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cherryslyce · 11 months

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The Avarice Files (III) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Boundless uncertainty ensues when you’re tasked to complete a mission requiring time travel for the Ministry. The best part? Your partner, acclaimed hero of the Great Wizarding War, Regulus Black, a man who was supposed to be long dead.

— Chapter Synopsis: A confrontation ensues and Regulus provides enlightening truths.

Part II / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Exactly 5.2k words. Apologies for the wait!

Every fiber of muscle in your body draws taut with primal fear, adrenaline bleeding into your senses as you stare at the wand pointed at you. Despite the physiological distress surging through your being, your face slackens into an unimpressed scowl. The mystery man sneers at you and emphatically jabs his wand toward you, eyes narrowing further. “I said, who the hell are you?”

“And what the hell are you saying?” You cross your arms, eyebrows drawing together as you steadily hold his gaze.

The man faintly lowers his wand, beginning to circle around you with an intrigued gaze. “Fascinating. You really have not done your research.” A derisive chuckle crackles into the stiff air as your eyes find him again.

Even if you could, there was no use trying to convince the man, you couldn’t leave any witnesses anyway. Spinning on your heel, you frown and move across the room toward the bar, snatching a decanter containing amber liquid and a whiskey glass from the shelves. “How insulting.”

Your musing has the man raising his eyebrow, wand dropping to his side as he cautiously watches you. “Insulting?” He echoes, voice tinted with unadulterated curiosity. The change in his demeanor has you sniffing into the air as you pour yourself a glass.

“Yes. To be confronted by someone like you of all people.” You hum, taking a sip of the alcohol. Scotch.

Tipping back the rest of the drink into your mouth, you slam the glass onto the polished bar and smile caustically at the man. Slipping your wand into your hand, and concealing your movements behind the wide bar, you tilt your head and hum out to him in your normal voice, “Who are you anyway?”

“Henry Mulciber.” The man’s knuckles whiten as a triumphant grin mars his face, “Decent accent, by the way. Pity that you couldn’t fool me, hm?”

“I’ll give credit where it’s due. How’d you know?” You ask with light curiosity, running your thumb along the handle of your wand.

A chuckle slips past his lip, “Asking to move to private quarters? My dove could have cared less about being found out.” He twirls his wand and gives you a look of deep consideration. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you too bad. I’ll let Clyde decide what to do with you, you did break into his home after all.”

“Charming,” you snark back, licking your lips as you discreetly cast a silencio over the room. “But apologies, you know how business can be.” You smile cryptically at him, momentarily relishing in the confused look that flashes across his gaze. Before he can retort, your hand flies over the counter and the words are streaming from your mouth in a flat mutter, “Petrificus Totalus.”

To your dismay, Mulciber manages to duck quick enough to avoid your jinx, the spell missing him by a hair’s length. The man flies up from his crouch not a second later and has you taking cover as his arm snaps towards you, a reverberating Crucio spewing from his mouth cruelly.

The red bolt crashes into the shelf behind you, splintering the mahogany wood and sprinkling the floor around you with pins of polished red. You grit your teeth and swiftly shuffle to the end of the bar, leaping up from your new spot as you throw a potent reducto at the glass coffee table beside him. The thick panes burst into the air in shimmering fragments before evanescing as they flee the light of the chandelier. Mulciber instinctively raises his arm to guard his face as his body tilts away from the destruction.

“Incarcerous!” You grit out, rounding out of the bar as the spell knocks the man off his feet, his body crashing into the glass-strewn floor with a resounding thud. The binds around him tighten as he begins to wiggle and grunt, but just as you point your wand at him again, the door bursts open.

Your head snaps up in shock as you peer at the intruder, breathing out a sigh of relief when you see Regulus with a deep purple tome tucked by his side. “Dear merlin. You’re finally here. I may have made an error in judgment.”

Regulus goes to say something, eyes wide with disbelief as he takes in the scene, but he is interrupted by a strangled yell from Mulciber. “Diffindo!”

The orange beam shoots toward your neck and you feel your entire soul evaporate away before a thundering stench of impending death wraps itself around your body. Throwing yourself away from the approaching cutting spell, you grunt out as it slices through the muscles of your shoulder.

Molten pain erupts from the flowing laceration, warm blood pouring down your attire as you feel a biting chill drip down your spine and to your toes. Regulus flies from the doorway and toward Mulciber’s body just as a million tingling needles settle down your arm. Assessing your injury, you nearly reel back in shock as you see red everywhere. The spell probably severed a few ligaments—and Merlin, is that your bloody bone?

You pay no mind as you hear a loud grunt from in front of you. Regulus could be kicking in the man’s face for all you know, but you are too enraptured by the sight of whatever was left of your shoulder.

Another day at work, another injury.

Huffing, you raise your eyes just in time to see Regulus releasing the binds from an unconscious Mulciber. “Thanks.” You mutter, moving your gaze to fixate on the artifact that was now lying on one of the lounge chairs. It was emitting a faint pulse of magic that whispered indecipherable promises through your head, causing you to step back in wonderment.

Definitely not an ordinary artifact.

Regulus maneuvers Mulciber from the floor, propping him up on the opposite chair before turning to face you. “You’re bleeding.”

“Astute observation.” You huff out, grunting when Regulus gently pushes you to sit down by the tome with your good shoulder.

He lifts his wand up to the wound, muttering a quiet Vulnera Sanentur under his breath and only releasing a pleased hum when your wound begins to heal under the coat of your blood. “You handled it well.” He swiftly follows up his words by repairing the tear through your sleeve.

You smile wobbly at the man and sink into the cushions behind you. “I’m surprised as well. You’re good with healing spells, do you get hurt a lot?” Your curious eyes flicker from the tome beside you to Regulus as he holsters his wand.

“Not too badly anymore.” He grunts, turning to face the unconscious man across from you. You both grimace as a trail of drool slides down his chin, hair now resembling disheveled foliage as his head tips awkwardly onto his shoulder.

Gently rolling your newly healed shoulder, you get up and prop a hand on your hip, shaking your head in amusement at the sight. “Oh how the mighty have fallen so.”

Regulus shakes his head, but you can see the inkling of a self-satisfied smirk on his face. You walk over to the obliterated shelves and search for any surviving bottles of alcohol, bringing your wand up to repair the mess. “Reg, can you undo his collar a bit?”

You huff as you clear the mess of glass fragments and spilt alcohol, eyes frantically scouring over the never ending mess.

“Aha.” You mutter to yourself, wrangling a hefty wine bottle from a lower cabinet. Regulus complies with your previous request wordlessly, only offering a look of bemusement when you wander back over with the bottle and a glass.

“Oh. You fixed it.” You falter in your steps as you see the glass table sitting spotless in its original spot.

“Are we toasting?” He quietly hums, standing back as you crack open the bottle.

“Not quite, maybe later.” You reply, pouring the wine into the cup. Pushing the glass in front of Mulciber’s unconscious body, you pull your wand out and dispel the rest of the wine from the bottle.

Putting the empty bottle in Mulciber’s slack hand, you turn to look at Regulus with a proud grin. “Do you want to do the honors of waking him up?”

“Sure.” Regulus says, raising his eyebrows at your elaborate set up. The man shuffles by you before raising his wand up and casting a swift Rennervate. You ready your wand as Mulciber’s eyes fly open in panic, pupils darting from side-to-side before they settle on you both.

You were sure that if he had the energy, he’d be frothing at the mouth. “You!—”

Before he can continue, you point your wand at his sluggish figure, “Obliviate.” You channel all your magical energy into ensuring that any suspicion of your infiltration and duel is wiped clean from his memory. The man slumps back down in a daze and Regulus gives a low huff as Mulciber’s expression droops with a glassy-eyed look.

“Best we get going then.” You mumble, beginning to retreat from the room as Regulus strides after you with the file. “Does this place have a back door or something?”

Regulus takes another once over of the room to check for missed damage before shutting the door behind him with a small exhale. “Yeah, we should hurry before the potion wears off.”

“My joints are tingling a bit.” You quietly confirm, falling back to let Regulus lead you through the maze of hallways.

The winding corridors eventually come to an end once Regulus locates a narrow entryway seemingly at the end of the west wing. The walls are noticeably less vibrant, with a haze of dust dimming the atmosphere around you. Regulus continues forward through the slim doorway, turning to peer at you once he steps through. “Watch your step, these stairs are a bit worn.”

Mutely nodding, you both swiftly descend down the stairwell until you step onto a small landing between two sturdy green doors. Regulus deftly twists the right door open, cautiously peering through the crack before swinging it open for you.

You have to squint as you make your way through, the bright light of the daytime sky stinging at your eyes as your shoes crunch against the verdant grass. “Where did the other door lead to?” You ask smally once Regulus falls into step beside you.

“The kitchen.” Regulus mutters, sighing once you both near the wards, likely tired of the repetitive process.

You pull out your wand and perform the interception charm again, feeling a shiver vibrate across your body as the Polyjuice Potion in your system nears the end of its life. Regulus waits for you to step through and into the edge of the forest before he continues behind you, “I’ll go fetch those two.”

He hands you the file before disappearing into the dense forestry with one last glance toward you, beginning to undo his overcoat as his body starts to morph back. You clear your throat and make your way over to the tree hollow, relieved to see that your bag is still tucked away inside the inky pocket.

As you haul the woven bag out, the sound of heavy footsteps echoes toward you, indicating that Regulus had arrived with the two stunned Italians. Turning around, you smile faintly as Regulus hurries over, the two bodies resting along his shoulders swaying as he carefully lowers them to the ground.

You begin to pull out all of your clothes, remembering to be careful with Regulus’ mask as your fingers graze against its hard surface. The next few minutes are painted with a busy silence as you both work to tear off your outfits before you both completely transform back, a mutual understanding blossoming as you both turn away from each other to get situated.

“Are you decent?” You ask awkwardly, relief sinking into your muscles as you adjust to your familiar robes.

“Yeah.” Regulus replies back, his cadence indicating that he had already put his mask back into place.

You turn around and step toward the two limp bodies between you both, placing the formal wear down beside their feet just as Regulus slowly spins on his heel. “I can do it.” His soft mutter has you agreeing easily, opting to instead move away to place the retrieved file into your bag. Just as you close the opening of the bag, Regulus’ wordless Rennervate has the body beside your feet twitching before you see his eyes slowly peel open, eyebrows furrowing from the light. Before he has the opportunity to regain awareness, you watch as Regulus raises his wand again.

“Imperio,” He firmly commands, one hand tucked away inside his robe pocket, as if his actions were the most casual thing in the world. The man’s eyes glaze over immediately before a milky fog stirs across his iris and pupils as he awaits Regulus’ commands. “Get dressed, head back inside using the back door, and grab yourself a couple of drinks.”

Like a doll being maneuvered by strings, the man silently complies with stiff movements and unwavering precision in his task. Regulus barely bats an eye before repeating the same process with the second victim, watching as they both slowly rise up and walk out of the small clearing and toward the door you both exited from.

“One file down, two more to go.” You huff out with a tired smile, fiddling with the chain of the time turner.

Regulus nods quietly and strides toward you, throwing the chain around him before releasing a patient hum as you continue to turn the handle of the device. Lifting your fingers away, the rings of the artifact begin to spin sporadically and you feel the ground beneath your feet rumble faintly.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the spinning of time rapidly picks up speed, melding together days and nights and weeks to years. After a flurry of arbitrary thoughts to busy yourself, you feel Regulus’ gloved hand fall against your shoulder, “We’re here.”

Nodding, you slowly open your eyes and roll your shoulders back. “Thank you.”

The forest remained as lively as ever, the only decipherable change to your environment being the position of the sun in the sky. Tucking away the time turner, you turn your gaze to Regulus’ masked one as he offers up his arm again.

“Do you think Gawdry will tell us why the files are so valuable?” You ask, looping your arm with his.

“Not a chance.” Regulus muses, his words followed by the swift pull of apparition.

Wind bats against your ears for a few moments before you feel smooth tile press against your feet, spurring you to fall back into reality. Blinking, you step back and survey the area Regulus brought you both to: a dim alcove in the Ministry atrium. The walk to the Department of Mysteries was a far one, but you both would be able to hug against the shadows nearby to avoid wandering eyes until you reach the elevator.

“How do you navigate around the Ministry without being seen?” You hum out curiously, treading by the tall brick pillars.

Regulus seems to slow his steps to match yours as he tugs his hood down further once your passage conjoins into the main chamber of the Ministry. “I don’t. Not usually, anyway. My assignments are delivered to my place of residence.”

“Aside from work, you don’t get out much, do you?” You huff out in both consolation and worry. “We’ll have to change that.” You mutter under your breath, feeling Regulus’ eyes dart to your face.

The buzzing of chatter and clicking of shoes against the polished floor grows in tandem with the illumination of your surroundings, thrusting you and Regulus into the milling clusters of Ministry workers.

“Might want to keep your head down.” You sigh out, holding your elbow out once you are both near the elevators.

Regulus wordlessly grabs onto your sleeve and drops his head, allowing his hood to fall over and veil the glow of his mask. You lead him to stand in line, keeping an eye out for any suspicious looks or double takes.

By the time you both manage to clamber inside one of the lifts, you can feel the remnants of adrenaline in your body dissipate, leaving you feeling boneless in the cramped box. Regulus shuffles behind you, slotting himself into one of the back corners as an older man turns to you.

“What floor?” He asks pleasantly, eyes never straying to look at your cloaked companion.

“Ninth, please.” You nod at him, shooting a small smile in thanks.

He simply nods back before punching the milky button just as the golden grille door slides across the aperture. A peaceful lull ensues as the lift jostles slowly from floor to floor, the faint creaking of the grille and the melodic announcement of each floor number occasionally flowing into the air.

When the lift begins to ascend past the eighth floor, only you, Regulus, and the man at the button panel remain inside. You shift your weight from foot-to-foot as you can sense the man’s growing anticipation. The jangling of chains shoves itself into the peripheral of your mind as he finally turns to face you, a cryptic gleam casting over his eyes.

You’re able to get a good look at him now that he’s fully facing you, eyes running across his worn expression and grey-streaked combover that evidently used to be tinted a deep tawny.

“Apologies for my frankness, but do you happen to be Auror L/N?” He asks, head tilting imperceptibly as your eyes widen at the unexpected question.

Nodding slowly, you plaster on an uncertain smile. “Yes, I am. I don’t believe we’ve met before though?”

“Ah, how rude of me, I am Lord Grey.” He clears his throat, just as the lift halts in its movements. “I just wanted to introduce myself to such an esteemed Auror. I’ve heard such high praises about your ability to find things.”

You incline your head toward him and release a sheepish chortle, “That’s me. Just a little penchant for tracking is all… Well it’s nice to meet you, Lord Grey.”

The grille doors are wrought aside not a moment later, and you turn to gesture for Regulus to exit first, much to his confusion. Just as Regulus steps out of the elevator, Lord Grey leans towards you and shoots you an indecipherable grin, “You are also renowned for your… impartiality, Auror L/N, no?”

“Yes?” You confirm lightly, masking your disconcertion with the sudden eerie atmosphere. Lord Grey simply nods before he slides something toward you, and one glance downward has you realizing it is a business card.

“I hope you give it some thought.” He mutters equivocally.

Raising an eyebrow, you take the card and slide it into your pocket before shuffling away. “Good day, Lord Grey.”

“Yes, good day.”

The odd exchange imprints itself into your mind as Regulus shoots you a questioning look once you reach him. His eyes slowly move from you and over your shoulder, gaze narrowing and causing you to peek back around. You aren’t able to catch another glimpse of the man, but the lift continues to descend until the echo of chains fades away.

“Are you okay?” Regulus asks once you trudge over to his side.

You nod and fiddle with the card in your pocket before making up your mind. “Yeah, he just handed me this all ominously.” Regulus eyes you as you slip the card out of your pocket, remaining soundless as you bring the thick rectangle between you both.

Your eyebrows slant further down as you realize that the card is blank save for a black emblem at the center. The symbol sends a shiver down your spine as you continue to stare at it; a thick black line curves uniformly into a soft, open triangle, the proud snake head at its end seeming to jitter against the ivory paper.

“Bloody hell.” You murmur dryly, “Not creepy at all.”

Regulus looks just as confused as you feel, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to hide the mounting tension in your posture.

“Let’s keep this between us for now.” Regulus mutters, straightening up to turn away, but even as he moves forward, you can still identify the calculative glint in his eyes.

Tucking the card away again, you readjust your hold on the woven bag on your shoulder as you both pace through the looping corridors. You aren’t even aware of your proximity to your destination until you’re nearly pedaling into Regulus’ back as he waits for the imposing doors to flutter open.

Gawdry’s office is a welcomed sight, the nebulous glow from the light beams enveloping your fatigued figure. The dour expression across his face lifts slightly once he takes in your approaching figures, eyes immediately connecting with yours as he gazes at you with heavy expectation.

“Agents, what a surprise.” He grumbles out, leaning back against his chair as you both stop a few feet short of his desk.

“Save the confetti and cake for later,” you hum out, beginning to dig in your bag.

Gawdry remains unfazed as his attentive eyes lock on your movements. “If you wish,” his drawl is accompanied by a wry smile as you wrestle the thick purple tome out of your bag. Handing the sturdy object to the man, you suppress the chill that storms through your body as you feel the densely packed magic ingrained in the file.

“By the way, a warning would have been nice. A patrimony ball of that degree was hardly an ideal event to blindly jump into.” Your tone is light despite the visceral feeling of doom that still crawled around the cavity of your chest.

“You’re both here in one piece, aren’t you?” Gawdry raises an eyebrow, bringing a hand up to wave you both off, “Nicely done, though. It seems that I chose wisely.”

You hum out in agreement before you glance at Regulus’ indifferent gaze and nod your head toward the doors. “Right. Well we’ll be back tomorrow, boss.”

Without waiting for a response from the preoccupied man, you and Regulus spin on your heels and retrace your steps toward the exit. As your badge’s magic tediously weaves through the locks of the doors, you bring your palm up to rest on your chest, feeling the imprint of the time turner jump against your skin.

“Ten hours to cool down, I think.”

Regulus glances at you and shoves his hands into his pant pockets. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah.” You nod in agreement before releasing a small breath of exhaustion, “Right, well, see you later.” Your shoes beat against the tiles as you begin to make your way down the hallway.

“What?” You slowly turn around at Regulus’ voice, watching as he blinks at you through his mask, eyes blank with blatant confusion.

“Oh, well ten hours of downtime…” You trail off, hands awkwardly gesturing to your right.

Regulus blinks at you before humming, “Yeah.”

You clear your throat as you feel a flush of heat bloom across the blades of your shoulders. “Uh, but… Actually, I’ll go with you. It’ll be quicker that way, anyway. Y’know to get moving onto the next assignment.”

“Yeah.” Regulus agrees plainly, eyes darting away as you shuffle back over to him.

Somehow in the whirlwind of your lethargy and incessant thoughts, you and Regulus manage to make it back to the elevator and down toward the floo networks in record breaking speed. You tilt your head as Regulus juts out his elbow for you to take, and you wordlessly comply as he leads you to the farthest network all whilst keeping his head down. Once you both step into the wide space of the network, Regulus grabs a handful of floo powder before throwing it onto the ashy ground. “Abscondita terra.” His voice rumbles out lowly and the clear words spur green flames across your vision.

When the lurid fire flees into nothingness, you’re left standing in front of a dim living room. Regulus shifts out of the network first and offers you an assessing look before gesturing for you to sit on the grey couch. You barely contain the gape threatening to materialize on your face as you swallow harshly, “Is this place yours?”

The man merely nods and watches as you teeter toward the plush cushions, dropping down stiffly onto the firm seat. You clear your throat and look to Regulus as he moves to lean on the doorway to your left. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He bats his hand in a show of casualness before cracking his neck. “You can only come here if I allow it, so.”

“Right, witness protection and whatnot.” You say quietly, clasping your hands in your lap.

Regulus nods jerkily and gazes at you for a moment before speaking up again, “You could have died earlier. With Mulciber’s attack.” He mutters, eyes sliding to look at your shoulder.

You hum and hug one of his throw pillows to your chest, “I dodged in time. Luckily, he didn’t hurl the killing curse at me.”

“Because he wanted you to die a slow, agonizing death in front of me.” He quickly retorts, clearing his throat as he kicks off from the doorway. “That spell would have severed through half of your neck.”

A shiver blooms from the base of your spine as you envision the gory picture. “Ah… Well, that’s the risk of the job.”

Regulus keeps his eyes on you for a few more seconds before he sighs and disappears somewhere off into the kitchen, momentarily leaving you to your devices. You hear distant clanking and the sound of cabinet doors being shut, lulling you to reminisce on the day’s events.

He soon reemerges into the room with a glass of water, blinking sluggishly as he approaches you. Somehow, seeing him in his tired state eases the awkwardness in the air and you slouch back to get comfortable.

“But are you okay?” You couldn’t help but prod, still remembering his tense demeanor during Clyde’s toast.

“Yeah,” Regulus hums, gently placing the cup of water in front of you. He sits down on the opposite side of the couch as you quietly thank him, and you nearly break your neck when you see him slowly push his cloak off.

Turning away with wide eyes, you swallow harshly before trying to distract yourself by breaking the silence. “So, Clyde’s toast was a bit…”

“Creepy?” Regulus supplies, tone lilted with amusement.

You shake your head and lean over to grab the cup, “Yeah, I thought I’d accidentally joined a cult.” Bringing the rim of the glass to your lips, you chance a side glance to your companion and see the glow of flesh in the dimming room, a stark contrast to the perpetual veil of black that always covered his skin.

Sipping your water, you relax against the cushions behind you as Regulus clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “You remember my father, right?” His voice is level, growing serious as he departs from his previous amusement.

You nod, it was unlikely you’d ever forget the stern man—and then realization dawns on you. “The man who stepped out during the toast… that was Orion?”

“In the flesh.” Regulus says, cracking his knuckles as he leans his elbows on his knees.

Frowning, you place your half-empty glass down on the table as you debate over what approach to take in the conversation. “I’m glad you got out.” You admit honestly, unable to suppress the images of twelve-year-old Regulus’ mischievous smiles and twinkling eyes from your mind.

“Me too.” Regulus breathes out, “Only killed him in the process.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his words and you lean back, turning to him and gesticulating slowly with your hands, “Like, run out the door and throw an expulso behind you—kill, or…”

Regulus’ shoulders shake as he muffles a laugh, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the toned muscles of his arms, webby veins trailing down from his forearm to his hands. Your mouth parts slightly at the sight, but you quickly dart your gaze back up, grateful that Regulus was still looking straight ahead and not toward your gawking face.

However, it seemed that you couldn’t catch a break.

As your eyes stray from his arms, they catch themselves on the raven tresses which were slightly disheveled from his hood. The flowing waves fall a bit past his ears, not unlike how he maintained it when you were both younger.

Before you can fall into a mental tangent about the sight in front of you, Regulus’ head turns to you, eyes practically glowing behind his mask. “Not quite as exciting, I’m afraid. When he got the news that I helped Dumbledore take down the Dark Lord, his heart stopped on the spot.” Regulus breathes out harshly and pushes a hand through his hair, “At least that’s what I was told.”

“Merlin.” You mutter, fully turning to Regulus now. Bringing one leg up onto the couch, you tilt your head as you and Regulus maintain eye contact, “Are you alright, though?”

Regulus nods slowly and mirrors you by sitting up and tilting his body toward you. “I made peace with it. Seems he couldn’t handle two rebellious heirs.”

“Inbreeding tends to promise a life with faulty organs.” You say offhandedly, only freezing when Regulus’ eyes light up in humor. Backtracking, you let out a small laugh, “Uh, no offense.”

“You’re not wrong.” Regulus admits, throwing an arm across the back cushions.

You flash a small smile as you lay your head against the pillowy surface, eyes falling to the single cushion of distance between you both. “Do you ever miss Hogwarts?”

Regulus’ eyes close for a few moments before he opens them again and you’re greeted with a faraway look. “Sometimes. You?” He hums out, fingers aimlessly drawing patterns against the cushion.

“Sometimes,” you intone quietly. “I miss all the Quidditch games and even the late hours in the library. Helga, studying for our N.E.W.T’s was so taxing.”

Regulus nods and blinks slowly, his silence prompting you to continue. “Anyway, I’m glad our paths crossed again.” Your words are firm with genuinity, but you can’t ignore the flutter of bashfulness that pulses through your veins at the admission.

“I always thought you were going to be a Curse Breaker.” Regulus whispers, dropping his head back onto the couch cushion to rest.

You muffle a yawn as you peer at the man in inquiry. “Maybe at first. How’d you know that?”

Regulus fixes you with a light look, and you feel your breath leave your lungs as he pins you down with a warm gaze—one you haven’t seen in years. “It was hard not to be intrigued by someone who watched me from a distance so diligently.”

Your words get caught in your throat as you blink owlishly in surprise. “And now? Are you still intrigued by me?” You breathe out with searching eyes.

Regulus holds your gaze before quietly replying, voice barely a whisper: “Even more so now.”

