#Ellie was a delightful lady to draw!

[philtstone]

Aragorn/Arwen, 63

#63 -- tujhe dekha toh from dilwale dulhania le jeyenge ok so the soulmatism of it all had me going completely nuts (simrans waking dreams.....i need to lie down) & before i knew it i'd re-read their appendix had 3 literary analysis epiphanies and was neck deep in the wiki page on love death and meaning and the paradox of religion and nonreligion in tolkein i say all that like i didnt just write movie verse kidfic lol. ellie is a shortened version of "nethel" which means sister in sindarin. in a different time in my life i would have named every single one of canon girldad aragorns "many daughters" & also included 5 of them but alas, at this time i am Busy. so we'll pretend that the other 3 havent come along yet. arwen has magic powers she will be fine. enjoy!

“My lady Luthien!”

The words come into Arwen's dream in the common tongue, whispered and full of a child’s awe. He is speaking as if to himself — the text has surprised him, or perhaps absorbed him so that he does not realize his mouth is moving, disrupting the Sindarin read privately in his thoughts with an impulsive, delighted exclamation.

To Arwen it is just as mesmerizing. She cannot know why her dream has brought her here, to this garden of her father’s House she has sought refuge in so many a time. She knows him very little, this child, not ten in the years of Men and so very human about it, with lanky limbs folded up against himself to cradle the book and a mop of dark hair that falls down over his eyes and the very beginning of spots on his chin (of endless intrigue to Arwen, who has only ever seen skin unblemished). 

She has not met him, but knows of him from her brothers’ letters: her father’s ward, sweet and grave and beloved amongst the Rivendell kindred as any novelty in the shape of a child might be. But Estel earns it, too. He is earning his presence in her dream in the same way, sat in the exact spot she always chooses, under bows of trees she has long considered friends. He earns it, though Arwen doesn’t quite know why he’s here. 

Don’t you? ask her thoughts of her self, and she does not answer.

Years pass, and she is home again.

“My lady Luthien,” he says, as she comes toward him, and within his voice is a gentle embarrassment that still manages to tease. 

Arwen, firm in her earlier, gentle rejection (he is far too young), cannot help but find this terribly charming anyway. It is just after dinner, and she has found him behind a pillar to the side of where they dine. He holds his cup in both hands. Until her appearance he was studying the carvings on one stone edifice to their side, and seems in every way his mortal age save one: there is a new and convoluted weight in his eyes that was not there in the early afternoon, when he called so clearly and sincerely to her. It seems to have entered like the broken branches of a sapling swept into a fast-moving stream after a storm. 

“I should be greatly flattered, Estel, to be compared thus,” Arwen says, offering that weight a smile. Estel drops his eyes back to the pillar. He seems to start and stop a few times before actually opening his mouth, and when he does,

“I should like to still be called Estel, for a while yet,” and there is great vulnerability there, in his young man’s eyes. It sneaks into her breast and cups a hand over the breath she draws, and despite the glade, and his youth, and the Truth her father has now shared with him, she is compelled: Arwen’s own hand slides over his knuckles, and they are holding the cup together.

“I will,” she promises. “I do.” 

On the edge of the last word do his eyes flick up to hers, canny in a way that sparks beneath her skin. He lives up to his name, she thinks then (not quite knowing why), and when she writes this to him after they have parted, in the letters they now share, he writes back: so do you.

Before Estel, her experience of Death was altogether different. She knew it first in abstraction and then in keen loss. Now she feels its imminance and urgency, in both grand and mundane ways.

For example, earlier this evening, Arwen thought she might die if she did not kiss him. It was a thought that crept over her swiftly, silent and keen as a fresh ice water brook spilling into open hands, very different from the thundering roar of the river spirits she had summoned to herself – until it was suddenly quite the same, roaring, and it must have shown in her eyes. In the late quiet of the night she came to her rooms and found him, there. 

(She has long since known why.)

The employment of her tongue is not new, but pulls a murmur out of him regardless. “My lady Luthien,” he starts, speaking almost directly against her mouth, with a wry amusement that is not so unburdened as to be playful and not yet a warning, either, and then he is properly startled into, “Arwen —!” when her next kiss includes a bite. The rasp of beard against her chin is uncomfortable and delightful. She can feel the rumble of her small victory in his chest. Aragorn has always done so much with just the two syllables of her name.

When she has lost all breath she pulls away, and does not pant — sweet air made salty by urgency comes in and out of her lungs in discordant sighs — but her lips stay hot against his ear and she feels every press of his fingers against the slope of her waist, burning. She thinks of death again; she has fought it off. Twice in one week now, in very different ways.

Aragorn does pant, in his own way. He lets out a quiet gasp and drops his head against the side of hers, not trembling but finding some stronghold deep within himself that begets composure. 

Slowly she begins to comb her fingers through the hair at his temple. In the dark alcove of her rooms (safe), they sway together.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, and she knows: tomorrow the council is held.

“I meant it, earlier,” says Arwen softly, into his hair. It has begun to grey, the strands too hidden yet to shimmer in the moonlight but there nonetheless. Every so often she will catch a glimpse of them and it will leave her wordless, and desperate to touch him. “Your fears are not the truth you think them to be.”

“Arwen.” She can hear the desperation that threatens to choke his own voice. Duty turns the peaceful twilight of her home into a foreboding shadow. There are two large warm hands on her face before she has noticed them move, and then she feels the wetness of her own cheeks: she had not realized she was crying. 

“I did not know it would be so momentous to love,” she says, while he wipes at her tears with war-roughened, gentle fingers. So many things about Men are a paradox. So many things about this man. 

“Meleth,” he says. 

“I meant it.” She repeats herself. “I know who you are in my heart, Estel.”

“You do,” he allows her, and she is not certain he believes it to be enough. No matter, Arwen thinks: her own belief will sustain them. It must, long enough that he has hope for himself as well as for Men, and then they might cross through the door, to the other side of the Dark.  

The Queen finds her husband in Faramir’s study, reading.

“My lady Luthien,” she is greeted, words threaded full of the subtle humour that has turned her head for over sixty years.

Arwen clasps her hands over the laden basket she packed without needing any kind of foresight and sighs thinly. 

“I did expect, mel nin, that you had gone the whole day without food, but I had thought you would be found holding grave council, or visiting the head healer, or even – forgivably – in the stables. Instead, you are here, nose-deep in an ancient poem.”

“It did not come to you in a vision?” he asks, and raises his eyes just enough to catch hers from beneath his lashes. This does nothing to diminish the focus etched into his dark brow, nor the way he holds himself (always it calls to her – it does not matter the shape), nor the deep blue of his mantle sweeping against the floor; he has not paused to change since returning from the Southern Wall. Whatever peace he thinks his feigned innocence will win him, she cannot know.

“Your Steward told on you, my love.”

“Aaah,” his face falls, so dramatically it is amusing.

She holds up her basket. “I have lunch.”

“My beloved wife has developed the sensibilities of a Hobbit,” Aragorn says, in her people’s language.

“Hobbits are good and noble creatures,” she retorts. She always argues better with him in Sindarin anyhow, “and have traditions from which we might learn.” She arches a brow: “Estel.”

“I am eating,” protests Aragorn, somewhat weakly. “I mean – I will.”

“You might do so now. With me – there is no one else here.”

It is a potent suggestion, she does acknowledge. She watches him think about it, proud to note all the little tells which she has known since he was a barefaced and impulsive young man. The same canny look sparks under Arwen’s skin. Once, decades ago, she had met him in the wild woods beyond her father’s borders in a stolen moment between darkness and duty, and convinced him to bathe with her in the river. She remembers her joy at seeing his wet dark hair plastered all over his forehead. She remembers his own joy, and how it fought off the lonesome blanket of the gathering shadow.

“Your thoughts are of something I know,” Aragorn says now, suspicion arching his tone and narrowing his bright eyes, no longer that of a young man but still full of a life that thrills her. “Some joyful mischief that you’re going to coax me into again, no doubt.”

“There is sadly no river in the palace.”

“Aaah,” uttered in a very different tone from before. His eyebrows twitch out of their focused furrow and his face warms with the memory. He lowers his book a little. “Arwen …”

But he does not move from his spot behind the desk, so Arwen places her basket down and sweeps forward, intent. The silver in his hair streaks liberally now, and lines furrow down his cheeks when he laughs – often – but otherwise Aragorn remains mostly unchanged from the presence filling so little yet so much of the many years of Arwen’s memory. Affection rushes through her, swelling like the river, growing like the trees in Lorien. That glade, too, is a memory full of joy. He is much better suited to a beard, though. Arwen tells him this.

“So you have said many many times,” Aragorn says, chuckling. “I have no plans of removing it from my face, beloved.”

“I know,” Arwen hums. “I am only observing.”

Slowly she comes around the desk, on even steps, until they are very nearly touching and she can fold her hands over the top of his book. She takes a long moment to look at him, and though she in her chosen mortality no longer carries the same potency of power that Tinuviel’s blood held before, she conducts her habitual scan of his spirit, the truth of it ebbing through her fingers where they touch. Beyond her duties as Queen (of which there are many, and she both capable and willing) this is what Arwen knows most deeply in her heart how to do. 

Finding Aragorn no more burdened than usual (though perhaps a little distracted) she leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Ah –” he clears his throat and touches two long brown fingers to her arm. Unexpectedly, then, Aragorn stage whispers, “We are not … as alone as it seems.” 

“What exactly do you mean?” Arwen, paused very close to his mouth, is compelled to whisper back.

And then,

“It’s alright!” comes a familiar little voice from seemingly nowhere, and all at once Arwen looks down to see the outside shape of the King’s voluminous cloak wriggle. Her mouth parts in surprise. The whisperer continues importantly, “You may kiss Ada if you like, Naneth. We are not looking!” 

“Ssssshhh!” materializes a second, equally familiar little voice.

Arwen tilts her head, mystified, as her husband sets his expression into something communicating exclusively the secrets and patient indulgences of fatherhood. Then he jerks his chin towards the door, eyebrows raised and everything, not a moment before there sounds the sharp cadence of what can only be a young boy’s footsteps (and Arwen would know this boy’s as she knows her own heart) and into the library bursts their only son. 

At the sight of his parents, Eldarion comes to an abrupt halt, and tries very hard to compose himself. 

“Ahem,” he says, straightening. She sees the way his body moves to mimic his father, and also the grass stains on his knees, and the disheveled mop of his curls that means he has definitely spent the last hour running around in the gardens. Arwen is unbothered by this. “Hello Ada, hello Naneth. Have you – have you seen my sisters?”

The front of Aragorn stays conspicuously still.

“Your sisters?” asks Arwen, clasping her hands demurely before her.

“I am afraid my attention has been elsewhere,” says Aragorn gravely, holding aloft his book.

“Indeed,” adds Arwen. “So much so that he has forgotten to eat.”

Minutely, the cloak quivers. 

“Hmmmm,” says Eldarion, lost in focus. “I must find them to create an alliance with the brave rangers in the North,” he speaks, almost as though to himself – he is really giving this quite a bit of thought. He is so absorbed that she could be in Rivendell again, drawn by a dream into her beloved, occupied glade … “For we must defend the townspeople but I cannot do it alone.”

Arwen blinks. Her heart is filled with tenderness.

“They have assigned you the role of orc again?” Aragorn is guessing, sympathetic.

Eldarion droops only a little before springing back up with full confidence. “Yes! But I am determined that we will create an alliance. I am a good orc, you see.”

With hasty goodbyes, he rushes away, taking the excitable sound of his footsteps with him.

A moment of quiet passes. Aragorn’s cloak begins giggling, so he spreads open his arms and herds them out one by one. 

“You must go quietly now, down the hall and into the gardens,” whispers their father.

“Naneth,” begins their youngest, halfway out the room, “Naneth, do you think if we formed a nalliance –”

“An alliance,” corrects Aragorn, still whispering.

“Shhh,” interrupts the other, “or Eldarion will find us!”

“But he must be getting lonely!”

“Oh, ellie …”

Their little voices trail out of the door.

“I believe an alliance would work,” Aragorn offers Faramir’s many inert books, speaking at a normal register once more. The study now empty, Arwen turns back to her husband. His eyes are twinkling. She does not say anything, but moves toward him, as she has done so many times before, and lays her head to rest against his shoulder. In moments the book is tucked away, and the warm hands she knows so well are cradling her arms. 

After a moment he says, “You are well? Arwen?” a gentle question in her ear. Arwen nods. She can now say what she knows, and why they are here: 

She sustained them, and there was hope to be found. 

Aragorn’s fingers rub over the gauzy sleeve of her dress. “Did you have your heart set on lunch?” he asks quietly.   

“I did,” Arwen says, and turns to hold his eye. “I do.” 

[elysialm]

🌷 beloved @etherealguard asked the origin:

"Oh, evening." It takes him a moment to give her a second glance and see that she was someone unfamiliar, putting his papers down so he can properly look at her. "You're familiar with Lady Zarina, aren't you? I think I've seen you both together before."

The blessed child of dragons and reincarnation, a young man speaks to her and the maiden of life listens. Her intrigued and curious gaze finds him right away, elvish ears perking up with attention. Her pink hair sways behind her when she turns around on her tip toes, letting the fabric of her clothes to do a twirl. It's eccentric, but energetic as Elysia has always been a woman with a lot of energy sitting inside her. All will be enveloped in her love, gentleness, and warmth for Origin will always embrace who stands before it. All will begin from somewhere and she'll listen to the wishes while she can…

Ah, HIMEKO and Mobius always scolded her for that, tugging her hand from going back to those everlasting days where she'd be offering such a gentle touch. But they're no longer here… Not how it was. Eden will not sing, Aponia will not drink wine with her, Griseo will not draw, Kalpas will not cook, MEI will not chuckle softly, Su will not let her tell jokes to him, Hua will not listen to her silly advice.

"Hi~ Yes! Rina and I go back a long time ago! We are best of friends." The woman laughs, delighted to speak about her old friend and companion who's been there with her for so long. Even if time is no longer a concept to her, she treasures those memories when she was but a mortal… If such could be said. She is the daughter of the Imaginary Tree, the maiden of blessed purity and tulips blossoming under the tender touch of sunlight. "You are Dan Heng, right? She told me about you! I'm so happy you came over, Rina said you can be a bit shy," she giggles, bringing her hands to her face to stiffle her adoration. "Bu~ut who would be shy before such a maiden like me? I am as petite and sweet as the first bloom after long winter."

Her poetic speeches are not lost despite the years of being an Aeon, her journey has been endless for Origin does not have a finale to attend. There will only be beginning, the origin will always grant new chances to those who wish to pursue it with love and genuine kindness in their hearts for Elysia loves humanity and humanity will never respond in the same manner. But it is alright, her ascension has been enough to prove the type of person she'll remain.

"My name is Elysia. I'm the Aeon of Origin. Nice to meet you, Dan Heng!" Just like that, huh? But why would she hide it from someone who is so close to her beloved companion from eons ago. Zarina trusts him, the grumpy and the cold Zarina Sokolova who taught Kevin and so many recruits trusts the archiver. There is no need to hide from him. All people on this express are friends, comrades. "You can call me Ellie! All my friends call me that."

[libidomechanica]

Flower makes me fall of you the way

A sonnet sequence

               Stanza the First

One day you realize it. The mind stinging in her chanting cheerly, like wags new got to pant, transfer where Venus but lent to see the tough ones that thought doth not its own skin. Flower makes me fall of you the way we talk to each other while bigness— rocks, trees, the green Shalott. Now wee make love, that paddles in her so well as not to be invited to allot each person whose ioyes, which is in my murmured my fears and I straight and bigness of sails, the music from above she lovers, and incense rare endowments of barley-sheaves is the mavis sang, all nature, gladder than me.

               Stanza the Second

Fair Nine, forsake me a sunset; blades of golden eye peep’d o’er with so dull am, that which a minute find a tally fitted through thou dost rove these pleased to be invited to allot each pressing morn. Love you presume, thou harder hast engross below in human voices dying swans wild warblings come, draw a drap o’ the leafless timmer, sir; but in the man I love you have not speak, and me wondering her, then faded, and guest, but hears, will be fit for want of song betrays me back the solitary hills alone? What if he feared each did tipple wine from himself to give them.

               Stanza the Third

Her brows, perhaps growne slacker in her hand, as Senses all, delight. On her chilled hands, gathers voice of a great gold lichen-faithful from the faery broods drove Nymph passe: this she prove, us canonized for that’s her own Ellis Island, who then presence absent in the device of tender feel the serpent rod, and her word to a feast, and time pass’d a way! Naked on the ice chest where nothing but shade, Belovëd, I, amid the head of the daisy’s side, keep watch of old gold, a water-side, singing bird whose set our hairs, or ruined fortune and no more sweet sisters keep that nothing.

               Stanza the Fourth

A fortune and the blanks, and securely rest: if at morning eyes, was table, table- cloth and gentle love? After their own selues to compass of his golden hair, its roads sunken in like a tedious argument of insidious monarch dies, soft whispered lowly, how dark the word Miltonic mean sublime, he deigned not at first louing lay apart as sacred things. Do I dared to pray, the chambers of the mind. Around your eyes follow’d his desire greatness flickering step, I meet him on the windchime wasn’t there is as mine, with a hundred and chaste desire shall be poor.

               Stanza the Fifth

Love is come riding two and a child there will win, or else divide their hands, and securely rest: to unbosom all ill well shows, kill me why, sad and silver mail, and see how thy property and sonnebright Phoebean dart, strike the wold and singing in her hand, asleepe art dead? But could make known the after a time, the presentative of distance and Lydia agree: for since she floated wide; they went, above, all naked, playing the boatswain swore to spare it, he being only injured by the loathsome myre: such immortal hill. Like a hawk, an’ it winna let a body be.

               Stanza the Sixth

A wife as tender favourite’s woe, but love. In your pursuit. Is the way a women come and honour her, if her till I die. What it takes to-night cheap hotels and sawdust tavern at the bright sun. I had a good collections were borne, the Lady of Shalott. I risked what was not born beneath. Be Loues indeed the pure as it, yet pure, by Nature’s vernal hues: her leafy locks wave in this evenings toward the sun looked not with the world, and his resting you as Ra knew that it’s not it at all … he took you then more, speaks no more, speaks no more to pass for loue doth loath a lowly eye.

               Stanza the Seventh

As when the mountains frore, red were he is. When, in disgrace me zones and kissed you in a fit, ’t was nothing but she found, and, thou art; for that’s in her right, can love with her face. Those lover’s vow they wink with the bright dungeons lift of swimmers their scorn, its joys and grew pampered and sleep had been thinking about the person is evenings spade. Nor coin my self-love quite of all the head, to find wars, of warres and sleep so swiftly as a sheet of ashes. Than Heaven, and burgher, lord and dislike ye. Or long- hair’d page in crimson rose, how sweet retire; and region that sighed with wine, and love.

               Stanza the Eighth

And he sighed with pricking should blunter be that you mean to be at charge her tides,— adagios of islands whistles shill: wi’ wild, unequal, wand’ring in loops like a lamb he could be thy will, gude faith! Thus truly show of mouthed graves has been standing the height of those koi, still as the soil; and ev’ry day have call; for, like the minister kiss’d the wold and sing as before a purple night, below them both, and crown, slow-stepp’d, and his placid miscreant! Your judgment of sleep? Then, reading on the tribe of my yeeres much as blest angels exercise grew less and fields of barley and wonder at.

               Stanza the Ninth

Not find it there was wont the skull, Mr. His phantasy was loued aye. Honeysuckle!— As if too brittle or two. And yet again precipitate the Mind, as the drowsy noons, I have play’d with a ruby large enow to draw men’s eyes, in the distance brew’d, to the water white lilies grow; a heav’nly paradise. They han the picture of this fool lord, dare I not tell who; When did my coat, and coole. With the nights. Anthea bade me time, before? Made of jasper that sighed with scorn. The thick leaves less on Nature, pitying it, of Stella must be history. The God, as authority.

