And here’s the poem for Bouchardy (well , “Bouchardi”, here– Petit Cenacle Kids don’t worry too much about exact spelling in their names:P)
This one is a much more typical Petrus Borel poem– no German myths, no melancholy, just some good ol’ revolutionary violence against the ruling classes.
Under the cut for a Whole Lotta Stabbing, but again no translation, because: long:
Sunday morning spinning: Stokowski Rhapsodies
What Sam Winchester and Steve Rogers have in common is that they are both men who are strong and intelligent and skilled enough to be essentially unstoppable and still it only ever occurs to them to use that power to do the kind, humane, right thing.
When I say I’m bisexual, what I mean is, I love every single woman and Jared Padalecki.
For the record, the reason I’m a Sam girl is because he’s both an immeasurable badass and a kind, woke person. That, and Jared Padalecki.
the very first thought i have each morning when i wake up is “i’d rather be dead”
but i am still so very glad i did not kill myself at the age of fifteen.
in five years, i have known. i have known triviality
physical scars that shine white and straight on my skin, and
emotional scars so deep i am still recovering from them.
but most importantly, i have known love. i have known
love for myself, and love for the people who have sewn me back together
piece by piece
tear by tear
and smile by smile.
i have known these people inside and out
dreams and thoughts and ambitions and fears and most of all,
we hold each other together at the seams. every time we split
we glue ourselves back together with memories and heartache and drunken heartfelt confessions.
this is me, baring my birthday suit to you. my insecurities
are my nakedness. my heart
is on my sleeve.
i am scarred. i have
rolls and snags and marks where there should be none, i
am coming apart at the seams, i am spilling over
with feeling, with the idea that there is a beyond. what do you think people think of
when they think of a beyond? do they mean the one that comes to them after they die or
the one that happens to the world after they do?
sometimes i hold on to these ideas of almost-existentialism and try not to cry when we read about them in class.
i used to say i was broken.
when i said i was broken, i imagined a sea of smashed lightbulbs, filaments
flickering feebly in an attempt at survival. what i was, was broken mirror
and an unsaveable phone screen. in my head,
i was poetry. but this is me, in my birthday suit. not hiding behind my purple
prose, not hiding behind my blurry concept of broken. i
am not broken. i was never
i like to think about the fact
that iron flows through my veins. i think about it a lot, the way i used to think
that letting the blood out of them would help me vocalise my broken.
today, i went for a walk and i thought of ways to not go home and make it look like an accident.
(i am fat, i am worthless, i am redundant, i don’t deserve to live i don’t deserve to live i)
today, i came back home. i ate dinner. i wrote this poem. i talked to my friends. and i thought about whether anyone really deserves to live.
the way i see it, i’ve been holding on for so long for the promise of bright lights and soft smiles and long car rides into the unknown and someone to fix me, to put me back together
i forgot what i already had.
i have glue, i have drunken confessions and smiles and long drives and longer hugs from people who love me.
twenty-five is just five years away, and it feels like forever.
i know how fast it’s going to go. i know. i know i’m going to look back, and i’m going to say
“i’m so glad i didn’t kill myself at the age of twenty.”
what i’m trying to say is chin up, sunshine.
this feeling will never go away.
you will always feel the pull of steel and you will always look at very tall buildings with just one guilty thought, and write bad poetry, and fuck up your metaphors, and
hold on to your hearts of glass and your constellations and your big city dreams, and
that one person you can’t stop writing about.
you’re going to find your birthday suit. you’re going to find your naked
your “i’m barely holding on”
your swan song. you’re going to stand in front of someone with a full heart
and an unburdened soul
even if it is for five minutes, you’re going to hold your best friend’s hand and say
“i’m so glad i didn’t kill myself five years ago,”
“i love you.”
chin up, sunshine.
it’s never going to get better
and that’s more than okay.
