#speaking of which Your Fault/Last Midnight is the best song in the musical | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

libidomechanica · 5 months ago

Text

“May he whose beauty”

A Meredith sonnet sequence

First Part

And cause the other dress, and silent picture. To strikes in darke and lost. The woman is, protect thy head, whoever willy- nilly flowing an image in his auld auntie Katie upon by cynics like Water wits still break her: O my flower! But I willing in his real as a wave of your head, nor robbed in a trice from far as oak from the grange, wild, vain. May he whose beauty. What two-handed the grieved at the blade glance like a chuckle of water rushing on some we live forgot: let Rustum lay about it be stole, a songs grate on the royal word was like the gotten good to replie well could prize there whom? Is made thee such as that Life hast no dross the window.

Second Part

Is woman: there like for your windows to scared to her ribs, for not blame, ne strife: o my lips drinking; to those gossamer embryos into her bosom move? A godly ocean bed, and on the Assemblement, and heaped snow, such count of whose faire wont to leaues with shame, decide itself into thy birth to repeat how mought with tinkling strong you and bowed bene with longer flower torn from high for pittie, will climb, and crushed again: how happy as a wave of your slave, therefore the breath, whose shrouded over the bent inroads diverged in thy streams, that fly by night with a hinge. I did but swift Hebrus to late i have too many Graces! Our blanket over all thing the tree.

Third Part

And it out what parle: and yet I honour, if possible song a little Crescent moon! How many a bold erected to renew it. Suddenly face down like an old time of those who husband’s heart-string against me prop my mistress of your goodnes the best feeling grunters wrath with Eden didst see, as messengers of all that sing, as the neyghbour groue, while the much-lament and, O ye dolphins, watched as if to growled an answers quite but if he hirples than all be able touched upon Time I torture me alone in good man bespake. Meaning in extremes, stood for fruict, nor confounds great Bandogs will not forth: here are made him younge again: find the coffee grinder.

Fourth Part

I gave met you. Thoughts were had not rank mist the cruelly! I write thorn blows rained of this huge bush, when my own beat the tilt of absence, stupidity, and moan the large: how oft he lets his Dominion Strong. Of thy early or lazily fond, plight of musical: sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Fancy return, with a Loaf of Bread bene fraught his wrathful too; winnings, never, mortal Sovranty—think of nought me in passion, yea, all my flitting my threate. Out in us, I am not that proceede. And corrosive care, the braw lass made the Belov’d to thy silver branches yearning sun. He howls with woe. So bury me by someone who gave sweet and strikes their gold. By light, destroy!

Fifth Part

What could I not lovers— who last, our love. It made appearing, but now is squawking a Vessels one we love in the pow’r of a high, that does displeasured more of plain: my Love therewith, likewise I: be comfort of thee cannot be than for Pieces play. If you love to serues, to keep his hands that propitious latch, ere the blacktail dress with message and most what—and out the whilome have been among their pride to work. Like tears, panted to me. That end the speak, and very little faults, and by each strange girl: and home freshly bleed, but your neck be wroong! Double-chinn’d and the Oake to company, with theyr flock, I’d expire, that will see what shineth briers, more keenly tune?

Sixth Part

Only they will bear, the last stalled out of single ones, and this book of Verse—and give! But Juliana’s eyes, nor barn nor heart, and from the will, or Hátim Tai cry Supper— heed the orchestra warming Polly Stewart, the midnight and how sullen, and out thy mind. Yet growe. Help me! I would the weird affection came: the feeling, and in thy tress, fearing, he said, Ruined. She is, in an unswept street. Nay every noon: I pored upon the early twilight; in which in hand, now converted Bowl we called him. Stayed stay sets you for ioy he least of wonder we. What honours her wreaths against a telephone pole, and me! Ah, good way one but o’er and Sages who ruled that is it dead?

Seventh Part

As for loves; never die, the laugh’d nor wept. I laid under tower; no matter what euer I cast up from thee shepheards doen lick. Then too much enricht. What care na thy daddie, his house, far away, which in treasure first children stumbling words I flung it is just not my sweats; now an ague, the flowers vpon my skin, his broadcast over smooth dayly greater, they think the Dust depart, ioying thy new birds weep my words my day is wight: and made of everything all those who gave us in my sun-burnd bray of your hands of our faithful to the Wine you turn around plumes his sorry Scheme of callous and Tim would have love that made the hills. The lass made him that played about vs safely fedde.

Eighth Part

The Muse, and thunder’s sound with only knowe. Strangeness live the mystery of birds covet then should be jealous of the shepheards the story of the face, with his dog hote to raised help, on your leave thorns, and shore: freezing coldly when the Tavern Door agape, came sallying fame: but euer lite. Now thy birth strung each other. In my head up into Themselves reap glory, then can be made with the blast. He stormy Hebrides, when as Lowder was content, but for the fingering female heart bail; whoe’er your memory of a woman’s garment of nought I their own leave to say, No! To all love comes thro’ the young fellows, o dool on the air that of their right? If i could beauty grow deep.

Ninth Part

He hums and foul afflicted machinery, becomes a pile of thine eye of war. Marry Diggon, what is it may have drunkard. The soldier? Blossoms with Ida: she can to salute her teeth, the soundly slept the barrier like a children under the uncouth he wakes us our statuelike, between us, and oarlocks astate. Junked up into fiery heats, fainting the stormy Hebrides, which soule I dared repeat at last! Like her reade, reading, true woman: there with his Pomp abode him down. Let’s start, Not war, if you goe nye, fewe chymneis reeking yougth to sullied for the camp and vows. As his beards swayne you make me fight with daintye Daysies dipt in words to his own right?

Tenth Part

Some stricken of this is what thro’ the yielded, wroth and this was a pulse, and there quoth hence apieces plays: hither day.—For their fancies at the bonie lass made of grace and fill the Crown, and leaves in new love you by some we live and Daungers, and ’twill all boundless here whom? In me do flow, for who my side. Ah, take a misguided preached white tower springs at parle: and me! That leave my sire, who dare I quest, among the comes over until I heard, tel it straight the least deserve, that in the Bowl from head is in the sheepe on the most our desire? To shed; she flies wink at her hurried each other personal wall in the shrieked they led—a kind of shame, decides it, sdeath!

Eleventh Part

The larks from myself thy pre-existing once seabeate, will protect you from a larch, a beauty’s formed be, fearing him had beautiful house. Find, as the next is lovely sound, depopulating, and straight in Annihilations poor: that euer auaile. Smoking for Lycidas, young captain of all, and with a basket on his proudly thrust into the wept for her red cocktailed her forget till we felt, what dotted his tale. And daffadillies moue to sit in knots in sense; yet in such outrage, they draw, rot inwardly, are tired. This said, better, out on Nina Simone singing me of war What doth raise, nor tress, end in hands that the rest: whether, were in Sommer shake.

Twelfth Part

So wert thou will take thee? Flight, all the tender orphan hand ladies’ eyes, while you love one, As boys are free burgess of your ends: wee shall love of that heats as shall make a iolly hole in the same word his drooping his wrath I nursed, deliver’d from her granted? Evening, hunting that made a hardest knife ill-used doth the Door! Through the laurels, and how insane the glowing. The woman who All on Parnasse hyll, but what the fully the faithful king hand, a fragrant rose, in the grain within can be made the Mower Damon sung, with self-substance fling in the spur that he should so it is, and so wickedness called him an’ wracke, and those eight doth dissolutions, which in thy shadows.

Thirteenth Part

But in his corage hath made bleede, which do breathe? My life, that decision? With th’abhorred shears, panted to heel. Of ayde or could be told thus I would rush upon me those the best of the seconds her heads: but swift Hebrus to end: they wandering heart beat, night-long white tower; no matters of you, as harbinger in their own land make a Couch of Time. Desire in her crumenall. On the uncouth I sing wells with laugh. Hank Aaron’s care, and when you have stood for sinck. Because the same and bad! That day I e’er durst frame, and are not my soule doth lips he is, and sit beside them a’ in sarks to fill the waves; where euer auaile. To scold, those Gothic times and redress with laughter.

Fourteenth Part

Thou mayst knowing year. Made: the greenish music ceased; he snored and with the orbs between they sneer at wild civil war is in Neptune’s please, let rays of liking, camp and in her could I have the breathes my heartbreak him and all my grief, thought we were getting up to go so you and breed up her heat? Fief, in the silver, white from men I beginning rubies, pearls upon the fall! That was thine own Soul, devising sky: so rich in the riper showe? Fair Ellen stood before a transformed, at first of the Waste, one worse. Him, and changed; with ivy never dress of them in the here write, and inexhausted vein. Of Ramazán, ere thou, O warriors! Who will believer passes throng.

Fifteenth Part

But comes in theyr sheepe, when worke is chaste she did it were: nor wise; at moments afternoon, three moon that see my will send thee. I would like a wild inhabits you canst not enough in wretch, howling: she roses hate, with each one down. I did maken gayne, oft turned to me, i’ll ne’er forehead of my Julia lately wove, the law within months in thy sins are; for Lycidas, young fellows,— o dool on the screech owl to my plain and in the music hath cast, which that mole by his said, Prince—we would let out to grasp this firebrand—gentleness give me invite to serues, to furnished to me, i’ll cross, gets the street and I felt her none, for all now not wish for time’s wasted with a hinge.

Sixteenth Part

Eyes have been momentary. Ah, fill or mend the shepheard, there shak’d the much the Daughter’s Shop I stood along since our second spreading branch thoughts more like the relieve what the doors of the World, and with thee this, and fight all that oft suffer the roses, roses foreclosed in honde, that greatest comforted: have been the shells before he’d call, and which thou art gone, from whence thought, can live drink! They knew name then the beauty, like a wild morning, throw a fool to fancy i have too many question with me alone a Gods great Pan bought I their glittering female hear me and he could see to those who subtle cargoes lie. That kissed it hight, yea, all the myster sway, for thee, Cynara!

Seventeenth Part

Through that our weeks, I dare him down. Was but come as the Potter, pray, since our marriage, and when Phoebus strong, and long have gone, from a sip of her, king, ’ I said, an’ made the street other’s cloak from a larch, a beauty’s veil doth ouercome my ioye shepheards Tityrus in bliss, thou so weakenesse, who dare not peace, all her grove where doth fall? And nowe I won you most our claim: if not plain and beginnings: for the same a shadows and call, and froe, enaunter his knowne gayne, driuen for a noble verse, sound like a light well; only though in words I flung roses hate, which wexen clear, the swart start, while; moment, step afternoon, three weekday weather, gentle warbling scarfs and leave, for the cellar.

Eighteenth Part

And in a crescent hand waive you like the birds and our music, am banishing. And prest, have dreary’s the last embrace. About his heavily from all the gaine, and successful clutch after me forhaile. A basket on his foolish old Khayyám, and ease. But I lose naked Armes streak the lusty greed but as fair guerdon when my leaves less fairies take something make and loued here: why not know from woe tell the crash of spice the point myself the day in bed. Of flowe. Slides over the was the certain stakes I gainers such frosty rime, they list aduised be, if asked what the sphere are your history. As if thy glimmering postures new got to pluck your eyes be enviable.

Nineteenth Part

In the spring, and her tongue aspire to wag their gay wardrobe weary car, like the sharpened the meadow kit foxes crave the less that cheek wet with shepheards sich, God mought her which she has but a little child short, and stoopegallaunt Age the bed to be looks that wrong holy feet to the color on this learne; thinke of war. This, whilst thee the lofty rhyme. And seemed to follow she is beauties shines in secrete wise; at moment seemed to me, i’ll ne’er forget: the deuill at her try, where and paine, find somebody die? Masked what command angry for one hundred: so kisse the bride, he repent his from the bed to me, i’ll ne’er was it sat in three weekday weather—still construed from behind.

Twentieth Part

I do but envious horoscope to hand, now I may grow, if not playe, of ayde or counsel of thy silver deathlesse pate. In that my girl remember how thy words, or I missay, both grown boy, with many things when he whase arms shall losses and leave there, like feeble age, he claim: if not deserues, that it so red the way but think what they will morn, we drove him is flatt. On to compasse rownd. I can’t stops you make mad the blames in that night, if in my fashionable. All forced old man! So while now thou kenn’st from off each beaked promontory. The with gallant Prince, and in an amber cracked an empty bottle across the glass of the Throne bene falls it thee requisite.

Twenty-first Part

Its halved pit unfold from Káf to Káf reach trifle under towers, eyes of Ayes and ever from the forest of woman’s good, Christendome: but euer auaile. You said, and so they call freed from the Belovéd, fill thee what deity. Nay more full break her: strong to cutte there, to lag behind: return, Sicilian Muse, and fire; she yielded up with lying at the bed to sell he liue tyll the Cup, and me, and there is nothing spoke and maken a Mart of me: the Bird of Night and do not sleep with his words where apart. Thou was when we fell down, the sinews o’er again: at which may not rank with my Emma lay; and I was then, in theyr flock, that waketh, and of Time for me?

Twenty-second Part

The best from the harbrought. Others not: and Bahrám, that once depart where smoulder it was never speak, or stir, graceful all my paine, I soone would never wilt, I know: whether on till it straw, the lower that grows, sighing, she shoulder in her truest from the idiocy or greedy licorous sencelesse all hem about three cherubs drawn in a mirrors that this said, the law within Thee. Go; but many a thing imparted, may return, Sicilian Muse, and all the Snare I languish. My please, did but sense; yet in evening, hunting lowe in shady steals along, half so dear. Is innocent! Let that has caught through Satyrs dangle down through all the Quarters of sweet!

Twenty-third Part

She musk-rose, and so will tame? Each shall see not destroyed. Set off the church and why not? Will he lies, but yields: my Lady in heard, too cruell fate, and on the hyghest Ioue, and all this learn’d aught mistake. And bubble blows from the Seed: yea, the name, and Come! If wee must confesses in the soyle, then ceased; he snored and shake. Grace, were in her at the question stroke, and put it be bound up she lightly pale, lost repose, but sae that had bredd, and pity of that decision? I have both to my liege Lord, stirring and sae lordly; but weake sometimes of Neæra’s hair? If not plaint proceeds, that I drave among theirs as thee shepeheards sich, God mought with the Genius of their Worship of Thee.

Twenty-fourth Part

The rare entertain state the sinews o’er; and all this the lofty tree, sacred majesty shed, and all them. But the blue crab from behind your peace which is mantle hair was transfused in Lilly white farmer of those wage is dark, that sweet with ill-used doth again. On a state the brooks, through the last asleep twelve hours and Bahrám, that give than the world was born in a poppy from her sleep. Later I leaves of art. And Humbleness this, which I could not a blast. I know not thy shadowe seruewe his sleep on the wrinkles which shall catcher’s graves give—and given to some majesty; and the rest I glory die. The mouthed grass. For love. Before him to much thy vestal, Heav’n, they worth it?

Twenty-fifth Part

A sweater blows swerve in the fifty on a sty, glorifying climbed highest was Arac: all about my vnrest, that Time and sick of ancient Rome or Green fledges their dead: she meadows, where the pale sickly the elevator where you may be myself into the will right it’s gonna be alright meet in some from her set Design a- foot with gallant instinctual fear of night to her plan; i’ll cross that once her rosy lips, and the Oake, for you the passed anguish in. Two happiness no second toe a little talk to each evening, now, well-bred men—and you spoke and I long whitened their open further walk by my gude luck a Fibre; which soundly shadowing cranck.

Twenty-sixth Part

Which I bleed, yet still seemde but thus mellow’d to taste. To change now is squawking a younge again, whom not the flame plan foursquares, which we leaves; I say, sun’s deeds—this Egypt- plague of men’s defects sought aymes and ladies’ eyes, thou prove that you shalt not rank with cowslip-water dewe. Naked in a woman’s wisdom of better burnished my mistress. From thy heav’nly born. Called on thy train, I lament, receiv’d into an oval, squares, and no other tongue it murmur ran through the sudden light his leaves; I say, nor all your sorrowed, where shepehearde more, but die by losse to his Lord, stirred. The war; shall I tell your leaves tipped with the thou may be alright had laboured within Thee.

Twenty-seventh Part

My hearts than the note of its teeth of canvas led three paces measured more limbs the mould in favourites by cared to me, when Nature thunder’s soundly shadowe serues thy loss to all new techniques for a Song. Of weather, the first lov’d is presume to overthrow of love’s austered, wins, thou know, an image picture. Another, throw, enter brauely euerywhere had worth wits, and the cragge so stanck, ere Roffy is wise, our lov’d to talk; and but for me, the lofty rhyme. I have done they sell. To the wind’s imprint of Reckoning sich. Did find that blows. So darke the more. But the bitter, pray, and am beloved where you can, for so to die that we shalt thou thy swete layes.

Twenty-eighth Part

Muse with lucky words have been mooted, but she, with th’abhorred shape, her she went: the rest mount—The Head worn them leaue the rich ore: nor with glad moning, passed, the trumpet blared at the seat through the object of a Caitife worth with myriads more of steel and prospers; and again, only two bulks at Arac’s side grew a bragging my great hunt: but lack of woman, and with his words. Good brothers feet to repayre vnto his knee, for it, and mochell mast told, how Sultán how I was drench. Her dress of the horse to work. But, like the World to where thou was what deep wound— for the sum of your desire: I thought me hearts upon it, he comments doen hem about it be bounds wyde: vntimely sleep.

Twenty-ninth Part

I let my chiefe light. I curse, to crowned twins may give that wish I were fix’d; the blew and did yields, and greefe adawed, the way she fingers into her breath. But if thou see more pleasured from hands of farewell. That night it take so right his plaint. Fearing was ten, skinny, red-hot iron hills roll the third But then to gard. Of public grief of life—immortal muse thy train scatter the morning, and seems holds the way to frowne. Old I am lonely, Boys! With love? Why should brass with Ida: she meal. I sent beneath the plaint proceede. The day shift, joy reappear, and gainst me good wife, worth with her outward forms that poison foul contain cleft where and Wilderness of a Host, nor for whom?

Thirtieth Part

Spring floods which that all their wilinesse? End in our evening run, yet rather, willy- nilly blowing. The Winter the grief my eyes of sweet your dog-chewed couch, and touch of Earth descent had been working now I fear, his way the curious Lord that wrongs; I seemed,-than the less. When there, my blossom, ah, yestern bespake: o Elenor, weak proportioned thy selfe them grows in cloud, flaying in this althoughts serene of hottest Sommer shadowy brook the Caravan in thy cruell showe, the same a shadowing cranck. So he had glutted his with hammered upon thy head she would study the was far more-for scorn, and without as thend of Old, which thou not nearer to thrust in bed.

Thirty-first Part

When the night all make heed, dead her longing; begin, and satyr; whence my decay, when tis to give disquiet, then with that hath not mute, temper’d too far; but, below. And turtle ones, their aid: they who never happy region be than she said, but, till they draw from the thriue, all forth with the blacke bowe, brake on all Kent, new; you were wonne her house and must be myself corruptible death, which playe, of sovereigntee, beneath though we dashed his iron blunter gan to gathering though harbengers of dark. To caroll of Life to lovelorn women, soldier’s: yet she has also theyr flocks astate. That out to plaint, caused of weeds, but space where the accursèd duke! Yet waile the fires blaze.

Thirty-second Part

Tell me where for they bene falsehood, in their love yon slope of my lips billing and speak give merrily, and—in the running Painter’s Shoulders of your lov’d is presume to Polly Stewart! By praising of decorous sences, beauty; and I sawe thy rich ore: nor windows glazed with children born every my soul between a cymballed on the other nine time did not to bits— and then his dunghill, crown upon the surface the refrigerator. That graffed to Roffynn not be said, Alas, ye’ve ruins to try for humor without elucidation For we were Hobbinoll, as God mought him on claims as rise and Lip the sigh’d, and their dead: fair hair and cannot hear.

Thirty-third Part

The hugg’d it to haue I wote ne Hobbinol, mought with his worst fear I would like a station answer, in answer as we rode the Base. The Ball not his with due respect, and staggers into eternal fate, dost throat in youth. Lake in words my day like a questions where you complaint procession and fringe of longings of weeds, but all well-bred men in pass, instead I sawe thy sins more- for stronger, and not, after supper, that cheeks. At once they be yellow wood, and touch of The Fire of that can mine only theyr foldes yeeld at the best of discurtesie? With rod and Kaikhosrú forgot, nor decay, where was a cast-iron pot. Friends hid in death! But reality distracts her.

Thirty-fourth Part

As if I should be, forstallen hem of another—Surely not his sorrow where is caution, most pity. When a woman’s art. Out in many things are dropp’d into this hopes do cary. She veiled her quickly the king that scarce the stealing steppes do cary. And all they hadn’t yet mine discredit of their glory die. With a hinge. Now sleep; when there were terms for love lose my ears: how he’d called to change now is squawking absence haue lorne the sole men set the Lizard stroke, and came Spring against the Goal, over thro’ Heav’nly gift to clothes on the requisite grip, angle and tumbled mixt with you see that night it thee are tired of joy and love. Weary evening slowly they sell.

Thirty-fifth Part

For they quitten into this knee, for ioy he lets his dungeon straine, to leaue that kept with the morning fall, and He that cheek they say this with the bed to challenge eyes should hate that will not so; I loved so clear spirit, with an unswept streetlight, when the words where beate vpon a king’s right we Diggon. Stifling in Diana’s strength of canvas led threading, o heaven to your one hundred I weep the River’s Lips are cover ever complaine for the wings and rill; together beames, who goes? Twas once more! The mornings and in her small red wounds breaking, for nature done this—When, start will seemde but thus. And begins to those who doth not my scythe I loom to it. Your old barke abstracts her.

Thirty-sixth Part

Colin, to fill me thou, Mercury, assist my tears is raking from which we Phantom Figures child cry where euer I wist thee assay with the Spring! Till the distant Drum! A kinde of the sight? Into the lips and wipe the Realm of Yún, and such hail, such conduct neither who knows about his sorrow to his Supremacy. When he wild horn in a land of echoes, and to thee such aureate heart made for a Song. Blind moulds such sleet, and there three to the Heads of the Soul scatter’d into the grass and praying, this Wolues, as themselves reap glory and love you but you know you have been a very quiet joke. She walks in his graves give the grownd, and fingers of sweet not removed.

Thirty-seventh Part

You, kneeling branches more to the lips and beares, that the grained, a followe flying the Snare I languid breeding our frail as flowed so low dejected look—I leaned againe. Make your dream: and his stable; and yielded, wins, thou know a wander mountain, thou, sweet sculpture did my spired, or else I fynde: they sat, she roses of them as he went. Our blanket over dear to counsell can, if we fail, we fail, we fail, we fail, and o’er the day to beare blest. I know you had’st with a heart outgoe. To unwind, whych Adam lost. His Authorizing that with laughter: fail you requisite. Of Kaikobád away through the Sea, that Fate conspire to mountains; long since, she means daiquiri.

Thirty-eighth Part

They were beaten with fraud and sting on while these affection flies with flowretts bene stars! Thou know not widely as breath gently to smite once. Listens to thee, hence, she will to live laborious quill. And saw the ground Love’s angers of Ayes and Osiris thought, or quiet to renewing smiled a drunk, kick up a riot, nay every way before him do a’ the yeare. Then Gama swamped thilk same rule were hammered upon the old women, soldier-city, till the blushing off ordinary wanton winds, and, having discouer whether is best feel the top, and drawest throbbing me do flowers vpon their little by in languisht with thy nervous verse, and beaten hyde, all in watched.

Thirty-ninth Part

I wish no less vivid. This island of pride I thinke of still fayrer Fortune doth lie, yet I looked, the found, who, sleep with wide oppen the East, that Loues selfe, and waited the world, but thinking: and now at thy worthy to what can you throughly roote of it. As twere mute among the rank with Predestined coucht, make comfort of state the flower of these, how happy man, and tooke out to Salámán did obeisance, and said: Because it might not have done: mine eyes. Is thin, delirious; hearing again and definite Pursuit of This and shades away, if this gentle clause take not those eyes in a car, like that to that has but combination of your bloody cloth unfold it!

Fortieth Part

For in the old king, ’ I said, Ruined. Shall prize the Road; but feeds none to Spouse. Them by a concourse ne’er the woman, who Man of bison still contagion spread, where and daffadillies fill me fit for the harmless snake I brings in perfect music, which arise from hands. And brushed and rose that decision? What can apprehend dumb harmony with many difference. Ease. Wrong, and lifted head and the selfishness was mine enemies; declare that waketh, and all maskes my woes increse, my life—immortal serenely spired, or marriage is darker ways. That in the embattled squadrons of day where thou list aduised be, for Lycidas sun beginning; but in distress.

Forty-first Part

I took my leave to sleep, think and we are your Reward of comfort is sipping the Winter Garment his clothing—Oh, makes up and charming Polly Stewart,—o lovely Head. The woman, in the glass to kill, and that is thine—and sound, toward part, his battled die. Silly man: there we would have learn this garded be, for pay. A sheepe about her lap did seemes ease in the Face of love.— Turning what throbbing me seems I heard sittes not peace. And the Chrysler building might not a Step nor some, nor on the one nearer because knowes no step after a thousand husks of Spring to combat for a noblest kingdoms meek of house under the curious career homestead, and grass.

Forty-second Part

And fayne is farre: I though I oft myself, Is he picked ways. Lo Collin, her sleep. They boasted storm. With greater, when fancy i have I not love of yourselves a work nothing so low tract of such strange ribbon in a trice from me; darkness holds the grassy mount—The Heads on my head last, that just maybe you can, so semest the blue candle- light—swear it—sdeath! Ah, fill with holy feet his pith, the waves; where else things end in arms in lonely, my darkling teeth. Asking, but slanted to me I kisses might came long sing. Nor whom those Gothic times with eager thou, thyself a weede him an’ wracke, as long I will not my selfe them at that graffed to bark, built a fon, now conversation.

Forty-third Part

As killing somewhat love, or answer, or the mother innocent! Tradition of the worse. Nor wish’d nor rewarded. For whom for thought of the Fire—even now my petals twain the good, give you by you cannot chuse but that inhabiters of war. ’Tis death: and there’s no dream where to renew: for making three. Is so meeke, wise, what the subtly wroughten the brooks transformed be, if asked and Kaikhosrú forgotten ghosts, turning sun; and look’d for every wears dropt in words.—The bonie lass than all bushes vsed to badd, and of the image picture done to her three stars danc’d, and striking thus condition as if the same. Would be no more; drop like to be Lords of earthly years hence.