               Stanza the Tenth

I wake to life? And as I stood prepared to gathered placed, mark if her timely warning toward feather in the guarded nymph of thilke same and tree, soft-brushing, in his turn: the river add one more rare. But in two years since Frank sat at this is the granting cheerless virtue we could not disturb her praises in the wars, the tame such pretends them pitied be, was ne’er love in like a chart my life is complain, swoon’d, murmur are rustling then the urn once more instead I say you are fair, and useful all share as much that start from ancient love from breast—my eyes more, and tree, soft-brushing, head to head.

               Stanza the Eleventh

Before her other woman in our lives a garden which outweighs argosies,—as purply blackbirds in a lonely wild: but woman was ever turning, banishest so I shall cease; whether to faint visions, and they look, shall part us! And loose our flesh upright. Such as morning to not waiting darkness greeted by a double row, which the coal has poured pearls, while wanton coot the edges of thine eye and heart that long I love not known, and damning there will wail thee, and the snake, but seal with oaths, fair God! But when a fool’s eye lightning on thy paine, a pet-lamb in a sentimental farce!

               Stanza the Twelfth

Look, what are ye worn with Wine the first house by the might give rest, or quiet gloom will singing my sweet refrain came from himself is not stem and cloudy rack, south-westward too. Know her shame because I love that now unpunished hence, a short sweetest soueraigntie of reason why ye droop and we drowned? Doorknob, for you and I, having no cause then where my state, like this song to young to marry yet; I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, ’twad be a single heart’s history is writ in moods and growes cold, nor could be her lion roll in a sweet Spirits cannot live: tell her great crop to spare; for thy?

               Stanza the Thirteenth

Where both loved, that I have still thee shadow I will never miss’d it yet, Gae seek for pleasure of this discoverings made for lay-men, are all my time, time to try it to which, from poore Nymph and Satyrs, Fauns, and judg’d, and roses show when my friend, right he reclines on his eyes. No palaces, where reason why ye droop and we drowned? Catch not my breast is cold, thy looks the first the throne,— and the houses high, when my glass shows me myself like a significant myth The soul gave afresh, as if a magic lantern they roam, by creeks and forgot to partake that moves from a wood, where the saint whistled and fear much more, it had profusion pump in the dead was summer long curl’d to think on thy tears: all of the clouds, as mortal as I was, though I neuer see thy sweet tales of our sleep, your mind. Ingots, like him, therefore the danger like new flowers your tears shed would it have been born is gone.

               Stanza the Fourteenth

When they read her children, husbands, for thou steal thee a thousand panes of threate: let powre dicerne. Pressing and purple robe he wore a wannish glare in fold upon a platter, I am not think I may be the petty though from Camelot still live through the night-birds flie, that Angers show. Held out its arms and light that bosom strange their popping watch them still, in the rack and I sunned it would it have no more authority. Bury one hung with unripe cones each exuding at her liable to cool ye. But after that heart, I know, the lakers, in and alternate and blest but I.

               Stanza the Fifteenth

A glorious, and her and yes I said, Sweet you. That the sky; and love were in lauish cups and made the Muse on stately stage, and runs by add one more of hem was lost, whereto this bad age; so bad, that flashest white, deepening through yonder glade, apt emblem of a virtuous blushes; let thy will. Listen while the same ring. For thy dead in silent and the sky which range, and I do love. She lifted her strange, strange. Fair is growing off, such wealth your hand to all, to each, to the dust beneath a consequence, was bent, full royally apparelled, as he rode down from his lips; he sang of pee.

               Stanza the Sixteenth

But beauty moue; whose barren back when throne: see not wet: if it could none had ever watchful with my eyes even to have her as well agree; wit tempers they fetched growes wear, pass onward, as on he rode down from their lustres with Molly Bloom and here and louely hate. With all the heauens did quake his very carefully composed with grief, of dogs and damning thing when it shows its wings in the lily’s throned queen the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle! Doves and tears: and I shall I live, supposing themselves: what good thing tower’d Camelot: or where beside you: on your play, and given her voice, such as mortal parts lay the sun. Where icy and brown till human voices dying with all that I could put off cheerfully, to bathe the stories are few! I hae sworn by thee sweet for ever alone: but when a fool’s eye lightning something died, my mother thought doth breathes my way: they were strangers show.

               Stanza the Seventeenth

I tell you alone for thou wilt, remember that, when she charm enough to dull am, that his grandame Nature’s law. Its lay hidden in her web she stood, as he rode down from my bosom tear the very friends, those crimson rosebuds bent the dead; seen there besides. The web and flowers set in the cause more steadily, the same ring. A shell was he, white arms spread out against you turned to the seer. Of his golden age. It seems to me. When I was forst from above; give thy rocky bed, thy property and thou swearest, grant maid, be you moved their turn from thine eye and horror have to spend ye.

               Stanza the Eighteenth

Like and waves that to my mistress’ eye Love’s deep woods, I dreamer, awake unto me! Before going hurt my days are due to those helplessly, and toward the tide: and thou say is not so, my Tory, ultra-Julian? And thirty-one thick withal, as the closing like a calendar in one-night he fell into a swooning love it will get ye, or that’s why it mustn’t be said, but who am I kidding? Distant heard a Wild Flower shall profiteth me not to be; am an attendants; then the sound of time through the Eye, new seaweed on the distaind with endless torments and the time.

               Stanza the Nineteenth

She dwelt but have been from thee, dear. I feel her grow silent seas. But after successful couples, woven in the Muses dwell: vnwisely managed, that to these, or the year, I walked the sun looked not at all my worth, conceiv’d with a single light brown hair! Till the goods to feed the remember being humane to her; now, young tree’s supple bough, and that she heard him say again, cold, in that was serpent, but a rich result of all sense did her up for that heart, or salve neglect: they who should know that they did all the rank grass, an amatory banquet of a dance, and pleasure of thy name.

               Stanza the Twentieth

I would toil; and even wearied of that. Wearing, like the pearls away, as with soft deceit. Sung, and weary be, as well agree; wit temperature. Your dear self, for their own course, the though in Cupid’s name. Wildly fancy to run; at night, since they have measure know how vertues be, shewes loue and Loue, who then perhaps some overwhelming question, to seek for never durst compare. Of both the mirror crack’d from a dress was like angels, but lived with old Benbow; and he who must be! I must deny: whilst ravish’d ears of mine came out of all love do? As the quartz in their proud heart of stone!

               Stanza the Twenty-first

Inward in the mortal hill. God fostering, but a smile as sunny hair, its roads sunken in the sounding brook, with a joint overturning light, drawn after all, after he begun. And Sally she weaves always you recede through the specious stones, would have kissed his hand he who understands it would, as my thoughts or thy dead in silence like Atlanta’s balls, cast in my heart think our selves are about going away. The same ring. Otherwise,—past whirling piano appassion, from weary’d with scorn. To gain her whisper’d, passing with one blind turtle hiding me, and too tall her beauty.

               Stanza the Twenty-second

My heart, destroy the beautie drawes the green of mossy tread in that is not live by love, and the nations there. The sun looked out my life filled, blue in the cignet’s down, in beds the goods to feede youth go use to blame, from breastplate which they smil’d their heads of greatest, so oft as their own, belonging to her forehead a beam of Camelot: for ere she was allowed to crowded and it would have time throughout her painted face sharpen’d slowly, till Cherry ripe themselves awake, and attendants; then they roam, by creeks and be thy chief desire to be of us verse a vacant leave Scotia’s strand.

               Stanza the Twenty-third

Like greeting year! Be in thee most firmly to the leafless timmer, sir; and life is over, and some descended Pleiad, will never see it in the middle line, yet of the village streets that lie remote Shalott. I break a single breath, as the measure of my eyes. Made of stone, the loftie verse preserved from majestic swims, and early light and lips and make out silver mixed to one deep learned: to bury one hung with her refreshing dew, how pure, doth wear, is heap’d upon a child, I felt delight there are those looks with mine eye and my poor heart moves over green and reason fades, in leaves.

               Stanza the Twenty-fourth

How I could make me blest, o why that th’eyes of arrows infinit. Licked its mouth foam’d, and thereof she saw or knew; all in every part, so God and incense rare endowments of the love-hat relationship on. Slowly whisper I love though the ground? Many ill with joined hands. Would I dance and prove: the vaunteth no less thing—I saw in my gaol: and yet, I’ll look at someone drowned things extremest kisse-worthy of those are just such dispart its most ambiguous atoms with endlessly. Her lord she be fasten or deflect this hour the son, but close the milky way, all of you will, gude faith!

               Stanza the Twenty-fifth

That as no one extremes of one another, or two: but if the night, alleviating there incessantly with theirs; as free her stepp’d, and the dark confess, mine is the fall of adoring tear. Upon your poems stink like rose-buds fill’d with wine, and nought but if ye come and she grief of life confide, the sun came a youth in every day have joys divine with vair and angels’ lays; for, to the child for the scorn that’s in her voice, so in her was the heights of reason at all admire, would it has no one tends is also I was forst from all the literally the whisper I love no more.

               Stanza the Twenty-sixth

We have been worth do define, as to a Midwife, shew the eastern soft beams, and throstle’s lay; if I can say thy fault is youth, some greatness was she loves, in ridles, and the mazy web she were curious were strange. She is but vainly guest; distance brew’d, to the humpback in his former might: so, love, I fill thy hungry eyes were to pass their lustres with feast and that soon it will love her tongue into the old stone breaks, and, swiftly filed, already, known sorrow for her tongue, and you and I! Gasping for a courtesy not returning thy presently it was like fat, breath’d new blisse, and change.

               Stanza the Twenty-seventh

Which they wither’d from Stella (O dear name! Were seen for aye undone. Of bold Sir Lancelot. I saw the starry skie. Kept itself at least for gathering all brighter there half-hid in those which make her liable to come. Make me the coast, the walked the cause of God do go, are very zealous woods they grew; a goodly perspective of directions were but slyly stealth mayst know time’s thievish progression, from poore Muse hath she, blown back when the fiddler’s wife; the song that man’s bed, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin to tak me frae my mammy yet. And all her frail-strung hearts and pestle.

               Stanza the Twenty-eighth

And thus inquired: thou smooth-kissing by, and gave your lit harvesting the solemn night, alone, I marry yet; I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin to tak me frae my mammy yet. Scope to all, thought, or with a joint overturning, shift still as the lacquer of her beauty still enjoy hats, but that for more return’d to body, I allow, and know my wrist is naked. So prayse is smoke, that has washed dust clouts that clothes held up to God, or downward stray impassioned in her ear. The universe into a ball to roll in a sunset in the pain, I say.

               Stanza the Twenty-ninth

In philosophic gown: lycius shrank closer, as through the harsh russet of dried blood. Soul’s Rialto hath in the envious scene I’ve stolen like a patient etherized upon fold upon the immortally to you when I am naked as a fish-woman, a carpenter by trade; and reason with the loss of his new system I shuffled and chastitie: o eyes, and deadly drede, so as the long with miseries, she saw no more. I have wept alone beweep my outcast state and by my powers defy, until he found, and, whence they came again; as when thro’ the best presume?

               Stanza the Thirtieth

Children she heart is tied? Licence and she only one, and I, having like to a shade—for pity do not known, flowers, and amethyst, and to the terrible tumble downward like an imbecile she had not have been worth while if one, settling a pillow by her sighes, and sticks, bleached by time. No time hath never a victim and a doorknob, for you all—if one, settling a pillow or throwing off bridge, I know; yet dare not see you birth as summer long: and as for merit at her five talent and treated like a winter hath more wary than the plaguy bill? Beams: o folly!

               Stanza the Thirty-first

And by this learning mayst true love killer, I am taking to bed I take off shoes. In its little ambition, which to prevented ere it even its wings, and must be? Since mad March great matter by the streams. The silver snowy sentence. A fainting mind marde, whom I love so much more, it has not be, but when some freakful chance of powerfull Cupid’s college she earth; been the one who would not imitate the pole; in these our play, yet if he had spent sweet days are done, that need grew a seething tower’d Camelot still a Boy, and stuttering film blew out his place me where you see.

               Stanza the Thirty-second

The way and nightly to the sky; proud, shall still reigne. And might give thought patience. For will to delight. Yet Helen, I know you so you will, approve, let in the fairy, if I can tell by thine eye and hating your mind spills through a thousand tropics in an apple brightness, start with endless toil, that heau’nly blisse youth of Corinth, where the day! Short of despair, half-taught his flocks or till the Passions which in the corners of the year, I walk’d with thickset fruit. When I behold a forest fires. A grateful love, a love of him. And once about going off a shawl, and all distance and earth tis true.

               Stanza the Thirty-third

Like a coin in my murmured my fears, night& morning’s eye, numberless song, So how should say: to many flowers, its lay the Dryads and the gross mud-honey of town, he may say he’s bought her, O! An abbot on an ambling pad, sometimes she had in her veins that must be curbed and silver mixed to habit; and, could arise and four graves has been the worst. Tossing and dropping mouths, that she might before she reach’d upon the window- panes, licked its mouth, each bending eyes, of Satyrs knelt; at whose diapason knells on scrolls of the room the head, nor coin my self-love tie; next, when your sleep twelve hours of prayer.

               Stanza the Thirty-fourth

Slow-stepp’d serener palaces, where green. Citations, continued fusion I think it strange, and pleasure, and sea; then where by water, among the vapours leave Scotia’s shore? I rue the strength of all the world became my garden. So how should study the twelve hours of threate: let powre in love in half- deserted street, whom but Maud shoulders wind and louely hate. Care not stem and cloudy rack, south-westward toe, her mouth with pedestrian Muses, contented least; yet in the charm. Return that’s why it mustn’t be his: her leafy locks wave in the rich might tempting so; I must have been worth wanting first.

               Stanza the Thirty-fifth

The offence, this in that brave vibration, frozen in passing by, behold her, Hermes, let me loveliness. She woke up old at last have Helen in jealousies of this way. Whom but Maud should. Denied the soil; and night for her to leade, in rymes, in wondrous bright true love excelled to man. A sweeter flowery meads the green of mossy tread, by a clear as crystal streamlet and faults graced; the please keep your hip; the sweet virtue’s image, that had largely give me tie her she goes. As it with ingratitudes of Poesie, yet little fork the winds are not predicate, tis true. This love.

               Stanza the Thirty-sixth

Or where my hand and rose-trees were furled. She cried and hard to reade in the chest; that they came. That thou have more than appetite, which parts lay hidden in the gale: I had a splendorous, sinking dolefully, doefully, doefully, to bathe was a child: now the chambers wide, till a Boy, and by the ghost begins to quicken, confusion of the sun, how after you, whom I would put off cheerfully, to bathe was allowed, the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle. Tis a work must be done, we’ll let me tell how she could na preach. Up her steep her hair. Free her straining, that thou wilt, forget. Silks to flow.

               Stanza the Thirty-seventh

, Blame my young man, a carpenter by tradition is like some branches green Shalott. Perhaps were blue, and weary be, as well forgot. Could contain her, she did but dream of comely should she adore? The dapper ditties, the only, one return, turn again in to this flocks to flow, and taken him to thee with the dewy star; in crystal— and dream, then sitting alone. And the awful crown them all: have known the ampersand, through tress-lifting for our day one single breathed, dissolv’d: Crete’s forest spread a beacon, bare as suddenly for your books anoint me, and grew a seething off bridge.

               Stanza the Thirty-eighth

Where roses mid his golden hood? Shall profit thee are seen while you a place, for an age to find all vices free, like anarchism thoughtfully at Venus’ temple, this poem but then my one chance is as good as me; for souls away; give the grass and gone, with words where it be warme, for speaking either heart let myself there I will die of love a young to mine eyes o’erflowing it back and dewdrops wet; and love flowing and scanty to head. Yet swam in ioy, such wit impart as what the stream of comfort I have learne; thinke on this full of sun on wood cabins, the children save each other?

               Stanza the Thirty-ninth

One hope inside of Beauty’s light or the autumn mild; when I presumption more than is yon moon which, from whom thou didst break a single changed … There’s no beginning like religion but exerted that speech than looks; bidding him raise my idle sprightly to the very way. Which parts the fall from her lawns give way; which rainbow shell that pious fear begin to doubted Knights, doe beare the King’ this old song and stout as chives, and he who must be history. Excuse me, love killer, I am taking of a year, in the stake did but see her person exactly one hope inside you: on your eyes.

               Stanza the Fortieth

No shadows of her spared, that thing but pain and of time to try it when it shows its will with buds and filthy head, blush’d a live damask, and then drove south. For thou shalt hap to die at peace I’ll teach what taste whole floor— and thro’ the signs. Late at nights a funeral, with thy body too; cold wonder fearingly, among the foot of the poem. A Body perfect healthfull flame. Lapping with pain. A deep vermilion in thy lip, eye, and with zeal. Carve it in fears, night&morning’s light hangs o’ joy. Up past the quilts, crooning, closer, as thou art too coarse to look down to look her wanting ear, no false heart.

               Stanza the Forty-first

Or chide my dearest dear; but Woman love, and take her hand to the next was death: one sigh did heare. With a dauntless verdure, turn’d to the wide world, O, yellow-leaved vine, fair Nine, forsake me blest, knight, alone, I marry yet; I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin to tak me frae my mammy yet. Let us go, through the clouds of sorrows given the others their airy silks my Julia’s dainty dish to sette thy flight: nor doth her breathe! Only give me tie her stand so more did move but the dresses you wear are figures also, we could weep, and was best, the children’s eyes already, known injury.

               Stanza the Forty-second

Each bending courtier from amaze into each severall waies, to please of these reports, because well enough to shake loose the little like a pilot light and bind, deeming autumn mild; when I behold another age. And with the houses high, bob, And fall for the Cross, his eyes, her hand: true to the dust beneath his honor, or dusky brake. It’s not profusion pump in the chancel port and pestle. Of use, politic, cautious, and something tower’d Camelot still lingered upon the streets, the sun beats your tender, and small. As he knew its bonds, for I would have seen from Camelot.

               Stanza the Forty-third

As I wander favourite’s woe, but I can do for your body rocking! How have yet many subtle gestures ensure your salary; was’t for the night. Your though in Cupid’s name. And, Do I dare? You will, we are married until I cried and feather burn’d like tempest’s roaring, the pale yellow- leaved waterlily the wheel in you, who would have seen them all: one, as a consequence of tradition we’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin o’t. They know what beautie drawes the Pez Dorado, the Discount Wares, they shall things of greater share. Woman a love each pretence claime any manner place.

               Stanza the Forty-fourth

Even this countenance with crabbed care the stories are foil’d by the living its sleek young to me. How like Eve’s apple doth bow to me, as throughout her country, so, my love though a thousand others in verse; but I love O soul, abhorrence for its gains. From high, where I knew that along with vases, to one deep in tune thy selfe at large a mind. Whether to dress off the lythe Caducean charm. I wanted was; since this singing bird whose circle of our beds and joy: more ord’nary eyes even wearied, said he, hold up your head, half dead, and pain my black, an’ it winna let a body be.

               Stanza the Forty-fifth

Though I have gassed the plague are the Muses treasures of Crete. By a double row, which I love a youth; one has when she heart and crown, slow-stepp’d, and that she sung, it seems to bring ye love: quest. Up in Pennsylvania humps on thy hair all uncurl’d: pr’ythee quit this mortal as I was, therefore what I writ, your minds, and raging, beneath your dog, fondle youth of such murdering wings, and estrange to see your hand to the helmet flow’d his rosy terms in idle languid arm, delicate day, setting the water we can buy, till a Boy, and oft a wannish fire sprinkled streets and the spokes of the year?

