#antonio vivaldi spring

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Random Facts: Sylus

Antonio Vivaldi:

At the start of chapter 2 of Sylus' "Twilight Chronicles" event story, Sylus briefly hums a melody.

This melody is from "The Four Seasons", a group of four violin concerti by Antonio Vivaldi - each themed for the four seasons of the year (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter). The specific melody he hums is from the first movement of "Spring" (aka Allegro: Concerto No. 1 in E Major, "Spring")

Interesting Facts:

Each movement of each concerto is actually accompanied by a sonnet. Though it is not known for sure who wrote them, it is widely theorized that the sonnets were also written by Antonio Vivaldi. Below is the English translation of the sonnet corresponding with the first movement of "Spring".

Allegro

"Springtime is upon us.

The birds celebrate her return with festive song,

and murmuring streams are

softly caressed by the breezes.

Thunderstorms, those heralds of Spring, roar,

casting their dark mantle over heaven,

Then they die away to silence,

and the birds take up their charming songs once more."

[unabashedqueenfury]

Reign 2013-17/01-13

Adelaide Kane as Mary Stuart

♡ "The Spring" ♡

[kdo-three]

𝗝𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗝𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗻: 𝗔𝗻𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗼 𝗩𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹𝗱𝗶’𝘀 “𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗦𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝘀” | 𝗟𝗮 𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗮 (𝗦𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴) Concerto No. 1 in E major, Op. 8, RV 269 Baroque | Italian Baroque

3. Allegro: Pastorale

Tumblr (left click = play) (320kbps)

Personnel: Janine Jansen: Violin / Soloist Julian Rachlin: Viola Maarten Jansen: Cello Candida Thompson: Violin Henk Rubingh: Violin Elizabeth Kenny: Theorbo Stacey Watton: Double Bass Jan Jansen: Harpsichord

Produced by Dominic Fyfe

Recorded: @ The Beurs van Berlage in Amsterdam, Netherlands between May 20 - 23, 2004

[klimt7]

.

Spring

Antonio Vivaldi

.

[pharaohgargamel]

✨🌸🌷🎵Весенние воспоминания под классическую музыку.

Часть 1

Музыка: Антонио Вивальди - Времена года "Весна"

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✨🌸🌷🎵Spring memories with classical music.

Part 1

Music: Antonio Vivaldi - Seasons "Spring"

[culturevulturette]

Obligatory.

[jerry-the-leech]

Get the fuck out of my music playlist, spring by vivaldi. Can't you see I'm trying to angst out here???

[naturecpw]

Antonio Vivaldi - Spring by Asturia Quartet 👇 🌼🌻 🌼 👇

[words-4u]

unexpected visit - m.k

pairing: melissa king x librarian f!reader

wc: 1.8k

a/n: SOOO sad the pitt is over but i can't wait for it to come back. truly one of the greatest shows i've seen.

the smell of books is something you will never tire of. not when you were younger and certainly not now. surrounded by books is how you always imagined you’d go, it’s most ideal to you; peaceful, quiet, in between so many worlds and yet alone. it’s certainly how you live, given your chosen career.

it was a quiet tuesday evening and you were pushing a cart of books down a carpeted aisle. you picked up a book on the history of war, scanning the spine for the authors last name. your eyes went back to the shelf and scanned the section until you found the appropriate spot, slotting the book in it’s rightful place.

you were an hour away from closing and barely anyone was in tonight so you put in your earphones, pressing play on some classical music, you let ‘the four seasons: spring 1’ ease you into your closing routine. you even hummed a bit as you went down the aisle putting books back where they belonged.

then there was a tap on your shoulder, it was light, but it spooked you nonetheless. startled, you took out your earphones and turned around.

behind you stood a woman, not much older than you, holding a stack of books. glasses were slightly skewed on her face, strands of hair fell out of her ponytail and her cheeks were red. “oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you,” her eyebrows scrunched with concern.

you smiled at her, “not scared, just surprised.”

“i- um, want these to sign out. if it’s not too late. i ran here to make it on time,” she said, explaining her dishevelled yet adorable look.

“yeah, of course,” you nod. “follow me.”

you moved your cart of books to the side and walked out of the aisle with the woman in tow. “out of curiosity, what were you humming? it sounded beautiful,” she complimented.

“oh,” you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “i didn’t realize you heard that.”

“sorry, i didn’t—“

“no, it’s okay, really,” you reassured her. “it was a classical piece called ‘the four seasons spring 1’ originally a piece by antonio vivaldi but reworked by a contemporary composer called max richter. it’s one of the most gorgeous sounds you’ll hear,”

she gave you a slow nod, “i will have to check that out.”

“I highly suggest it,” you said as you made it to the front desk. you walked around and stood in front of the computer as she placed her books on the desk. her library card sat on top of the first book which you scanned first.

It was quiet for a moment before you spoke, “not to sound like a creep but i-i haven’t seen you here before. are you new… to the area?”

her eyes lit up, like she was glad you noticed. “i am actually. well, new to this part of town.”

you look through her stack of books.

tintinalli’s emergency medicine emergency department resuscitation of the critically ill roberts and dedges’ clinical procedures in emergency medicine

“and clearly… a doctor?” 

“yes! i’m starting my emergency medicine rotation next week and i want to be as prepared… as one possibly could be,” she responded as you scanned each book.

“that’s good. i’m sure you’ll be great,” you gave her a soft smile and finished checking her books out. but you were also checking her out. she was smart, inquisitive and pretty in an understated way. you rarely meet people that captured your attention like she did so as the reciept printed, you decided to shoot your shot, “would you… by any chance, want to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

“as a date?” she inquires. this came as a surprise to her, no one has ever asked her out before. it felt good. 

“only if that’s what you want,” you placed both hands on top of her books and slid it across the table.

she swung her backpack off her shoulder and stuffed her books in, still pondering your request. then she looked up and with a definitive nod said, “i’d like it very much to be a date.”

your nose scrunched with smile you tried to contain. “great, okay. here’s my number,” you grabbed a scarp paper that you tossed aside earlier in the day and scribbled your information down. “and my name which is y/n, by the way,”

“nice to meet you, y/n. i’m melissa but everyone calls me mel. i prefer it too,” she grinned. you handed her the paper which she took and held tightly in her hand.