To prevent every interrogation, I will then frankly say: Yes, I am republican! Let the Duke of Orléans, the father, be asked, if he remembers, when he was going to solemnly swear August 9th at the Ex-Chamber, from the voice that was haunting him, throwing into his face the cries Liberty and Republic, in the middle of the acclamations of a silenced populace? Yes! I am republican, but it’s not the sun of July that causes to bloom in me this high thought, I follow it from childhood,- but not a red or blue garter republican at my carmagnole, store-shed windbag and planter of poplars; I am republican as a lynx would hear it: my republicanism, it is of lycanthropy! — If I speak of Republic, it’s because this word represents for me the largest independence that can leave association and civilization….
Those who will say: This volume is the work of a madman, of one of these romanticist ibex who have put the soul and the good God back in fashion,who, according to these figarotiers, eat children and make grog in skulls. For those ones, I can avoid them, I have their description. Forehead depressed or strangled as if by forceps, dirty blond hair, from each side of the cheeks a lanyard of furry hide, a shirt collar enshrouding the head and forming a double triangle of white canvass, stovepipe hat, petty-coat 49 and umbrella.
For those who will say: This is the work of a saint simoniaque!… for those who will say: This is the work of a republican, of a basiléophage: he must be killed!… For them, these will be shopkeepers without a shopping centre: junk peddlers without customers are tigers!… notaries who would lose everything to one reform: the notary is philippist like a passementerie trader!… These will be good people, seeing the Republic in a guillotine and the assignats. The Republic for them is but a beheading. They have understood nothing of the lofty mission of Saint-Just: they reproach him for some necessities, and then they admire the carnage of Buonaparte, — Buonaparte! — and his eight million men killed!
-Petrus Borel, Rhapsodies, 1832 (translation: Olchar E. Lindsann)
me listening to sheer heart attack and a night at the opera like
Do u lose your shit over the line ‘I don’t wanna die, I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all’ or r u normal
I’ll Never Get Over You [Ben Hardy x Reader] Part Seven
Authors Note: Still so happy with the response so far and I love that you’re all enjoying it. I’ll admit, this part is quite short compared to previous chapters as I’m gradually building up to the draaama that is coming soon. This is a bit crap, I had a bit of writers block and this is sort of a filler chapter if anything else.
I hope you enjoy anyway and I promise, what you’ve all been waiting for will be with you soon!
Lots of love
Pairings: Ben Hardy x Reader
Your lips molded with Ben’s as you poured all the love you had always had for him into it, drinking him in. Your hands found his hair, tugging slightly to get him closer to you and when he pulled away slightly, a small moan escaped you.
For a moment the pair of you just stared at one another, catching your breath.
“S-sorry,” you said sheepishly.
You tore your glance away from him, your thumb nail between your front teeth, embarrassed by your desperate actions. You stood up, running your hand through your hair as you walked over to the worktop and turned your attention to the city view from your window. There were a mix of emotions flowing through you right now, making you uneasy to say the very least. This was exactly what you had been trying to avoid. Getting close to Ben could only mean heartbreak and now you had a little girl to think of.
Ben pushed his chair out and joined you at the counter, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. You melted into his touch. No one could make you feel quite like he did.
“Ben, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have -,” you sighed, feeling incredibly foolish.
“Hey,” he whispered in your ear, “It’s okay,”
You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with unshed tears. You wanted him back so much, you wanted him to know the truth.
“Ben, I -,”
“Shh, it’s alright, I understand,” he told you softly, stroking your hair, “Maybe I should go,”
He turned to the table to grab his keys and jacket, giving you enough time to capture his hand to stop him in his tracks.
“Wait, please,” you say desperately.
He faced you, his eyes full of sadness.
“Ben I have a lot going on right now, what with raising Molly alone and my job and trying to keep this roof over both our heads - you’ve been back for four days, we can’t just pick up where we left off, things have changed, I’ve changed,”
He nodded, his brows furrowed as he bit the inside of his cheek.