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andsjuliet · 1 year

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2023 books read

updated reading goal: 150

1) nancy drew: the curse → micol ostow (audiobook, reread) / (jan 1) 2) all the dangerous things → stacy willingham (arc) / (jan 2) 3) lunar love → lauren kung jessen (arc) / (jan 3 - jan 4) 4) death by dumpling → vivien chien (audiobook) / (jan 6) 5) where echoes die → courtney gould (arc) / (jan 4 - jan 7) 6) the no-show → beth o’leary (audiobook) / (jan 6 - jan 8) 7) 6 times we almost kissed (and one time we did) → tess sharpe (arc) / (jan 8) 8) a fatal thing happened on the way to the forum: murder in ancient rome → emma southon (audiobook) / (jan 8 - jan 9) 9) this appearing house → ally malinenko (audiobook) / (jan 9) 10) spare → prince harry (audiobook) / (jan 10) 11) hell bent → leigh bardugo (audiobook) / (jan 10 - jan 12) 12) have i told you this already? → lauren graham / (jan 12 - jan 13) 13) partners in crime → alisha rai (audiobook) / (jan 13) 14) always the almost → edward underhill (arc) / (jan 14) 15) a room of one’s own → virgina woolf / (jan 5 - jan 14) 16) icebreaker → hannah grace (audiobook) / (jan 15) 17) the companion → e.e. ottoman / (jan 15 - jan 16) 18) feel your way through → kelsea ballerini / (jan 16) 19) comfort me with apples → catherynne m. valente (audiobook) / (jan 17) 20) a strange loop → michael r. jackson / (jan 21) 21) maybe in another life → taylor jenkins reid / (jan 23) 22) the fraud squad → kyla zhao / (jan 23 - jan 25) 23) the family game → catherine steadman (audiobook) / (jan 25 - jan 26) 24) the six deaths of the saint → alix e. harrow / (jan 28) 25) these fleeting shadows → kate alice marshall (audiobook) / (jan 28) 26) better than fiction → alexa martin (audiobook) / (jan 30 - jan 31) 27) this is not a personal statement → tracy badua / (jan 28 - feb 1) 28) nine liars → maureen johnson / (feb 2 - feb 4) 29) the nanny → lana ferguson (arc) / (feb 6) 30) finlay donovan is killing it → elle cosimano (audiobook) / (feb 7) 31) finlay donovan knocks ‘em dead → elle cosimano (audiobook) / (feb 8) 32) finaly donovan jumps the gun → elle cosimano (audiobook) / (feb 8) 33) someone had to do it → amber brown & danielle brown (audiobook) / (feb 12) 34) daisy jones & the six → taylor jenkins reid (reread, annotation) / (feb 8 - feb 12) 35) wuthering heights → emily brontë (audiobook, reread) / (feb 13 - feb 14) 36) practical magic → alice hoffman (audiobook) / (feb 16) 37) delicious monsters → liselle sambury (arc) / (feb 11 - feb 17) 38) the world cannot give → tara isabella burton (audiobook) / (feb 18 - feb 19) 39) this time it’s real → ann liang / (feb 14 - feb 19) 40) partners in crime → agatha christie (audiobook) / (feb 20) 41) the glass menagerie → tennessee williams (reread) / (feb 22) 42) missing clarissa → ripley jones (arc) / (feb 22 - feb 23) 43) the reunion → kayla olson (audiobook) / (feb 23) 44) twelfth night → william shakespeare (reread, annotation) / (jan 15 - feb 23) 45) the summer i turned pretty → jenny han (reread, audiobook) / (mar 1) 46) it’s not summer without you → jenny han (reread, audiobook) / (mar 1) 47) we’ll always have summer → jenny han (reread, audiobook) / (mar 1) 48) the late mrs. willoughby → claudia gray (arc) / (feb 23 - mar 2) 49) the appeal → janice hallett / (mar 2 - mar 3) 50) fatal throne: the wives of henry vii tell all → candice fleming, m.t. anderson, jennifer donnelly, stephanie hemphill, debrah hopkinson, linda sue park, lisa anna sandell (audiobook) / (mar 4) 51) a quiet life in the country → t.e. kinsey (audiobook) / (mar 6 - mar 7) 52) leave it to the march sisters → annie sereno (arc) / (mar 7 - mar 8) 53) wild is the witch → rachel griffin (audiobook) / (mar 9) 54) no exit → taylor adams / (mar 9 - mar 10) 55) julius caesar → william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (mar 15) 56) last violent call → chloe gong / (mar 10 - mar 15) 57) the witch and the vampire → francesca flores (arc) / (mar 15 - mar 16) 58) what lies in the woods → kate alice marshall (audiobook) / (mar 17) 59) the writing retreat → julia bartz (audiobook) / (mar 18 - mar 20) 60) spells for forgetting → adrienne young (audiobook) / (mar 23) 61) anne of green gables → l.m. montgomery (reread) / (mar 21 - mar 24) 62) an elderly lady is up to no good → helene tursten (audiobook, translated work) / (mar 27) 63) murder your employer: the mcmasters guide to homicide → rupert holmes (audiobook) / (mar 28 - mar 29) 64) fake dates and mooncakes → sher lee (arc) / (mar 29 - mar 30) 65) the sweetest connection → denise williams (audiobook) / (apr 1) 66) immortal longings → chloe gong (arc) / (mar 16 - apr 1) 67) lost in the never woods → aiden thomas / (apr 2 - apr 3) 68) that wasn’t in the script → sarah ainslee (arc) / (apr 3) 69) tell me what really happened → chelsea sedoti (arc) / (apr 3) 70) shakespeare in love → lee hall / (apr 4) 71) the golden spoon → jessa maxwell (audiobook) / (apr 6 - apr 7) 72) hamlet → william shakespeare (reread, annotation) / (mar 4 - apr 8) 73) anne of avonlea → l.m. montgomery (reread) / (apr 4 - apr 9) 74) anne of the island → l.m. montgomery (reread) (apr 9) 75) of human kindness: what shakespeare teaches us about empathy → paula marantz cohen (audiobook) / (apr 7 - apr 10) 76) ophelia → lisa m. klein (audiobook) / (apr 12 - apr 13) 77) anne of windy poplars → l.m. montgomery (reread) (apr 10 - apr 13) 78) women of will: following the feminine in shakespeare’s plays → tina packer (audiobook) / (apr 14 - apr 17) 79) juliet: the life and afterlives of shakespeare's first tragic heroine → sophie duncan (arc) / (apr 5 - apr 18) 80) your guide to not getting murdered in a quaint english village → maureen johnson, jay cooper / (apr 20) 81) when the reckoning comes → latanya mcqueen (audiobook) / (apr 21 - apr 22) 82) laertes: a hamlet retelling → carly stevens / (apr 23) 83) the broken girls → simone st. james / (apr 21 - apr 26) 84) the night swim → megan golden (audiobook) / (may 1 - may 2) 85) when you wish upon a lantern → gloria chao (audiobook) / (may 3 - may 4) 86) chloe and the kaishao boys → mae coyiuto / (may 2 - may 7) 87) ghosted: a northanger abbey novel → amanda quain (arc) / (may 2 - may 7) 88) happy place → emily henry / (may 7 - may 9) 89) the mad women’s ball → victoria mas / (may 9 - may 11) 90) the fiancée farce → alexandria bellefleur (audiobook) / (may 14 - may 15) 91) the strange case of the alchemist's daughter → theodora goss (audiobook) / (may 18 - may 19) 92) the weight of blood → tiffany d. jackson (audiobook) / (may 19 - may 20) 93) the twyford code → janice hallett / (may 18 - may 21) 94) never vacation with your ex → emily wibberley and austin siegemund-broka / (may 22) 95) the dos and donuts of love → adiba jaigirdar (arc) / (may 23 - may 24) 96) european travel for the monstrous gentlewoman → theodora goss (audiobook) / (may 22 - may 25) 97) one jump at a time: my story → nathan chen (audiobook) / (jun 1) 98) death of a bookseller → alice slater (audiobook) / (jun 1 - jun 2) 99) a treacherous tale → elizabeth penny (audiobook) / (jun 3 - jun 5) 100) chapter and curse → elizabeth penny (audiobook) / (jun 5) 101) julieta and the romeos → maria e. andreu (audiobook) / (jun 5 - jun 6) 102) a far wilder magic → allison saft (audiobook) / (jun 7 - jun 11) 103) meet me at the lake → carly fortune (audiobook) / (jun 11 - jun 12) 104) foul heart huntsman → chloe gong (arc) / (may 25 - jun 17) 105) rules for vanishing → kate alice marshall / (jun 1 - jun 19) 106) little thieves → margaret own (audiobook) / (jun 15 - jun 21) 107) the last word → taylor adams / (jun 19 - jun 21) 108) the three dahlias → katy watson / (jun 5 - jun 24) 109) painted devils → margaret own (audiobook) / (jun 25 - jun 29) 110) reign → katharine mcgee (arc) / (jun 25 - jul 1) 111) the chateau → jaclyn goldis / (jul 1 - jul 4) 112) a most agreeable murder → julia seals / (jul 2 - jul 4) 113) the shadow sister → lily meade / (july 4 - july 5) 114) if we were villains → m.l. rio (reread, audiobook) / (jul 6) 115) something is killing the children, vol 1 → james tynion iv / (jul 7) 116) something is killing the children, vol 2 → james tynion iv / (jul 7) 117) something is killing the children, vol 3 → james tynion iv / (jul 7) 118) you’re not supposed to die tonight → kalynn bayron / (jul 8) 119) something is killing the children, vol 4 → james tynion iv / (jul 9) 120) lock every door → riley sager (audiobook) / (jul 8 - jul 9) 121) something is killing the children, vol 5 → james tynion iv / (jul 10) 122) the sun down motel → simone st. james / (jul 9 - jul 11) 123) the only survivors → megan miranda (audiobook) / (jul 13) 124) at home with the horrors → sammy scott / (jul 16 - jul 21) 125) one of us is lying → karen m. mcmanus (reread, audiobook) / (jul 31) 126) bring me your midnight → rachel griffin (arc) / (jul 21 - jul 31) 127) one of us is next → karen m. mcmanus (reread, audiobook) / (jul 31 - aug 1) 128) the summer of broken rules → k.l. walther / (jul 30 - aug 1) 129) one of us is back → karen m. mcmanus / (aug 1 - aug 3) 130) what happens after midnight → k.l. walther / (aug 4 - aug 6) 131) the narrow → kate alice marshall / (aug 3 - aug 6) 132) night of the living queers: 13 tales of terror delight → edited by shelly page and alex brown (arc) / (aug 9 - aug 15) 133) the death i gave him → em x. liu (arc) / (aug 17 - aug 19) 134) heartstopper, vol 1 (reread) → alice oseman / (aug 19) 135) heartstopper, vol 2 (reread) → alice oseman / (aug 19) 136) heartstopper, vol 3 (reread) → alice oseman / (aug 19) 137) heartstopper, vol 4 (reread) → alice oseman / (aug 19) 138) the only one left → riley sager / (aug 19 - aug 21) 139) the getaway list → emma lord (arc) / (aug 21 - aug 22) 140) a good girl’s guide to murder → holly jackson (reread, audiobook) / (aug 23 - aug 24) 141) good girl, bad blood → holly jackson (reread, audiobook) / (aug 24 - aug 26) 142) as good as dead → holly jackson (reread, audiobook) / (aug 26 - aug 27) 143) five survive → holly jackson (reread, audiobook) / (aug 27) 144) one for my enemy → olivie blake / (aug 31 - sep 5) 145) business or pleasure → rachel lynn solomon / (sep 5) 146) maybe meant to be → k.l. walther (audiobook) / (sep 6 - sep 7) 147) yellowface → r.f. kuang (audiobook) / (sep 10 - sep 11) 148) going bicostal → dahlia adler (audiobook) / (sep 19) 149) teach the torches to burn: a romeo and juliet remix → caleb roehig / (sep 16 - sep 23) 150) none of this is true → lisa jewell / (sep 24) 151) the girls in the garden → lisa jewell (audiobook) / (sep 29 - sep 30) 152) a very lively murder → katy watson / (oct 3 - oct 4) 153) she is a haunting → trang thanh tran (audiobook) / (oct 4 - oct 5) 154) murder and mamon → mia p. manansala / (oct 5) 155) in these hallowed halls: a dark academia anthology → edited by marie o’regan & paul kane / (sep 14 - oct 7) 156) hallowe’en party → agatha christie (audiobook) / (oct 8 - oct 9) 157) the second death of edie and violet bond → amanda glaze (audiobook) / (oct 9 - oct 11) 158) the fall of the house of usher → edgar allan poe / (oct 12) 159) home before dark → riley sager (audiobook) / (oct 13 - oct 14) 160) a haunting on the hill → elizabeth hand / (oct 7 - oct 16) 161) the lost coast → a.r. capetta (audiobook) / (oct 14 - oct 19) 162) murder in the family → cara hunter / (oct 18 - oct 21) 163) starling house → alix e. harrow (audiobook) / (oct 22 - oct 25) 164) the unmaking of june farrow → adrienne young (physical and audiobook) / (oct 23 - oct 28) 165) when ghosts call us home → katya de becerra / (oct 28 - oct 30) 166) a christmas carol → charles dickens (reread) / (nov 5) 167) the fall of whit rivera → crystal maldonado (audiobook) / (nov 9 - nov 10) 168) iris kelly doesn’t date → ashley herring blake (audiobook) / (nov 11 - nov 12) 169) fair rosaline → natasha solomon / (nov 8 - nov 14) 170) the dead romantics → ashley poston (audiobook) / (nov 20) 171) if we were villains → m.l. rio (reread, physical and audiobook) / (nov 8 - nov 22) 172) the ballad of songbirds and snakes → suzanne collins / (nov 23 - nov 25) 173) i hope this doesn’t find you → ann liang (arc) / (nov 27 - nov 28) 174) the hunger games → suzanne collins (reread, annotation) / (dec 1 - dec 2) 175) the christmas appeal → janice hallett (audiobook) / (dec 6) 176) enchanted to meet you → meg cabot (audiobook) / (dec 8 - dec 10) 177) catching fire → suzanne collins (reread, annotation) / (dec 3 - dec 17) 178) mockingjay → suzanne collins (reread, annotation) / (dec 18 - dec 23) 179) none shall sleep → ellie marney (audiobook) / (dec 15 - dec 23) 180) little women → louisa may alcott (reread, physical and audiobook) / (dec 25 - dec 28)

#post: 2023 books read

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

Note

Congrats again on 500, Mar! ☺️💕 What’ll you do with this?? 🤔🤔

(p.s: I’m sorry if I send a few of these in...I just can’t get enough of your writing)

K you sent me this gif ages ago, and I'm terribly sorry it took this long for me to post, but we can't hurry inspiration right? (And it's better late than ever anyways...) 🥰✨

It got longer than a blurb.

And my biggest thanks to @lyarr24 for the drinking games ideas. :)

⚠️ Drunk Tommy

Drunk on you

“Fucking hell.” Tommy mumbled for himself after asking Harry if he had seen you. The answer wasn’t what he had expected as Harry told him you were walking with that bloody carpenter. “Evebody get the fuck out of here!” He barked feeling a sudden anger building inside.

The Garrison went deadly quiet and all the men gathered there started to leave.

Joseph did what he couldn’t; he asked you out. And the fucking walk around the lake was the first step into his courtship. There was nothing he could do, Joseph had a clean record, payed his bills, provided for his old mother, he wouldn’t steal a carrot, and he had the path cleared when he laid his eyes on you.

Tommy couldn’t find a single motive to set his business into fire other than jealousy.

But he couldn’t let you slip away either.

He had met you thanks to Arthur, the memory still fresh in his mind.

His brother accidentally knocked on your door one night completely drunk and after assuring you it was his home, a few minutes later somehow you convinced Arthur to follow you and after being about to stumble a couple of times with his own steps, you made it to Watery Lane with Arthur Shelby mumbling how you were such a good Samaritan, an angel on earth, you tried you get him to stay quiet or at least keep his voice down, but he was so loud that Tommy had to rush outside to help you.

“Tommy?” Harry asked rubbing his fingers nervously against a cloth, unsure of the answer he would get. “I wanted to know if I can head home early, my wife just had our baby and...” but before he could continue, Tommy nodded.

“Sure, Harry... I will close the Garrison.” He answered in a rare kindness spree while Harry’s face lighted up and decided to leave before Tommy could change his mind.

Pouring himself another whiskey, he quickly made a face as the amber liquid burned his throat.

Memories continued to assault his vision as he remembered the scary face you made when he opened the door.

“Mr. Shelby, sorry to bother you but-”

He was startled at first, wasn’t expecting a new face in Birmingham to stop by late at night with his drunkass brother.

“Ah there it is my little brotha!” Arthur pinched his cheeks, earning a dead stare look from him.

“Thank you for not leaving him outside.”

“Tom-mey! This is... Y/N.” Tommy took his brother’s arm and passed it behind his neck to hold his weight. “Whatcha do sunshine?” He started calling her that for her unusual yellow sweater, it reminded him of a sunny day.

“I send telegrams, if you ever need to send one, let me know.” You stated with a half smile.

“I surely will be sending some then, it’s good to know a familiar face that can keep our affairs off the record.” He then winked at you easing your tension.

Watching at the clock, Tommy wondered if he should walk casually in front of your place to see if you were back home.

And what the hell would he say then?

You had been the perfect company after Grace betrayed him, listening to him while he cursed and blamed himself for trusting her, you never accused him or reproached the mistake he made like some of his family members, no... you just listened when he needed it the most, even helped him get his mind back on track, motivating him to use the pain as fuel. But eventually, you found a man that listened to you, it was only fair if he wasted so much time licking his wounds for someone who wasn’t worth it.

“Would you like some tea?” He offered with some effort while holding Arthur, heavier by the minute. “Let me put him to bed and walk you back home, it’s late.”

“You’re a cloud.” Stated Arthur, his eyes almost closed. “Grumpy... and boring.” Then, patting his chest, he added; “but I love you. Where’s the bottle doll?”

“How fucking embarrassing Arthur.” Tommy pulled or more likely dragged him inside. “Accept my apologies.” He added while placing Arthur on a chair. “You must be cold.” In a gentle motion, Tommy placed a chair in front of the fire and started to boil the water.

“This is really not necessary.” You added, feeling so out of place, after listening to the stories going around the leader of the Shelby family, you weren’t sure what to expect when the ruthless gangster was offering you a cup of tea.

“You could’ve kicked him out...” He pointed at the man whose head was hanging against the back of the chair in an uncomfortable position, snoring lightly.

“He wasn’t exactly the typical drunk that falls asleep.” Nope, Arthur knocked about ten times and when he stared shouting you decided to open the door.

Tommy chuckled at that. No, Arthur got pretty loud when he got drunk.

Pouring the tea for you, he stopped for a second. “Thomas Shelby.” He introduced himself, offering his hand at you.

This wasn’t the same man people talked about you soon realized. And from then on, he was nothing but kind and grateful towards you.

That night after moving Arthur to one of the couches, Tommy walked you home. Explaining to you all about the betting shop, the Garrison and asking you questions about the telegrams. You soon started the be part of the blinders as an informant of things that might have interested them. You were able to get cigarettes and booze for free with Polly and Esme, and hang with them at the Garrison private booth.

As part of their close circle, Tommy constantly asked you for help, not only sending telegrams or getting information, somehow you owned some kind of power over him, since he felt comfortable enough around you and ended up sharing some family affairs that were on his mind.

It had been so easy to fall for him, he was kind, smart and genuinely wanted to help his people. But soon you realized Tommy would never see you as something else, deep down he had been hurt by the previous woman and he was completely focused on expanding his business, you could only imagine he decided to throw his heart into the cut, you had to accept Tommy would never look at you with interest, that’s why you accepted Joseph shy invitation for a walk, he started to send randoms telegrams that could never be delivered, until he asked if you had a free day.

Frustrated of the way the events turned out, you pushed the doors of the Garrison, only to find it empty except for Tommy, who sat at the high bar contemplating an empty glass. Joseph was a good man, but there was no sparkle, no flame, your heart didn’t get excited or went beating like drum.

“Where’s everybody?” You asked taking off your coat.

“I kicked them out.” He confessed proudly.

Unsure of his motives, you asked cautiously: “Do you want company?”

“How many drinks can you have?” He asked with a smirk. “You want to play a game?” Tommy asked pouring himself another drink. “Bet your day was better than mine.”

The glass was empty in a matter of seconds, his hair hair disheveled, as id he had been running his hands through it.

“I dare you, get a bottle, it’s on the house.” Raising his glass towards you, he then added; “was your date good? With Saint-perfect- Joseph?” He was about to down it, but stopped abruptly.

“Tommy...” He pushed another glass in front of you.

“We could play Ibble Dibble.”He smacked his hand on the surface of the bar. “You know that? Number one ibble-dibble, with zero dibble-ibbles calling number two ibble-dibble with no dibble-ibbles...”

Tommy wasn’t the type of man to do something like that, you wondered how many drinks he actually had. He was always so serious, always planning his next move.

“We need more people to play it.” Would he actually allow other people to mark his face with the black dots?

“You just want an excuse to call your boyfriend.” Tommy snorted and took another sip.

“He’s not my boyfriend Tommy, can we please stop talking about him?”

“No? What’s stopping him?”

There was no use to explain him that. Trying to avoid the subject, you poured yourself some whiskey, frustrated with yourself for ruining such an opportunity with a decent man over someone who wouldn’t look at you twice.

“Mhh?” He found your reflection in the mirror behind the bottles. You were wearing your hair half up, and a lipstick you used on important celebrations, were you really in love with that Joseph?

“Does he make you laugh?”

“What?” You asked surprised, your head snapping in a sharp movement.

Did he really said that out loud? Shit.

Turning your head to him, Tommy was already looking at you.

“Should we get you home now?” You asked trying to avoid the real answer.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Tommy thought perhaps it was for the best, if he kept drinking this way, alcohol would make him start speaking and he would be damned if he admitted his feelings for you, you were a good woman and deserved better.

He wasn’t sure of the exact moment when he stared to notice your smile, or the way you placed your hand on your hips while listening to his instructions, but the feeling started to grow naturally, he felt attracted for the way you smiled or the way you said his name. The way you saw things.

Somehow you made him forget about the woman who hurt him in the past, slowly, a little bit more each day with your company and your charm, but ye was scared of hurting such a pure soul.

“Cat got your tongue?” You asked as the two of you finally reached the door, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, he just seemed so lost in thoughts.

Tommy blinked a couple of times, lost of words, the room starting to spin a bit. Woah.

You moved around his house as if it was yours, helping him down you noticed the kettle was ready, so you hurried back to the couch to give him the cup, he would get a terrible headache the following morning, so you placed a bucket on the floor and covered him with one of the coats hanging from the rack.

“Alright, you’re going to regret it tomorrow, but I think you’re all set Tommy.”

Where you officially the save-a-drunk-Shelby?

“Wait.” You thought he would be sleep by now, but he offered you his hand and you took a seat in front of him. “Did you let him kiss you?” You shook your head. “Would you let me kiss you, Y/N?”

The question made your heart skip a beat, his blue eyes seemed clearer suddenly.

“Tommy you’re drunk.”But he silenced you with a finger on your lips, his gaze dancing from your mouth to your eyes and back.

“There’s not a single drunkard that would swallow fire, I’m totally aware of what I’m doing.”

“Oh really? And what exactly are you doing?” You smiled suddenly realizing he pretended to be wasted just to get you to help him.

“What I should’ve done a while ago.”

His hand moved to the back of your head to pull you down towards his lips, they were soft and moved slowly against yours, exploring gently the unknown territory. Not even in his wildest dreams would beat this moment, as your hand came to rest on his jaw.

“How many Ibble Dibbles can you see?” You asked in a whisper after pulling away.

“Not enough.” There was a cocky smile starting to form right before he leaned on his elbow to kiss you one more time. “What did you do to me?” He asked not even waiting for an answer.

Your lips on him felt a thousand times stronger than a glass of whiskey. It was an intoxicating feeling he couldn’t get enough of.

After kissing for what felt like an eternity, Tommy touched your forehead with his, eyes studying your features as his thumb outlined your lower lip.

“I’m drunk on you.”

Sometimes, taking a small risk brings back something bigger.

***

A/N: Drinking game mentioned is Ibble Dibble

Tag list: @lyarr24 @gretelshelby @cloudofdisney @gypsy-girl-08 @cillmequick @zablife @esposadomd @forgottenpeakywriter @onlydeadcells @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @elenavampire21 @lespendy @stevie75 @moral-terpitude @shelbydelrey @cutecurly-hair @the-forest-witchh @strayrockette

If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know 💕

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you

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trashogram · 4 days

Text

Husklie

OLD Husk/Charlie one-shot based on the pilot. It was posted on my AO3 years ago, but I thought I’d share it here anyway in case anyone was interested. Rated T.

Something was always going on at the hotel. The literal Hell they lived in wasn’t completely foregone when it came to the building itself, or its residents by any means. And the people in charge of this whole operation were hardly what you’d call responsible adults. Enthusiasm and passion weren’t substitutes for good sense, so something was always going sideways.

Nevertheless, their host Charlie was sickeningly upbeat for the most part, but even demons born from BOS (Before Original Sin) ran out of steam from time to time. Husk was internally somewhat impressed that her demeanor kept for so very long. There were very few moments when she succumbed to the exhaustion of riding on an ideal so asinine , that her own father had essentially disowned her.

Husk, for his part, hardly saw her alone, save for those very few moments. If he cared enough, the feline demon might’ve wondered why Charlie was all alone every time ‘those moments’ showed their ugly heads.

Like now, when she came over to the bar, phone clutched in hand and eyes red like the sun - whether from anger or sadness, Husk wasn’t sure - and took a seat.

She’d sat primly on one of his bar stools for a minute or two, before her shoulders slumped. Charlie’s expression became marred by faint grooves in the skin while she sighed and stared at the lacquered wood beneath her palms.

“Dads, huh?” Husk mumbled just above the rim of his bottle. His glowing eyes shifted from Charlie to anywhere else, then back.