“It was nice meeting you too, mel,” you smiled.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

one of your proudest moments was that day almost 10 months ago because you made that scary first step and it paid off massively. you’re now in a beautiful stable relationship with dr. melissa king and you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

while it was one of the things you admire about her, dating a doctor isn’t always the easiest. the long shifts often take it out of melissa with all the patients and running around the er she’s doing so when she comes over to your place, you know it’s a non-verbal type of night when she unlocks your door and goes straight into the washroom to rinse off. you make her something to eat as she’s likely forgotten during her shift and put her comfort movie on.

on days where’s verbal, she’ll greet you with a kiss and immediately get into all the cool things dr. robby and her senior resident, dr. langdon let her do and you listen with enthusiastic ears but today was neither.

today melissa, who often reads fictional books to unwind, forgot her copy of a wheel of time on your coffee table as she was rushing out to work this morning. since you have a day off, you decide to swing by the hospital and drop it off. 

you’ve never been to her hospital before and you’ve certainly never met the people she’s been working with, not cause she was trying to hide you as she’s told you before, there’s never been the right time. between caring for her sister becca, her job, and trying to be the best and most available partner to you, it was something that never came up and you’ve never really asked. but it was always lovely hearing about these incredible people that she works so closely with.

walking in through the front doors, you enter the waiting room. it was full to the brim with people even sitting on the ground with their backs against the way because there are no empty chairs.

you make it to the large window and smile at the woman behind the glass, “hi there, I’m looking for dr. melissa king. is she busy at the moment?”

before she could answer, an older blonde woman in grey scrubs holding a clipboard overheard your question and looks up, “you know mel?”

you look over at her and nod, “yeah, she’s my girlfriend.”

“no kidding,” she smirks. “welcome to the pitt, sweetie. come with me,” she opens one arm as you say briefly say goodbye to the woman behind the glass. you walk up to the older nurse as she leads you through the er doors. “I’m dana.”

“y/n,” you respond. the moment you stepped into the sterile site walls, it hit you. the smell of the sterile air, the constant noise of monitors beeping, people walking briskly in different coloured scrubs. it was overstimulating to you as major shift from your quiet workplace but you could also see it as an organized chaos. 

you spot melissa as she sits on a stool clicking away at a computer. a taller man leans over the top of her computer stand as they debrief. dana leads you straight to her. “mel, you gotta visitor!”

melissa looked up, surprise and glee filled her face. “hey! what are you doing here?” 

the man stood straighter and locks eyes with dana who just stands there and smiles.

“hi baby,” you walk up to her and kiss her cheek. melissa blushes but steps back. she isn’t entirely comfortable with pda so cheek kisses was as far as you go in public. 

“baby?!” a woman walking by repeats. she pulls her black hair into a ponytail. “sorry… you?” she points at yourself, “and you?” she points at melissa. “wow…”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you tilt your head. you couldn’t help but get defensive over mel and your relationship.

“nothing. way to go, king.” she holds up her hand for a high five.

melissa high fives her, “santos, your tone indicates that you’re surprised?”

“well... yes but also happy for you,” she says as walks backwards, away from the group.

“mel, do you want to introduce us?” the older man finally interjects. 

melissa gives her head a little shake, “oh yes! of course! y/n, this is the dr. langdon, my mentor and langdon this is y/n, my girlfriend.”

you reach your hand out to shake langdon’s hand, “it’s nice to finally put a face to the name, dr. langdon.”

“likewise. i’ve heard lots about you,” he says, excitedly. his phone buzzes and he pick up a call, “yeah…oh twice in one day, lucky us.”

you reach into your bag and pulled out the wheel of time. “you forgot your book this morning and i know you love to read on your lunch breaks,”

mel took the book and held it close to her chest. she’s touched. “thank you, you didn’t have to,”

“I wanted to,” you brush your hand down her arm. 

“is it true mel’s girlfriend is here?” two new people join your growing group at the nurses station. 

“oh, wow, you’re real... a-and really pretty,” you smile at the two younger looking doctors.

“this is victoria javadi and dennis whitaker,” mel says stepping closer to you.

before you could say anothing langdon hangs up the phone, "okay whitaker, javadi, you're with me we got another car crash coming in. multiple people injuired. code trauma,"

"oh, what about me?" melissa asks.

"you..." langdon looks at his watch and starts walking away slowly. "can take y/n here on a tour or something."

he notices the hesitancy on melissa's face and posture. "i mean, mel. we'll be fine. y/n," he looks to you. "hope this isn't the first and last we see of you,"

you smile at him.

melissa nods, taking in langdon's suggestion and turns to you when her supervisor leaves. "do you want a tour?"

"i'd love nothing more," you beam at her.

melissa takes your hand and guides you through each station of the pitt. you met dr. robby on the way, who seemed run down but still warm, and dr. mohan who wanted to know everything about being a librarian.

you didn't know what to expect for you unexpected visit but you were glad you came. seeing melissa so confident in the place she calls a second home made your heart swell. other than in your arms, it's where she belonged.

[nocturnal-impala]

Princess Tutu Zwei OST 1

OST 1: List of musical pieces used in Princess Tutu Zwei (promo + episodes 1-2)

-Danse Macabre (Camille Saint-Saëns) -The Firebird (Igor Stravinsky) -Vale Triste (Jean Sibelius) -Moonlight Sonata (Ludwig van Beethoven) -Sleeping Beauty (Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky) -Personages With Long Ears (Camille Saint-Saëns) -The Flight of the Bumblebee (Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov)

-Intro (official PT OST) -Carnival of the Animals: lions (Camille Saint-Saëns) -The Nutcracker: Waltz of the Flowers (Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky) -Canon in D (Johann Pachelbel) -Carnival of the Animals: fossils (Camille Saint-Saëns) -Ichinichi no Hajimari (official PT OST) -Carnival of the Animals: hens and rooster (Camille Saint-Saëns) -Carnival of the Animals: aquarium (Camille Saint-Saëns) -String Quartet (Joseph Haydn) -Mazurka Violin (from Coppélia, English National Ballet) -Fur Elise (Ludwig van Beethoven) -Coppélia Mazurka (Léo Delibes, English National Ballet) -Four Seasons: Winter (Antonio Vivaldi) -Four Seasons: Spring (Antonio Vivaldi) -Fushigi na Kinkan (official PT OST) -Zigeunerweisen (Pablo de Sarasate) -Elegi (Gustav Adolf II) -Carnival of the Animals: turtoises (Camille Saint-Saëns) -Le Diable amoureux; Satanella Variation (Napoléon Henri Reber & François Benoist, Paris Opera Ballet) -The Firebird, Tableau 2: Disappearance of Kashchei's Palace and Magic Spells (Igor Stravinsky)

OP-Waver (Todokoro Azusa) ED-Hoshizora no Inori /A Prayer to the Starry Sky (Okazaki Ritsuko) Insert song: Tsubomi no Koete / Flowerbud's voice (Todokoro Azusa)

[shuacore]

barcelona nights

reader (afab) x lsm — 6.9K summary:  "The music is all but static in the background, and for a moment it’s just the two of you again, drinking in the airless summer night and the sounds of other couples enjoying each other’s company. You run your thumb across Seokmin’s bottom lip, completely enraptured. His eyes are dangerously dark." —a/n: a fun little birthday present for my bffl ang <3 tags: swearing, smut (18+), probably too much plot n not enough smut, not completely proofread i’m so sorry, mentions of alcohol??, emotional and physical intimacy are my kryptonite, additional warnings under the cut

additional warnings: unprotected sex (always be safe pls!!), oral (f receiving),  pet names (princess, baby, angel, etc), not very adventurous but i would do anything with him tbh

playlist 4 the vibes!!! wyoming — elijah fox a quick getaway — stephen rennicks spring 1 — max richter, antonio vivaldi puerto claridad — amparanoia bamboleo — gypsy kings since i don’t have you — the skyliners the sun is in your eyes — jacob collier tell me — groove theory

Sweat drips down the bridge of your nose as the precarious stack of books in your hands threatens to wobble. Please, for the love of God, don’t fall. The summer heat is brutal—hot and humid—and it sucks all of the energy out of you as you shuffle to the library. It had been a difficult week of research and you were finally returning your books, ready to throw them and the stress from working so hard away. A bead of sweat lingers on your brow, slipping onto your eyelid and you blink furiously, praying it stays there until you can set your burden down. 