               Stanza the Forty-sixth

A sweet days and was Ambition, pale corpse she floating dais before? That if thou canst a vacant heard no more, won’t believe in give rest, or chide my pains? His mind wrapp’d like him, there are too slow; she was at heavenly zone. And a flute, and their sustenance needs, a future cordial climb, a dream, cherish no less that sacred islands whistles shill: wi’ wild, unequal, wand’ring step, I meet him on the bright that is not; wondering wide with silent musings of distant view from her bower-eaves, the motions, and dropping wit, and, when I see that night, continues cold, she made to bow, to give them.

               Stanza the Forty-seventh

On Love’s jealousy to followed to dedicate in honest man’s lore so well; for, praising her. Soldiers find where he is. With gentle Lycius, and so have heard, in gentle swain, an evening faire outside, where, in the sun beats lightning on the boulder quite herculean Is it not Wit, the news around, pensive this love. I’ll wear the sire to be out of wings when you moved the hair of ragged claws scuttling a pillow past midnight, a full-born beneath a constellation to disputing schools, and ocean and there’s no great matter made for my help lies whose child love is then thy place?

               Stanza the Forty-eighth

That sweet beloved grows heavier, hardier, heaven gracious intent till she prayed, though he wanton coot the skies. The abundant two on sponge and four gray walls, or found Wit: od’s Life! Shall I call me from his wind-tossed hair was twine continuing in complicated machinery, becoming thus, by consequence, and placed, mark if her elfin blood, transparent, and less; thou should so soon divide the royal children she does, blessing mortality alone for that you wrong: you take thee again, and drown his heart of my dreams our waking their hands held up to God, or downwards with the rest.

               Stanza the Forty-ninth

The yellow fog that beauteous roof to ruinate which expands, the Iliad as this part. And four graves will get ye, or true-love tie; next, when I behold, and still cries, Giue me so? As well a well-wrought into my garden which none may buy, till public as the livelong hour: but these hills alone? Intent to be. And beneath the boy for triumph was allowed long ago; and I the hands avian, to syringe-feed the tyrant-hater he begun. And often swore with Sally Brown! They now transfuse thy body, I allow, and then drove south. Your words, so I must deny: whilst Ben he was back from the morn was cloud, and kept his rest: if at morning coat, my collar mounting goes; pure-bosom’d griefs alike resign in mingle with loved, the user so destroys all pain but pity: thus the lovest! Am weary’d with that one swear the vortex of our grave the heavens. While he afraid.

               Stanza the Fiftieth

And a maid more believeth all its gains. Which parts the door, lay on thee. In port Cenchreas’ shore; for they please in bigger notes in fear Twice or the scorn that they call freshly blew the harsh russet of dried blood. In the skirts had fallen in the dooryards and ached for Love. To dance with rapture, I would it have but glimpses of her clothed all warblers her still water? And helmes vnbruzed wexen dayly browne. The Mind like the melodie. And reason no man know. And are asleep: a maid of love; yet now call her sails were sweets alang: in ev’ry thing both sexes As of old to entangle me no more.

               Stanza the Fifty-first

To the shore: but change my sense did through the Eye would engross below, at forty-odd befell; they went, above, I feel the sea which can make the one who in despite of view its bonds, for I would put our two bodies fill with one Beauty, you can, gifts will with brighter shore, where two contract, and her lip? And then safely might nowhere by waters flow, I walked in like a hawk encumbered with me? Why do ye weep, it could care the tempest in the slaking of a bee! And a few Persian mutes, the moth-time of one-too-many anguish drear, hot, glaz’d, and virulent; her eyes: what I knew ye not?

               Stanza the Fifty-second

And how should have been a pair of the sun, his wings whose hopes are about going down, in beds the gods ordain’d this very talent to a coarser place; where no sin unbolts the fame you cannot raise his drooping head, half dead, my dear. Is a kitten off her elfin blood of yours you’d have seen the skull, Mr. What won you doth grow: now off with her when I behold is censured by men; Thou Angel brings that oil’d and adorning; such tremble in the artificer, then they rang on your iris tightens mechanically around your ear still in fairest most of folly haunting Poetry!

               Stanza the Fifty-third

And love she loueth best, the goddess off the midnight air beat upward too. Love is slightly to the river and she to spend thy many brittle darts, for hitherto thou lead away, like to some holy house. Anyhow, it seem’d it withered in their souls away; for thy dead in silence like a high windows? So in a silken sail’d, then he perceiving of Michelangelo. Six-thirty years hence. I drag it out and kept unused, the throne,—and thou away, as with years, till I see a glorious nothing tower’d Camelot: and sometimes through the clouded weather in the daffodils.

               Stanza the Fifty-fourth

Stained, blue in the roads, as the Jews from ancient cathedrals what is our lowd desire shall profiteth me not too far that Peggy made for fear would sink admiration lie; she was a woman a’ her will, but here I never a face? Adam, from wood to wood, for thy? In the rivers, still she did seem reall, though I knew myself I’ll vow debate, for souls can penetrate: fixed to habit; and, fool I was! And out still the nice remember that place in that where nothing that heart in other couple burned, but their minds, and I cried and for trial needs to be free; then where no great black, the Braine.

               Stanza the Fifty-fifth

An’ aft my wife she bang’d me, if Time, there’s much as once heard him self mine that—loved so fast increase that lengthen fetters but grows colder? Hath taught from his blazon’d baldric slung a mighty manhood, for on the deaf heaven gracious and lightning hazel bowers, and rose-trees and threw their souls away and rubies, corals, scarlet Iudges, thretning blood. Is also a garden rusting from sullen earth—the earth; been the water- flowered lea spread out again precipitate the campers. Self might climb the slaking of Michelangelo. And I am no longer analogous, I go.

               Stanza the Fifty-sixth

Get the foam, from the moon, the rest torn out. Gifts will singing in its little joy or fear. And in one grief; for such vicissitudes she wonder the streams. Come, for she choose. That has washed its hands. Nor Love’s spheres of Crete. Was the knock-kneed broom instead. Has left hand, hammer in her e’e? Through black lips, if they began to shock a saint, refused all its garden, flowers it is the dreade, the two and a few Persian mutes, whose Christians of the oar! Droop, droop no more did you blind to worth a perpetual dullness. On your hand to all mankind, a tinkering bed. You wear a torn place me when we wonder at.

               Stanza the Fifty-seventh

Perhaps the sunset in thy fault is youth of such mirror, darkly; but the windows? The boy for truth upon thy gain. Nymph might climb the slabbed steps below, and the lacing o’t. Where all in everlasting them. Jealous curls as on her own bones. That jewell’d shone the shore: but who rewards her head of grandmother tucked up, she a-hunting clear, blush’d into necessarily even know the pinch of burning her deathsong, glad I see; my foe outstretch’d out, at ease, beneath the crocus lustres of Crete. And lay the Heaven entirely must restaurants with a ruby large from Heaven!

               Stanza the Fifty-eighth

In signature and balcony, by garden which when I am weary’d with silken skilled transmemberment of my chaste she straitened bounds of juniper enfolding like a hawk encumbered with no more as I’ve doted her face where green of my self-love tie; next, when she chanted loudly, chanted lowly, how dark the wood-nymph’s beauty still as the loss of her pious deeds, a future Roman soul desponds beneath the books and dame, to tend the excess of a lost love me, love me. Thus, while the blossoms blown. In the wild hills, the major part of stone, though soon life’s thorny path o’ care.

               Stanza the Fifty-ninth

Anyhow, the very trees. Day! For often grac’t, ah! Any more spotless than the dust. Now Ben had heart’s shore? The goddess when the world is lightning hand: true to the maid? Surveyed her far away? Like greeting year! And turning like religion but it is clear, blush’d moment in their images of life. Fair Nine, forsaken; a torment thrice three figures on a sloping green of my dream, with rest in rymes of rybaudrye. How did it with stars, like in each bird’s fluttering leagues of meanest worth while, to have often thro’ the leave me on me suddenly; and the word. How to serve me so digress?

               Stanza the Sixtieth

They keep me constant in a shade—for pity! Or when I am no longer cultivated than she; each under the waves blown to Camelot. Would not hear the new waitress, pretty flower, nor ever rest; the prosperous woods were wan and wood, he heart’s history is writ in moods and filthy heart is rest: to unbosom all ill well show thee hast left for earthly lyres, while her was so fast increase that thou hadst set me an example, shown me the village churls, and by name, Bannockburn, Passchendaele, Babi Yar, Vietnam. Bright planet, thou art too coarse to love men and reproach.

               Stanza the Sixty-first

Her honest simply murder. That for fear of Marses hate, for though hate had put them also, there began the phenomenologically from crime, perhaps from one trance, beholding like a cliff swinging Here Comes the Grashopper so poore, and so he chewed his pigtail till he died, we slide into each a fame, if ye gie a woman has’t by kind. Moves the budded peaks of the air of the dead, come sliding back, and bade it, sparkled on thee, and, swiftly filed, already hang, shred ends from poore me were soon exhaled, and the tingling toward the linnet pours, the mazy web she weaves among, chance.

               Stanza the Sixty-second

And recollection whisper of its bloom. Thine or two. Even to love, that she wonder what was to be conscious of despair, half-taught my hand. That entirely must restaurants with feast with its memory to the very friend must we part, and the bed. Naked as somewhat slackt the twilight erasing stag and his great black air under pines in summer and he might freely come, as thou should have to good: but, ah, Desire still on Menie doat, and leave to slavery my sweet whispers of the world is light from eyes by to tower’d Camelot. But I was wont, and tree, the glory as his.

               Stanza the Sixty-third

He that favourite’s woe, but rather so; yet young to marry the beach, a piano at her five talent to gathering light—the head, to find all these did play: a charmed God began an oath, and a celestial heat burnt from before the Adonian feast; whereof to Cuddie can arise? To the flowers at morning to marry the bett for tombs and hearts for thou should’st depart,— beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart receive this is throbbing blood knots in space, both the guarded nymph might through to show the top, and who, as when from Camelot still lingering ilka bud which, when rising and told the apple bright, but found there’s much obeyed him, but straight ice I know she’s star appear as beams, and a night, and in his turn: the ringlets of her, by us; we two better, they did her Maker praise and brow. When I touch her garment was a lady bug with only taken up upon it?

               Stanza the Sixty-fourth

Pious, generous, just and goosebumps lift, it’s your tender eye; what won you to an oval, square, or hand those sacred light. This year had exploded symmetrically in things of distant head demaundes, ne wont with crabbed care the ryme should vanish’d, also she melted and hesitation, thus began the chest tiptoe with thee here turning north, even for the day, and bore its fragrant my bootless cries and love, I fill thy hungry eyes make away on a flood, the hunger-starved, the not wet: if it could put off cheerfully, to bathe them all: one, as well as Sight. Counted in your wrists like knots.

               Stanza the Sixty-fifth

In one grief of life long salt winding sheets. Flowing through still as the calm’d twilight for the night he fell to hear her when your rayes! Which to prevent, shows a thrift in his small, washed dust clouts that so, when in glory, for Loves Crowne, all carried. Sun’s golden thro’ my very bones sweate, the illusion thereof. Up in Pennsylvania, I met a press- gang crew; and Sally Brown young Ben he was a part, so God and he bore a pillars and dame, to the last of tuneful as a flute, and this vanished hence, the voice of miracle. Land they will wail thee, like it and in sonnets pretty follies mote be fair.

               Stanza the Sixty-sixth

Rivals in the night for ever turn himself such a Tyranne fell: that thou art true, embracing loose from Heaven to look into each other, and is he gone, with wares which doth the sprinkled streets and in each respect. Somebody who should be her lap did share; while you are wed. The fall of youth, of love will be time to prepare a face? Have their season which is perfect draught; over these hills he fared, the only Queene of love began. Out the heroes if silence with thickset fruit. I have gassed the universal influence free; then we wonder if April dress’d hard, as bells of threat for me?

               Stanza the Sixty-seventh

How did her smiles: but what the circles bridge, I know i’ve no excuse to talk to each. To feed it soup? I love him with thee a heav’nly paradise had been, and love without her needs na say she did smart; I sawe that she showed with a clasp and kisse, lasted heart. I dream of greater multitudes in Heaven. So he burn’d; themselves awake, and thirty in the certain half-shut feathers voice will more prevail, and Southey! And haply of our love; I hate you deeply, and cream commingled; and in chafe, him from the dead, flying of a bee! That upward shoot. The bay crown! I tell you leave Scotia’s strand.

[keldae]

The lovely Eli’anara for the equally lovely @storyknitter! Thank you for the kofi! ^_^

Feed the Jawa’s KoFi addiction

[weclassybouquetfun]

The Golden Globes nominations are here and since the Hollywood Foreign Press are still persona non grata there hasn't been much of a stir regarding their choices.

GOLDEN GLOBE NOMINATIONS (FILM)

Best Motion Picture — Drama Belfast CODA Dune King Richard The Power of the Dog *Haven't seen CODA. Belfast is a kitchen sink drama. It has its charm but is unremarkable. Dune suffers from being the first entry so it's all world building. The technical aspects are great, though. TPOTD's punch only comes in the final act. KING RICHARD is a true crowd pleaser with excellent performances.

Best Screenplay — Motion Picture Licorice Pizza Belfast The Power of the Dog Don’t Look Up Being the Ricardos *Haven't seen BEING THE RICARDOS. It's DLU for me, very funny screenplay and relevant. Best Director – Motion Picture Kenneth Branagh, Belfast Jane Campion, The Power of the Dog Maggie Gyllenhaal, The Lost Daughter Steven Spielberg, West Side Story Denis Villeneuve, Dune *I haven't seen THE LOST DAUGHTER, but while Villeneuve did a wonderful job with the size and scale of DUNE, I think overall Spielberg nailed it WSS. It was a true homage and gorgeous to look at. Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye Olivia Colman, The Lost Daughter Nicole Kidman, Being the Ricardos Lady Gaga, House of Gucci Kristen Stewart, Spencer *Haven't seen BEING THE RICARDOS or THE LOST DAUGHTER. I really have to go with Gaga for this one. HOG is her film, she's really entertaining. Chastain has heart in TEOTF but it came off as a caricature. Stewart cannot shed her acting ticks to fully become Lady Di.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in any Motion Picture Catriona Balfe - Belfast Araiana Debose- West Side Story Kirsten Dunst -The Power of the Dog

Aunjanue Ellis- King Richard Ruth Negga - Passing *Tough category. Debose was incredible, Negga was a delight, Dunst was strong and certainly had more of a thrust than THE BEGUILED the last film she had awards buzz on, Balfe is fine, but Ellis created a fully formed person. She have life to Oracene and was so authentic.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture — Musical or Comedy Marion Cotillard - Annette Alana Haim - Licorice Pizza Jennifer Lawrence - Don’t Look Up Emma Stone - Cruella Rachel Zegler -West Side Story -Everyone was strong and deserves their nominations. I have to go with Emma Stone.

Best Motion Picture — Musical or Comedy Cyrano Don’t Look Up Licorice Pizza Tick Tick Boom West Side Story - I'd be fine with either WSS or TTB, but TTB has the advantage of Garfield's performance. Best Motion Picture — Animated Encanto Flee Luca My Son Ahmad Raya and the Last Dragon Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture — Drama Mahershala Ali, Swan Song Javier Bardem, Being the Ricardos Benedict Cumberbatch, The Power of the Dog Will Smith, King Richard Denzel Washington, The Tragedy of Macbeth - Haven't seen SWAN SONG or BEING THE RICARDOS. Cumberbatch's performance is sneakily good. It seems like he's not doing much when he is really drawing a compelling character. You always get Will Smith when you do a film which isn't a bad thing it's just he's always Will Smith. Washington really made the text in THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH workable. He and McDormand were excellent and I'm shocked she wasn't recognized.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in any Motion Picture Ben Affleck - The Tender Bar Jamie Dornan -Belfast Ciarán Hinds - Belfast Troy Kotsur -CODA Kodi Smit-McPhee -The Power of the Dog *Haven't seen CODA yet; Smit-McPhee was good in TPOTD, Dornan was fine but had little to do, Hinds was the heart of the film for me, but I really enjoyed Affleck in TTB. Affleck truly excels in supporting roles. I think he views himself as a character actor and he feels freer in that role despite this role actually having more screentime than the true leads Daniel Ranieri and Tye Sheridan.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture — Musical or Comedy Leonardo DiCaprio -Don’t Look Up Peter Dinklage - Cyrano Andrew Garfield -Tick, Tick… BOOM! Cooper Hoffman - Licorice Pizza Anthony Ramos - In the Heights *Haven't seen ITH, Dinklage is charming in Cyrano and holds his own in the singing dept.; Hoffman was just fine in LP, it's great seeing DiCaprio playing an anxious character because his characters are always so confident and unflappable (and it's wild how much he looks like his father George - who pops up in LICORICE PIZZA) in this. But it's Garfield for me.

Best Original Score — Motion Picture The French Dispatch Encanto The Power of the Dog Parallel Mothers Dune *Haven't seen Parallel Mothers or Encanto. Desplate and Zimmer offers more of the same. As a Radiohead fan I'm always going with Jonny Greenwood; though his score for SPENCER was better than TPOTD and Licorice Pizza. Best Original Song -- Motion Picture Be Alive - King Richard (Beyonce) Dos Orugitas - Encanto (Lin-Manuel Miranda) Down to Joy - Belfast (Van Morrison) Here I Am (Singing My Way Home) - Respect (Jennifer Hudson) No Time to Die - No Time to Die (Billie Eilish) - "Be Alive" is certainly stirring at the end of KING RICHARD, but I didn't love any of these; especially Van Morrison's song (or any of the numerous songs of his they used in BELFAST).Surprised Bono was locked out because while "Your Song Saved My Life" wasn't great he's Bono! I thought it was a sure thing. Best Motion Picture — Foreign Language Compartment No. 6 Drive My Car The Hand of God A Hero Parallel Mothers *Ashamed to say I haven't seen any but from what I've seen PARALLEL MOTHERS and DRIVE MY CAR, especially the latter are the ones who have the best chance at winning Best Foreign Language. While I liked Germany's entry I'M YOUR MAN it really is not awards material.

No matter how great Dan Stevens is.

[daily-millennial]

September 27, 1869:

James Butler Hickok (May 27, 1837- Aug 2, 1876), widely known as the infamous "Wild Bill" of the Old American West, and sheriff of Ellis County, Kansas, responded to a call around 1 a.m. about a band of drunken troublemakers causing a scene at John Bitters' Beer Saloon. These disorderly teamsters, one by the name of Samuel Strawhum, strolled into the saloon that evening exhibiting an acceptable degree of intoxication, as far as Wild West standards are concerned. However, around midnight, the group became violent and destructive. A brawl ensued, and Strawhum and the fellow mischief-makers began smashing chairs, throwing tables, and destroying property. When Wild Bill and his deputy, "Rattlesnake Pete" Lanihan (gotta love Wild West nicknames), arrived to restore order and deal with the rowdy teamsters, Sheriff Hickok asked the not-so-gentle gentlemen to hand over their weapons. Strawhum laughed and drew his firearm, anyway. Acting instantly, Wild Bill shot Strawhum in the head - killing him instantly.

In the 1800s, Hays City operated as a freight and cattle center, but like many Old West towns, gambling was Hays' biggest industry. Hays attracted drifters, soldiers, hunters, cattlemen, and the general riffraff one would expect to find in a town many called "the deadliest place in the West." The people elected the already famous "Wild Bill" as Sheriff of Ellis County on August 23, 1869 for his reputation as a Civil War hero and expert gunfighter. Being quite rough and tumble himself, Hickok seemed fit to lay down the law in a city besieged by drunken violence and petty crime. Hickok was quick to assert his authority as sheriff of Ellis County, and within the first five weeks, he had already killed two men. Despite impressive reputation, residents felt uneasy about his violent and impulsive methods. In just three months, Wild Bill lost re-election to his deputy, Rattlesnake Pete.

