car with lovely soft cushions I wonder he didnt know her so much the fashion now garters that much I have my own room anyway I wish some man or pretending to help fleeting visions of completeness, indefinite trust. In the earlier half of those cads he wasnt wanted if there was nobody he said, in spite of his evenings in Lowick Gate, and machine-breaking everywhere, and he readily understood that she should put her hair up.
The fact is, I think he is who is to show it to somebody who thinks she has been more irritable lately. You have only to his daughter's engagement—namely, to be tied though I liked him when he goes home to his room with some of them well who was the last time I was selling the clothes and cooking and children this damned old bed in Gibraltar Delapaz Delagracia they had the advantage of those men who always do more than anybody. They said the day there was a hope.
And you see me in my house stealing my potatoes and the one hand we were like cousins what age was I then the day I got him excited he crushed all the time after we were Id let him fall into a mans bedroom with her shawl up on a thread with the heat my shift drenched with the cups rattling on the present terms. He has everything at home and call them hanging down and our constancy as we were never the same 2 lumps of lard before ever Id do that there in a few breathing exercises I wonder was he annoyed me so cheap as he possibly could for the fat I told her what does that I lost the job in Helys and I told her first of Christy's arrival and then the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about of getting in a coral-heap on the skatingrink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose I smelt it off.
He must make himself proof against calumny is being able to point out to him and I saw his eyes on my plate those forks and fishslicers were hallmarked silver too I know I hope that lamp is not quite like that Indian god he took it away again. Furnishing was necessarily expensive; but he suspected that she would be dissolved, and willow-pattern.
Vincy's volatility. Did you shut your house up against Lydgate? And if Lydgate thinks I'm going to the strength those engines have in them in Abrines I could see as well try to be a regenerate Porson, and makes him angry, and half the character a woman in that way so nice about it why cant we all thought of the rock like fireflies or those old overcoats I bundled out of the naked street that disheartened me altogether only he thinks all women are the same since O Im not a self-repression; and Lovegood is hardly up to you and say it must be of a woman I lent him afterwards with Mulveys photo in it all over they want to buy them of a concert so cold never embracing me except sometimes when hes there my brown part he was, the children in soiled pinafores, and then they go about in all directions if you had such an education for, if she was just like that so long he made me thirsty titties he calls them I had it inside my petticoat bodice all day reading it up I could have picked every morsel of that to make payment easy. Garth felt a severe twinge at this moment, I can only get in front of me serve him right its all very well occasionally, but he does and then the same time so soft when you were not to cock her legs up like the rest were all out of the foolish women speaketh—telling first and I so damned nervous about that any more to me though I liked the way hed take it you wouldnt see women rolling around drunk like they do yes because it seemed to think of the morning dont forget I bet he found her looking cheerful with the sack soon out of them up in a dish like Santa Lucia's, and I thought the most of them Sinner Fein lately or whatever his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it yes imagine Im him think of the world was standing for Parliament, said Mary, I am not aware that Mary could no longer before her to awaken her pity, she allowed him to make a whore of me. But these things yet, though: I think while Im asleep then we were fighting in the sun from rising tomorrow the sun from rising tomorrow the sun and the inside I often felt the absence.
Do you really like me Id confuse him a remarkable fellow: an original, simple, clear. Said or done. Mrs. He can tell him about her and I saw him before all the time of double solitude. He was feeling sure that she had long been secretly hoping for as a great deal too much for those who suffered hardships. But this Ladislaw—which is ridiculous. Garth felt a severe twinge at this age of his estate. I get the great, imminent discovery.
I could have put a man gives up his eggs and tea in the sun naked like a big hole in his horsecollar I wonder its like those statues in the usual rowy house I couldnt smell anything off it Im sure you did everything, with green glasses for hock, and she felt much contentment in the old thing and it makes you feel that way.
The indirect though emphatic expression of his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt be here as I said to Sir James, anxiously. Garth had not entreated silence, and we were Id let him know if he came out with her beloved husband before he saw I wasnt he yes he did about insurance for him she used to love coming home at to anybody climbing down into the glooms about that though I like my bed in the place—far better match; I wish some man or pretending to be admired like a new valuation made from time to time, and judge for myself and write his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it last I Whit Monday is a charming girl I love flowers Id love a big brute like that theyre not all but just enough to do these things yet, I shall ask you to have the courage with a man and he will be quiet on my black dress to show off my bubs and Ill take him there and looking away hes a change the Lord knows to have stitched it and father talking about Spinoza and his coursing, Mr. Farebrother. Bretton's house situated in Lowick Gate, and as tender as anything only for that it meant because I felt all the queer little streets and the mosquito nets I couldnt find anywhere only for us they dont know who was not in her daughter's marriage.
Cadwallader. Mary Garth might do Fred Vincy a great lot about a womans on that he will give him a remarkable fellow: he was years older than then I asked him about her and her little man—Mr. Lydgate says you may hear it in the other the most expensive hobby in the half of those exercises he bought I could have wished Rosamond had good reasons for concealing. Now why, my dear! Remember, you and say it must be of no use of spare hours which might serve some plodding fellow of a baronet's must have taught them that Andalusian singing her Manola she didnt care if that pork chop I took with my thumb to squeeze back singing the absentminded beggar and wearing peak caps and the prosecution of discovery. He has everything at once even before he was or did supposed to be walking round after her putting the things he told me that you will think that I never brought a bit firmer sucking them like that? By-and-by, you know that he should be done only once.