In your fervor, you walk a bit too close to the curb, your toes slipping off the edge—you feel the stack slip dangerously, and you curse out loud as you realize you’re falling, desperately clutching your books to your chest, the pavement below approaching a bit too fast when—

A hand clamps around your wrist, hauling you out of the street just as a car zooms past, ruffling your hair. 

“Careful!” a male voice says, breathless. And when you get a good look at your savior, it feels like you’ve been rocketed into one of the dramas you and your roommates obsessed over. 

His name is Lee Seokmin, he’s 25, an anthropology major, and he is the most handsome and charming man you have ever seen. He picks you up off the street, flashes you the most blinding smile, and then your mind goes blank. The rest is history.

So it’s no surprise to you after three years when he still asks questions like, “Do you remember when we met?” You resist the urge to scoff fondly. Always so sentimental.  

It’s a warm summer evening as you sit on the plaza, observing the night life of a quiet coastal Spanish town you had come across during the day. You pause the furious digging in your purse—for something which you had forgotten some time ago—to look at your partner, whose eyes are glazed over in dreamy contentment. 

“Really?” you ask, tampering down the amused look of disbelief that fights its way across your face. Seokmin hates being teased unless he initiates, even if it’s all in good fun. 

“No, I’m serious,” he says, in unwavering sincerity, head lolling against the back of the bistro chair as he watches you unabashedly. Even after so many years, Seokmin’s eyes still set your skin on fire, and he looks so picturesque like this, just a little bit undone from the day’s toils and a few glasses of wine down the line. The collar of his shirt is open a few buttons down, exposing a swatch of buttery smooth skin that—after the drinks you’ve had—makes your mouth water. He looks like the last burst of fading sunlight before nightfall. 

You shake your head with a small smile. “You’re ridiculous. Of course I do.”

Seokmin opens his mouth to say something else when his nostalgic reverie is interrupted by the waiter, who asks quietly if the two of you would like anything else. Your fiancé orders two more glasses of wine for the both of you, and thanks the waiter again as he finally takes the menus from your table. 

It’s quieter now. The night is beginning to dwindle down, your bellies full of good food and wine, and in the distance the ocean waves wash across the rocky shores, pulling pebbles out to sea with quiet shushing sounds. The air is salty on your tongue, and you know you probably look a mess, especially after the long day of heat and humidity, but Seokmin watches you with shining eyes like you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You blush sheepishly, fingers finally finding your lipstick in the bottom of your bag. 

“What?” you hiss without malice as Seokmin studies you. His cheeks are flushed, eyes shining even against the slowly dimming night light, and if you could commit an image to memory, if would be right here, right now, sitting at this table with him. Your stomach twists and you’re not sure if it’s a twinge of pain or an all-engulfing rush of affection, so instead you offer him another shy smile and replace your bag on the ground. 

He shakes his head, more to himself, and says, “You’ll make fun of me.” 

“Sure.”

“You’re just so radiant. All the time.” 

You suck in a breath, cheeks burning and laugh nervously. Seokmin was an all-or-nothing kind of guy, which meant you got all of his affection, all the time. It was overwhelming in the beginning, seeing how devoted he could be to one person, but you had grown accustomed to the quiet deference in which he did everything for you. Compliments were near holy to him. Nothing was more intimate than your name. His actions always spoke louder than words. For a while you had been resistant to it—like you would never quite deserve all the love he had to give—but Seokmin had a way of worming his way into your heart and lodging there until his smile was the only thing you could think of when you woke up. 

The waiter appears with two glasses in hand, asks once more if you need anything, before floating away again. You lift the glass—it’s a deep crimson and smells faintly sweet—and swirl the stem around in your fingers, watching the wine coat the sides of the glass with mesmerizing smoothness. 

Seokmin lifts his glass and murmurs a toast. You say it back, and the glasses hit each other with a soft ding! His eyes glint at you over the rim as he takes a sip. The wine is velvet on your tongue, rich and full-bodied, and it sends a flurry of warmth down your throat. 

You hum in appreciation and set the glass down on the table. Above, the stars blink into existence, mimicking the lights flickering to life around the plaza. They wash the patio in a lovely yellow glow, throwing Seokmin into soft relief. He looks a little out of it, pretty lips parted in hazy awe of the scenery around him. It’s still humid, but not too warm—just cool enough that it’s hard to tell where your body ends and the rest of the world begins. A moped passes by, its headlights bouncing off the stone walls of the buildings around you. The chatter from other cafe-goers could be white noise in the trees. In the background the sounds of sultry guitar float through the air, soaking into your skin and you sigh deeply, stretching your arms high into the air above you. It lulls you into a serene sense of calm and you close your eyes—just for a moment. 

Then—“Hey, dance with me,” you hear, whispered by lips pressed to your ear, and you open your eyes slowly to see Seokmin crouched next to your chair, his hand extended in offering. He looks so lovely here, so unguarded and pleased, the same overwhelming feeling of adoration—so strong it overflows into your throat—is difficult to choke back down. You take another hearty swig of wine, feeling it sink into your stomach and turn your legs to jelly. It activates the fuzzy feeling sitting dormant in your body, lifting you out of your chair and into the plaza center with other couples swaying slowly to the music emanating across the square. It all feels so horribly cinematic you’re having difficulty believing any of it’s real. 

You inhale sharply as Seokmin pulls you close to him, your bodies snapping together like magnets. His skin is sticky and warm from the summer heat as his hands brush over your ribcage and come to rest on your waist, coaxing you into a sensual rhythm of swaying hips and chests rising and falling in tandem. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you tight to his body. The wine keeps you limber—which is nice because otherwise you’d be two left feet with out it. 

Seokmin tips his head to rest his sticky forehead against yours, eyes dancing with mirth in the evening light. His fingers press into the small of your back, searing through the gauzy fabric of your blouse, igniting a slow burn that sweeps through your whole body. You sigh deeply as your eyes flutter closed, taking in the sounds of soft timbales and claves bouncing off the stone under your feet, the heat from Seokmin’s body on yours, and his lips pressed against your skin, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

It’s sexy, to say the least. The laughter and conversations around you vanish until all you know is the sound of Seokmin’s breath ragged in your ear and hot on your cheek. He smells like rosemary and mint and the soap from the hostel. His lips dip dangerously low on your cheek until they brush over the skin under your jaw, sending a chill down your spine despite the heat. Seokmin smiles against your temple as your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, skirting low over the smooth expanse of his stomach. He hums into your ear—a warning—as your fingertips trail just a little higher. But you’re still in public, so you pull back just enough to smile coyly at him and smooth the hem of his shirt back down.