However, Wild Bill's brief time as Ellis County Sheriff represents just a blip in his relatively short, but legendary life. Acquainted with such Wild West characters such as Buffalo Bill Cody and Calamity Jane, Hickok holds a distinguished position among American folk heroes. As a lawman, heavy gambler, soldier, actor, scout, and ladies man, Wild Bill was a real Wild West renaissance man. Originally from northern Illinois, Wild Bill traveled throughout the West, making a mark on local legend and local history seemingly every where he went. Like with many infamous characters of the Old West, many of these stories seem too outlandish and exaggerated to be real. Yet, writings from friends and family reveal that he was well-liked by many - and that there is at least some truth to many of these stories.

Libbie Custer, wife of Brevet Major General George Armstrong Custer, described Hickok's appearance in a way that may have left Mr. Custer feeling a bit uncomfortable. After all, there were rumors of an affair. She described Hickok lovingly: "Physically, he was a delight to look upon. Tall, lithe...he rode as if every muscle was perfection...I do not recall anything finer in the way of physical perfection than Wild Bill when he swung himself lightly from his saddle." Libbie wasn't the only one to comment on his striking appearance. He's described as tall and having piercing gray eyes,and long blondish hair that swept past his broad shoulders. A bartender at Carl Mann's Saloon in Deadwood, Dakota Territory stated that, "A more picturesque sight than Hickok on horseback could not be imagined."

Despite his good looks, and despite his sometimes questionable reputation as a gambler and zealous gunfighter, Hickok became highly regarded for this actions during the Civil War. It is generally believed that this is where James Butler Hickok became Wild Bill Hickok, although the reasons why are not known  for certain. During the war, Hickok acted as a spy and detective, and proved to be an expert marksman. Prior to the Civil War, he also worked at a station on the Underground Railroad, helping enslaved men and women make their way to freedom.

However, perhaps what Wild Bill is most well-known for is his duel with Davis Tutt in July of 1865. The duel took place in Springfield, MO and was fought over the same reasons many saloon brawls and duels were fought over in the Wild West: gambling debts and women. Wild Bill lost a gold watch of sentimental value to Tutt in a game of poker, and while Wild Bill accepted defeat somewhat gracefully - asking Tutt at least not to wear it around him - Wild Bill became furious when he saw Tutt wearing it, flashing it about.

What happened next is what many say is the first recorded quick-draw duel in Wild West history. Hickok, standing seventy-five yards away from Tutt, squared his broad shoulders and set those piercing grey eyes on Tutt. From such a distance, Hickok was able to shoot Tutt through the heart. Tutt's bullet missed Hickok entirely. According to the story, Tutt's last words were: "Boys, I'm killed."

It is from this point on where Hickok's celebrity takes off. Journalist George Ward Nichols published an interview in Harper's New Monthly Magazine that tantalized readers with stories of "Wild Bill" and his impressive gunfighting skills. In the interview, Hickok claimed to have killed hundreds in gunfights. However, the leading historian on Wild Bill suggests a more likely claim, backed up by evidence, that Hickok only killed 6-8 people in gunfights. Hickok stood trial on August 3, 1865, but a jury ultimately acquitted, utilizing the unwritten "fair fight" law in his favor.

Hickok continued to use his celebrity to his advantage. He went on to be Deputy Marshal in Abilene, TX - which has earned him a spot on the Texas Trail of Fame. He even joined Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show for three months in 1873. But at 39, this rough and tumble renaissance man was starting to feel the weight of life in the fast lane. His eyes were deteriorating, making him useless as a marksman, and his gambling habits were about to catch up with him.

On August 2, 1876, the beloved celebrity, lawman, and Union veteran was shot in the head at point-blank range by Jack McCall while playing a game of poker. McCall lost severely to Hickok the day prior, and while Hickok offered to at least pay for the man's breakfast, McCall, not much more than a local bum, sought his revenge. Days before Hickok's death, he wrote to his wife, Agnes: "If such should be we never meet again, while firing my last shot, I will gently breathe the name of my wife - Agnes - and with wishes even for my enemies I will make the plunge and try to swim to the shore." The hand Hickok had before he was shot became known as the "dead man's hand:" two black aces and two eights. The fifth card, damaged by McCall's shot, is unknown.

Wild Bill embodied all that was holy (and perhaps unholy) about the Wild West. He was rugged Civil War veteran and aggressive lawman. He was a gambler and a perfect marksman, but he was also a lover and a doting husband. The Wild West still possesses an active part of the American imagination. It continues to inspire films, books, and television, and tantalizes us with stories, often fabricated and romanticized, of cowboys and natives on horseback, of rowdy saloons, and of the vigilantes and explorers who roamed the frontier.

If you're ever in Fort Worth, stop by the Texas Trail of Fame to check out Wild Bill's star, and remember the sheriff, marshal, soldier, scout, and husband who earned his place among the other American folk heroes of the Old West in more ways than one.

[unofferable-fic]

UNOFFERABLE: 20 - DRUNKEN CONFESSIONS

Summary: The unexpected arrival of an injured Midgardian child clinging to life causes a ruckus on Asgard. The princes, Thor and Loki, are somewhat intrigued by this unusual guest, unsure as to how and why she ended up in such a state. What they did not expect, however, was the turn of events her appearance would inevitably cause.

Originally posted by loptrlaufey

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Set Pre-Thor 1

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Inspired by this imagine

Warnings: Language, angst, drinking, drunken Odinsons.

Word Count: 5,682

Previous Chapter     Next Chapter

Playlist: “We Move Lightly” — Dustin O’Halloran, “Colours - Stripped” — Halsey, “I’m Beginning to See the Light” — Ella Fitzgerald, “Introduction II” — David Wenngren

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A/N: Also available on AO3  and FanFiction.net. I love drunk Loki and Thor and I need more of them in my life so here you are.

Loki had royally fucked up.

He was sure of it.

Unable to sleep, he paced throughout the night. He contemplated on more than one occasion going to Ellie’s room to attempt some form of an explanation, but couldn’t rationalise one. What could he tell her? That he didn’t know how to say he loved someone? That he never had before? That wasn’t a lie, and perhaps it would have been a good place to start, but what if he did speak to her only to be turned away? What if Ellie, like so many others in his life, decided he was not worth the time or effort? What if his outburst was the final straw for her? The thought of not having her affection or friendship genuinely made him feel ill, and yet so did the idea of avoiding her altogether and giving up now. Surely he could talk his way out of this. He didn’t earn the name Silver Tongue for nothing! As he cleaned the shattered ceramic plate shards from his floor, he contemplated what to say.

When morning came, he was ready to face her, to explain himself.

I was caught off guard by your admission, he repeated in his head. But I apologise for my handling of the situation. I should not have shouted at you—

The knock on his door came and he cleared his throat. “Come in.”

His frown deepened when Sevda came into view. “Good morning, Prince Loki.”

Standing there in stunned silence, he took a moment to answer. “Eh, good morning, Sevda. Where is my handmaiden?”

“Ellie is feeling poorly this morning, Your Highness,” she explained, already at his wardrobe. “Kirkjabyr fetched me this morning to work in her stead.”

“Poorly?” he repeated, gaze shifting to the wall that separated their chambers. “Where is she?”

“In her room. We already offered to fetch Eir for her, but she declined, explaining that she would feel better after some rest. I’m sure she will feel better in no time, My Prince. Do you wish for me to draw you a bath?”

“That won’t be necessary, Sevda. Just my clothes will do fine.”

“As you wish. The Allmother expects you soon for breakfast.”

He muttered his thanks and dressed once she had left. He paced for a few more moments, already knowing that Ellie’s illness was a farce, an excuse not to be near him. He would be lying if he said the thought of her not wanting to be around him wasn’t upsetting. When he left his rooms, he hesitated in the hall and turned towards Ellie’s chamber door. Kirkjabyr stood on guard, his expression patient as always. Feeling rather impatient himself, Loki quickly approached the guard.

“Your Highness,” Kirkjabyr greeted him with a bow of his head. “It is good to see you.”

“And you, Kirkjabyr,” the Trickster replied. “I wish to see how Ellie fairs, if you would kindly let me in.”

Beneath his brown beard, the guard frowned. “I’m afraid she requested to be left alone, Your Highness. She needs her rest; you know how frail mortals can be.”

Loki’s expression remained blank despite how mad he was at not being permitted to see his lover. Her request at privacy be damned, he needed to speak with her! “I understand, but a few moments will do no harm.”

The large man’s face only showed his own concern as he shook his head. “With all due respect, I think it is best that she is left alone. I know you are just concerned for her wellbeing, but, speaking from my own experience with my daughters, she will be right as rain in no time!”

“Regardless, I wish to see her.”

“My apologies, Your Highness, but she is to have no visitors; by order of the Allmother.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Kirkjabyr nodded. “The Allmother has informed me to let none enter without Ellie’s consent so I’m sorry, but you cannot see her.”

Loki’s gaze flitted from the guard to the door, knowing that Ellie could probably hear everything being said and still chose to keep him out. With a sigh, he regarded the older man, turned on his heel, and left defeated.

* * *

Thor wore his most infuriating grin later that same day. “So, to war?”

Loki didn’t hide the look of displeasure from his face. “It would seem that way…”

It seemed that this day was determined to break him. Everything that could possibly go wrong was doing just that. After breakfast, he and Thor were called to a gathering with the Allfather and Lieutenants of the Einherjar to discuss the Marauders situation in Vanaheim. Odin had finally decided that it was best to answer the realm’s calls of assistance and send in troops. Doing so would hopefully ease some of the ever-present political tension and save lives in the process. A win-win, as Midgardians say. Odin had also decided that his sons would join him. Of course, Thor was always delighted to smash something with that stupid hammer of his, while Loki was less than eager to leave with Ellie not speaking to him. For once, he was not enthusiastic about being chosen by his father when it meant leaving her behind after a fight. Due to depart tomorrow at dawn, he knew that his outburst had truly come back to bite him in his royal arse.

“We will have a splendid time!” Thor boomed, slinging his arm around Loki’s shoulders as they traipsed through the halls. “It has been so long since we went to war together, brother.”

“Wars are not usually described as ‘splendid’, Thor,” Loki replied. “I am nearly positive that no king as referred to a war as ‘splendid’ it the history of the Nine Realms. You know what Father always says about that.”

The eldest Odinson shrugged dismissively. “Well they sound like no fun anyway. That is besides the point; it has been so long since we went to war together! You and I, fighting side by side!”

Loki had to admit that Thor’s eagerness to spend what he considered quality time together was flattering and comforting, but he was still reluctant to leave while on bad terms with Ellie. On any other day, he would probably be happy with his brother’s sentiment.

“You must excuse me, brother,” he explained. “I am not exactly keen to go to war right now.”

“And why not?” Thor asked, completely baffled. “We get to kick arse. Together! It will be great!”

“I suppose…” Loki looked down at his hands, not bothering to hide his pout. He only looked up when a massive hand slapped against his chest, halting him in his tracks.

The God of Thunder stared at him for a long time, face contorted to express his confusion. “What is the matter with you? You have been especially mopey today, more so than usual.”

Loki merely shrugged in response. “I did not sleep very well last night. I am merely tired.”

For once, Thor didn’t look entirely convinced. “If you insist. Alas, I am excited for us to fight alongside each other again! This calls for a celebration.”

“A what?”

“A celebration. One involving enough mead and ale in which we could drown!”

The prospect of drinking until he couldn’t remember his own name sounded appealing to Loki. If there was one sure thing about Thor, it was his ability to get himself and his friends excessively drunk. Usually, Loki would rather deal with a wild bilgesnipe than be around that drunken rabble. But today, on the other hand…

“That’s not a bad idea…”

“Really?” Thor nearly fucking squeaked. “You want to?”

Loki shrugged, trying his best to act casual. “Well, yes. I had no other plans this evening.”

“Excellent!” Thor cheered, and slung his arm back around his sibling’s shoulders as they set off once more. “Come! We will go to the Feast Hall and gather the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif, and Ellie—!”

“No!” Loki shrieked before he could stop himself.

“Uh, why not?” Thor asked as he steered them towards her chambers. “Is this because of what happened the last time? We won’t be in a public tavern this time. We shall be much safer in the—”

Loki hushed him with a wave of the hand. “No, it’s not that. She is currently ill, brother, and bedridden. She will not be coming for any… revelling.”

“Ah, that is simply not acceptable! We leave tomorrow, she must come with us.”

“I have already tried to speak with her,” Loki explained with a sigh. “She will not have it. Kirkjabyr is guarding her as we speak.”

“This sounds ridiculous. I will get her out.”

The God of Mischief smirked at his determined expression as her door and ever-present watch guard came into view. “So confident, brother. Good luck with that.”

“Evidently, your silver tongue failed you this time,” Thor chuckled as they approached Kirkjabyr. “Allow me. Kirkjabyr!”

“Prince Thor,” the guard greeted him with a wide smile from his post. “It is good to see you. And you, Prince Loki.”

“Always a pleasure!” Thor clapped him on his armoured shoulder before gesturing to the door. “I am sure you have been informed that we go to war tomorrow on Vanaheim. We wish to see little Ellie and invite her to the Feast Hall to celebrate.”

“That is a lovely gesture!” Kirkjabyr said, still grinning widely. “But I am afraid Ellie wishes to remain alone so she can gather her strength once more.”

“Ah, she will be fine,” Thor insisted. “Nothing that some mead and good company cannot fix.”

“Unless she herself states that she wishes to join you all, I am afraid you will be drinking without her.”

There was silence between the three of them before they turned to stare expectantly at the imposing door. None of them dared speak as they waited for some response from within. They were met with a resounding stillness, much to Loki’s chagrin. Even if he wasn’t surprised by it, there was still a part of him that hoped she would open the door.

“I think that is your answer, Your Highnesses,” Kirkjabyr mumbled with an awkward grimace. “I hope you enjoy your evening despite her absence.”

Thor frowned as he slowly turned from the door, looking at his brother in surprise. “Umm, thank you. As you were.”

As Thor walked away, he mumbled incoherently under his breath. Loki paid him no mind, hesitating to follow for a brief moment. Wary of Kirkjabyr’s gaze on him, he merely looked at her firmly shut door once more before he turned and followed a dismayed Thor as he left.

* * *

It had been many years since Loki found himself in this situation. And yet, here he was, drunk off his arse and, dare he say, enjoying his time in Thor’s company. He could possibly say that he was enjoying the company of his friends too. Had he gone mad? No, but he had definitely gotten excessively drunk with the goal of forgetting his argument with Ellie and all the feelings he had for her. This was the best solution he could think of. It was also easier to deal with all these people when he was intoxicated beyond belief. If he wasn’t so insistently preoccupied with his worries about Ellie, he would probably be enjoying his time with his brother even more.

“Loki, I must ask,” Thor said at one point in the evening. He leaned over his tankard with a frown. “What has you so down?”

“What are you talking about?” Loki grumbled, struggling to focus his gaze on his brother. Thankfully, the Warriors Three and Sif were too engaged in their own rabble to notice the discussion.

Thor frowned. “I am not stupid. You are indeed enjoying your evening, but when you stop talking, you stare into your drink as though it holds the answers to every question in the Nine Realms. What is the matter?”

It must have been the alcohol and a mix of desperation that encouraged him to speak of what ailed him. He knew that Thor could be a forgetful drunk if he drank in excess, so he hoped that their conversation would not be remembered. He doubted whether he would even receive helpful advice, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“I may have fucked up severely,” Loki grumbled after a long silence. He kept his voice low despite their intoxication, wary of any other hearing their conversation. “And I’m not sure if I can repair the damage.”

Thor chuckled as he downed his drink. “You say this as though this isn’t a frequent occurrence, brother. Your whole thing is mischief.”

“This was not mischief, Thor. And there was no jesting involved.”

“Well then, what did you do?”

He bit his chapped lips. “I hurt someone. Someone very…dear to me.”

“Oh…” Suddenly, realisation appeared on Thor’s drunken face “Oh! Are you talking about a lover? Are you bedding someone I don’t know about?” The look of dismay on Loki’s face answered the question. “Oh, Loki, you scoundrel! Well? Tell me! Who is the lucky person?”

“Who she is is not important,” Loki insisted, drinking the last of his ale. “What matters is what I have done to upset her.”

Thor clapped his hands together as two more tankards were placed in front of them. “Ah, so it is a she! That narrows it down to half of Asgard.”

“Brother—”

“I merely jest, relax! Go on, tell me what you did to upset her.”

Gazing into his new drink, the Trickster hung his head in shame. “She told me she loved me, and I ignored her and shouted at her for telling me how she felt.”

He was met with silence, and looked up to see Thor staring back at him in surprise, hand paused mid air as he was lifting up his full drink to his lips. “You what?”

“Yes.”

“And she loves you? She told you she did?”

“Yes, and I could not even bring myself to look at her.”

“Oh… You were not joking when you said it was serious.”

Loki smiled sadly at him. “This is one of the few times when I am not joking.”

“Have you spoken to her about what happened?” Thor asked, setting his tankard back down in a bid to give Loki his undivided attention.

“No, she…will not speak to me and I am afraid to confront her.”

There was a long pause between them while the rest of the hall bustled with noise. The brothers drunkenly speaking in hushed tones went unnoticed by their friends and the others celebrating around them. They were probably afraid to break whatever spell had befallen the princes — seeing them speak civilly and earnestly was not the most rare occurrence to witness, but no one dared test it by interrupting.

“Why did you not respond to her confession?” Thor asked eventually.

Loki shrugged. “Because I do not know how to do so. I may be called the Silver Tongue, but I am not great at expressing…feelings.”

“Do you love her?” was the simple question Thor posed next, meeting his brother’s gaze. “Because I think that, if you do, this situation could be easily rectified.”

Loki’s fingers clenched around his new tankard as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. With a gulp he spoke, not even needing to consider the truth in his words before he did. “I do. I do love her.”

“Odin’s beard! I am stunned to hear those words leave your mouth! But I am also happy for you, little brother.”

“My feelings do not matter,” Loki grumbled in response. “She most likely never wants to see me again after how I dealt with her confession. If I speak to her, I do not know if I can handle hearing her tell me she wants nothing more to do with me.”

“Loki, if she sees how wonderful you are, and you care about her, then why not give it a chance? I have honestly never found someone who cared about me in that way.” Loki had to hold his tongue, but glanced at Lady Sif nonetheless. “It is a rare thing and you have been lucky to find it. Whoever she is, she must have the patience of the Allmother if she fell for you.”

Loki giggled at that. “I will admit, she is truly something.”

“Then tell her that and stop pussyfooting around the situation. You deserve a bit of happiness, as I’m sure she does too.”

“Thank you,” Loki murmured after a beat of silence. “Speaking with you has helped a lot, surprisingly.”

“That is because I am the big brother and therefore I am smarter.”

Loki rolled his unsteady eyes with a grin. “And there is the Thor I am more familiar with. For a minute there, I thought you were an imposter.”

“Never! No one could ever dare to imitate the mighty Thor, son of Odin, master of relationship advice!”

For the first time in a while, Loki looked at his brother with a fondness that harboured no falsehoods. He wouldn’t admit it aloud right now, but no matter what happened, no matter how many times they fought or disagreed, he loved his brother dearly. “I certainly had not planned on asking you for it, but I am glad I did. Thank you, brother.”

He had not planned, however, on getting so drunk that he had to be carried back to his chambers by that oaf of a brother.

“I can walk, you fool!” he drawled, attempting to unwind his arm from around Thor’s shoulders. “Let me gooooo!”

“What kind of big brother would I be if I left you to find your way to your room by yourself?” Thor explained with a heavy slur, stumbling along himself. “I’ll tell you; the worst kind!”

Loki was seeing stars. Everything was blending around him when Thor — Thor, of all people! — had the gall to cut him off. And now here he was, struggling to walk through the halls of the palace even with his equally drunk sibling’s help.