“You’re right,” he mumbled.
You gave him an apologetic look.
“I’m not saying that we can’t try again but - I’m not sure I’m ready,”
Ben did his best to brush your excuse off, shrugging his shoulders and avoiding your gaze to hide his disappointment.
“I’ll see you later,”
“I’m sorry Ben,”
Although this wasn’t the outcome he had hoped for when you had leaned in to kiss him, he still wasn’t prepared to give up on you just yet.
“I’ll see you Thursday,”
What he said didn’t register with you straight away. It wasn’t until, the silence got too much for you that you looked at him, his smile etched on his face.
“Wait, what?” You asked puzzled.
“Our date remember, I mean I’m still up for it and let’s face it, what else are you going to do?”
You scoffed and crossed your arms.
“I have plenty of things to do, thank you very much,”
Ben stifled a small chuckle, biting his bottom lip as his eyes flickered up to yours. You let out a sigh of defeat and rolled your eyes, the look he was giving making your heart flutter.
“But I guess I could rearrange them,” you told him, giving him a subtle wink.
He smiled and you could tell he was elated with your decision. A soft kiss was planted on your cheek and he soon disappeared from the house as you heard the front door shut. You smiled lightly to yourself, walking into the living room and falling back on the sofa, a small giggle escaping your lip.
“Mummy? Where did Ben go?”
You snapped out of your daydream, seeing Molly wander back into the living room, rubbing her tired eyes.
“He had to get home to Freddie, now I think its time for bed,”
“But what about my hot chocolate?” She moaned.
You mentally slapped yourself, completely forgetting that you had been in middle of making her drink before you and Ben had locked lips.
“Sorry darling, go up to bed and I’ll bring it to you,”
“Okay!” She said excitedly, “Oh Mummy?”
“Yes sweetheart?” Taking a quick sip of the remains of your glass of water from earlier.
“Is Ben your Prince Charming?”
Your question made you choak on your drink as you processed what Molly had just asked.
“Uh - honey -,”
“He looks like Prince Charming,” she grinned, “You could be his Princess,”
You chuckled lightly, rubbing her head gently.
“I think you’ve been watching to many Disney movies, go on, up you go, Mummy will up in a minute,”
She gave you a cheeky smile and rushed up to her bedroom while you made her drink. Once you’d tucked her into bed and read her her bedtime story, you decided to get an early night yourself to recollect on the days events. Maybe Molly was right - Ben was your Prince Charming, in a goofy sort of way. God knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t had turned up when he did. You wanted to let him back into your life so much but you were terrified of rejection again, you couldn’t stand losing him. So you decided to continue to play your cards close to your chest until the time was right and you were a hundred percent sure that Ben wanted the same thing.
Thursday soon came around, your date with Ben was soon approaching. Your stomach was a bundle of nerves as you walked into the office that morning and you were already beginning to count down the hours until home time. Although you had had a small run in with Lucy the other day, you decided that life was too short to hold grudges; she only had your best interests at heart after all. She and Rami had agreed to look after Molly for you and Molly was more than excited to have a sleepover. That morning she had come into your bedroom with a little packed bag, ready to go, becoming very disappointed when you told her she had to go to school first.
“Now are you sure you’re okay looking after Molly tonight?” You asked for about the thirtieth time that morning.
Lucy rolled her eyes with a smile.
“Yes, please don’t worry, we’ll watch Frozen and I’ll make sure she doesn’t stay up too late,”
You nodded, trying to reassure yourself that Molly was going to be alright and you didn’t have to feel guilty about leaving her for one night to go out with her dad.
“So you never told me, what happened to your wrist?”
You’d been dreading that question all day. Lucy hadn’t noticed your bruised wrist yesterday as you had made a conscious effort to wear a long sleeve cardigan over your work top but today it was just too warm to cover it up.
“It’s nothing - I just had an accident at home,” you lied.