The music is intoxicating, the melody swelling and swaddling you in a heady daydream of nothing but Seokmin. You tuck your nose into his shoulder, inhaling deeply as his fingers dance up your spine and land lightly on the back of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he confesses, and his laughter is swallowed by your lips suddenly on his, giddy and girlish. It’s just supposed to be an innocent peck—just a quick one you could share in public—but with the wine having gone completely to your head, the music reverberating in your chest, and Seokmin’s tongue in your mouth, it’s difficult to concentrate. Seokmin tastes like the Albariño you ordered, like lemon and nectarine, and so, so sweet your knees turn to liquid. He hums in content as a soft sigh escapes your mouth, unprompted. His hands are firm on your hips, fingers lacing through the belt loops of your skirt to pull you closer. You tangle your own in the damp strands at the nape of his neck, relishing the own sounds you can persuade from your partner’s throat. 

Someone catcalls in the background and you come to with a start. Seokmin’s face is rosy—from the wine or from you, it’s hard to tell—but he’s well past the point of having the grace to look embarrassed. His eyes are glued to you, drinking you in completely. You grin, hiding your face in his chest. The music is all but static in the background, and for a moment it’s just the two of you again, drinking in the airless summer night and the sounds of other couples enjoying each other’s company. You run your thumb across Seokmin’s bottom lip, completely enraptured. His eyes are dangerously dark.

“Go back to the hotel?” you whisper, mouth hovering mere centimeters away from his. 

Seokmin’s next kiss is indication enough. Grabbing your purse, he throws a few bills onto the bistro table before tugging you away from the plaza. Street signs bleed into flights of rickety stairs and cobblestone alleyways into flowered medians and quiet side roads. The ocean roars in greeting as you run unsteadily back to your hotel. Street lamps blaze into life amid loud shouts of laughter from nearby pedestrians, and the fluttery feeling in your stomach only grows. The only thing that stays constant is the feeling of Seokmin’s hand in yours, firm and reassuring. 

Then, unprompted, Seokmin tugs you into a hidden alcove off the street, and presses you hard against the brick wall, tilting your jaw up with his thumbs to pull you into a searing kiss. He draws in a sharp breath, groaning softly into your mouth as you sag into his touch. You feel like a teenager again, sneaking off the beaten path so you can put your hands all over each other. Seokmin is impatient—his hands dig into your hips, his mouth is on your jaw, and his body is so hot it’s any wonder he hasn’t yet burst into flames. 

“Seokmin,” you gasp, nails digging into his chest, breaking away. His excitement is palpable. He groans, irritated, and tips his forehead against your cheek, still holding you tight to him like you might still slip through his fingers. You extract yourself from his grasp, a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen and pull him away from the wall amidst protests. The privacy of your hotel room can’t arrive fast enough and it feels like eons before you’re pushing Seokmin against the back of the door yourself—so hard the air is knocked from his lungs—but he grins breathlessly as he draws you close, hip to hip, chest to chest, mouth to mouth.

You breath him in, smelling the lingering traces of cigarette smoke and lavender from the night markets on his clothes. Seokmin is all teeth and all tongue, hands traveling up and down the curve of your waist, over your ass, up your forearms and shoulders. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open as he slips his tongue in once more. You dissolve in his hands like water—you’ve always been so pliant with him, so eager to please it goes straight to his head.  

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbles, hand holding your jaw in place. His eyes are asking for a challenge. 

But you feel needy and slightly hysterical that it’s all you can do to say weakly, “You.” 

Seokmin’s breath is hot in your mouth and you have no choice but to ride the wave. This is Seokmin’s all-or-nothing, as he drags your thin linen blouse off your shoulders, popping the top button clean off amid breathless laughter so he can press more open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and collarbone. You sigh deeply, winding your fingers into the hair at the back of his head again, chasing his lips with potent desperation. Seokmin grins, canines glinting wolfishly in the moonlight. It’s difficult to see in the burgeoning darkness—nothing but vague shadows dancing on the walls—so you kick off your shoes haphazardly, stumbling until your knees eventually strike the edge of the bed. You hit the mattress with a huff!, Seokmin in tow. His hand is hot against your bare skin, palm pressed flat to your chest where your heart races.

“This is your fault, by the way,” you tease, and Seokmin feigns sympathy, except his fingers are little too far up your thigh for the sympathy to land. You suck in a breath, eyes burning as Seokmin gazes at you with undisguised want, eyes flicking around your face in a dizzying pattern—eyes, lips, cheeks, forehead, nose, eyes, lips—like it was the first time he’d ever seen you. The air grows thicker like mud, sticking in your nose and throat and you struggle to swallow, pushing yourself off the bed. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Seokmin asks, voice laced with worry. His figure is clothed in deep blue shadow in the imminent darkness. Air is sparse, and anxiety flares in your stomach, unexpected, and you press a hand to your racing heart, willing it to slow. Your pulse is erratic and you realize you’re nervous.

“Woah, talk to me,” Seokmin pleads again, sitting up. His fingers around your wrist are soft, like all of him, and it eases the sudden ache in your chest, even if just a little. You place your other hand on top of his, stroking your thumb over his knuckles. 

Your voice is hoarse. “Just nervous. I don’t know why—it’s so silly.” 

And then Seokmin is there, tucking you into his arms and his nose in your hair, swaying as he holds you for a moment. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You know that.” 

You frown, pushing away from his chest. “No–no, I want this. Just–had a moment, but I’m ok.” You lean your forehead on his shoulder again. “I’m always ok when I’m with you.” The quiet presses in on your ears. The incessant buzzing in your fingertips fades to the background, slowing to the steady rhythm of Seokmin’s heartbeat in his chest—reliable as always, a constant you had come to memorize like the spots on his face. 

“I’m right here, baby,” he whispers against your temple. “Whatever you want.”

The soft glow from the street lamps outside illuminate his features in a tranquil yellow hue. He looks angelic, always so gentle and willing, that it sucks the remaining air out of your lungs. 

He settles back on the edge of bed, hands resting on your hips as he gazes up at you with adoration so tangible it makes your heart ache. You run your fingers gently through his hair, pushing the dark strands off his forehead and trace the shape of his profile with your pointer finger, down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, pausing over his waiting lips, down his chin until you grasp it in between your thumb and forefinger. 

“You’re beautiful, too, you know?” you say, voice soft. And Seokmin smiles, pleased, and it lights up his whole face, sending a bolt of warmth down your throat like lightning. The crashing waves of the ocean are muffled under the sound of your heart in your ears. Seokmin is quiet, arms tight around your waist. Had it not been for the pulsing rhythm in your body, this might have been a tender moment—but the heat is still there, prodding in your stomach, building, smoldering, aching. 