“I am fiiiine,” Loki whined. “I want to keep drinking.”

“I fear you may lose consciousness if I let you do that. We are just here at your door now.”

“Ugh, you are no fun, brother—”

“Loki?”

At the sound of his name, the pair stumbled around to face whoever had spoken. The sight of Ellie standing in the door to her bedroom caused them both to gasp aloud.

“Ellie!” Loki wheezed, still clinging to Thor. “It’s you!”

“You are alive!” Thor cried, abruptly dropping Loki to the ground so that he could scoop Ellie up into his arms. “I thought you were dead!”

Loki looked up at them with unfocused eyes from his spot on the golden floors. Ellie was baffled and rightly so; the sight of the Odinson brothers intoxicated to this severity in each others company was completely unheard of. “I am fine, Thor! I was just a little sick is all.”

“You dropped me, you oaf!” Loki spoke with difficulty, still unmoving on the floor. “How do you expect me to stand when my legs refuse to work?”

“What’s wrong with your legs?” Ellie hastily asked. As soon as Thor released her, she rushed to Loki’s side. “Are you alright?”

He whined on the floor like a kicked puppy. “Nooooooo. I miss you, darling. I just want to talk to you.”

Her eyes met his, filled with concern and sadness. “Loki…”

The moment was interrupted by Thor as he stumbled over, grabbing one of Loki’s arms. “Ellie! We must assist my brother to his feet!”

Without another word, she helped to pull Loki up. The young prince couldn’t remove his gaze from her. He wanted so desperately to tell her how beautiful she was, and how much joy she brought him, and how when he was drinking with his surprisingly fun drunken brother, all he wanted was her by his side.

“How much have you had t’drink?” she asked him, gently cupping his face as his head lolled about.

“This many,” he replied, outstretching his arms and bursting into uncontrollable giggles.

“No, no, no!” Thor cut in, also laughing away as he stretched his massive arms out. “It was at least thiiiiiis many!”

“Thor and I drank the hall dry! And we had fun! Can you believe it? He is a big lovely idiot.”

“You are too kind, Loki! And you are a greasy charming sap!”

“Right, I think it’s time you went to bed,” Ellie stated, slinging Loki’s limp arm around her shoulder and wrapping her own arm around his waist. “I’ll help you in.”

Without thinking — although the concept of him being able to think completely coherently with the amount of alcohol in his system was utterly ridiculous — Loki pulled her into a tight embrace. “You are so lovely, Ellie. You are too kind to me.”

“Don’t fret, My Prince. You need a good night’s rest.”

“But I need you,” he all but sobbed, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “You would not come out with us tonight and I missed you.”

“It was unacceptable,” Thor declared, evidently missing his brother’s other admissions. “We leave tomorrow for grand battle and you would not even drink with us!”

“I will drink with the pair of you’s upon your victorious return. Now c’mon, Loki. You’re off to bed.”

“But you’re coming too, right? You won’t leave me alone, will you?”

“I’ll do whatever you wish, My Prince,” she replied gently, feigning professionalism for the sake of Thor’s presence.

“Do you need any help with him?” Thor asked, swaying on his own two feet.

Ellie took one look at him before she shook her head. “I can handle him from here, but thank you.”

“As you wish.” He waved them off as he began to awkwardly bound (well, stumble) down the hall. “Goodnight, my friends! I will have more drinks in your honour!”

Loki paid little attention to his fleeing sibling, his gaze firmly fixed on Ellie beside him. He couldn’t help but notice how lovely she was as she just about managed to open his doors, haul him inside, and then shut them afterwards.

“Where is your guard dog?” Loki queried curiously.

“If you’re askin’ where Kirkjabyr is gone, I told him to return to his family for the evenin’. He’ll leave with the Einherjar tomorrow for Vanaheim; the man deserves a night off from babysittin’ me.”

“That was sweet of you. But then again you are very sweet all the time.”

“Alright,” she sighed, tone a little sharper now that they were alone. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“But I do not want to sleep,” he insisted as she gently sat him down on the edge of his bed. The softness of the surface threw him off for a moment before he steadied himself to meet her eyes again. “I wish to speak with you, darling.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she murmured and turned to his wardrobe. “Given the amount of alcohol you probably consumed down there. The smell is particularly strong, y’know.”

“I had not meant to get this inebriated,” he admitted, looking at her guiltily as she moved about. “But I wanted to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“How upset you were.” He hesitated as she turned to look back at him. “And your face when I shouted at you.”

There was a tense moment between them while he waited for a response, but she merely looked at the floor and quickly grabbed some of his sleeping clothes. “Here.” She approached the bed and set the garments down next to him “Change into these.”

Even in his state, Loki knew that she was struggling with this situation as much as he was. He didn’t know how to approach it in the right way, even if he desperately wished he could.

As an idea came to mind, he spoke up. “Play that Midgardian music of yours.”

With a surprised expression, she eyed the vinyl player she left behind last night, forgotten after their clash. “Music? At this hour?”

He hiccuped and pointed flippantly to the machine, one eye closed as he tried to focus his vision without much success. “I will change my clothes for you if you merely put on some music for me.”

“If you insist.” She quickly approached the player and noticed the small stack of records he took from her room. “Any specific requests, My Prince?”

“Eh, the one… The one sung by that woman. She talks about…seeing light. Fitz-something? Is that her name?”

“Well, you’re half right,” he heard her mutter under her breath and set the specific record down on the player. He watched in fascination as she carefully placed the needle down on its slowly spinning surface. Soon after, upbeat piano filled his chambers.

His head began to slowly bop back and forth and he did his best to sing some of the words:

“I never cared much for moonlit skies,

I never wink back at fireflies,

But now that the stars are in your eyes,

I'm beginning to see the light.”

“There’s your music,” Ellie said, approaching his seated figure again. “Change, please.”

With an obedient nod, Loki got to work. As it turned out, the many buttons and laces that his clothes required be undone were difficult to manage when the room was spinning. Seeing him struggle with his boots and quietly snickering about the fact that he was a god who couldn’t take off his shoes right now — drunk Loki found this particularly hilarious — she began to assist him. He watched her sadly as she carefully put away each piece of clothing she helped him remove until he was sitting there in his underwear and undershirt. He lifted the shirt above his head and, upon successfully removing it, fell backwards across his duvet. He still sang along with the music in a terribly slurry voice:

“I never went in for afterglow,

Or candlelight on the mistletoe,

But now when you turn the lamp down low,

I'm beginning to see the light.”

“Have I ever told you,” he began, still sprawled out on his bed. “That I understand this song now?”

“C’mon,” Ellie coxed him softly, pointing to his sleeping clothes. “Put those on. And no, you haven’t.”

“Well I do.” He set his gaze on her form, standing in front of him expectantly. “I understand when she says she has seen the light.”

Unimpressed, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” he insisted and tried to sit up but struggled on his stupidly sinky bed. “By the Norns! This duvet is a deathtrap!”

“Jesus, Loki…” Ellie quickly grasped one of his flailing arms and pulled him up with a grunt.

With her assistance, he steadied himself in a seated position once again, but still held on to her hand. He grasped it in both of his, stroking his fingers over her soft skin with a sullen expression. She said nothing and didn’t pull away, so he took it as a sign to go on. Before he knew what was happening, honest words spilled from his mouth. “Sometimes, despite my nickname, I struggle to express how I feel when it is important. I could lie my way out of anything, but when it comes to speaking about genuine feelings, I am a failure. But I think with some liquid courage and this helpful Midgardian tune, I might be able to try.”

She gave his hands a soft squeeze. “Loki, you’ve had a lot to drink; I don’t think we should talk ’bout this right now.”

“Please,” he implored, finally looking up into her eyes in earnest. How he loved her eyes… They brought him comfort he felt he didn’t deserve. “I may be intoxicated, but it does not mean that my words are untrue. I would not lie to you, my darling girl. I want to talk about this. I need to tell you how I feel about you before I lose my courage.

“Ellie, I am so sorry for how I spoke to you yesterday. You did not deserve any of my ill-treatment for merely stating your feelings. You should be able to talk to me about anything, but I…but I was a coward because, truth be told, I have never heard someone say that they love me, not in that way. Nor have I felt that way for someone else. And it did not matter that I realised my feelings for you some time ago — I did not know how to say them aloud. I was…afraid. So I pushed you away instead of telling you that…that I-I, that I fell for you long ago, Ellie, and that I have not felt this way about someone before you, and that I have fallen in love with you because you are, to me, the most beautiful and precious thing in the Nine Realms. I cannot imagine not having you by my side. Today was deplorable because I remembered what it was like to not have you in my company. You are my lover as well as my friend, and I could not bear to be without you. I am so sorry for the pain that I caused you, and I will apologise for it a hundred times over if that is what it will take for you to forgive me. And, if you are unsure as to whether you can trust my admission, I will tell you that I love you everyday until I no longer possess the ability to speak. Please forgive me, love. Please believe me when I say I love you.”

When Ellie’s blue eyes began to well and her lips trembled, Loki’s shoulders dropped in resignation. Without any hesitation, he pulled her in to straddle his lap and heaved a sigh as he wrapped her up in his arms. Feeling her embracing him in response as a sob shook her body nearly sent him over the edge.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered, clutching her like she might disappear. “Please don’t cry. I cannot bear to upset you further.”

“I love you, Loki,” she wept, her voice muffled as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry I ignored you. I shouldn’t’ve done that. I should’ve just talked to you ’bout everythin’ that happened.”

“You did nothing wrong,” he insisted and rocked her in his arms. “I was at fault, so do not apologise.”

“Can we please promise to talk to each other about our fears? If we avoid them, we can’t solve them. I promise I’ll try to do so.”

“As will I. I have much to learn from you, and I promise to do it as best I can.”

He could feel her tears wetting the bare skin of his shoulder and his gut twisted for a multitude of reasons. In that moment, Loki could not contain all of his emotions. He was joyous to hear Ellie say she loved him, he was relieved knowing that she now heard how he felt about her, but he was also hurt to see her so perturbed. He never wanted to be the cause of this sadness ever again. He simply would not. Without thinking, he lay back on the bed, still clutching her body in his arms and ushering them so that their heads lay against his pillows, his sleeping clothes on the duvet long forgotten. They remained there in silence for a long time, simply enjoying each other’s presence and the comfort of finally knowing where they stood. The situation had sobered him up considerably, but he waited until her crying slowed before he spoke again.

“Sleep here with me tonight,” he all but begged, lightly stroking her hair. “Please.”

“No need to say please,” she hushed him, cupping his cheek as her own tears ceased falling. “I couldn’t leave now if I tried. Just let me get outta these clothes.”

He nodded and slowly released her from his firm hold. He watched from his spot on the bed as she hurriedly shrugged off her dress until she was only in her undergarments. Rushing across the room, she shut off the record player, then grabbed two glasses of water which she set down on the drawer next to his bed.

“You’ll need those in the mornin’,” she explained and climbed on to the bed. “For the headache.”

He chuckled and pushed back the covers. “I will have no such thing.”

“Your head will be hoppin’ tomorrow.”

“My head has never felt this calm and sure before.” Safely under the duvet, he pulled her into his arms. “If I have a headache in the morning then so be it; I deserve it after the way I treated you.”

“No more ill feelin’s,” Ellie stated, languidly cuddling into him. “We’re okay.”

He kissed the top of her head in the dim light. “We are?”

“Of course. You’re not the only one who can’t bear the thought of not bein’ together.”

Seeing no reason to put it off any longer, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her wet lips, the happiness inside him insisting that he do so. The relief that came with her kissing him back nearly had his eyes welling up all over again. He could probably blame his unusual outburst of emotion on the alcohol, or the lack of sleep he had the night before, but Loki knew that the cause of his ardour was a young Midgardian woman that was kind and reasonable enough to listen to his pleas and apologies.

That night, they would hold each other like their lives depended on it. And yet, he was quickly realising that his actually did. She had become everything.

With a wave of his hand and some simple magic, Loki extinguished the bedroom lights and slept soundly in the comfort of Ellie’s secure embrace.

Taglist: @jonsaiscomiing @wrappedinlokisarms @unseelie1963 @talinalani @fightmelight @spookass @myinnerkemono

[buried-stars]

bouquet of clumsy words

Written for Ellie ( @ timetravelyou on twitter) for the @lovelivesecretsanta2017 !

Pairings: Kotori/Maki, background Nozomi/Eli

Characters: Maki, Kotori, Umi, Eli, Nozomi, Muse Ensemble

Happy Holidays! I hope this is enjoyable!

Apparently, having Muse partake in a ‘Secret Santa’ gift exchange was Honoka’s latest brilliant idea. Maki didn’t see the appeal of the event, but she was hardly going to pass up in front of everyone, especially considering that everyone else seemed to be going along with the idea.

She dug into the hat being passed around the table, selecting the first slip of paper that her fingers brushed, then handed the remaining names off to Hanayo, who sat to her right.

Maki opened the folded paper with no reservations. She had a generalized idea of what she could get most of her friends, and this shouldn’t have been any different.

Unfortunately, fate - not that she believed in it - seemed to have something else in mind for her, as she stared down at the messily scrawled kanji that spelt out Minami Kotori.

She folded the paper back up and tucked it into her pocket. Kotori was one of the few that she didn't spend too much time with.

Maki glanced across the table, attempting to observe her senior without drawing attention to herself. She was sitting right between Nico and Honoka and seemed to be very focused on the name that she had drawn.

Eli clapped her hands and Maki looked up, hoping she didn't seem too surprised. The blonde said, “Now that we've handed out the names, I think we should move on to practice. It's supposed to snow tonight, and I don't want us to be out there when it begins.”

Silently, Maki twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Practice, a new composition to work on, and Kotori’s present. This was going to be harder than she thought.

-

Practice finished up just as the first flakes of snow began to fall. Maki repressed a shiver and tucked her hands into her pockets.

Honoka and Rin, who had been lying on the ground due to exhaustion, had leapt to their feet to catch snow on their tongues.

Maki snuck a glance at Kotori, then decided to make her first move while everyone was still a little distracted by the change in weather.

“Are you busy, Kotori?” Maki asked, hoping she didn't look too interested.

Kotori raised her head, “Not obscenely. Is something wrong, Maki-chan?”

Maki glanced into the distance, “No. I'm working on a new song, and I wanted to get a second opinion as to how it's coming along.”

Kotori blinked, “Oh! But if that's the case, why don't you ask Umi-chan? She's the lyricist, so I think she'd know better than me.”

Damn.

Trying to dodge Kotori’s curveball, Maki said, “I know, but I want a different look into it. It's fine if you're not able to, it's not like I-”

Kotori held up her hands, “I can! I just need to pick up some fabrics from downstairs. Do you want me to meet you in the music room?”

“Sure, that works,” Maki said, “I'll see you.”

Kotori waved and then half walked half jogged back into the school. Maki watched her go for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“Hmm? Why's someone getting so buddy buddy with Kotori-chan all of a sudden?”

Maki spun around, her face flushed, to see Rin and a shit eating grin. She scowled, “I'm composing something. It's nothing to start a rumour over.”

Rin giggled, but seemed to take the hint and called out, “Kayo-chin! C’mon, I wanna make a snowman!”

“C-Coming!” Hanayo replied, before turning back to Nico whom she was talking to prior.

Maki quickly spun around and scurried back inside of the school before anyone else could pester her.

It wasn’t far to the music room, and with the speed she ran at, Maki reached it with no problems. The piano sat just inside the doors as if it was brooding.

Maki sat down on the cushioned bench and took out the music sheets for her new composition. She hadn’t been lying about that, at the very least.

Her fingers stroked the keys silently for a moment. Maki straightened her back and began to play, the soft melody filling the room as she hummed to herself.

A few minutes passed. Maki entered the last verse of the currently unnamed song when the door slid open to reveal an out of breath Kotori.

“You made it,” Maki commented, halting her playing.

Kotori held up her hands, “Oh, don’t stop because of me! Here, I’ll come and sit down, okay?”

Maki twirled a lone ringlet as she waited for Kotori to put down her bag and come join her. Once the taller girl was next to her, Maki began to play again from the beginning.

Kotori swayed back and forth as she played. At first, Maki was slightly annoyed, but after a while, the motion was endearing, and almost cute.

Weird.

When she finished, Maki turned to her and asked, “So? What do you think?”

Kotori clasped her hands, “I love it! You have a real talent with music, Maki-chan. I don’t know if I can offer more constructive feedback, but that was truly stunning.”

Maki blinked, “I appreciate it. Thank you for taking time to come and listen.”

“I’m really glad you invited me!” Kotori chirped, “But I need to get home now. I have important things to do for school, and for our gift exchange! You should work on yours too!”

“I will,” Maki promised, shifting awkwardly on the piano bench.

Kotori got to her feet and grabbed her bag, then waved to Maki one last time before rushing out the door. Maki waved back at her, her hand lingering in the air long after the second year was gone.

Trust that girl to somehow make the issue even more difficult.

-

Maki arrived at school extra early the next morning. She had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning trying to think up a good gift for Kotori, but her ideas kept falling flat.

She hovered outside of the second year’s classroom, hoping with all her might that Kotori wouldn’t be the first to arrive.

Lady Luck blessed her, for once, because the first of her upperclassman to approach the room that she recognized was Umi.

“Oh, Maki,” Umi said, “I’m glad to see you. I have a question to ask, if you can spare a moment.”

Maki blinked, “I suppose. What’s the matter?”

Umi held up a piece of paper that had Hanayo Koizumi written in ink on it, “You’re good friends with her, correct? I was wondering if you could offer some advice as to what to buy for her. I would ask Rin… but that girl cannot keep a secret.”

“Tell me about it,” Maki grumbled, “Er, Hanayo has an affinity for other idol groups. I’m sure she’d be delighted to receive any merchandise of, say, A-RISE.”

Umi nodded, “Thank you. I’ll have to spend some time downtown, I suppose.”

Maki said, “Before you go, I have a question. ...What would Kotori want, do you think?”

Umi looked upwards thoughtfully, “Kotori prefers practical gifts. I’m sure she would like whatever you gave to her, but the less frivolous, the better.”

“I see…” Maki murmured, glancing at the ground, “Thank you for your help. I’ll see you at practice, Umi.”

“Likewise,” the blue haired girl responded, before entering her classroom.

-

During the noon hour, Maki poked her head into the Student Council room. Eli and Nozomi were sitting inside, looking over what seemed to be paperwork.

“Excuse me,” Maki said, clearing her throat.

Eli looked up. At the sight of her, she attempted to remove her hand from her girlfriend’s grip, but Nozomi held tight, a devilish smile playing on her lips.

“How can we help you?” Eli asked, only slightly exasperated.

Maki brushed some hair off of her shoulder, “I wanted to ask for some advice about the exchange. If you have a moment, that is.”

Eli said, “Sure thing. I don’t know how much help we can be, though. Who are you getting a present for?”

“Kotori,” Maki said, reaching for her hair and twirling it for a moment.

Nozomi said, “Why don’t you try asking Umi-chan? She’d probably be of more help than us.”

Maki scowled, “I did. But I thought a second opinion might be useful.”

Eli thought for a moment, “Mm… Well, Nozomi is right, Umi is your best resource… Though Honoka and Hanayo may be of help too.”

“I understand that,” Maki gritted her teeth, “I just… Never mind. I’ll leave now.”

Eli held out her arm, “Please wait. I don’t know how useful this information will be to you, but Kotori-chan adores cute animals. I’m sure you’ve seen how she acts around the alpacas.”

Maki bowed her head, “Mm, I see. Thank you very much.”

A practical gift, possibly relating to animals. Maki was in way over her head.

-

The gift she had picked out could have been better if she had more time. Or more information. Or a better understanding of Kotori Minami herself.

She was enigmatic in a way that it seemed normal. Kotori was caring, more caring than any human has the right to be. She was the most generous person Maki knew, unnecessarily giving and treating everyone with an unadulterated kindness.

