delancey;

selective rp blog for Morris Delancey. (Newsies) tracking dxlancey

[knxckleskissed-deactivated20151]

                      the UGLY TRUTH — as she’s always expected — dawns terribly slowly, sinking onto her stomach in the most CRUELEST of ways as anxiety catches up, tightening the AIRWAY of her throat, robbing all of the oxygens from her lungs. ( & she doesn’t KNOW why she’s surprised. she saw this coming, didn’t she ? from miles away. ) but still — for a MOMENT, melody can’t find it in herself to BREATHE; her chest breaking in a way that’s worse than she’s IMAGINED it to be, and her fingers begin to tremble on the letter, before she clutches it — poor paper crumbling within the SOLIDITY of her nails — and she FORCES out a broken smile.

            she SHAKES her head, feigning reassurances & looks DEJECTEDLY to her laps.

                 ❛  so you’re not the — NO. of course not. right, i saw this coming, didn’t i ? i KNEW this was going to happen, but i still — i mean, i d-don’t know what i was THINKING— ❜  her voice is CRACKING now, visions are getting BLURRIER by the seconds ( but no ! no — she can’t cry. not again. ) but still she attempts a smile at the STRANGER, telling herself — CONVINCING herself — that she’s fine. she’s perfectly, utterly fine.  ❛  obviously i wasn’t and — sorry. i’m just being STUPID. i’m sorry i was bothering you. did i — was i — i mean, DID I bother you ?  ❜

[dxlancey-blog]

     there are too many words all at once, and focusing is HARD. still a pocket knife in his  hand      ( where i s he suppo sed to fin d things here ? to take care of the flowers ? th ey                  need help to grow. need to be ripped   a p a r t   sometimes. it must hurt a  little                  to be so beautiful, as they always, always are. )   FOCUS.     she does not look  alright that girl. she does not look okay. but then it might be a feeling he’s got there,  how  could he be sure.   REMEMBER: people who avoid to look you in the eye might be lying   but if they’re looking down what is it supposed to mean again ? ? ! ?   he forgot he forgot  READING FACES IS SO TOUGH how is he supposed to get what things  mean and the  words, when there’s too many ? there’s too many. th ey get                                      l Os t   upon his mind. was she even bothering him ? he wasn’t doing anything all that important.  he was just trying to stop thinking, or to find a way to think without feeling a w f u l, without  missing HOME ( Oscar, without missing Oscar ) and without feeling so -- there’s no   he  can’t find the word, he’s just not in his place.                                                                  AND WHAT IS HE SUPPOSED TO ANSWER ?    words are too messy and he forgot how to deal with them.  flowers can’t be ripped apart   it might look like he branched off ( maybe he did ? )            unless they need it,   and for   but smiles look pretties than this ? smiles are like               sure some do.      VIOLETS    FLOWERS they’re s w e e t. but they need CARE.                                         and IRISES.

he ends up on his knees again, just for a second, just to get one out there, one that is grown fully one that is ready to go. one that is BEAUTIFUL, only to give it to her.   and he does not bother to get back up. ( it seems more comfortable at this height anyway. ) but it sure is for her and oh, yes, maybe he should say something, that’s what is supposed to be normal. oh, and SMILE. 

                                 ❛ ‘t’s for you  ? ❜

[knxckleskissed-deactivated20151]

SAY YOU’LL REMEMBER ME, STANDING IN A NICE DRESS, STARING AT THE SUNSET BABE, RED LIPS AND ROSY CHEEKS — SAY YOU’LL SEE ME AGAIN, EVEN IF IT’S JUST IN YOUR WILDEST DREAM. | MELODY ; SLIGHT AU DAUGHTER OF ARIEL & ERIC, INDEPENDENT AND HIGHLY SELECTIVE, INSPIRED BY THE UNNAMED PRINCESS IN THE WHEELCHAIR FROM DISNEY’S DESCENDANT (2015).