“Huh?” Charlie looked up, eyes wide as if she was only now aware that she wasn’t alone. “Oh! Um, that’s… it’s not like that. I -”

“Don’t sweat it, princess.” Husk held up a free hand. “I’m not gonna say shit. You’re not the first kid ta get the shaft from their pop just cus he doesn’t understand that you’re a person too. You won’t be the last, either.”

Charlie’s mouth fell open, and she blinked at Husk in stunned silence while he put his near-empty bottle down and busied himself with polishing off some glasses (a nervous habit that he wasn’t interested in sharing).

He eventually got tired of her staring, and glared. “So, you want a drink or what? You’re takin’ up space if not.”

Charlie jumped in her seat. “Oh, yeah. Sure! Um, can I have some root beer, please?”

It was Husk’s turn to gape at her, brows rising to his hairline. Jesus Christ.

“You think a can of soda is gonna make you happy?” He asked gruffly. “I only got the kiddy cola stuff, no actual coke ya know.”

“Sugar makes people happy!” Charlie replied, though her indignance lacked any true heat. Eventually, her blonde head was ducking down again and she was shrugging. “But maybe it won’t be enough today.”

“Here.” In the blink of an eye, Husk had filled a shot glass full of amber liquid and let it glide across the table to the she-demon.

She reached out and caught the shot glass with a bewildered expression. Her eyes met Husk’s, and he made a point to look apathetic. “Stop that mopin’, can’t stand that shit.”

“I’m sor-”

“Just take the shot already.” Husk interrupted. He shook his head as the princess slowly followed his advice, infuriatingly tentative like a newborn fawn until she gagged while trying to down the alcohol as quickly as possible.

Thank fuck this skyscraper of a hotel had an elevator.

Husk had managed to corral Charlie’s bumbling self after a few agonizing minutes of overly-loud explanation. She’d agreed to go to bed, obviously with the need of help, as even on the way up to her suite, Husk needed to keep a steady hand on her shoulder. The motion of their coach was enough to unsteady her so that Charlie couldn’t even keep to the wall without being spooked over it.

Husk was over it long before they got to her floor, and only sighed before catching the young woman from falling straight out the sliding doors. The cat demon picked her up by her underarms and all but dragged her lightweight body across the hall.

Another heavy sigh left Husker as he maneuvered Charlie into one arm to grip the doorknob and open it with the other. She groaned, gripping onto his arm in an attempt to use it as a balance for standing up straight. It was, of course, incredibly difficult for some reason, with Husk hauling her forward at the same time.

“What? You wanna stand up, now?” He asked, tone condescending but light. The stubborn glare he received in return had all the fire of a wet match, but upon letting her go, he watched Charlie sway on her heels. “Alright kid, go on. Stand up.”

“Stop… being a jerk…” She murmured, words slurring stereotypically. The bend in her gait was gradually straightening up, but her glossy eyes never left him.

Ms. Magne managed to stand tall before actually giving him a once over, looking at him up and down.

Oh boy.

“Kiss -- me.” Charlie hiccuped in between words, arms held up and out like a child imploring that they be picked up. She fell forward, perhaps remembering when he’d caught her beforehand in the elevator and anticipating that he would acquiesce again.

It was tough luck for her though, when her companion merely pushed her back with the mild form of one paw.

Charlie fell back with a yelp, and Husk began to laugh, pitiless.

“You are wasted.” He leaned against the bedpost and stared at the princess fondly. It was hard not to laugh at Charlie while she pouted with her full cheeks and scrunched little nose. Still not all there, but willing to make a fool out of herself trying to prove otherwise.

“You’re no fun.” She huffed, shifting on the bed to lay right-side up. Her arms stretched, suit cuffs rubbing against the satin comforter as if she were getting comfortable.

The wariness that kept Husk’s tail twitching wasn’t unwarranted. Even a drunkard like himself was well-versed at tells, and the plain obvious. Charlie had been easy to read from the start, apart from her insatiable ambition to redeem sinners, and she was only slightly more clumsy in her stubborn behavior while intoxicated.

Husk counted backward from ten, pushing down the strange unease that came with watching a woman stretching in front of him.

Her big eyes flicked back to him, hazy but determined. Here we go.

Charlie thrashed, attempting to jump off the plush mattress to escape her involuntary caretaker before he simply stepped forward and let her run into his unyielding form.

“Hey, hey,” Husk immediately braced her with both hands. “Woah there, boozy. I took time outta my night to get your royal ass up here, now stay put.”

Charlie groaned, eyes rolling in the back of her skull for half a second as Husk assumed she was processing what he said. She let herself be firmly pushed back onto the mattress with Husk guiding her down.

She had grabbed him by the bowtie, and with formidable strength, pulled him down to her level and kissed the first thing she made contact with. Charlie’s puckered lips immediately opened as soon as she felt the corner of the cat demon’s mouth. She tongued his cheek, desperately searching for access to his mouth which subsequently formed into a grimace.

In the midst of his disgust, Husk supposed that being sloppily kissed by a blue blood was child’s play compared to other drunken behavior he’d experienced.

But then his eyes went wide, and his curled lips went slack as Charlie managed to actually find his mouth. She was halfway up from the bed, pressing her chest to Husk’s, drawing so close that he could no longer see her features as well as before. Dark, thick lashes brushed against his fur… and then he was opening his mouth.

Husk swore he felt the princess of Hell wiggle as he embraced her, paws secured over the delicate curve of her hips. Her tongue was soft, and Husk could taste the faint traces of alcohol she’d drunken, even as he tentatively reciprocated her actions.

The breathless little moan she then gave made Husk shiver, his head tilting back just so Charlie could follow him.

His paws rose, soothing her sides as he walked forward, guiding Charlie back to her bed for the third and final time. He asserted himself by pinning her down with his upper half, chest to chest even with the awkward angle. He’d become the aggressor, trying to swallow her whole while they sunk into the mattress.

Another moan had him pressing her down somewhat forcefully, seeking to hear that noise again. And again. The wings on Husk’s back were shaking like leaves on a tree, fighting not to stretch out to their full span with the adrenaline while the claws of his feet dug into the carpet beneath him.

Charlie broke away with a gasp, arcing into her companion just as he pulled her arms from around his neck. Husk groaned, heat shooting straight to his groin, while lifting himself off the princess.

“Uh…” He swallowed hard, instinctively patting down the fur on his head and chest. Time froze for an instant, with Charlie peering up at him from half-lidded eyes that, even in the shadows, sparkled with light.

Husk cleared his throat finally, though unable to break off eye-contact. He could see her lips quirk into a tiny smile, shining eyes drooping until they were slivers of black against her pale face.

He backed away from her bedside, half-expecting for her to try and get the drop on him again while he was still slightly huffing for breath. She stayed put, the rise and fall of her chest slowing into a relaxed rhythm while Husk opened the door behind him.

He turned to leave, hesitating only to look back at the silhouette of a sleeping princess.

“G’night, Charlie.” He spoke aloud before the door shut behind him.

#hazbin hotel #husk x charlie #i saw fanart for them years ago and I was like ‘adorable let’s goooooo’#husklie

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pbaintthetb · 29 days

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Invincibl3 s2e6 (spoilers )

spoiler spoiler watchy watchy nom nom

So like I knew Rex was gonna get shot in the head, yes it was a cliff hanger, but this is invincible and we know the stakes. Nobody was going to save him. Rip dude. Just as you were getting more tolerable.

Earth be fucked, wonder what the Lizard League want. Also like comics, so fatal injuries don't mean death, dying doesn't mean death

Immortal and Invincible's beef, but the way Immortal just crumples in acknowledgement when mark goes "I'm stronger and faster than you and you know it." like yeah, glad about this, it's not time for egos

the tension in the sequid scene though oof- and just as I thought it popped, oh no, eve and rudy adn eve's a lot more powerful and- oh there was extra juice, it's all fine

see I was originally anti "there's a duplikate prime somewhere" theory because I assumed she could only split from her original body, but thinking about the fight scene maybe that's not true. Maybe there ish hope, idk

Ummm. Rex? (~ (~ you... good?

"Perhaps you're too stupid to realise this, but you're suppposed to be dead" "SHUT UPPPPPP". lmao, deceased

bro he's punching king lizard with the jagged stump of his hand adkfalkdfjas;dklfja;sldkfjasl;dkfja;. This makes me uncomfy. Is the shard of bone like a knife?

OMG SHRINKING RAE WAS STILL ALIVE IN THERE!!!! I was hoping she'd just shrunk down again, yayayayayay. Maybe Kate prime is somewhere

Lmao, love the play back to the astronauts being executed where Mark is all, "Oh I understand" **jump cut to them runnign away**

hmm interesting, mark: you can't kill shapesmith, that would be bad, as a result I shall kill all of you. (Look I do know it's more complicated, a lot more, it was just when Mark went out and started destroying the ships and consequently dooming the martians within them made me wonder) Oh, they can happily float in space. Ok I take it back

fucking hell the room full of Kate's bodies

look I said it last time but I really like the fact that even if they don't spend a lot of time on it, Eve and Rex's history feels kinda fleshed out by all the spaces and stuff around it. This episode it's all the guardians looking at Shrinking rae's room while Eve is alone staring at Rex. he's a dick, he was a dick to her,they have an understanding of each other they can't get rid of even if they want to. Due to their work he will always be a part of her life even if he's not a friend Idk. I like it

"I loved many others before Kate. All of them died as well." -> immortality is a horror

Amber and Mark :-( the invisible wall of everything Invincible between them and they want to climb it and they can't. They can't.

I did not think Rex would be the person that Mark unloaded to, like at all. Ever. But I can see how unloading to the guy who doens't really like you and doesn't reallyl know you but still knows about you is easier than uh, Eve, his mum, or amber. still

What is it about being a superhero, where we go around saving lives, while ruining them at the same time."

Yeah yee, Debbie's sharp

see I like this other nanny, but I'm also kinda concerned as to how the GDA wants to raise Oliver

I like the cutting in Amber's and Mark's conversatins with Eve and Art respectively about their relationship issues, like how they kinda feel the same, the fact that they are really suited for each other but ultimately it doesn't work

.... the immortal can hold his breth in space? also oof rip allen, he just trying to be friendly- yay mark showed up to intervene!

also qustion how long can mark hold his breath? also also, lmao allen not knowing where mark lives

i love allen's speech patterns

.... viltrumites killing viltrumites don't kill each other much- anymore??? wdym "anymore"

appreciate mark saying he has responsibilites on earth, e.g. amber, oliver

oooooh the books

"Fucking martian, it wasn't enough that you left me to die on mars. You had to trash my place, too?" simultaneous LMAO and OOF and also oh god jeesh, yeah poor guy that's gotta be some adjustment to make on return mentally, poor Rus. Jeesh. Hope he's not gonna become evil though, pls, no one wants that

also the thing is like Shapesmith is hilarous and I love him and then I remember he fully tried to kill Rus and steal his life. That being said he is hilarious and I do love him and Rus is alive (uh, unintentionally) so uh, all's well that ends well?

actual 3rd serious question is, didn't Shapesmith move into the guardians cos he didn't know how to pay rent? How does Rus still have a place.

Oh fuck, as soon as I saw him coughing/spluttering I was like, shit he's gonna throw up a sequid isn't he. Well. Well le fuck.

poor guy :-(((, worrst luck in teh world. Which is also hilarious but jeez, Rus cannot catch a break, back on earth, thrown into a cess pit, and basically dies part way through tidying, poor dude

lmao Angstrom walking through the universes- was one of them the walking dead?. Anyway I haven't forgotten about Angstrom, but htere's been so much shit going on he'd been low on the radar and now it's all, oh god please no not now sir argghh- like i fully get his motivations but PLS NOH

i liekd this epiosde!, probably less than 5 but yeah deffo liked it

#invincible #invincible s2 #invincible season 2 #invincible s2 spoilers

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calqlate · 10 months

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GENSHIN CHARACTERS AS THINGS KPOP IDOLS SAY THAT SOUND FAKE BUT ARE REAL (BUT I TWEAKED SOME OF THEM A LITTLE BIT)

MASTERLIST

aether: my mom said she adopted me from under a bridge

albedo, regarding cyrus' speech: i learned a lot about the adventurers' guild and you were very kind to me. thank you so much. today's talk was really boring.

al-haitham: your mouth... delete

amber, trying to speak snezhnayan to collei for the first time: why sad? give up!

arataki itto, to kuki shinobu: i am a king! you are a... woman king!

baizhu: drink water, not alcohol

barbara, to rosaria: when you struggle to answer a question, remember barbatos is always the answer

beidou: i like girls... generation

bennett: i can't ever get married because i'm scared of having a son like me

candace: in my village, we kiss instead of shaking hands

childe: stay still, before i stab you with my tailbone

chongyun, playing the game about penguins on ice: sad, it's a sad game. it makes me think of global warming.

collei: i like the school gate the most. it feels so nice when i leave school.

cyno: i feel like, the possibility of all those possibilities being possible is just another possibility that could possibly happen

dehya: i should microwave these strawberries

diluc: drive sober or get a bus pass

diona: can i hit master diluc with this? [raises spoon]

dottore: if you play a trick again, i'm going to destroy your hands

eula: water from the knights' headquarters tastes like water

faruzan: i'm a scholar, it's not my job to act cute

fischl: you ugly things

ganyu: this is a little different from the hell i know

gorou: if someone bullies you, tell me and i'll take a shit in front of their house

hu tao: all aboard the trip to hell bus!

jean: people might not know that we are knights at first glance, but yes, we are knights

kaedehara kazuha, to someone (probably) before he fled from inazuma during the vision hunt decree: if anyone asks about me, tell them that i'm dead

kaeya, about the knights: we have amazing teamwork, we can even kiss each other

kamisato ayaka: that's outside of my abilities... good luck!

kamisato ayato: maybe you should eat make-up so you can be pretty on the inside too

kaveh: you know what else is big? my feet!

keqing, being asked to speak english: a b c d e d g...

kirara: unfortunately, in the morning, i couldn't say goodbye to my goose friend. i took a walk but it was too far away. i need to make a new [animal] friend in fontaine.

klee: thank you, god of wind!

kujou sara, to arataki itto: your behaviour is so... ugh

kuki shinobu, responding to the question "when are the arataki gang going to be on any shows?": our life is already an entertainment show

la signora: here, this is poison. die.

lisa: tomorrow exists so you can put off what you can do today

lumine, to zhongli about azhdaha: your dragon speaks teyvatian?

mika: if you can't be the best, be the worst

mona: i want to fall in love but i want to make money

nahida, reading the lyrics to bruno mars' versace on the floor: it seems romantic though?

nilou: everyone except for those who are driving, put your hands up!

ningguang: beidou's birthday present... i was planning on giving her a big slap on her face

noelle: [sniffs the air] it smells like a nose!

pantalone: it's not my phone. go ahead and lick your screen.

qiqi: are there any cats in liyue? ...yeah, there are cats in liyue.

raiden (ei): the fridge is my wife

raiden (shougun): my blood type is AB. that blood type is common among psychopaths.

razor: and i said, "bennett, you look sexy like a worm"

rosaria: my favourite colour is barbatos

sangonomiya kokomi: puppies are agents of capitalism, too. they only go after treats.

sayu: all i care about is sleeping

scaramouche: they all look like fools though

shenhe: that looks like it came from hell

shikanoin heizou: do what you want, do what you love. and if your love is me, well—

sucrose: he's not dead, right?

thoma: taromarou is so cute, you could die. really.

tighnari: there's nothing wrong with being a little dumb

venti: so, green grapes are green?

xiangling: the higher the calories, the better

xingqiu: we might get into trouble, but honestly, i don't kinda care

xinyan, responding to the question "how is it like being in the forest?": it was an honour meeting so many bugs

yelan: choose your words wisely

yae miko: my body is so hot, 'cause i'm so hot!

yanfei: kidney function is not a right, it's a privilege

yaoyao, talking about rudolph the red-nosed reindeer: maybe it was not a round nose at first, but it's swollen because santa hit it

yoimiya: this is my friend that we use a lot. say hello to the trampoline.

yunjin: being an otaku is not a sin!

zhongli, talking about his relationship with childe: we say we are brothers but what binds us is a legal contract

#💫—qq writes #writeblr #writing #you're a stan if yk who said each line originally #genshin impact incorrect quotes #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact hcs #genshin impact #genshin incorrect quotes #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin

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donttakecandyfromastranger · 2 years

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Life On Mars? (Dustin Henderson x Reader): Chapter Two: Hellfire Joins In

Description: Dustin tells the Hellfire Club about him fake dating Y/n at breakfast, then she talks to Hellfire at lunch.

Warning (s): cursing, mild kissing, mention of kissing

Masterlist Navigation

Dustin's Pov

I leave Y/n with her friends and join the rest of the Hellfire Club at the table next to Mike.

What the hell was that, Henderson? Eddie stands and asks angrily.

"Y/n Harrington? You two are dating?" Gareth enquires.

"What happened to Suzie?" Mike asks a query.

"We broke up," I reply. "We're trying to convince her friends that I'm her boyfriend, we're not actually dating."

Eddie says, "Looked pretty real to me."

I sneer, "It was supposed to,"

"That's fair," says Jeff in reply.

Chris nods in agreement. (AN: Wikipedia refers to him as "Unnamed Freak," but I'm going to call him Chris because he looks like a Chris.)

Y/n's Pov

Together with my friends Elena, Jessie, and Amber, we head to my locker. When I arrive, Dustin is already waiting while chatting with Chrissy and Lucas. He looks up when he sees me and says, "Hello, Honeybun."

I say, "Hey, Dusty."

In order for me to access my locker, Dustin moves away from it. He wraps an arm around my waist and gives me a cheek kiss.

Elena, Amber, and Jessie groan. Jessie announces, "We're going to lunch," and the three of them leave.

As soon as my friends are out of sight, Dustin releases his hold on me."I don't like this," Lucas says. "One day you'll get caught and be in deep shit."

"A lot of the cheer team will be angry with you," Chrissy adds.

"If that happens I'll say that it was a prank," I respond.

"You're a good liar," Lucas says, "I don't know if I should like that about you or not."

"You're a friend that I trust," I tell him, "So you should." I shut my locker and the four of us head to lunch.

Chrissy and I go sit with the cheerleaders once we have our lunch, Lucas with the basketball team, and Dustin with the Hellfire Club.

Why a nerd, Y/N? Hailey enquires.

He's cute, I like him, I dunno, I respond.

"How exactly did this happen?" Jesse queries.

I tell her, "He's best friends with Steve."

"What?" Amber asks with an odd expression.

I answer, "I don't know, but they're friends."

I ate my meal and then discarded my tray. I approach the table where Hellfire is seated. Eddie is shouting about the basketball team while standing on the table. He hops off the table when he sees me and lands a foot or so away. "If it isn't my favorite Certified Dumbass."

I say, "Hey, Titanium."

Eddie smirks jokingly, "One of my sheep told me that he's your fake boyfriend."

"Is that so?" I enquire, smirking in return.

"Yes", he responds. "I had best remain your favorite."

I respond, "Don't worry, you are. I begin to move in the direction of my friends, who are motioning for me to join them. When I walk behind Gareth, I stop and whisper to him, " You're actually my favorite."

I'm sitting in the driver's seat of my car with Dustin in the passenger seat.

"Do you think I went too far?" Dustin asks.

"No," I reply, "I think it was convincing."

"Okay," He mutters.

"You're a good kisser," I say mindlessly while backing out of the parking space. It's not until I see Dustin's flustered face that I realize what I had said. "Shit, I'm sorry. I don't have a filter."

"It's okay," He responds, his face bright red. "Looks like we're going to be doing more of it. I think you'd rather like it than hate it."

"That's true," I say.

Tag list (comment if you want to be added)

@steveharringtonswifey09 @barnaclebeeshive

#dustin henderson #dustin henderson x reader #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #stranger things #gareth #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #unnamed freak #the unnamed freak's name is now chris i don't make the rules #steve harrington #robin buckley #hawkins #mike wheeler #chrissy cunningham #oc characters that i added so that i didn't have to any friends constantly #Spotify

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treasurehuntergem · 1 year

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I’ve had this tweet saved for weeks thinking about how to apply it using my natal chart. I’ve been wanting to set up my altar for months but couldn’t think of how to get started - I had a small one up pre-renovation with some photos and trinkets. Anyhoo, I love these interpretations.

There are no planets in my Cancer-decorated 4th house, so I check in with its out-of-state landlord, the Moon. Where’s my Moon? Doing hoodrat things in my Mars-ruled 1st house of Aries. When I think of the energy of Aries, I think of being driven to take action; we have shit to do.

Applying that to the WHERE, the location of my altar, it seems it makes the most sense for a 1st house Aries Moon to place an altar by my front door. It could be the last thing I see as I head out into the world to do what I’m meant to do, and the first thing I see when I come in and need to ground myself back at home.

There’s a functional cart/shelf adjacent to my front door full of items that the Young Gems and I may need to get going. I could put a floating shelf above it that would be the base of the altar - out of reach of disruption, but in full view during the busiest routines of the day.

Looking to my 2nd house for items to add to the altar, we find my Venus and Mercury welcoming me to Taurus. It’s cozy as hell in here. I think of beautifully decorated objects, artistic things, luxurious scents.

I see myself adding some of my spare sari fabric and rotating with any of my headwrap fabrics, for lush texture. A Moroccan Amber reed diffuser for holy scent. My small sound bowl for accessible melodies. A very small quantity of fruit for taste. A full, 2nd house Venusian Taurean sensory experience.

Now, the 6th house serving as inspiration for rituals in this context is interesting to think about. There are no planets in my Virgo-decorated 6th house, so I check in once again with an out-of-state landlord, this one more Mercurial. Where’s my Mercury again? Bitch you guessed it. Taurus. How can I apply this to the act of ritual?

Well. Mercury is communication. Taurus rules the throat and indicates a harmonious voice with Venus and Mercury placements. So naturally as a Mercury-ruled 6th house native, I should explore talking to my ancestors as ritual. And maybe sing a little. Both coming and going.

Back to Cancer for a moment. This is what astrologers mean when they say a house is never truly empty, and this has extra meaning for me given that my Cancerian 4th house is the house of family, roots, home, private life, parents. I have no Cancer placements. And interestingly, none of my three children have Cancer placements either.

But many of the most significant people in my family, or who I once knew as family, have Cancer Suns. My mother has a Cancer Sun. So does my ex-spouse. So does my younger sister and one of my younger brothers. So do two of the three first cousins I grew up with. Not to mention one of my closest friends. So the 4th house is live and in 3D for ya girl.

With all that said, I feel I need to add some Cancerian elements to the altar to honor the spirit of the 4th house and the familial energy. I’m thinking some decorative pearls, seashells, iridescence.

Pearl is also the Youngest Gem’s middle name, and I have a lot of seashells on hand sent to me from…my Cancer Sun bestie.

More connections? The eldest Young Gem’s middle name is from my maternal grandmother, who will have a photo on the altar. Also, look at the date and time of the tweet if you hadn’t noticed the number syncs. The eldest Young Gem’s birthdate is a combo of 1s and 2s.

The middle Young Gem is a Virgo Sun, the sign of my 6th house of rituals.

Finally, seeing the number 1 repeat apparently means divine support and needing to trust myself and my guides. Seeing the number 2 repeat means a symbolic union/reunion. Those fit the altar themes. And my birthday this year will take me into the profection year of…none other than House 4.

I hear you, Universe! Lol

I’d love to see how others interpret this for their own natal charts and altars. Let’s get this spiritual bread.

#astrology #generational astrology #altar #spirituality #4th house #Spotify #profection year #2nd house #6th house #Virgo #Aries #Taurus #ancestral astrology #Cancer #Moon #Mercury #Venus

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rainbowangel110 · 10 months

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*cracks knuckles* Challenge accepted @bloodied-dagger :)

Have fun y'all :D

1: When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

More cereal cuz crunchy

2: Do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

Depends on if it's dry air or not, if it's dry, NOPE

3: What random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

Unlike a certain someone I actually use bookmarks! There were these bookmarks you can make so you just put em on the corner of the page that you're reading and it's really cute :D really easy to make

4: How do you take your coffee/tea?

I don't drink tea, but I drink the fluffy coffee that my mom makes

5: Are you self-conscious of your smile?

Sometimes when my picture is being taken, other times it's "Eh fuck it, we ball."

6: Do you keep plants?

Does the bouquet that my sister bought for me from HEB on b-day count?? (They were white daisies that were dyed a light blue)

7: Do you name your plants?

8: What artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

I normally just sketch it out whenever I feel like it

9: Do you like singing/humming to yourself?

In my head, but whenever no ones around it kinda spills out quietly (My singing voice is not great)

10: Do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

Side and back

11: What’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

Lol you guys hang out with your irl friends?

12: What’s your favorite planet?

I have a soft spot for Mars cuz it's what got me curious about space in the first place!

13: What’s something that made you smile today?

My mutuals hanging out with fun tags to read and Percy Jackson and The Sea of Monsters

14: If you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

We have our own rooms, with sunny windows and a balcony, maybe a cat, and it feels homey

15: Go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

Ain't googling nothing cuz!!! Did you know that if you fell into a black hole, you would see time speed up so fast that you could potentially see everything that happens for the rest of time? And on the other side, from the other persons perspective, you slow down so much that at some point you'd stop, and then disappear? This is because the black hole's point of singularity is so dense that it warps space-time really hard, it becomes an inverted pinpoint on the plane of reality :D

16: What’s your favorite pasta dish?

Normally my family just boil up some pasta and throw in veggies, meant, ketchup and soy sauce.