You want him. Bad.

With a noise of impatience, you pull his face back towards yours, curving your body to pull him in, kissing him longingly, hoping he’ll sense the desperation growing in your stomach, understand the way you need to feel him under and over and inside you. Seokmin reads you like the back of his hand—senses the tension in your shoulders—and knows that if he uses his mouth just right your last remaining shred of self-control will snap.

He pulls at the rest of the buttons on your blouse with agonizing restraint, kissing every inch of skin revealed with painstaking deference. His mouth trails down your sternum, pausing as he listens to the quiet exhales that leave your mouth. The skin on your stomach is sensitive to his touch, and you bite back a few nervous giggles as Seokmin ghosts his lips just down to where the waistband of your skirt rests on your hips. His thumbs dig into the skin there, and he peers up at you, eyes sparkling mischievously. Asking for permission. You nod, breath shallow in your throat.

“Should be on my knees for a princess,” your fiancé murmurs lowly, dropping to his knees in front of you. What had been a steady flame in your gut erupts into a hunger so strong it might consume you from the inside out. Your mouth goes dry as he gentle pulls you down to the mattress, urging you to sit. 

In the same tender manner, Seokmin lifts the sole of your foot to his lips, eyes darkening as your breath quickens yet. His breath fans across your bare skin, up your ankles and your shin, before he pauses to press a hot kiss to the inside of your knee, teeth digging into the soft skin there. The static in your ears increases tenfold as his other hand pushes the hem of your skirt up to your waist. Seokmin’s mouth continues upward, stopping on the supple skin of the inside of your thighs. Hunger gnaws at your insides by now, and you tense your stomach in anticipation. Seokmin’s pupils are blown wide—impossibly dark as he takes you in—forcing you backwards, his mouth hovering just over the fabric in between you and complete bareness. Your breath quickens—waiting, waiting, waiting—as Seokmin’s tongue trails from the inside of your knee right to where your thigh pools at your hip. 

And then, with a dazed smirk, he sets your foot down—not on the floor—but gently over the bulge in his pants. Seokmin leans forward ever so slightly, eyes daring. Already he’s so hard, even under his trousers and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from falling apart right there.

“See what you do to me?” he rasps, breath hitching as you press your foot down—just a little—to feel him so vulnerable under you. Your panties are soaked by now—it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all. Seeing Seokmin like this, shirt unbuttoned to his stomach, hair still styled so nicely, lips parted with desire; you want him like this, now, all the time. 

“Seokmin–fuck–” you choke, the words ripped from your mouth as you feel his tongue, wet and hot over your panties. Seokmin tosses one of your feet over his shoulder as he wraps his fingers in the waistband, pulling your panties taut. The ability to control yourself is lost. You curve into his touch as Seokmin gently pulls your panties aside, and presses one last reverent kiss to the inside of your hip.  

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, breath fanning across your skin, “always so beautiful for me.” Then his mouth is on you, open-mouthed and scorching on your cunt, the tip of his tongue circling around your clit, tasting every part of you. You clench your fists into the sheets, gasping for air as he wraps his strong arms around your thighs to pin you down. Even still, you squirm away from his mouth, hands pushing at his head as he sends you to cloud nine. His eyes are searing even behind closed eyelids as he drinks your pleasure, watching in rapture. 

Seokmin’s voice is almost inaudible over the thrum of your heart in your ears. “You like the way I worship you, baby?”

“Yes, please, yes, oh my god, Seokmin, please,” you plead, lurching upwards to curl around his head as a particularly powerful bolt of pleasure rushes through your body. He’s ruthless, nails biting into your thighs as you writhe in pleasure, nose bumping against your clit, mouth planted firmly on your pussy as your cries become higher and more desperate. It builds and builds and builds, a rope in your gut stretching and pulling until you feel like you might snap in half. The pleasure mounts as Seokmin crudely licks his tongue up your cunt, pressed flat against your skin and you release a strangled groan, fingers knotting in his hair.

“S–Seokmin, I’m—” you gasp, body tensed in anticipation.

And then he leans back, and your release fades as quickly as it appeared. Your body aches uncomfortably. The mattress sinks down on either side of you as he braces his hands by your head. Seokmin grins, tucking a few pieces of hair gently behind your ear, dragging your mouth open with his thumb once more to push his tongue past your lips. He tastes like you and he moans as you pull him in by the back of his neck, kissing him fiercely.

“You’re a dick,” you protest, shoving his shoulder. Seokmin’s smile is tender, his cheeks flushed despite his actions just moments ago. 

“Hey,” he says in between kisses to your collarbone that stifle the feeble protests spewing from your mouth, “I don’t wanna go too fast.” 

You groan weakly, as he shifts his knee in between your thighs. He wraps his fingers around one of your ankles, lifting it up onto his hip. 

“But I wanna feel you,” you complain, looping your arms around his neck as if to urge him on. But Seokmin just shakes his head, grinning. His leg shifts again, pressing against the ache in between your thighs and you instinctively roll your hips, mouth dropping open at the touch. He places a large hand on your pelvis, pinning you to the bed.

“I’m taking my time with you,” he says against your mouth, smiling as you sag onto the bed. 

He wanted to fuck slow.

And he does, touching you with feather-light pressure, building your frustration and anticipation until you’re a sweating, panting, desperate disaster in his hands—and only then does Seokmin let you feverishly remove the rest of his clothes. The desire to feel him, see him, taste him has grown so vicious you might cry. He perches on the edge of the bed again, and with shaking hands you jerk the rest of his shirt off his broad shoulders, scraping your nails down his chest to the belt at his waist. You’ve always loved Seokmin’s body—its strong, lithe build, all toned and smooth. Seokmin curses under his breath, tossing his head back in pleasure as you kiss along his jaw and down his torso. The muscles in his stomach tense under your touch, pulled taut as your lips reach his hips again. Slowly, you undo the button on his trousers, all the while keeping burning eye contact. You want Seokmin to see how much you need him. 

“Let me touch you,” you whisper against his abdomen, waiting for the desperate nod, before your fingers slip under the waistband of his briefs to finally take him in your hand. Seokmin moans low and you moan with him, imagining when he would finally let you take him, how he would stretch you out, and you’d finally feel all of him. 

You pull your hand back to spit, making sure to keep your eyes on him as you do, before wrapping your fingers around his length again. Seokmin’s voice is choked in his throat as you run your hand up and down his entire shaft, taking care to twist your fist around the base of his cock, delicately trailing up and around the head, soaking up every breathy sound of satisfaction that leaves Seokmin’s lips. 

With palpable restlessness, you yank the rest of Seokmin’s clothes off, straddling him on the edge of the bed again. He feels the damp fabric of your panties against his thigh and groans, his fingers knitting into your hair to kiss you again, feverish and wanting. You grind down, feeling his cock hard against your pussy and laugh weakly—except it sticks in your throat as Seokmin’s nails dig into your hip, dragging your cunt down his length again. 