[toparadiise-archive-blog]

    ❝ what are you doing in my song ? ❞  

                                                                                  ❝ i wrote it ! ❞

[dxlancey-blog]

sleepingbeautiicd:

lovely features TWIST as her head falls back and she slides to the floor, back against the wall. the hallway is dark, and she feels as though there is a monster hiding just out of sight, but she doesn’t really care all that much anymore. she DOUBTS anyone else will care, as well, if anything were to happen to her.

a weak cry pushes past lush lips and her eyes squeeze shut as though it will make her feel less w e a k. she CHOKES on sobs as her body begins to shake, bottom lip quivering, hands trembling. “I just–wanted… to be wanted…”

do things mean the same here as they do back on the isle ? they sure seem different, everything seems different, nothing is as                                                                                 messy                                                                                      colorless                                                                 MEAN. and he’s got nothing to do here, that hallway is not where he should be ( he should be in class ? ) he doesn’t know where he should be. there’s somewhere but he got distracted,  but he  found  that piano   in some  other  room  and  he’s  been NOTHING but MESMERIZED.              he had heard about                                                                  music and instruments                                                                  and he had read but not                                                                  once had he ever seen                                                                  one, not one and he is late but                                                                  discovering th i s o N E th i ng it                                                           it had calmed him down.  just a little.                                                            it was nothing something he knew.                                                     but it was something he D R E A M E D                                                      about.

but the sound he hears in this hallway ( he should  not be here, not now ) it is not  something pretty it is nOt harmonious and it     c o m e s fr o m down - he wants not -   he doesn’t want to  hear any of it not when so pretty sounds exist but there is          s o m e o n e making this sound - these sounds, what is happening oh -  it is tears and words but what are they su p p o s e d to mean ? deep breath. he’s just standing there. what is he supposed to do. and o h - he does not know her. or maybe he does, but he’s as good with faces as he is with wordS.                                                            “ are you o k a y ? ”

the voice is too monotone, doesn’t show worry ( he IS worrying ? if it is bad, if she is not good, why wouldn’t he be worrying, she has never been mean to him, and she IS a person. peopp le should not be sad ? ). and he does not know what to say, what to do here. after all tears could be happy but if she. wanted. to be. wanted. if it’s why she was crying. these tears couldn’t be happy ones. but he still asks, because there is just n o t h i n g else he can do ?

[bunchofrpmemes]

Bold all that apply:

[dxlancey-blog]

bunchofrpmemes:

My muse knows how to…

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive stick | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give CPR | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electric drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump-start a car | roll their tongue | do magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read Morse code | pick a lock

[dxlancey-blog]

                                       the delancey brothers;

[dxlancey-blog]

     someone take him AWAY. someone help him UNDERSTAND. he’s lost lost  lost lost there ‘s t o o m an y words a n d sound an d it won ‘t stop and h is head is turning   he dOE S n ‘ t ge t  i t d OE SN t ‘ get t h e wo r ds and wh y is here and his head  i s bare ly music anymore it’s a mess ( when is it not a mess ? ) there’s so much soun d he  is he’s going to burst and he bursts wi thout a thought.                                                   the wall doesn’t react -- it’s his knuckles that end up bloody                                                  it’s still all too much and he still does not really understand                                                  WHY he’s here, doesn’t understand the words everyone has                                                  repeated. he’s stuck here    ( custody , in custody , W H Y. )                                                  and it’s been hours and all he wants is HOME, even if it is                                                  not really one, even if it has never felt like one, but then he                                                  does not know what a home is supposed to feel like. what is it                                                  that he’s done that’s so wrong ? he’s fought of course   he has                                                  he does too much but he can’t control it has never been    told                                                  just HOW he is supposed to control it and he never starts fights             w h y would he hurt, h u r t, badly why would he be mean to anyone who was not to             him. he was used to blood as a mean to resolve verbal fights he just did not k n ow             how to deal with and he was used to consequences and being hurt and blood on his             hands b ut n o w now he was just lots lots? lOST words, they usually go by too fast             and letters always gets mixed up but he holds onto the sounds, the music his   soul  mak e s bu t today it’s all so messy he can’t even focus, and there’s so much N IO SE   so much of everything he doesn’t know how to react and god, he wipes the blood on his  pants, and the dust from the wall he just punched but wI L L s o  meon e help ? will there  just be someone to calm him ( th ey said he ‘d get a lawyer ? how was he supposed -                                                                                                                               why? ?    t h is whole situation, he doesn’t understand a sound of it and he deals with pain as     he usually does. as he deals with everything. without a word.