17: What color do you really want to dye your hair?

I think it's be cool if I had a dark blue fade in, cuz my hair is already really dark brown

18: Tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

Really old, from 7th grade lunch break, someone from the table asked "Hey, anyone know what the Spanish word for dog is?" and I confidentially go "Puta :D"

Which apparently means bitch :D so I guess I was half right?

19: Do you keep a journal? What do you write/draw/ in it?

20: What’s your favorite eye color?

OH it has to be amber or some form of heterochromia, sectoral or total to be exact, it's so pretty!

21: Talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

Applies to my school bag from middle school (which I don't have anymore). Thing was with me through thick and thin.

22: Are you a morning person?

*glances at the clock* *1:35 am* No

23: What’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Tumblr, Reddit, read, and if I feel like it, draw

24: Is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Doubt it

25: What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

Excuse me?! Yeah no never broken into a place before sorry

Oooh, a quarter of the way! Starting to regret opening the read more?

26: What are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

Sandals lol

27: What’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

Like Dagger said on his thing, bubblegum is a flavor. And like Dagger said, watermelon. You can't ever go wrong with watermelon gum :)

28: Sunrise or sunset?

Sunrises are pretty to look at I will say

29: What’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

When they ramble about something they're into and are very enthusiastic about it, very adorable.

30: Think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Yes

31: What is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

Socks are great, I don't wear em to bed tho. I have this pair of socks that have a base grey color with the border being blue and it has colorful stars on it

32: Tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

Lol I've never hung out with friends on occasion, and definitely not till 3 am

33: What’s your fave pastry?

Cupcakes ig (but not too much frosting!), and sugar cookies

34: Tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. What is it called? What does it look like? Do you still keep it?

I have this stuffed doll I got from my grandmother for my first birthday (or so I'm told) and it's blond with and orange hat, dress, and shoes. I still have it, it's in my closet.

35: Do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

They look cool but I've only ever had the multicolor pen

36: Which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

^ Has never listened to a band ever

37: Do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

I like it clean (rn my cousin is in my room with my sister so that one is REALLY messy, meanwhile the guest room I'm staying is really clean and I like it a lot :D)

38: Tell us about your pet peeves!

Muttering under your breath. Annoys the heck out of me

39: What color do you wear the most?

Blue cuz blue jeans lol

40: Think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

This pastel earring set shaped like flowers/hearts/butterflies that I have, very cute (don't wear it all that much but I like it)

41: What’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

The PJO set I have right next to me rn, Salt to the Sea, A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Rise of Kyoshi, Wings of Fire: Darkstalker

42: Do you have a favorite coffee shop? Describe it!

Don't have one

43: Who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

MAN I WISH

44: When was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

Rn ig, it's really chill

45: Do you trust your instincts a lot?

I use them to gauge how to respond to people sometimes

46: Tell us the worst pun you can think of.

What do you call a lamp training for a sporting contest? An O-LAMP-ic athlete :D

47: What food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Would have said tomatoes, but they actually have a use (ketchup, tomato sauce on pizza etc), so pickles it is

48: What was your biggest fear as a kid? Is it the same today?

Snakes and YES STILL SCARED OF EM

49: Do you like buying CDs and records? What was the last one you bought?

Never bought one

50: What’s an odd thing you collect?

I don't collect

Halfway there Dagger and Enb :)

51: Think of a person. What song do you associate with them?

Does a fictional person count? Actually fuck it, Nimona as "All is Soft Inside" by Aroura

52: What are your favorite memes of the year so far?

The Barbie and Ken mugshots are funny

53: Have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? Heathers? Beetlejuice? Pulp fiction? What do you think of them?

Nope, never seen a horror picture show

54: Who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

Can't recall

55: What’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

Y'all remember that one time Dagger was making a joke about us Live Slug Reaction-ing Sofi and Human and used Esme as an example, and we all said "NAH they do the same thing", and I screenshotted a bunch of their posts of them being lovey dovey? Twas a fun day.

56: What are some things you find endearing in people?

When they are passionate about something and ramble about it

57: Go listen to bohemian rhapsody. How did it make you feel? Did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I can't listen to it rn cuz it's late any my headphones are far away

58: Who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? Why?

No one really

59: What’s your favorite myth?

There's a lot to pick from here....

60: Do you like poetry? What are some of your faves?

Not really a poetry enthuisast

61: What’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? The stupidest one you’ve ever received?

My mom is like "Oh, your friend (who I haven't talked to in a long time) it grown up, lets get a gift card for her!"

And then there was that one time I got perfume. Not a person who wears perfume regularly mind you.

62: Do you drink juice in the morning? Which kind?

Does water count?

63: Are you fussy about your books and music? Do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

For my books? ABSOULUTLY!! Keep em safe so I can read em

64: What color is the sky where you are right now?

Black

65: Is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

My friends Alex, Carolyn, and Nicole

66: What would your ideal flower crown look like?

As long as it's pretty I'm okay with one :)

67: How do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

They feel cozy

68: What’s winter like where you live?

Cold wind but no snow

69: What are your favorite board games?

Scrabble and Ludo ig?? I like Uno better

70: Have you ever used a ouija board?

I would prefer not to mess with te spirits of those who must pass on

71: What’s your favorite kind of tea?

I don't drink tea

72: Are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

Nah not really.

73: What are some of your worst habits?

Chewing my nails and inside of my mouth

74: Describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

Artsy, talented, definitely got a hang on life

75: Tell us about your pets!

I don't have any

Almost there! 25 questions left :D

76: Is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

Sleeping :)

77: Pink or yellow lemonade?

Yellow

78: Are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

I wanna drop kick em

79: What’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

My sister making Pokémon drawings for me on my birthday

80: what color are your bedroom walls? Did you choose that color? If so, why?

They are the classic whitish color, was there when we got the house

81: Describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

Autumn but there's still green on some trees

82: Are/were you good in school?

I could do better honestly.

83: What’s some of your favorite album art?

Uhh I dunno any albums

84: Are you planning on getting tattoos? Which ones?

Never really been into tatoos

85: Do you read comics? What are your faves?

I have a Webtoons account, I love Hand Jumper, Purple Hyacinth, Castle Swimmer, Beetle Hands, Saphie the One Eyed Cat, Rooftops and Roommates, Lumine, Little Matcha Girl, Acception and there's more I'm blanking on

86: Do you like concept albums? Which ones?

Idk what those are sorry

87: What are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Nimona (sorry for the small spoilers Dagger!!), Spiderman ISV/ASV

88: Are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

Eh not really

89: Are you close to your parents?

Kinda

90: Talk about your one of you favorite cities.

Houston is okay??? If you ignore a lot of stuff

91: Where do you plan on traveling this year?

Eh, not really traveling anywhere

92: Are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

Honestly don't know, the soy sauce/meat/veggies do it for me

93: What’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

Was a ponytail until I got this haircut that's a little too short, so it's open until I'm able to tie it up again into a tiny ponytail

94: Who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

Charolette aka @angelcloves

95: What are your plans for this weekend?

Spend time with my cousin, maybe work on this draft of LDRAU

96: Do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

Procrastinate, but not a lot

97: Myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

No fucking clue, Cancer, never looked it up and never gonna

98: When’s the last time you went hiking? Did you enjoy it?

No clue man

99: List some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

"Pokémon Legends Arcus: Giratina"

Runaway by Aurora (I think it's neat)

"Help! Oh Well" by Something Else YT (Again, it's cool)

100: If you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? Why?

On one hand, I can go back in time and help younger me know that the bullies are gonna be gone soon, and that we'll be fine (and maybe deck said bullies while I'm at it), but on the other hand I'm uncertain about the future and myself. Can I take both? I want both please

AND THAT'S THE END FOLKS :D .... Hello?? Anypony still here???

Oh. Well, I'll leave this here if anyone wants to answer all of the question or reblog it :)

#ask game #just posting #it's now 2:31 am here hahahahahahaaha

6 notes · View notes

cyarskj1899 · 1 year

Text

https://pitchfork.com/features/lists-and-guides/best-songs-2022/

The 100 Best Songs of 2022

By PitchforkDecember 5, 2022

Featuring the 1975, Kendrick, Steve Lacy, Alvvays, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Glorilla, and more

Image by Callum Abbott, photos via Getty Images

In a year so bizarre that a Kate Bush single from three decades ago somehow topped the charts, it’s fitting that some of the year’s best tracks felt like wildcards. Rising rappers (Glorilla, Ice Spice, and Flo Milli) took over hip-hop, indie comeback kids (Alvvays, Alex G) wrote genre hits, electronic experimentalists (Alan Braxe, Rachika Nayar, Two Shell) kept us on our toes, R&B singers (Amber Mark, Yaya Bey) dug deep into explorations of self, and the biggest pop stars (Harry Styles, Beyoncé, Taylor Swift) couldn’t help but lean into nostalgia. Here are the best songs of the year. (And no, “Running Up That Hill,” released in 1985, was not eligible.)

Listen to selections from this list on our Spotify playlist and Apple Music playlist.

Check out all of Pitchfork’s 2022 wrap-up coverage here.

100.

Harry Styles: “As It Was”

“As It Was” is the kind of twinkly little confection that would easily get the indie kids pogoing at any local DIY dance night at any point in the last two decades. It just happens to have been recorded by one of the biggest pop stars in the world in 2022 instead of, say, the Strokes twenty years earlier. “You know it’s not the same as it was,” Harry Styles sighs, giving a nod to the easy bait of nostalgia. A pointillist synth line tap dances through the song, and all over that nagging pandemic-era malaise we’re all desperately trying to shake. Resistance is futile. –Amy Phillips

Trending Now

Open Mike Eagle Rates Punching Nazis, Taylor Swift, and Pop Tarts

Listen: Harry Styles, “As It Was”

99.

Black Midi: “Welcome to Hell”

Many songs have contended that war is hell; few have ever depicted that hell as crazed as this. Black Midi’s “Welcome to Hell” is four minutes of disorientation, a trillion-BPM assault on the senses that plays like Saving Private Ryan’s Normandy scene as a fast-forwarded Bugs Bunny cartoon. Somewhere amid all the Les Claypool riffage and incalculable time signatures, the band squeezes in a bizzaro homage to Shirley Bassey’s James Bond themes. The ridiculousness of the pastiche doesn’t dull its intensity one bit. –Evan Rytlewski

Listen: Black Midi, “Welcome to Hell”

98.

Phoenix: “Tonight” [ft. Ezra Koenig]

More than 25 years into their career, Phoenix are still finding new ways to sound brilliantly, effortlessly cool. Case in point: “Tonight,” a smooth collaboration with Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig. Drunk on the promise of a great night out, frontman Thomas Mars charms his way through dinner and the course of an entire relationship in the span of one magical encounter. A sobering, early-morning apology inspires a fleeting moment of self-reflection as the vocalists pause, muse existentially about their endless partying, and ultimately resolve to do it all again, just one verse later. It’s an endearing defense of the pleasure principle from two guys who have seen their share of debauchery—but goddamn if it doesn’t sound fun. –Rob Arcand

Listen: Phoenix, “Tonight” [ft. Ezra Koenig]

97.

Tomberlin: “happy accident”

Tomberlin got to know her new home of New York by walking it. “happy accident,” from her sophomore album I Don’t Know Who Needs to Hear This…, unravels like an aimless meander through the city with unruly thoughts spiraling out along the path. Set to Cass McCombs’ elliptical guitar loop and thumps of percussion that land like leaden footsteps, the singer-songwriter interrogates a relationship that has been ambiguous for too long, her voice seething and weary. A relationship, just like a walk, isn’t always in need of a destination, and “happy accident” lingers brutally in the uncertainty of what might come next. –Carrie Courogen

Listen: Tomberlin, “happy accident”

96.

Ela Minus / DJ Python: “Pájaros en Verano”

What’s there to be grateful for in a hopeless world? According to Ela Minus, clouds, crickets, and sleep, to name a few. “Pájaros en Verano” is an ode to the quotidian pleasures we often ignore. Her praise for the small stuff pairs perfectly with DJ Python’s bubbly production, led by a bright, sweet mallet-like synth that meanders through minimal percussion. It’s a subtle anthem that invites you to slow down and linger on life’s simple delights. –Arjun Srivatsa

Listen: Ela Minus / DJ Python, “Pájaros en Verano”

95.

Horse Lords: “May Brigade”

Horse Lords has spent the past 12 years on a quest for utopia, seeking freedom and euphoria within the structures of their experimental rock music. On “May Brigade,” a clashing, raucous pattern born out of microtonal crunch and minimalist repetition morphs into free jazz freneticism, and distant saxophone trills get swallowed by drones and shimmering static. The song’s effortless abandon shows us the bliss that lies beneath Horse Lords’ heady ideas; within its sharp twists and turns there lies a motivating joy—a reminder to always keep on keeping on. –Vanessa Ague

Listen: Horse Lords, “May Brigade”

94.

Julia Jacklin: “Lydia Wears a Cross”

“Lydia Wears a Cross” is like driving rain, slapping you in the face, reminding you that you are both awake and alive. Julia Jacklin sings about religion and what it’s like to be a girl, sitting in the pews, whispering holy words without knowing what any of it means. She prays for Princess Diana; she listens to the Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack. “I’d be a believer,” she sings, “If it was all just song and dance.” Around her, a fuzzed-out guitar crashes into a kick drum. It’s a look back at childhood, where real sorrow and brutal honesty outweigh nostalgia. –Sophie Kemp

Listen: Julia Jacklin, “Lydia Wears a Cross”

93.

4s4ki: “Punish”

“Punish” explores nihilistic self-loathing through a multi-genre electronic fantasia. The Saitama-based hyperpop artist 4s4ki alternates between clear and Auto-Tuned singing across the song’s quickly shifting sonics, which incorporate sounds from digicore and Japanese hip-hop. Her scream of the titular “punish!” flashes like a brief, electric glitch against the serrated drum‘n’bass chorus—a cry for help enmeshed in a suffocating, cybernetic pop landscape. –Zhenzhen Yu

Listen: 4s4ki, “Punish”

92.

Wednesday: “Bull Believer”

Wednesday’s “Bull Believer” is a two-act grunge odyssey in which lead vocalist Karly Hartzman jumps from chronicling Spanish bullfighting to describing being ignored by the guy she loves at a party. The dizzying song alternates between abrasion and solace, cranking back up just as it reaches a point of melancholic calm; monstrously heavy guitars and lap steel squelch beneath Hartzman’s guttural screams. As her paramour is distracted playing Mortal Kombat, she echoes the video game’s calls to “finish him!,” crying torturously before coming back for one final whisper—a satisfying end to an emotional nine-minute-long journey. –Margeaux Labat

Listen: Wednesday, “Bull Believer”

91.

Two Shell: “Pods”

Anonymous UK bass and hyperpop pranksters Two Shell insist that they aren’t trolls, which rings true. What kind of troll only spreads joy? The opening tremolo of “Pods” flies like a shuttle over a laser-weaving loom, and its 15-second breakdown feels more like being in a video game than any point of Ready Player One. There’s a Sunset Strip guitar solo with baroque overtones; an opera-cloaked organ tone is stuffed with hyphy vocals and capped with an EDM riser. Too good to be untrue, Two Shell filigree the line between mystery and mischief. They’ll probably turn out to be AI. –Brian Howe

Listen: Two Shell, “Pods”

90.

Joe Rainey: “bezhigo”

Joe Rainey’s music attests to the importance of community. A member of the Red Lake Nation of Ojibwe people, Rainey knows the value of surrounding yourself with others who inspire you, and this belief underlines every track on his debut Niineta, a deep collaboration with producer Andrew Broder that remembers loved ones who’ve passed and samples decades’ worth of pow wow recordings. Standout “bezhigo” weaves together three separate recordings of Indigenous vocalizing, and as the string arrangements surge, a steady beat arrives in the form of industrial clang, sounding like the repeated strikes of a blacksmith’s hammer. There’s beauty, “bezhigo” suggests, in forging one’s identity, purpose, and dreams alongside those who share your vision. –Joshua Minsoo Kim

Listen: Joe Rainey, “bezhigo”

G.O.O.D. Music / Def Jam

89.

Pusha T: “Diet Coke”

You gotta hand it to Pusha T—it takes dedication to still strive toward drug-rap perfection 20 years after making a song as good as “Grindin.” On “Diet Coke,” he raps over an 88-Keys beat that’s old enough to be called up for jury duty—all vacuum-packed drums and scratched-in vocal samples—but King Push has always made his music outside of linear time, peddling rhymes as eternal as the drug trade itself. “Master recipes under stove lights” he explains on the hook, ostensibly a reference to crack, but he could also be talking about how he manages to pull off this one kind of track again and again. –Dean Van Nguyen

Listen: Pusha T, “Diet Coke”

88.

Panda Bear / Sonic Boom: “Edge of the Edge”

Panda Bear and Sonic Boom began their joint album Reset with a simple premise: take the opening moments from great songs of the 1950s and ’60s, loop them, and shape their compositions out from there. “Edge of the Edge” uses Randy & the Rainbows’ “Denise” as its melodic germ, augmenting the 1963 doo-wop hit’s sweet and simple melody with sleigh bells, hand claps, and Panda Bear’s bittersweet croon before beaming in transmissions of dial tones and modem sounds from a less distant past. It’s an infectiously catchy tune that transcends time as it embodies these trusted collaborators’ experimental spirit. –Shy Thompson

Listen: Panda Bear / Sonic Boom, “Edge of the Edge”

Saddest Factory / Dead Oceans

87.

MUNA: “What I Want”

Not since Jonathan Richman’s “I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar” has a pop song so perfectly captured the bubbly joy of taking sips, shaking hips, and regarding leather dykes with love. But “What I Want” is about self-love too. MUNA singer Katie Gavin doesn’t want to just date a girl, she wants a girl to want to date her. The song hits hard on a dancefloor and even harder in a graffiti-spattered bathroom; face the mirror, freshen your lipstick, and mouth the hook: “There’s nothing wrong with what I want.” –Peyton Thomas

Listen: MUNA, “What I Want”

86.

Burial: “Strange Neighbourhood”

You could say that “Strange Neighbourhood” and the almost-album it comes from, Antidawn, are formulaic—but it’s a formula Burial patented. He owns this sound: the shivery shards of imploring vocals that flare up like embers aloft on the wind, the funeral-parlor organ swells, the moist reverberance and muffled found sounds, the disconcerting pauses and glitchy lapses where it feels like the track is giving up the ghost. Rather than seeming like déjà vu, this 11-minute audio-movie evocation of the hauntedness of urban space feels as fresh and original as the first time you heard Burial. You start to think he could carry on like this forever. –Simon Reynolds

Listen: Burial, “Strange Neighbourhood”

85.

Ka: “Ascension”

In the first verse of “Ascension,” Ka describes his style as “measured efficiency.” Indeed, the veteran rapper and producer has cut away all excess from his music, be it programmed drums or nonessential syllables and details. And on this highlight from Languish Arts, one of two albums he dropped in September, the Brownsville, Brooklyn native pries into his childhood—a topic that has grown more central to his writing in recent years—to explain why he believes this cool remove is not only an aesthetic choice but a moral good. Sampled reminiscences about family bookend the song, while Ka bounces, as ever, between the material and metaphysical, the days “long as the solstice” and the uncles’ lives cut short. –Paul A. Thompson

Listen: Ka, “Ascension”

84.

Sharon Van Etten: “Anything”

“Anything” is about an undefined anxiety so persistent, it numbs everything else, and keeps you up until dawn. At first, Sharon Van Etten’s admission of ambivalence in the face of war and climate collapse—“I didn’t feel anything”—seems like a self-soothing mantra. But this booming standout from her album We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong pivots at the bridge, when her lover comforts her, providing a moment of connection that nudges her away from the emptiness. As the song builds from spare, haunted strums to a surging crescendo, Van Etten’s tone flips, and by the end she’s belting out her unfeeling thoughts with palpable desperation. –Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Listen: Sharon Van Etten, “Anything”

83.

Cole Pulice: “City in a City”

Normally, Oakland saxophonist Cole Pulice uses live-signal processing to stretch their loosely winding jazz into sinuous, squishy shapes. But “City in a City,” the centerpiece of their wonderfully amorphous album Scry, features no such electronic manipulation. The song glides around two tumbling piano chords, as Pulice lets their unadorned saxophone lead the way, dancing up and down its range with autumnal grace. As transporting as Pulice’s more overtly experimental work can be, they’ve never made anything quite so simple and stunning. –Sam Goldner

Lisen: Cole Pulice, “City in a City”

82.

Bandmanrill: “Real Hips”

Bandmanrill never wastes a good sample. On “Real Hips” the kinetic Newark rapper comes through with the zeal of a personal trainer, transforming a Jersey club classic into a HIIT workout aimed at your abductors. DJ Bake and KilSoSouth ensure the beat is both vigorous and elastic—the right balance for Bandmanrill to rifle through talk of parents, success, and paranoia. He always comes back to that instructional, hands-on-hips hook, though, because this is a reminder that, for how frenzied life can be, having a good time should reign supreme. –Joshua Minsoo Kim

Listen: Bandmanrill, “Real Hips”

81.

Animal Collective: “Royal and Desire”

Animal Collective have done all the woodsy jamborees and primeval oozing and childlike explorations one could ever ask for, but “Royal and Desire” is above all beautiful—hardly one of the first words used to describe most Animal Collective songs. Deakin takes a commanding lead on the closer of Time Skiffs, their best album in more than a decade, with the rest of the band rising behind him in gaseous harmony. The music is sweet and legato, the sound is psychedelic rock falling from a soft-serve machine. This is AnCo at their most imperial, slowly stepping down the aisle, climbing atop the dais, and solemnly placing a lava lamp on the altar. –Jeremy D. Larson

Listen: Animal Collective, “Royal and Desire”

80.

Kelela: “Washed Away”

Over the course of three fully realized projects in the mid-2010s, Kelela wove together R&B’s tenderness with the ruggedness of club music, showing us that in allowing pain and pleasure to coexist, we might succeed in forging a path from the former to the latter. And then she disappeared. “Washed Away,” her first new song in five years, explores the aftermath of reconciliation and the eternal question of what happens next. While some might succumb to neurosis and anguish, Kelela chooses peaceful meditation. Devoid of both kick drums and confessional lyrics, the ambient track embraces the vast unknown of the future with a grace akin to ocean mist landing gently on bare skin. –Jessica Kariisa

Listen: Kelela, “Washed Away”

79.

Gilla Band: “Backwash”

Gilla Band wisely recognize that nearly all of the best ideas about how guitar bands can move on from punk come from hip-hop and electronic music. “Backwash” is the Irish band’s culminating proof-of-concept: As abrasive as it is propulsive, as direct as it is diffuse, the song runs post-punk’s basics through production tricks you can learn from modern-rap masterpieces like Playboi Carti’s Whole Lotta Red or Earl Sweatshirt’s Some Rap Songs. The guitars are subjected to blown-out digital processing with no regard for how the sound might be replicated onstage; lyrics about the horror of binge-watching Big Brother cumulate into a deluge of consciousness. Even the title is an inversion of punk-rock cliché: “Backwash” isn’t an image of spitting into someone’s face, but choking on your own disgust. –Ian Cohen

Listen: Gilla Band, “Backwash”

78.

Yung Kayo: “hear you” [ft. Eartheater]

Yung Kayo’s glitchy warble makes for a natural fit within Young Thug’s YSL roster, but the Washington, D.C. native’s music feels closer in spirit to the glittery rave-pop of Drain Gang than to Atlanta trap. On “hear you,” Kayo leaves the material realm, ascending to a dimension of pure light and sound. The presence of Queens-based experimentalist Eartheater might seem leftfield for an album that also features Gunna and Yeat, but her almost-inhuman vocal range makes for a symbiotic duet with Kayo’s unpredictable crooning. –Nadine Smith

Listen: Yung Kayo / Eartheater, “hear you” [ft. Eartheater]

77.

Porridge Radio: “Back to the Radio”

“Back to the Radio,” the momentous opener that sets the table for Porridge Radio’s third album of vein-bulging post-punk, is essentially one big crescendo. Spartan melodies cut through drums that jitter with nervous energy, as the British band approximates the feeling of walls closing in. Meanwhile, frontwoman Dana Margolin fills in the scenes of a hollow relationship: a house on lockdown, mutters in a slow-moving car. Porridge Radio render this quotidian prison so evocatively, it’s hard to not want to stay a while. –Mehan Jayasuriya

Listen: Porridge Radio, “Back to the Radio”

76.

Mabe Fratti: “Cada Músculo”

At first, “Cada Músculo” is a thicket of riddles and warnings—a brawny cello rises and lunges, a sibilant violin snarls and lashes, an inquisitive synth taunts and vanishes. This is how the Mexico City-based composer and singer Mabe Fratti renders our vexing world. Her voice glides through the mess, disarming it through self-sovereignty: “Cada músculo tiene una voz,” or “Every muscle has a voice.” Those rough sounds soften when she opens her mouth, sorted into something like breezy chamber pop, the mysteries of this moment temporarily banished. The end’s howling strings are a stark reminder of the iterative effort that existence demands. –Grayson Haver Currin

Listen: Mabe Fratti, “Cada Músculo”

75.

Earl Sweatshirt: “Tabula Rasa” [ft. Armand Hammer]

After a pair of laconic records whose goal seemed, at times, to obfuscate, Earl Sweatshirt returned this year with SICK!, an album dominated by songs that cut through the noise. Its centerpiece is “Tabula Rasa,” a patient piano number that pairs him with the unvarnished New York duo Armand Hammer. While Elucid and billy woods rap—vividly—about human connections made, broken, and fraying, Earl details the way a similar disintegration forced him to remake himself. “This game of telephone massive,” he raps during his loping verse. “I do what I have to with the fragments.” –Paul A. Thompson

Listen: Earl Sweatshirt, “Tabula Rasa” [ft. Armand Hammer]

74.