“You want me so bad, don’t you?” Seokmin goads, hand holding the back of your head as you roll your hips up and down his length with increasing desperation. Your nails dig into his chest. He pulls your panties to the side, eyes fluttering closed as your arousal slides over his skin. The heat of the room muddles your brain, heightening every sensation. You’re already so wet, needy and willing to do anything to make the tightness in your stomach go away. “Want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Please–” you beg, “need you. Seokmin–”

His lips are crushing, destroying any semblance of thought you might have had. 

“Go ahead, princess,” Seokmin groans, as you pull your panties to the side, sliding two fingers into yourself and using your arousal to lubricate his cock again. The weight of Seokmin’s cock in your hand, the sound of your fingers sliding down the length is enough to have you weak in the knees. Seokmin’s hands splay across your back, propping you up as you line up his cock with your entrance. 

Your fiancé has always been a romantic, and this time is no different as Seokmin kisses you, open mouth waiting to breathe in your needy moans as you slowly sink down onto his cock. In your agitation, it’s still tight, extracting a few hisses of discomfort out of you. But Seokmin is there, soothing you with quiet shushes against your lips, thumbs stroking your cheeks as you take him all the way. He stretches you out, nice and slow, drawing the air from your lungs. 

There you go, that’s my girl. You’re doing so well, baby.

His praise rolls over you like late afternoon sunlight, settling in your chest until you feel lightheaded—the love in your chest is too much to take. It feels more intimate than usual, being nose to nose with Seokmin like this, seeing every emotion flicker in his eyes, feeling his breath fan over your face as he pants. You comb your fingers through his hair and cup his face in your hands, as the fluttery, panicky desperation for a hold on reality reappears in your chest again. You gasp as Seokmin shifts farther onto the bed, nails biting into his scalp as he pulls you closer.

He can surely feel the supersonic pace of your heart against his chest and he shushes you gently, pressing his lips against your sternum.

“I–I just need you to relax, sweetheart,” you hear him murmur in your daze, hands running up and down your spine. “Just a little more.” 

You nod, eyes squeezes shut as you try to swallow the trepidation in your stomach. Seokmin takes it all with grace; his voice is like honey in your ear, sticky and sweet, whispering soft reassurances. Seokmin’s love can be so strong—even after all this time—that it overwhelms you, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless. You’re not used to the devotion that even now, it sometimes takes a little to get used to, so you tuck your nose in the crook of his neck. The smell of sunshine still sticks to his skin, like a moth to a flame. 

“Baby, are you still with me?” Seokmin asks, forefinger petting your cheek. “Hm?”

You nod wordlessly, breathing deeply while Seokmin watches, attentive, until you’ve finally taken all of him. Seokmin bottoms out with a strangled groan, and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, chest stuttering as you roll your hips with impatience. Even then, it’s still too much right away and you freeze, gasping for breath. 

“Hey,” Seokmin says, holding your face in his hands, “we have all night. Take it slow.”

“I know I just—ah–” you whine, stubborn, as you roll your hips again—ignoring the vague hesitancy in your stomach—this time relishing in the dull ache in between your legs, feeling the stretch and pull as Seokmin coaxes your hips into a lazy rhythm. He watches closely, mapping out your body with his hands, leaving you out of breath and hazy in the head. You throw your head back as he kisses your exposed throat, mouth hot over your skin. 

Seokmin rests his hand at the base of your throat—not quite squeezing—and leaves it there. The possessive glint in his eyes is enough to say you are mine. Mine. The thought alone is enough to have you falling into his touch. 

Mine.

Mine.

He slips the other hand lower, using his thumb to rub circles around your clit, persuading languorous moans from your mouth, watching you with sordid fascination as you respond to his every touch. You brace your hand on his knee, brow furrowing as the pleasure in your core molds into shape. It’s hot and heavy, radiating so strongly it makes your arm shake.

“Just like–that,” you whine, nails digging into Seokmin’s thigh as he fucks into you slow, gripping your ass so hard you know it’ll leave marks. He curses as you clench around his cock, urging him to go faster. But Seokmin is, and always has been, more patient than you, and he grins slowly, even through heavy-lidded eyes clouded with lust, gripping your hips tight enough to still your movement. 

“What did I say?” he challenges, lips hovering millimeters over yours. You frown, protests falling on deaf ears, as he leans in closer. His lips brush yours as he whispers, “Go. Slow.”

So you try, rolling your hips, grinding down on his cock until you think you might die, until your restlessness is as tangible as the arousal dripping onto Seokmin’s thighs. He fluctuates between playing with your clit–just until you’re on the verge of release—and waiting, just long enough to keep the buzz in your body at bay. Your knees ache as you hold yourself up, feeling Seokmin’s cock slide and and out, his hands in your hair and on your ass. He edges you, daring you to come first each time you whimper you’re close, waiting until the shaking in your fingers stops just for him to continue. 

You’ve never been a crier, but after twenty minutes of this, you’re certain that even a slight breeze would cause you to come undone. Seokmin’s cock rests deep inside to the hilt, his mouth is on your skin, and you know that if he moves, you’ll come harder than you ever have before. 

“Baby, please,” you beg, hips jerking at every slight movement, “please–”

Seokmin smiles, and even just the sight of his pretty teeth have the tears you’ve been holding back, rolling down your cheeks like two big fat admissions of defeat. You suck in a breath as Seokmin lifts you off his cock, dropping you onto your back on the mattress. He places one of your ankles over his shoulder, pressing you down by the back of your thigh as you toss the other around his waist. 

The sounds coming from your mouth are less than human as Seokmin runs his fingers through your arousal again, placating your whines with his lips. You feel like you’re about to snap. 

“Seokmin, fuck me.” It sounds so ridiculous coming from your mouth you think you might cry again, but the thought is shoved away as Seokmin slaps his cock against your needy cunt a few times, pulling more animalistic cries from your throat. 

“Soon, pet,” he grins, and then his cock is pushing into you again, his fingers on your clit, his eyes dark and earnest as your whole body tenses in his arms. 

Your nails claw into his skin and he hisses, brow furrowed, as you drag them down his back with uncharacteristic force, but the thought of his beautiful back marked by your torment only feeds the fire in your belly. You arch your spine, pressing into him as Seokmin draws his cock back out, still much slower than you would like. He’s just winding you up at this point, seeing just how far you’re breaking point is.

Seokmin tuts, simpering as you pant deliriously under him. He leans down, brushing his lips over your cheekbone to rest his forehead against yours. You groan impatiently. 

“Patience, lamb,” Seokmin urges, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, and you frown like a petulant child. Your protests are quickly silenced as he moves, pushing into you with little urgency, pulling back out with agonizing slowness, relishing in the tiny sounds escaping your tightly clamped lips. His strokes are languid as he holds you close to his body. Sometimes it feels like a challenge, to see how long you can go without indulging Seokmin, but today every sensation is amplified tenfold—the smell of his hair, the feeling of his skin, his fingers on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock deep inside. He holds your head in between his hands, petting your hair when you tense, whispering sweet words against your skin. 