Forty-fourth Part

But when I love allowed, when theyr sheepe, for the cat in thy fairer charms, by glimmering home, the clear spirit, wit, nor wept. Shrink. Will climb, in the crown from right: such civility, and love. All thou art, bold bigge, and in her brightness past that of this proude weede his own Phaëton. Each trifles are filled him, and are not do, thou art! Alike foolish marble busts in the Dust of that can not be cut down from themselves pain, when from her— betrayed too fast. She kisse; but what a torment his thin, now the eastern hills, whilst the West. And thou thy soft piteous plighted shrine! White heart, o charms possess’d on this first fraternity of nought that April morn and how this battle, lisping of selfishness.

Forty-fifth Part

I turn to the conceit of these poor bride of us i am on the sight to her swayed, all for the martial fuel, making hath his lip, to peinct thirst for a year; nor dare nought we were nurs’d duke! To sheathing alien in thy with cries, fools! Heard war-music, am banished the fire where shall, soon, dost traverse part to me, and cruel. Then watched as if thence that you opened the can be made them down: and ball, for ignorance to a hemline. Eyes, least they were the evening, and sae lordly; but bound, whoever was days go by, still the heart be his whispered jest to have been the grammar of that lights of great deale worth wind wash off. Not justly the World to catcher’s hands and idle Joan.

Forty-sixth Part

Twenty add a hundred favorite aggies. Of the paine. One year. The bare; her brow. When in passing points, and with mutual risk some fountain-top, to peinct thir girlonds, washed to me, sayne, but them not, nor brere, for the universe. Bad luck on the large: how she move? Right—but needes decaye. And thou, continuaunce. The tree, sacrednesse reward of curtesee, and noblest forget till the Canterbury bell and in the Snake: for Death with mutual pardon it; and the grain of freedom broade, and straight little ease my selfe content to make those, the image picture. In us, and move; they ne’er forget: the dead you remain as its steads, ylike and thrust like smoke go up the lass made it ill.

Forty-seventh Part

The Moving roar: but priuely prolling starre seemeth to Geb and corruptible death lodge till their Mouths are play: name it I would beauty’s rose a cry as if thy glass of the Princessant care to tender churl, make merry with fall? And I shall He that made the tender span of his herself, whilst systers nyne, when she says, I would cry. They love is thy perfumèd garments; let us not played aboue all, and who couth: but how them doe learned below, turning fall, that eyes, when the shepheard sittes not I plants increase are windows glazed with a wild inhabits you may building in civil be; gif ye will not act, or lives in the others use, while the whispers of all that dance was pledge?

Forty-eighth Part

And Heaven-ward Foot shall prize so dear might unusual heats, fainting stormes, his high way, the way before getting chance did into Gold transfused in the watching three. Her grow old aboue all, and to thy speche, then would not to move in our noble vertuous commun course from other puir Jenny for such, as well maskes my hearts that thro’ heaven, by magic, ghosts gliding. Man is to giue the Muse here, to raungers, she lies buried once love;—or brother was daye light’st flame, nor what is a murmur’d—While rolling there those who has wished to flowers shall see us forced to me, let alone could say, have stood and ladies’ eyes, that swallows so rash as rise and still my past, I sigh of parcells make.

Forty-ninth Part

But thou never, mortal looks like tender of his shady leaues, that hath gain’d of Royal Augury was rescued from the less, had ne’er renew it. That latest come attonce. Nation make herself a lawful voice cry they call hem all it bee that night in every Begin the faces, with rod and that vernal your one plant divided into groan for the sea; you know, I thinking denies. The Muse, and wanted, nor laugh o’er thy perfumèd garments; let us divine, is not of the sun a land of echoes, and still you long; I had espye: they makest to some Strip of Heaven to gaudy day denied the woods. Clears to-day be sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Burning them doe loue to die.

Fiftieth Part

That it fades away, this realme of my minnie to sea against myself a lawful notes are slick-faced. Bearable: pennies sewn into his knot, by gentleness to such eeking your eyes: thus mellowing creatures need a hotel room. That oft the expect them if To-day prepare, most humble at thy celestial king head of yourself in our compared, sun-spotted back, which cruddles the stal, is not played on a side, and then here is a bold brere, nor bussed this I know, I think their faye. That Tim would defiance, wheresoe’er keeps me, let us light wi’ a kiss, I would have met youth in its little child? Tale, nought nor what your books, and when it shows me where your soul devoid of fear.

Fifty-first Part

All in my dream milk burned for jealous thou Desirest from woe to feel thou taste that has caught through the eastern hills, and shining sky: so though dashed in lazy tolerance, and flowed the flame withered lies. Found the better just Káfir that flower than new Bloom, ourself be dazzled by, and send such as thou place ambitious empires throng: I took the hyde the bewitcht with you, Sir! We planted word. Or Diggon. Smooth as the Sultán with the sence, trampled the trees, with sad eies I their cheriping, with my own hand, but of mind; I thought of false, and dies, thou born at thy beauties shines in the lofty tree, cut down, the sun went ill or mend the windows of planted Sword. Shade doth remaine.

Fifty-second Part

I claps’d her she whole as something the pathlesse Rosalind, and o’er thy would catchen his sheepe that for truth enlight shade of maybe it’s not Wisdom of thy Tears wash my though love solemnized occasion I know she can say that might not for Stellas name: as thou art! All her father that one by one more, for which waves of childe to compassed by drink jeered at a chair was his dungeon strops of sweet will to like! Or taint- worm to her brows, and pierce heat the Bowl did I know not what, badde the way that I write my louer? Guess I figured to badd, and slays, and, while I run repent; my best peak on my skin, his rome, where are not traverse of my Robe to Heaven reflected to me.

Fifty-third Part

I would definite Pursuit of Things are. Were passes through for me. It’s a kind of— as it so red the Right—but need a hotel room. Thoughts of Fate, sunk thoughts sere, I come back. Passages walking of love, some melodious time thereto I strive. When he said, better when thou will flip, let me walke not have lovers. To give disquiet, the shpheards bene the peopled ark the wind’s imprint of canvas led thread-bare Penitence at pleasures for love is an accessary needs no one else I fynde: tho would I wene behest, save where who has the fond visions as they came. Must descend, to raunge their tunes, you causes or gotten ghost, the questions under stops of various quill.

Fifty-fourth Part

End in thunder-storms, and the fewer Woolues the soth together, fiercely sent a brace of twigs and from sacred hands: before we grew and disconsolate and he his elbow, says, I wanted words favoured both the Cock crew, thou, then rush’d past, howe he venteth into the Ruby yields, where’er to thee, dearest placed war him here remains and Bayona’s holding in timely sheepe, as the least the music of a pitch where entertain, though I feel thou shall know, to ken thence the sword, all the garded man vsed then if ever, mortal serenely spent: for truest fruits of Fate; and they are cover by this fix’d on thee. A man is herself a lawny firmament thy words, or wrong!

Fifty-fifth Part

In sure while by in after-time, while she sat in front steps. Draws the ascend, and rudely dream that next she doesn’t company, with furious courtesie; I bow’d fu’ low unto Thee—take turn’d up to drinke nectar drink in trine. Them that see my will not have no rain to fall, and my nursling new is in us, who knows: but tells the sinews of an evenings are. So lost her made banked first Morning the Woolfe were getting a famine where’er to the self-same hills, and Cyril seeing it because the snatch’d the uncouth swain to survive. And her wi�� a crazy auld man vsed the here under eye, double- chinn’d and a job having written, unload my budding next self bring, disarmèd of it.

Fifty-sixth Part

A small goodman shrink. On Cupids bowe how supreme, a ghost, since in me downe, is a simply human to some with my greed but asking, What Lamp had thee: or sicker thy pale, lost Travel, girded up with cold season gave, and how supreme, a goodly Oake cast him to his Lip went in the windy jest had come wild the times and strike an old passion, yea, let alone its pedestal, all forth with enuie, yet rathe primrose or foul of Man is blacke bowe, brake on all the hyghest more the rolls impotent spell. Though we dashed his imaginary walls with catapults, she wrongs, and see the milking-maid, nor has always with the Oake, for leaning all agrin as at a chart made me rich.

Fifty-seventh Part

Take her know, and with the accursèd duke! Last calculating the second two hours, I wanted daily life. Not to sing invincible our statues, friezes, columbines have to say, No! Sense that the door stands victories of the horsemen. Later in that sunk upon her is best of drifts into your moisture heir. Which I new pay as if thou declare all that deity. Many meete tales of day: but one by one children born every captains flash the city. And sleepe in lillies mourn half-right be in loves; never give up the mountain bend? For poets feign, batt’ning behind you goe nye, fewe chymneis reeking hand, alas, thou Sound like tear their echoes of Neæra’s hair?

Fifty-eighth Part

The Grape that sike fancies were all they mought line I sued the cup to that here had designated great. And but keep the River’s path. But do not so; I loved you goe nye, fewe chymneis reeking youth in haste; your arm. Where Deva spread; beside a long oblivion is sleeping brere we to me. Only could I seal. The name? My lord was large and death’s diurnal course I take, as messengers of all, and this said, thee memory: but yielded, wroth and then my friend, and with honey dew. Heat, and no Key: there it but most dere. The thou liggen in the stub of her waist, and singing my sable shroud! Whom Juliana stung! And therefore another day! The Grape my fading the Pot?

Fifty-ninth Part

What through all bushes vsed to me, the bottom of better the man loves a mansion. And with the year was daye light, and slays with the kitchen table of their christall fauld the ground his head, sweet with pricked up because the mother never came halting the unimaginary wanton winds displayd, but for once esteem me, against a telephone faire, ycladde is the garlands fade the mart from the authentic mother praise; naming rimes and life melts with the footmen didst see, bene as from thee requite. Very lonely way, this Woluish sheepe about vs safely fed, where Jamshýd’s Sev’n Thousand husks of breeding on the same lovers ever. Midas they stopt his piteous stem.

Sixtieth Part

’St creatures complained the blessed shades, while Death with wailing for Lycidas is decayed, his be hel-driu’n from cause knows: but tender heir more be seen to have, has plan, and even dead, forget her own leave thou would. ’Er renewing smile did the kisse, what day shifts, which as in his own rage this memory, I watchfulnesse, for none regarded lords with rocks: part and hoary wyth Muses moe, do such an one else I fynde: they that Hank Aaron’s care, winter, city, till that has they had be buxome and the top appears behind your gifts apply, as his hands before getting up in her verses darken’d; like a falling rings from fear, for nature sweet society to dash thy fond, plight.

Sixty-first Part

—Think their answers quite dim, and with her had love in its smooth and rudely drest: thy louer? Ringers of throats would my Reputations, it fades, our bodies fill the lass that I be call Things divine, since my thoughts sere, I come as goblins in the clear streams along, far from the Hunter of his Secresy; stirr’d not take a new, and thimble just poured lies. None finds her heart that I can; he’s doylt and truth, eternal youth. That Youth’s beams. Man forests. And where the tallest chick pushed the Player goes; and waile the morning Eld another died, or ere I nigher beauty she saw hypocrisy designed, and in the must we be bold, the harbor it’s nothing at the more if thou desert rove?

Sixty-second Part

While rolling bones are lockt; but her hair, and wicked Wolfe lowder hast with me the flocks, and fill the door stand die. Become the tomb shall fling: the small: little ease, how happy draught well attir’d woodbine, with pity no more deserues, the cold season from your wit. Mute among the Realm of Yún, and what she can I drove him young did encroche, and, when we saw the gates, and fountain cleft whereon followed his poem, There grew a branch, thou art but that wander mountains, and sold them if To-day prepare, a Muezzín from the new name and give your first, with briers, more poor he didn’t even know you see, each gripping a famine which wexen old passion is like to truth proves a work and his throng.

Sixty-third Part

Viewed from wound in his can you to meet your sleep with too much rebuke and barren rocks; of lands in the rout of what thou wilt not be stole, and the noise of shall sound, and so stiffe and heavy changed; with now the pure delight. Wine comes in a clench of dawn the bed to horse to count you at all: a commend; so never chose out the Challenge answer which thought vs many and the shpheard a devil curse tear, and slender orphan hand, seek’st the cat in that with thou withdraws the World or Nation’s Waste, I know the mellow’d to the nape guess I will tell and in arms, by glimmering points of May is evening.— My heart is the garter belonging somewhere he rode we to my pass that two crown’d.

Sixty-fourth Part

It’s fun what name I keep the street can nowhere among the field, wherewith the hearts up his burning field alone the spar’d for many Graces! Shall take that I honour. As garments whereon the air was drenched his old bought nedes be hel-driu’n from the dun forests, hath made him an’ wracke, for the more ye myrtles brows, and, having still, and said, the bed to see, beating thee how the piping Péhlevi, with Time for vnknowne falsehood, in sure while, going pleaseth me; or let her hands which looks as we. And twists the needeth to charm that Wise Man forests, vouchsafe your best peak on my friendly sheepe, as in the painful was in Ithaca or he howls with incessant care I, war or no?

Sixty-fifth Part

These offices, sighs, tears always with new spangled evening. The day: but that graffed to follower than they wandred I wene be his outward peace, whose lawns beneath huge trees of the sting so lately seen, and twists they make those clothed with Eden didst make the rose the Two-and-Seventy jarrings fresh ornament and, right and heavy with his was a Dogge to bereave my eyes I’d known that art not, thought wind it be bold, that is at moment lies beside a star in hay. That of Jove doth not the stream on a woman! And, in the rosemary we leaves engraine: semed,-than this wonder oats foraged in its ode inside here beare: which I found no other, adopted to me.

Sixty-sixth Part

She is more be seen before that you were given the sea. Ah, poor humor with the beach is the pleasure, but the rolling to heare not: this the pride, spread it done: mine ear, we parts will. Look to the wat’ry bier unwept, and then his own selfe escaped the Idols I have as it spake but my arms. Disclosing the zits that sith I held, and, whych Adam lost. And the lass made the head, who taught, and either delight, the watching but a little tunes attemper right: and ours shall we fell for hymns divided into groan ran the grain with a songs sake. That sparkles their dance was sprung in triumph where thou art taught surpasse, vnseene, as these lines had struggle forth three child, its amber of him thanck.

Sixty-seventh Part

For thou deserts our books, and we are spreading mission is sleep to deck her Dame, and less; though deface the sun a land of echoes of allied for his rine, his thy lewd tale I think our mother’s taut thrice as ours with either morning floods which loose or used to me, the big white, and ’twas—they’re boring it, of Sommers flaming rills we traverse my ears: how high! Ah for the poor they con to his dunghill, crowing cold splintering porticos which, half so fair thank our son, whom Juliana’s eye in his Reign A Sage, when it would I hurt her the strength renew: for fight within the Close of Ramazán, ere the cote, or low, along, far from a sepulchre, and as happinesse rewarded.

Sixty-eighth Part

I can, to make those who subtle cargoes lie. Called himself find when he will cruelly! But that you, heart bail; whoe’er shepherds came a postscript should see a wave of Justice, confounded, Ellen stood and wrinkles which the presents, fast asleep twelve hours of the golden opes, the night, doe make on us at our camp: we seem a nest of which she has died, or ere I made the murdered presents less? The grasshoppers seek it; this fire and daffadillies fast bars to plaining since our moist vows flee away! She took my way, but yielded, wins, thou like as Peacock: but how to scold, all love the hoste of Empires them by a path not the last divide my hearth: but you out that my fashion.

Sixty-ninth Part

And even sustain some inmate the moon— cold walls of the wine. In the earthy mind. Though which waves in anything in complicated many a threatness. Where Jamshýd and look—I leave my eye in his grandame Nature.—My heart to my louer? And the wind’s imprint will burrow in arms, by glimmering pretzels drinking. He that none came: king, feeling you always and sick of many thing through the dark heart. Being—let they hadn’t seen, in beauty. Avian, to make her delights of ever, mortal serene of their dwell, I often wonder orphan hand, and tellen our weeks, I dared repeat at large privilege; they to kneeling prey. What else can the laugheth once love thee them till.

Seventieth Part

The horse, or a while the after stept, took the object of savage caring battle warbling each other’s curse the tense—how she thing missive nuptial song, in their beards would tell me first children are turn’d as, buried Ashes—or it hight: with Heydeguyes, and merry without pity till on paper I remember sweet mouth and truth, eternal fate, dost thro’ the days. She is in my dream myself might pittie, wil ranke Winter gan to sell he liued, was my childe, fledde, dyed in lusty brace of twigs and red, the call’d his weapons lay, glad if for painter’s wheel. Foursquare to worke me oft to leave thy hands he did not an ideal it’s gonna be alright that—he believer passes thro’ me?

Seventy-first Part

More, more, and emerald, shone the scene more be stairway against my head, each beaked promotion clung the Winters that I can’t stops you see that, and threw him: last asleep. With death—and with dearth by spells are playing liue you again, she moat, stifling in jest; and wayling, and Cremsin reddens what could Fate conspires. Truth enlight doth dark land inwardly, are tired in, and strikes on thy loue of their doctrine, the morning pent in some one nearer because the bed to fair peace which thus invaded, sdeath! Where to opposition and sang a sweater grow old about, being blossom-fragrance is in these hurts are borrow, to quite awrie, to changed; with a Loaf of Bread bene.

Seventy-second Part

The primrose that, withal, manners may guessed? Marry Diggon areede, why she brooks too were she says, Ours is a bubble blow, a heart is silence thy husband discouer whether in these the yellow Cheek of joy and nowe vpright inviolate’s the silken priestes crewe, and another sex, and of tinkling forests, hath made wretched strain, an early twilight; each the grave. On a woman he’s dozin, his restrain, I curse their moral and shove away, if like brothers, to where your prowess, Arac, worthy of corn such noble mind to scold, all force threw him: last was Cyril, Yet I pray take coffee, open lay with ill-used doth euer my In the lass that this gently, far away.

Seventy-third Part

Passionate women foot so deadly swannish music rose a little whilome vsed to them all of us we could Fate consequence of Man; amid this, where seemed the Porter’s Shoulders of thys so wicked eares? When most of death issue forth and line fall, and fayne is the shepheards, that the cote, all in on your charms—who last, of thy silver, and on those like a nose forests, vouchsafe you clashed your one pierced his pryde to come! Into her, lift up your fair leavened am thy budding violence, that I can say easily I know, knowledge in a Trice life’s Liquor in the day in spreads her head, and the harte. ’ Be comforted: have a frowning finders-out of the luck alone.

Seventy-fourth Part

Thus nothing lists were wilt thou permission— for the moon. And worthy of content, but you who am I …? For stroke the primrose of Light kindle to see the fountaine, and help, and knit in knots in her fray or two before I swore—but was then and ev’n my boat with whom remorseful Cyril told thus delay! And then for so to die; yet waile with his woman-sloughs that once lovesick land the grace rule, while quacks of love. In earth, I like the sang all the fruitfull flocks for pleas’d with the car a good nor rewarded. They wouldst thou lead the long oblivion is like prest it on thee, perforce am thine own Soul, devising shall take so right on a burdenous smart. From behind.

Seventy-fifth Part

Made all over the level brine sleek and the subtle Alchemist thee howe he venteth into my mother wit we get away from the little talk to ease in rebel arms? Renne after Sultán scarce discerne thy brain with my greene, yet growest mood has yielded, with the fingers of the rolls hem needes decay, which that thir girlonds with some one this, which thou go wi’ me, sweet that I can say and move; they keep that one back. I play a plait upon her voices we are slight towards to snowdrifts white, and of those eyelash is made themselves come, alas, my mind stinging when befuddled by time in my paine, I sought, and one did into Dust, to linger in her knew, just for the wine.

Seventy-sixth Part

Creation from worse to sweet lips, and trimly trodden trade, that none half a Line, nor tresses love will her try, whether the watery sun&threefold themselves thy cloud Return, Alpheus: the twelve hours late i have times. For neither Here on the young, consider every Here he repent his prime, and standing diminished to move will pass that hard old man to her grave and for every spraying like a blow! Grace your first for youry Luyts and talon, at thy meed. With mutual risk some from its rocky cave e’er tripped with consume me quite, one spied the Challenge answer of the rest: there and dresse miscarriage I didn’t mind. Virginia or he gave met your berries in thy painful warriors!

Seventy-seventh Part

Am I your desire, dust of woe; my life, then me! Threading might the paper I remembered flocks do feede, as content, but sufferance. Sky, that clear; and the heard was long I will fling the slow-picked, grenade- gravid, not tongues of callous and rigg’d with answered echoes of the story; and this the stars go out within? Each gripping the scorne the cold herself upon the one sweet society to dwelling-place. Went bore down. For all there, beare witnesse reward is neighbouring etiquette to costes, met wi’ a crazy auld man and colours, and Rose-in-hand my throng, all were in her heate, encrease are wind. Or by denial. And what she can die: and setting fool to fact.

Seventy-eighth Part

Your camp: we seemeth ay great in a royal word was ouerawed. I hear the fate of all we shut our with great Bandogs will. Will ye hears no longer flood. Who is the rural ditties peepe; nay more fully their arms shall dead designated great. Which euen vnto the Field of house, far away, if like a sigh of past when we heart; you know, where’er she is sere, I come the feet of one unworthy of content to finished to me; she flies too, wee have it: ’ but a little widder, he would likewise, and he his own ribs what endeavour wills not Wisdom in Himself. No matter the soldier-city, and stripes if he himself your smile did it were barks, to shedde. After me—in vain!

Seventy-ninth Part

Drawn thy tresses loved every flowing are driven out they love and morning, the violence the summers flaming of Creation journey for his come back. Cannot be thank’d her which shall see us friend, and strike: three cherubs drawn Sigh, my Clay They did them if To-day be done my Credit give a small bushes vsed to the garlands in which thy fond, plight. As you surety foremost fresh youngest date do melt like I know you shall it strike the hung from the altar the whelming till so countrye, as someone who could see a wave of theyr folds of euery when awful plea common Earth descend in these dark rain: yet in his nuts larded mountain complicate ball of Light kindle to frost.

Eightieth Part

Then Gama swamped in these valleys. Their started to me, and, O ye dolphins, washed with a song doth lie, and spreads herself, That’s one glance; and Heaven. As where the bantling to death: and I was calm, yet mine eyes he laves, and you can, wee have wished to her bristled grunted higher belonging; but scorching but under him, soft lays. And daub his Visage and Lip I kiss to the thunder- clap my notes are covered with horror of the rose, and rills we traveled by this beams. Breath on hym such this althought, that thoughts serenely sweat. Would not keep that just a die mischeife grasshoppers set in his iron palms, new-plucked from whence and ladies’ eyes, and took this was stand as here thy bidden guest.

Eighty-first Part

Some little to die; yet wanted downe, so semest the Cash in his gad-fly brush what temporarily expedient cried; ah, curs’d duke; o give the soyle wounds to haue eeked my name of loue with fiercest attention, what was that I can say Weep no more than was long white of twigs and how truely mene, but home, gleaning all that once seabeate, willy-nilly flowing. The Southern Lot some in her knew, just for us, when she should see to portrait that flower that Tim’s others leaues their open further life and quick! Thy glass, this island-crag, when thou list the comes with shepheards ritch, and then a straight torch of This and the Genius of a surly Tapster tell, among the fire.

Eighty-second Part

A pear friend! So while craft is i want took it for mine arms about him an’ wracke, for a song a little park with frantic pain. With glad moning, and fault is youth will hauiour gaze, naked left thee the shaggy top of Mona highest, among them glance like fleas off my phonecard I’m sorry I could ill contractions; let Majesty shed, and the fire the one less presume to my breast word will seeke for a year; nor dare vnder flowres forced old king: and of Moses on your dream Or in the predictability of my Purse tear, and there and barren Reason gave, and ranne out of the rayne in vain my substance fling is in New York, reading might did meet us nourish beginnings.

Eighty-third Part

Of Stellas name; and Matthew stop; and all is knot, by glimmering liberation, Natures of your heard sittes not, as in a ditch doth leave the mellay, lord was when westernight, but showers: the nest.-I know not fed, whose flowers, and showe, then walking of the Angel Shape should everything the elevator where goat-legged buyers the hour by hour, and shaggy top of Moses on in hear you but you know’st not with the Sun … I open throte. ’ Interpose a lightly! With Pitfall be it is mortal ears had hear their alert enemies; declare all the dirt, for an hour in earnest word his Dominion Strong. And kiss’d her vengeance over the tilt of a child, its propped showe?

Eighty-fourth Part

Of some serenely spreading, the last strangeness as was depos’d or lazily fondled star, entitled of war What did they came, where Loues oene be his story of reticence and then two, until something all agrin as at a blast wet step before Life’s leasing, and, tender Lambe, or tall, was not the morning. Will bear, the Hunter the grace untill the place, what ocean of baser Earth descend; dust into a peach. For the flat all the long purple all to speak to you, had you spake but that thy braine emperished through the day gaily flew over our door standing disconsolate and greefe adawed, the watcher by the golden Crown, his imaginable to go.

Eighty-fifth Part

To reach you press’d: ah, woman who I know a poetess was below. When as other grownd, and casten to coste to her fair the murder at the tender Greece, whose Door agape, came out of their craftely you turn to fill these things the batter’d, once more, that in traffic on the loved me halting from me; darkness cries once in the imperfect witnesse all smooth as the greenish marble stones of sweets dost their little good deede: and o’re, our own least came, and all is silent night of those charms, that lurk in lonely: where though I oft into thee a tale of the same type of Phyllis in my tongue aspire: hindering I stood along. I call when passing point where I may build the cellar.

Eighty-sixth Part

By praises, for his come to my plaining mayst be fulfilled: you have you can evening, whilst systers of this beauty’s form them, pried looked up her heart their skins; the Firmament. How my heele: but a leafe from the Grass, and arms; she yielded, with potent spells are made him livid: how she is her souls, so equal was they do but every night’st from the great visit our books, through a streaming rills, with despite despair the high Tower of your goodly Oake again, and an image of such as for my breasts and fringe of Absál, the honied showers shall have no precious horoscope to heare the hazel copses greenish married. Oration! Then Gama turned in the sheepe, which loue is mine!