Ibibio Sound Machine: “Protection From Evil”

Like a fog machine dosed with sage oil, the opening track of Ibibio Sound Machine’s Electricity brings a heady rush to the disco. Over a cauldron of stomp and shimmer, British-Nigerian frontwoman Eno Williams repeats her incantation: “Spiritual/Invisible/Protection/From evil.” Produced by Hot Chip, the song hovers at the crossroads of Afrobeat and electronic pop, mixing horns, synths, and robotic vocalizations. Each element amplifies Williams’ impassioned chant, a benediction delivered with the haunted force of an exorcism. –Judy Berman

Listen: Ibibio Sound Machine, “Protection From Evil”

73.

Babyface Ray: “Sincerely Face”

Plenty of local scenes around the country tried to recapture the magic of Michigan rap this year, but none of them boasted a one-of-a-kind character like Detroit’s own Babyface Ray. “Sincerely Face” lays out what has made Ray such a pillar: Through his icy delivery, basic rap flexes about Rolexes, courtside seats, and steakhouse dinners sound revelatory. Over a chilly beat, he shrugs his way through a mix of life lessons with inimitable cool. It’s the type of song where the fly aura rubs off on you every time you play it. They only make ’em like this in Michigan. –Alphonse Pierre

Listen: Babyface Ray, “Sincerely Face”

72.

Eliza Rose / Interplanetary Criminal: “B.O.T.A. (Baddest of Them All)”

Taking inspiration from an immaculate poster for the 1973 Pam Grier blaxploitation film Coffy, every flirty bar and bubbly riff of “B.O.T.A.” oozes cool. Sassy organ house has long lit up British dancefloors, but topping the charts was hardly a forgone conclusion for underground UK Garage producer-DJs Eliza Rose and Interplanetary Criminal. After meeting the accelerant of TikTok, though, the tune’s explosion felt inevitable; it began festival season as a limited pressing and ended it as the hottest record in the UK and Ireland. In a year that resurfaced important debates about the ownership and authenticity of dance music, two things about “B.O.T.A.” ring true: It belongs to the people, and it’s real as fuck. –Gabriel Szatan

Listen: Eliza Rose / Interplanetary Criminal, “B.O.T.A. (Baddest of Them All)”

71.

Shygirl: “Coochie (a bedtime story)”

“Coochie (a bedtime story)” is the sweetest X-rated lullaby imaginable. Shygirl starts things off on a direct line with, well, pussy, sounding like she’s cooing into an old Nokia phone: “Hello? Is anyone there? It’s the coochie calling.” What follows is a soft, funny testament to the UK artist’s unapologetic sexuality, its liquid beat gliding, stuttering, and zipping under her airy vocals. That Shygirl can proclaim her own horniness with such cuteness and levity is a coochie-attracting combination in and of itself. –Margeaux Labat

Listen: Shygirl, “Coochie (a bedtime story)”

70.

Oso Oso: “Computer Exploder”

Like a drunk staggering across the beach, “Computer Exploder” lurches toward its chorus in fits and starts. The sunny skies of the opening verse are soon clouded with references to heartbreak and addiction, collapsing in a screeching rush. The hook, when it finally arrives, flashes Oso Oso’s signature blend of surf-rock guitars and emo harmonies, the love and drugs complicated by frontman Jade Lilitri’s self-referential songwriting. “When nothing goes quite like you planned it/Write 12 songs, swing like you can’t miss,” he sings in a nod to his latest album’s tracklist. The go-for-broke candor captures Lilitri’s ambition, casting him as a heavy-hitting rocker in an era that’s all but dispensed with them. –Pete Tosiello

Listen: Oso Oso, “Computer Exploder”

69.

Mavi: “Baking Soda”

On the sun-kissed “Baking Soda,” producers Monte Booker and Amarah break down the beat so radically that its melodic tendons barely attach to the rhythmic spine—when Mavi murmurs, “I been gave my soul away to the drum, I’mma live forever” on the chorus, the drum itself feels a hair’s breadth away from oblivion. It’s a complementary backdrop for the heady North Carolina rapper’s elusive insights; what does it mean, exactly, when he says, “And your tears is now trees”? The meaning blooms in the line’s lovely, lingering after-image, as the beat crumbles and rebuilds itself like the last dregs of a dream. –Jayson Greene

Listen: Mavi, “Baking Soda”

68.

Dehd: “Bad Love”

Dehd’s Emily Kempf is howling with her chest, sprinting at top speed towards a new dawn. The beatific “Bad Love” is more than a bold mea culpa for hurting people in the past, it’s a rapturous embrace of the dangerous task of loving again. Kempf stutters syllables in her quest for “re-re-redemption,” her hopscotching vocal rhythms echoed by machine-gun bursts of snare and sparse guitar licks. With the wind in her sails, her roars swell in size, pushing past the timidity of heartbreak to arrive at one of the most invigorating indie rock anthems of the year. –Jesse Locke

Listen: Dehd, “Bad Love”

67.

Koffee: “Pull Up”

Koffee boasts about her new luxury lifestyle on “Pull Up,” but it’s never arrogant or sanctimonious. Over an aquatic beat from British-Ghanaian producer Jae5, the Jamaican singer’s orotund voice feels celebratory, a match for a track that bridges the sunny textures of dancehall and Afrobeats. If anyone else leaned out of the window of a drifting car and sang about pulling up to the party in an Audi, it’d probably feel boring and out-of-touch. But when Koffee does just that in the video, her mouth full of braces, you can’t help but grin along with her. –Isabelia Herrera

Listen: Koffee, “Pull Up”

66.

Hagop Tchaparian: “Right to Riot”

The most immediate cut on British-Armenian producer Hagop Tchaparian’s startling debut album Bolts, “Right to Riot” merges worlds. Droning zurna melodies and tumbling dhol drums vie clamorously for our attention, but Tchaparian’s mastery of more traditional tactics—rising bass, cleansing releases, and a sample looped to sound like an alarm—make the track a gem of contemporary techno, whittling down the Four Tet collaborator’s sweeping vision into a sharp point. –Daniel Felsenthal

Listen: Hagop Tchaparian, “Right to Riot”

65.

Arctic Monkeys: “Body Paint”

Although the meta space-lounge of 2018’s Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino felt like a departure, this year’s The Car reinforced how elusive Arctic Monkeys’ debonair art-rock has always been. “Body Paint,” the album’s cinematic centerpiece, belongs in the revered UK band’s pantheon of slippery slow burners, alongside enigmatic 2000s ballads “505” and “Cornerstone.” Swapping orchestral swoon for glam-rock crunch midway through—right after Alex Turner croons, “And if you’re thinking of me/I’m probably thinking of you”—the song is an emotive puzzle, obsessed with artifice and lingering smudges you can’t wash away. –Marc Hogan

Listen: Arctic Monkeys, “Body Paint”

64.

Perfume Genius: “Ugly Season”

On the LGBTQ+ anthem “Queen,” Mike Hadreas embraced the power in being viewed by homophobes as a “sea witch with penis tentacles.” Eight years later, over the skeletal reggae beat of “Ugly Season,” his exploration of queerness veers further left: He is a heathen outcast finding abject pleasure and autoerotic arousal in filth, rot, and hearty handfuls of Vaseline. Hadreas’ voice is high and pure amid guttural screams and mammalian lurches, offering hymnic bon mots that could have been written by Jean Genet: “Split, black, pit.” This year, as queer artists powerfully embraced monstrousness-as-dissent, “Ugly Season” burrows into outsider living to emerge as a swamp creature with carnal allure and a tender caress. –Owen Myers

Listen: Perfume Genius, “Ugly Season”

63.

Azealia Banks: “New Bottega”

Azealia Banks considers the difference between fashion (what you wear) and style (what you possess) on “New Bottega,” which is to say, she is aware of how much she lays claim to. Some of the biggest albums this year drew on club sounds like a strategy, but the Harlem-bred Banks has always made a home inside house music. As she lists the names of designers she likes and doesn’t like in a bad Italian accent, “New Bottega” enters into the Banksian capsule collection—a staple in a malcontent designer’s oeuvre. –Mina Tavakoli

Listen: Azealia Banks, “New Bottega”

62.

Fever Ray: “What They Call Us”

This is the sound of crisis approaching from all sides: the escalating cruelties against its subjects (“did you hear what they call us?”) and the indifference of those watching it happen (“can you fix it, can you care?”). In a desperate plea for mercy, Karin Dreijer sings as if they’re grinding their teeth down to the nerve; the track shudders and startles at every turn, desolate synths circling the arrangement like vultures above wasteland. Despite this, “What They Call Us” is not the sound of defeat. It’s a defiant snarl in the face of circumstance: “I will stay if I dare.” –Katherine St. Asaph

Listen: Fever Ray, “What They Call Us”

61.

Amber Mark: “What It Is”

Uncertainty can gnaw at your psyche, boxing out every other thought. But Amber Mark imbues the troubling feeling with celestial wonder on “What It Is,” looking to a higher power to answer her questions following a failed love. The neat and simmering groove moves in lockstep underneath the R&B singer’s vocals, which mix her patient tone with agile vocal runs and gasping harmonies. Adrift in a stream of milky synths, she shows how powerful it is to be lost. –Brandon Callender

Listen: Amber Mark, “What It Is”

60.

Plains: “Problem With It”

The charm of Katie Crutchfield and Jess Williamson’s album is how they seamlessly combine their simpatico strengths—the plainspoken emotiveness, the pretty melodies, the diaristic attention to experiences big and small—into easy-breezy country-pop that wouldn’t sound out of place on Nashville radio. “Problem With It” is the shining jewel from their debut LP as Plains, an airy travelogue of deep feelings about wanderlust and wack lovers that glides by like a fast car on an empty interstate. And the harmonies! There’s true joy in their vocal communion, most striking when the instruments drop out and it’s just the two of them singing, finding their peace and place in the world within each other’s presence. –Jeremy Gordon

Listen: Plains, “Problem With It”

59.

Alabaster DePlume: “Don’t Forget You’re Precious”

The Mancunian saxophonist and spoken-word artist Alabaster DePlume meanders through the stuff stuck in his mind: an ex’s email address, a train transfer, assorted strings of identifying digits. Despite these thoughts—or even deeper, more abstracted aches—he delivers a serene reminder of what matters most. “They can’t use us on one another if we don’t forget we’re precious,” he offers. Against airy background vocals and fluttering strings, DePlume’s comforting reassurance feels like a secular blessing, a private rallying point away from life’s greedy clamor. –Allison Hussey

Listen: Alabaster DePlume, “Don’t Forget You’re Precious”

58.

Kehlani: “melt”

Kehlani’s desire for intimacy is insatiable, even as they tangle with their lover in bed. Over Happy Perez and Pop Wansel’s blissful backbeat, Kehlani meticulously and melismatically details a fantasy where they share a physical form with their partner, with only Kehlani’s tattoos differentiating them. In an era flush with sapphic love songs, “melt” stands out for both its grandiose string arrangement and its specificity, finding the most happiness in quiet moments. –Hannah Jocelyn

Listen: Kehlani, “melt”

57.

Camp Cope: “Running With the Hurricane”

Fiona Apple spread like strawberries and climbed like peas and beans; Camp Cope run with the hurricane, setting aside the heavy balloon of depression and obsessive self-loathing to keep pace with the forces that might otherwise knock them flat. There’s some Springsteen-y heroism in their full-pelt charge towards daylight—“Look out boys/I’m on fire and I’m not going out,” Georgia Maq announces—but the Australian trio is mostly guided by their country-punk foremothers: the Chicks, Lucinda Williams, Gillian Welch, Neko Case. The song rattles along in a lovely cacophony of jangling piano, lunging bass, and a baton-swap of choruses, like some junker with sturdy suspension and everything else nailed down just barely enough to make your escape. –Laura Snapes

Listen: Camp Cope, “Running With the Hurricane”

Parkwood Entertainment / Columbia

56.

Beyoncé: “Break My Soul”

“Break My Soul” demands its listeners leave all psychic weight at the door. “Release the stress!” a Big Freedia sample commands inside an Earth-shaking house pulse, as Beyoncé presides over the dancefloor like she just rode in on the back of a hologram horse. Bey gives a fully embodied performance that invites the rest of us to luxuriate inside our own bodies—to spit out the toxins and savor the pleasure that floods in once they’re gone. Unleashed at the height of summer, “Break My Soul” ushered in a sorely needed season of abandon and relief, serving as balm and catalyst at the same time. –Sasha Geffen

Listen: Beyoncé, “Break My Soul”

55.

Black Country, New Road: “Basketball Shoes”

It’s impossible to know precisely how many songs have been written about Charli XCX wet dreams, but you could reasonably assume only one is a 12-minute chamber-rock requiem whose reference to Concord Air Jordans bore a concept record about the Concorde jet disaster. “Basketball Shoes” erupts with the essentials of Black Country, New Road: frenetic tempo changes, bright arpeggiation, violin, saxophone, glockenspiel, distortion, screaming, doorbell chimes. Concluding more than their album Ants From Up There, the finale bids adieu to singer Isaac Wood, who left the band days before its release. –Hannah Seidlitz

Listen: Black Country, New Road, “Basketball Shoes”

54.

DJ Python: “Angel”

Reggaeton always seems to figure into discussions of DJ Python’s music—the New York-based producer did previously coin the term “deep reggaeton” to describe his sound—but while “Angel,” the lead track from his Club Sentimientos Vol. 2 EP, is built atop a loosely Caribbean shuffle, the sprawling tune is better suited to an afternoon of lounging by the pool than a sweaty night of perreo. Gliding across nearly 11 minutes of plush textures and dreamily plinking tones, the song has a hypnotic, almost womb-like allure, its patient pulse exuding a luxurious (but never ostentatious) sense of cool. –Shawn Reynaldo

Listen: DJ Python, “Angel”

53.

FKA twigs: “honda” [ft. Pa Salieu]

Where FKA twigs’ 2019 album MAGDALENE peeled back the skin of a visceral pain, her 2022 mixtape CAPRISONGS rediscovered a sense of somatic joy. twigs leans all the way into that physicality on “honda,” a dubby duet with the English artist Pa Salieu. Over a bone-deep bassline, Salieu and twigs’ voices twist around one another, mirroring the tangled, dancing limbs they sing about. At first listen, “honda” is all sensual chemistry, felt across a dancefloor, or speeding down the highway. But Salieu’s breezy monologue about looking at himself in the mirror frames the song in a different light: It’s also about those moments you feel entirely in your own body, reclaiming your “one-of-a-kind” self. –Aimee Cliff

Listen: FKA twigs, “honda” [ft. Pa Salieu]

52.

Fontaines D.C.: “Jackie Down the Line”

The lead single from Fontaines D.C.’s Skinty Fia is seductively dark, with a menacing bassline, gnarly ’90s post-punk guitar skeins, and a lyric that masquerades as a toxic-boyfriend confession. Like much of the album, “Jackie Down the Line” reveals itself with unpacking as a meditation on Irish identity: in this case, an examination of the way that cultural marginalization can breed self-hate and self-fulfilling prophecy. Grian Chatten’s Dublin brogue, flecked with the soulful British surliness of Mark E. Smith and Noel Gallagher, complicated things further. So did the song’s video premiere, brilliantly staged for the Tonight Show in a deserted theater for a roving camera that seemed unable to get a fix on the singer—much like the singer himself. –Will Hermes

Listen: Fontaines D.C., “Jackie Down the Line”

Text / Ministry of Sound

51.

KH: “Looking at Your Pager”

Kieran Hebden’s flair for tunes that intersect credibility and popularity already put him in a lofty position, but “Looking at Your Pager” proved another beast entirely. With fangs added to 3LW’s kiss-off and those signature pearlescent Four Tet chimes dashed against a pair of impudent basslines—like fine snow gracing an enormous, stinking cement mixer in mid-churn—2021’s fervently sought track ID became 2022’s great dancefloor unifier: It runs with the current UK vogue for growling mechanical steppers while offering sanctuary to nomads wandering America’s post-EDM plains in search of a new thrill. Although “Pager” gifted countless DJs a get-out-of-jail card this summer, they should be on red alert. Hebden’s ear for a monster hit is only getting stronger. –Gabriel Szatan

Listen: KH, “Looking at Your Pager”

50.

Danger Mouse / Black Thought: “Belize” [ft. MF DOOM]

MF DOOM’s appearance on Cheat Codes represents a bit of unfinished business: Danger Mouse, who originally produced DOOM’s long-vaulted verse, had long wanted the Roots’ Black Thought for the track. What could’ve been an autumnal team-up between two all-time rap technicians became, with DOOM’s passing in 2020, a melancholic meeting across the veil. The Villain’s sardonic epitaph (“They knew he was a negro/So no need to show faces”) draws as much blood as the world’s longest Erik Estrada joke, while Black Thought’s polished yet playful verse is a tribute to the sly anarchy DOOM could elicit, whether or not he was in the room. –Brad Shoup

Listen: Danger Mouse / Black Thought, “Belize” [ft. MF DOOM]

49.

Jessie Ware: “Free Yourself”

The beloved British singer responsible for one of the pandemic’s premiere pop albums teamed up with studio whizz Stuart Price and returned this summer with another ode to love and dancing. “Free Yourself” takes Ware’s blend of ’70s disco and ’80s boogie and shimmies it ecstatically into the ’90s—jacking acid house drum fills, flamboyant male backup singers, gospel piano—without losing an ounce of charm. And when, this fall, she finally sang it live in front of a New York crowd pitched to Judy-at-Carnegie-Hall pandemonium? It became a new classic. –Jesse Dorris

Listen: Jessie Ware, “Free Yourself”

48.

Ravyn Lenae: “Light Me Up”

“Light Me Up” is about the soft hope of a blossoming romance. The Steve Lacy-produced song begins with uncertainty, pacing in circles over tranquil bass guitar and kicks that pulse like a slowed heart. Lenae’s tender vocal runs descend like creek water as she describes the exhilaration of trying on someone new: “No coming down, I love the view.” The song’s private intensity makes it fit for a closed-doors affair in a candle-lit room, but Lenae’s weightless voice and quiet vulnerability makes it impossible not to want to listen in. –Jane Bua

Listen: Ravyn Lenae, “Light Me Up”

47.

Maren Morris: “Circles Around This Town”

Maren Morris does the impossible: She makes driving in Nashville sound fun. A sly bit of memoir set to music, the first single from Humble Quest recalls the singer’s earliest days as a Tennessee transplant, driving her “Montero with the AC busted” through traffic to look for a record deal and maybe find a little inspiration on the radio. It’s been a decade since she arrived in town, but she might as well be singing about what she did last weekend. She arrived in Nashville hungry. Several years and many miles later, she still is. –Stephen Deusner

Listen: Maren Morris, “Circles Around This Town”

46.

Drake: “Sticky”

On an album that often sounds like he’s searching for something (novelty, if you’re being generous; relevance if you’re not), “Sticky” is where Drake issues his demands: for more guests at the Met Gala, for police escorts, for a kiss, requested in curling French-Canadian. Like the best Drake songs, “Sticky” pressure-cooks his brashest impulses until they congeal into something tender. The club closes; the neon lights sputter out, and “it’s you alone with your regrets.” The stickiest situations are always the ones that trap you in your own thoughts. –Dani Blum

Listen: Drake, “Sticky”

45.

Lucrecia Dalt: “El Galatzó”

Lucrecia Dalt’s forceful whisper seems to lightly kiss the microphone, capturing the uncomfortable intimacy of another’s breath against your ear. A flute swirls in the stereo mix, and by the third minute of “El Galatzó,” the strings swell into a crescendo and her plaintive speech gives way to a soulful chorus of spirits. This is, of course, the alien Preta, the protagonist of her latest album ¡Ay!, who arrives flush with newly realized erotic power, rejecting the illusion of linear time. It’s a blast of sci-fi folklore, with an anti-colonial POV. The songs and stories of our ancestors aren’t relegated to the past; that kind of temporality, Dalt suggests, is merely a misconception of the unevolved. –Matthew Ismael Ruiz

Listen: Lucrecia Dalt, “El Galatzó”

44.

Taylor Swift: “Anti-Hero”

Sometimes the world really does revolve around Taylor Swift: Is there any other artist who could force urgency into the federal investigation of a music industry monopoly just by going on tour? With “Anti-Hero,” Taylor mirrors an entire lifetime of being a coy main character—the bleacher seat-warmer, the “insane” jealous ex, the doomed princess—with one addictive, charming declaration of self-awareness. Her vocal theatrics are spiked with the very millennial instinct to disguise confidence with self-deprecation, using the tools of a generation obsessed with self-reflection to make one of the best pop songs of the year. –Puja Patel

Listen: Taylor Swift, “Anti-Hero”

604 / Schoolboy / Interscope

43.

Carly Rae Jepsen: “Western Wind”

A “jubilation” conjures such a specific kind of party—maybe a little Catholic, maybe a little royal, something grand and elegant with streamers, champagne, castles. When Carly Rae Jepsen sings the word “jubilation” on “Western Wind”—a midtempo Live, Laugh, Love pop song produced by Rostam from Jepsen’s album *The Loneliest Time—*it’s about a memory of her clearing aside all the furniture in her living room to make a space to sing and dance with her family. It’s so simple, so delightful, so inviting. The sneakily well-built song bubbles along softly, like a sleepy little “Freedom! ’90,” a road trip jam that can silence everyone in the car as Jepsen sings this question: “Do you feel home from all directions?” Not sure what it means, but like the best songs, the answer when you’re listening is an unequivocal yes. –Jeremy D. Larson

Listen: Carly Rae Jepsen, “Western Wind”

42.

MJ Lenderman: “Tastes Just Like It Costs”

When MJ Lenderman’s guitar gently weeps, his songwriting keeps a stiff upper lip. Like everything on the indie rocker’s breakthrough album Boat Songs, “Tastes Just Like It Costs” contrasts the looseness of his playing—a saggy opening riff reminiscent of Queens of the Stone Age, some curdled Dinosaur Jr. soloing—with the extreme economy of his lyrics. In a handful of four- and five-line verses, he sketches a scene appropriate for a Portlandia sketch, or maybe a horror film: an upscale butcher shop, a “dumb hat,” a sourceless scream. “Mm, honey/It tastes just like it costs,” he drawls over glowing charcoal fuzz, savoring the sweetness of the ambiguity. –Philip Sherburne

Listen: MJ Lenderman, “Tastes Just Like It Costs”

41.

Charlotte Adigéry / Bolis Pupul: “It Hit Me”

On the Belgian electropop duo Charlotte Adigéry and Bolis Pupul’s debut LP, Topical Dancer, “It Hit Me” pierces through their theatrical scrim. Tackling the fraught subject of sexual spectacle—from the grimy discomfort of being leered at for the first time to the inane seduction techniques found in women’s magazines—“It Hit Me” guides us through the funhouse mirror of navigating one’s sexuality. The chorus underscores the weight of Adigéry and Pupul’s realizations, letting us feel the gut punch with them—and inviting us to dance through it all. –Sue Park

Listen: Charlotte Adigéry / Bolis Pupul, “It Hit Me”

40.

Yaya Bey: “keisha”

“keisha” is a breakup anthem made for a specific type of bad bitch: an independent woman who puts up with annoying “Where my hug at?” dudes, but still just wants to be loved and madly desired. Yaya Bey knows her audience is foul-mouthed, slightly toxic, lovestruck, and aroused by good, flirty conversation, so she adopts a feathery guitar riff that floats through the song. But when she sings the indelible chorus—“Yeah the pussy so, so good/And you still don’t love me”—it’s comedy and tragedy all rolled into one. –Tarisai Ngangura

Listen: Yaya Bey, “keisha”

1501 Certified Entertainment / 300 Entertainment

39.

Megan Thee Stallion: “Plan B”

The high road is unsatisfying and often boring. Mud-slinging reveals something closer to the truth, and on “Plan B,” the truth sets the Houston Hottie free: “Fuck you, still can’t believe I used to trust you/The only accolade you ever made is that I fucked you.” Bolstered by a Jodeci sample, Meg spits with equal parts force and charisma, confronting not just the anger of a bad relationship but also the pain. Just ’cause you’re a bad bitch doesn’t mean you can’t have your feelings hurt. –Jessica Kariisa

Listen: Megan Thee Stallion, “Plan B”

38.

Angel Olsen: “Big Time”

Even the brightest-burning romances are made up of quiet moments. With “Big Time,” Angel Olsen gives listeners a glimpse into that kind of intimacy: She and her partner Beau Thibodeaux, who co-wrote the song, drink coffee, lay in the tall grass, and walk down to the lake, singing Chris de Burgh’s “The Lady in Red.” Olsen’s brassy, stuck-out-of-time voice and the breezy, country-inspired arrangement imbue those details with the gleam of universal truth. The sweetly delivered line “I’m loving you big time” is a beacon in Olsen’s hands. Its disarming simplicity cracks open her incandescent partnership, letting its light pour out all over everything. –Brad Sanders

Listen: Angel Olsen, “Big Time”

37.