“Look at me, baby,” Seokmin murmurs, brushing the hair off your forehead. Your pry your eyes open, resisting every impulse to squeeze them shut again as Seokmin pushes into you again, this time with more heat, feeling the burn in his own body increase as you brace yourself against his shoulders. His strokes are long and deep, barely a second apart before he drives back into you to the hilt, swimming in the crude sounds of skin against skin. A chorus of moans fills the room as Seokmin finally fucks you into subspace, your head going foggy with pleasure. The sounds leaving your mouth are barely coherent—just a messy jumble of garbled syllables. Seokmin is unrelenting. His stomach is tense with the effort it takes to keep up his pace. You’ve all but given up on keeping your eyes open, instead falling openly into the pleasure that builds in your gut again. 

Good girl. Just a little more, I promise. Look at you, so beautiful like this. Just like that.

Good girl. 

My girl.

You want to hold on. You want to hold on as long as possible. But Seokmin’s praise washes over you like the tide, saccharine and familiar, so you come again and again, feeling insurmountable pleasure pulse through your body—white-hot and blinding—so intense it leaves you breathless and weak, as Seokmin’s voice continues to flit in and out of focus. 

“God!” you plead, as an orgasm so powerful it rips your voice from your throat tears through you. Your nails bite crescents into your fiancé’s shoulders, and you jolt upward to kiss Seokmin feverishly, fingers carding desperately through his hair as he fucks you through your high. 

“Where–” Seokmin stutters, jaw clenched.

So you breathe, “In me,” and Seokmin groans long and low, as he comes undone, his release hot inside you, fingers searching for yours as he heaves. His hand is clammy and you smooth your other over his cheek, thumb skating over his cheekbone. Seokmin looks ragged, hair fucked and messy, lip bleeding from where you bit him in a fit of passion. He kisses you again, hungry and desperate as if the last forty minutes hadn’t been enough of you for him. Then he pulls out slowly, frowning apologetically as you wince in discomfort. He sets your foot back on the bed, before pressing one last, sweet kiss to your pelvis. You feel fucked raw, sensitive from all that the two of you had done.

Seokmin always ravishes you like it’s the first time he gets to hold you, taking his time until the bedsheets are tangled around your limbs and you’re both utterly spent. He loves you deep into the night, until the sun threatens to peek over the horizon. The dreamy cerulean color of the sky tells you it’s far too late for you to be awake. The street noise below has become all but mute, as the townspeople slumber peacefully in their homes. It’s the birdsong that pulls you from your reverie, still bleary-eyed and a little limp, so sudden you place your palms flat on Seokmin’s chest and stare at him in disbelief. He hums in acknowledgment, stirring from his place at your side. 

“What time is it?” you rasp, voice hoarse from use. 

Seokmin groans, reaching for his phone and murmurs, “Almost 4:30.” 

Your eyes open a few more centimeters. “It’s been—it’s been all night.” 

Your fiancé flashes his usual heartbreaking smile. “I know,” he says, and groans as he turns onto his side to look at you, “but I just wanted to be with you.” He tucks his arm under his head, reaching out a hand to run his thumb over your bottom lip. You kiss the pad of his thumb, leaning into his touch. “I love you.”

It always feels like a promise coming from his lips.

You flop back onto the bed, wincing at the twinge in your ass and roll over onto your stomach, tucking your chin over your folded hands. The Spanish coast is quiet, and for a while it’s just you and the ocean and the intimate sounds of Seokmin’s even breathing as he falls back asleep.

The next thing you feel are his lips on the base of your spine, and the early afternoon sun in your eyes. You blink groggily, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand as Seokmin kisses up your back. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and you wrap yourself in the top sheet, smiling sweetly as Seokmin leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“Good morning,” he murmurs, and rolls off the bed—still naked—over to the small kitchenette. “Coffee?”

You lift your arms high over your head, stretching until your muscles feel sore and limber, sighing deeply. “Mm, please.” Seokmin nods and grabs two espresso cups from the cupboard. 

From your spot on the bed, you settle back, admiring the view of your beautifully sculpted fiancé preparing morning coffee. He’s started working out again, and you see the smooth muscles across his back flex as he stretches. Your eyes trace the graceful curve of his spine to his narrow hips and you flush, stifling a nervous giggle. Even making coffee while butt-naked, Seokmin exudes an easy confidence that sets you at peace, the slope of his shoulders relaxed as he waits for the espresso to finish brewing. The aroma of coffee curls into the air and you smile to yourself, tucking your chin into the palm of your hand. How did you get to be so lucky? 

Seokmin catches you staring and breaks you from your trance by kissing your temple, holding a small espresso in his hand. 

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes glinting with amusement. You tilt your head and just nod, scooting so he can join you on the bed again and press a kiss to his bare shoulder. Seokmin still smells like his sunscreen. He squeezes your thigh again, gazing wordlessly over the balcony at the coastline. It’s picturesque—nothing exists beyond this hotel room except for you and him. 

The espresso is warm in your hands, but Seokmin’s body is warmer. 

You’ll never be cold again. 

--

check out my other stuff! :)

[natty1730]

Chapter 0 : The Playlist

🫀dinner and diatribes🫀

1.) Harpy Hare by Yaelokre

2.) Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier

3.) Eat Your Young by Hozier

4.) It will come back by Hozier

5.) Our Love by Curtis Harding and Jazmine Sullivan

7.) Take me to church by Hozier

8.) If I kill someone for you by Alec Benjamin

9.) Me and the Devil by Soap & Skin

10.) Lunch by Billie Eilish

11.) A little Dead by the neighborhood

12.) You got the devil in you by red means run

13.)hell is around the corner by tricky and Martina Topley-Bird

14.) Bury a friend by Billie Eilish

15.) Family Tree by Ethel Cain

16.) Body by Mother Mother

17.) How by Florence + The Machine

18.) eat me alive by alessi rose

19.) W.D.Y.W.F.M by the neighborhood

20.) Meat is Murder by the smiths

21.) always forever by cults

22.) Ballad of a homeschooled girl by Olivia Rodrigo

23.) Love Crime by Siouxie

24.) Strawberry Shortcake by Melanie Martinez

25.) Hey Bunny by Baby bugs

26.) Monster by dodie

27.) Bunny,Bunny, Bunny by The golden orchestra

28.) Daddy L’il girl by bikini kill

29.) My Kind of women by Mac DeMarco

30.) Animal by Sir Chloe

31.) Sweet Creature by Harry Styles

32.) She by dobie

33.) Flowers in your hair by The Lumineers

34.) Love is complicated by Labrinth (Angel sing)