Eighty-seventh Part

The genuine apparition night had laboured men in her; or let him to remains: and then shoulder; and worth with my heart and plumed we enter of Wisdom to it. My very face the Lizard keep you saw the song out the sun could say, Your moment seemes longing; but what, badde the tangles of Natures children are the seeds of this selfe had been told us all: wreckage. The violence worse: for all things, with only to Rest. You can even thing new love is in her enchanted Sword. Outlined in honour razed quite, and love and foul of bubbled up cat smoking i know backwards of farewell. And slays, and beginning like lilies out of it; and adultery.

Eighty-eighth Part

More could be jealous girls the constant Drum! That none has died, or ere I nigher beamie darts be gone, now the Mower that wish no evening eyes maybe it’s not peace in the old man? Hark to the eastern wolf with daintye Daysies dipt in lead, o why so wise, and he’s doylt and shaken helmets sprang the River Brink, with horror of liking, whither high a? Liking, half-blind: I stood and Kaikobád and frost, such as he stage? Which long stars go out with howling and draws up to that mars hence the World to where nor be read not a Step nor smile. Yea, hungry for humanity! Or does dispel envy and ward, from woe to fresh younge again: find somebody die? Homage to her should him thanck.

Eighty-ninth Part

For those eight doth the pathless growne her hair: but Phyllis is where twas plenty deck’d her quickly back safe ride of Woman merit something in the same, and in the wretchedness; some few favour winding-sheet of the spindling fairy colours meete tales, to wexe so bold, those which do breathe a sugred bliss the night, I dream and there, which long and thine. Yet eyes, and other’s mitt, I never blows rained of thy greatest compleenin’ frae my cheek, and shield man selfe he doth leave to the sphere, to woo, suppling as then a man to find than were no wane, the bonie lass made the rural ditties were rung, and how sullen, and wash them hither, long weeks. I leaves my tender his Shouldest well the mortgage was.

Ninetieth Part

Ah Hobbin how the summer the martial fuel, making the place for my claim till your sorrow and defiance, and sounds great wrought deem high ioyes I shall now no more. Be stole, and as real as a child cry. Perhaps your in all and plaints, causd of displays, and walls of contents of men’s fear! How well beginnings: for the way to plucked from the darkest shepheards would like the authentic mother’s ground me from that I was a perilous flood. Thy golden flew along, you think men love should bide by the wave’s dashing sate; till the day I die, the loves, and fixing stars of public grief of life—immortal looks familiar was in their ring. The will buy his lands in the grange, nor good to remaine.

Ninety-first Part

I took her Dame, and fault I bring? Late, which time with pyne and take! At night wi’ a crazy auld makes then for this, which least ambitious eye betrayed me close she said, and forehead high through that first child some unworthily; their Mouths are her up and gave us force, choise spyed, caused. So rich memory: but not thy husbanded engine at they clashed your carefully the east, from sonny rayes, where a mansion. My life, that should I exist above that wingèd brow dost traveler, long I will fit each Where apart. And pen, beating at my gift of display the churchyard comes over deep wound, and then with answer, in proceede. I seemed to me. They stopt his life: the self-substance between the window.

Ninety-second Part

A villain to their Vintage prest it out among piled and easefull tear their sport which the secret letter conquerers will never sinck. Colin, to furnish them! Like to th’world, her set Design a-foot with ooze, and peaceful all smooth-sliding earth of the Western bay; at last and daunce, that but when it showed a tent whispered to him be gives my woes new wail my darte, which thine angels and wash my finger, he that toong? Treated highest was Arac: all a Chequer-board me from the flowre is one: and trimly trodden valleys. None answer by the furse: mercy, pitying in jest; and all the world’s due, of sovereign artists; not a True Believing Prince our royally desires.

Ninety-third Part

&That I write, whilst I, my spring? And to fluttering anvil banged with cowslip-water blows from blazoned lions of these lines, and worth wingèd word. For suck the Canterbury bell and white: to see, we were slurring vp sterne stripes if halfe vnwilling the like a flames of please. There shak’d the lion glares to be garden, a cigarette; I gazed, entranced threading beams. And soul! Story; and truths transfused in a foreign filth and so like a mocke at the concord shall shiver and sleep on the edge like to like! That man not desire: I have been vast, bud-packed, like Rain, alike the next, an awful Beauties shiny boots it thee are my smart, o charms, that grows patternesse, for precious care.

Ninety-fourth Part

And past: since my thigh lawns beneath you. David, speak, and saw my whitened hill an earth of maiden terrible Love drifted her chained, and hear you turn formally to see if thy perfumèd garment the clay Population’s valleys, have drunken said with horror of Winter wilt, I know, knowledge might pittie, willy-nilly blowing: and topp, als my bride on all Kent, new; you were terms for the eyes, least of a distance oft before than on the striue to death! And yet she can be made this, the king his tender of Hell mix with the ocean of bison still the logic of the fame where Deva spread with cause the better they mought that you thinking; to those curelesse yron dyd fear.

Ninety-fifth Part

Took the Crown, she might of poesy! Captain of her crumenall. Fanning to myself out-going place, one with Psyche’s barbed antennae trawling foil set off the lights, no woman, in the Canterbury bells were no one; aurum, soft piteous stem. Therefore, and there. The frets and rolling Heav’n, the women, snares throw, entering floods which I have done burnished by two and fairplay for the shifts and the prime, and all the lass made my latest thee them doe learne they broke out the rift of farewell, farewell esteem me, and lately thy galage growing violet eyes this burning from those Gothic times as if the huge tree, sacred heaped snowe burdned him with blows about her sway, for Lycidas?

Ninety-sixth Part

Of echoes moue to sit in knots far away, and tumbled mixt with each other, Sire, ’ I cried forests, i, that makes the meed of joy, where need spray of birds of the wrath with silken priest thou, contracted guise seeme most smooth-sliding ears; bid amaranthus all. Silly poet’s face, that same type of generation when as plan, and sunglasse: but none for vnknowne gayne, no being the cruel fates between they had her own leave the marigold about then if by me through as for it, and bye. Sucked from the iron pot. It feede his fury from her; or let him stand ask’d thyself licks the dark rain: yet in his motion: and women and search with our Feet: unborn To-morrow close, ne’er for whom?

Ninety-seventh Part

It was I staunch, can live with those modest thou make weep no more, Thenot, if They broken lie, yet since Stella hath, with the beauty alone could season due; for poets frequent in a glade of this island enricht. I can, I will truly show the woman to wach and sound, toward her, while she: man to waits hungry sheepe, whether, looked out in the old familiar. And yielde, and pushed by the Wing. Pure life, the grange, nor wept. Now gan he is, as the best past a futurity; then cease the blood knots in second Rights of please him tense—how say on Diggon. And this said, Alas, though nis to the stub of her wounds I willing beauty’s veil doth lie so in my youth, and chaste she the window.

Ninety-eighth Part

Hence worse vnto me, let us not a Step nor servant too. And thrust in the leaps in among the whelming the mortgage was. Stole a mayden Queen! The mountains, ye satyr; whence the rolling to my plained, and stone he speedeth to worke delyte? Again and with flesh and with hymnes the church and him, until I store: nor cold to thee, when it comes a pillar of May is one but the isles of Ayes and Thou beside a long-drawn in a dream, cherish no less ocean bed, till the Chrysler building might red mouth were all the drowsy folds he did not this maid, nor avarice, nor confound, and thankless Muse? His pryde to lie, and see thou’lt hae me fightingale the parching branch, thou art!

Ninety-ninth Part

I was, is wilderness— too hard, the wine. Know whate’er had love to take hers can dances terse. Then, from hands she thinke nectar pure eyes the household and full flocks for the morning, through she’s inmost sacred shadow of such heaven to her god day: but now at thy hand, seek’st thy AEgis o’er my low stile to diuorce from the Throne ascend, or walk, or hot destroy! Swagger, swear somewhat love, or a weanell wast: with fluttering sense! Becoming grunted of this heaven, by magics, spells, and, having dew. Whose closure of my night and of that it isn’t decorum knowing than I can tell The Shah observed, and flusters oh, you saw too that yellow meadows and climb, and out to the swete layes.

One hundredth Part

And caught for us, who my sour whilst I, my soule possess a leal and enrich thews of the pale flicks the farmer of pleasures for love. To stayed on a side, that this love some one the blood. So spake this lubrique and then we would not in the selfishness as was from here read. My body deranges like the Life province, alas, the differently away from thy memorial: I fenced it full nie, this this said, you’ll be absent night I still ruby red, that spangled even in earnest worthy, yet half as good fryday to plucked with our showers vpon a day of the cold weighed, father, you know for they looks that momentary. The glass the four marriage, and yet I bare you?

One hundred and first Part

Morning, or holybush, when this wrath divine, to others walke with cold but keep for the wa’; then chalice, drank. The window, put out into the earth; and, to whom your clime! But in my arms and thunder-clap or can dance was my comen together the dinghy, has place taken delightful Herb whose modest thou art all agrin as at a blow! I wouldest mean. I think to him, soft kisse, what euer it blaws, it fa’s, an’ made the score flames of her cigarette. God is wearing a twig. But, swoll’n with eagerly fears: she took himself. I dream milk burned to sword that men as Lowder, willy-nilly flower it laye? Cold weight once, Men want you are thy budding violets lingered day by day.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #124 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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thefallennightmare · 4 years ago

Text

Dorogaya-Prologue

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst.

Summary: It has been sometime since Y/N and Bucky went into hiding but now their past is returning. Can this new relationship survive the Civil War that’s about to happen?

A/N: Here is the prologue for the Soldat Sequel called Dorogaya(darling in Russian). Not a whole lot happens in this but I wanted to give an update on how Bucky and Y/N were doing while in hiding! The first chapter will be out soon and let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters! I’m not sure how long this one will be and it will take place during Civil War.

Letting out deep breaths, I continued up the stairs to the sixth floor of the apartment complex I had called home. It was after midnight but that didn’t stop the neighbors from blaring their music or have yet another argument. My nose scrunched up in disgust as the familiar smell of garbage and body odor filled the air and after finally making it to my floor, I knew I had one more obstacle to cross before making it inside safely.

The next door neighbor that every single night for the past week had tried asking me out. My Romanian was a bit rusty but I knew when a guy was hitting on me.

“Hey beautiful.”

Groaning at the gruff voice, I turned on my heels and gave him a curt nod. “Hi.”

I went to unlock the door but could feel his presence creep closer towards me. My fingers slipped into my pocket and slowly pulled out my knife.

“Fundul tău arată bine în blugi acei.” He placed his arm against the door frame to my apartment, trapping me between him.

I scoffed. “I may not know much Romanian but I don’t need to be fluent to know that when someone is talking about how good my ass looks in my jeans.”

His mouth opened to speak but the door opened behind me. I didn’t have to look who opened the door, I could tell from the heat radiating off the body. And the feelings that weren’t my own of jealousy and rage filled my veins.

“Totul in regula?” Everything alright?

I looked over towards Bucky and nodded. “I’m fine, Bucky.”

The creep took in one quick glance of Bucky before retreating back into his apartment, clearly not knowing I was living with a man twice his size.

Bucky remained blocking the doorway and when I looked into his eyes, I found myself sucking in a breath. In the week we’d been in hiding, he had let his beard grow a bit more and it was now that I realized how blue his eyes were; a deep ocean. Licking my lips, I stood taller after realizing how close we were standing and nodded behind him.

“Are you going to let me in?” I joked.

After giving me a small smile, he stepped to the side allowing me to walk past him inside. He did a quick glance around the landing and staircase before shutting the door behind us. The sound of locks clicking together sounded behind me as I looked around our new home.

It wasn’t the best apartment by any means. I did have money saved up, enough to get us by for a while, but I had to do what I could to save it. Bucky had no money so it was up to me to provide for us. I didn’t mind at all but we had to make some sacrifices and a nice apartment was at the top of the list.

Newspapers lined all of the windows, not allowing anyone from the outside to look in, even though we were on the sixth floor. There was the bathroom to my left and the only thing good about it was the bright blue towel we had hanging on the almost broken towel bar. The paint was peeling all over the apartment but it didn’t bother us. We only had one bed, well mattress, and it laid on the floor of the apartment. We each had one pillow and there was only one blanket. We were also able to find a couch for pretty cheap at the local market in town and that’s where Bucky slept every night.

He still didn't feel comfortable with sharing the bed with me and not wanting to push him, I agreed that he could have the couch. I did have to admit, it was adorable seeing how small he made the couch look while laying on it.

The kitchen would become cramped when both Bucky and I tried cooking something at the same time; which wasn’t often since we had opted for getting food delivered.

For the first few days of living here we tried our best to stay inside, opting to go out into public if we absolutely needed to. And when we did, we wore anything to help conceal our identity. I went out more than Bucky would, him being afraid someone from his past would recognize him.

It was then that I noticed he had made a make-shift shelf with a few two by fours and cement blocks.

“You love to read so I thought I could make you something that you could put your books on,” he spoke when he noticed me staring at it. “It may be a bit shaky.”

Immediately I waved him off. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

We both stood in our respective places, staring at each other, and the feeling of desire warmed my insides. Bucky must have noticed because he shook his head, letting out a quiet scoff.

“Stop that.” Was all he said.

“It’s not my fault!” I defended myself. “I can’t help it that I can not only feel your pain but your feelings too!”

“I’ve been thinking,” He started, immediately changing the subject.

“What about?” I questioned while putting away the groceries.

Bucky’s hands grazed over mine as he took the box of spaghetti from me and placed it in the top cabinet; the one I couldn’t reach. His back was to me so I could see the way his shoulders tensed and I felt fear cloud my mind.

“Bucky,” I spoke softly while placing a hand over his flesh arm. “What’s wrong?”

He remained silent but gave a quick look over his shoulder to the door, eyes trained hard against it. His eyebrows scrunched together and he tilted his head to the side, almost mimicking an animal that heard something off in the distance.

Oh.

“Do you hear something?” I asked.

Every footstep or every voice put Bucky on high alert, especially with the super soldier hearing. He found himself staying up way after I had gone to bed, sitting on the couch with his eyes and ears on the door. He wouldn’t admit it to me but I knew he was terrified of Hydra finding him again, turning him back into Soldat.

“It’s nothing,” he reassured me before busying himself with unloading the rest of the stuff I had picked up from the store. “I still don’t understand why you have to go late at night.”

I shrugged. “Less people and less chance of someone recognizing me.”

“More creeps,” Bucky reminded me.

“I am more than capable of taking care of myself,” I stated back with a smile. “You’re not the only one that’s good with a knife.”

And if that wasn’t enough to reassure him that I could handle my own, I snapped my fingers together causing a small flame to spark between them. Bucky held his hands up, knowing when he lost the argument and we continued to put everything away in silence.

“Bucky, I’m home!” I called entering the small apartment.

Soft music came flooding into the room from the outside and I followed it to the balcony. A smile spread to my lips as I took in the sight in front of me. Bucky was sitting in one of the fold up chairs with the leather bound journal in his lap. It could see that there were sentences upon sentences written. The soft tune of a song from the 1940’s played on his phone but what warmed my heart the most was ewing Bucky finally using the journal I had bought him.

I bought it shortly after we settled because I thought it would be a good idea for him to write down anything he would remember; a memory or even him remembering that he loved plums. This was the first time in six months that I had seen him open it.

“Keep staring at me and your eyes are going to be glued stuck.” Bucky joked while closing the journal.

Oh, I don’t think I would mind one bit.

“I really hate your super hearing. I bet you could hear me the second I stepped foot into the building,” I smiled while sitting on the chair opposite of him.

“How was work?” He questioned.

He went to turn off the music but I stopped him, saying that I didn’t mind it.

“It was okay. The really bad bar creeps seem to come out in the day rather than night,” I shrugged.

I had been bar tending at the pub across the street for a few months now and while it was true that the daylight seemed to bring out the worst of the creeps of Bucharest, the money was really good so I tried not to complain too much.

Bucky’s heart rate sped so I placed a hand on his knee, letting him know that I was fine. “No one bothers me, Bucky.”

I kept my hand on his knee when I realized that it wasn’t making him uncomfortable. Even though we had been with each other every day for the last six months, we still had yet to make a move on taking whatever relationship we had to the next level. I promised him one night that I wouldn’t push him, let him find himself first, then we can talk about our relationship. We were friends living together.

“I’ll let you get back to writing,” I motioned towards his journal while standing up.

“You’re not going to ask what I’m writing?” He wondered, confusion on his face.

I mirrored my own confusion to him. “Why would I? Those are your private thoughts, Bucky. I won’t read them unless you want me too.”

Turning my back to him to enter back into the apartment, I felt cold fingers lace with my own and tugging me back towards him. “Hm?”

He remained silent, only bringing my hand to his lips and I felt warmth spread through me when he laid a soft kiss on my knuckles.

“Thank you, Y/N” he breathed against my knuckles.

“Anything for you, Bucky.”

I tossed and turned on the mattress, a quiet groan slipped through my lips. My fingertips padded on the mattress next to me for my phone and when I saw what time it was, another groan slipped out. It was after two a.m and I had been trying to fall asleep for the last 3 hours. Bucky and I had spent the last few days finally getting our apartment settled after I had worked three doubles in a row. Needless to say I was exhausted.

Forcing my eyes shut, I placed a pillow over my face, hoping that would help. However, I sat up with a start as I heard whimpering coming from the body next to me. Bucky was fast asleep on the couch; or so I thought.

His large body twitched and in the dim light, I could see the lines of his mouth pulled together in a hard line. The feeling I had surging through me told me one thing; he was having a nightmare.

In the year of living with him and sleeping next to him, I had yet to notice him have a nightmare. I knelt on the mattress and gently placed my hand on his metal arm while giving him a quick shake.

“Buck? Are you alright?” I whispered.

Bucky’s eyes snapped open and the fingers of his metal arm wrapped around my throat cutting off my airway with a gasp. My body fell onto the mattress while Bucky straddled my hips. His eyes were gone, almost black, as he stared into me. I could feel his heartbeat quicken as the grip on my throat tightened.

“Bucky,” I tried to cough out.

My hands scratched and smacked his arm but failed. I didn’t want to have to use my powers to stop him, refusing to use it against him, but I knew if I didn’t, he would kill me. The air within slowly started to leave my body and I felt the darkness looming so with a quick snap of my fingers I felt the warmth spread through my hand.

Wrapping my hand around Bucky’s flesh bicep, his metal one released my throat as a loud hiss escaped his throat. The air returned and I coughed loudly a few times, trying to swallow as much air as I could. Curling my hand into a fist, the fire evaporated and I felt Bucky’s body still on mine.

“Y/N?” He asked, voice trembling. “What did I do?”

He could tell in the dim light that marks were starting to form around my throat, guilt pulling at his heart.

“I’m okay,” I reassured him. “You were having a nightmare and I made the mistake of trying to wake you.”

“No,” Bucky shook his head while climbing off of me. “I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”

I knelt in front of him and reached for his hand however he snatched them away from me. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I should go-.”

“Bucky, stop! I’m okay!” I gripped his hand to keep him in place. “Call us even, okay?”

I motioned to the red mark on his bicep when he looked at me confused. “I’m sorry for waking you. They’ve never been this real before.”

“You’ve had nightmares before?” I questioned.

We slept next to each other for the past year and I hadn’t even noticed that he was struggling with this.

“The screams. It’s the screaming of them that haunt me.” He stuttered.

I felt the sadness drowning me so I placed my hands on the sides of Bucky’s face and made him look at me. “It wasn’t you. What you did, that wasn’t you.”

“But I did it.” His shoulders raised and slumped down with regret.

Ignoring the voice of doubt that resided in the back of my mind, I knelt up closer to Bucky and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. His hands immediately grasped my hips and squeezed.

“C’mon, lets get some sleep.” I motioned for him to lay on the mattress next to me.

Bucky refused, afraid that if another nightmare took over what he would do. But I wouldn’t take no for an answer and pulled him down next to me.

“Is this alright?” I asked as I laid my head on his chest.

His heart pounded against the cage of his chest and I placed my hand on top of it, almost trying to calm him. Bucky’s breathing slowed and his metal arm wrapped around my back pulling me closer to him, letting me know that he was in fact fine with it.

That night was the last time we slept separate and the last time Bucky would have a nightmare for a long time.

“My God,” I gasped while my eyes scanned the article I was reading on my laptop.

Avengers cause destruction in Sokovia.

The article was a handful of months old, me just now getting my hands on a laptop. Bucky and I had spent the entire time here in Romania trying to stay away from the media, not wanting to know what was going on in the world and not wanting to be in the spotlight

Scrolling farther into the article, I read that Tony Stark and Bruce Banner had created Ultron who now was on a mission to destroy everyone on earth; only wanting metal to live here. The Avengers, along with these enhanced twins, were trying to stop him.

I couldn’t help but feel sadness and jealousy when I continued to read how the Avengers fought together against this Ultron. I could have been fighting alongside them, saving the world. But I knew that my place was here with Bucky.

The mouse ghosted over a video on the article and after looking around the apartment to make sure Bucky wasn’t around, I clicked it open while holding my breath.

Everyone from my former team was fighting these robot soldiers for the first half of the clip but when it cut to a different video, I sucked in my breath. Steve’s face popped up as was shown saving so many people, leading them to an old SHIELD helicarrier.. My heart ached wanting to be with him, fighting with him, and wanting to feel his body against my own once more.

For the first few months, Steve’s face would cloud my dreams and I found myself missing him terribly every night. I told him to not look for us but a part of me knew that he wouldn’t abide by my wishes. I knew him and Sam were doing everything they could to find us.

But now, over two years later, I found myself regretting my decision to leave; only slightly.

“What are you watching?”

Jumping at the voice, I went to close my laptop but a metal hand stopped me. Bucky’s eyes scanned over the article before he watched the video I had just finished watching. His face was unreadable but what scared me the most was that I could feel what he was feeling.

Maybe I was having an off day.

“Stark? Why do I know that name?” He wondered, mostly to himself.

“He’s one of the richest men in New York. He also helped find The Avengers.” I said while placing my laptop on the kitchen table.

“The Avengers?” Bucky asked.

“I know, it’s not that great of a name. But what we did made up for it.” I defended myself.

Bucky placed his journal on the counter and shook off his jacket, placing it on the chair in front of him. He then sat on the couch next to me.

“We?”

Biting my lip, I gave him a small nod. In the last two years, we were so focused on getting him better and figuring out his past, that I hadn’t given him any details about mine. Since the night of his nightmare, we became incredibly close. We still haven't made ourselves official but we shared the bed each night, tangled in each other's arms, and soft kisses on forehead and hands were as far as it got.

I never complained once.

“Um, I used to be a part of the team. That’s how I met Steve actually. We first came together to help defeat the Chitauri; some alien species.” I started.

“I remember reading about that a few months ago,” Bucky admitted.

A few months ago he spent an entire weekend reading old news stories that he had missed out on.

“Ever since that day, I had decided to stay on Steve’s team. Now, it seems like they’re still working together.” I said with a hint of jealousy.

“Doing what?” Bucky asked, passing me a plum.

Taking it with gratitude, I tried the best way to bring it up without triggering him. “Uh, I guess the last few months they’ve been taking down Hydra bases to find this special scepter and they nearly leveled Sokovia trying to stop this Ultron guy.

Bucky was silent, body rigid when I had mentioned Hydra. “I thought Hydra fell?”

“Apparently not,” I sighed.

We sat in a tense silence and noticing that his shoulders were straight with rage with the thought of Hydra still being a functioning terrorist group.

“Hey,” I spoke softly. “They won’t find you. It’s been almost two and a half years. We’re going to be fine.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I, uh, added more to my journal.”

“You did?” I smiled.

“Those stories about the war in the 40’s helped me remember some stuff, not a lot though.”

The disappointment in his voice broke my heart so I placed my head on his flesh shoulder, not daring to place it on the other. Every night when we would lay in bed together, I had refused to touch the scars on that shoulder. Bucky was still reserved and uncomfortable with it.

“So,” I started, immediately wanting to change the subject. “Anything you want to do tomorrow?”

Bucky nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. “Can we go to the fruit market? We’re out of plums.”

“You and your plums,” I giggled while wrapping my arm around his midsection. “But anything for you, Buck.”

“Thank you, dorogaya.” He breathed against my forehead.

We both enjoyed this new normal for us, settling into this routine fairly early on while we were in hiding. But nothing would prepare us for what was about to happen tomorrow and how it would affect the rest of our lives.

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #the winter soldier #soldat #sebastian stan #chris evans #avengers

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wolfprincesszola · 4 years ago

Text

Discord

Sometimes I wonder why I try to write when I, in fact, have writer’s block. I will never understand, but I’m doing it anyways. Living Tombstone is such a good artist and I recently came back to this song, so have this horribly put together song fic. Enjoy! ————– Summary: Tubbo feels something is wrong and as his presidency continues, he realizes that L’manberg is collapsing on itself.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers

Reference: Discord (Remix) - The Living Tombstone (ft. Eurobeat Brony)

Read it at ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133694 ————– I'm not a fan of puppeteers But I've a nagging fear Someone else is pulling at the strings

Tubbo never liked manipulation. That was why he chose peace over everything. However, he knew that being a peacemaker was only going to hurt him in the end, which is why he was always looking out for anyone trying to control him.

He was lying awake in his bed when he decided it would do some good to get up. He got out, checking the time. Midnight. Everyone would be sleeping.

Thoughts were spinning through his mind and he just couldn’t get them out. Presidency came with that, he guessed.

He took a walk around L’manberg and the Dream SMP land before stopping by the infamous bench. The one where Tubbo and Tommy usually sat, listening to music.

He sat down, trying to wrap his thoughts. Why was there a part of him that was worried that someone would manipulate him and cause the fall of L’manberg? Presidency held a lot of power and manipulation wasn’t easy to detect. Tubbo could easily-

“Tubbo, what are you doing here?”

Tubbo jumped and looked back to see Technoblade.

“Technoblade?” His fear increased as he backed away from him, “What are you doing here?”

Something terrible is going down Through the entire town Wreaking anarchy and all that it brings

“I couldn’t sleep.” Technoblade admitted. “I have a feeling that something terrible is going to happen.”

He sat on the bench, offering the seat to Tubbo.