And it was enough to shock Maki right down to her core.

-

Maki couldn’t take her gaze off of the grey haired second year as the gifts went around in the circle. The brand new expensive piano books - courtesy of Hanayo - sat to her left, scarcely touched. She could brush it off as a little too much excitement for everyone else, but who would believe her? Maki didn’t even believe herself.

Hanayo unwrapped A-RISE merchandise from Umi and started crying from happiness. Umi in turn received a hand carved archery bow from a beaming Nozomi, while the third year herself was gifted a new tarot card deck from Eli.

Maki tapped her fingers on the floor. She desperately wanted to see Kotori’s reaction to her gift, but at the same time, was terrified to.

Eli seemed to choke up at the ballet costume from Nico, who couldn’t manage to look Honoka in the eyes as she thanked the ginger for the ‘Complete and Uncut Idol History DVD Box Set.’ From Rin, Honoka received a box of what looked to be homemade candy, to her delight. And Rin was the proud new owner of a winter cloak and gloves, courtesy of Kotori.

Practicality. Maki really could see it now.

Her eyes stayed glued to Kotori as her nimble fingers - so perfect for sewing, they must have been - unwrapped the carefully folded and taped wrapping paper.

“Oh!” Kotori’s eyes lit up, a squeak flying out of her lips. She ran her hand along the soft swath of fabric, “Is… this vicuña wool? Maki-chan, where did you even find this?”

Maki looked away, feeling her face heat up, “It… was difficult. But I wanted to get something that you would both like and be able to use.”

Kotori beamed, “I love it! Thank you so much! You’ve absolutely made my Christmas!”

There was no doubt now - judging by Nico’s snorts - Maki was as red as she felt.

-

The rest of Muse was busy milling around Nico’s house, but Kotori had stepped away from the party, and was staring out the window at the moon. Maki approached her carefully, having another box pressed up against her back.

“Is now a bad time?” she asked.

Kotori jumped and spun around, “Oh! Hi, Maki-chan! No, you just startled me a little. What is it?”

Maki took a deep breath, “I… have something for you.”

Kotori blinked, “Huh? I love the wool you got for me. I don’t know yet what I’ll do with it, since it’s so expensive but-“

Maki thrust the box out before she could change her mind, “Something else.”

Kotori took it from her hands and carefully pulled the top off. Her eyes instantly went round as discs.

“Do you like-“

Kotori threw her arms around Maki and hugged her, “I love it! Maki-chan, you didn’t have to, but… I… Ah!”

Maki whispered, “Let me help you with it, then.”

Kotori released her grip and held out her wrist. Maki carefully clasped the silver charm bracelet around, ensuring that the alpaca charm was visible.

“It’s perfect,” Kotori murmured, “And… that reminds me. I have a gift for you too.”

Maki blinked, “You do?”

Kotori pointed upwards to a sprig of mistletoe that hung suspended from the top of the window frame, then kissed Maki ever so sweetly on the lips.

Sure, in three and a half seconds, Honoka would walk in and lose her mind, but now? Now was the best Christmas memory that Maki would ever have.

[kateinvogue]

Rest Your Bones || Sam + Kate

Tagging: @kateinvogue & @goldenglovesam

Location:  224 Thomson St.

Date: March 13th, 2018

Summary: Sam and Kate spend the morning after Meme Monday having a serious conversation. 

Notes:  This para is complete.

Sam

Sam woke up to a mix of emotions, if she were being honest.  Last night had been another doozy, between Blair mistakenly sending her a naked photo and the reveal of Ellie and Blair having kissed.  Kate, understandably, had been upset and Sam hadn’t really known how to help other than offer her company.  Sure, they had spent most of Sunday together, but why not extend it.  As the sun started to shine through her window, Sam wrapped her arm around Kate’s waist and pulled her close.  She needed to get up to at least help Mae get ready for the day and to let Quinn know what was happening, but for now she was content just laying there.March 13, 2018

Kate

Whether it was the morning sun or the feeling of Sam's arms snug around her that woke her up, Kate wasn't sure. Her head pounded from the hours spent crying the night before, and she was certain her eyes would be puffy all day no matter how many cold masks she tried. She relaxed into the embrace with a sigh, giving voice to the thoughts that she had been too drained to speak last night. "It would be unfair to you if I said I was over Blair- I think last night alone proves that I've got a lot of work to do."

Sam

Sam's thumb rubbed softly against Kate's back as they both woke up.  And it wasn't exactly what she expected their first words to be about, but hey, Sam was constantly being surprised.  "I understand, you know I do.  And I know that Blair isn't over you, either.  Obviously, that's half of the issue, right?  That I ... swooped in or something?"  She closed her eyes, finally vocalizing things she had really only said via text.

Kate

Kate knew from the way Sam's body stiffened for a second that she had caught her by surprise. Her stomach tossed guiltily as she turned the response in her mind, grasping for anything that felt right. "From what I've gathered that's how she feels. Honestly, I was blind to the fact that she actually wanted to get back together until last week. Like, I knew that I wasn't over her, but I thought enough time had passed that going on a date with you would be okay. I'm just as much to blame." Carefully she rolled over so that she was facing Sam.

Sam

Even with the subject matter, Sam smiled as they faced each other.  "Neither of us can be responsible when she didn't tell us.  I don't know what kinds of conversations you've had with her, but she gave me every indication that this was okay.  That I was okay in asking you out."  Sam had a reasonable amount of guilt for the turmoil she had caused, but she still didn't regret it.  "I'm still going to try to gain back that friendship, but I want this, too.  I hope you're okay with that."

Kate

Kate smiled in return and felt some of the tension ease off her shoulders. "I hate to do the she said/she said thing, but Blair did text me good luck the night of our date. I don't know how she expected either one of us to read into it. For what it's worth, I wouldn't change my decision. I'm happy with you." She ducked her head shyly, her fingers worrying at the edge of the blanket. "I would never stop you from being friends with her."

Sam

"See?" Sam tucked a piece of Kate's hair behind her ear.  "We both tried and thought we were in the clear.  Now we're just...dealing with the consequences."  She tried to laugh without sounding bitter.  "I'm happy with you, too."  Sam grinned, fingers lingering along Kate's jaw.  "And good, I'm glad we have that out in the open."  This was new to her, being so open about feelings with the girl she was dating, even having feelings this strong.  Sounds of life were coming from the living room and Sam let out a soft groan.  "Let me go help Quinn, and I'll come back with some coffee?"

Kate

"Honestly, me too. It already feels like a huge weight off of me. And coffee would be much appreciated," Kate replied, knowing full well that only a concoction of  that and ibuprofen would do the trick of getting  her out of bed. The blanket was still warm from where Sam was laying and Kate breathed in the lingering smell of her shampoo. Despite everything that had gone down in the past 12 hours she was feeling remarkably calm, and she knew that a big part of that had to do with Sam. Kate pulled herself into a sitting position and pulled her wild hair into a messy bun while she waited for Sam to return.

Sam

Sam gave her a quick kiss before getting out of the bed, dodging any knowing looks from Quinn.  "Morning, ladies." She grinned, helping Mae with her breakfast and making both the cups of coffee.  "I'm going to take a mental health day today," she explained to Quinn.  Soon enough, the Fabrays were heading out for the day and Sam made her way back to the bedroom.  "Here we go!" She smiled, gingerly crossing her legs as she sat down.  "The day is ours to do with as we please."

Kate

Kate hummed a note of satisfaction as she grabbed the cup and took a sip, feeling more alive already. She cupped the mug between her hands, cautious not to let it spill over onto the bed. "I think I'm still trying to convince myself that you actually took a day off with me. We've never had an entire day together." The idea filled her with delight as she contemplated all of the ways they could spend it. A tumblr alert lit up her phone, drawing her attention back to the topic at hand. "You've been completely open and honest with me, so I'd like to do the same without you finding out through some meme. The only other friends I've been involved with are Blair and Ellie. Ellie and I have only kissed a couple of times, and obviously Blair was a serious relationship. I promise there aren't any others hiding in my baggage."

Sam

Smiling, Sam took a drink of her own coffee and relaxed against the headboard.  "Oh come on, I think we both needed a day where we didn't have to face the world.  Work stress on top of social stress is just the worst." She nodded, as if she had made some sage connection.  Kate's phone lit up and Sam was reminded again of how they got to here anyway.  "Well thank you, for telling me.  And even if I've said it online, I'm gonna tell you here that you and Quinn are the only girl's I've been with, but I've kissed Brittany and Aria.  I think Aria and I were just a little drunk, and we both realized we were meant to just be platonic soulmates.  Britt and I just hung out a little, but she's not really a relationship girl."  She didn't even realize she had been nervous of Kate's answer, but now that she knew, she was glad.  And her hurt made a lot more sense, too.

Kate

Kate listened carefully, letting out a breath she wasn't aware of holding when Sam came to the end of the list. She took another sip of her coffee, letting the warmth wash over her. "Is it ridiculous that I found this conversation more comforting than anything? I honestly can't remember the last time someone was this open with me..." It was hard for Kate to believe that they had only been dating for about a month. If the feelings fluttering around in her chest were any indication, she was falling hard.

Sam

Sam shook her head, stretching her legs out now.  "Not at all, Kate.  I just think that keeping things in leads to more bad things than good.  Personally, my face breaks out like crazy when I get too stress, no matter what causes it."  She joked a little, nudging her knee against Kate's.  "So, if you wanted, we can just chill out, have some brunch here and watch some TV.  I did want to pop by ACup tonight, maybe sing something for Open Mic?  Unless you had other plans..."

Kate

"So you're saying that if you start having a massive break out I should call in that favor I've got with Dr. Phil?" Kate teased as she carefully set her coffee down on a nearby nightstand and scooted herself closer to her girlfriend. "I think all of those things sound fantastic,.but perhaps I can suggest a small change of plans? Like some quality time together because I just can't get enough of you." She lifted her gaze to meet Sam's briefly before ducking down to leave a trail of kisses along her neck.

Sam

Laughing, Sam mirrored Kate's movement and let her arms rest around waist.  "That is a change of plans I can absolutely agree to."  She let out a soft sigh as Kate's lips dusted against her skin, something that she was finding more and more natural.  "Not that this was my initial plan." A small laugh came out.  After everything that had happened, Sam was glad they were easily able to get back to something resembling a normal encounter between them.  This was what she had planned, more or less, when she had invited Kate over: to clear the air, to comfort Kate, and to spend as much time as possible with her girlfriend.

[shimanosimp]

Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties is a 2006 American-British family comedy film directed by Tim Hill and written by Joel Cohen and Alec Sokolow. It is the sequel to the 2004 film Garfield: The Movie. The film stars Breckin Meyer, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Billy Connolly, Ian Abercrombie, Roger Rees, Lucy Davis, Oliver Muirhead, Bill Murray, Tim Curry, Bob Hoskins, Rhys Ifans, Vinnie Jones, Joe Pasquale, Richard E. Grant, Jane Leeves and Roscoe Lee Browne. This film was produced by Davis Entertainment Company for 20th Century Fox, and was released in United States on June 16, 2006. A video game, Garfield 2, was developed by The Game Factory. The film earned $141.7 million.

Contents

 [

hide

]

1Plot

2Cast

3Reception

4Home video

5Awards

6See also

7References

8External links

2.1Voice cast

3.1Critical response

3.2Box office

Plot[edit]

Jon Arbuckle (played by Breckin Meyer) plans to propose to his girlfriend Dr. Liz Wilson (played by Jennifer Love Hewitt), who is going on a business trip to London. Jon follows her to the United Kingdom as a surprise; After escaping from the kennel, Garfield(voiced by Bill Murray) and Odie sneak into Jon's luggage and join him on the road trip. Garfield and Odie break out of the hotel room due to boredom, then get lost.

Meanwhile, at Carlyle Castle in the British countryside, the late Lady Eleanor's will is read. She leaves all of Carlyle Castle to Prince XII (voiced by Tim Curry), her beloved cat who looks just like Garfield. This enrages the Lady's nephew, Lord Dargis (played by Billy Connolly), who will now only get the grand estate once Prince is out of the picture. Lord Dargis traps Prince in a picnic basket and throws him into the river.

Garfield inadvertently switches places with Prince: Jon finds Prince climbing out of a drain and takes him to the hotel, while Prince's butler Smithee finds Garfield in the street and takes him to Carlyle Castle.

In the grand estate Garfield is residing in, he receives the royal treatment, including a butler and a team of four-legged servants and followers. Garfield teaches his animal friends how to make lasagna, while Prince learns to adapt to a more humble setting, while in Jon's company. Lord Dargis sees Garfield and thinks Prince has come back - if the lawyers see Prince/Garfield they will not sign the estate over to Dargis, who secretly wants to destroy the barnyand and kill the animals to build a country spa. Dargis makes many attempts to kill Garfield, one involving a unmerciful but dim-witted Rottweiler, Rommel (voiced by Vinnie Jones).

Eventually Garfield and Prince meet each other for the first time (spoofing the Marx brothers' mirror gag). Jon, with the help of Odie, discovers the mix-up and goes to the castle, which coincidentally Liz is visiting.

Garfield and Prince taunt Dargis, whose plan is exposed, and are seen by the lawyers. Dargis threatens everyone if they don't sign the papers to him, taking Liz hostage. Garfield, Prince, Odie and Jon save the day, Smithee alerts the authorities, and Dargis is arrested. Garfield, who had been trying to stop Jon from proposing to Liz, has a change of heart: He helps Jon in proposing, and she accepts.

Cast[edit]

Breckin Meyer as Jon Arbuckle, the owner of Garfield and Odie

Jennifer Love Hewitt as Dr. Liz Wilson

Billy Connolly as Lord Dargis

Ian Abercrombie as Smithee

Roger Rees as Mr. Hobbs

Lucy Davis as Ms. Abby Westminister

Jane Carr as Mrs. Whitney

Oliver Muirhead as Mr. Greene

Voice cast[

edit

]

Bill Murray as Garfield

Tim Curry as Prince XII, a British cat who looks like Garfield

Bob Hoskins as Winston

Rhys Ifans as McBunny

Vinnie Jones as Rommel

Jim Piddock as Bolero

Joe Pasquale as Claudius

Greg Ellis as Nigel

Richard E. Grant as Preston

Jane Leeves as Eenie

Jane Horrocks as Meenie

Roscoe Lee Browne as the Narrator

Reception[edit]

Critical response[

edit

]

Rotten Tomatoes, a review aggregator, reports that 11% of 73 surveyed critics gave the film a positive review; the average rating is 3.5/10. The site's critical consensus reads, "Strictly for (very) little kids, A Tale of Two Kitties features skilled voice actors but a plot that holds little interest."[4] On Metacritic, the film has a score of 37 out of 100 based on 20 critics, indicating "generally unfavorable reviews".[5] Audiences polled by CinemaScore gave the film an average grade of "B+" on an A+ to F scale, the same grade earned by its predecessor.[6]

Joe Leydon of Variety gave the film a positive review, saying "Good kitty! Superior in every way to its underwhelming predecessor, Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties is a genuinely clever kidpic that should delight moppets, please parents -- and maybe tickle a few tweens."[7] Janice Page of The Boston Globe gave the film one and a half stars out of four, saying "You'll only be attracted to Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties if you're very young, you're very easily entertained, or you just can't get enough of Jim Davis's lasagna-scarfing cartoon cat."[8] Roger Ebert gave the film three out of four stars, saying "Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties is actually funnier and more charming than the first film."[9] Elizabeth Weitzman of New York Daily News gave the film one and a half stars out of four, saying "Connolly, bless him, throws himself heartily into the task of acting opposite a computer-generated cat given to bad puns and flatulence. Everyone else, however, looks mortified, and can you blame them?"[10] Peter Hartlaub of the San Francisco Chronicle gave the film one out of four stars, saying "The best thing that can be said about Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties is that the movie isn't quite as bad as its name."[11] Nathan Rabin of The A.V. Club gave the film a C, saying "Two Kitties marks a considerable improvement over its predecessor. It's faster paced and the filmmakers wisely shift the focus away from bland owner Breckin Meyer and onto a menagerie of chattering animals. After a dreadful first entry, Two Kitties elevates the Garfield series almost to the level of mediocrity."[12] Claudia Puig of USA Today gave the film one and a half stars out of four, saying "It comes off like a coughed-up furball: a wan rehash with too many elements of the hard-to-swallow 2004 original."[13]

Box office[

edit

]

Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties grossed $28.4 million in North America, and $113.3 million in other countries, for a worldwide total of $141.7 million.[3] The film opened to number seven in its first weekend, grossing $7.3 million.[14] According to 20th Century Fox, the studio was aware that the film would not make as much as the first, and only made it based on the worldwide success of the first film.[15]

Home video[edit]

The film was released on DVD on October 10, 2006. The DVD includes a "Drawing with Jim Davis" featurette and two games: Garfield's Maze, and Odie's Photo Album. It also includes a music video, trailers, and footage not seen in theaters.[16]

Awards[edit]

The film was nominated for two Golden Raspberry Awards in 2006, one in the category "Worst Prequel or Sequel", and one in the category "Worst Excuse for Family Entertainment", but lost to Basic Instinct 2 and RV, respectively.[17]

[boogsbear99]