             drivenashell​

[dxlancey-blog]

knxckleskissed

           dxlancey started following knxckleskissed

         ❛  i-i am TERRIBLY sorry, but you aren’t by any chance the, um—  ❜ melody FUMBLES with her words, embarrassment flushing her cheeks as she WHEELED herself a bit closer, one hand clasping SHAKILY on the letter. ❛ — the person who wrote me this LETTER and the one who asked me to come here ? m-my, um, my SECRET ADMIRER ?  ❜

          he feels at peace here. these gardens,  ridiculously huge, yes, they           are nothing but amazing.  the flowers are cared for, alive, colorful, so           very different from what he had grown used to growing up. everything           was DEAD, back on the island.  and this place might be weird and so           very unsettling he felt ill most of the time           ( get him back home,  please           but here was good, here had flowers and               people  don’t  make  sense             here  almost felt  like it  could  be  called              anywhere   but at  least  he            HOME. and no one asked   him to make               KNOWS the place, he  has           sure the irises were okay,    yet there he               his  routine  and  he  knows            was, kneeling on the ground, not asking                people, at least a little,  and           anyone for anything, just BREATHING,                there’s  Oscar    and  things            and doing this, life did not seem really                  seem just a little less . . .                                                                  COMPLICATED. 

   he takes a few seconds to realize it’s to him the  girl is talking to.  takes a few seconds    to get up and process her words.  wipes his eyes, only  succeeding at spreading dirt all    over his face. he didn’t send letters  to anyone.      his writing is bad. really,  he doesn’t    know words well-enough to write letters. or even to speak properly. anyone else  might    have shaken their head, but he barely  moves, even as he speaks.  too bad with  words,    too bad at communication overall. that is EXACTLY why, even back on the Isle, people    find him odd. 

                                           ❛ sorry ? ❜

[dxlancey-blog]

&&. need to write up my descendants verse.

[dxlancey-blog]

005

——-) morris is absolutely, ridiculously tall. which is probably the first thing people notice about him, since he kind of happens to tower over everyone, at 1.96m / a little over 6′4 - which is a height he reaches once he’s about twenty, after his last random growth spurt.             he started tiny, as a boy, and actually starting growing pretty late compared to most boys. but a few of these quick growth spurts brought him to ridiculous heights, and he tends to be a little clumsy, a lot, still not used to being so tall. after all, going from 5′2 to 6′4 in the span of five years, with a stop at 6′1 for two years ( 16-17 ) is not exactly easy. growing at once, thinking you’re done when it stops, and six months later, getting ten new centimeters is awfully confusing. especially when he had gotten so used to be the smallest. and he keeps a lot of mannerisms, from back then.

[kovjaku]

[dxlancey-blog]

drivenashell:

❝   it’s a joke, champ. my last name is forrest, like      woods,  ( ‘cept, of course, woods isn’t MY      last name, that’s my girlfriend’s. ) trees. yanno,      my name is trees, i’m a TREE.