She didn’t seem convinced pursing her lips at you. You noticed her gaze and felt very sheepish but continued to avoid the truth. If you told her that Bradley had hurt you, she’d blame herself.
“I’m fine, honestly,”
Lucy agreed to leave it and quickly changed the subject to ask you about your plans for this evening.
“So - this date tonight then -,”
“It’s not a date,” you scoffed.
“No?” She questioned.
“No,” you told her firmly, your eyes shifting slightly.
“He’s an old friend, it’s just a catch up,” you tell her throwing her off the scent.
Realising that you weren’t going to give her any gossip on your plans for the evening, Lucy returned to her work and before you knew it, the day was over. You made your way home and got Molly ready for her sleepover at Lucy’s before getting yourself a quick shower and dolling yourself up the night.
To say you were nervous was understatement. You felt so nauseous, like when you’re about to sit a really important exam or sing in public. Applying some makeup and making sure your hair was perfectly in place, you were almost ready as you spritz some of your perfume; the one that Ben loved on you, and popped your shoes on. You weren’t trying to impress him but you still wanted to make an effort, even if nothing did come out of it.
You stood in front of your mirror, your hands trailing over the fabric of your dress, a shaky breath escaping you as you felt the butterflies within your stomach erupt at the sound of the doorbell. He was here. Grabbing your bag and switching off the lights, you made your way downstairs to greet him.
“Hi,” you smiled.
He took your breath away, standing there in a tight fitted white shirt underneath his leather jacket. He wore a brooding look while you stepped out of the door, closing and locking it behind you before walking over to his car.
“You look beautiful,” he told you softly.
You lowered your head, hiding your blushing face. You slid into the front seat of his car and tapped your nails nervously on your knee as Ben began to drive.
“So where are we going?” You asked.
Ben smirked, flashing you a wink before continuing to focus on the road.
“It’s a surprise,” he told you, “But I promise, you’re gonna love it,”
“I’ll hold you to that Hardy,”
To be continued…
@little-welsh-wonder @neverendingstories00 @myescapefromthislife @mestiza003 @evemarie05 @kurri-kurri @mrsmazzello @findingillyria @themarchoftherainbowqueen @cjand10 @peace-and-love-will-last-forever @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ellietaylor @fairestkillerqueenofall @thosequeenboys @elektraofcrete @gwenthwips @lifesacrime24 @killer-queen-87 @im-an-adult-ish @rosesvioletshardy @okilover02 @fancybrittrash
Can we just take a minute and appreciate his smile. Kthanx
I’ll Never Get Over You [Ben Hardy x Reader] Part Four
Authors Note: Hello all! I hope you’re all good! Here is part 4 for you and I’m so glad your enjoying it so far.
If you want to be tagged, just let me know and I’ll happily add you.
Enjoy guys, lots of love
Lunch wasn’t as bad as you had first anticipated it to be. It was pleasant enough as you and Ben semi caught up on the last four years that you’d been out of eachothers lives. Of you left out the parts that you’d rather not dwell on, like the part where you found out you were pregnant just days after he left. The little voice in your head was niggling at you the entire time, shouting at you to tell him the truth but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. There was too much water under the bridge now and he’d never understand.
It had been a good few hours since you’d all come back to your house for lunch and it was getting quite late in the afternoon but you had no intention of asking Ben to leave just yet. He offered to help clean up the kitchen but you insisted you had it under control, telling him to go into the living room. He did as you said and retired to the lounge, sitting down on the sofa while Molly played with her toys on the rug.
“You’re that man that Mummy talks about, aren’t you?”
Ben was taken back by Molly’s sudden question and racked his brain for how to answer it.
Molly nods, neglecting her Barbie dolls to talk to Ben directly.
“Mummy said you were friends before Molly born,” she said.
Ben smiled lightly at how she missed little words out of her sentences although for a four year old she was incredibly advanced. He was still not sure how to approach this, but he gave it his best shot.