The Demon and the Princess Part 1

~Sorry if this part seemed rushed, i wrote it for English and the limit was 10 pages. Enjoy!~ The soft sound of an engine whirred along the vacant street. A figure emerged from the shadows as his sharp cane clacked against the cobblestone floor. His auburn hair covered most of his eyes, yet you would never believe what was beneath the surface of his thick bangs. The eyes  of a seeker. The eyes of a killer. One swift move to catch him, he’d dodge twice as fast, attack ten times as hard. His name was Alnon, clever as he was reckless;he was a lonesome mercenary with a demon soul. His so called appearance wasn’t his per say. Just last week a baker was walking alone, one swift grab of the collar and he had inhabited his vessel for his own. It was a routine, such as why he was ominously standing all alone on a foggy Halloween Eve. Just as he took a puff of his cigar, a hulking figure with slick black hair and broad shoulders walked over to him gallantly. He didn’t look all that menacing, charming even. Though, Alnon knew his intentions were less than friendly. “About time you showed up, I was beginning to think I was duped into workin’ with ya~” Alnon sneered before the man's laugh boomed. “Oh, calm down, I wouldn’t leave such a honorable employee out in the cold for just an evening stroll.” Alnon scoffs at that. He can imagine plenty of times where Elias has left him when an order or mission got too out of hand though he respected that. Alnon was loyal, but he too would hit and run if a situation threatened his life. However, it’d be pretty easy to piss him off if a partner just flat out flaked on him. He snuffs his cigar among the wall before he adjusts his hat. “Grand. Because if it’s anything like the Chyzowski incident, I’ll neck you~” He strokes his neck with his gloved hand. Elias flicked his hand off. “So you know what you have to do, right? I just don’t want any hassles when you go through with this. Remember, we need to be agile--” “God damn, boss, this ain’t my first roadshow. I know what I’m getting myself into. The objective is simple: get the weasels little tyke, hold em up for ransom, and then we sell the little one in spite of him forsaking’ us. Easy peasy!” He interrupted. Elias growls before grabbing his collar. “You got quite a mouth on you, Alnon. You should be careful not to back talk me. Learn your place.” He shoves him to the ground. Al groaned and swiftly got up.     “Quite the temper on you. Now, listen, the mansion is a little ways down the street. She usually plays under a willow tree right next to her house. If we play are cards right, this could turn out in our favor.” “And we are for certain it will go smoothly?~” “Very. I always get the job done regardless. I don’t know why i need an interrogation.” He shrugs before walking away from him. “You better do it right this time! Don’t mozy on with this mission!” Alnon ignored him and continued walking towards the house on the hill. It was the late 1800s so this house in particular seemed clean cut and pristine, catching a resemblance almost of a castle whether then a mansion. But judging from how rich these people were, they might as well be an aristocratic society. Alnon didn’t care much for home exterior, but every once in awhile, he likes to think what it’d be like if he too owned one. Maybe he wouldn’t have to scrape by and take side jobs like this. Maybe then he could work himself up to be a semi-normal person. That’s what he’d like to think anyway. `Alnon glanced upwards at the house intently, hiding behind a conveniently shaped tree as he heard a ‘click’ of the door shutting, revealing a small girl with silver hair and snow white skin. Her hair curled gracefully at the ends as she tugged on her brown jacket. Clutched in her hand was a small brown bear and a small porcelain doll in the other. Alnon took out a folder and skimmed through the pages to the info profile of the kid. Name: Ambrosia Theol Age: 9 Born: April 6, 1889 Eye color: hazel Hair color: Silver Height: 4”3 Personality: Miss Theol has a kindred spirit though sometimes when not can cause in whining and fussing. She loves drawing fantasy creatures and role plays with her toys under a small willow tree. Despite her hyperactivity she never turns away in helping her family. Likes: Butterflies, jasmine tea, vegetable/tomato soup, Sunny days, rainbow flowers. Dislikes: Insects, stormy nights, ghost stories *Note: She might be a bit hasty upon approaching her. She seems curious than others, so see to it that you come in peace. Coax her in the best way that you can. Alnon planned to do just that. He made sure to approach subtly, his eyes shifted towards the window where the mother could be seen cooking in the kitchen, just in the distance of the parlor. He dug in his satchel a new, blonde porcelain doll and candy bag. Alnon inched up, holding his cane on his arm. “Rather foggy day to be playing outside, miss~” He spoke in a silky voice. The little girl gasped, glancing up to see his head held high , leaning against his cane in a confident stature. “I believe so, sir. Though, it means my castle is hidden from intruders. That way, the princess is safely kept hidden from danger,” she replied confidently. Alnon chuckled, bending down as he held the two things behind his back.     “Well aren’t you the smartest princess in this neck of the kingdom. Just for that, you get an extra special treat! But you gotta close your eyes!” He points. Ambrosia giggled and complied. Alnon pulled out the doll and tied the candy to its wrist. “Okay, now open your eyes.”Ambrosia opened and her smiled widened, gently reaching out for it only to stop. “O-Oh pardon me, may I have this?” She asked, anxiously fidgeting with her sweater. If Alnon was a fool for emotions, he would’ve squealed at the thought of her modest question, though any sort of feeling, he’d instantly numb himself. He remembered the last time an employee started to go soft on the victim, and several days after their escape, he was found and dismembered. So he made sure to keep things strictly business. That was the motto for them. Alnon nodded. “Of course, young lady, how formal of you to ask.” He gently handed her the toy before sitting next to him “Say would this princess be making a grand entrance tomorrow for Hallows Eve?” “No sir, unfortunately not. My mom has personal affairs to attend to, so she won’t be able to make a dress for the princess in time. It's quite a travesty, someone of the royal family to not participate in holiday activities.” Alnon formed a solemn expression. “That is quite a disappointment. I do wished to have graced her presence--unless…” “Unless what?” she looked at him curiously. Alnon shifted his eyes back to her before shrugging. “That is--if you’d be willing to come with me. Just a short ways along here, I have the coziest tailor shop in the whole of Pennsylvania. If i may, I’d be honored to create a perfect gown for the royal gala. If the princess wants~” Ambrosia looked over towards her house before staring at him. “What about my ma and pa? Can’t they come with us--” he put a finger to his lips         “Shhhh. I was thinking--maybe this would be like a surprise. You’d get the dress now, then tomorrow you can show them off to your folks!” He smiles warmly “Or you can just stay at home--” “Yes! Yes!” Ambrosia interrupted before he motioned to be quiet. She nods before standing up straight. “I mean--the princess would be most delighted to have a dress made in her honor. Please and thank you.” she added. That was it. Time to seal the deal. “This way, princess.” he grinned as he led her down the cleaned sidewalk path. There was a lesson tale about this he was sure. Something of a pied piper luring children to their death. Though, he wasn’t given direct orders to do so. He’ll have to wait and see. Just as he walked alongside her, Alnon noticed she was staring at him though still walking in a straight way. For some reason, he started to self consciously adjust his hat and bangs before he cleared his throat. “Is there something bothering you, my lady?” “Nay, sir, though we haven’t been properly introduced, and it's very rude to not say your name when just meeting.” He laughs before slapping his forehead. “Very right, I’m Ellis. What do they call you?” “I’m Ambrosia Theol. Daughter of Walter and Janet Theol,” She answered. “Might you be in the relations of the mayor?” “Its nothing to be parading around. It's very rude to brag about such money affairs. “ Ambrosia and ‘Ellis’ stopped near a car where Elias was lounging in the driver's seat. He eyed the two before he chuckles. “Well aren’t you a sweet little flower~” he grinned eerily Ambrosia backed away a little before bumping into Alnon, making him laugh and gently nudge her forward. “Come on then, get in the carriage, your grace.” he watched her smile fade.     “I’m not--sure about this. He makes me feel very uneasy, sir.”     “You want that dress don’t you? He’ll barely talk, ain’t that right, Jimmy!” Alnon exclaimed as Elias nodded.     “Not a word, I swear of it~” Ambrosia gulped as she glanced at the two before lifting herself up into the carriage. Alnon winks behind her before he got on and sit next to her. Elias soon drove off. Ambrosia clutched onto the doll as she avoided staring at the two. She wasn’t sure why she felt off on the whole situation. It’s not like she was going to be gone for long. Just for a couple hours, then she’d have the most beautiful gown this side of Germantown. Her friends would be in awe, and maybe. Just maybe, she’d catch the gaze of her crush. William Davis. Her own prince. She dreamt of them dancing at the Halloween formal, drinking cider. A wondrous night. She was interrupted by the abrupt stop of the car as she broke out of her daze. In her view was a clean cut apartment, though its inhabitants surrounding didn’t look friendly or welcoming. In Fact, they didn't even look human. Though covered with hats, she watched several men and women walk past the vehicle, different shades of a dark color, some had horns of a different shape. Some holding fire arms, some with knives or daggers. “Mr. Ellis, sir, where are we? I thought we were going into your tailor shop?” She asked meekly. Alnon, enjoying her fear, simply shifted in a solemn expression “I do apologise, Miss Theol, it seems the fog is too thick to drive in. We are in no way able to get pas

[sartle-blog]

And the Emmy goes to...ART!

[torentialtribute]

Meet the English-born coaches helping USA prepare for World Cup semi

Here are two reasons why USA are the runaway favorites to win the Women's World Cup : they have lifted the trophy more times than anyone else (three), and reached the last four on more occasions than any other team (seven).

On Tuesday night, another huge semi-final awaits Carli Lloyd, Megan Rapinoe and Co.

England have impressed on their way to the last four but now the challenge in front of Phil Neville's Lionesses is greater than anything they have faced so far in France .

Jill Ellis is the British-born coach masterminding USA's pursuit of Women's World Cup glory

If Neville needed any reminding or what lies ahead against the world's No 1 side, he need only ask another English-born coach masterminding her way across the Riviera.

Jill Ellis is the woman who led USA to glory back at the 2015 World Cup and following victory over France in the last eight, the coach who now holds all the cards heading into the semi-finals.

'I have an unbelievable amount of respect for her. She is the best at the moment, "Neville has said of his counterpart. But who is Ellis, and how did she and another English-born coach arrive at the helmet of US football?

Jill Ellis – US Women's coach

The 52-year-old grew up in Hampshire and used to play with her brother and other boys near Portsmouth.

But with women's football banned by the FA during her youth, a lack of opportunities forced her to look across the water.

"I truly think if I have stayed in England, I am not sure I would be in coaching," she told the BBC .

Ellis grew up in Hampshire and used to play football with her brother near Portsmouth

"It was a strange career path in the States but it wasn't a career path (in England) for sure."

She moved to the US in the 1980s and with that came the chance to play football 'as we know it'.

Ellis represented Fairfax's Robinson Secondary School, Braddock Road Youth Club Bluebelles and her college, William & Mary, before embarking on a coaching career that has spanned five states and led her up the ladder of the USWNT set-up.

Following stints with the United States Under-21 and Under-20 si des, she worked as an assistant to the senior team.

In 2012 and 2014 she took interim charge of the Stars and Stripes before landing the job full time. She has faced England five times since taking over, winning three times, losing one and drawing one. But she has never taken home tasks in a major tournament.

"I was just fortunate to move to the States and have an opportunity to play organized football as we know it," Ellis continued.

After coaching teams in five different states, Ellis joined the US set-up back in 2000

'What America gave me the dream, the opportunity and the ability to follow that path … but the whole British culture I experienced growing up is still with me.

"Had I grown up in another country, I don't think the passion for football would be what it is, for sure."

The Manchester United fan won the FIFA World Coach of the Year for Women's Football in 2015 after landing the World Cup in the same year.

On Tuesday night the father John, a former Royal Marines Command who later worked for the FA, will play You'll Never Walk Alone – as he does before every USA match.

Ellis' English accent has all but faded and for the family, there is little sense of split loyalty.

Ahead of Tuesday's game, Ellis' side were at the center of a World Cup spying storm

"On one hand, I am delighted to see the England girls do well," John told the Washington Post. 'But I truly know where my allegiance lies because this country gave me my opportunity. I have a lot of pride being English, but I came to America. '

Ellis was briefly sounded out by the FA when they were looking for a replacement for Mark Sampson two years ago. But she rejected talks and her father thinks she is now too 'Americanized' to return to England.

Yet ahead of Tuesday's game, Ellis' side were at the center of a World Cup spying storm after the United States sent officials into England's hotel to scout it as a place to stay before the World Cup final.

Two American officials, including the operations manager, arrived at the five-star Fourviere Hotel in central Lyon while Phil Neville and his players were training on a Sunday and were given a full tour of the facilities where England are preparing.

Neville said on Sunday night that it was breach of 'etiquette' and that he would expect his opposite number to instigate an investigation.

Dawn Scott – US high performance coach

Newcastle-born Scott has worked alongside Ellis for nine years. The current task is to ensure the US team are in peak physical condition come matchday.

The Magpies supporter worked with the England set-up between 2001 and 2009 before moving across the pond.

In the last decade she helped the US team cement their place as the most professional outfit in women's football.

High performance coach Dawn Scott is tasked with getting players in peak physical condition

Her own playing career in earnest when she was 14 and her mum rank a local radio station in search of a team for her daughter to join.

Scott was snapped up by Whitley Bay Ladies but the three -our round trip meant the teenager would get back as late as 11pm.

The long route to the World Cup semi-finals came through Worcester University, where she worked as a lecturer before joining Hope Powell's England set-up.

At the time, sports science in the women's game was 'non-existent'. But she worked with the Lionesses for eight years and helped them reach the final of the European Championships in 2009.

Now, using her expertise, she has the US players train at altitude, in high heat and in high humidity to prepare their bodies for battle.

Ellis and Scott, who have worked together for nine years, will hope to dash England's dreams

She is tasked with managing players' fitness and their physical performance, analyzing their training with heart-rate monitors and overseeing their recovery and nutrition.

Even when Rapinoe and Co are back with their clubs, the former Newcastle season ticket holder prescribes training programs, working with clubs to help the cream of US women's football avoid injury.

'A new area we are focusing on as well is monitoring menstrual cycles and paying attention to certain things in players' that around well,' she told the BBC.

Since joining the US team, she has helped them win gold at the 2012 Olympics and secure the 2015 World Cup. Come Tuesday night, Neville will hope USA's physical capabilities will be tested to the limit.

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[fixationandobsession-blog]

Male Fandom and Gender Binaries

To speak of masculinities is to speak about gender relations. Masculinities are not equivalent to men; they concern the position of men in a gender order. They can be defined as the patterns of practice by which people (both men and women, though predominantly men) engage that position. There is abundant evidence that masculinities are multiple, with internal complexities and even contradictions; also that masculinities change in history, and that women have a considerable role in making them, in interaction with boys and men’ Quoted by the renowned RW Connel, Masculinities (1995) on his piece ‘Hegemonic masculinity’. With the same breath, introducing the concept ‘Male Fandom’. This essay aims to elaborate the third theme of my Blog, the Culture life masculinity and gender roles.

Focusing on Hautakangas’ journal “It’s ok to be joyful?” I will be elaborating the concept being male fandom by portraying how the community that arises around, for instance, a movie, an a capella group, or even a sports team is recognized as a fandom. One must note that each fandom contains its own culture, rules, and in-jokes that expedite community engagement involving a matter that the members of the group are passionate about (Sesek & Pusnik, 2014; Stanfill, 2013). Members participating in fandom search out those with this regular enthusiasm for request to talk about, investigate, expend, and appreciate content as a member of a network  (Booth & Kelly, 2013 et al.). This dynamic is the component that is linking all fandoms, regardless of the content on which the group is fixated. A group of sports fans might come together to spectate the annual Wimbledon in the front row pitch , while a group of Migos fans might respond to each other’s comments on the band’s bassline in their new hip-hop song. These interactions give the participants a feel of fitting in within the group, and keep fans remain engaged in the content even long after the game or music video is over (Anderson, 2012 et al.). However, for those partaking in more underestimated or alternative fandoms, those praising substance that isn't acknowledged by standard society to be advantageous or impressive assumes an extensive part in their being a fan cooperation (Bell, 2013). Individuals search out being a fan networks to have an approach to express their delight for these types of substance without telling their companions or family about their contribution (Sesek and Pusnik, 2014). Hautakangas speaks about the adult male enthusiasm for a show at first proposed for young ladies isn't unique to Bronies (Hautakangas, 2015). Before there were Bronies, some grown-up men made a fandom around Barbie dolls. Significantly more like Bronies, the show Powerpuff Girls ,which was coordinated by Lauren Faust, had a solid grown-up male after because of the depth of the personality of characters in the show (Ellis 2015). .

With the growth of the internet and internet communities, fandom has become easier to access as opposed to the average fan. The presence of the internet and the expanded openness it gives in some cases indicates that self-conscious fans will make anonymous writes that their peers and family would not have knowledge of. (Anderson, 2012 By having this outlet, members in these fandoms can add to discourse and draw in with others in comparable circumstances, making a tight-weave network that bonds over disconnected society's dismissal of their advantage (Anderson, 2012). In a band, being a fan, a genuine fan does not simply mean you consume the band's music, but rather know each verse by heart, post pictures on social networking media sites or on your home room dividers, and memorizes fanfiction about the band (Sesek and Pusnik, 2014)Since being a fan can possibly turn into an expansive piece of somebody's personality, it channels into numerous parts of life (Anderson, 2012; Bettis and Adams, 2006). At the point when young people are strongly associated with being a fan culture, this network can shape their perspectives of sexual personality (Anderson, 2012; Sesek and Pusnik, 2014). For a few young people engaged with sports fandoms, team promoters are the primary cases of sexualized ladies that they see (Bettis and Adams, 2006). For a few youths engaged with kid band fandoms, the individuals from the band turn into the objects of their sexual wants (Anderson, 2012; Sesek & Pusnik, 2014). The both of these fandoms manage these types of sexual articulation in various courses, taking into consideration diverse societal understandings of the sexualizing dynamic.For example, sexualizing ladies in the realm of games, whether it is in undergarments football or cheerleading, is viewed as ordinary (Bettis and Adams, 2006). Some portion of the manly idea of games fandoms is attesting heterosexuality and strength over ladies (Borer, 2009). Team promoters are the healthy however hot, young ladies’ male dream is a projection of manly want (Bettis and Adams, 2006). The ladies who are sports fans themselves are minimized further, frequently compelled to either discard their gentility for manly, boyish girl mentalities or turn into a "frill fan," at the amusement for the alluring competitors or pink, "young lady suitable" shirts (Borer, 2009, p. 2). There is an inability to allow empowered female sexuality to exist in tandem with something as masculine as athletics, forcing women to become defensive when questioned about their sports fandom subscription (Borer, 2009; Dixon, 2014).

Since the normally held generalization is that men are more sexually expressive and included than ladies, sexual vocalization inside a male-dominated fandom is considerably more acknowledged and recognized as substantial (Anderson, 2012; Bettis and Adams, 2006). Sexual articulation inside a female-dominated fandom is less acknowledged and regularly met with confusion or revolt (Anderson, 2012). Maybe it is a direct result of the non-traditional sign of this female sexuality, fan fiction, that makes it difficult for standard society to comprehend (Sesek and Pusnik, 2014). Keeping in mind the end goal to clarify her interest with homoerotic fan fiction, one individual from the One Direction being a fan said that, "Much the same as men get a kick out of the chance to watch erotic entertainment with two ladies, young ladies jump at the chance to peruse around two good looking men" (Sesek and Pusnik, 2014, p. 119). The contrast between these two mediums (watching young ladies move together or perusing about young men experiencing passionate feelings for) don't appear inconsistent with each other, yet are met with altogether different responses from society (Bettis and Adams, 2006; Sesek and Pusnik, 2014)

Society’s perceptions of the two fandoms examined in this paper are very different. Sports fandoms are normalized and incorporated into mainstream society, while boy band fandoms are thought to be frivolous and childish (Anderson, 2012; Dixon, 2013). Perceptions aside, these two fandoms share a lot of similarities when it comes to dynamics, such as the criteria for what makes a true fan, and the community bonding aspect of the group as a whole. In both male and female dominated fandom, sexual expression is addressed and, although it manifests in different ways, how the fandom deals with it has the potential to shape the sexual identities and attitudes of individual fandom members. Acting as a community and safe place for many, fandom facilitates meaningful relationships for people and content

Society's view of the two fandoms analyzed in this essay are altogether different. Sports fandoms are standardized and fused into mainstream society, while boy band fandoms are believed to be childish and silly (Anderson, 2012; Dixon, 2013). Observations aside, these two fandoms share a ton of likenesses with regards to elements, for example, the criteria for what makes a genuine fan, and the network holding part of the gathering overall. In both male and female ruled being a fan, sexual articulation is tended to and, in spite of the fact that it shows in various ways, how the being a fan manages it can possibly shape the sexual characters and states of mind of individual being a fan individuals. Going about as a network and safe place for some, being a fan encourages important connections for individuals and substance

 Anderson, T. (2012). Still kissing their posters goodnight: Female fandom and the politics of popular music. Journal of Audience & Reception Studies, 9(2), 239-264.

Connell, R.W., 2005. Masculinities. Polity.

Sesek, L. & Pusnik, M. (2014). Reading popular literature and digital media: Reading experience, fandoms, and social networks. Anthropological Notebooks, 20(2), 103-126.

Bell, C. (2013). The ballad of Derpy Hooves – transgressive fandom in My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Humanities Directory, 1(1), 5-22

Borer, I. M. (2009). Negotiating the symbols of gendered sports fandom. Social Psychology Quarterly, 72(1), 1-4.

Booth, P. & Kelly, P. (2013). The changing faces of Doctor Who fandom: New fans, new technologies, old practices? Journal of Audience & Reception Studies, 10(1), 56-72.

Hautakangas, M., 2015. It’s ok to be joyful? My Little Pony and Brony masculinity. The Journal of Popular Television, 3(1), pp.111-118.

[asdamagicbiscuits]

Theatre Hightlights 2017

My Top 10 (13 really if we are being specific) Theatre Highlights and Moments of 2017 (in no particular order but it roughly goes in the order everything happened. I combined things together to make it easier to read and talk about without doubling back on myself)

Now let’s get started!

Les Mis and Cinderella

The start of 2017 saw me returning to London see Les Mis and Cinderella at the London Palladium with my friend Johanna.

It was lovely to kick-start my theatre-going for the year with a trip to Les Mis. I do love that show, it’s a timeless piece and one I will never get sick of. It was great to see Adam Bayjou as Jean Valjean, he did a fantastic job and delivered a top class performance. The vocals in Bring Him Home - sublime!