                                trees are GREEN, therefore,                                 it’s not EASY being green.  ❞

( it’s no problem explaining it,    but it DOES   take out a little bit of the   HUMOR    away   from the joke. it’s alright, though. emmett’s   just happy to CLEAR things up. though  —   he’s  certainly  got  the     height      to  be   considered a tree by his friends. )

                                                                         ❝   Oh.  ❞      he should have gotten that just how stupid      can he be !!!?  that’s  why he just  can’t be      NORMAL that’s  because  he doesn’t  get      jokes  and  that’s because  he doesn’t  get      people and it’s U n FA I i R.                                               he’s bad with everything,  it seems                                              everything that’s not M U S C I but                                              it’s because it’s always in his mind                                              and words ARE NOT.   and flowers                                              but that’s  because  normal  people                                               just don’t get flowers.       w H Y I s th e On ly t ime h is th oughts m ak e sen se          w hen t he y m a ke  h i ml  fee l  a w f ul ? ? ?        

   at least the tree guy didn’t make fun Of him.     One more second. he’s su p po se d to reply ?

                                                                        ❝   funny. i guess.  ❞                                    

[dxlancey-blog]

neverbesxtisfied:

.:: ✦ ; dxlancey ::.

✦ – ❛ Are you alright there? ❜

                                  there is a voice       he  doesn’t   recognize   it though    ---    then he is not paying much attention       if he  doesn’t recognize it it  can’t            his nose is still bleeding (   possibly       be for him.  people just don’t  pay            broken ).   it HURT s !   it’s pain and       attention to those they don’t know            the sounds in his head aren’t pretty.                                                HE’S USED TO IT.                (    i t’ s  h ow l i fe is ??          painful.       h ow pe ople a r ee? )        he might need to sit down a moment.                 the world is spinning.                                                                                      so he does, on the pavement.          and wipes the blood of with the back of a hand.    he’s not alright, but no one                                                                                      asked HIM. 

[dxlancey-blog]

drivenashell:

❝   ah, ACTUALLY, i kinda am ?  y’know, a tree      is GREEN, i’m a TREE ?   ❞

      you don’t have leaves or thorns. you ain’t       made of wood. and you speak.                                                                           ❝   not a tree.    ❞       i don’t need  to be  able to  properly see       colors to see that.                                                            it’s often that the mess in  his head                                                          does NOT get past his lips. it’s not                                                          even words in his mind.   it’s notes                                                          and images and words  are hard to                                                          process often.        it’s flowers and                                                          KNOWING  quite   well  what   the                                                          characteristics of a tree are.

[dxlancey-blog]

drivenashell:

❝   it’s not EASY being GREEN !   ❞

❝  but you’re not green ? ❞

[dxlancey-blog]

&&. smol note, since i just don’t want people getting confused and all. my morris is solely musical based, and does not take into account certain ‘events’ from the movie. while i do love the movie and its cheesiness with all my heart, and probably have taken into accounts tiny things, my interpretation stays and will probably always stay musical based.

[dxlancey-blog]

danciiingboy:

✗ dxlancey !

                      “ sir… “ 

                         he pauses for a moment, contemplating the next                          thing that he was going to say. 

                      ” you’re really, REALLY tall. “

                     a voice, and it might be speaking to him. he never                      really knows when people are speaking to him. or                      maybe he just  DOES NOT  pay enough attention,                       or any attention.   it doesn’t come from far behind,                      but just a little below,   and bruised fingers almost                      let go of the pot of  ( dying )  flowers he’s carrying.

                 they would have died if he                 it is funny how people always say                  left them here.  so he took                 this, how they  always  think  he’s                  them, even if that  garden                  tall. he’s just his height.  it’s them                  for sure was NOT his.   it                  who are small.  maybe that’s why                  couldn’t be wrong, he just                  they think he’s tall.  but no matter                  wanted to help them.                         how many times he had heard this                                                                             he still has no idea how to answer.                                                                             is it supposed to be MEAN ?     or                                                                             NICE ?    or what is it supposed to                                                                             mean, short.    he knows he could                                                                             touch the  stars more  easily than                                                                             most.          it takes him a few seconds to find words.

                                            “ and you’re ? tiny ?? ”