“Yes, we were - good friends,”
Of course, you and Ben were so much more than that. You were one of those couples that other people wished they could be. Always laughing, always loving one another. Not many people got to experience a relationship like that. Even Rami and Lucy were envious of you both. But one day it just all went wrong. Ben was away so much with work and you were left alone. You both knew it couldn’t last, with him so far away for so long, it couldn’t last. Of course, neither of you had planned on having Molly, it was just one of those things.
“Did you love Mummy?” She asked, her eyes very serious.
Those words were the last thing Ben was expecting to hear from a four year old. She was very inquisitive for her age and she clearly had a strong head on her shoulders.
“Well I uh -,” he paused, trying to find the words.
“Mummy loved you,” Molly smiled sadly as she picked up her teddy bear, holding it close to her.
Ben suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. He had no idea that you still felt something for him, as far as he was concerned the relationship had run its course and neither of you were happy. Secretly, he wished he’d never left and the only reason he was back was to tell you that, but given the circumstances, he knew he couldn’t do that now.
“I did love her, yes,” he said, giving her a sad smile.
Molly smiled happily back and all of a sudden stood to her feet.
“Wait here Ben, I show you something,” she said excitedly before rushing into the kitchen and coming back with a piece of paper, shoving it in Ben’s hands.
“Wow, what’s this?” He said as he glanced over the scribbled picture he was now holding.
“It’s Molly, Mummy and Daddy,” she told him, pointing at each coloured in figure on the page.
Ben, although amazed, was puzzled. You had told him that Molly didn’t have a dad, that he didn’t even know she existed, so it confused him that although she had no father figure in her life, who she had drawn and more to the point, why.
“I don’t have a Daddy so I made him up,” she explained.
He was surprised at how much it resembled himself but just took it as a coincidence. Any four year old would draw a big scribble with yellow hair.
“I wish you were my Daddy,” she sighed sadly.
Ben’s heart filled with love all of a sudden. He was so angry with himself for abandoning you. Maybe if he hadn’t of left, he could’ve been Molly’s father.
“I’d be proud to if I was, Molly,” he smiled lightly.
He didn’t understand it. He’d only known Molly for a day and already he felt an enormous sense of responsibility towards her, almost like he wanted to protect her at all costs.
“Everything okay?” You asked as you made your way back into the room.
Ben and Molly both looked up at you in surprise and it melted your heart to see them bonding. You wondered how much longer you could go without telling either of them the truth. It was impossible. It would mess with Molly so much, her small brain wouldn’t be able to handle it. Besides, Ben would never understand and the last thing you wanted was for him to leave again.
“Molly was just showing me her drawing,” Ben beamed.
Your eyes widened as they shot to the paper clutched in Ben’s hands. How had Molly snuck past you and taken the picture off of the fridge without you noticing? You swallowed hard and walked over to them both, taking the drawing from him.
“Molly, this stays on the fridge, go and put it back please!” You snapped, regretting it instantly as Molly’s happy expression saddened.
Molly sighed and took the picture from you following your instructions to place it back on the fridge.
“She was only showing me Y/N, don’t been too hard on her,” Ben said.
“I don’t need parenting advice from you!” You spat.
“I - I wasn’t,” Ben stuttered on his words slightly.
Just then a very sad Molly came back into the room. She stood by the doorway and looked up at you.
“I did it Mummy, I’m sorry,” she told you, hanging her head.
You let out a sigh and scooped her up in your arms, giving her a tight cuddle.
“No darling, Mummy is sorry, you’ve done nothing wrong,” you cooed, stroking her long hair softly, turning to face Ben, “Sorry,” you whispered.
Ben raised his hand, letting you know it was okay and there was no need to apologise. You didn’t know why you’d snapped. Maybe it was because you were terrified that Ben may find out the truth and that was something you weren’t prepared to let happen. He could never know that Molly was his daughter.