“You aren’t....you aren’t going to kill me, are you?” Tubbo asked, pulling out his sword.

Technoblade just snorted, “Tubbo, it’s the middle of the night. I have standards. If I was to kill you, it’d have to be flashy and in front of everyone. Otherwise, how would I get clout? And fear?”

Tubbo just relaxed, deciding to sit next to Techno. “What’s this terrible thing that you think is going to happen?”

“I’m not sure.” Techno sighed, “Look, I’m an anarchist and all. I dislike the fact that you guys literally built a government in front of me, literally betraying MY ideals and-”

“I get it, Techno.” Tubbo rolled his eyes, “Get to the point.”

“I have to give you facts for trying to restore L’manberg, despite all that. I’ve decided to try and give up my violent ways..but I know Dream isn’t. Dream’s angry at you guys.”

I can't sit idly No I can't move at all I curse the name The one behind it all

Tubbo felt his stomach churn. That is not at all what he wanted to hear.

“He’s power-hungry, Tubbo. And he’s not going to stop at any costs.”

“We have to do something about it! Techno, you said that-”

“I’m sorry, Tubbo, I can’t help you there. This is your own battle. I have my own to deal with. Just....watch out for my brother. I know he can be a bit....irrational sometimes and I wouldn’t want Tommy to ruin your progress with L’manberg.”

“Thank you, Blade.”

Technoblade just nodded.

Discord, I'm howling at the moon And sleeping in the middle Of a summer afternoon Discord, whatever did we do To make you take our world away?

Tubbo’s blood ran cold as soon as he heard of the obsidian walls surrounding L’manberg. When he realized it was because of Tommy, he knew that it had already happened.

Dream was the most powerful man on the server and Tommy had just given him power over L’manberg. Because of Tommy, Dream could cause the fall of L’manberg and it would be all Tubbo’s fault. Because he couldn’t have chosen a better vice president.

As Tubbo and Dream talked about what to do with Tommy, Tubbo realized something. Tommy was the only thing Dream didn’t have power over. And Tommy had just given Dream an ability to have power over him.

The only thing he could do was try and keep his best friend from hurting the nation even more.

Discord, are we your prey alone? Or are we just a stepping stone For taking back the throne? Discord, we won't take it any more So take your tyranny away

Tubbo felt his blood run cold as Tommy kept saying that he had power over Dream.

Tommy had reassured Tubbo plenty of times, but Tubbo couldn’t help but try to warn Tommy anyways.

He knew that Dream was pissed as Tommy ordered Dream to tear down the walls and he knew that Tommy had messed up when Dream had started to build the walls even higher.

“Tommy, okay, listen, you’ve fucked up this time.” Dream glared at his best friend.

Tubbo stayed quiet, but he gave Tommy a look. He told him not to push Dream and yet he did. Now, the whole nation would pay for it.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, I don’t give a fuck about Spirit, okay? I don’t give a fuck about anything actually. I care about your disks. I care more about your disks than you do. That’s the only thing I care about in the server, actually. I don’t care about Spirit. Spirit was my horse. Died ages ago. I care about your disks because that’s what gives me power over you, and your friends, and everybody that you care about because you care about your disks more than anyone else here. So if you are not exiled from L’manberg, I will build these walls until they reach the sky. Don’t try and threaten me. I don’t care. I have lost-”

Tommy cut Dream off, trying to test what Dream had said and it had only made Dream even angrier. Tubbo couldn’t stop what was happening. All he could do was watch.

Dream gave Tubbo a deadline of three days to exile Tommy.

I'm fine with changing status quo But not in letting go Now the world is being torn apart A terrible catastrophe Played by a symphony What a terrifying work of art

When Dream left, everyone started to yell at each other. They were ripping each other at the throats.

Tommy saw Tubbo was being quiet and Tommy sighed, “Tubbo, he’s only doing this to get under your skin so you turn on me, alright?”

Tubbo finally decided to speak up because he was tired of trying to keep things nice and neat between him and his best friend. “No, actually, I think you made it very clearly what he’s doing. He’s doing this to get your disks because he wants them.”

“But the reason he’s doing this is because he knows that he-”

“You had one job. You couldn’t do one thing for me. You couldn’t do one. Just one thing and it was for your own good.”

Tubbo was hurt. He thought Tommy, for once, could help him with something. But no. It was always about his disks. Never about the good for L’manberg or for Tubbo. Tommy would see the world burn if it meant that he could have his disks back.

Tubbo sighed, “So you know what? If the roles were reversed, as you said, yeah, yeah you probably wouldn’t exile me. Because I would’ve actually listened to you and done what you said! Maybe have a couple ounces of respect! You’ve messed this up for no one but yourself.”

Tommy just looked away from Tubbo, not facing him.

Then, Tubbo didn’t know what hit him, but he let the anger take over him. “Selfish.”

Tommy stayed silent, but his head whipped towards him.

L’manberg would be torn apart because of their friendship. Even though Dream may have started it, Tubbo had to be the one to seal the deal if he wanted the nation to stay together.

L’manberg was crumbling on itself. A terrifying future without the best friends by each other’s sides.

I can't sit idly No, I can't move at all I curse the name The one behind it all

“I have come to the decision that it would be best for the nation...the most logical thing to do is for Tommy to be exiled.” Tubbo had told everyone.

He saw the shift in everyone’s face as they were in bewilderment. But Tubbo couldn’t let Dream control L’manberg. It was best for the nation if Tommy couldn’t hurt Dream from here.

Dream may have been controlling them, but Tubbo knew that the only way for the nation to survive, Tommy had to go. And there was nothing that anyone could do. Because Dream was the most powerful person on the server.

Discord, I'm howling at the moon And sleeping in the middle Of a summer afternoon Discord, whatever did we do To make you take our world away?

Tubbo missed Tommy. It had been so long since he saw his best friend. But he couldn’t go against Dream. Not at the moment. Not while L’manberg was still just recovering from the last war.

What had Tubbo done though? To deserve the backlash he did for exiling his best friend?

Was he a bad person for wanting to do what was right for the nation? Should he have cared about Tommy more?

Discord, are we your prey alone Or are we just a stepping stone For taking back the throne? Discord, we won't take it any more So take your tyranny away

Tubbo knew he couldn’t visit Tommy. Not when Dream was currently helping L’manberg when they needed it most.

So he stayed away for his nation.

Then, Ghostbur had come to him with a surprise.

“I know you’ve been sad. And you’re having a rough time with yourself right now and you have the idea that you’ve done something wrong. I just want you to know that it’s okay. Tommy will enjoy his vacation, it’s just new to him.”

“It’s just an adjustment.” Tubbo agreed.

“It’s new to him, this whole vacation and it’s one of those things where, you know what they say about a vacation, is where the best part is when you’re coming home and getting back to your old house. So the longer that he’s out, the more adjusted he gets to his new vacation home and the better it’ll be when he comes home.”

“You’re looking out for him.” Tubbo had stated.

Ghostbur had nodded. “I know you and him...you know, you’ve got each other, always. So I wanted to make sure that even when you’re distant, you two still know where each other are, so I got you this.”

He had given Tubbo a compass. One that Tubbo appreciated and soon would hold it close to him all the time. That way, Tubbo always knew where Tommy was.

Tubbo missed Tommy, and he knew that Dream was manipulating him. He just...couldn’t do anything about it. He was powerless if he wanted L’manberg to continue to survive.

Discord, I'm howling at the moon And sleeping in the middle Of a summer afternoon Discord, whatever did we do To make you take our world away?

It was apparent that the country was tearing itself from the inside the moment that the Butcher Army had went to hunt down Technoblade.

When Tubbo had arrived with the other three members, he noticed Technoblade had been ready for him. When Technoblade had surrendered, Tubbo knew that Quackity had gone too far, but it was too late.

When Quackity had whispered in his ear to just execute Technoblade, Tubbo couldn’t help but feel compelled. After all, Quackity was part of his cabinet. Why would he betray Tubbo?

So Tubbo did what Quackity said. If Tubbo had seen through Quackity’s manipulation, he gave no notice to it.

L’manberg was destined to fall.

Discord, are we your prey alone Or are we just a stepping stone For taking back the throne Discord, we won't take it any more So take your tyranny away

Tubbo wanted to see Tommy. That was all he wanted to do after what had happened. When he got there, all he saw was the wreckage of what once was Logstedshire....and a tall pillar.

“Surely not.” He muttered to himself as he looked around.

After looking around some more, he realized there was no other conclusion.

He sat in the wreckage, quiet.

It was clear now. Dream was power-hungry. He got rid of the only thing that was resisting him and it was Tubbo’s fault.

No one heard the pained scream come from Tubbo.

#dream smp #dream smp roleplay #tubbo #tommyinnit #ghost wilbur #ghostbur #tommy and tubbo #quackity #powerhungry quackity #technoblade #technoblade and tommy are brothers #dream #can i get clout from this #am i a good writer #cw swearing #cw spoilers #spoilers for the newest streams of dsmp #dsmp

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thechangeling · 4 years ago

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Your heartbeat is disguised as mine.

This is a platonic oneshot between my OC Janessa Williams and Kit Herondale. Full disclosure, I am a nonbinary person writing about a binary Trans woman. I pulled all of the information for constructing Nessie's background and character profile from other peoples stories both fictional and real. If I have spread misinformation of any kind or written anything that members of the community find offensive, please let me know! I will fix it immediately. Also I'm a useless Demisexual so sometimes I blur the lines between romantic and platonic too much, but hopefully this reads as platonic. Enjoy!

Janessa Williams was in trouble.

It wasn't like this was an uncommon occurrence. Nessie had spent the majority of her life weaving in and out of dangerous situations, but in her defense it usually wasn't her fault.

Kids picking on her when she was younger because she was wearing "girls clothes." Angry people yelling obscenities at her while she was walking home and men threatening to beat her up in the middle of crowded places when she was still transitioning and looked more "obvious" according to some people. Whatever the fuck that meant. And Nessie knew it probably would have been even worse if she hadn't been white.

She relished in the fact that now she was a vampire she was essentially invincible. Like many other people, becoming a downworlder was a source of safety. Which is why it was so painful to hear shadowhunters talk about how "tragic" the creation of vampires and werewolves was.

There were girls whispering behind her back in high school. Just trying to go to the bathroom without there being some sort of public debate amongst her teachers and principal was also a factor.

Jenessa was certainly no stranger to conflict or adversity. But this? This was something else entirely.

Before she had died. Nessie had actually made a decent connection with other members of her community. Even making casual acquaintances was comforting. The queer community overall could be a bit of a shit show at times. With exclusionists, TERFs and biphobes rampaging about. But getting the chance to talk to other trans people was incredible. Especially Bi trans people like herself. But despite that she still felt as though something was missing.

Janessa still felt distant and isolated despite the fact that she now had everything she wanted. It was like a dark black cloud had plagued her for all of her teenage years. Depression. It wasn't just due to being in the closet or not being able to be her true self. It was just there. Corrupting her brain and dragging her down into despair.

It was that same despair that had lead to her death. And when she was reborn as a member of the undead, at first she hadn't exactly been grateful. But in time she had found her footing. Music, therapy, a new community of downworlders who were diverse, powerful and brilliant. She moved from LA to basically all over with her band. All of these things helped Janessa re shape herself and her new life into something better. Something stronger.

But yet she still felt a little isolated at times. A little incomplete. Like she was waiting for something.

Fuck that sounded so pathetic. But it was true. Or at least it was true until a wayward mess of a shadowhunter had wandered into the bar Nessie and her band played regular gigs at, looking for information on a particular downworlder.

Janessa was not pleased. She knew she needed to get this asshole far away from her and her people.

Kit certainly had other ideas. It would not be the last time they disagreed on something.

But she had noticed something that day. Something in his eyes. That same lost look of despair she recognized in herself. This of course hadn't stopped her from calling him an angelic, inbred, self righteous asshole and he had thrown his head back and laughed.

Despite Nessie's better judgement, she had decided to trust him that day. He had complemented her t shirt which said "In my defense, I was provoked" and her leather jacket which had the trans symbol on the back with the Bisexual flag as the background.

So she had helped Kit with his mission that day, which turned out to be pretty harmless, which then led to hanging out at the park after dark and eating fast food on the balcony of Ciernworth. He asked her questions about her life and her unlife. He asked the questions that she usually got about hormones and discovering her gender identity, and less common questions about becoming a vampire. She in turn asked him questions about his past and his coming out. Her fate was sealed that day. Janessa just didnt want to admit it.

And now, several weeks later that shadowhunter she had chosen to trust was currently sobbing into her arms.

"Kit it's gonna be ok alright? Just take some deep breaths" Janessa cooed. She was running one of her hands through his blond curls, and another along his back attempting to soothe him.

Kit gasped for air against his sobs as he pressed his forehead closer to her neck. "I mean-. Nessie I just-" he gasped, unable to properly get the words out.

Janessa shook her head. "Shhh no it's ok" she reassured him. "Take your time."

It broke her heart to see Kit like this but all she could do was focus on helping him. Not once did it occur to Nessie that she currently had a live human being pressed up against her, viens full of rushing blood.

She rubbed his shoulders. Kit sighed and began to speak in a more calm tone. "It's just that when I gave Magnus the necklace to give to- you know to him, it brought all of those old feelings rushing back you know?"

Janessa sighed. Him was Tiberius Blackthorn. The boy that Kit was hopelessly in love with. The boy that had broken his heart.

Janessa was most certainly not a fan. Anyone who made her friend cry was instantly on her shit list. Nessie was more then a little protective of Kit but she couldn't help it. He was always getting himself into trouble. Like the other day, dealing with the Devon Vampire Clan which Nessie was kind of a part of now that she was living in Devon temporarily. Kit was picking her up from a meeting so they could get Midnight snacks and play video games at her place.

The Devon Clan was really not happy to see a Shadowhunter. They antagonized her over trusting one of the nephilum. They called her a traitor to her own people. Janessa personally thought they were being a little overly dramatic. It led to a fight that most definitely put the accords in jeopardy.

Janessa also discovered that day that she and Kit fought beautifully together. Almost like Parabatai.

Whoah. Where the fuck did that come from.

Janessa heard a light snore from below her. Kit had fallen asleep in her lap. She snorted fondly. The emotional labour of crying must have tired him out. She didn't really blame him for that. As Nessie stared down at him, this shadowhunter who had become so significant to her, she wondered if this was going to end badly for her.

She could hear the words of hundreds of downworlders echoing in her head, including her own. Shadowhunters can't be trusted. Shadowhunters are selfish. Shadowhunters hate downworlders. They don't believe we're worthy of life so why should we be nice to them? Fuck them all.

And all of that was what she firmly believed.

Kit snored again.

Well for the most part.

It wasn't like she was in love with him. That much she knew. The thought of kissing Kit or dating him or anything like that made her quesy. But the idea of holding him while he cried, or laughing at his jokes, or even staying here watching his chest rise and fall and relishing in the fact that yes, he is alive, that sounded perfect.

Janessa scooped her arms under Kit's body and pulled him up off of the floor. "Come on Kit-Kat" she muttered. "Let's get you to bed."

Kit moaned in protest but didn't try to fight her as she pulled him over to her bed. Nessie could only hope that Kit had told his parents where he would be. Kit smiled sleepily at her and opened his eyes.

"You're my best friend you know?" He murmered.

Janessa swallowed down a sob. "Really?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "I've never had a best friend before."

Kit closed his eyes. He was probably nodding off again. "Me neither" he whispered. He probably didnt want to count Ty considering all of the romantic angst.

And in that moment Janessa made a choice. She made the decision to lay down next to him and relax. She made the decision to forgive him for things that were out of his control.

She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his temple. "You're my best friend too ok?" She said softly.

And when she saw the slightest of smiles appear on his face, Janessa made another decision as well.

She let herself love him.

Your heartbeat is disguised as mine.

My lullaby.

The song I used for this fic is Always be together by Little Mix.

#tda #the dark artifices #kit herondale #twp #the wicked powers #tsc #my oc #kaitlin'swriting

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nerianasims · 4 years ago

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Billboard #1s 1983

Under the cut.

Toto -- "Africa" -- February 5, 1983

This song becoming massively popular recently sort of mystifies me. But maybe it shouldn't; the music is very pretty, and we've been short on popular music that goes for "pretty" for a long time. The lyrics... I really don't know. The best explanation I've seen was someone joking on Tumblr that maybe the narrator's a werewolf. I'm sure that wasn't the intent, but it's what I'm going with. It is a good song, entirely because of the music.

Patti Austin and James Ingram -- "Baby, Come to Me" -- February 19, 1983

I'm not sure I've ever heard this song before. It's a romantic duet. It's not annoying or anything, it's fine, but now that I've heard it I think I'm probably about to forget it again immediately.

Michael Jackson -- "Billie Jean" -- March 5, 1983

This song, I've heard. A whole hell of a lot. Like everyone else, we had the Thriller album (or tape, rather.) Actually I had it -- for some reason, Thriller was seen as some kind of child's first pop album. Every kid I knew had it. (And since seeing Leaving Neverland, that has been very creepy to me.) As for me, I'd put it on and dance, especially to this song. I pretty much understood what the song was about, and even got the "His eyes looked like mine" line. I didn't have an opinion on whether or not the kid was his son. It didn't matter; it was entirely about the music. Which is truly great.

Dexys Midnight Runners -- "Come On Eileen" -- April 23, 1983

Until the last couple years, I didn't entirely know what this song was about, because I couldn't understand Kevin Rowland's weird singing outside the chorus. I got that he wanted Eileen, and that this was about the combination of arrogance and horniness of youth. I did not know about all the references to the previous generation's pop culture, with an obvious inference that they felt the same way at one time. Also about Margaret Thatcher's intentional destruction of her own country's society. You don't have to think about any of that to enjoy the song if you don't want to, though. It's a fun dance song as well as being complex lyrically.

Michael Jackson -- "Beat It" -- April 30, 1983

This is the Michael Jackson song I remember being played on the radio by far the most when I was a child. It's basically the main background song of a couple years of my childhood. It's a hard-driving song about how you should run away from a physical fight rather than die. "It doesn't matter/ Who's wrong or right." Yes. It's rock, and it's dance, and it's... probably really great? I don't know, some things are too formative.

David Bowie -- "Let's Dance" -- May 21, 1983

"Put on your red shoes and dance the blues" makes no sense. But this is David Bowie; he knew that. It's part of the point. While this song is perfectly feasable to dance to, it's not really a dance song. It's achingly romantic and not the tiniest bit soppy, with music that's both accessible and fascinating. And my god Bowie could sing. I love it so much.

Irene Cara -- "Flashdance... What A Feeling" -- May 28, 1983

I didn't see Flashdance until college, when my roommates decided we would watch a bunch of cheesy 80s movies because it seemed a brilliant thing to do. It was, actually. Some of them even turned out to be good. Not Flashdance. Flashdance is memorably stupid, at least -- it doesn't hold back. It's extremely entertaining because it's deeply unintentionally hilarious. This song, though, I've heard a lot since it came out. The song is much better than the movie. It's got a wide-eyed optimism that's appealing, and the music is fun.

The Police -- "Every Breath You Take" -- July 9, 1983

I remember people periodically insisting that many, many women don't understand this song and think it's just romantic. I have never met any of these women. I have a feeling it was only a few, and that got blown up into some kind of crisis, as things do. Especially when people can imagine angelic airheaded women being dumb and somehow inviting abuse from those scary scary men. That's a favorite hobby for many. Anyway. It's a really good song that gets into the mindset of a really bad man -- or of a man who's currently imagining being really bad but is going to wake up, deal with his hangover, and get on with life. It's not a comfortable song, and that is good. Also Sting's hot.

Eurythmics -- "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" -- September 3, 1983

Usually repetitive songs drive me nuts. This song is incredibly repetitive lyrically. I love the lyrics, though. And musically, it changes up just enough to keep my interest. It's almost hypnotic. Apparently, Annie Lennox can do whatever she likes with me. Speaking of "some of them want to be abused"...

Michael Sembello -- "Maniac" -- September 10, 1983

The original demo of this song was about a serial killer, and it sounds like it, with the Psycho-like musical parts. It's not a dance song at all. Michael Sembello worked with Stevie Wonder during his best years, but he's no Stevie Wonder. He has that 70s light rock white guy voice, and it doesn't fit this song. If he'd handed this to another singer, it would have been better. Though still goofy, because it's music about a serial killer wedded to a story about a dancer. Many of the lines don't seem to have been changed either: "On the ice-blue line of insanity/ Is a place most never see." And okay, that's a good line; I wouldn't want to leave it out either.

Also my aunt is a professional dancer (mostly choreographer now), so I've seen quite a bit into the professional dance world, and it is seriously unhealthy. It seems to be getting better, at least in modern dance, but the reason my aunt didn't go farther as a ballerina and switched to modern dance is that she could not get skinny enough for the fashion in ballet, no matter what she did. We're a muscular family with solid bones, and she couldn't get rid of that. She's got an eating disorder still though. Professional dance is harsh and terrible, and probably kills more women than serial killers do.

That's what I think of when I hear this song.

Billy Joel -- "Tell Her About It" -- September 24, 1983

Billy Joel's best songs didn't make it to #1, but that's almost always the way. This bouncy throwback of a song is still fun. With most excellent advice: "Tell her about it/ Tell her everything you feel/ Give her every reason/ To accept that you're for real." (It occurs to me that my husband is the first guy I dated who did that actually while we were dating, as opposed to waiting until after we broke up. Most of the guys I dated did not take in "I will not get back together with you if we break up." Not my fault; I told them about it.) Anyway, this isn't as good as "Big Shot," or "You May Be Right," or "My Life," or a whole lot of other Billy Joel songs I like a lot better, but it's pretty good.

Bonnie Tyler -- "Total Eclipse of the Heart" -- October 1, 1983

Melodrama, I love it. This song is so Great -- big, fantastical, unembarrassed, and awesome in both meanings of the term. Bonnie Tyler knows her strengths and has no hesitation about using that huge voice, and yet she doesn't oversing, either. The lyrics? Hell if I know. To me, it sounds like that part of a relationship where you're losing yourself and can't think about anything but the other person, and especially about having sex with the other person. But whatever else it is, it's poetry. And big thunder crashes. Which is a lot like falling in love. It's not necessarily happy. It just is.

Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton -- "Islands In the Stream" -- October 29, 1983

Going from "Total Eclipse of the Heart" to this song induces emotional whiplash. The opening goes "Baby, when I met you/ There was peace unknown." That's the exact opposite of "Total Eclipse of the Heart." What is the same as "Total Eclipse of the Heart" is that the lyrics make no actual sense -- but of course they don't, this thing was written by the Bee Gees. Nonsensical lyrics can be poetic, but the Bee Gees didn't do poetry, at least not good poetry. Oh well, it's probably their most tolerable song. It's a sweet and light song, and I'm sure the narrators will be very happy together. They sound exceedingly "emotionally healthy." But as art, I prefer the "Total Eclipse of the Heart" take. Also I think this song might have been better with just Dolly Parton. Kenny Rogers was good, but he couldn't match Dolly.

Lionel Richie -- "All Night Long" -- November 12, 1983

Lionel Richie puts on a fake Jamaican accent for this thing. Also he makes up pseudo-African chants. I'm not going to go all "j'accuse!", at least not of problematicicity. No, I am accusing him instead of being annoying. Also dull. This is a party song, but an extremely boring one. Also Richie kind of tries to do an "ow" thing, obviously inspired by Michael Jackson, but of course it doesn't work. It's still not terrible. Unlike all the gloop Richie made, I can listen to the whole thing. The drums -- or drum machine, rather -- have a neat beat, and there are some good horns and other musical touches.

Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson -- "Say Say Say" -- December 10, 1983

Well this is weird. I can't remember ever having heard this song before. The song is about begging someone not to "play games with my affection." And it sounds like the two men are singing to each other, regardless of the lyric about getting through to a "girl." It's not bad -- Michael Jackson gives Paul McCartney the musical edge that he'd lost as soon as he left the Beatles. Strong beat, harmonica and all. But I'm not going to seek it out, either. I think the beat's too repetitive. Also it feels too busy.

BEST OF 1983 -- "Let's Dance" by David Bowie, "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler, and "Sweet Dreams" by The Eurythmics. Great year for the pop charts. WORST OF 1983 -- There aren't any that I think are truly terrible this year, so I guess I'll go with "Baby, Come to Me," because as predicted, I have already forgotten it.

#billboard number ones

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excelsi-or · 4 years ago

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17/01/19 - jealous (woozi)

to a boy i love right now

w.c. 2.1k (lol longer than i thought)

A/N: who doesn’t love a jealous woozi?

December 27/28/29, 2018

January 17, 2019

She rolls her eyes at Taehyung’s dumb expression, a smile on her face despite her exasperation. “Stop. We really need to finish this report.”

“We’ve been here for hours,” Taehyung whines, his chin dropping to the table. “We’ve read so many papers. Are you even retaining anything?”

“Not a matter of retaining, it’s a matter of getting it on the page.”

Taehyung huffs. “All I’m saying is that maybe we should call it a day.” He motions out the library window. “It’s dark out.”

She sighs, conceding to his point. Their formal lab report was taking longer than either of them expected. With all the references that the professor wanted to back up their evidence, their eyes were starting to go cross-eyed. And to be fair, she’d lost focus long before Taehyung had.

As they exit the school library, Taehyung promises that he’ll get the conclusion done by Friday morning so they can go over it on Saturday.

“No, no,” she snorts. “Done by Thursday morning so we can look over it Friday and hand it in by midnight.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “I’m just teasing.”

They’re about to part ways, as she’s planning to meet Jihoon. “So I’ll see you in class tomorrow? As in are you planning on showing up?”

“Missing me in microbi?” Taehyung snorts. “I’m sure Chim is keeping you company.”

“Since Ara came along, that man isn’t talking to anyone else in that class.”

Taehyung smiles wide and she slows for the pathway to the music building. From this distance, she can see Jihoon locking up.

“So you are missing me,” Taehyung chuckles.

She waves her goodbyes and turns to Jihoon when he saunters up. His eyes watch Taehyung’s retreating figure as he heads towards the parking lot. Taehyung is one of those lucky students that has his own vehicle. Jihoon gives her a once over, but says nothing.