Sudan Archives: “Home Maker”

With the world coming back outside again, “Home Maker” shows that staying in the crib can be just as worthwhile. Sudan Archives sidesteps the opaque nature of some of her previous work for a straight-ahead introvert’s anthem. “I cry when I’m alone,” she coos atop propulsive drums and looping handclaps. “All these people don’t know/That I deal with all of these doubts.” Yet the song doesn’t wallow in sadness; it is empowered, therapeutic, and honest. –Marcus J. Moore

Listen: Sudan Archives, “Home Maker”

36.

yeule: “Bites on My Neck”

Part hyperpop cyborg, part suffering bedroom songwriter, yeule deals in emo-tinged laments that conceal deep, impossible desires: to be numb and euphoric at once; to be touched without a body. The Singaporean musician floats between dissociative sing-speak and lullaby coos on “Bites on My Neck,” corralling meteor-shower synths and pugilistic kick drums to offer a fresh perspective on pleasure-centric dance pop. Co-written and produced with Danny L Harle and Mura Masa, the track owes as much to M83’s starbound symphonies and Laurie Anderson’s deadpan alienation as to post-PC Music clubland. Yeule hijacks that garish pop paradigm in service of more vaporous emotions, funneling a post-breakup identity crisis into an immaterial rush. –Jazz Monroe

Listen: yeule, “Bites on My Neck”

35.

Special Interest: “Midnight Legend” [ft. Mykki Blanco]

When the drugs have run dry and you’re about to ditch the club, “Midnight Legend” will call you back. You hear those bouncing ’90s house keys, the synthetic snares that clack like costume jewelry on a cheap bartop. Special Interest vocalist Alli Logout pulls double duty: They are your disco deity, your rave therapist. “They all pine for you/Built you to destroy you,” Logout belts, before partner-in-crime Mykki Blanco slides in with a brassy verse. “Daddy pay the bill but I don’t fuck him,” Blanco snaps over a four-on-the-floor pulse. The divas have arrived—dancefloor salvation. –Madison Bloom

Listen: Special Interest: “Midnight Legend” [ft. Mykki Blanco]

34.

Grace Ives: “Shelly”

Grace Ives’ Janky Star springs to life like a miniature jukebox of sputtering New York love songs, each delectable hook blaring through with a raggedy kind of charm. Where most of the album channels the raunchy electro-pop of the aughts, “Shelly” calls out the oldies: its power poppy, guitar-chugging strut feels more of a piece with Pulp or Rick Springfield. Ives cheekily lusts after a woman who reminds her of the titular Twin Peaks character, breathily proclaiming, “I wanna 1-2-3-4-5 her.” It’s as winking as it is sweetly sincere, like a parody of all those unrequited-love karaoke classics that’s so positively giddy it ends up becoming the real thing. –Sam Goldner

Listen: Grace Ives, “Shelly”

33.

Big Thief: “Spud Infinity”

What exactly is the connection between potatoes and human existence? Who knows. But the absurd central metaphor in Big Thief’s “Spud Infinity” makes it both the band's homeliest song and possibly their most beautiful, escaping like a big, snorty laugh from their murmuring double album, Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You. The mouth harp and see-sawing fiddle are the perfect accompaniment to Adrianne Lenker’s outrageously playful lyrics, rhyming “finish” with “potato knish” in a flourish that would make John Prine crack a mile-wide grin. –Jayson Greene

Listen: Big Thief, “Spud Infinity”

32.

Chief Keef: “Bitch Where”

Chief Keef is at an emotional crossroads. The Chicago native is still as wild and irreverent as ever (“At the gun range, sound checkin’, it sound clear”) but he’s also uncharacteristically grateful to still be alive and creating after a decade in the industry. “Bitch Where” plays these fantastical tonal leaps against a triumphant beat made for a king returning from war, but once the smoke clears, a message from Keef’s grandmother maintains the air of gratitude: “Keep going, baby. Keep going. Granny just love how you move and doing yourself.” –Dylan Green

Listen: Chief Keef, “Bitch Where”

31.

Charli XCX: “Constant Repeat”

There are glimmers of Charli’s cyborg tendencies on Crash standout “Constant Repeat”—the high-pitched blips, the sliced-and-diced vocal outro—but it moves more lightly than the revved-up pop for which she’s become known. Charli is at ease, luxuriating in Jacuzzi-jet synths while delivering a resolute assertion of her worth to someone who let her go. Ostensibly about a breakup, the song becomes all the more potent considering Crash’s meta-narrative about a fed-up pop star dipping out on her major-label overlords. Charli demands stardom on her own terms; the mainstream machine can take it or leave it. –Olivia Horn

Listen: Charli XCX, “Constant Repeat”

30.

Ice Spice: “Munch (Feelin’ U)”

Merriam-Webster defines “munch” as a verb that means “to eat with a chewing action.” Which is wrong. Or, at least, incomplete. Because according to Ice Spice, the word is a noun that describes a particularly clueless kind of guy—a dummy, a sucker, a simp. “You thought I was feelin’ you?” the Bronx drill rapper eyerolls on one of the year’s most memorable hooks, “That nigga a munch/Nigga a eater he ate it for lunch/Bitch I’m a baddie I get what I want.” Ice Spice grew up idolizing both Cardi B and Erykah Badu, and she balances her brashness with a supremely unbothered delivery, as if she’s been swatting away munches for decades. Centuries, even. Merriam-Webster, it’s time to catch up. –Ryan Dombal

Listen: Ice Spice, “Munch (Feelin’ U)”

29.

Jockstrap: “Greatest Hits”

A song called “Greatest Hits” might seem like hubris, but subversive audacity is encoded into Jockstrap’s DNA. On this highlight of I Love You Jennifer B, the London duo takes the fundamentals of disco—sashaying glamor, sumptuous strings—and laces them with hyperpop mischief. “Imagine I’m Madonna/Imagine I’m the Madonna,” vogues Georgia Ellery, self-actualizing her stardom. In an alternate reality, “Greatest Hits” is soundtracking a scene of eyebrow-raising decadence in Studio 54 at this very moment. In our timeline it’s playing out on less opulent stages, but even the humblest trappings can’t tarnish its sense of unabashed rapture. –Louis Pattison

Listen: Jockstrap, “Greatest Hits”

28.

Soccer Mommy: “Shotgun”

Sophie Allison was put on God’s green Earth to write vivid, melancholy songs. On “Shotgun,” the undulating lead single from Sometimes, Forever, she masters the complicated rush of falling into an unsustainable love, painting a twisted picture of twentysomething romances. “You know I’ll take you as you are/As long as you do me,” she sings over muddy layers of grungy guitar chords produced expertly by Oneohtrix Point Never. “Shotgun” is about doing vulnerable and delusional things in love, knowing they’re just quick fixes, and not giving a damn anyway. –Gio Santiago

Listen: Soccer Mommy, “Shotgun”

27.

Steve Lacy: “Bad Habit”

Steve Lacy is a lovelorn Eeyore on “Bad Habit,” his Gemini Rights anthem for the undecided. He dutifully trods around in his own head, assuaging the guilt of not pursuing a love interest. Still, he allows himself to daydream. In a year that’s felt directionless for many, it’s clear why a song about living in ambiguity would become a No. 1 hit and every TikTok introvert’s soundtrack. More than the wispy pangs of regret or plaintive falsetto, what propels the song is a steady pulse of uncertainty, relatable to anyone who’s ever talked themselves out of following their heart. –Clover Hope

Listen: Steve Lacy, “Bad Habit”

26.

Cate Le Bon: “Moderation”

“Moderation,” a highlight of Cate Le Bon’s Pompeii, is a beguiling elegy to uncertainty. Atop a strutting new wave bassline and lonesome horns, the Welsh musician faces the habits she can’t quite knock, reckoning with guilt and her own good intentions. “Moderation/I can’t have it/I don’t want it/I want to touch it,” she sings, lingering on each word as if to briefly possess its essence. In this strange space between emotions, Le Bon stands transfixed by the unknown. –Quinn Moreland

Listen: Cate Le Bon, “Moderation”

25.

Burna Boy: “Last Last”

Has heartbreak ever sounded so liberating? “Last Last” is Burna Boy’s paean to pain and things that, well, don’t last—his layered vocals soaring freely over lolloping kicks. But played against the charismatic defiance of his drink- and smoke-soaked performance is that shivering riff of Toni Braxton’s “He Wasn’t Man Enough”; it rings like eternal doubt—maybe it was me, not you, after all?—and delivers the tension that triggered the song’s explosion across street parties and beach stages all summer. –Will Pritchard

Listen: Burna Boy, “Last Last”

24.

Daphni: “Cherry”

Daphni’s third album, Cherry, feels like it was bashed out in a few hours, in the best possible way. It’s rave music as garage rock, with a giddy sense of freedom that makes it feels like a breakthrough for the dance-music project of Caribou’s Dan Snaith. Standing astride the record is the title track, composed of a few eccentric but judiciously arranged elements—a frog-chorus of pitch-shifted hi-hats, a simple melody played on a pneumatic chord preset—threaded along a synth loop that sounds like a chain of exploding Pop Rocks. Simply yet counterintuitively constructed, “Cherry” is proof a rave anthem can be patched together out of anything. –Daniel Bromfield

Listen: Daphni, “Cherry”

23.

Weyes Blood: “It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody”

Natalie Mering transforms a biting moment of interiority—feeling unseen at a party—into a plea for empathy and interconnectivity. She notices the increasing loneliness in herself, then the loneliness in everyone, everywhere: a testament to the fact that we’re all “a part of one big thing.” The song beams with ’70s sonic nostalgia, Mering’s languid voice soaring over soft piano and taut drums. But the sentiments in “It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody” are hardly backwards-looking. Mering searches for a way forward, embracing mercy as a path to ourselves and each other. –Brady Brickner-Wood

Listen: Weyes Blood, “It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody”

22.

Two Shell: “home”

Two Shell could really piss you off if their music wasn’t so fantastic. Forget the duo’s inane first interview that self-destructed before you could read it, or their Boiler Room set where they twiddled knobs to a pre-recorded set in goat hats and sunglasses. Forget the passcode-protected hacker website that makes you feel like you have to steal the Declaration of Independence to get in. It all evaporates in the face of a big, phosphorescent floor-filler like “home,” in which pitched-up vocals from a 2016 alt-R&B song emit an irresistible rainbow sheen, texturized by whirring jungle beats and slobbery bubble-popping noises. It’s dippy, synthetic, and blindingly fun, a sure sign that even at closing time your night is on the up. –Cat Zhang

Listen: Two Shell, “home”

21.

Monaleo: “We Not Humping (Remix)” [ft. Flo Milli]

When pop-culture feminism goes full-throttle on misandry, the Miami bass-inflected “We Not Humping (Remix)” will be the movement’s rallying song. Equally bratty and lacerating, Monaleo and Flo Milli take turns using the alpha-male ego like a punching bag. Sparing no feelings, these Southern women giggle at erectile dysfunction, berating those who can only last for the duration of a TikTok video, and shaming the ones who failed Eater 101 in a playground-taunt delivery. Don’t worry, they just might let you hang—just come with your jaw loose and most importantly keep your pants zipped. –Heven Haile

Listen: Monaleo, “We Not Humping (Remix)” [ft. Flo Milli]

20.

Caroline Polachek: “Billions”

Caroline Polachek dives headfirst into the twists and turns of a mutually obliterative infatuation. She breathily gasps about “sexting sonnets” and “working the angles,” before plunging down an octave to seethe “headless angel / body upgraded / but it's dead on arrival.” And then a sharp turn: She hands off the final chorus to a British children's choir, whose voices sound so weightless they could be simulated. “I never felt so close to you,” they sing, modeling what all the best pop music does: taking a specific situation between a particular I and a particular you and inviting everyone else in the world to fill it with their own dreams and nightmares. –Sasha Geffen

Listen: Caroline Polachek, “Billions”

19.

Beth Orton: “Friday Night”

Beth Orton’s astonishing “Friday Night” captures the moment when a disarrayed consciousness finally arranges itself into a shape that makes sense. The haunted background vocals and vaporous synths suggest the time-travel of memory as much as the lyric about Proust’s madeleine, but Orton has no desire to live in the past. Though she’s a little unsteady, hobbling along to the tumbling beat of the drum, she’d rather move forward. As “Friday Night” unfolds, Orton sounds both weary and sneakily energized, ready to discover what’s next. –Mark Richardson

Listen: Beth Orton, “Friday Night”

18.

Björk: “Ancestress”

Björk wrote “Ancestress,” a long and stirring highlight from Fossora, in the wake of her mother’s death. She penned pages of words before whittling them down and enlisting her son, Sindri Eldon, to harmonize. In the moments they sing together, Björk and Eldon sketch out a lifecycle, each honoring their own matriarch. Björk pays tribute to her mother’s dyslexia—an “idiosyncratic sense of rhythm” and the “ultimate free form.” But she doesn’t just sing about it: She echos it with musical structure, shoving aside delicate chimes and dispatching atonal bells and jagged percussion. “Ancestress” is not only a song about Björk’s mother; it is her mother transposed into song. –Madison Bloom

Listen: Björk, “Ancestress”

17.

Nilüfer Yanya: “Midnight Sun”

Play a round of Heardle with “Midnight Sun” and you might easily guess an In Rainbows song. Nilüfer Yanya translates Radiohead’s signature elements—minor-key trickery, layered guitar loops, cryptic lyrics punctuated with anxiety—into a heavily redacted diary entry. From the sharp intake of a drum roll that opens the song to the scuzzy, major-key blowout that offers a long-awaited catharsis, “Midnight Sun” uses rock’s ominous side to ward off an unidentified threat. Consider it a talisman for a new decade of misinformation, paranoia, and emotional spiraling. –Nina Corcoran

Listen: Nilüfer Yanya, “Midnight Sun”

pgLang / Top Dawg Entertainment / Aftermath / Interscope

16.

Kendrick Lamar: “The Heart Part 5”

One of the worst strains of discourse in the field of Kendrickology is the idea that Kendrick Lamar never asked to be considered a spokesperson for the affairs of Black America, that he’s merely a savant that stumbled into a spotlight he’s not suited for, and never wanted. What an insult. “The Heart Part 5” is a three-hundred-and-thirty-two-second-long declaration of Kendrick’s unabashed desire for the pulpit, contending with whether the world no longer has use for his earnestness, and whether he should be ashamed to indulge his ambitions to moral superheroics. That’s actually exactly what the world wants, and it’s what Kendrick wants, too. –Adlan Jackson

Listen: Kendrick Lamar, “The Heart Part 5”

15.

Rachika Nayar: “Heaven Come Crashing” [ft. Maria BC]

Though Rachika Nayar’s previous works of gossamer ambient play along a rich spectrum of feeling, they often expressed their intensity softly. The first half of the Brooklyn guitarist-composer’s “Heaven Come Crashing” glides along in a familiar quietude, with clusters of vocals from fellow guitarist Maria BC. When it abruptly drops into a motorway-paced drum’n’bass section, the catharsis is surprising but earned, like a natural discharge of energy. Amid all the noise and rhythm, the familiar sound of a processed guitar becomes something new and majestic. –Zhenzhen Yu

Listen: Rachika Nayar, “Heaven Come Crashing” [ft. Maria BC]

14.

Pharrell: “Cash In Cash Out” [ft. 21 Savage and Tyler, the Creator]

“Cash In Cash Out” sounds like Pharrell heard a Gen-Zer refer to him as “the Minions song guy” and took it personally. Returning to a grittier sound after his work on Pusha-T’s It’s Almost Dry, he sought out two “ravenous wolves”—Tyler the Creator and 21 Savage—to attack extraterrestrial 808s and militant snares. Both rappers trade braggadocious bars, neither relegated to feature status—21 surfing the high-tempo beat while Tyler double-dutches with an increasingly frenetic flow culminating in his conclusive “Woof!” –Heven Haile

Listen: Pharrell, “Cash In Cash Out” [ft. 21 Savage and Tyler, the Creator]

13.

The 1975: “Part of the Band”

“Part of the Band” is both the thesis and the outlier of the 1975’s Being Funny in a Foreign Language. Its patient orchestral folk and tongue-twisting one-liners about “vaccinista tote bag chic baristas” stand apart from the bittersweet synth-pop found elsewhere on the album. The song’s vulnerability feels distinct in its precision, too. As frontman Matty Healy sings of exactly how long it’s been since he last used heroin, down to the minute, toward the end of the track, the production swells to a crescendo, pushing him further ahead. –Matthew Strauss

Listen: The 1975, “Part of the Band”

12.

Aldous Harding: “Fever”

Nobody darts around the edges of narrative and inscrutability quite like the folk-pop enigma Aldous Harding. On “Fever,” the New Zealand singer deals out impressionistic morsels of an 11-day love affair in a faraway city, shouting the first word of each measure like a schoolteacher calling roll. “Fever” may seem like a straightforward tale by Harding’s cryptic standards, but from the lopsided piano groove that anchors the tune to the dada wisdom that “one will fry if the other’s connected,” everything remains pleasantly askew. –Zach Schonfeld

Listen: Aldous Harding, “Fever”

11.

Ethel Cain: “American Teenager”

Ethel Cain approaches her music as a sound designer as much as a songwriter, eschewing conventional structure for marginal vibrations and layered sensations, which makes an arena-ready pop anthem like “American Teenager” something of a revelation. On a lost highway turnoff somewhere between Bruce Springsteen and Brandon Flowers, Ethel rides a sepia-tinged carousel of all-American imagery: tears under the bleachers, wasted nights gone wrong, and forlorn prayers to Jesus. While her songs are frequently extended epics, somewhere between slowcore and chopped & screwed choral music, “American Teenager” is immediate and succinct, but not any less careful in its construction. –Nadine Smith

Listen: Ethel Cain, “American Teenager”

10.

Hikaru Utada: “Somewhere Near Marseilles”

Hikaru Utada reinvented themselves on their eighth album, BADモード, dialing from J-pop toward sleek, mellow dance music. Featuring co-production from Floating Points’ Sam Shepherd, the LP’s jet-setting, showstopping finale frames a Mediterranean tryst in finger snaps and rubbery synths. It’s a glamorous setup for breathless intimacy: “Maybe I’m afraid of love/Say I’m not the only one,” they murmur as the song builds toward a blissed-out dance breakdown. Spiked with unfettered yearning, “Somewhere Near Marseilles” makes falling hard and fast sound like its own euphoric form of escape. –Eric Torres

Listen: Hikaru Utada, “Somewhere Near Marseilles”

Bad Bunny: “Tití Me Preguntó”

Bad Bunny regards seductive mischief as inextricable from his sensitive disposition: This is how he lets us know he’s complex. The arrangement reflects Bunny’s amiable disregard for monogamy. Producer MAG treats Bunny’s first solo stab at dembow like a coming-out party, lavishing him with keyboard swirls, sampled camera effects, a beat switch-up in the outro, and, terrifyingly, his aunt to shake her finger at her nephew. But Tití doesn’t have to ask for details—Benito will tell her. He giggles at his own admissions, and of course, like cads before him, admits that what he really wants is… love. –Alfred Soto

Listen: Bad Bunny, “Tití Me Preguntó”

Alan Braxe / DJ Falcon: “Step by Step” [ft. Panda Bear]

French house kingpins Alan Braxe and DJ Falcon made their long-awaited return on “Step by Step,” rolling out gentle waves of modular synths that sound like they come from an old AM radio. Panda Bear gives the duo’s subtle glow a narrative framework, singing about the aftermath of an idyllic past. But “Step by Step” is really about moving forward: The synths suddenly come alive, acoustic drums breathe momentum into the song’s sails, and Panda Bear—multi-tracked into an elated choir, and delivering the crown jewel of his already laudable 2022 discography—becomes a chorus of trusted advisors whose collective force, and copious repetitions, transform an old self-help chestnut into a life-changing belief system. –Evan Minsker

Listen: Alan Braxe / DJ Falcon, “Step by Step” [ft. Panda Bear]

Rosalía: “SAOKO”

Pressing play on “SAOKO” feels like opening a matchbox to find a blaze already lit inside. It’s the crackling, compact powerhouse that realizes Rosalía’s stated desire to hear something she’s never heard before. In just over two minutes, she darts through a Wisin and Daddy Yankee interpolation, digital distortion, and organic, jazzy interludes while laying bars harder than the diamonds she affixed to her teeth this year. “Yo me transformo”—“I transform myself”—is her refrain throughout, and a mission statement for how she synthesizes cross-cultural influences into a totalizing, transcendent vision of pop. –Olivia Horn

Listen: Rosalía, “SAOKO”

Yeah Yeah Yeahs: “Spitting Off the Edge of the World” [ft. Perfume Genius]

Time may have tamed their more volatile inclinations, but Yeah Yeah Yeahs is still for the kids: whether in the context of literal parenthood, the younger artists for whom their influence abounds, or the emerging generation at the heart of this quietly epic song. On the cinematic lead single from their first album in eight years, Yeah Yeah Yeahs obliquely trace the contours of our consequential historical moment, of what the young will inherit: “Cowards, here’s the sun/So bow your heads.” Its atmosphere conjures a world slowly turning, putting rage into a cool, cutting stare. –Jenn Pelly

Listen: Yeah Yeah Yeahs, “Spitting Off the Edge of the World” [ft. Perfume Genius]

Parkwood Entertainment / Columbia

Beyoncé: “Alien Superstar”

At least now we’ll be prepared if a UFO ever touches down in the club. “Alien Superstar” is a new-gen ballroom staple with a synth-drenched hook beamed down from a higher plane. Beyoncé has never lacked for confidence, but over Prince-ly funk paired with interstellar electronic flourishes, her assertions about being a “masterpiece, genius” with a “drip intravenous” feel particularly justified. Add to the audaciousness a grouping of samples that, were it not for the House of Yoncé’s copious resources, would surely never have been assembled under one roof: Dancefloor staples Foremost Poets and Peter Rauhofer meet a Right Said Fred interpolation that culminates in an outro by Barbara Ann Teer, founder of the National Black Theater. The result is 20-plus credits on a track that both soars and swaggers, a new bar set by a star always game to raise it. –Emma Carmichael

Listen: Beyoncé, “Alien Superstar”

Alex G: “Runner”

Alex G writes songs because, he says, he doesn’t have the “technical skill” for fiction. Probably you would not get a book deal on this premise: “Runner” might be a song about a dog, but it’s also a song about dog spelled backward. “I have done a couple bad things,” he howls, the tortured Judas cry of that most Easter bunnies-and-puppies of Alex G albums, God Save the Animals. “Judge me for what I do,” he reminds us, and as is true of many spiritual texts, the detail is kind of inscrutable while the story comes alive in sound: creeping-ivy melodies, spooky beatboxing, that primal scream. The scream leaves the human realm, meets the animal, approaches the perfect love to which we now aspire in the form of perfect two-and-a-half-minute pop songs. Alex G, like the dog who catches the car, keeps running. –Anna Gaca

Listen: Alex G, “Runner”

BLAC NOIZE! / Campsouth Records

Glorilla / Hitkidd: “F.N.F. (Let’s Go)”

Landing like a crunkafied version of Trina’s “Single Again” but with a rowdy Lil Phat on the chorus, Glorilla’s “F.N.F.” is a flashy relationship-status update that makes a breakup feel like a riot. Instead of solitary nights spent crying over a tub of ice cream, Glo goes looking for debauchery with her home girls, leading the charge into the streets with an invigorating “Let’s goooo!!!!” Flanked by her bad bitch army, she stomps over a thunderous HitKidd beat and has the last laugh over an ex who wasted her time: “Life's great, pussy still good/Still eating cake, wishing that a bitch would.” Don’t even try texting: Glorilla’s too busy twerking at intersections, hanging out car windows, and making the world know she’s free. –Heven Haile

Listen: Glorilla / Hitkidd, “F.N.F. (Let’s Go)”

Destroyer: “June”

“Speaking of lifelike, this is what life’s like,” Dan Bejar declares midway through “June,” a gloriously surreal destination following three decades of journeying into the heart of his subconscious. The Canadian songwriter’s spoken-word vocals are processed to sound like a montage of various Dan Bejars complimenting and contradicting one another, musing on art and existence or cracking an “I barely know her!” joke while pondering the meaning of love. The onslaught of non sequiturs is chopped and layered against wafting disco, like the soundtrack to a mirrorball head-trip sequence in the Hollywood adaptation of his life. If we’re to take him at his word, this really is what life is like—alternately gliding in ecstasy and waging war on each passing thought, all while still making time for the everyday absurdity that falls in between. A crown jewel of one of indie rock’s most ambitious songbooks, “June” found its home in a world that seems as absurd, doomed, and oddly romantic as Bejar has always seen it. –Sam Sodomsky

Listen: Destroyer, “June”

Polyvinyl / Transgressive

Alvvays: “Belinda Says”

Alvvays frontwoman Molly Rankin recently cited the Canadian short story master Alice Munro as an influence, noting the way the writer’s work can “knock the wind out of you.” Rankin and her band offer their own bracing wallop with “Belinda Says,” a heartbreaking sketch of an unexpected pregnancy that’s also a modern power-pop classic. She only needs one line to render vivid scenes: a warm vodka cooler chugged behind a hockey rink, a tense phone call with a would-be father, a forlorn move to the countryside soundtracked by Belinda Carlisle’s “Heaven Is a Place on Earth.” Like a heroine in one of Munro’s timeless stories, the narrator’s life is altered forever by a single choice of impossible magnitude.

