was there just not a rousing song

Four days later in London, McCartney began cutting the soundtrack for a projected film about the beloved Daily Express children’s character Rupert Bear, to which he owned the rights. Among the tunes recorded were ‘Rupert Song (Parts 1 and 2)’, ‘Tippi Tippi Toes’ and ‘The Castle Of The King Of The Birds’. A thirty-eight-piece orchestra and a boys’ choir joined Paul to lay down both vocal and humming versions of the rousing ‘We All Stand Together’, which would be a British hit some four years later.

McCartney was sipping a Scotch and Coke when the young choristers filed out, in a reflective mood; the song had moved him. Around midnight, a Cinderella moment in the empty studio when the gear was being stowed, he turned to Linda and one or two friends and told them that it reminded him of the famously trippy session for ‘All You Need Is Love. ‘It was that same vibe. I just looked around, and there were all these flowers and happy faces smiling up at me.’ Another sip or two, and he began murmuring huskily, ‘John… John…’ And Paul bent over chuckling, as though it had been yesterday rather than thirteen years before.

—  Christopher Sandford, McCartney. (2005)
We Only Want to Sing You to Sleep - Joji Miller Imagine

Joji slips in the door, greeted with nothing but a dimly-lit living room and the sounds of song that he knows all too well- something he wrote and recorded a few weeks back, a special demo just for you.

He tiptoes over to the couch after he notices you lying there, dead to the world with your phone clasped loosely in your grip. Joji smiles to himself, more than a little excited by the fact that you liked his song enough play it while you waited for him to come home. He bends down quietly, kissing your temple and turning off the speaker on the coffee table almost in the same movement. You shift slightly, tucking further into the couch, but he just pets your hair to soothe you before slipping both arms underneath your body.

The feeling of being picked up and carried rouses you, and you groggily ask what’s going on, still nearly completely asleep at this point. Joji just shushes you softly. “Nothing, baby,” he says, smiling to himself as you cling to him with all of the air of a little child. “Nothing at all.”

21 Reasons Why (I Love You) [Part 1]: An HLWILY Series Extra & Harry's Birthday Special

A/N: I have class in the morning, so I unfortunately can’t stay up any longer. So, Harry’s birthday special needed to be split in two. Here’s the first piece, and the second piece will be up after 4pm PST. My homework took a bit more time than expected. :(( I hope you enjoy this piece and are ready for some sexy time later today! I’m writing something I’ve never written them doing before! Sorry for the wait. Homework is blah, I know. Thank you for being patient. Also, I know I’ve used this gif before, but it’s too good to pass up! 

+past one shots

Visuals/songs will be in the next piece. I apologize again for the split, but I have so many ideas for this one, that I’ve just going and going! 

“I was having a dream about you.” Is the first thing you hear him mumble as he rouses from sleep, squeezing your arms tighter around him and curling up in a as little a ball as nearly six feet of man can be. Fully taking advantage of his little spoon status.

You smile into his shoulder, doting a few kisses along his skin as you wake up too. Feeling the bones under your lips.

“Were you, now?” you hum, nuzzling his skin. “The naughty kind?”

You feel his laugh before you hear it. Sinking into your chest from his back. If sleep had a smell, it would be what was laced across Harry’s skin. Stale laundry soap, leftover cologne, Los Angeles warm, little bit of booze.

“Nooo,” he drawls, his voice still liquor rough from last night’s, ‘I’m 21 in America’ escapades. “Not the naughty kind.”

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Enjolras in the original UK stage show is my #1 dream role because:

  • he’s a strong leader
  • he gets to spend several songs really annoyed at marius
    • guys I am REALLY good at being annoyed with people
  • HIS EVERY ENTRANCE ON STAGE IS EITHER A POWER POSE OR ENDS IN A POWER POSE
  • when he starts singing, people join him
    • that’s right, MOTHERFUCKING ENJOLRAS dictates when the giant rousing group number begins, no one else
  • when he’s talking, people sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up
  • HE GETS TO RIDE AROUND IN A CART (and POWER POSE) PULLED BY HIS FRIEND WHO WAS SO INSPIRED BY HIS WORDS THAT HE JUST FORGOT ABOUT THE WHOLE EQUALITY THING AND HOW MAYBE PULLING YOUR LEADER AROUND IN A HANDCART ISN’T THE MOST SUPER EQUAL THING OUT THERE

and last but not least, let’s face it I would rock the fuck out of that whole costume

Prompt request: “Thunderstorm, stubbed toe, and candle” from this list.

Pairing: Reader x Steve Rogers

A/N: I’m open to requests again!  Feel free to send me your own prompt, a song prompt, or one from a drabble list! Also, let me know if you guys like insert stories where the narrative is “you did this” or if it’s “Y/N did this.”

The sky crackled and growled in the night, rattling the building and rousing you from your sleep. Your eyes fluttered open just in time to see a flash of bright lightning rip across the clouds and paint them dull hues of gray and purple. Rain battered the open window and leaked through crack, and you jumped out of bed to close it. Tony wouldn’t be too happy if he had to replace the carpet in your room just because Steve liked to sleep with the windows open.  

           You shut the latch, but left the curtains open. The rain and lightning weren’t all that unpleasant, and you didn’t think you would be getting any more sleep tonight anyway. Stress-induced nightmares usually did that to a person.

           “It’s really coming down out there,” Steve mumbled, voice thick with sleep. He groggily reached his hand out tried to turn on the lamp, but the power was out. “You think we should see if anyone needs help?”

           You looked over at him through the dark light emitting from the window, and smiled. He lay half-asleep on the bed, his strong limbs sprawled across your side of the mattress. His blonde hair was tousled in all directions and his eyes were closed, but his lips were parted as if he were speaking. There was no way he knew just how adorable he could be.

           “It’s a thunderstorm, not a hurricane. Go back to sleep, baby,” you whispered.  

           “Yes, ma’am,” he gave you a lazy, lopsided grin. “Power’s out, and we’re out of candles. Be careful on your way back to bed,” he yawned before turning over. He was snoring within seconds.

           It’s not even that dark, you thought, how could I possibly hurt- “FUCK!” You screamed as a loud boom of thunder rang out. You jumped forwards and stumbled into the dresser, stubbing your big toe and shin on the wood.  “Jesus- FUCK! GODAMNIT!”

           Steve startled in bed and looked around, brows furrowed.  He saw you doubled over on the floor and sighed. “I told you-”

           “If you say another word you’re sleeping on the couch,” you groaned and pointed to the door.

           “-to be careful.”

           “Out.”