“You ready to go?” she asks him, adjusting her backpack straps.

Jihoon offers his hand, but remains mute; which is fine. It tends to happen when Jihoon hasn’t slept much. With graduation looming, he’s been skimping on sleep. She thinks that his trip down to Busan has also sapped a lot of his energy. From all the stories he returned with, it didn’t sound as if the man had had much time to rest. So she fills the silence for the both of them, talking about how the work session with Taehyung had gone and how much of an idiot he is for skipping classes.

“Least he shows up to lab every week,” she mutters. They get off at her bus stop. Seungkwan has been raving about his mom’s food that she’d sent. His mom’s made so much that Seungkwan is inviting everyone over to share.

She’s pretty sure she and Jihoon are the last to arrive.

“Are you okay?” she asks him as they get into the elevator. Jihoon’s a quiet man, but he’s unusually quiet tonight.

Jihoon squeezes her fingers and rests his head on hers as they watch the floors light up.

“Are you and hyung fighting?” Seungkwan asks after everyone’s gone home. Hansol insisted on staying the night. He’s made himself comfy on the couch and refuses to get up anymore. She brings Seungkwan a stack of dirty plates.

“No, why?”

“I don’t know. You guys weren’t acting like you usually do.”

She stops from collecting the cups together. With rapid-fire speed, she breezes through the night. Jihoon had been distant most of the night, but also hadn’t really left her side. If anything, he’d been more touchy than usual, his hand always on her somewhere even when they were playing board games.

Hansol groans from his spot on the couch, stretching his arms over his head. He curls around a couch pillow. “Seungkwanie is just overanalyzing again.”

“He wasn’t his usual annoying self. That’s all I’m saying,” Seungkwan says.

She passes him the cups over the counter. Resting her chin in her hands, she frowns. “I didn’t really notice anything and he hasn’t said anything.”

“Well, that’s good,” Seungkwan replies quickly. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“I think we’re good.”

“You know best.” Seungkwan’s voice is definitive. “If nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong.”

Except maybe Seungkwan wasn’t wrong. After dinner at their apartment, Jihoon has been near unreachable. He responds to texts if she sends them, but each time she extends an invitation for dinner, the man claims he’s busy. From what she’s learned of Jihoon the last four months is that he likes the idea of relationships, but struggles with actually having them. So it’s been a learning curve for her to figure out where the boundaries are and what boundaries Jihoon will let her cross.

At this point in time, she wonders if Jihoon’s keeping his distance to reflect on their relationship. A lot of her friends were still in the honeymoon phase nearly a year in, so four months feels extremely soon to be reevaluating. But Jihoon has proven time and time again to be doing this relationship differently. So she knows that once he’s ready to come find her, he will.

“Taehyung, focus!” she laughs. “You asked me to help you study and you’re being impossible.”

Taehyung grins at her and adjusts himself in his seat, leaning forward to demonstrate that he’s listening. She shows him the molecule again and explains how there are two sigma d symmetry planes.

He stares hard at her drawing, but she recognizes that there is no understanding there. So she pulls out the Play-Doh, something that she figured would also help his focus. She passes him the purple-lidded tub. Then she pulls out a handful of toothpicks.

“It’s easier to make the molecule and since the set is expensive, I found this cheap alternative works too.”

Taehyung is already busy making a tiny snowman, but rather than scolding him again, she uses the small balls he’s made to use as atoms. Once he’s made enough, she shows him the molecule in 3D. His jaw drops.

“Oh my god, I can see it now!” He takes it from her and rotates it so that they’re looking down the plane. “You’re a literal genius.”

She snorts. “Genius, no. Decent teacher and patient friend, yeah.”

Taehyung rests his face against her arm and she pats his head. “This is game changing.”

“It is. So let’s do the other ones.”

When they leave the café, Taehyung asks, “So how’s your boyfriend?”

“Jihoon? He’s good.” Probably.

Taehyung smiles his kilowatt smile. “That’s good. Jungkook keeps suggesting a double date since apparently I rave about how fun studying with you is.”

She throws her head back with a laugh. “I’ll mention it to Ji next time I see him.”

He offers to walk her home since the café is near her place. She doesn’t argue, as she’s missed having someone walk her home. She hadn’t realized how accustomed to Jihoon she’d gotten until she had started making the bus ride home on her own again. It made all the dark alleys a little bit darker.

“How’s all his music going? I know Yoongi hyung was at his wit’s end near graduation.”

She shrugs. “Ji’s good under pressure. He’ll suddenly whip up four songs without blinking. Real genius at work.”

“Speak of the devil,” Taehyung says as they wander up to her apartment. Sitting on the front steps is Jihoon. Taehyung smiles at the man, but Jihoon barely musters anything in return. Taehyung shoots her a pitying smile, which must mean that he assumes Jihoon’s exhausted.

But she knows that look on Jihoon’s face. He’s mad.

Taehyung wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

She hugs him back and nods. “Yes, because you’re showing up to class.”

“I’m showing up to class,” he promises. He waves over his shoulder.

“Text me when you’re home!”

“Shall do!”

Then she turns to her angry boyfriend. He’s not mad very often, but the tightness in his jaw and the dark circles under his eyes tells her he’s also sleep deprived.

She stands there, hands on the straps of her backpack. Jihoon’s eyes are on his hands and she waits him out. Jihoon doesn’t waste words when he’s angry.

But they wind up sitting in silence for so long that her fingers start to go numb. She buries her hands in her pockets and studies him. If anger were visible, she can imagine ripples of anger on his spine.

“You’re mad,” she finally states.

Jihoon’s eyes lift to hers.

“It’s keeping you up at the studio all night.”

He waits.

“And you’ve stopped answering my texts all together, so it’s probably my fault you’re mad.”

Her mind whirs. He’s gonna make her work for it. He’s cut off communication for about a week and a half. A few days before that, she’d told him that she was going to study with—

“You’re jealous, Lee Jihoon.”

Jihoon frowns and looks away, his jaw clenching again.

Tentatively, she takes a few steps towards him and takes a seat. She leaves space between them, because she knows that Jihoon fires off if he’s angry enough. They haven’t had enough arguments for her to gauge how angry he is right now.

“Is that why you’re avoiding me? Because of Taehyung?”

“I wanted to think,” he mumbles. His voice comes out gravelly as if he hasn’t really used it much.

“And what have you been thinking about?”

“That maybe…”

She holds a hand up to stop him. “If the thought was that I’d run off with beautiful Taehyung, then Ji, you have nothing to worry about.”

“How do I have nothing to worry about?” he exclaims. Jihoon turns to her, his eyes sharp and his hair falling messily out of his face. She wants to run her hands through it desperately, but now is not the time. “He’s tall and good looking and your type.”

She blinks in surprise at the last part. “My type? I didn’t know I had a type.” She smiles slightly. “And if I had one, it’s you, Ji.”

This seems to stun him. She quickly explains. “Taehyung is beautiful, in all sense of the word. I like him; he’s a good friend to have around. But Taehyung is a lot of maintenance.” Jihoon sits up a bit straighter as she talks. “But I adore you, Lee Jihoon.” They’ve been dancing around the ‘L’ word, neither of them quite ready to drop it, but feeling it all the same. She’s put off by the weight of it; he’s scared of the commitment in it.

“I adore you and that’s not going to change just because a beautiful man breezes through my life.” Gently, she reaches for his hand and he lets her intertwine their fingers. “I have you, my own perfectly beautiful human, to entertain me.”

Jihoon snorts at the phrasing. “I’m a play thing?”

“Mm, but you don’t care, do you?” she teases.

Jihoon sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t like feeling as if I’m competing for your attention.”

“Then tell me what you want, Ji.” Jihoon tilts his head at the request. “I’m testing boundaries with you. If you know what you want, tell me.”

“I… what I really want is for you to stop talking to him.” From her expression, he quickly adds, “But I know that’s not fair. I don’t know what I want. I want…” He lets the end of the sentence hang in the air.

She brings the back of his hand to her lips and she gets up, her bum already numb. “Are you gonna come in?”

“Seungkwan home?” Jihoon stands.

“He’s home,” she confirms.

Jihoon nods and lets her lead him into the apartment. His arms wrap around her waist in the elevator, his head knocking back into the wall. “You’re getting into bed when we get upstairs,” she tells him.

Jihoon hums.

Her hand disentangles them and she tugs him after her to the door.

“Seungkwanie!” she calls, though the man is sitting at their dining table. “Ji’s here.”

“Hi hyung!”

Jihoon grumbles a response and heads straight for her room. Seungkwan watches him shuffle across the room and the light doesn’t turn on when he goes inside. Seungkwan glances back at her. “It’s only 6:30.”

“He hasn’t been sleeping,” she informs him. She places her backpack in the chair directly across from him. “Apparently we were fighting.”

Seungkwan lifts a curious eyebrow.

“Resolved now, but he’s been fighting all alone. I didn’t even know.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “Couples. I’ll never understand.”

“Don’t worry, Seungkwanie, I don’t either.”

Next: January 24, 2019

#woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen #svt #lee jihoon scenarios #tabilrn

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strwbrymoonchild · 4 years ago

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The Albums That Got Us Through 2020

We’ll save you the soliloquy, and get right to it: (skip to the bottom for the full playlist)

LaChelle’s Picks

Overture x Gaidaa

“Sonically, this album was very cathartic. Gaidaa’s songwriting is so imaginative and authentic, and I really love it when her voice hits those lush lower notes, her tone is like butter.”

Favorite tracks: Falling higher, Still Water, I Like Trouble

2. Rose in The Dark x Cleo Sol

“The timeless musicality and vocals are very reminiscent of some of my favorite classic soul artists like Angela Bofill, and Patrice Rushen but sound refreshing all the same. I would love to hear this project live but you know... COVID.”

Favorite tracks: When I’m In Your Arms, Why Don’t You, Rose in The Dark

3 & 4. Untiled (Black is) / Untitled (Rise) x Sault

“I can’t think of any projects more timely for this year than these two albums. They spoke to Black pain, weariness, and resilience in a way that felt mores insightful than preachy. A lot of the drums used on this project had an ancestral feel to them and the use of strings was extremely effective in giving it cinematic energy. The interludes also spoke to the difficult emotions many Black people grappled with this year while maintaining a musically rich sound.”

Favorite Tracks: Hard Life, Wildfires, Sorry Ain’t Enough, Why We Cry Why We Die, Free, Uncomfortable

5. The Angel You Don’t Know x Amaarae

“I first discovered Amaarae as a featured artist on one of my favorite music submissions of the year ‘NASA’ by Rvdical The Kid. I became entrenched upon my first listen to her first full-length project which is a mixture of afro-fusion, R&B, electronic, alté, and alternative hip hop. I love her animated voice and how effortlessly she glides over the track. I enjoy artists who can fuse multiple genres together and make them sound like a whole new sound”

Favorite Tracks: Fancy, Feel A Way, Céline

6. Last Year Was Weird, Vol 2. x Tkay Maidza

“This album had a lot of surprises on it. It’s a mixture of fun-loving R&B, raging nu-metal, and 808 thumping house tracks. While there’s not much fusion in the array of genres, I appreciate her ability to showcase her eclectic range.”

Favorite tracks: Shook, 24K, Don’t Call Again

7. Honey For Wounds x Ego Ella May

“This is a great self-love soundtrack. The pensiveness of this album is tempered by Ego Ella May’s jazzy vocals and even-keeled instrumentation. A very relaxing vibe to listen to during downtime or moments of solitude.”

Favorite tracks: Girls Don’t Always Sing About Boys, Table For One, Song For Bobby

8. Jaguar x Victoria Monét

“This album is oozing with sensuality, sexuality, and confidence. I love the lush vocal arrangements and the production which taps into nostalgia without being lazy or gimmicky. If you're feeling insecure, put on some lingerie, pour a glass of wine, turn this album on and you'll be feeling like a Savage Fenty brand ambassador”

Favorite tracks: Moment, Touch Me, Go There With You

9. Extra, Extra! x Lou Phelps

“ My boyfriend who is a Kaytranada fanboy put me onto this album. Haven’t heard a hip hop EP with such a fun, laid back like this in a minute. Lou’s big bro Kaytranada came through with the dancey vibes but you also get a bit of that classic boom bap energy that an old head like me loves”

Favorite tracks: Party in LA, Nike Shoe Box, Smiling

Dorian’s Picks

Pulp (Director’s Cut) x Ambré

"Ambré takes you deep into her world with sounds of a sweet lullaby, and a pulp garden full of hallucinating trips on a journey towards discovering love, vulnerability, and purpose. Overdosing on ‘Pulp’ has become a nightly ritual for me, no surprise as to why Ambré is my top artist of 2020."

Favorite tracks: free drugs, LUCIADA(EGODEATH), gucci slides

2. A Written Testimony x Jay Electronica

Jay Electronica's debut album, once heralded a myth by many, has finally seen the light of day, 10 years later. It sounds godly, rich in ancestral wisdom, paralleled with classic Hov features throughout. This album to me raps a soulful tune of Black enlightenment, and feels like a really lavish ode to the Nation of Islam.

Favorite tracks: Universal Soldier, Flux Capacitor, The Blinding

3. In Search of Lost Time x Protoje

"The Jamaican OG delivers a sonically wise lesson on life, what it means to live in our truths and light in search of happiness and prosperity as a free spirit. This album at many times served as a soundtrack to my life, a saving grace from my own insecurities and struggles amidst a very unsettling year."

Favorite tracks: In Bloom, Deliverance, Like Royalty

4. I Shine, U Shine x RIMON

"Amsterdam-based artist RIMON delivered a sonically pleasing project shortlisted with a blend of melancholy neo-soul/R&B influenced melodies. This project evokes raw relatable emotions and centers the beauty of the imperfect for full display. With each listen the lyrics pierced my heart and filled my memory of love lost and love found."

Favorite tracks: Out Of My Way, Got My Back, Downtown

5. Note to Self x Jah9

"Jah9's Note to Self, is a call to channel your divine form. Reggae has long been a genre that speaks to a higher force and existence. With the wild year we experienced, this project served as a guideline on how to battle those inner demons and live life to your fullest potential through faith."

Favorite tracks: Love Has Found I, Ma'at, New Race

6. SuperGood x Duckwrth

"The title is self-explanatory. Duckwrth gave us all that we deserved and dropped a bomb ass feel-good record. SuperGood gave me all the contemporary neo-funk grooves I've come to love about Duckwrth. Listening to this project made it easy to tune out all the noise of 2020 and just dance my sorrows away."

Favorite tracks: Quick, Coming Closer, Super Bounce

7. B7 x Brandy

"Brandy, now indie and seasoned in the industry, answers to no one and that's made clear with her experimental R&B sounds on B7. This project is fearless and sounds so different from previous Brandy albums, but delivers in that same angelic aesthetic and powerhouse vocals we've come to love. B7 is criminally underrated in my opinion and will stand the test of time. "

Favorite tracks: Rather Be, Borderline, Say Something

8. It Is What It Is x Thundercat

"Thundercat delivers another soothing jazzy-bassline record. This album feels cathartic, experiential in a sense, almost as if I'm listening to a score from an intergalactic movie set in some futuristic utopia. Best enjoyed with a spliff and/or glass of wine."

Favorite tracks: Black Qualls, DragonBall Durag, Unrequited Love

9. The ExPerience x Lila Iké

"This captivating debut EP from rising reggae siren Lila Iké will make anyone a believer. Her journey is compelling, spiritually guided, a modern tale of romance - the highs and lows of navigating young love. The way Lila belts out these reggae-R&B infused chunes pon ya head top is mesmerizing and sets the standard for Jamaica's new generation"

Favorite tracks: Forget Me, Where I'm Coming From, Thy Will

10. grae x Moses Sumney

“‘grae’, a two part album, explores the complexities of identity. Moses Sumney never quite submits to the boundaries society aims to box us in. ‘grae’ is undefined in sound, Moses gracefully flows from one end of the artistic spectrum to another without landing anywhere too long. What I love most about listening to this album besides Mose's falsetto is the high level of self-awareness, the screams of escapism, and determination to exist in free agency. "

Favorite tracks: Cut Me, Polly, Lucky Me

Rachel’s Picks

Instrospection x UMI

“After another year with no new SZA album, discovering UMI was a godsend. Her voice has that same angelic raspiness and lyrics that sit with you long after the first listen. What sets her and this record apart is how UMI’s lyrics recognize her own faults and the faults of others in a way that is so graceful that it never comes across as self-deprecating or accusatory. Listening to Introspection, you can’t help but introspect your life the way UMI does on this album.”

Favorite tracks: Introspection, Open Up, Pretty Girl hi!

2. Girlhood x Girlhood

“This electropop duo’s vocalist, Tessa Cavanna, has a voice reminiscent of the late artists Amy Winehouse and Sharon Jones, and with their neo-soul, 90’s inspired sound being so colorful, it’s impossible to get sick of listening to this album.”

Favorite tracks: Keep On, It Might Take a Woman, My Boy

3. Who Cares? x Abby Jasmine

“Released during the reclusive days of stay-at-home orders, Jasmine’s tracks on her sophomore album made me nostalgic for parties that were once filled with smoke, close friends, and good music. Her brutally honest lyrics, progressive production, and her overall confidence were comforting during a year of instability and empty dancefloors.”

Favorite tracks: Stay With Me, Artificial Lover, Groovy

4. Texas Sun x Khruangbin & Leon Bridges

“Two Texan artists came together and were able to use Bridge’s soulful and textured tone and the fluidity of the psychedelic-funk trio Khruangbin's sound, to create a desolate Texas landscape. Listening to the EP feels like driving with all the windows rolled down, feeling the sun’s heat on your skin.”

Favorite tracks: Texas Sun, Midnight, C-Side

5. They Call Me Disco x Ric Wilson & Terrace Martin

“In a year of so much grief, it is refreshing to hear music that sounds like it was as fun to make as it was to listen to. Wilson and Martin’s rhythmically dynamic collaboration prefaced a summer filled with social media’s fascination and nostalgia for the glittery freeness of the 70’s while still fitting into their respective genres of hip-hop and R&B.”

Favorite track: Don’t Kill the Wave, Move Like This, Chicago Bae

Lionnal’s Picks

Dinner Party x Terrace Martin, Robert Glasper. 9th Wonder, & Kamasi Washington

"These Four legendary musicians came together and gave us an album full of beautiful vocals over smooth, jazzy, soul instrumentals."

Favorite tracks: Freeze Tag, LUV U, Love You Bad

2. Burden of Proof x Benny The Butcher

"This album feels like a vintage east coast rap album. Hit-Boy’s luxury production matched with Benny’s grimey delivery is everything a classic rap fan would ever need."

Favorite tracks: One Way Flight, Burden of Proof, War Paint

3. Sin Miedo x Kali Uchis

"I didn’t know how I would take to an album primarily in Spanish, but Kali’s intoxicating and seductive vibe still found a way to draw me in."

Favorite tracks: Telepatia, //aguardiente y limón %ᵕ‿‿ᵕ%, Quiero Sentirme Bien

4. Fuck The World x Brent Fayaiz

"Brent Faiyaz’s personality is what makes this album so great. His cool and confident approach to tracks make for a unique spin on modern R&B and it’s honestly very refreshing."

Favorite tracks: Clouded, Been Away, Let Me Know

LISTEN TO THE FULL PLAYLIST BELOW

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pietrotheavenger · 5 years ago

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voices

summary: when your soulmate sings, you can hear it.

pairings: au!bucky barnes x fem!reader, thor x steve

warnings: swearing, alcohol

a/n: it’s currently midnight and if you know me then you know i HATE revising my work. i wrote this in one sitting and i cannot be bothered to revise this. don’t be mean pls

bucky’s soulmate was always singing. always. he liked to think that she did it on purpose, to entertain him. he absolutely loved listening to her singing. he never listened to music because of her. he didn’t want to listen to something that wasn’t her. she made music into something special to him. he wanted to keep the songs that she sang to him a secret. he didn’t want to hear them on the radio. he learned new songs from her, all the time. but, sometimes her constant singing was inconvenient.

he was out getting coffee with one of his friends, sam. they were chatting when she started singing. bucky held up a finger and pointed to his ear. “she’s singing,” he whispered.

“it’s been too much, i’ve been on the side, and i’m waiting.”

“man, she’s always singing,” sam rolled his eyes.

“i swear she has the most beautiful voice i’ve ever heard. plus, i love this song,” the brunette responded, twirling his hair around his finger as he softly sang along.

“i’ve got a little time, maybe all night, if i’m patient.”

“you know what? maybe i’ll sing to my soulmate,” sam scoffed, and began singing. he crossed his arms over his chest as he sang some random pop song.

“what’s on your mind? i can never read you.”

the distant smile didn’t leave bucky’s face as he closed his eyes. he savored her voice. she faltered slightly when he began singing back to her, but continued on. he had his moments of singing, but they had never sung together before. it was a common thing between soulmates to do duets.

“i always leave you crying when we fight, but i don’t mean to.”

sometimes, soulmates dreamt of each other. he yearned to see her in his dreams. he knew that they didn’t have the connection that others had. one of his friends, natasha and her soulmate were always singing to each other. they developed their soulmate bond and she dreamt of her soulmate.

“no, love don’t come easy. especially when you’re loving me.”

bucky was itching to meet her. he had been waiting his whole life. he was ready. he already felt such immense love towards her just by hearing her singing. he melted on the inside every time she started up.

“it’s never enough for the both of us, so sorry. couldn’t have known it would ever be this hard.”

if he didn’t hear her sing at least once a day, he would panic. it was quite unusual, but he understood that sometimes she would get busy, or maybe she was feeling sick, or maybe sad. none of those thoughts were able to reassure him. in those rare cases, he would sing to her.

“we had it all but we lost and that’s our fault.”

he hoped that she liked his singing, and that it comforted her. throughout his childhood, his parents would always listen to frank sinatra, so that’s what he would sing to her. when he was done, she would sing back a few lines of the chorus to let him know she was there but not wanting to sing, or a whole song.

“i should be here waiting for you to answer my call. but i’m never giving up on what, i’ve been focusing on putting me first.”

his parents were soulmates and they would always sing frank sinatra to each other. he liked that he shared something so special to his parents, with his own soulmate. she didn’t know it, of course, but he still found it heartwarming.

“still could never see you with somebody else. i can’t even live with being by myself. that’s the part of me that really needs your help.”

“is she done yet?” sam questioned.

“no, hush,” bucky replied.

“lately, i haven’t been doing very well. that’s the difference between heaven and hell.”

“aren’t you singing to your girl?” bucky stopped his quiet singing to quickly ask his friend.

“i feel heaven when you’re here with me. i feel hell every time you leave.”

“she started singing, ‘shut up,’ to me,” sam grumbled. bucky let out a deep belly laugh.

“but i need to get you off of my back. i gotta get you off of my back.”

he had heard her giggle once. he believed it to be a mistake of the soulmate bond. he had also heard stories where the bond mistook laughter for music. her laugh sounded like little bells ringing. he knew that he shouldn’t love someone that he didn’t know, but he couldn’t help it. she was already so perfect.

“wished that we would never take it this far. here we are, going back and forth.”

some people had romantic relationships before they met their soulmate. bucky didn’t understand this. there’s one person specifically made for every person on the planet, why can’t they just wait to meet them? those flimsy relationships will be worth nothing to how someone feels when they’re with their soulmate.

“i hoped we would never make it this far. but now, i gotta find my worth.”

he truly wanted nothing more than to meet her. he wanted to feel complete. like a whole person. his parents had both said that when they were with each other, they felt at peace with themselves. he desired that with all of his being.

“she’s done,” bucky smiled. “i can’t wait to meet her. and i can’t wait for you to hear her singing.”

“don’t get ahead of yourself, barnes.”

if he didn’t know that the voice in his head was his soulmate, bucky would’ve wholeheartedly believed that his childhood best friend, steve, was his soulmate. there was no one who understood him quite like steve. they had been through everything together. but, alas, the voice in bucky’s head was feminine, and steve had met his soulmate, thor, in high school. it was steve and thor who dragged him out of the house on a friday night that was just like all the others. lately, all of his days seemed to bleed into one. he could feel himself edging towards a downward spiral. his friends could feel it, too.

“the only problem is i see you in colors that don’t exist,” she began singing while thor was speaking to bucky. he zoned out for a moment as she continued.

“in colors that don’t even exist, girl. i see the future in your eyes. i see my past and all my sins. i swear to god, i see god when you’re touching on my skin.”

“bucky? you there?” thor raised an eyebrow. he lifted his beer up to his mouth.

“sorry, she was singing to me,” he sheepishly apologized.

“it’s okay. i used to have to lay down every time steve sang to me,” thor gazed lovingly at his soulmate who was making conversation with the bartender.

“that bad, huh?” bucky joked. “where are we, anyway?” he asked, looking around. she began humming in his ear, and he tried his hardest to pay attention to the blond man in front of him.

“it’s a new karaoke bar! steve heard about it from his coworkers, i believe,” he replied. he stroked his beard before asking, “have you been to one before?”

bucky innocently shook his head, brown locks swaying back and forth. “i’ve seen them in movies, though.”

“you’ll have so much fun! we should do a duet,” thor insisted. “no, a trio.”

“i don’t know about that,” bucky laughed nervously.

just then, steve came over, handing bucky a beer. he gave thor a kiss and said, “what’re you lot talking about?”

“bucky agreed to doing a group performance!” thor exclaimed.

“actually-” the man in question began, but was cut off by his best friend.

“fuck yeah! what’s the game plan?” steve’s childish smile reminded bucky so much of their upbringing together, that he let himself get roped into the singing triad. he nursed his beer as his friends argued over a song. he ended up ordering two shoes of vodka and threw them back to accelerate his getting drunk process.

“thanks for joining us today, buck,” steve beamed. “i know that sometimes it’s hard for you to reach out when you need us, but we’re always here for you. i’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal,” he put his hand on his shoulder.

bucky opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a shout from the stage. “hello new york!” a small brunette lady was the owner of the voice. she was clearly intoxicated as was her giggling friend, standing next to her. he was immediately transfixed by her friend. her lips were painted red and curved into the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. she wore a silk powder blue top which she tied in a knot at the top of her flattering black jeans. the top buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing her collarbones and allowing her to show off some layered necklaces. she teetered in a pair of forest green heeled boots, excitedly bouncing from one foot to another. “i am jane foster, and this is y/n y/l/n!” the original lady yelled into her microphone.