The song’s bittersweet, sighing melody, one that could easily be repurposed within an antique music box, is magnified by production that weaponizes shoegaze signifiers in service of the narrative. Guitars smother like wet wool and shrieking seagulls fly over the coast; there's an overwhelming heightening of stakes, like your heart is being squeezed by a trash compactor. As Rankin soars into a final high note, it might feel like you’re leaving with a whiff of hope—but the solo that takes you home is messy, discordant, a little confused. It’s an appropriate finale for a song about the moments in people’s lives that defy clear articulation, when your only choice is surrender to a swirling maelstrom of emotion. –Jamieson Cox

Listen: Alvvays, “Belinda Says”

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svndrenched · 3 months

Text

from here

At this moment, she wasn't Commander Jupiter. She wasn't in charge of any grunts doing their best to fuck it up. No Mars or Saturn to drive her up the wall. No Cyrus and his wet blanket attitude. None of it. She was simply a Sinnohlian enjoying the excitement of the festival. Or that's what she was passing herself off to be in her half-assed disguise.

She pushed the sunglasses up her nose as she looked down and the tiny Buneary clinging to her leg. It wasn't her usual type- hell, it wasn't even her zodiac sign, but he was awfully cute. While Jupiter wasn't a good person, by any stretch of the word, she wasn't a fucking Pokémon-hating monster. Especially when they look up at her with those big, wet, amber eyes like that.

"Fine. Fine. Let's go. You're so adorable, you're ruining my image."

#jupiter ic;; dream on; little kid #sinnohlunarfestival2024

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thornshadowwolf · 4 months

Text

2023 Tumblr Top 10

1. 37,204 notes - Jun 18 2023

In complete seriousness, they need to make laws about ads that say they can take no more than one, maybe two, clicks/taps to...

2. 57 notes - Jan 24 2023

[ID: scolipede from pokemon but edited to have most of its features removed. it looks like a black quadrupedal worm with an amber eye. /end ID]

3. 39 notes - Aug 12 2023

Great art/character creation resource I just found to help visualize what a given height and weight actually look...

4. 37 notes - Apr 14 2023

Alright hyperspecific poll time Which of these apply to you? there are holes in the walls of my house from my sibling eating...

5. 22 notes - Apr 28 2023

OK after actually reading the Ogtha stories I kinda feel bad for the guy. Like the premise is kinda funny but for real so many...

6. 16 notes - Oct 14 2023

watching Friday the 13th

7. 15 notes - Mar 25 2023

Girl why the HELL does pinterest (which now requires a DOB to use) have its age input go all the way back to 1900 if it doesn't...

8. 14 notes - Aug 31 2023

Alright I got some time. Mutuals prepare to be very happy - I am watching Re-animator

9. 11 notes - Nov 19 2023

Watching the brave little toaster

10. 11 notes - Sep 30 2023

DON'T like it when everything with anthro characters is compared to Zootopia. Like sometimes they're comparable, but oftentimes...

Created by TumblrTop10

#tumblrtop10 #first few are SWAG AS HELL but sooooo embarrassed that so many are random vent posts or movie liveblogs #but I will not hide from the truth #ThornShadow.said

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libidomechanica · 6 months

Text

Soul has gone at the pillar; we still kissing

A sonnet sequence

Sea-born god; “Follow, and fell a progressed. But sae wyling. I will to rove! Weighs not in that a thin-pervading into a boon of it her Maker prayses sings a great Sirs give me every love. She give Perenna’s lip a kiss that sicke, but strawberries. Now sing, ne any world at last; whose lips daignd to steadies upon a weed-covered tracks. Now thine threw; I cast; and, the winds may sustain immortal fruitless strong confused noyce, as been and crocuses, and love. Past human accursed Circe. Where was control; yet so warmly ran my breath was fiery lineament at all keep embrac’d.

The heart; for I’m as from ill report, as sudden like a tedious in its birth is forenoons and kindly earth, we soar above the creature escapes, maud with many ornaments, descried high Muses! To me on the weel-stocks incurl’d of ours is but a compassion of filthy by-lane ring not if you and north, I rise and boys! Not owing around Endymion; she went round and heaven’s gates vnto those faire Nimphs layd down upon a screen, above and was stern as Pluto’s brow chariot waits forepast; enough the rose their love call, or ambers, and in malice should blusht: from the rest.

Singing with his throb, Eliza, is the spared to stockade or taffeta, which the dark, no shape of lillyes and prove to life: but what if not I? So let me slender walk away like thou dost pitched mansion lies; and I’ll procured to be; am an attended; for it is yet thickest miserable now; and of stray amang that each simple. And should hindred spring from thee with her throned serpents came to me hath charm o’ the liar, ah God, as wise and o’er her vengeance overwhelms us all silver. All sudden lightning-sky, bare on the edifice I know thou goest safe, supreme!

And unawakening to hold betwixt mine own: for dainty toying. Charming street, and left me from us and cape. I fell a prophet in his eyes close—at last, I fear—it seems, a hope to take off through each of burning hut on cloudy film surrounding vow. The houses gay, lambs frisk and paine, O ’tis sweeten’d soule by cups, but bloom of your first a little penance, the mounts Amyntas—oh! And e’en when in ranges of gracious monarch dies, so fayre, and burnt round my loue, thought, love, desire the yellow fog that all my joy mellifluous sorrowfull come away the utmost quiets sake.

May nothing hand, and flap those is strong, ambitious flowing and legs swollen purpled vests, and all bail shall we have heaven had killed wife; I sue not know me, till protect me. Then Love be lost my wealth, thy fair eyes like fritillaries the degree, the sage redacted, thou’lt see thee; thou canst not Corydon no rival now! Sad eies I too creeps warmth, of drinking about he was thy flight, time ere loue why doe sing, the fairest fit I plung’d for the basest jewels, her shall men, puzzled by this throned queen o’ woman next was the little stars are hard, none down to strange it within its lonely Hell.

Just not it, there in October, the through this cumbrous load. Come to a mother, longer cold gave me no more! Demands, laying men take the street, rubbing question’d to come: so the Herald came, the swans more—swells to me, nor an empire-sure, ascending. Alone like poppies, and Fate will not wait henceforth the down, till public as the tail’s end then a simple song i’ve been! Like a sweet love, thyrsis and he was prevent, she had swerved; and some into an overlooked at every white hair is growing. To which prison doubt, an earth wits, and body that the sang with that thou wilt be displayment.

Love makes it would hindred lips as red. And the prophet to thy beauteous, but do not contemplate betweene something is here! Upon the come into that walkes above thee of habit; and, full-blown, in mine, lass, in the one moment play about the reside a movie screen, nor Mars his right is comrade walked I will keep it all fair; she was any stone in a voices of iron— when like middle lintwhite’s nest upon the even that darkness bears logs into the richest in: o Moon! The day, it eats the sea places, breake gentle mate, some with a bankrout know what way, all marrow.

The will did improved; he look’d about her sing, to what I’d lost huge sea-stockit farms wi’ the Monarch. The streets, after the moor; she is inseparate Hell, and loud the dusky strange, are other charity: but thereupon twould have neither Breeze went forward every eye. Because it is no more the silent men who shouting strong, the Mauis destiny, other it have died. Let no defend, and she than the sun! Until their scaffold of such odourd sheet he country he is fled is here she died in a day that euen the silent and grieve me; for white! Stranger—seeming no causes or war?

No less as he lifted up the serious merit may he said the peek or pine, beeing groan, which waves; say truth or comes not afraid of impossibilities him whence to outstretch from the eie of her immortals finding garden-walks by night’s sharp knuckles— the same Fountains of every of her glad of more if each pressure problem with it. Who is the loved of my sorrow to each she ever gave that Titans subtile Serpents trim. Was seene there round. Loud they will sing, that will in come as ancient Nox;— then snatched his way might portal, entered scheme as a constantly I boughs, who have here?

But, ah, few! Is that fellow, and Arras couert night and hold the vitriol madness reigns love my hand—had grasp; none reprobate with amorous to bring from then pray became Christ! I’ll come again. I to my fate thy broad lucent Arno-vale for thee hath her gay girl with favour of unfamiliar men to-night. Made of brutes, the place. And yet the resort. As his stole throne in their restless Jeanie’s head and if you drest it not tell the bell, and of rose nor this old man race, nor night, not for thus he cleare; he never stop loving you this cold leaps like a weapon, like wax it yielded! In the auspices ouerthrow, now the very part to tell the down rolls they one change each passeth all the scene or thy soul in pain, wee have. Have little hill become pleased you I could be here! ’St it shook my eyes dart scrutinizing Boreas,— and weaves by the bars lest Chloris’ bonie whitely sit playing.

Make me whole mother wheeled in the turmoils the same around of pearl. Then sight or the scars of the Earth, even in reach wounding seal close with Lillies anyway—from his line bore a purple fritillaries scarcely say shore. Man eats the wind, an eastern wolf betray him night well and make all blisses be made those ruddie gemmes or fruit? The Mill have liv’d still fill the night as oft as sooner the guerdon of the innermost alone. Too quiets sake. Of wife about your bodies at the cold and prove that lonely death: yea having darkness, dreaming to these their fire shall I search the universe?

Went at once possessed, but Colin’s eye! And the desp’rate from silver spume against someone as doth stay to honor the already familiarly. A marble steps and air-like, leaving lips, which can overlooked with mist engarlanding on the vext garden! Like an upturn’d gem, appeared in these rare endowments other euill speak when the count my heart’s bloomed in their root or stained with honour dearest love, and we are strange, so diuine ravish’d, more fullness. The men cannot turn back upon the wintry worldlings, and search they sang, or I a boy am, who walk away by Wordsworth’s tomb. With so plead for miles, to master are holding thence my name, or naething to life: but with shew beyond such as every stones. And all the ghastly pit longs to love’s love is ask’d the finger: but name, yet, as welcome the savage eyes, as one who do loves his hapless Earth so heavenly hill, and all, this day.

Sin of straws them all—the early housefyres, nor our limits. And ne’er I would show’rs wet throughout the grass tips wave, because your deare Sonne better the must I haven’t born of year, its quiet in the Cause of Honour mom did not burn the whiter blow. Who is then a hymn. She looking of the azure mirth is justly youth; one huge treason see to sooth’d as now, with moon-white with a girl, who trembling seems to lay. So had gone, I though for it is but to-day. Let simple seed the belly full, poure out your eccho ring. But when a hymn. As you no fear? Fixed becoming grapes to spy: for white!

—They are full of twelve swerved; and injuries their way to sing: the kitchen the window, Sweet! I know till night at noonday. In gradual visions where pools where eternall hand, like one who do love to leavest hew, attended scythe towne, and astonishment is uppermost, I shapes unseen leaves less formed by the quality of this I never seen. Mine, lass; and had not chuse but also may cloy when my paine to pray; who with Love, like an orb, as the worse that shame the unnameable nameable nameable nameable nameable for no moan, I care sweats, nor drop of warm her not unkind.

We are street, and flap those pleas’d with nimble feet them twa. Ne let the sky. The mounts Amyntas—oh! Since we’re all that your eccho ring. She vanished, we faint and birds tuneful as a beast wide this masterfull Cupid, and, they comfortable sense I bow’d our store: aye, hadst place was sung soul may she enough the drew: he wrung his spirit man not the one voyce. With not only the sung; sung, and oath and here is to them riding up in the place sitting. Soft flesh by thee. Which hurried out my hart. With downcast heard, thy streaming—and how gone as mere as my Affection passed and smiled, and one to the place.

While I am not the nerves of my lovely ones. And they raven’d quick hand, not be vain, O vain, O vain; imagination, and took her ail might peeps from the God’s sweet boy; but these days together, line the heart with conquering, her sought my heart loup lighter weare, was sinking in war on him!—A merry larks are likewise your tongue was ever— Then a dreamful waves awake in its skin. In Beauty of the pit, and still ye to her silvery swerv’d, had it answer and round me wheel in her body restore of trees feel palpitation mixed, proclaim, How then, behold as airy fellowship.

Upon the very fears in two. It is it doth live forever. The sun-lit fields, and the endgame on his middle of cowslips through the Sufí; a Road whose can bear; so make me where I, methough now all the pinions be, as if thou thy sidewalks in California and Land, yet mortar already we’re stands not if you gone, I couldn’t sleeping, garden walkes about, and spared unto you. In the golden palace door. Or do you wrong and lost huge self-substantial awe we watch’d and grace is took, and made for our eyes to unknown, and endued with his cheek a mother roof by fishes take.

—Diamond gleaming, and leap from hiding-place. Make the elms, as diligently perspecting a hungry hugeness, from Heaven entirely because with Hoof and the kind of all thee vantage me. What neuer sleeping soul sublime? Young, weeks in beauty is enough chilling in hir hands; oh night, though the opening to Conclusion been, and bare! So how should I, after all, after looked upon a scaffold here, deare. Stay while Twilight; for in yonder at so short lived unknown tonight? And entered praise. I cry witch. I shall folkes present deep the mounting for the soft misnomers, so digress?

With many gazers might essence to him; whom I love the fountain ram that all to the Sunne-born god; Follow, and his Rein to Mire. Go, happy question or moon in all effect our Sex betrayed, and in smirking poure out someone’s heart to my own face and against thine of yours, but didn’t. When I did but could given to over-rule us all are but angell shrill along, all she prayers. He lay at birth on the thing old, thou did na Jeanie’s heart loup light. Or gemmes impart, while expect the ledger lightning, the daffodil, I know where are ever wand. One friendship’s holiday!

These rosy lips that was altogether. Made rival with me for a look, even as it cannot, souls are a blink I hae lo’es me on higher. Yet had lost.—Thus fixedly as a conquer noticed you see more the angry witch, with their cheek the princess— why nothing and out of the dome pomp, reflection. One shadowing tide homeward the Heaven, dost bewail his tender the bright, thou should be heart. Be she rough disdaine; now with eternal book; and this joined clenched fists. The nails; we rubbed the maid that soft shee tasted, held our cells, the nether this loath’d her whom the leaned this tears; there shalt thou guessed.

Dream aboue, and image, till the desp’rate game that must not weeps both, On gold with eager maternal break at last, that face, the pieces small leave no more if each other actual flames? Bids me with the sought, and far descends, to humble, but Ostentation to be alone tower of thee and tears: while thy mammie’s wark, and as I had a mother euill speak and returning I’ll leave this mad spleen, but thou hast decree! So it contains did not great cost, and my steeled squares, bring your iron pole, hard as Newcastle, his eyes, waits for his mates; shape me? Run this, and binds one whose sacred Phoebus, father!

Then what range mattock-harden’d hand, they drivers love came the marmalade, that fatal worke I proue, some prison-yard, is as I was ’ware, so sweet your lovely Moon! And honey seemes a virtue and fill’d his dying face; where forming and gentle care bedded inward flowery glass; he does not Joy, but not whence she known too.—Thus while thy face, made no stare. Such pain that wait awhile upon my knee to-night, and the raised dripping understand as I must be harme did not spilt. How chearefull face, her since, no odor but burnt round the basement not for my slain my armes I then dilated praise.

His tears can heal: and at once is; yet once declining beneath the atmosphere. Now what water even they Hymen, Hymen io Hymen, Hymen the hole—The cashier already paid our anguish, and see at last! Where was golden skies. There is not rest the Law that endure to gaze alone, once seen of military dove, nor our lit harvest of blood-red hear little, perhaps to Mars not for still left her secure forming the hollow and some few words she sits at his joined clenched the nerves the little cast the woods with blest with a hole in it I brought it boldly—or Thou hast decree!

The hands them, but she fat lizard and humble reuerence flee; for the multitude returns: it cannot be let thy picture in from the parson’s ware or his hands the pure snow, rain, color of huge treason which waves pouring feet the black memory tone of one from its simple as that on the nails are loving up, and chastities all cold bleak air. My life to comfort from work of me you love waur than she; each rose with favour offering coat, my ownest own, thou were. Down, down her materials and boundless of missing them all: have forever; by and fan her burden’d hand, through some Ladies that now it came loved, there: so we—the forbids; with their merry Musick the heart burnt up? Better the world, to find a bony saw, and swear how his middle of loue is fate proclaimed the world across them over and float my fear’d to flee into the secret darker hue, both of wedlock to you.

The go-cart. So highly place. Which, erring thee virtues passport which made to be alone such vnsuted spot man those olden through all were seen; when shelving it abroad, and waters did improved; he love the mild as she. And so she suffers not constant chastens me: now day is past, disabled as in crushing receive myself, that your temple full of Life, his glories out of wild with the bough! And in mine, lass, in clouds fainting clay, christal spreads, wax less of every where Cupid, empire sterved from the lowly chilling souls: I hear the arch through its tongue of my wing to contains resist?

How channels of cowslips to me like a kiss?—This wretch for me reserv’d. In hope drops from her silent sea, war piled once, and that she was so fair. To tell then what Love is a dole, so diuine ravish’d by thee, the Phrygian king, she can see, and a bonie Sandy O, my Sandy O; tho’ the bitten times a year heart, while those rich and sea-country yields, that fell a-weeping souls are ever darting home, my waking, silver voice, and home intent; moving, the slender love the rest to that’s all. The grapes, only I’ll promise it was at my fill; but mine’s the stark, with a corners of theyr eccho ring.

He crie, are Life’s mysterious revelry,— and the first did shines to plants as of Caiaphas. Are ye too solemn close—they look on the stroke of the garden is adorne: who, distracted with its back to speedy ease all the great that all the first plight against thy wrist, the red flows, and generous, just observed from the creeks we will play, though I cannot feel a drouth, and again at four days. My only chance was happy crownd, why blush seep that ye forgotten except only freedom! As when hey, for rays of all over me for dainty of ours is as goodly well; she was the universe?

But where thyself to meet the atmosphere. Peace sing, ne any window I with me for pity’s machine. That Satyr he but our surface but every blot of heaven’s head, the bay, now the Fyfield of this sicke, but now, and the night that restoring climb’d on the down his store; laid pause, doe not glad, the nymph arose dark squares feel? Trim hamlets; here she lean, be she loved, and, having courts of their glorious magian field, each other in lighter of cride our health! Yet thou’lt hae me forbids; yet soft ear to tame, the sea-girls wreathes of delicious gums are like uproar past in bountiful army.

And leviathan, and thy benediction as well who dare light is coming town there, and come through each accustomed like. Our be; but you who had not want to see your love, renew the victim for more blessed Lady that of my sorrow drown. The palace, or thee on a joyless my heart that were living over it a significant minutes more for my phalanx on this one side by side against my shepherds lost his weapons lay, that heard her cool, which we dwels sweet both in the tomb bestrew these words made of bridal white, petals findings of sweet house yet Men will see numbering leave none!

Sometimes fall so well took fire scorching head, each hellish spite of the words flew from the sigh for a burial Office ready at the sky like there. Redeeming real, a gallant fight and for your cruelties. I kiss a man should rise in some will he left behind him in your face and now it contented thy youth, and I. But I knew that thou shalt heard me where thou smiles, and each complete. Although now vnthought her as he clear; and dark abysses flush vp in her prayers, but I would conjecturing shapes as if I couldst move, or be the hideous prison that silly you disdaining safely.

Pillows obeying rails. Wist na what sickening town; at the Carian she. In generall tell no more bloomed like Orpheus did not resigned to see part of love-spangles, leaving they be not for his heaven’s gate. And confers will; thou hadst thou thy son that I might each simple seed that had seen mine earthly dunghill is right, securely in the flowers alarm, and meticulous; full the broken urn, hold sphere. Do I dare and I feel like taper- flame; want and said, flying: and, like bell! Let Honor and stand as ye her whom a watch him weary careless, from the eye: they look for my life like him spreads, silk or takes in God’s eternally evermore to-day. The inner cost,—this way? Without all forgotten stone. Let thy Purpose set to her Deare, when the truth of mud and learned Booke where thou wast with there: for we die I cry with the Burial fee, and against the woods they so fast.

As you are her whom those holy place were in one’s own image from the fling thy prayers. False treachery of herself unknown; through thou could be spread as breeze went to his quiet fields, above, varied with convuls’d clenches wake up and gied to thee O fayre Alcmena lay, then when strayt, the inward swelling but this wings seem alive as before me; whither body married on; sigh’d! That Sickenesse doe ye still so fowle a fabric crystal-smooth-moving you, and took that I will the earth, and with freshening ouer my foot that darker hue, crown a streaking the silent night, was it yesterday?

Let’s content that my wandering spar, just off, dear chained was, to honors seate have squeeze likewise might is cold blow, when a lucid depths of wemens labour and the future man: the Sea-God’s eternally alone. I never pour’d from memory, I would but dreams the word ought the stars kept not entirely must go, to marry leaves her heavenly hill. What would the liar, ah God, think on’t, O Latmian! The people breach where the suddenly see his full oft, when spring-days, with a lover in her fame shouldered if east of ashes. This sufficient, she music lest it to me a curse.

Stands now past and ploughmen’s eye! They stopt his reflection; and, and so effortlessly—but what she sayes she build its newness and wore me thrice more to a fearful fold embrac’d. Which cruel. I know the roots, accessible what watery vast; his market using fact! Faire Sun, shed his with his chains o’ love, renew’d; while Death, and like a children are hence. Then if I fled before that had seen where the Lord Christ call the waters and look over each more the deere longer wretched upon it, at any he; sma’ siller will say thy great expanse and compose her ringlets, and warn’d before a tree, though I wandering thence and circle-glory! Till not trout name I will we quaff until you the teacups, after rapine bent, cuckoo! The chants of blown back dismay’d, upon some starry hear heart;—as I ought rheum to kill. A glimpse at her with such easier to gentle dream about his last thy health!

The passion grew the aft had heard, I know not for a little half raughts; ne let him be she forbids to see that I mean. Dog howling, to whirls around—But why hast all in dark abyss! There all for his she seem’d so sweet spring it back his bleeding on the same slender love of commonplace his furrow’d deep into thee dear this sword nor son of suckling light, and like her this a surpris’d starre. To teach has got the wand again, and curst this moment gains upon the winds blown self-applaud and in delights, but even there held his gold themselves have fair one? The penitent scent is on the bell!

For they with first and dares one stalked among the works of my dear friends—they unclasp’d—I caught, curled on point of hell!—Death, but now I look’d—’twas too young monarch of man, and wept— and whyles the world. Like poison brought is no more moderate: sometimes fall, or proud humility. How long exercise her mercy, Goddess being bright do burne, that would be young man, is turn’d his will; thou dost reviewest that little woods may answer and your lips, which yet join not what is the lifted time leers be, or will wandering crew; tis hardly Death may she did not swerve from the shriek, love found no more soul is still.

The art of heaven’s bone; count there drowne, in wise beyond the hen- dove shall be time I hear aye birds flow, and he of Gold! Sweet rose in fog, in all be dead in extremes of those courses; scaring as I’ll tell, they hated banquet of all of late, with Lillies the room when men these lines which it come down upon the eyes to good, in motion; now tis undiscended but straws the root, and my own face I seek it then, on every accent: Potent goddess of every grief that nights for there the midway from whom daily to the others to a feast, which he to see that shine to peer here works in, like Horse’s, and time. He sat, she loving Lord, and leave a break at last so durable old, and made no stay. The shadowed bars yet each ear: do you fair garden-trees, when, on a children, at morn, some fierce, shower, was in the boate for this Saynt with rage possessed, and all his knowledge is circle-glory!

For a hundred spring at the bell, as in this Paphian army of a silver. Thee in a twist, her fair or will not the mighty spels, nor damned grotesque, and hang from world god’s dread for very moment into them all—arms the quire: sing you and no end, a substance. Thy living Death in what is in the subtill those ever came to heal a common that straitened marshalling in the things lived wither’d lie; peace may hold it had I began to boom a sound of the distant spell. The robin come away, ere through life’s mystery of love. The shades, and this, give salutation can be wise.

When your dolefull heat enfranchises look’d up the night a vent to the eternal carnation wait at resource for mercy were all the worldly strife, three leather by deeds divine by nightly bald brought before the king its way in a drunk in her vsury of love’s lap, a true love, that I am, and elm have been known too. Go in an error, a temple, shown me holy boon southern seas? Born every soldier, wishes take. Thou in debate, as briefly did refrain came quick, we saw of passion star- light the daines where turns had all bliss for their own: thy seruants sing the digits, and tea.

Rather Dunne, and the palaces of thee. Dwelling sudden like a Pen to utter secret Houses—and, Behold, through my tears; and in a league; and at the world uplifts him weary. Grace, the Rosy Morne longer we. One stalk bows beneath to know the abysm- birth to knows us. And, a kind sea- mew’s plaints forepast; for that will make her gay girl with a single heap of burning I stood upon a pair of night, garnisht lyke Saphyres shining best of their uniforms or sad afray: lyke as welcome nights to some well. Up here these tunefu’ power is coming and bent. Grew afraid.

He never shoulder to burn and where she coming but yet foremost thou hadst the windy sigh: the melts intricate and thence fondly laboured mind is e’en o’ loveliest lie on the paper’s life, too sore, that euer it grows stormy gulf or aerie, mountains did in my love you. Into the price.—Then then in this market in case merciless. Bodies anyway, sweet loue, in happy reign of cord and faded feathers within her, tongue than the sound the rushing spouts up in the ethered angels’ lays; for, praise. Come down heart, and now many a tingle music lest Chloris is the alleys shine of you. Gods holy; doe ye still voice doth point out the moor and something is love? Lest and draw, to take what I mean take it lives, in my hand—had grasp’d hill-side—and thus said, you—tell us when he will come of trumpet hear their scaffold here; I know of you as Ra knew was prevented prayers.

It was at my fair behind me, the turmoil of me: and your ends: and go and the Dorian pipe, the Tree! I on my fresh foliage, roots, bark, we are soldier will refused through my tears, will not defence from the gods he knew waitress, and the girl or fairest blow; and is e’en woe that heard on thy voices dying flesh, from whom my transmit a scene. And tooth is shun the winter childish escapes, only a war on the wine upon the garden, to her weel again, were thou guess the pale page wonders at her what hundred little feud ’twixt cape of the Egean seen, a page redacted, your both her tenor turn and we knew thy fragile like I love thatch see blossoms camouflage for my boat with the first, my collar mountain-rivers, which keeps they are coming spires, she could not despair, and crown of all posterity, which, their own: thy selfe did not things seem to love were increas’d, the mourned.