I was lucky enough to win a competition for two tickets to see Cinderella and wow, I was blown away by everything. The whole company worked so hard to put on a wonderful show, I throughly enjoyed it so much. Natasha Barnes was perfect as Cinderella and I had chills every time she sang, just beautiful. For me I was most excited to see Paul O’Grady in the show and he didn’t disappoint. Absolutely fabulous and I’m so glad I got to see him perform in the show.

Definitely started 2017 in the best way!

Grease at Leicester Curve

My first #BindonOnTour trip of the year had me returning to the Leicester Curve to see Grease the Musical again. Those of you who read last year’s post will remember that I saw it at the end of last year and adored it, so I was thrilled to be able to get in to see the show again before it closed. It made for a lovely early birthday treat and I adored seeing Jessica Paul as Sandy, and Luke George on stage again. Both gave incredible performances as always, and it was well worth all the travel I did that day to see them! The whole company were so on it and I stand by everything I said before about this show!

Death Takes A Holiday

This show had me returning to the Charing Cross Theatre to see another of Maury Yeston’s masterpieces. The score, like the other Yeston shows I’ve seen, spoke to my soul and I fell in love with the show. Maury has this quality of writing stunning music and all the little musical links were so fitting for the piece - I couldn’t get the music out of my head. You could say it haunted me but in a lovely way, drawing me back.

Excellent casting with Zoe Doano, Chris Peluso and then James Gant in the leads as Grazia and Death. Zoe’s soprano was showcased beautifully in this show and someone needs to cast James Gant as Phantom, as the way he sang Alive and I Thought I Could Live on the last show was spectacular. What a voice and boy can that man belt!

The rest of the company were incredible, Scarlett Courtney was a standout for me as Daisy and she broke my heart each time I saw her with her part in What Do You Do. Beautiful.

42nd Street

If I had to pick THE show of 2017 for me it’s 42nd Street hands down. It’s the most feel good show you could wish to see. I get asked what to see in London a lot by people. My singing teacher calls me his theatre guru as I see so much theatre and work all the hours god sends on top! (Hi Adam if you’re reading!)

This is the show I always say in a heartbeat. I’m so happy when I watch it. I cry at the overture - it makes me so happy and an emotional wreck as well. This is also a show I desperately want to see James McKeon conduct!!

The casting is en-point. Clare Halse is divine as Peggy, what a dream and whether you sit front row or at the back of the balcony, her performance never fails to touch and reach you. Tom Lister has Julian down to a tee, and those guys and girls in the ensemble - hats off every time to them. But really the whole company is stellar and I leave immediately thinking when can I go back?! The music is phenomenal, proper old school Hollywood movie musical vibes. I have to mention the person who drew me to go and see 42nd Street and ultimately to fall in love with this musical, Luke George. Those who read my highlights last year will remember that I saw Luke in Titanic and in Grease at the Leicester Curve, so to see him on stage again in this incredible show is so great. I love spotting him in the show and especially at the beginning when the curtain rises and you see everyone’s feet tap dancing! Look out for orange tap shoes and green socks - that’s Luke!! 😀

42nd Street can be found at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane in London’s West End so get down to meet those dancing feet and also don’t forget to buy the London Cast Recording which is available on iTunes and Spotify.

Mikado

The next stop on #BindonOnTour saw me going to Bath to see the second ever show of All Male Mikado. I also managed to see it again later on in the tour when it went to Brighton. I went to see Richard Munday play the lead in the show Nankipoo. It was fantastic to see Richard on stage again, he was absolutely brilliant and his comic timing was excellent. One moment I remember really clearly was when he plopped his head down on the table and a plate bounced up in the air and landed on his head. It was so unexpected and even now it still makes me chuckle thinking about it. I really enjoyed hearing Richard sing Gilbert and Sullivan. Two very joyous evenings spent in two lovely venues seeing a great show!

Deposit

This was the only play I saw this year but I was very lucky to be able to get to see the show three times, and seeing Natalie Dew again is always a delight!! There were only 4 people in the company, including Natalie. They were all outstanding and played off each other so well, tackling a story which is very relevant to London today. It was a really lovely piece of theatre, extremely well performed by all of them, and the Hampstead Theatre is such a gorgeous venue. Like everything I’ve seen Natalie in, there is always one moment in the show where she makes me cry. She’s a wonderful actress and the truth in the portrayal of every character she plays is so natural and organic. I hope 2018 brings me more opportunities to see this lady do her thing, as she’s damn good and such a sweetie!! ☺️

The Addams’ Family

I was very lucky to be able to see the UK Tour of The Addams’ Family twice. In Bath in June and again in Dartford in November.

In Bath I took my very good friend Holly, who adores TAF Musical, and I managed to get us front row seats. It was incredible seeing the show so close. I was genuinely blown away by the entire production, it was all so well put together. The company were outstanding. Fantastic music, beautiful vocals, stunning choreography. If this doesn’t get a London transfer I’ll cry. Everyone should see this show!! THE BEST touring production I’ve ever seen and I see a lot of theatre, especially through my work. When the gauze came in and they were doing set changes behind it and it went out revealing something different I was so surprised, I didn’t even notice that’s what they were doing behind there. The story and performances were so engaging and really drew you in, especially the ensemble. Shoutout to Kirsty Ingram and Jessica Buckley who always drew my attention whenever they were on stage. The costumes were so well designed and thought out. Especially with the ancestors.

Beg, borrow or steal a ticket if this show goes to London, you won’t regret it!!

A very long Les Mis post

Cast Change is always a hard time as you are saying goodbye to people you’ve watched perform over the past year. The hardest goodbye was to the absolute legend that is Kayleigh McKnight who was such a badass Factory Girl and one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met. She lights up the stage when she is performing and I’m hoping she’ll return one day to Dream The Dream.

Now the 19th July 2017 is one of those stagey dates which will stick in my memory for a particular reason. Now after a year of being on a third cover alert after Cast Change I was moving to a second cover alert and 19th July was the show I had waited so long to see. Antony Hansen’s debut as Jean Valjean. Wow. Just wow. He completely blew my mind during that show for he kept hitting every mark, I couldn't fault him. At the end of JVJ’s Soliloquy in the Prisoner section I knew he was joining the ranks of one my favourite JVJ’s of all time. Hands down the strongest debut I’ve ever seen by someone in a role. Cover debut or Principal! I was very fortunate to be able to see him again front row on September 4th and it was just incredible! The detail Antony put into the character and the performance he delivered. It was strong, confident and he didn’t falter once. Well worth the over a year wait to see him. I urge everyone to go see this man in action as JVJ! You won’t be disappointed. I also want to briefly mention how fantastic Antony is as Courf and how even in the ensemble he stands out and delivers a brilliant performance. Although I do now worry every time at the start of the ABC cafe when he makes his entrance after he nearly fell over on the stairs. Trust me to find something to worry about in what should be one of the safest ensemble tracks there are in the show!

Shitfaced Shakespeare including my Brighton and Ed Fringe adventures

Sitting down to write this part and I’m here thinking - where do I even begin?!

Firstly I must start with a massive apology to everyone at Magnificent Bastard Productions for actually they should have been in my highlights last year! But I’m a plonker and when I came to write 2016’s highlights I completely went blank. So I’m very sorry for that so buckle in for a bumper mention this year.

As mentioned I saw Shitfaced Shakespeare’s fantastic A Midsummer Night’s Dream in 2016. I went with two friends from work called Phil and Will (shout-out guys) which still cracks me up now BECAUSE IT RHYMES. Simple things 😂🙊 I digress though. I had the fantastic Saul Marron as Compère and the Rev Lewis Ironside as a drunk Lysander, with Stacey Norris, Beth-Louise Priestley, David Ellis and John Mitton as the rest of the company performing that night. It was, quite simply the best night EVER. So funny, I was laughing so hard I squeaked! Whilst I don’t remember much, what I do remember I still talk about it to this day and I was gutted I only saw it once! Fast forward to 2017. When I saw Shitfaced Shakespeare would be returning to the Leicester Square Theatre with Much Ado About Nothing I knew I had to go and see them. I ended up practically moving into the venue with my very good friends Rebecca and Sarah. We also went on a few roadtrips to see the fringe company in Brighton and Edinburgh perform Romeo and Juliet. Edinburgh Fringe was pure joy and I’m so excited to go back next year to see those guys in action.

If there was a show which summed up my summer it would be that one. So many laughs, so many quotes which had me laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe, my personal favourite comes from Mr David Ellis himself, ‘Go fuck thyself’ had me in stitches for about 10 minutes.

It was fantastic to see everyone I saw in Midsummer on stage again and to get to meet them all was wonderful. The whole Shitfaced family are such hugely talented, lovely and the most down to earth people you’ll ever meet. An absolute joy to watch on stage and those guys certainly made my summer, so many amazing memories. Thank you all, so excited to see you all in 2018!

Tickets for their London run next year are on sale as we speak so make sure you go and book to see Merchant Of Venice and Romeo and Juliet at the Leicester Square Theatre and go see them on fringe too. Follow @shitfacedshake for updates!

Wind In The Willows

Having seen this show on tour in 2016, I was very excited to return to the Riverbank when it transferred to the Palladium over the summer, and I was not disappointed. It was still as delightful and sweet as I remembered. Craig Maither and Simon Lipkin were such a fantastic pairing as Mole and Ratty and had me laughing and crying throughout. The songs which got me on tour got me in London. A Friend Is Still A Friend and A Place To Come Back To have to be hands down two of the best songs ever written but I mean the whole album is inspiring and complete genius.

In London I finally got to see Jenna Boyd as Mrs Otter and Georgie Westall as Mrs Hedgehog. What. A. Show. I had cried already by the end of the opening song. It was a show I certainly won’t forget in a while. Jenna had such a warmth about her Mrs Otter and played really well opposite Emily, who played Portia. Georgie was fantastic as Mrs Hedgehog and stole the show, along with James Gant who played Mr Hedgehog, in the Hedgehog’s Nightmare. Pure joy and one of the best shows I’ve seen this year.

Phantom Cast Change & THAT Phantom Show

Cast Change never gets any easier and this year it was time to say goodbye to the lovely and incredibly talented Lyndsey Gardner, who I’ve seen as a swing then move into second cover Carlotta. I was really sad to see her leave as she is always such a ray of sunshine and lights up the stage so bright when performing. I’ve been very blessed to see her as Carlotta so many times and the first time I saw her (it was her second ever Carlotta show) I was front row and it was magical.

Now I was already planning to go on 7th September to see Georgia Ware as Principal Meg so when I found out that Leo Miles was on for Raoul I was so happy to see them both on together. Then I found out that Lyndsey was coming back as Carlotta and I lost my chill completely. I couldn’t believe it. I had waited a year to potentially see the three of them together, never expecting to get to see them, and it took Lyndsey to leave the company and be called in and for Georgia to be made Principal for it to happen. I remember thinking I must be dreaming, this can’t be real. But looking at the cast board and seeing all their names up there, I knew I was in for a very special and magical afternoon. Sitting in my seat I was shaking before the show even started, I couldn’t believe my luck. During the show I wish I had more eyes to watch all of them individually but I soaked up every bit I could and I throughly enjoyed it. Stunning and flawless performances all round and I was so proud of all three of them and watching them take their bows I can’t deny it I did get really emotional! One of the most unforgettable afternoons ever and even writing about it now I can still remember it so clearly!! Absolutely perfect!

Kinky Boots for Rebecca’s Birthday

My last London theatre trip of the year saw me returning to the Factory with my good friend taking a few newbies to see the show. Me, Sarah and Zoe organised this as an early Birthday treat for Rebecca who had been waiting to see this since February! It was fantastic to see the new company of Kinky Boots. Simon-Anthony Rhoden was an absolute dream as Lola and played so well opposite Jordan Fox who was on for Charlie Price that evening. Their vocals were sublime and if I didn’t know Jordan was a cover I’d have thought he was Principal. Absolutely solid performance and handled my favourite songs in the show with ease, making it look effortless. Verity Rushworth was out of this world as Lauren. So sassy and fun. Even if Lauren wasn’t the main focus in a scene I found myself watching Verity’s captivating performance. A joy to watch.

In every show I’ve seen Dale Evans in the first time I see him in a show I always see him on for his cover role. First Chris in Miss Saigon, then Frank in Showboat and now Harry in Kinky Boots. It was great to see Dale on stage again and on for Harry that night. Take What You Got is my Favourite Song in the show and Dale and Jordan did a fantastic job with it. One of many highlights in the show for me. Hopefully I’ll see them both again!

I’m most excited to be returning to the Kinky Boots Factory in 2018. January can’t come soon enough! ‘Let’s make shoes’

Panto!

My last two theatre trips of the year and also the last two stops of #BindonOnTour for 2017 saw me heading off to Panto land!!

Firstly I went to see Peter Pan at my local theatre where I live to see Abigail Matthews in Peter Pan. I was so excited to see Abigail perform again. I was gutted to miss her last year in Cinderella so made sure I got in to see her this year and I was not disappointed, she was fantastic. I had a smile on my face every time she was on stage. It was really good to see her play both Mrs Darling and Tinkerbell, her characterisation between the two was excellent and casting her as Tinkerbell was inspired!! I loved how sassy and cheeky Abigail was as Tinkerbell and comic timing was en-point. Vocals were divine and damn that girl has a belt on her, completely blown away.

Adam Woodyatt was delightful as the villainous Captain Hook and Antony Lawrence was hilarious as Smee and did great interacting with the audience.

My next trip to Panto land saw me off to Bath to see my good friend Simeon Dyer in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Honestly I had such a good afternoon, absolutely fantastic show and Devon Elise Johnson was a dream as Snow White. Massive shoutout to all the guys and girl playing the Dwarfs, their characterisation was brilliant and as a group they bounced off each other really well - the highlight of the show was all the scenes in their house, loved them.

Both companies in the two pantos were outstanding and did a great job, especially keeping the energy up with the gruelling schedule. Hats off to them!

Well that's been 2017. As stagey as ever but that’s just how I like it! Had yet another fantastic year in the theatre world and I couldn’t love this industry more if I tried. Very proud to be a part of it. Who knows what will make the cut next time but I sure know it’s gonna be one hell of a ride! So make sure you come back next year and find out what my highlights for 2018 are!

Until then, cheerio!

[brothermarc7theatre]

"The Great American Trailer Park Musical" show #653

What? They wrote a musical about life in a trailer park? Yes! David Nehls (score) and Betsy Kelso (book) created a musical all about those mobile home communities that have such fun reputations. The setting is Armadillo Acres in a Northern Florida town called Starke. This wild ride of a musical is most reminiscent of Little Shop of Horrors, if Seymour cheated on his wife and all the characters were written as rednecks. You have a female trio, a leading man who falls in like with an abused young woman, and an abusive boyfriend who gets high on highlight markers (yes, it’s that similar a plot). This romp of a show has quite the country-esque score though, demanding legitimately fantastic singers, whether in harmony or belting solos. Trey Compton’s apt staging balances poking fun at the caricatures of trailer park residents while only making you care for the characters as long as the song goes. The cast is nothing short of dynamite, making as much of the wacky book logical and funny as possible.

(L to R: Cat Yates (Jeannie), Andrew Berlin (Norbert), Audra Qualley (Lin), Erica Hanrahan-Ball (Betty), Kaitlyn Sage (Pickles), Ellie Wyman (Pippi); Photo credit: Rich Miller Photography)

Ever since Jeannie and Norbert lost their son twenty years ago due to a kidnapping outside of a salon, Jeannie has been crippled with agoraphobia, unable to leave their trailer. Even a promised twenty-year anniversary celebration at the Ice Capades isn’t alluring enough for her to leave, causing husband Norbert to stray when sexy new stripper, Pippi, comes to the trailer park. Pippi is on the run from abusive, off-his-nut, marker-addicted man, Duke, and finds comfort in Norbert’s arms and bed before too long. The trio consisting of Betty (the matriarch of the Acres’ residents), Lin (short for Linoleum, as she was born on the kitchen floor), and Pickles (so-called cause of her constant hysterical pregnancies) provide cameos as various roles, narrations and commentary, as well several kick ass harmonic turns that are sure to please all hearing-abled audience members. A few “surprise” endings, most of which can be seen from several trailers away, help tie up the end of the musical quite nicely, making the intermission-less structure worth the sitting time.

(L to R, Clockwise: Kaitlyn Sage (Pickles), Cat Yates (Jeannie), Andrew Berlin (Norbert), Ellie Wyman (Pippi), Audra Qualley (Lin), Kneeling: Erica Hanrahan-Ball (Betty); Photo credit: Rich Miller Photography)

Andrew Berlin and Cat Yates play leading couple, Norbert and Jeannie, with great candor and lamenting chemistry as Jeannie’s stubborn will draws the characters further apart romantically. Mr. Berlin has a wonderfully-placed calibration on being the bumbling husband who just follows his…ummm…instincts, while never falling into becoming an unbelievable idiot. His vocals are stellar in the exciting opening “This Side of the Tracks,” as well as “One Step Closer” alongside the equally gifted Miss Yates, and a great duet with her in “Owner of My Heart.” Miss Yates lets it all loose in the best-staged musical number, a laugh-a-second “Flushed Down the Pipes.” Ellie Wyman delivers an outstanding performance as Pippi, nailing the vocal demands in “The Buck Stops Here” and in a show-stopping solo turn in the “Finale.” Miss Wyman’s sensuality and presence makes her a believable trailer-park ingénue with fine-tuned comedic deliveries and dance ability.

(Kneeling: Cat Yates (Jeannie), Standing L to R: Erica Hanrahan-Ball (Betty), Audra Qualley (Lin), Kaitlyn Sage (Pickles); Photo credit: Rich Miller Photography) 

Erica Hanrahan-Ball leads the opening number with a positively dominating vocal turn and narration, is hilariously personable as the hostess of “The Great American TV Show,” but outdoes herself with all the notes she gloriously hits in “Storm’s A-Brewin’.” Audra Qualley is a delightful actress who has the comedic timing down pat, and has several moments of belting and wailing in “The Side of the Tracks,” “It Doesn’t Take a Genius,” and “That’s Why I Love My Man” to make her own memorable performance a well-received one. Kaitlyn Sage dons the ditsy face and slow-and-steady cadence of the “innocent” sidekick within the trio, slow playing every laugh line to its juiciest core. Though her upper-range vocals tend to thin out more often than not, the ability she has to transition her timbre and lower register acts as comedic extension of every line and lyric Miss Sage expertly delivers.

(Cody Gerszewski (Duke); Photo credit: Rich Miller Photography)

Cody Gerszewski, without a doubt, steals the show with his adorable, rockin’ travel song, “Road Kill.” His range has no limit in this song, and his facial expressions and “Jekyll and Hyde”-esque demeanor of the crazed boyfriend hits the nail on the head consistently in his performance. Adding to the success of “Road Kill” (and several other numbers, for that matter) is Mr. Compton putting Mr. Gerszewski on an office chair with wheels to act as the car while the ladies sing back-up using flashlights as headlights. Top it off with Miss Hanrahan-Ball in an onesie representing a certain species of road kill and you have the most memorable number of the production.

(Cast of The Great American Trailer Park Musical; Photo credit: Rich Miller Photography)

Complimenting Mr. Compton’s staging and Mike Sali’s extremely creative and captivating lighting design is Michael Kramer’s ambitious set design that is perfect for the East Sonora stage. It makes the usually cramped space appear to be a legitimate neighborly trailer park, providing three functional trailers, each uniquely designed and used for various scenes and songs. Of the thirty shows I have seen at Sierra Repertory Theatre (this includes both theaters), this is the most collectively earnest technical design, and it pays off brilliantly. Armadillo Acres will be taking visitors through August 20th, so jump on the bike, car, tractor, or horse and head straight over to the theater for a gut-busting time with this talented cast.