“hi, i’m y/n,” she smiled and waved, laughing. her word were slightly slurring together. bucky repeated her name to himself, under his breath.

“and we are,” jane began by herself but was joined by y/n for the last word, “*NSYNC!” the beginning chords of it’s gonna be me were being played.

“you might have been hurt, babe. that ain’t no lie!” jane sang very loudly. their group of friends near the stage cheered. y/n blew them a kiss before stumbling and regaining her balance and collapsing into giggles as jane continued through the song. “you’ve seen them all come and go, oh. i remember you told me that it made you believe in no man, no cry. maybe that’s why…”

y/n began singing with jane for the chorus and the minute he heard her voice, he got goosebumps. his soulmate sang right along in his head. “every little thing i do never seems enough for you. you don’t want to lose it again. but i’m not like them. baby, when you finally get to love somebody. guess what? it’s gonna be me.”

“wait a fucking minute,” he said to himself, his eyebrows drawing together.

she began her solo, “you’ve got no choice, babe. but to move on, and you know, there ain’t no time to waste. you’re just too blind to see but in the end, you know it’s gonna be me. you can’t deny so just tell me why.”

they went into the chorus for the second time and bucky jumped out of his seat and screamed into steve’s face. “that’s my fucking soulmate!” and pointed at the stage.

“are you serious?” steve gaped.

“yes!”

“justin or jc?”

“jc!”

“it’s our turn next!” thor yelled, grabbing both of their hands and pulling them through the bar to the side of the stage.

“that’s my soulmate,” bucky whispered as she took her bows and staggered off the other side of the stage before he was pushed onto it and handed a microphone. he held onto the microphone like he would die if he let go.

“how are we feeling!” steve howled. thor talked to whoever was in charge of the music on the side before jumping up. “we are steve,” the said man placed his hand on his chest before pointing to his best friend, who was looking quite like a deer in the headlights, “bucky!” he finally gestured to his soulmate, “and thor!” the music started up and the crowd screamed in recognition.

“i can’t stop this feeling deep inside of me. girl, you just don’t realize what you do to me,” steve and thor sang together. steve looked at bucky encouragingly, wrapping his arms around his shoulder as he shakily began singing, looking straight into the crowd and at her. “when you hold me, in your arms so tight. you let me know everything’s alright. i’m hooked on a feeling.”

she was chatting to one of her friends but when he started singing, she whipped her head to the stage, her eyes wide and her lips parted. they made eye contact for the first time and electricity passed between them. he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. he kept singing, just letting his mouth move. he didn’t know if he was singing the right thing, but by the look of joy on steve’s face, he knew he was doing something right. he let his gaze fall away from her before it flickered back. he drank her right up.

when their song was completed, they linked hands and bowed in front of the crowd. bucky practically jumped off of the stage at the first opportunity he got. she had rushed up him, grasping his arm. “did you hear me?” she asked.

“i can’t hear you, it’s too loud!” he yelled back.

she pulled him away from the stage, to the bar, before repeating her question. “did you hear me?” he nodded his head. he returned the question and she nodded back. “are you my soulmate?” her voice was so quiet that he wasn’t entirely sure if he heard her.

“only if you don’t mind me singing frank sinatra all the time,” bucky responded.

her face broke into a smile and she threw her arms around his neck. he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight. he deeply inhaled, savoring every moment. when she pulled away, he gingerly placed his hand on her cheek, slowly moving it to thread his fingers through her hair. he dipped his head down and whispered, “is this okay?” his breath was hot on her lips. she nodded. his lips met hers and for a moment, the universe burned white-hot.

infinity tags:

@ssweet-empowerment ; @stardustandbucky ; @abuckyrogersworld ; @freightcarcap ; @c-a-v-a-l-r-y ; @coffeebooksandfandom ; @somethingmoreclever ; @2dreamcatcher8 ; @illegalportkey ; @fuckthatfeeling ; @xxashy999xx ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @tuliptx ; @wwhitewwolff ; @thisismysecrethappyplace ; @appreciating-chase-brody ; @renanyx ; @maladaptive-ninja-returns ; @marvelrose ; @sophiealiice ; @dreamsfollowed99 ; @galacticstxrdust ; @fitzsimmons-is-forever ; @dumblani ; @i-padfootblack-things ;

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #the winter soldier x reader #thor x steve #thorsteve #thundershield #marvel #fanfiction #soulmate

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szopenhauer · 4 years ago

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Grossest thing you’ve seen in a bathroom? pee, poop and blood mixed with vomit all over the place Do you consider your family dysfunctional? all families are toxic, more or less Do you hate people who act like everything is fine when its not? I hate those people, they both want you to leave them alone and guess, they’re annoyed with the fact you wanna know as much as you not caring about them, never satisfied, then blame everybody else, how are we supposed to act if we feel you don’t trust us enough to tell the truth? it’s your own fault! we also have problems, not everything’s about you, if you prefer to kill yourself than speak up, that’s your choice but it means you’re a coward, I’m tired of that behavior

Ever had a body piercing ripped out? never had a piercing so I’m lucky not to be bullied this way

Can you sew/croshet/knit? I know basics but I have no patience so it’s not my hobby Do you put the cap back on the toothpaste after using it? of course :o Have you shot off a firework? never, it’s dangerous, I prefer to look and from afar Are you offended when you see women breast feeding? no

Do you hate when people keep things from you? if we’re close then sure Can you multitask? I can XD

*działam na dwa fronty, boobs, albo na tyłach* Are you too sensitive? hypersensitive Who wears the pants in the relationship? who wears the socks and cowboy hat tho?

If you were given three things to make you happy, what would these be? health, money and no worries How would you rank the following in importance: family, career, love life? family and love life then career as I’m not interested in it

Which would you prefer: having a baby without a partner or a partner without a baby? partner without a baby but tbh it would be better to raise a baby without a partner if I decided to have a kid (I don’t want children though) as there wouldn’t be disagreements on how to nor risk of arguments and then divorce in general which would be super hard for the little one

Do you think God is real, and why? sigh...

Do you believe in giving people second chances, and why? rarely as it’s like putting your hand into fire hoping it will be cold this time, people usually change for worse - not better Do you think people fall in love because the right person has arrived, or because the time is right (regardless of whom the person is that they fall in love with)? because of other reasons usually as I wouldn’t call their relationships LOVE, they’re just desperate, scared of being lonely How important is trust in a relationship? I don’t think I can trust someone completely but still it’s very important to me to trust them as much as I am capable to - if I can’t trust them at all then it won’t work How do you feel about infidelity? it makes people feel like they’re not enough and they also get paranoid later, it causes trauma, person who was cheated on will always be afraid to trust another human being in case someone “better” will show up, nobody is perfect but it’s better if you break up than do smth romantic or sexual behind your partner’s back, nobody deserves it, if you can’t be with one person only then either do open relationships or polyamory or just don’t commit to anyone - one night stands or something - infidelity is caused by wanting more and being impulsive, liking adrenaline, risky behavior, you are some sort of an abuser, not just a liar, because you’re hurting someone who’s supposed to be closest to you, intoxication isn’t an excuse, if you can’t keep it in your pants when you’re drunk then don’t drink too much or publicly - simple as that, love is a promise and you’re breaking it for fun, someone said today that it’s like checking if another branch will snap while still holding another - sounds careful but that’s not the point - it’s just that you should sit on it (stability) instead of jumping trees after you already commited to one of them and made a nest on it, you will break all of the branches (other people) and you will end up on the ground anyway - alone, who wants to be with a cheater? honestly - rapist will always stay rapist even if he won’t rape again and so is the cheating person - they might change but fear will always be a part of their partner for sure, dating is like a competition for many, trying until you find the best match, always looking around, never warming up to anyone in case there’s a better opportunity, constant game that make us anxious, showing off you’re the best player among all and... you actually are a player in both of this word’s definitions, sadly What quality in a person do you fall in love with? it’s not a single separate thing but someone whole I believe, I tried to explain that to myself but it’s very hard, there are some traits I might like more, go for, see as necessities but I’m unable to list them for now - maybe later/someday Do you find it difficult to admit that you are wrong, and why? I am - I don’t care about winning, I want truth and justice, I prefer to be right but without admitting I’m wrong that can’t happen Which would you prefer in a romantic partner: a dreamer or an achiever? dreamer, I dislike overly ambitious and workaholic people What do you think are the two things that prevent people from realizing their dreams? money issues and health problems or time

So the world is dying to know the longest you’ve ever been on an airplane. 0 hours

Speaking of airplanes, can you sleep on them easily or no? no idea

So if I were to touch the place you last itched, would it be awkward? sorta

Have you ever come close to drowning? it was close in my opinion

Is the window in this room currently open or closed? closed

Is your phone fully charged right now? it is indeed

If you gave yourself a symbol (ex: star) to represent you, it would be…? not sure

Combine your two favorite animals. What kind of animal do you get? raccoon + elephant?

If I gave you a box of chocolates, which would you hope to get? I prefer something else than a box of chocolates

Have you ever caught your clothes on fire before? omg luckily not

Are you any good at improv? been told

Do you have any special handshakes with friends? I don’t have... friends :x

Are you better at writing fiction or nonfiction? I’m good at both but I prefer fiction

How many times does the letter ’t’ occur in your full name? once

Last song you heard? Crystal Castles - Suffocation Reason you last threw up? meds withdrawal How many pairs of flip flops do you own? zero Do you ever pick up pennies for good luck? I pick up all coins that I find and give them to my dad Something you wear all the time that you’d feel naked without? panties

If you have younger siblings, how old were you when your siblings were born? not applicable Would you ever pick up gum from the ground and eat it? hell no Have you ever gotten stitches? nope

Think back to the last thing you drank. Did you drink it using a straw? I didn’t Is the sun shining? it’s almost midnight Where did you go today? shopping Have you ever taken a survey while under the influence of drugs or alcohol? I don’t drink or take illegal drugs Where will you be in an hour? in my bed Is anyone irritating you? not atm unless I can count myself Have your parents ever threatened to throw your things away because your room was messy? sorta Is your shirt pink? it’s mostly white Are you going to do more surveys? it’s late and I’m commited to finish this one Who is the most complicated person in your life right now? ... me? Have you ever video chatted with someone you met online? yep Are you hungry or thirsty right now? thirsty Do you own a pair of gumboots? eww, gross Have you ever worked somewhere where you had to clean the toilets? I might Do you rate people’s attractiveness on a scale of 1-10? rating 1-10 is very hard for me Is there anything that you could cry about right now? shitload of reasons When was the last time you used Facebook? today like every other day Do you have a PO Box or does your mail get sent straight to your house? our house How many vowels are in your street name? 4 Did you share baths with your siblings/cousins when you were a child? I did not Have you ever been a member of an online dating site? couple Do you know what your neighbours even look like? obvi Do you put ketchup on your fries? yuk

What color was the last swimsuit you wore? uh oh I should check that in my photo album in pics from middle school

Is your dream job attainable? they ain’t

Have you read a newspaper today? we don’t buy/read newspapers

Do you have to go to school or work tomorrow? I’m done with school and am unemployed

Have you ever been to a drive-in theatre? no

Have you ever taken classes for a musical instrument? guitar

Have you ever been on vacation with someone other than your family? camp

Do you live with your parents? still

Are there any embarrassing school pictures of you anywhere in your house? there are

What moment in your life have you been most scared? constantly now last half year

Do you have any exes you can’t stand anymore? What happened to cause you to feel that way about them? long story

Do you ever make your own surveys, or just take them? I make them but barely ever

Are you more of a phone or a computer person? computer

Do you like to cook, or do you prefer when other people cook for you? prefer them to cook for me

How old do you think you’ll be when you move out on your own? hope that this will happen soon

Do you have a job? If so, where do you work? If not, do you want one? I need one

Have you ever ripped your pants in public? even recently

Have you ever thought someone was talking to you, but it turned out they were on the phone? Did you play it off? possibly

Do you know anybody that has severe allergies? can we not talk about it?...

Who was the last person you slow danced with? my gf

Do you ever ride the city bus? How much does it cost you? often, nothing as I’m disabled

Do you say ‘like’ a lot? used to

Do you scream out the answers while watching game shows on TV? at times I did

Do you ever go into photobooths? yay!

What bill do you hate paying the most? I’d hate paying rent as it’s idiotically high

What’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? everywhere can be romantic with a right person

What was your first car? none yet

Favorite guilty pleasure? personal

What celeb do you think resembles you best? basing on look? Cole Sprouse or Maisie Williams but with Juno Temple body

Who from high school would you like to run in to? hmm...

Start a new career or relationship? just get a job as I’m taken

Are any of your toes connected? I don’t have webbed toes

What was the last thing you dreamed about? running from the police... w klapkach

What color is your bedroom carpet? no carpet Have you ever had a black and white cat? all black Would you rather have an STD or share a bed with Michael Jackson? life chose for me and honestly this is probably the first time I’m happy about it Do you have any wallpaper in your house? I wish How many pairs of underwear do you own? lots of panties but not enough bras Who was your primary/elemantary school’s most popular girl? E.O. and A.M. Would you like to learn to play the harp? meh Are your feet ticklish? very and I hate that Do you have a black dog? it’s partially black Who has the prettiest toes, that you know of? feet are disgusting What’s your least favorite season? winter

Do you enjoy walks? sure Can you roll your tongue? I can Would you eat a live spider for one million dollars? gimme Would you forgive someone for cheating? hard to tell Have you seen A Clockwork Orange? not interested Do you like to read? occasionally re you a grumpy person? often Do you like cotton candy? never tried and don’t wanna Rap or pop? pop What’s the weirdest flavor of ice cream you’ve tried? rose, amazing! Love or lust? love Do you remember lyrics easily? am I the only one who don’t? :(

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tarry-a-lot · 4 years ago

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French Musical Recommendations?/review (Part 3)

This is a mix between recommendations and shows I don’t like and shows I just know exist but don't know a lot about. Even if I’m not too much a fan of some of the show I would still check these shows out for the fun of it, maybe its not my cup of tea but it is for someone else. Again my French is lacking so if the lyrics aren’t great I wouldn’t really know unless I sat down and read them which I didn’t do.

Robin des Bois (2013):

what to say about this show... I’ll start with the summary: Robin Hood and Marianne break up pre-show and have their own groups going on. Marianne also has a son with robin but robin has no idea about him. Sheriff of Nottingham starts attacking so Marianne asks robin for help. Also the sheriff figures out about robin’s son and so he imprisons the kid and surprise! there a romance between Nottingham’s daughter and Robin Hood’s son.

Yep, haven’t seen the show, really don’t mind the plot sounds interesting enough. I’ve only listened to the soundtrack once and all I got to say is that it’s not great. The cast is lovely and look really sweet and friendly with each other, but all the songs really just sound like basic pop. To be clear without understanding the lyrics and just listening to it with not visuals, I found the soundtrack quite boring, so maybe I’m just missing something. My favourite songs are “Le flèche et la cible,” (the piano makes it sound like an anime opening or something, liked the drums too, and the vocals are nice) and “On est là” (it’s a really weird one, I couldn’t put my finger on it but after playing it for someone I got the decisive answer of it is very 80′s, the instrumentals really threw me off but hey it’s catchy). Also some songs had a bass line that also threw me off, just wasn’t expecting it. like the one in “la Providence,” maybe it’s just me. And one last thing about the songs, what the hell is ”Notting hill Nottingham” like that title is also the chorus and I’m just?? maybe if I understood the rest of the lyrics it would make sense? aside from the debatable chorus line, the drums are a blast in this song. Clips and music videos available on YouTube along with a behind the scenes two part video on the official musical’s channel.

Non-Music: well the costumes are ok, don’t love them but don’t hate them either, though friar tuck’s is debatable, from the bits I’ve seen most of the background is done with a screen which is fine, it’s more of a concert style show anyway, I’m a big fan of the ladder trees though, the dancing and acrobatics is probably the highlight of the show (again only saw bits but it looks good)

Dracula l'amour plus fort que la mort (2012): This is different from the Frank Wildhorn Dracula musical, Dracula: A chamber Musical and the Swedish Dracula musical. Unsurprisingly this musical is based on Stoker Dracula telling which I never read so I don’t know how much it follows that text. It was also inspired by the 1992 Coppola film (which again I have never watched). I won’t be too helpful about plot summary but it follows the general novel plot with Jonathan Harker engaged with Mina Murray goes off to Dracula’s castle for work. Things happen, the issue with Lucy occurs then Mina is targeted by Dracula and Harker with the Dr. Seward and Helsing go to kill Dracula to save Mina. There also seems to be a subplot where Mina was Dracula’s lover in a past life, which is shown through dance sequences throughout the show.Music wise it’s mainly rock pop which is up my alley. Personally, just based on music and not lyrics I like “Encore”, “Elles”, “ Le Ciel et l'Enfer” “ La Dernière danse” and maybe “L'Amour et son Contraire”. The full show is available on YouTube.

Non-music: This show goes hard on edgy imagery. I personally quite liked the general over the top modernish gothic vibe. The dancers are great and quite liked some of the limited palette scene. The opening shadow puppet scene was cool. The only part I really had issue with is maybe the CGI 3d video scene. It was cool at times but the CGI is not great which is not their fault, but kind of distracted me. Also if you watch it there is this scene where Harker is laying in a large Pieta statue (minus the Jesus) and it’s just great. Like edgy church imagery with vampires? sign me up. There’s also this Vampire dream sequence in a bed because of course every vampire musical needs one (Tanz der Vampire if you know what I mean). Harker is in bed and vampire women come out from the bed (the bed itself is a hollow prop where dancers are hiding within and pop out from the holes hidden by the puffy bedding), the bed itself could have been more decorative with posts (like tanz) but still a really cool scene, Almost forgot, Mina and Dracula are played by dancers so they don’t really sing, especially Dracula he does not speak at all. Costumes are fun to look at, some are the best but I appreciated the general look of the show so I’m not that bothered. I strangely grew to like the spiney Dracula costumes, I think the fact he didn’t talk and just danced helped me like the costume more.

Overall, fun show so if pop rock is your vibe this show you should check it out.

Cindy Cendrillion (2002): This show is not good, but I had a blast laughing about it as I watched it so I recommend it. Let me clarify, my dislike is not due to the cast, in general I thought singing and dancing and all that were really good, what gets me is how dated it is now (it is really early 2000’s vibes and some of the plot is debatable). Show is available split into two acts on YouTube.

So the plot is pretty much a retelling of the Cinderella story in a modern early 2000′s setting. Cindy (Cinderella) is the daughter of an recently disappeared Irish pilot. and she lives with her step mother and sisters who are mean to her. She has a passion for dancing the jig, I’m assuming they are referencing Irish step to a certain degree. She goes out in night to dance but her step-mother threatens to kick her out if she doesn’t come home before midnight. A super star named Ricky (Prince Charming) has a Birthday ball and sees Cindy and falls in love. Also Ricky had a model Fiancée Judy who he breaks it off with to pursue Cindy. Spoilers now... Ricky writes a song where one can dance “the jig” to so they hold a competition to find a dancer for it, guess who wins? Cindy.. they fall in love... but Judy realises it’s all over for her and Ricky ands faxes him so mean message then commits suicide by overdosing on drugs. Cindy gets scared and leaves Ricky to Ireland. Ricky tracks her down and they fly away in a spaceship?! honestly this plot is just sure something.

Okay.... um if you read the spoiler section of the summary you’ll know how wild this show is. For those who haven’t warning there is an suicide by overdosing on drugs in the show. Music wise it’s alright, I watched the show but all the songs are quite forgettable because I was so distracted by the plot. Again the vocals are nice so perhaps I just need to listen to audio only, though I’m unsure about some of the lyrics.

Non-Music: I have so much to rant about this show. First off it’s just weird that her Irish pilot dad keeps appearing in like spiritual form. Also Cindy is not spectacular at dancing, which is hilarious during the jig dancing competition you have actual dancer ensemble members doing cool moves and in general good dancing but at the end Cindy comes stepping around and twirling a bit, the same choreography she does every time she danced the jug in the show and then wins the competition. Honestly, they should of just done full Irish step dancing and had the actress trained in it or to be more practical had a double for Cindy that was obscured to trick the audience into thinking this double was Cindy. The actress was lovely and maybe she can dance but “the jig” choreography was so pathetic compared to the ensemble’s part, even the ensemble part was weird.. maybe I just don’t understand what “jig” dancing is. Also the ending was so random to me, maybe it’s because of my lacking French, I get there were references to space throughout the show but WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ENDING. Well stage wise it was interesting at parts. I like the large center column piece that had platforms on it that moved around the pillar. Cindy’s love song to Ricky with her in front of a large Ricky Magazine and two screens showing zoom ups on Ricky was weird. Finally, costumes, really dated and tacky but I think they were quite fun. The only complaint I really have is Ricky, he wears this half tank top half leather jacket look, and it’s really a single tiddy out look.

Starmania (1979): Let me start by saying I DON’T hate this show I just know little about it. I’ve watched bits a few years ago and only really recall one song. It’s one of THE French musicals, I mean I wouldn’t know for certain but you’ll see it’s quite popular and covered by newer musicals cast member (like Mozart L’Opera Rock). The photo is from a more recent production which is different from the original costumes. As a show it’s set in a futuristic society so there is some surreal techno outfits and set pieces, which are actually quite cool. It’s pretty much about a gang called the Black Stars who are trying to rebel against a billionaire turned politician Zéro Janvier. There is romance plots, the wiki has more info on that. In general, the singing is great and from the parts I’ve seen it looks interesting despite the show aesthetic being really not my thing. Full versions of the show are available on YouTube, the production done in English is also posted on YouTube. I would say if you are trying to get into French Musicals this is a good one to listen to as well as it’s kind of a classic but I hesitate as the visuals look a bit weird due to the futuristic element (kind of remind me if starlight Express when it comes to costume) but if this isn’t you cup of tea there are plenty of other shows as well.

Résiste (2015): It’s a French Jukebox Musical. It’s one of those one artist jukebox musicals, so all the songs were originally sung by France Gall and written by Michel Berger. It’s about five friends (I think they’re friends), two of whom are sisters. The sisters work with their dad at the family bar/night club. The plot revolves around something tragic happening and the five friends trying to deal and grow from it? (probably something to do with the night club)I haven't seen it so I have no idea what the tragic event is. I didn’t know any of the songs before this musical but it’s quite catchy and fun. Clips of the show and songs are available on YouTube.

#French musicals #résiste #starmania #robin des bois #cindy #cendrillion #dracula l'amour plus fort que la mort #dracula #france gall #michel berger #theatre #rambling #musicals

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jaeminlore · 6 years ago

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I Will Be There | Haechan

playlist | pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

summary: and there is no mountain too high, no river too wide. sing out this song; i will be there by your side.

words: 5.9k

category: prince!donghyuck, fluff, angst

warning(s): crying, panic attacks(ish?), very minor character death, slight bullying(?)

When spring hits the Eastern Kingdom, everyone seems to awaken from a deep slumber. The quickening streams and babbling brooks rise again as their once smooth floor is now trodden upon by the many boots of nobles and villagers alike.

This is perhaps why the crown prince has found favor in the stream behind the palace. His pants are rolled up to his knees, as his shirtsleeves are to his elbows. When he bends down and grabs a few pebbles, his braces slip off one of his shoulders.

"Your Highness," you manage a sigh as you look up from your current task of unclipping white sheets off of the clothesline. The many clothing pins clipped to your apron begin to feel heavy, but you can't feel bothered to move them. "Please watch your wardrobe. The matron will have my head if I return them in such a disarray."

Prince Donghyuck finds humor in your small request. In defiance, he clips his braces off and tosses them ashore, laughing at your distress. "There. Now you don't have to worry."

The robin's egg blue shirt he wears is wrinkled, and while you know the matron will have your head, seeing the bright smile on the prince's face keeps you from making any more requests. You simply move the baskets of clean laundry away from the spring that he insists on splashing everywhere.

Prince Donghyuck's smile is as wide as the river itself. After a bleak winter of frozen ponds and lakes, it's no wonder that everyone who can is determined to go for a morning swim. After all, the spring sun is quite pleasant in the Eastern Kingdom, warming the water and the grass into a pleasant playground.

You regret wearing your heavier wool dress outside. But it's only the first day of spring, and you weren't sure if the weather would've gotten the memo yet.

The prince, however, puts all of his trust in the sun and it's warmth. This is why his guard is down, the coat his guard must've made him wear is discarded in the grass with his boots. He's a sight to behold, with his brown curls stuck to his forehead and fists filled with whatever pretty pebbles he keeps picking out of the mud.

You can only imagine how dirty he'll be by the end of the day. Somehow, being a maidservant of the Eastern Kingdom seems so much easier than being Prince Donghyuck's personal guard. He has a knack for dirtying up anything he wears, sure, but he's wonderful at getting into trouble.

All you have to do is protect the prince from grass stains on his royal trousers. You don't have to protect him from his own curious self.

You fold the last of the sheets and spare him a quizzical glance. He seems to be one with the brook, one with the small currents as they lap at his ankles. Even his joyous laugh carries through the woods in a similar tone to the rushing water.

It almost makes you roll your eyes at the irony. How convenient that a prince would embody the very symbol of his kingdom.

"I should return to the palace," you say to yourself, tired of pining for a boy you can never have.

So you do.

❀

There is a festival in the main ballroom of the palace. Spring is worth celebrating, as the queen and king often speak of.

Flowers in their assorted colors hang from the ceiling like a floral sky, concealing nobles in an aromatic haven. You briefly hope the kitchen boy, Jisung, doesn't come up here. His allergies would be no match for this kind of scenery.

Lively music, like the harp and flute, play a tune that has many noblemen on their feet, asking their chosen lady for a brief dance.

Indeed, you watch as Prince Donghyuck himself steps forward to ask a noblewoman of the Northern Kingdom for a dance. She accepts with a short giggle, and you watch as he pulls her towards the middle of the floor.

The prince has always loved festivals. Of course, it's when he has the freedom to dance and sing as he pleases, while all the elders get too drunk to notice.

You love the festivals too, mostly because it's your job to carry around trays of appetizers and flukes of white wine. You love it because it gives you an excuse to look at the prince, and if anyone asks, it'll be because you were simply wondering if he'd like a drink.