“I suppose I’d better get out your hair, I’ve more than out stayed my welcome,” he sighed, downing the rest of his tea.
“Molly, say goodbye to Ben,” you tell your daughter, putting her back down on her feet.
“Ohhh,” she whined, “But I don’t want Ben to go,”
Ben chuckled as he stood up to grab his jacket and attach Freddie’s lead to his collar.
“Aw, I’m sorry Molly, I need to get home but I had a great time,” he smiled down at her.
You were dreading what could possibly come next, you sensed a classic Molly tantrum coming on, which was the last thing you needed right now.
“Will you come see me and Mummy again?” she asked hopefully, her bright green eyes matching his.
Phew. No tears so far, that was a good sign. Ben’s eyes shifted to look at you, unsure of how to answer, giving the decision to you.
“Maybe,” you said, showing no emotion on your face at all.
Your response stung Ben. You’d been getting on so well and he wanted that to continue. He knew he’d messed up but he was trying to redeem himself and make it up to you. Your short reply only filled him with disappointment.
“Right, c'mon Fred, let’s go,” he said as the dog jumped up excitedly.
Molly gave him a gentle stroke before sitting back down with her toys, no longer interested in saying goodbye. Once you made it down to the front door, Ben took the opportunity to say a proper goodbye to you, leaning against the door frame, a small smirk etched on his face.
“Thanks for today,” he said, clearing his throat a little whilst looking at the floor.
“It’s okay, it made Molly happy that’s the main thing,” you shrugged, refusing to look up at him.
Why were you being so cold again? Ben had thought the past few hours had gone as well as they possibly could but you were still off with him.
“So uh - I guess I’ll see you later then,”
It was more of a question that anything else as he anxiously waited for you say something along the lines of ‘Yeah sounds great’ or 'Tomorrow good for you?’.
“I - I don’t know,” you said hesitantly, cacooning your arms around yourself.
Ben frowned as he watched you draw into yourself.
“Is everything okay?” He asked.
How could he think that anything was okay with this situation?
“Look whatever it is, I’ll help, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his expression sincere and honest as you locked eyes with him.
It didn’t make any difference, a few hopeful words from him didn’t change the fact that he had abandoned you all those years ago. You couldn’t just go back to normal and act as if it never happened, it was always inside your mind, permanently there like a tattoo.
“That’s what you said last time and look what happened there,” you said coldly under your breath, “I can’t risk you coming back into my life again, I need to put my daughter first,”
Ben agreed although your words cut him like a knife. You had always been stubborn so he knew ther was no point trying to argue with you, that was how you ended up splitting in the first place.
“You’re right,” he sighed, “It was stupid for me to come back here, I should’ve stayed away,”
You rolled your eyes at his comment and shook your head in disagreement.
“No Ben, it’s not that - it’s just, Molly and I have been through a lot okay and you waltzing in and becoming involved in her life with no guarantee of staying in it isn’t fair on her,” you told him, biting your lip nervously, “She needs stability,”
He nodded again, turning his head towards the road before looking at you again. Without really planning it, he rested his free hand on your arm before leaning in to leave a chaste kiss on your cheek, causing your stomach to erupt with nerves and your face to flush.
“I’ll see you around,”
And with that he began to walk away leaving you feeling extremely guilt ridden at the door as you watched him leave. That irritating voice sounded in your head again, yelling at you to tell Ben the truth but you still wouldn’t budge. No matter how much time had passed, your feelings remained for him, feeling yourself start to fall for him all over again.
“Ben?” You called out before he was completely out of sight.
He spun on his heel, turning to you again, the same hopeful expression in his eyes as Molly had shown earlier.
“Come round Monday if you like?” You smiled flatly.
Without giving him time to respond, you backed yourself into the house and closed the door, slightly pleased with yourself. Maybe it was crazy and maybe it would all end in heartbreak but you couldn’t deny that your suppressed feelings for Ben were slowly making their way back to the surface.
You still loved him.