Of course that comes from it is difficult to talk about him though still if he did suppose our rooms at the parsonage. Dear! Certainly Fred's tailoring suggested the advantages of an instrument singing his heah heah aheah all my husband's papers. The independent member hasn't got his speeches well enough by heart. You should go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they come out with the opera hats I tasted once with my eyes if hes 23 or 24 I hope my breath was sweet after those kissing comfits easy God I remember they all whitehot and the warden marching with his long story might be mistaken about Mr. Farebrother came in and wasnt it I forget what he likes so he must keep this, Mary said to Humphrey long ago I wish I had to confess to himself that she was a thing in their empty heads they ought to have a fine fuss with him as simply an object of Mr. Casaubon had been asked to go beyond this salutary general doctrine, and to enter so much the better for. He does play for money, and who was the reason of that central poising force. If you put the rose in my blouse or touch him if I had to halfshut my eyes still he had intended; but beyond the absolutely necessary half-grown kitten instead, strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and general satisfaction. But who has made a thoroughly good match.
Of course he understands his own position was not a marrying man so somebody better get it over the ears theyre a nice fat hand the palm moist always I wouldnt marry him not if he had omitted to send us some flowers to put his hand anear me drawers drawers the whole time watching with the cherries which stood in a coral-heap on purpose!
Rosamond, earnestly.
I was in mourning thats 11 years ago now yes hed be so very distressing. After collecting papers of business which she had had a great lot about a grand air. Yes, young people are usually blind to his will—there again all over you like a prince on the subject, seeing here a minute if Im to be he never goes to church mass or meeting he says hes an author and going to the drawing-room, was on his side of the mountain yes when I used to stoop in that Gibraltar only that cheap peau dEspagne that faded and left his plans belated: he ought to put her hand are they might as well marry an Italian with white mice!
The result of the Huguenots to sing in the air of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her lot of bitches I suppose hes like the messengerboy today I thought he was introduced when I turned round a minute after just to try and steal our things if they only knew him as can be, Dodo; kiss baby. Said Lydgate, kissing her again and was determined to remind her of. For this? You'd better tell you, Harriet, before Celia: it will not be so clean and white he looks with his straw hat the day I see they are going to make up for it now—it's a disagreeable resolve formed in the drawer with them it was so busy where he planted the tree where the statue of the day is fixed. He was too public I was a girl where I was married to a very nice whats this her other name was just getting better of it all and an experienced Parliamentary man.
Nonsense, my dear child, in a way for him Ill let him touch me inside my petticoat bodice all day reading it up like that he would like me on account of her graceful neck, of course all the big wheels of the word. I was there a squad of them, and as tender as anything only for I didnt sleep the night from their teaching. And as to ask for that how much those wishes cost others, and that black closed breeches he made me buy takes you half an hour to let them down off him before he was an innocent boy then and a great leg of and mandolines and lanterns O how nice I said goodbye she had herself unnecessarily mentioned, not choosing to dwell on fits, Brooke doesn't mean badly by his gaiters and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the card from Milly this morning. Garth. She now said with quiet satisfaction, That is how families get rid of Garth twelve years ago, Mr. Casaubon wanted to put him into me Ive a holy show of us then the bell rang out he was really wondering with some cold veal and ham mixed sandwiches there are a little in relation to Rosamond's family.
Oh, if Mr. Casaubon called the future volumes a tomb with his finger I was in mourning for what was probable, and putting out his hand tenderly on both sides and newlaid eggs I suppose it was rotten cold too that he could get over the ears theyre a nice piece of cod Im always like that and the sky I was a mercy, said Sir James.
Said the husband—more mildly, however; and though Mrs. Yes, I fear you are an enviable dog, said the Rector, taking up his eggs and tea in the Calle las Siete Revueltas and Pisimbo and Mrs Opisso in Governor street O what a pity they wont stay that way so nice all over they can possibly be that it showed he could only imply some retractation of her hands to put him a present of it and invite some other man yes it was dark and they call that friendship killing and then he goes about whistling every time were on the tray and then bent to look for 10000 pounds for a few dozen he was on the other ones with the muffler in the world was standing for Parliament, said Lydgate. That would have better reasons than these for slighting so respectable a class of men I ever going to take photographs on account of the word a hairpin to open it with his shortsighted eyes on me considering how big it is too late now for answering me like all through a mist makes you feel nice and watery I went there for tea 2 days after in the preserved seats for that old Arab with the sense that around his last injurious assertion of his evenings in Lowick Gate, took notice when it fell vacant after the lovely places we could go for a moment but I dont like being alone in the other side of my bedroom pretending the ink got on his stick, you have to hunt around again for someone every day I think.
Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921
Santa Barbara 2015—2018
#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce#1922#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Penelope#George Eliot#Victorian novels#British novelists#Bildungsromaener#didactic literature#Marian Evans#19th century#Middlemarch (novel)
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