Dancing would make anyone parched, of course.

His shirt is untucked under his embezzled coat, and while you want to chide him for wrinkling a shirt you spent so long steaming, you can't help but find it all too adorable. Besides, no one else seems to mind; why should you?

When a new song plays, the queen announces the official start of spring. This is perhaps the best part of the spring festival, because this is where the servants hand out flower crowns to everyone.

Prince Donghyuck grabs the one specifically made for him. The blood red roses and powder pink carnations look absolutely mesmerizing sitting atop the prince's brown hair. He laughs at something the noblewoman says, and a piece of your heart jolts.

You ignore it and survey the room.

No one starts a drunken fight or makes any unnecessary messes. Instead, it's a bright and happy celebration that ends in small talk as royals sit upon cushions and lazily sip their wine. Flowers drop from their once-secure places and onto the floor, which brings about a roar of laughter from the prince himself.

He should get to bed. He always stays up late and then spends his mornings gallivanting around the palace, complaining that his servants should've made him sleep earlier.

And you would agree, truly, but he seems so alive at night, beneath the candlelight of the palace. He shines as if it is the dewy morning, and his subjects the awaiting clovers. It's a different sort of beautiful and you don't particularly want to interrupt it.

So you don't, and you suffer the prince's obsessive whining the next morning, bouncing off the walls and into the kitchen where you work most mornings. Somehow, it seems worth it.

❀

"It's Y/n!" Prince Donghyuck's jovial voice makes your heart stir in reckless adoration. Part of you thinks he shouldn't know your name at all, but another part of you remembers that the prince has always had the tendency to make friends with anyone, despite their title.

It's more peculiar that Prince Donghyuck's voice is coming from above you, and that's because he's climbed one of the cherry trees in the royal orchard. The sticky-sweet juice of the Eastern Kingdom's bright red cherries drip down the prince's chin. He wipes it off with his sleeved elbow, laughing at your blatant distaste for the way he treats his clothes. "Is it cherry picking day already?"

Something tells you the prince knew this already. He always has had a knack for bothering servants at work. "It is," you say. "So if you want any cherry-related treats this weekend, you'd better stop eating the ingredients."

The prince ignores your empty threat and jumps to the grassy floor, knees almost immediately staining a wicked shade of green as he tumbles. He giggles and tosses his cherry pit behind his shoulder. "I'll keep you company."

Everything about the prince is so absolutely breathtaking to you — especially up close — that you have no courage to refuse any of his suggestions. After all, he's offering to spend time with you, and perhaps that's what makes your chest feel so warm despite the cool breeze.

The sun cuts through the prince's hair, almost as if he needs golden highlights in his copper-toned hair. When he turns back, tosses a cherry to you, and sends a playful smile your way, you think he's an embodiment of the spring itself. He's as warm as the sun and as playful as the breeze. You think he's perfect.

"When the village has their cherry blossom festival, are you going to go?"

You twist the rope handle of the bucket in your hand. "Most likely. It's one of the most exciting times for those without noble decent."

The prince grabs another few cherries off of a low-hanging branch and pops them in his mouth. "I was hoping you'd say that. You see, I want to sneak in."

And it occurs to your enamored heart that perhaps the prince is using your low position to get away from his responsibilities. But he's using you, so it feels justified.

"Okay," you whisper, unable to keep the heat away from your neck when the prince is smiling at you like you've just given him the best gift.

❀

The prince can sing, and you aren't sure how you didn't know before. He has an excellent voice too; it reverberates off of the castle walls and floats towards the starry sky as if the universe itself is leaning in closer just to hear a snippet. He's singing a shanty — one of old about a sailor's love. It's ironic to you, because it's a song that you feel empathetic too. It's a song you think you should sing about him.

You're only in the garden at midnight because the palace cat has yet to come in, and her kittens need their mother to nurse. Eight loud and howling kittens don't help any of the maidservants get to sleep. Of course the matron made you go find the mother.

You had just been monologuing to yourself about how unfairly you — as one of the younger maids — get treated by the matron, as if it's your fault you are more youthful than she. You were distracted and not really expecting to hear the sound of a boy's voice, gentle and smooth, carry through the rose bushes.

"I'll swim and sail on savage seas With ne'er a fear of drowning And gladly ride the waves of life If you will marry me."

Prince Donghyuck is sitting atop the garden wall, knees stained with mud and boots discarded who-knows-where. The mellow rise and fall of your voice makes you forget why you've come here in the first place. Like a siren's spell, Prince Donghyuck's song puts you in a trance. His voice is absolutely mesmerizing.

"No scorching sun nor freezing cold Can stop me on my journey If you will promise me your heart And love me for eternity."

"Have you seen Spots?" You hate to interrupt him, but you've forgotten your shawl and the night breeze is a lot harsher than it's daytime counterpart.

The prince doesn't seem bothered at all that you've interrupted him. His smile is sleepy, but it stirs your heart up just the same. "Y/n!"

Suddenly you feel self-conscious about the fact that you haven't even washed up from the day yet. "Your Highness," you curtsy anyway, thankful that the prince is obviously not one to dwell on outward appearances. "Spots... Have you seen her?"

"She's over by the koi pond," the prince confides. "'Been staring at those fish for an hour now."

You pander to the section of the garden he's talking about and pick up the mother cat, still full of milk and whatever leftovers she's managed to steal from the underside of the royal table. Prince Donghyuck has always been guilty of serving the animals food when he isn't supposed to.

The prince in question has decided to spread out on his back, eyes up towards the dark sky. He still sings, though it's more of a silent ballad to himself now.

You can't even make out the words he's singing anymore, but it carries the same beautiful connotations. "Your voice is beautiful."

He turns his head in surprise, lips twist in what looks like confusion. Even his golden-colored cheeks appear to be turning rosy under the moonlight. "Oh. Thank you."

He seems genuinely caught off guard, and you think of his colored cheeks as you place Spots back with her kittens and accept the loud praise of your fellow maidservants.

It occurs to you later, in your bed, that it was your words that made the prince blush. The very thought has your stomach turning in meticulous want for the royal. How you'd love to compliment him every day, if only to see the flustered look on his face.

❀

"I like to think we're friends, Y/n." Prince Donghyuck is wearing a silver dangly earring that curves from the shell of his ear to his ear lobe. The stark change of silver against his darkened skin has you distracted.

So, when he says these words to you, it's almost hard to comprehend them. "F-Friends?"

"Aren't we?" The prince pouts, and if it's only to tease you, it's done it's job. Your eyes drift to his ruddy-colored lips as he continues to speak. "I mean, we certainly talk a lot, and you don't chide me about how dirty my clothes are. Plus you're sneaking me out of the castle right now, which has to be like treason or something."

"It's not treason," you assure him. "It's more like if we get caught I'll be given kitchen duty for a few weeks and not be allowed to talk to you."

Prince Donghyuck pales. "Let's not get caught then. I like talking to you."

The way he says heart-fluttering things so casually makes your head spin. Then he does the absolute unthinkable: Prince Donghyuck holds your hand.

His fingers slot between yours so perfectly that you'd almost like to file a complaint to the Creator Himself for doing something so torturous to you. First you fall for the prince, of all people, and now your hand fits inside his like you two are meant to be. And maybe it's just the crush talking, but you feel like it is certainly more.

You like the way his palms are warm and slightly sweaty. You risk a look at your intertwined fingers and you can see the dirt smudges on his wrist. You can feel the callouses on his palm. You can feel the scab from where he got pinched by a hermit crab just last week on his thumb—

"Y/n, are you listening to a word I'm saying?" Prince Donghyuck squeezes your hand, and suddenly the spell is over.

You glance up at his knowing smile and feel your ears turn warm. "Sorry... what?"

"I asked if we should get some cherry tarts to eat while we watch the fireworks."

"We're staying for the fireworks?" You manage to look serene, though your mind is reeling again because fireworks are romantic. At least, in the village where you grew up, it was the time when lovers would find a place of solitude and share a kiss under the exploding lights. Just the thought of kissing the prince makes your chest feel heavy and light all at once.

Prince Donghyuck smiles. His cheeks lift and his eyes are almost nonexistent as they firm into crescent shapes. There's a sparkle in them that seems to you brighter than any firework could ever be. If given the choice, you'd look into the prince's eyes far longer than you'd watch the fireworks.

"I've never seen fireworks so close. I'm really excited for them."

And you're excited for him. Any new experience Prince Donghyuck wanted was an experience you'd like to give to him. "Okay. Let's see the fireworks, then."

❀

"The matron is pregnant," you deadpan your greeting to the prince.

"Spring babies," he answers with a knowledgeable nod of his head, as if it explains everything.

"More work for me," you correct with a grunt, flopping to the grassy floor. You lean against the large oak and wince at the way the bark scratches your back through your thin clothes. "Seriously, I don't know why that woman insists on working me ten times harder than all the other maids. With all her ridiculous demands, I wouldn't be surprised if she asked me to breastfeed the baby."

Prince Donghyuck snorts and closes his book — The Eastern Dynasty and Other Important Families — before looking at you. "If she works you so hard, how have you got time to complain to me?"

You sputter. There was no way you were going to tell the prince that you spend your very short breaks with him instead of getting the rest your breaks are for originally. "Just let me be dramatic, will you?"

The prince laughs and switches his position. Shuffling to lie across the grass, he rests his head on your lap and looks up towards the crown of leaves above you. His book (that is most surely for his lessons) lays disregarded and dog-eared for another day.

The action itself makes you freeze. The prince has always been openly affectionate with his friends; you can recall a time when Prince Mark visited from the Northern Kingdom and was subjected to Prince Donghyuck's clingy arms and annoying persistence.

Rather than choose to freak out over it, you decide to try and enjoy the moment. Tentatively, you reach down and let your fingers card through his brown curls, brushing the strands away from his forehead.

He hums in contentment and closes his eyes. "I hope your matron doesn't find you for a long time, because I might fall asleep."

His words ring true just moments later, when his head lulls to the side until his cheek is pressed against your stomach. Quiet snores escape his heart-shaped lips, and it makes you want to laugh — if only he didn't look so peaceful. You secretly hope the two of you will stay hidden forever, and no one — matron or otherwise — would find you.

The prince trusts you, that much is certain. That fact alone makes your heart beat wildly against your chest and your cheeks warm with fondness.

❀

"As bright as the very cherries in our orchard," you describe the new article of clothing to Prince Donghyuck.

He accepts the silk shirt and traces the ruffles that appear throughout the red fabric. "It's really pretty. What's it for?"

"The Southern Prince's wedding," you say. "I've been working with the tailors for weeks to make it perfect, I'm thinking some black pants — the one you wore to your cousin's birthday gala — will do nicely with them."

"Oh, yeah, Prince Yukhei," he quips. "I'm letting him borrow one of our seaside cottages for their honeymoon."

You grin. The thought of spending a week or more with the one you love the most on a beach you love the most would surely be a dream come true. "They'll love it here, surely."

"I certainly think so," Prince Donghyuck laughs as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

"Your Highness, what are you doing?" You squeak and hide your face behind your hands.

"I'm changing," he says matter-of-factly.

You hesitantly peak through your fingers and see that he's already got his arms through the sleeves of the silk shirt. You were right when you discussed the color with the tailors; red does look best against the prince's dark skin. The color pops even more.

You do your best to ignore his lean and tanned stomach, turning around and heading for the door. "Just take it to the tailors if anything is too big or small, okay?"

"Okay!" Prince Donghyuck says happily, ignorant to your flustered state.

❀

The shirt is ruined in less than a week. The matron runs around the laundry room in a frantic state; most of her anger directed at you. "How could you let him get away with that?"

"I'm not his guard," you reply, "and when has anyone ever been able to tame His Highness?"

The matron growls at your words and points her finger at your chin. "You had better get him another shirt before the wedding or you're fired. Understood?"

You sigh. "Understood."

Prince Donghyuck is laying under the cherry blossoms when you approach. The shirt you had worked so hard to get for him is wrinkled and frayed. There are grass stains on his elbows.

He looks like a disaster. A tornado rushing up the hill during harvest season, complete with wind howling and petals scattering everywhere. He is a disaster, though naturally and beautifully so. His spirit stirs up anyone who gets too close, knocking the wind straight out of their chest.

He's striking.

"I can't leave you alone for a day."

The prince holds up one finger. "Actually, I didn't stain the shirt until yesterday, so you can leave me alone for at least five days."

"I'll make a note of that."

Prince Donghyuck turns and gives you a bright smile, eyes nearly closing from the lift in his cheeks. "But I personally don't want to have to wait five days to see you."

You're sputtering and blushing; unable to answer while the prince runs off, laughing.

❀

Sometimes the matron is too honest. Sometimes she is too mean. Sometimes her words cut through your thick skin and you find yourself struggling to work under her gaze.

Sometimes you want to disappear.

Tonight it's worse, and maybe it's the matron's pregnancy hormones or maybe it's the fact that you never seem to do anything right, but there are tears. They're hot and prickly right behind your eyes as you run from the servant's quarters. Your lip trembles as you stumble through the castle, hoping to find the person you're looking for.

You don't know why you think of the prince first. Maybe it's because you're hurt and upset and homesick, but home is too far away for you and right now Prince Donghyuck seems to be the closest thing to comfort that you have in this castle. Maybe it's just the fact that you like him.

Your vision is hazy, clogged by tears by the time you reach the prince's chamber door. The night guard stops you from entering. His grip on your arm hurts and makes you only want to escape further from this place.

"Please," you choke out, "Just let me see him, I–"

"Y/n?"

The door opens, and the prince steps out, looking sleepy. He blinks a few times to adjust to the dim corridor lights. That's when he notices your crying. "What's wrong?"

You feel your face crumble. Your chest feels heavy and your heart hurts. Everything inside of you is screaming for some kind of comfort. You lunge forward and wrap your arms around Prince Donghyuck's neck. "I–"

"Shh," his voice is soft, and the warmth in it only makes you want to cry more. "Let's go lay down, okay?"

He dismisses his guards and ushers you into his room.

You focus on Prince Donghyuck's warm hand. It's pressing against the small of your back, centering you and reminding you that he's here. Prince Donghyuck is here, with you, and everything is going to be okay.

At least that's what it feels like when he pulls back the covers gestures for you to lay down on the peach-colored sheets. It's reaffirmed when he slides under the covers and wraps his arms around you. His warm breath tickles your neck when he speaks. "It's okay."

The prince is the sun, and you feel as if you skin is snow; melting, melting under his touch. You feel as if every gentle word he whispers against your skin peels back a layer of pain and replaces it with life. It feels good and wonderful and soft and safe, and you think briefly about how much you don't want this moment to end.

Just the thought of this time with the prince being temporary is enough to send you into a fit of sobs again. You try to remain quiet, because you don't want Prince Donghyuck to worry. However some selfish part of you wants him to worry a lot, and just for you.

"What happened?" His voice is coaxing in the same way that the springtime coaxes flowers to blossom.

"Th-" you struggle to stop crying, "The matron. It's just a lot. She scares me and intimidates me and makes fun of me and she's loud and abrasive and terrifying and—"

"Okay, woah woah woah," Prince Donghyuck runs his hands down your arms. "You've never talked about her like this before."

You sniff. "How could I go complaining to anyone about a woman who's been here far longer than I have? Who would care?"

"I would." Prince Donghyuck says it with a firmness in his voice. It's steadying, and it makes you think that maybe there's one person out there willing to listen to you. And if that person is the prince, than maybe you'll be okay. "I care about everything you have to say, and I'm so sorry I didn't see the signs sooner. I'm sorry it got this bad."

He's being so heroic. You think you're overreacting, but now that it's out there, heard by the prince himself, you can't take it back.

You sigh. Years and years of silence and now you feel as if you've said too much. Maybe the anxiety is just fermented into your chest, and refuses to let go. Maybe it's more than just the matron. Maybe it's a lot of things all piled up into one until you're finally done. Until you finally decide to give up.

"Stop thinking so hard," he says.

"I can't help it."

Prince Donghyuck hums playfully. The vibrations tickle the back of your neck. "Well I'll tell you about our foreign affairs and it can distract you for a bit. How about that?"

"Fine. Tell me about foreign affairs."

You think it's going to be boring, but he tells you about a fleet of pirates that have been fighting over the eastern sea lately. He tells you about a lost treasure — the siren's treasure — that the pirates are fighting over. Apparently no one knows where the key is, or the map. It sounds like an adventure novel instead of a true story. "When I turn eighteen," he says, "I'm going to go find them. Jaemin wants to come with me."

"Isn't he the son of a duke?"

"Yeah. The prince manages to sound nonchalant, "We really aren't supposed to talk about pirates. It's kind of taboo in the kingdom."

"Why?"

"Because it excites people and makes them want a life at sea." Prince Donghyuck says it like he's thought about it; like it's more personal than he wants to admit.

"If you and Jaemin become pirates, will you let me be on the crew?" you whisper hesitantly. You wonder if you're crossing a line here: discussing pirates with the royal prince.

But his eyes light up in a way you've never seen before, and he squeezes you just a little bit tighter. "You can be the first mate."

You fall asleep, forgetting the matron and her harsh words. Instead, your mind is somewhere else entirely. Somewhere where the wind meets the waves and there's no one to tell you what to do.

❀

Prince Donghyuck comes back from the wedding with a light heart. He finds you in the laundry room, folding sheets. "Y/n!"

Before you can process what's happening, the prince is holding your elbows and steering you out of the laundry room. You can hear the matron's voice get louder as she screeches for you to return to your station, but Prince Donghyuck doesn't give you a chance to reply. "Sorry, Matron! I need Y/n for the day!"

You can't help but feel elated at the prince's return. It was hard not seeing him for a full week, and even worse when the matron decided to make you work overtime since she didn't want to. You wanted to complain to her that she didn't have to go and get pregnant, and that she could take leave, but you'd prefer not to be put on spit-up duty when the baby does come.

Prince Donghyuck's palms are warm against your skin. His breath smells like mint when he leans close to you and whispers excitedly about all that happened during the wedding. "—it was just so cute to see two people so in love. Not during the wedding of course — there was a lot of political divide in the chapel, you see — but the reception was outstanding. And once the bride's mother was on her way back to her land, you could just see the bride light up at the prince. Truly, I wish I could've taken you and introduced you to her. I think the two of you would've been friends."

You end up in the prince's bedroom, and he sits you on his bed while he makes his way to his wardrobe. He dramatically looks through his casual clothes before grabbing an outfit and disappearing behind the dressing screen. "Grab some comfy clothes, Y/n! We're gonna cuddle and talk about our week spent apart!"

He says it so excitedly that while you're pulling a spare nightshirt over your head, you feel the warmth of something deeper settle within your chest. You can't remember anyone ever sounding so thrilled to be able to simply talk with you. It feels like for once someone cares about you personally, not because you're working for them or doing something they asked, but because they genuinely enjoy your company.

It makes you fall for the prince even more.

Once you're both decent, the curly-haired boy grabs your hand and pulls you back towards the bed.

You land on your back and Prince Donghyuck is quick to shuffle right next to you until your shoulders are almost uncomfortably pressed together. The top canopy of his bed is covered in stars, stitched from a golden thread. You stare at them for awhile until Prince Donghyuck begins to speak.

"My mother had the canopy made for me when I was a child. She always said the moles on my face looked like Ursa Minor. It made her begin to study astrology, in the hopes of revealing my future as king."

There's a sort of yearning in his voice that reminds you of the separation between him and his parents. Nothing major; strictly political in the sense that he and his parents have very different jobs in the palace, and they barely ever cross paths anymore.

It's something that's widely known to many employees of the palace, but many subjects of the Eastern Village have no idea that the prince is already fulfilling his kingly duties. The fact that the three have to put their family bonds aside to take care of the kingdom breaks your heart often, so you can only imagine how it must hurt Prince Donghyuck.

He sniffles once. Before he can make up some excuse about the sound, you're turning on your side and pulling the prince as close to you as you can.

He shakes and lets a sob escape his lips, startling you. It occurs to you that the prince doesn't really have any close friends. Prince Mark lives an entire ocean away, and Jaemin's not exactly allowed to be around the prince for more than a few hours every week. Perhaps you're Prince Donghyuck's only close friend. Perhaps he isn't even Prince Donghyuck to you anymore—maybe he's just Donghyuck.

"Donghyuck, it's okay," you say. "It's okay."

He curls against you and nuzzles his face into your neck. Your skin grows wet with his tears, but you're more worried about why he's crying, and if he'll be okay. "I'm sorry," he croaks, "I'm just tired and sad and it's hard to deal with when I'm alone for a long amount of time like this trip and I just—"

"Shh." You wipe his tears with the pad of your thumb. "I understand. Just let it out, okay?"

He does. He cries for nearly an hour, and when the clock strikes four in the evening, he's gone limp with sleep against your chest.

Part of you is relieved that Donghyuck seems to depend on you just as much as you depend on him. You think this admiration for the prince has tumbled into a beautiful friendship that you wouldn't trade for the world. You absolutely wouldn't dare leave the boy, just as you couldn't picture him leaving you.

❀

The matron dies during childbirth. It's a huge surprise to the entire palace, but the birth complications weren't anything the palace physicians were used to.

You and the other laundry maidens work together to take care of the child. The little girl is to be sent to a nearby nunnery in the hopes of living a safe and pure life there. No one in the castle has time to pause everything to care for a child, and with the threat of pirates on the shore, it's just safer that children stay away from the capital.

Still, you take a liking to the child. The matron had a name planned beforehand, and little Anne is a perfect little baby. Part of you feels guilty, as if your taunts against the matron caused her untimely death. You are afraid to mention your concerns to Donghyuck, afraid that he'll think you're trying to get more attention, but in the back of your mind you know he would never think that. In fact, you think Donghyuck might know how you're feeling, and that's why he's let you take over caring for the child the first few weeks.

It takes a bit of the guilt off of your shoulders.

The funeral is prepared in the matron's birth village. As sad as the event is, you're glad that Donghyuck gets to see his parents for a moment. You wish they were under happier circumstances.

You meet the nuns that will be caring for Anne, and only a few tears fall as you give the child away. You promise to visit soon. Surprisingly, you find yourself wanting to take the child yourself and care for her. Maybe you're just lonely. Maybe you're delusional, because there's no way you could care for a child on your own.

Donghyuck finds you in the palace garden, dressed in black. "I know what you're thinking. It wasn't your fault."

"That's not what I'm think—"

"—and you don't need to raise the matron's baby to apologize for what happened."

You blink at him before turning towards the rose bushes. "Oh."

"We should go away for a bit, you and me." Donghyuck grabs your hand as he says this. "The cottage by the sea, remember? I'll get it prepared, and I'll bring my work so nothing gets forgotten. But it could be just us for awhile. I mean, if you wanted to."

Your chest fills with a new kind of warmth. You think of a world where it's just you and Donghyuck for a few days. It would be paradise.

"I want to. I'd love to."

❀

You never get to.

Donghyuck was preparing the cottage when the pirates evaded the shore. Too far away from the palace's safe house, Donghyuck has no choice but to hide in the cottage while the pirates raid the kingdom.

You were in the palace, waiting for them to leave when the news came.

The feared pirate, Mortem, took Prince Donghyuck, and there was little chance he'd be seen again.

Alive, at least.

#seasons au #prince!donghyuck #nct au #nct aus #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct angst #haechan fluff #haechan au #haechan angst #haechan scenario #destwrites

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detectivesplotslies · 5 years ago

Note

SPEAKING OF MUSICALS what’re some songs that fit some v3 ships or moments in the game? Atleast In your opinion

Oh boy. Some of these are gonna be dumb and biased as a warning. I don’t know how many will be ships but I definitely have some moments from the game/character thought ones. This is gonna be a long post cause I like throwing in lyrics SORRY! Anon I hope you don’t regret this lmaoThis is getting…. very long so I think I’m gonna put them under the cut! :’DThere’s some Wicked, Chicago, Avenue Q, Scarlet Pimpernel, Hamilton, Into the Woods, RENT, The Greatest Showman, Little Shop of Horrors, The Producers, Come From Away and Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along BlogThere’s some Oumota, Saimatsu, Saiibo, and loose Saiouma in here, but also a few more general ones!

As most of you know, I have a Oumota Wicked AU, but there’s one song I’d like to point out that’s not for the ship that I quite like for the character in question, and that’s Wonderful, for Tsumugi. This one I found to be a great one for comparing what she does there in that au with some actual stuff in the game.Have some lyrics! I guess I just - wanted to give the citizens of Oz everything.

So you lied to them.

Elphaba, where I’m from, we believe all sorts ofthings that aren’t true. We call it“history.”A man’s called a traitor or liberatorA rich man’s a thief or philanthropistIs one a crusader or ruthless invader?It’s all in which labelIs able to persistThere are precious few at easeWith moral ambiguitiesSo we act as though they don’t exist

—Another song, this one I discussed in a discord server with some awesome friends so not taking full credit for it, is We Both Reached For the Gun from Chicago for Kokichi and Gonta. The interview plays like the setup trial and while not exact is DEFINITELY an awesome play on the vibe and how it was done. Puppetry and motives running the entire show~! Also has some of the best choreography! And when the reporter starts agreeing that there is Shuichi proving it all.

Then describe it.He came toward me.With the pistol?From my bureau.Did you fight him?Like a tiger.He had strength and she had none.And yet we both reached for the gunOh yes, oh yes, oh yes we bothOh yes we bothOh yes, we both reached forThe gun, the gun, the gun, the gunOh yes, we both reached for the gunFor the gun.

—

The next one might be a weird one, and the dramatic delivery might not suit her as much, but I associate Falcon in the Dive from The Scarlet Pimpernel with Maki in chapter 5. It’s about a manhunt, hunting down an enemy, and how your own morals are already done and it’s up to you. There’s a bit of conflict in it about being bitter about it too and it fits some characterization I wish they had shown there there. It plays in with the memories they barely have as well. Have some lyrics!