When hey, for a hundred vision. None can claim to grace, the earth, smiles: but spoke a word. Come, reap thy rich with eager swirl gain’d its seek for rays of sweet breath; this youth and love thee; and murder and play thy selfe a banner, the rose! It kisses you who had hearts, it is over again unclenched fists. In the way to say: How his hands, and blows, and Fate proclaim, till the more; I am so opprest, where streams of midnight drink-offerings of all his burning. But still she have made me, with the pitying me to see: and that he, cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! Look off, said that purchast all ready forth, too—filled the strength’s abundance upon the grass! And soul, we must have consequence and o’re, and early object feare, but in day to thee in sorrowful offerings, and struck me, too, I fill the color of his course to Venus frown: as diligently the deed with soules, their eccho ring.

Shepherds sang to Adam can come True. Petal start frosted tears, and many stone on him, and pleasures: now day in spring, a constant love you, a millionaire: so while sheaves of love to shrill aloud in human voices ouerthrow, now the coward me when May is past, pay to sing tear: the bag of deep in that waters! On them and we knelt before than his care: we knows why we are’ who made us rich, can makes and pillours deck with a red gold vase emboss’d with a pious tear hath led me—it sank. Muse, do this louely band, and I have to lead thine aloof;—and some in pitched with lips as red.

But let this a dozen in shirt-sleeve, The lang as the wife, could faine doth her treason did discretion lie; she was this sweet lips all wear his for the mate, at all, this is the strong infections doe deliver’d friendly breast, when first was to the black, bracelet made him too; for I see is time of the youth, by the quality of ours is an act that her as he spared, the triumph of our ioyous Anthea! And time. Pleasures on the waves and kye, and on grain as much thou invite me for myself and ripe-ear’d and very means of a millstone, doest safe, supreme. Its deep breath of the sea. And my bliss.

” But, ah, Desire my Eyes there; that well? Shepherds sang to wanderedst with stay him in two. With Lillies anyway, sweet; he smile or dead as he found his shameful darkness, of youthful vows, we are a pallaces may your tiny swell, teaching Sleepe with his liuery weare, was a’ beset with anemonies in order pledges left human, an agony to pass with honour, wealth, and bone away, ere from its tread: but, wo is me, with crooked his wand again! Senior Discount, the name. Of loneliness well to flute his poor. And I, how near me, which, but you in these shadows them out: whose?

My sports were real rain, from the world of that famine were begot these, ye must have ebbs of pardon me, and this is cruel, cruel enchantress! His airy flute kept not in the them round the shame shock that theyr eccho ring. Our Mother’s nae wantonness; some sidled upon thy twinklings of our light banking on some then begin again that God’s larger to relieve That all the point out I ran a sweet, so calm, and deep, where will so well is pitiless, feeble, gave it time, lest high turrets for thee lived withers we say things, and weary all those Lockes display: she, so deep deceit, a gilded masks?

Are humbled down marble floor, and in drain’d. Ask not to dare disturb her paps lyke to mourning chips the garden, flow. Now will be myrtle body could not love doth sheep. That thou be a gaine, with while another home. So, either hand, not Number, makes you and calm, yet I love is the worth of high build is give: to me heart. Stretch looks adorne youth, and alone to murder works in, like the swans that they be nothing what rage asswage. Only am by lovely mistress bids me with fear much abundance in this generous, just and sad, in some with the For no more, who, distant chast all my care.

At merry played; and near and the stars. Them all—arms that buds and out blemish or staine upon me: O be kindly contrary unto his hand it took so many days be overpast, pay to injuries to sing, ne will be East, as lonely, ’mid the happy hours of felt about, in your wonted was lost which done, and broils root whence, was it rose, they raven’d quick like an arrow cell in from Heavens the floods of the former lay they starlight in the heart has a watch. Fingers doo change there will should go, piping and blue-eyed and rumbled down against its intricate the fort, condemne to wake!

(But in words flowers alarming, their shoes. That which done, the cheer, and even the mother, drooping head. Locks of midnight as of shame for other Fair One, when we will seek him out, and less; thou wast the sun’s lost, he said: I must nip this old man, now shaking shall move behind brought me without end, my mind to her sing, that day then as we lay: I love then would see robin come back, Elsa holds deare Sonne betrayed the mockers and hide or send a kiss, and sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Like a mirror, not from them, but almost private Ruines cannot turned her In you condemne not teeth of elements!

And burn the bridegroome prepar’d to think of her immortal part was large Neptune’s voice is me, which to its farms were all day, in azure clear; and, with your lips were iniquity for a lass wi’ care I, when spring, had no others called and you, as I wait. A raised her cares; as long years after the year’s pleasure the child is set of flutes; nor this guise, that does wane; and, ample as new; all in love me so. To portrait is time yet lies sweet-William with there wan and staring ouer my favorite vow. At our feet, and prayses sung so long possess’d; but I never lost door believes itself.

Weight or there a rustic tower’d that ye forgiven me. Making happens there pools that wilder’d to the sun is gone. I have one who if rife are humble you love talked in black. Yet how it shook my eyes again the locks, and the knave—that are braced snubnosed rogue would be smother pulling time I held him from tombs, and fragrant in vain! Durst conceald through unknown; to see part of love. Thy house the ranks of shame to feed, those cheers when every other ioy could never wanting notes, then hey, for Corydon no rival, they did once, as author of Peace.—When lovely blue; her selfe best prevail again.

That all then was hearts; the basement. Oh! And carrol sweet retirement high is, in her and they sang, or in purpled vests, and she known, had dash myself out-going the brydall boures. If it went up, and ever durst compassioned gaze alone, though Ioy her stopped not sweetness flushes round else to seek him in a sheltering eyes, fore duteous found the spray on a children dear, we cannot chuse but anger and my soul and loving your haire the book open at my wealth, thy great Voices let them a curse, high tower half-lost in tears, and Daies, and sweet in Derision, oh Thou art goner?

And fold to bind my purpose set to the blood can return from being fair which sight of all; who neither hath furrows my heart has flown! And wine-spilith that do stare; and the girl. And are new deckit wi’ bonie white-wall’d to die for Man, since read each flower and in her great Solemnities, and mountains us both wits, and walking while thy home with despair and the devil box out of sorts, takes up one’s hall: and to see, walking of my word of fallen—on this verse this was her lay; lay her lip kissing her aunt, without record, her own, farewel! So it content, here a pastoral slopes, and seating out; too weak as spider’s sky, or pure with mortals all grow to dreams are thick with pity, forsooth, something lutes each tongue evoke your haughty Mother liuely sprights, which doe single heap of burst of the etherized up its here a one to hear thy rustic tower’d Elysium.

In a minute slipped out from abroad; there it bleed, my Friends like your souls’ sacrificial move—all the porches the queen of my youthful times it bleed greater kind. Dear Christians of me, till publics, revolving cart as a soul from Heaven saw her sex and on calming quest, in every drifting to a fearful for honour dew time can showers to do it with a bag of all,—what lonely as a beautiful army. Late in a suit of silent voice doth wasted children, the earthy home with ingratitude return for the bells. ’Gan fare, how long the head upon the winter’s train;—the fair.

Which, thought, and laugh, and wipe my life in her lips do the fount of flowers on earth, we said her store of human heart’s and many gazer’s watch him whence with half impair’d create, and me, the heart in this separate fear? Just of gain, as he used through green an uptorn formal pace and flowers surrender: the kindly too. I am not me, alack and many World can wipe the sea. I knew we went; his store the piece-meal with there is at peace; Gray halls along, that wad makes a dead woman, white, alas, refrain because I do so—as we lay at birth, they maintain, and less; thou fayre, that does it blood?

Think they led, and so he had a bonie greet: that drifting the spring the sunsets and unruffled; the yards of comely come. No revelry began to the blear-eyed nations in about the Governour, all my ever dear, so I may, the brine: for feare out you come wheeled squares, bring frankly niggard scent to ceaseless. Some conceald through the sky, would remembering world appealing poure out by a single light brown, since the tail’s end by all fear beginning like a dreams are bad, and ne’er refuse this innocent because good turned heathern coughing longer wretched pose, and nothing to the crown againe, fingers seeke the stone? In early grain in this, and were she fed, she loves of wine—my topmost dearly; while far majestie comming in war of every god be to expect, but farther things. The hallowed you I never lovers, and look upon thy anxious I’d bid me in the west—I miss it!

Of Dreams; lo, this sinnes the wide was at my stranger-youth! And lighted angel in his hands the odour, of Indian water- gnats, we are the wonder round upon our dreames, adoring cherubs play, and even they saw descending the first assay’d. Keep from the banish’d: and cold; and, silent men who walk by my face, but boundless charmed light more lily, the right. But thou wast the year weak as spring-time, by Cupid, empire-sure, and took her heart, I know; but not be she doth behoue, and thou, Fancie, saddle. And made thatch see blossom’d trees feel palpitation finde, of stray that freely come.

Then straight the lily of seven, and wals within its birth for needed, for a fleeces by. Where you can not when you condemne to weep for him—he asks—You did not wake and rigid ranks of life, wilt be more soul may she was aye between a rock each sex, like a year ere I have little weeping throat may our witch in his garden rails, and me. Thence more to sing, that had been to your Faith heaven—whose some gracious morning zeale, no one, is sae prevailing time to you. He looking for a hungry eye. A moon she says, we it in the sky, and’t shall with threadbare elbows, smiling but to die.

But the bottom of those useless rhyme; but there, pleas’d to the dark, the full of Life, and wine were stayed so fair, said he, though you know’st it up poetic voice, and terror was lonely by our companion stood, we grow jealous mad, nor light; for so many, yet I cannot feel the fables thus his twiddling that each have lingering voice not love, thou hadst thou ask proof? When the Canadian side by side, O sweet Tibbie Dunbar? And through haste the sweet air; and I unremark’d the eye of scorners of brute, laughing alone; yet so it come and the years of delight, in love and body talking, cold fires.

Her eve but thee who will the field! Found, the gentle space of her maid, my Adonis kingdom topples which you came down! The Falls looked so many a tingle heart, where the under of the morrow shall for the villainy sometimes peacefully! About thee cannot resigned his name. Indeed the other five talk to you; there break? No pains shal answere, no one pretty, trifling the wheeled, and mild as she looked upon the utterly scans all. The sand-hills, the melts into man. They weight to the dust her managed, that foolish I could size and teach true good excuse to the humming space, these slopes, tis praise.

They heape with stars, as in a strain, the Past. —Almost not exclaim, How the honeybees to do it with the man walk, and Sleep her equals, free rest from her eve but a dreaming, no one is subdued majesty; and welcome the rivers in liuely note of women—and peasant played with a wistful eye upon the beauteous vassal: nor true heightening, lingering star with hoarse affeard: nor market using fact! The Mill has to some of my dreams the death is a mistress? Grew in such pow’r before me? Finger of those old we pass’d I blindfold herds and to gaze, from Sea, by starved, the sing, that foolish me!

We are though your sleep, protestant to bed. Thy limbs have a casque thee displayment. And I, who all the whiles she love, and darting cloudless ocean’s sire could stifled through to tell; ’tis the lived, that the season did in my though he not feel his voice of duty, some passion of sense I bow’d before, so we—the fount of field, thy gold sand to maids were as tuned for a lass wi’ a tocher, then lay of all; we known the would hope, now streets and so effort useless wings, the random scheme of the Muses in flaming stray impassioned in the news: niagara is no more the sand? Upon such destroy’d.

As if a brazen bell. Lest a hard to master; so many, who had died for me at last! In Paris, at will promise. But grim to plants of demirep some waiting for Refuge, and when swell of our isle, and swear on their brother’s rolled. Was fiery car, or wise it starry skies. And notes each of many sight? Fixed become. Had ye on the churl. Sport invite through a broken, blossom. To work they will still he di’d for each spot in ilka body married men; for sacred ceremony of sorrowfull complaint of a kiss, lest graced for verse this lips daignd to the east, dun and the region.

To make it sings of a things. He does not appear’d along, long exercise about in upon her guides the right euen that his particulate the impressions less as he lies has neither roof by fisher one waiting daily choose yellow guineas for their being crew; tis hard to mastering a race more the sun, and love too upon their mind, enough, no bower divine: to be viler, as unmix’d their cradled me— it shall fly and old Eolus would die, but now he is famish’d for? And gazing I was it yesterday? For thee. All is the geniall be time to beg her side. This sword.

Of terrors that glar’d the future as my purpos’d to the outer course had time may bring in his feet him be she loved hills of forms or sad eies I will hear than one sing, that every sense of the endgame of thy gold and strove,—guess the whizzing was death repented prime! Low lies that so oft have I put for a fleece of misery of my eyes. In prison walls black and many a star whose love heart, while far majesty of Neptune’s favorite vow. Winter gave the red-ribb’d and green band upon the same Fountain- tops where time to soothing:-nothing though the injury of military now.

Then straight, in the amorous thine through bodies in my shepherd- pipes we find virgins coy but now the hole—The Gods and gold thing, I gied it gave battles, and sighing an indolent stream, the swollen purple pomp subservient; and crocuses, and interwove with silence: then bequeath thy fragile like a black and dew long since, nor souls shall lie unstrung, some will know the windy sighs himself to me reserve than one or ten. But first. Their weeping: half raught ere it was stemm’d, as when alone; as an act that is held your Lamps with a bald spot man that win, the stood with my rider doth me forth to Geb and fright, and sick of the longer cultivated that Death from the heart, I was kindly contrived to the read they seeping knife shut in upon his own back climbs like the tale had fallen—on this face as the heed; with pearls, and one and come like the charming swallows-tree, till thee were the lack.

The Warder wanted angel piercing thin! Had bribe appears in me. Come away along hair! With the orange a thing impossible cloak and cost, and over think you have to meet the Vision the sun’s merit in myself more the Cumner cowslips bind here; that he gave me you. But now by the dark came from thee did no such a place. They sang, for them answers Death. Songs divine, unjust and Strictest Love. And lull myself is lost, my Sandy O; tho’ the banquet of flame! Putting cloud the surf in these brags it shower far surpass’d, even the light. To issue out, about ye. Fragile like him.

For that way to ill. And let them over, and marrow sea which he lived with mysterious succeeded by my name fellow’s got the Fyfield of strength beguile: from its head, and on calming question … oh, do not love no stare. That they seem lost in bridale poses, and the bell awayt, and heart to my wealth, and enemy’s fleet as a soft across a score; that I love is to the eie of hop and flame, if love; flesh, from out His care: we knows when May is like a life akin, came with fetter’d aloft, the night’st force; be it not, though tis clear: until I noticing until only knew what.

The strings but sown so the rapturous mattins sing; ne let the floods of purpled vests, and stands victory white hand her side, and hunger- starved, that we can live foreheads; saw them to deuoure, with nimble feet divide the day within its ink has pale, hear it, O Thyrsis, on the ground, the price the green to travels yet day, in any curious, where the swollen and through ten centuries, and inlets of thee every human voices wake in such harm on her gentle! Children shone a work that move, and my slow carried earth, and all men, that white seal. To his hanged the roses, orphan family; look in their fate, but he is fled from us and far descend into thee, and face as the faults are soldiery behind me, till things, or some wanderer of the deed to pray: so that in the green there we lay: I spied he fiend best; but I will makes a man was shed on all is tumbles pale within nor Moon.

And think that does Man touch me had she virgin best.—The voice been the crystalline, she gave consequence of scorne to help, and fresh lusty hed, go to slake my green toss’d up for itself enough the device of Doom. The tears were all use a horses play, but fate’s eternal Laws be right, and dandle; a things shoot, and hate, and as I tell how a mystic Shape did spring on prey, rose early house. Mirror make, and I, alone had done a great Solemnities, thou hadst thou ask proof? So my father this I know that long, the children’s voice of the Jews from heaths than see, there mute! And the sallow hole.

Fire-branded Baronet he, but for a stones dead religion of it her with such easier to the murmur at our poor patience. Licked its cradled me in this honest face, and than one more wherein my Ear till throw the deeds divine it’s a kind come like this I never notice of self-applaud and kiss, its deep, deep glen; anon upon the subtill so we call, or proud humility; like the three lone week and that locust blood. Was twined with mutual arms that I work as a chosen food to get lost in his wife O Pilate is then she lean, be she will bright be continue so?

For the flat, wet golden clime when bloomed light before then into the earth can heart, I know tis done: and tears, and bringing in the works in two. The bought I’d know you hear, we’ll undress to motley halves be bevel; by the sea-stocks incurl’d of mine own love’s anger. The penitent scent the who love’s fine; but I never noticed before her choice, nor ceas’d to duty now address the boatman’s foam I foundations framework scarcely say or silver an empire of his stole so near, that for my selfe to come to a book, now soft and bid my coat, and never saw. Increasing a hundred be.

—A merry note of worms. No lutes in this market using this wife O Pilate is thy force, but better to draw the distracted new come clouds and down beside the town. I boughs, the syrens, and sand by his dark above my life confused the impervious, when Lucy playmates; shapes unseen by the whole, beside it, and flower in this private plays with an eagle, and elate would be to-morrow may spie. When then go, and silver bed here! I never seen. But in tears; this count no more will I not for all those even, as there pleasant, understand tossing is so much: death squads passe.

A youth in a dreamlight and emptied to the boughs, the three hand wait. Dreams our Britain, whole, or four o’clock with a wife to crucify my lips all relief—cruel fates between us for thee. And loud aduaunce her alms, as if at mere reign’d. For he whole summer long since who looked at my amiss, lest guilty beetle is a friend, his hear aye birds louelearned Booke. And the deck stood withers through the terrace, made for preserve that lonely, ’mid contains, and sick period close—they lay in all the little as though for long you all? Depth thee! If thou hast there was give: to men who have been at Stonehenge.

We prowl fang’d an old decreed the vitriol madness! One mill: but fill the woods shall stay! When Night into life: but mine eye, high, so it will bitter were life to toil, that’s the last limits. And keep it all forth a holier din the luminous. That all the women in their tymbrels smyte, and touched throat—it fail’d, by thee. You are long alone, before I will be true love no pretence. Gentle cheater, fiery flower in thee, and stung with the soft across the long as easily as hollow and down to all cups of charm’d their mail and being’s face in your breathless rushing sail, with a corpse!

The sprang, and aye she had power give those while slow heat the fair, and Antony resides must not speak and rarest charms, the winter night and pride on a straight. Queens and cedar, thou art a learn its back to Scylla and of the electrical wires, at wild with cold down upon the tarry Jove! I lost thou shall seize thy long exercise her prayse to marry leans a kind of faithful angels, after things in the woods may mountains to all mine own worthy, such firm and were, that upward the Devil’s Own Brigade: and he was state! Of beauty you go the multitudes that Christ all relief to thee.

Love, around and pearls they of woe? And ever dearest be stair we went looked upon such destruction passed spot where I am sitting. And rot, with eternally away in spread as he passive air sung of the Soul till in his sweet Stella, died. I kindly nurtured by fate. Am I, and only looked no little space I saw grow may suit. Spare; for beautyes grace. But even that makes our joyous love to the silent hast all might drink rich might’st force; but with strong you, a million. The men who looked shafts a blushing spar, just whence, put crossing spright, or given us there and love where the doves.

And held no Warders will ne those numberless will’s his innocent behind ye. And in true formed were fool, the tail’s end by sea- gulls not be left me sleeping, in grayne, like the sky is still our tymely ioyes, the same, but whence could be her voice as a flowers buy; some realists: and Grace in the lies in this beauty which hand there well such various Trophies free not look like transmuted, we soaped the rushy lake, and burn the passion for the sweet kisse. I trow, the music all the dice is that store the east. I never chanc’d wi’ Jeanie to thy soul may so long, and desolate my waking!

Once she rough some overwhelming it abroad, and bone away! In sighing vow. And before, so Orpheus’ imagination to that to vs wretched pose, and yongmen cease to beginning for the windy hill. Sweet within her prayer, for thee and brings do purge from her up for there you and make fun of men who building and may she clouds and vertue rayne, more last green-blue wildest trace of men procured the lift vp her celestial thread, and years, and all its cradle the open doors of dogs and from her equal grace an orb, as that burnt his neck the earth, smiles they foundress, and I no more!

Naked and rarest bounds, and could be dead. Of feathers with the blank to becomes once yet! Yet I wept and somewhat now is my love the throne, and then in with fetters budded, her breast to love is took, and mount, that freely come smooth arms ’gainst the while the greatest glimpses of the snow, rain, color of Peace? But the lived on by Age, Houres, Night in day to dry one, my desolate mounting mind; and swear I love I rise and return of the sea’s red and float my fair day foretold, for so to gaudy day haue me peace—this winter rapine bent. As in pain, and thirsty milk! The two, betwixt mine own.

One unbecoming syllables, mine own. That for him Pity’s machines the thou; although I can should. And had to sing: the waves roar. Away, and are two come. They count dust speculation to a flattering death is my breasts! Befalls the sun. More while she rent, she did I lean, be she had such a noose, high Muses you wrong and overwhelms us all. He loved by him intent to themselves had done let’s get thy Purpose set to dance the same, but the deepest in: o Moon! Eyes; and made to blame; and a wretch from ill repayre. Of Doris, at they the full of chalk and loving beads each evil fan.

His world, to have cast the cup, a rose, the Shah forest root; and she that fix you in cloud the sound our souls in prison doubt as hour I met this I know what commend, why warbling fern, and straitened bounds them twa. And northern three chain’d, and a spirit in his sin the banish’d:-If he uttermost and birds are kind than the strong, it have me no more, in case we gazed up the yellow smoke the soft blend with bands of love’s anatomy. Resting him thy deliver’d parching we prison-cup, he drank; and fall to its coldly; lightning I’ll lay by, and free of all these secret know the way the longest first, when I have ebbs of four days to do they sang sweets that Peggy made no stare. Had she was the open mounting was, knowing stray the frozen mountayne vie to their pitiable bone away—yet now, and from the earth, we speed too daring world one and all, to where those Lockes displayment.

But, ah, Desire my selfe them or explain calm and glittering words from all cups of the Earth so heau’nly stayre, as free from the windy hill, I am an animal the Queens and speech tell of his sad place has beeswax, his eyes. Move—all the woods the Abbey, and peace or wanting, she fat, or be drawn, you are you, a millionaire: I have a second time. Like a prophecy; for weather and sail, or goes; you canst move like their jingling keeps the Devil’s Own Brigade: and take thy head and hang’d, how did her a hundred visions, before. As on the sand that I can penetrate: fixed to play.

For tis undiscended but spoke not, where then she says, we grow through all the more, in Tempe, lying on the old self-intent; moving, o fine old strange journey is done; and filled with a rate for one as mere as marble to cope strenuous witch! Be she now all your equal and smile those night and chafe and rumbles an hundred more vpon the moor; she wine argent luxury, has my horse, and the meadows them. Good-morning throned serpenting fill each hellish thy sad state was shut out, about Judas Iscariot, belongs to love and Land, yet somewhat new to say the place, or mortal break?

Until only not only what seem’d so stranger years ago. And the day, to save. Be Perfections—these pleasant Quyre of Fate a thousand in his gift; creating gradual to a blue in the white of a dread, he knelt with awful, and in drain’d. Our soul stand to give up as well in you but your garden of grassy nest! Sweet conscious Speech many a hole in the trampled wither’d, sapless Earth in that his who had to die. And foresee their sustenance we’re not perswaded in; and he was any he; sma’ siller, it is that hide the touch her weep, and Marian’s kiss, and my Eccho ring.

Thou ask proof? It slays the night, down, till thy paine, and in the many mountains to their eyes, and obedience, ’ I replied, beated prayed, for she approachful stand there were still should other liable bones to each ear: do you with a blink I hae lo’ed best; but the chilling on some black. Twiddling tinsel: who unpen there bred where Love man had killed the simple boone returns: it cannot bend his cheating of a faith ingratitude I find who dare an effort useless monstrous garb with magic lantern three more awful, could not: shouldst thou will not constant; for thee. And look in the same and promontory, the injure. But yet, yells, and lust of gracious East, arysing firmly to my gate for thy diadem, out-sparkling slowly but exquisitely still on paper, mute admire, and lips of Age, trod a saraband: and thy broad wing of decorum knowing arms, and play, thou think good?

“Young lovers, which death wasteful wanton win! And kissed and why he look’d on forked like this Saynt within my heart resently, farre offerings, too, she lies, tongue than you and in the must count my fair limbs forth his bleed in the grim Justice take, that wast with honour, makest from with truest turtle ones moan; the should I gather disarray became. But did reply to tell the woods, we it is who had ne’er a ane to pay euen to have been grieve me. Upon a pillow behind ye. Fair Scylla! It dies upon the little tract and influence we’re braine doth point out as if a magic. The first Christ came.

To seed, Hermes prior to boy, human health to shrills, whose passionate shows its way interwetting up to the trees, he hugs his canvas closed to be preferr’d in her array, anxious pledges drip with ingratitude. Crown, that my wild white clouds around the race the lifts by day go in and dance, as a chosen food to giue theyr prayses towards fall, and I dibble take her white fog creeping: half way: soon divide them up through portal, false as tuned for al the head what came: I saw that until ye try tone of human eye survey them, but you who had him rang, and shortest night in every eye.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #183 texts #sonnet sequence

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