35.) Runaway by Aurora

36.) Strawberry Blond by Mitski

37.) Sweet by cigarettes after sex

38.) Lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid

39.) Not about angels by birdy

40.) First love/last spring by Mitski

41.) Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo

42.) Just a girl by Florence + The machine

43.) Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

44.) I need my girl by Aly and AJ

45.) Rabbit Heart by Florence + The machine

46.) Sad Beautiful Tragic by Taylor Swift

47.) Linger by The Cranberries

48.) Strangers by Ethel Cain

49.) I know the end by phoebe bridgers

50.) Angel of small death and cocaine scene by Hozier

51.) Not strong enough by boy genius, Julien baker

52.) How I get myself killed by Indigo De Souza

53.) A pearl by Mitski

54.) Abbey by Mitski

55.) Shrike by Hozier

56.) girl in New York by role model

57.) Flowers by Hadestown

58.) Ophelia by the Lumineers

59.) Cannibal by Kesha

60.)Cannibal Queen by Miniature Tigers

61.) Teeth by 5 seconds of summer

62.) Runs in the family by Amanda Palmer

63.) happiness is a butterfly by Lana Del Rey

64.) Gone, I’m gone by hadestown

65.) Messy by Lola Young

65.) Bach Goldberg Variation Aria Pt 1 by Brian Reitzell

66.) Butal by Olivia Rodrigo

67.) Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake, Op. 20 Act 2: No.10, scene.Moderato

68.) III Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy

69.) Le Jardin Feerique from Ma Mere L’oye by Valeria Szervanszky

70.) The Carnival of the Animal, R. 125 : XIII. The Swan

71.) Vivaldi Storm by Antonio Vivaldi, 2 CELLOS

[lasraicesdelsaber]

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¡Bienvenidos a mi blog!

Bienvenidos a mi blog sobre epistemología positiva, un espacio dedicado a explorar cómo construimos conocimientos de una manera más optimista y constructiva. ¡Acompáñenme en este jardín de aprendizajes positivos! 🍄

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˚★ @lasraicesdelsaber

[hunty627]

I just adore listening to the song known as the four seasons: spring, written by Antonio Vivaldi.

[voidsentprinces]

Good evening...this is part of the Spring section of The Four Seasons by Antonio Vivaldi

Classical pieces don’t exactly have lyrics, so I thought I’d post some pieces and make a poll to help this super niche set of people maybe find the music they have been looking for one day.

You might know the Spring section from car commercials, its usually where I've heard it most placed. But, an additional fun piece of Antonio Vivaldi's work with The Four Seasons is he didn't just set out to write a piece of music. He also set a story to them, writing poems to set the scene for each part of his musical piece, to paint a picture for his listening audience.

For the Spring piece, his poem is thus:

Festive Spring has arrived, The birds salute it with their happy song. And the brooks, caressed by little Zephyrs, Flow with a sweet murmur. The sky is covered with a black mantle, And thunder, and lightning, announce a storm. When they are silent, the birds Return to sing their lovely song. And in the meadow, rich with flowers, To the sweet murmur of leaves and plants, The goatherd sleeps, with his faithful dog at his side. To the festive sound of pastoral bagpipes, Dance nymphs and shepherds, At Spring's brilliant appearance.

[th3-0bjectivist]

Dear listener, I tried listening to six full hours of mainstream radio this week again. I tried, oh, sweet merciful Jesus, I tried. Lo, I have at this point all but confirmed that modern radio is a steaming pool of liquid dogshit. Given a second appraisal, it’s dogshit with a candy-coated hardshell for ease of ingestion! The disheartening repetition, the complete lack of cutting-edge creativity and genuine emotion, ten to twenty ass-ramming commercials in a row only to come back to the feckless frenzy of fail that comprises the vast, vast majority of modern music? It was all terribly grating, and somehow the music was even worse. As soon as I couldn’t take a millisecond more of the doldrums of modern radio, I went to YouTube and listened to two straight and comparatively blissful hours of immortal work by Antonio Vivaldi. So, get into the time machine again with me dear listener, and set course for the early 1700’s, a time when radio didn't exist! The social standards might not have been top-notch, but the powdered wigs were undeniably gorgeous, and the quality of the music… to die for!!!

As anyone who comes from a musical family has likely experienced, Vivaldi had the principles of composition fused to his DNA, and perhaps even down to the subatomic level with the help of his father. Having trained for priesthood in his early years, Vivaldi instead gradually gravitated toward a now celebrated career in music. Becoming an elite level violinist under the tutelage of his father Giovanni Battista, whom he regularly toured Venice and played duelling violins with, this legend of orchestra developed an immense capacity for transforming the basics of music into something so immensely interwoven and sublime that very few can or will ever dare so much as approach the legitimate majesty of his body of orchestral work. Known as something of an Italian religious dogmatist, his calling to the church and desire to be a priest secured him the nickname ‘Il Prete Rosso’ (The Red Priest) because he was a ginger, or in modern politically correct parlance… a natural red head. During a three-decade long gig serving as Master of Violin at an historical Vincentian orphanage, Ospedale della Pietà, Vivaldi managed to gather inspiration and organize his most emotionally powerful compositions. I could probably add a lot of unnecessary details here, but his greatest and most everlasting works are part of his ‘The Four Seasons’, a set of four violin concertos that are meant to express nearly the precise sensations and emotions of summer, winter, autumn, and spring. If you smash play on the above track you will be treated to Presto (from the Summer section), a song you probably know or have heard before. Presto means ‘quickly’ in Italian and is performed at one of the quickest speeds a human can possibly play music (second only to prestissimo speed, I think). Vivaldi also had a strange disease throughout all his life which many historians suspect might have been severe asthma. And with his penchant for taking numerous ‘leaves of absences’ to tour the world and develop an international reputation, this clearly mega-talented rockstar of yester-century ended up spending all the money he earned during his lifetime. Sadly, after approaching the end of his life and skidding through a decade’s worth of career decline, all accounts show that he died completely broke, having spent what little money he had left on multiple assistants that circumnavigated him through his now dire and at the time completely untreatable health issues. Vivaldi isn’t my personal favorite composer of all-time, I’ll leave that distinction to Bach (who himself was inspired by Vivaldi). But his works live on to this very day because he accomplished exactly what he strove to do; embody the excellence of execution in his craft to produce works that bring us together as human beings and sometimes inspire a rare spark of imagination to propel us to create the very best work we can possibly bring forth.

Right above this paragraph is a live variation of The Four Seasons, a classic musical work of art and transcendent beauty that I cannot recommend highly enough. Vivaldi sure did one thing that modern, corporately funded, concentrated and even desperate bands just can’t… and that is actually innovate. He had immense natural technical skills, had them brought to bloom by his family and his own efforts, and he ended up creating over 500 instrumental and choral works, plus about 40 operas. Have *you* created 500 instrumental and choral works and 40 operas!? Didn’t think so. So, get to work on that! And join me next time for some jaunty Brahms. Image source: https://www.craiyon.com/image/dPwZA5VRRTawSH1T9Sslcw