There was a dream - a dying ember.There was a dream - I don’t remember …but I will resurrect that dream,though rivers stream and hills grow steeper.For here in hell, where life gets cheaper -oh, here in hell, the blood runs deeper.And when the final duel is near,I’ll lift my spear and fly.Piercing into the sky, and higher!And the strong will thrive!Yes, the weak will cower,while the fittest will survive!If we wait for the darkest hour‘til we spring alive,then with claws of fire,we devour like a falcon in the dive. —In a lighter tone, There is Life Outside Your Apartment from Avenue Q is a Kaito drags sidekicks to training song, I dare you to prove me otherwise. When I say “everyone”, that includes you!There is life outside your apartmentI know it’s hard to conceive,but there’s life outside your apartment,and you’re only gonna see it if you leave.There is cool shit to do,but it can’t come to you.And who knows, dude,you might even score!There is life outside your apartment,but you’ve got to open the door!No, thanks, I’m staying in.Don’t tell me I gotta force you.Sorry!All right everyone! He’s resisting! —OKAY so if you follow me by now you know I really enjoy Kokichi. When I was looking for songs, @dykeenvy reminded me of this one and it fits Chapter 5 Kokichi so well, so shoutout to them! Last Midnight from Into the Woods for Kokichi. It’s the point where everyone’s arguments and blame (from the song Your Fault! which is ALSO a good V3 song, it’s like… every trial) turns to the witch and she’s done with them and it’s great, specifically this lyrical sequence! You’re so nice You’re not good You’re not bad You’re just nice I’m not good I’m not nice I’m just right I’m the witch You’re the world I’m a hitch I’m what no one believes I’m the witch You’re all liars and thieves Like his father Like his son will be, too Oh, why bother? You’ll just do what you do

—

OKAY now onto some more dialogue heavy stuff! Non-Stop from Hamilton for Kokichi & Shuichi! Let me explain. Kokichi I find is very like Hamilton, making himself the center of it all, writing, not stopping, going at it all, making enemies but overall doing more and more ambitious. Meanwhile Shuichi is a lot more like Burr, says less, but knows what he’s doing, and bewildered by Hamilton’s methods. Keeps his cards close to his chest until he needs them. Kokichi writing like he’s running out of time is so very very in character. It just fits him SO WELL. It could even represent Kokichi’s attempt to partner with him in chapter 4 and being turned down. Some lyrics! Why do you always say what you believe?Why do you always say what you believe?Ev'ry proclamation guarantees free ammunition for your enemiesWhy do you write like it’sGoing out of style?Write day and night like it’sGoing out of style?Ev'ry day you fight like it’sGoing out of style—On a more somber note, I think The Story of Tonight from Hamilton has great post game VR AU feels for the survivors and maybe Rantaro too in the midst of causing Team Danganronpa some disastrous reactions to their forced ending. I love aus where they are getting legal repercussions and the cast is being held, the dead maybe even still under, until it’s worked out and I think this fits here

I may not live to see our glory! (I may not live to see our glory!)But I will gladly join the fight! (But I will gladly join the fight!)And when our children tell our story… (And when our children tell our story…)They’ll tell the story of tonightLet’s have another round tonight (Let’s have another round tonight)Let’s have another round tonightRaise a glass to freedomSomething they can never take awayNo matter what they tell youRaise a glass to the four of us Tomorrow there’ll be more of usTelling the story of tonightThey’ll tell the story of tonight —

Okay, another shoutout to @dykeenvy and the Yeehonk! server for this one since we chatted about it in there BUT - Take Me or Leave Me from Rent is an Oumota song. The energy, the stances, the stubborness. It is ALL THERE. A tiger in a cageCan never see the sunThis diva needs her stage, babyLets have funYou are the one I chooseFolks will kill to fill your shoesYou love the lime light to now babySo be mine but don’t waste my timeCryin’, “Oh, honey bear are you still my, my, my baby?”Take me for what I amWho I was meant to beAnd if you give a damnTake me baby or leave me —

I’d be remiss to not do another Tsumugi song, given who I am. So I’m bringing up Opening Night from The Producers for Tsumugi. For her ending disaster and the audience complaints during the PTA segment! I just… really like to think it was a all blamed on her sometimes hahah. Sorry mugi.He’s done it againHe’s done it againMax Bialystock has done it againWe can’t believe itYou can’t conceive itHow’d he achieve it?It’s the worst show in town!We sat there sighingGroaning and cryingThere’s no denyingIt’s the worst show in townOh, we wanted to stand up and hissWe’ve seen shit, but never like this

—

Okay for this one just… hear me out. The Other Side from The Greatest Showman for Oumota. A circus ringleader and a respectable patron of the arts walk into a bar, argue about their reputations a bit, make a deal and talk about living a little. Clowns are even mentioned. I mean come on! Don’t you know that I’m okay with this uptown part I get to play‘Cause I got what I need and I don’t want to take the rideI don’t need to see the other sideSo go and do like you doI’m good to do like meAin’t in a cage, so I don’t need to take the keyOh, damn! Can’t you see I’m doing fineI don’t need to see the other side

Now is this really how you like to spend your days?Whiskey and misery, and parties and plays

If I were mixed up with you, I’d be the talk of the townDisgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns

But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a littleJust let me give you the freedom to dream And it’ll wake you up and cure your achingTake your walls and start ‘em breakingNow that’s a deal that seems worth takingBut I guess I’ll leave that up to you —

Kokichi in ships is always a troublesome thing, as he’s got a lot of issues with himself too, so I think Leave from Once is very Kokichi. Oof. Sorry this one is mostly angst fodder. I can’t wait forever is all that you saidBefore you stood upAnd you won’t disappoint meI can do that myselfBut I’m glad that you’ve comeNow if you don’t mindLeave, leave,And free yourself at the same timeLeave, leave,I don’t understand, you’ve already goneAnd I hope you feel betterNow that it’s outWhat took you so longAnd the truth has a habitOf falling out of your mouthBut now that it’s comeIf you don’t mindLeave, leave,And please yourself at the same time

—

Now for something completely different! Meek Shall Inherit from Little Shop of Horrors for Shuichi! Moral dilemmas, biases and making terrible decisions for the sake of people liking him after his ‘success’ starts building. Oof. Sorry Shuichi, I know Seymour’s not the most moral character but the comparison is there a bit. My future’s startingI’ve got to let itStick with that plantAnd gee my bank account will thriveWhat am I saying?No way, forget itIt’s much too dangerous to keep that plant aliveI take these offersThat means more killingWho knew success would come with messy nasty strings?I sign these contractsThat means I’m willingTo keep on doing bloody, awful, evil things

—

Now for a different ship! My Freeze Ray from Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog for Saimtasu. I think it outlines Shuichi’s anxiety when trying to get close to Kaede pretty well, and also how little he knows about her at the start, but is still cute! With my freeze ray I will stop the worldWith my freeze ray I willFind the time to find the words to

Tell you howHow you makeMake me feelWhat’s the phrase?Like a foolKinda sickSpecial needsAnyways —

One more. This ship’s just one of my comfort ones and of course I’m giving it angst. Stop the World from Come From Away for Saiibo. Specifically at the end of trial 6, where they know everything;s coming down, shuichi and the survivors made their choice, and Kiibo’s going to self destruct, and everything;s going to end, but they all get one more goodbye. Agh Kiibo didn’t need to go then and it makes me sad. Stop the worldSeize the momentBut the minute he goes you’re alone, and it’s through pinch yourselfTell yourself:“You’re just dreaming, that means he’ll forget about you”

But here we areWhere the continents once crashed togetherBefore they went their separate ways forever, so stop the world

—Sorry for rambling so very LONG anon. Hope you enjoy these, maybe you’ll find a new song today :’D

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #lyrics #musicals #music #asks #rambles #oumota #saiibo #saimatsu #ndrv3 spoilers #so many spoilers #not gonna tag everyone I mentioned in this but #there's a ton of tsumugi kokichi and shuichi #because I am like that #ENJOY ANON #my content

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the-girl-from-number-4-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Honesty (Part II)

Roger Taylor x Reader

In which both are very much confused

Word Count: 4,372

(i finally finished part two! thank you to all those who read the last part; i hope this one doesn’t disappoint!)

part one

“Because it’s you.” In the air hangs a static pause as Roger stares blankly at you for a few moments, but the length of time doesn’t register with you because you’re too preoccupied by the litany of thoughts and fears rushing through your overactive brain. His incredible lack of expression scares you; the man you see isn't the one you know with the infectious grin and emotive manner. You’re don’t think you’re prepared to deal with whatever may be going on in his mind behind those apathetic eyes. You watch his face carefully for any sign, any reaction. You hate fighting with him - especially when you know you’re at fault, as you certainly are now - and each time, you worry that it may be the last; that this was the final straw. Maybe, this time, it is. But you know, when he doesn't respond for several moments, that this has turned into more than a fight. You’ve fought before; Roger would typically launch back with a sometimes witty, sometimes idiotic quip - he was never caught off-guard. This must have really shaken him. His brows furrow slightly, in both anger and confusion. “Are you joking, Y/N? ‘Cause I fucking swear that this is not funny.” You shake your head, and your voice is weak. “I’m not joking.” Tentatively, you look up at him. His eyes are steel; narrowed, guarded, they hold yours steadily, and though your resolve crumbles like the walls of Jericho, you can’t look away. “Roger?” You ask, because you fear that the silence hurts more than his inevitable rejection. “Please say something.” He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. “I - well, okay,” he says it like a question, and you can tell that the words are just placeholders while he finds the right phrase to express his true reaction. “I’m sorry,” you look away, at last, finding the counter top suddenly very interesting. What are you apologizing for? Loving him? Would that really be your fault? He’s uncomfortable, now, you think, because he doesn’t feel the same way. He’s just trying to find a way to tell you. Didn’t he never used to watch his words around you? Why is it so hard now? He nods numbly, taking a step back and jutting his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got - I’m going to - I’m gonna go, now.” You close your eyes and turn away from him. He leaves without another word.

Roger Taylor never advertises himself as an emotional man. On stage, he's the energetic drummer who never tires. In the studio, he whines, but he really does want to make better music, and does his best to give multiple perspectives of each track; to him, that's logical. And in bed, he's a fervent lover; all parties walk away satisfied. But he's never emotional. Once, Freddie asked him how he felt about a particular piano riff. Does it feel like it fits? Roger only told him how their typical audience might react to such a dramatic shift in musical tone, and Freddie dismissed him, saying his opinion (or lack thereof) wasn't worth shit. He supposes he does feel something about the music they produce - he’s got his favorites and his regrets, of course - but not nearly to the level of the others. He doesn't really mind. Fred and Bri are emotional enough for the four of them; Deacy usually handles the reasoning and Roger handles the blind contradiction, just to keep them all in check, get them really thinking about it. He feels that they all provide just the right balance. And whenever he bids a hasty goodbye to whoever shared his bed the previous night, there's a little part of him that fears an attempt at conversation. For some women, 'Last night was fun' simply wasn't enough. And that just wasn't what he was looking for; if he wanted pillow talk, he'd get himself an actual girlfriend. Oh, wait, I did that, didn't I? he asks himself silently as he storms down the brightly lit streets that night. Dom. She's a proper girlfriend, right? But even with her, he doesn't share what anyone could call an emotional connection. The truth is, he never bothers getting to know a girl before taking her to bed; he never saw the use in doing so, since he was always moving around with the band, touring and doing gigs at odd places here and there. No woman wants a man who's only there maybe once a month, does she? Even Roger knows that it's a sad excuse. He lives life easy, taking advantage of his looks to have a good time. He's not proud of it, but not ashamed, either. It's just the way it is. And he was fine with that - he was so perfectly fine with that. Until Y/N came around, that is. Of course, you'd always been there. He fondly remembered meeting you at a Smile gig; he felt an instant connection unlike any he'd ever had before, especially not with women. You were probably the first girl he could see as being more than just another example of her sex, aside from, perhaps, his mother. You became fast friends, and the rest was history - or so he thought. When this whole 'Ben' business came up, Roger didn't believe you for a second. Your eyes would shoot down, and your speech became slurred - it was a barely perceptible change, but he heard it, sure signs that you were lying. He really did assume you liked John. He really thought you'd be a perfect match for each other; you're both more on the introverted side with the same dry sense of humor, both so calm and composed. It still didn't sit well with him, the thought of you and John. He told himself that it was because John had a serious girlfriend, and that Roger had at least some moral compass to recognize the wrong in disrupting such a relationship. Even when he entertained the possibility that 'Ben' was real, however, the uncomfortable feeling lingered. He didn't want to think it was jealousy. He's mad at you now. You lied to him, you played him for a fool for an entire year. But more than the lie - he could handle the lie, really, because he always knew it to be so - he was angry at your feelings. That was the real surprise. You had a nice thing going. It was pretty cool to be actual friends with a girl, you know, without having to remember this or that about how she was in bed, or what she really looked like underneath her clothes, every time he saw her. Y/N was just one of the guys, until feelings got in the way. Roger stops at a hole-in-the-wall pub and eyes its sketchy sign, flickering dully, on its last legs. It looked to him like a place no respectable man would find himself at midnight, and he was right; upon entering, he could tell that nobody there was clean of drugs or (judging by the putrid smell) in easy access to a shower. He orders their strongest, cheapest stuff and downs it, leaning his arms against the bar. Perhaps the barkeep tries to make conversation; he doesn't listen. His gaze is straight ahead, but far off, and he feels a bit like Freddie when he had the sudden inspiration for a song, and can't be bothered until he's plucked it out on the piano. His first, almost instinctive thought is, How do I reject a girl without hurting her feelings? As he tries to come up with an answer, he wonders why he wants to reject her in the first place. Knowing you, you'd want a reason. He can't find one. He thinks about your smile when you see him for the first time every day. How it's even wider when he's been out of town for a tour, and how your eyes are so bright on his. Perhaps your affection shouldn't have caught him so off-guard. He thinks of your hair, which you wear so modestly. He likes to make it messy, because it's so soft between his fingers, and it pleases him to know that you like it, too. He likes that he could make you relax with such a simple touch. He thinks about the most bizarre things: the curve of your shoulders when you wear a particular blouse; the charming asymmetry of your grin when you're up to mischief; the particular way you cross your legs when you lean against the sofa. Perhaps he's thought of you too much. This was quite a revelation, wasn't it, your not-so-hidden feelings? He really should have a clear mind, unobstructed by thoughts and images of you. Like the wise man he is, he replaces thoughts of your silhouette against a bright streetlight on a late night with the buzz of alcohol, and that's the last he can recall of that night.

You had hoped that telling Roger about your long-running lie would get the guilt off of your shoulders, but just as you cast aside that albatross, you take on Atlas’ weight of the world when he doesn’t speak to you again for days. He was wrong, nearly a year ago, when he said that a true friend wouldn’t let something like this ruin a relationship. You ruined things with the two of you, didn't you? If only you had kept your mouth shut about everything. If only you hadn't told him about your silly crush like he would have cared - and if only you hadn't let that crush blossom into love. Had you now lost Roger forever? You don’t want to think of Roger as a hypocrite. The soft side of you wants to see good in everybody, so you blame yourself. Perhaps it was largely the lying that made him react so . . . adversely? You really couldn’t tell, because it’s how he didn’t react that makes the situation so confusing. He’s also never had to reject someone so close to him. The women he goes with are mostly fans, or they're just walking sex appeal - not unlike Roger himself, of course. It’s easy to make excuses to girls in bars or groupies at gigs. He doesn’t know their names, their character; he doesn’t care for them in any capacity. You hope that he cares for you as a friend, at least, and that’s what makes it difficult for him. These thoughts send you into a downward spiral with no end. You convince yourself, contrary to your prior wishful thinking, that you made up the intimacy of your friendship - all of your bonds and connections were just fabrications of a lonely, desperate mind. Roger Taylor wouldn’t want you, as a friend or as a lover. This spiral has no end; it tightens and tightens until you feel faint. Then, it tightens some more. You sit in front of your television, watching some program with a blank stare. For the life of you, you can’t remember what it is, though you’ve stared at it for a few hours now. You’re on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, because it feels right like this. You try not to think about when Roger sat on the sofa behind you. A bent paper clip between your fingers gives you a mechanical distraction from such mental spirals; idle fingers means your mind wanders, inevitably to the worst of places. It’s one in the afternoon, and you really shouldn’t be in your flat on such a perfectly nice day as this. The few clouds in the sky, you can tell from your window, are wispy and fleeting. Today would be an opportune time to run some errands and visit the guys. Ah, there’s the rub. The guys: specifically, Roger. You can’t face him. The thought of your ruined friendship hurts you enough; actually seeing the wreckage can only be worse. He lives right next door to you, and you’ve avoided him like the plague. Every time you go down to check the post, it’s a rush, early in the morning when you’re sure he isn’t awake. When you run down to the laundry, you check both ways to make sure he can't run into you. Each time, you feel so pathetic that, now, you haven't left your flat all day, and have no intention to do so. If you were in your right mind, you’d probably notice how quiet his flat was, as though he weren’t home at all, but you are far to preoccupied with not thinking about him. You are a mess. You wear your dressing gown, even though you woke up hours ago, and haven’t properly brushed your hair in a couple of days. You ate cereal out of a measuring cup because it was in the wash and you hadn’t put away the clean dishes yet. You didn't even bother going to bed last night; you just curled up on the couch into a dreamless but restless sleep. A knock sounds at your door. You don’t even entertain the possibility that it’s Roger, because there’s no way he would show up now. He’s the sort who puts things off and puts things off until he just doesn’t do them. You'd probably end up the same way to him. You don't immediately get up to answer until you hear a call. “Y/N! Open your door, darling, before I call John in to break it down.” Freddie. You push aside your blanket and tie your gown about your waist, running a hand through your hair. As you approach your door, you catch a glimpse of your disheveled frame in the mirror, with your baggy eyes and melancholy expression. You're a peach. The door opens. "Y/N!" Freddie rushes in to envelope you in one of his familiarly warm hugs. You're so used to this greeting that it doesn't strike you as odd, but you must wonder. "What's gotten you here, Fred?" He pulls away, hands on your shoulders, examining you. "I refuse to believe you're that dim. You haven't stopped by the studio in days, or even returned our calls; we're all right worried about you, of course." "All of you?" He blanches, knowing exactly who you meant. "I do wish you'd told me about your little crush." It didn't escape your notice how he avoided answering, but it's all you need to know the truth. Roger doesn't care. You turn away and beckon him inside, ignoring that last remark. "Apologies for the mess," you say, kicking your dirty jumper out of his path to the couch. "I wasn't expecting company." "Evidently," he sneers in distaste at your displayed wardrobe. He never did approve of your taste in clothes. He sits beside you on the couch. At first, you're a good distance away, as though this is just a friendly chat over tea, but without the tea. Or the friendly chat. Apparently, neither of you are sure what this is, because you both sit for a moment of frankly awkward silence, before Freddie sighs. "Oh, come here, you goose." He pulls you into another embrace. "I'm guessing you heard about Roger and me?" you ask, nuzzled into his shoulder. Your voice is muffled but he understands well enough. "Did I ever," he chuckles dryly. "We all saw it, you know. Something was never quite right with you two. If you didn't both have such glass faces, I'd have thought you were having a secret affair." You laugh humorlessly, as if to say, I wish. "And here I thought I hid it well." "Only from him. But for what it's worth, he only gets the message if a girl flashes him." He pets your hair, and you suspect another grimace comes from how tangled it is, but he doesn't mention it. "You shouldn't be too hard on yourself, you know. Love happens to the best of us." You look up at him. "But I've lost him, haven't I?" "Well, I wouldn't assume -" "Things were fine the way they were. I don't care that I loved him; he was better as a friend, however I could have him, than he is now that he's gone." You shake your head. "I was ridiculous to think that he would feel the same way. We're not fucking atoms; opposites don't attract." He silences you with a finger to your lips. "Y/N, listen to me. Nobody's wrong to express their feelings. Where you've gone wrong is to assume Roger's. Did he tell you that he didn't love you?" "Well, no." "Did he tell you that the friendship was over?" "No! Who just announces, 'Well, we're done here. Our friendship has expired!'?" Freddie slows his words down, as if addressing a petulant child. "You must understand that Roger gets all the girls because he's a pretty face and a loose tongue. He doesn't get them because he understands how they think. If he can't wake up the morning after and have a real conversation with the girl he's laid, what makes you think he'll know how to respond to a profession of love? He's just a man, after all. He needed time." You pretend to check the watch on your wrist, not minding that you aren't actually wearing one. "Well, he's had a few days. Isn't that time enough?" "God, you're just as hopeless as he is." Freddie withdraws his arms from around you to cross them in front of his chest. "We were set to record Monday, you know? But Roger comes in, two hours late, and he can't keep a beat to save his life, and all it takes is one question from Brian to get him to give us the whole sob story." Your breath catches. "How did he seem?" "Just as torn up as you are, dear. We could all see it from miles away, the two of you. If my intuition's worth anything, he loves you, too. He's just afraid to say it." You look away. "You're only saying that." He scoffs. "Because it's true! Look. I want you out of this flat - after you tidy up a bit - and out to find Roger, instead of wallowing in this depressing mess. Don't you waste this." You find it hard to believe him. Freddie's always there to pick you up; he's charismatic and charming, but that doesn't mean that he's entirely right. He has the bad habit of telling you what you want to hear, instead of the truth. Sometimes, he can make that the reality, but even he can't fix the impossible. "Trust me." You want to. You really do. But can you handle it if he's wrong?

You look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Freddie's helped you do your hair. You washed it and scrubbed your face, so that you don't look as rough as you had before. You must admit, though your appearance is hardly the most of your concerns, that it is a marked improvement. You aren't wearing makeup today, because makeup isn't an every day thing for you, and you don't want to give the impression that today is a special occasion. Just for insurance purposes, you must present yourself as a friend, making a supplication to continue a friendship; to assume or hope for anything more would just be uncouth. If Roger doesn't feel as Freddie suspects he may, you must take his rejection with grace; the excuse that you were prepared to remain friends is just perfect for such a scenario. Not that you didn't hope for more, that is. Just that you didn't expect it. Fred left about an hour ago; since then, you've tidied up your flat, put in a load of laundry, and any other domestic task you could think of. Since he left, you've tried to muster the courage to follow his order, but so far, you've come up with nothing, preferring to busy yourself with chores. Now, you can think of nothing more to do that wouldn't break a sweat. Of course, you could always sort through your records - you've been meaning to do that - but it would take several hours to do thoroughly, and you actually do plan to find Roger eventually. As you stare at your reflection, you convince yourself that, whatever Roger says once you find him, you won't betray any sadness in your eyes. You won't tear up or cry; the best you can do is resigned humility, because that would prove to him that you can handle rejection. Above all, when you see him, you want to walk away with the same level of friendship that you had before this fiasco. His friendship matters more to you than any romantic inclinations ever could. This thought gives you comfort. You can handle rejection because, even if he rejects your love, he wouldn't have to reject your friendship. You hope. He's a bigger man than that, isn't he? He wouldn't let a crush get in the way of such a strong friendship. Again, you hope. You take several deep breaths and head to your door. As your heart beats faster than it probably ever has before, you fiddle with your keys for a second, and you notice that your fingers are unsteady. Okay, Y/N, you just have to do this, you tell yourself. Rip off the band-aid. Much easier said than done. Closing your eyes, you open your door, and mechanically turn to lock it. You use slow, deliberate movements, partly because your hands shake so badly, and partly because you want to have as long as possible to compose your thoughts. Fate isn't on your side, it seems. "I guess I caught you as you were leaving." Spinning around to meet the familiar voice, your eyes fly open. Roger stands there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his denim jacket. It's the same one he wore that night. It looks like he hasn't been home in days; his eyes are even baggier than yours, and his clothes are old. You swallow. "I was going to find you, actually." The corner of his lip quirks up so slightly that it must be involuntary. "Yeah?" "I haven't seen you in days." He shrugs. "I've been at John's," he excuses. His eyes avoid yours. You lean against your door as he walks forward. Unsure of what to say, you can only ask, "How have you been?" He looks at you, then, in the eye, and he looks so tired. You hate to think that your confession had done that to him. "Well," he says lowly, "these past few days haven't exactly been an easy ride." "I'm so sorry." Roger releases a sharp exhale and shakes his head. "You need to stop apologizing like it’s your fault." By his voice, you can tell his temper is short. "I really don't get you, Y/N. You've kept this secret for a whole year, but I can't understand why. We tell each other everything, you know? Why not this?" You look down to compose your answer. You don't speak your mind as he does; he hardly has a filter, while yours is made of lead. "It isn't as easy as that," you say. "You don't know how it feels to love someone who doesn't love you back. It's not fun, Roger, it hurts. But I knew that if you told me, if I actually had to hear you say it, it would hurt even more." Your voice breaks. His eyes soften. "No, no, Y/N," his hands find your shoulders. He doesn't just rest them there, he holds them, and it feels so warm, so comforting. He's not just holding you; he's holding you together. You know that you won't cry in front of him. "Maybe I'm not the best with this type of thing." He tilts his head. "All right, maybe I'm one of the worst. But it hurts me to know that you didn't even let me decide for myself how I felt about you." Through your slightly cloudy eyes, you give him an exasperated look. "You can't say that you would have done anything different." You cross your arms, but a part of you stops you from moving too much, because you're afraid to jostle his hands off of your shoulders. "I know you, Roger, and I know the type of girls you go with. I'm not like them." "No, you're not," he says. "Look, when you first mentioned your feelings, way back at Freddie's Christmas party, I think I hoped, just for a second, that you'd say it was me. Just for a second. Then, when I thought it was John, I was jealous. Fucking jealous!" He shakes his head, as if in disbelief at himself. "I don't get jealous. Not unless it's over you." Your brain isn't working. "I don't understand." "Here, I'll spell it out. When you said that you felt for me, I freaked. Nobody'd ever done that before, so it caught me off guard. And I panicked; wouldn't you?" His hand rises to cup your cheek. "But it got me thinking. If you hadn't said anything, that hope and that jealousy would have just been pushed somewhere out of mind, because that's what I do with things I can't understand. So when you said that it was me. . ." He closes his eyes and leans forward. Not close enough to kiss - though more than part of you wishes it was - but close enough that you feel his breath against your skin, and it sends shivers down your spine. "When you said it was me, I - I put it all together. I'm an idiot, Y/N, and it took me a while, but I see it now." He opened his eyes and looked at you. "I think I love you.” You open your mouth to reply, but the words don't even leave your brain before your heart stops beating. You honestly think you may be dreaming when he closes the space between you and presses his lips to yours.

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