#Anyway have a poem :D It's been a time since I posted one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

campgender · 2 months

Note

i was scrolling your “life is in your home too” tag, which I love btw, and saw a post about how you learned to be a good dom from experienced expert doms by reading how they dom and some of their best scenes, do you think you could point me in the direction of some resources for me to study that too? thanks in advance, if not, thanks anyway!

(post referenced is here - link 1)

first of all tysm for this ask (+ your incredibly kind follow-up), it was a delight to receive + i’ve been wanting an excuse to talk about a lot of this for a while so i very much appreciate the interest!

as always please keep in mind that i am Just Some Fem, nothing is universal including when it comes to D/s & i can only speak to what works for me. i try to focus on starting points rather than specifics but ultimately my advice will always be limited by what i needed to hear & wasn’t told, which may not be what’s helpful for a different person. with that being said, here’s some suggestions!

i’ve posted a previous reading list (link 2) with relevant recs; particularly the practicality + sex writing sections have the kind of thing you’re looking for. specifically, The New Topping Book (2003) is a solid starting point; i definitely have my issues with it (haven’t read it recently enough to recall many specifics but i have the sense of general pervasive racism & ableism) but it did a good job at making me think & i appreciate the supportive tone they were going for

another book added to my tbr since then is Coming to Power (link 3), released by SAMOIS in 1983

other authors whose sex writing has been influential in my life: Sandra Cisneros, Natalie Diaz, Joan Nestle, Judy Grahn

the fic At The End of His Rope by Letterblade (link 4) is genuinely some of my favorite sex writing of all time & accomplishes the incredibly impressive feat of representing a broad array of dom styles & changes over time in the same piece

my “impurity culture” tag (link 5) houses the building blocks of my sexual ethic

i’ve found many of those foundations by poking around the incredible bodies of work original & archived @newsmutproject @woman-loving @gatheringbones

for me, studying sex is the same as studying poetry – reading for craft is a different process than for pleasure (not that there isn’t a great deal of pleasure to be found in such practice, especially for sadists – perhaps that’s why as a child i never resonated with Billy Collins’ “Introduction to Poetry,” like i love tying poems to chairs & beating them idk what to tell you). so, keeping in mind that these are suggestions not requirements, here’s how i read for + work on craft:

there is no such thing as too much journaling. this can take whatever form you prefer – voice memo, discord message to yourself, the noble notes app, your own personal sexy red string corkboard, a vast & stunning array of other approaches i can’t even begin to imagine. i personally have an elaborate web of spreadsheets & google docs lmao. what matters is developing a collection of ideas you want to play with + a practice of continually reflecting on past experiences.

pay attention to structure, not just content. find a scene you think is disjointed and pick at the seams, brainstorm better transitions. then find a scene that flows so smoothly it carries you with it and figure out what makes it work.

rewrite a scene you’re drawn to or affected by to suit your own preferences. i first did this when i couldn’t shake “Interlude 3” (link 6) from my head after reading The New Topping Book; you can read my variation on the theme here (link 7) if you’re interested.

write or think through a scene fantasy you have from negotiation to aftercare. obviously it’s very difficult if not impossible to fully script a scene in advance; the purpose isn’t planning something you’ll later do but rather getting used to coming up with ideas to get from one disparate moment / act to the next.

revisit a scene you’ve read, written, thought about, etc and list the physical & mental acts that are required / expected of the sub (eg, kneeling for 10 minutes; making eye contact; counting to 30, etc). then rework the scene for a sub who has the same interests & goals who cannot do 20% (or 50%, or any) of these acts.

revisit a previous scene and list the places where you think a sub might safeword & why. then rework it with the sub safewording somewhere that isn’t any of these places.

i also recommend keeping in mind that like… for me, reading about ethical sex can often be a very distressing process for the same reason that it’s liberating: because it proves that things i’ve experienced are not the way sex has to be. i’ll tell this story in its fullness one day but the first time i read S/HE by Minnie Bruce Pratt i literally had a flashback to events i’d repressed for years, it was devastating, i’m so grateful for it. hell, in the process of compiling resources for this post i cried twice editing this quote (link 8) because between reading that book the first time & now someone did “respond with scorn or ridicule” when i safeworded. so i would really encourage folks to approach this kind of work with as much grace & comfort for yourself as you can muster or borrow – if it’s really fucking hard, you’re not alone in that, & it’s okay to take your time + pace yourself + seek support.

your + others’ interest is definitely motivating me to actually write posts i’ve been tossing around for months so thank you again & feel free to keep an eye out for more shut-in sex tips in my new “tomorrow sexting will be good again” tag. would love to hear your thoughts on any of this post / these or other books / whatever really lol. wishing you all the best & i hope today is kind to you! 💓

#asks #D/s #reading lists #mac.txt #tomorrow sexting will be good again

57 notes · View notes

dmc-brainrot · 6 months

Note

i loved the yamato! reader fic! please continue it! also here is a real question! how do you think the yamato would look as a human?

Eternally Soul Bonded (part 2)

Vergil (DMC5) x Yamato! reader

warnings: reader is a humanoid version of Yamato, reader is also a bit obssessed with Vergil (mild yandere behaviour that seems to be growing), a bit of angst, fluff, mild smut, strangling, things get a bit heavy

summary: after a whole year of you two being together, there seems to be a huge wall separating you two… and you intend to break it by force, no matter what.

word count: 2k

a.n: hi again! thank you so much for the feedback :D! Here's part 2 of the fic!! I posted a small doodle I made about my own interpretation of a personification of Yamato on my blog! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, I'll probably make a part 3 of this since I'm having fun, and things are getting steamy~ thank you again for your support and my ask box is always open! o/

After what happened between you and Vergil, it seemed the two of you had gotten closer.

It was still unexplainable however, how you had come to exist in the world… as a personification of Yamato, and more. Ever since you had woken up in that body, you felt as if you were no longer simply “Vergil’s sword”, but also a person of your own.

It had been an entire year by now… that you two had been together in this old raggedy apartment. In the beginning, Vergil was training you hard to unlock every potential within you as his sword, ever since you unlocked his Devil Trigger. But, things were different… it felt as if your potential was permanently locked within that body you woke up as.

Training wasn’t the concern now. It wasn’t about whether you still had the potential of Yamato within you or not. It wasn’t about whether Vergil believed you were in fact the sword he’d been looking for the past 20 years. No, the problem was completely different. It was about your connection as one.

It was if… Vergil didn’t know anything about the emotions he was able to feel, because all this time, he had buried those deep inside for the sake of his hunt for power.

After the episode where he broke down crying from the first time, you were expecting, maybe even hoping that you two would grow closer again, that it meant something, and that it’d make a difference.

But it took a completely opposite effect.

Vergil… refused to talk about emotions or his feelings with you after that day. And that’s how the remaining of the year went by.

Obviously you wouldn’t let that be your reality. After all, you had just gotten him back.

…

Vergil was in his room reading when you approached the entrance. It seemed now that things had settled, he was trying to partake in more hobbies other than fighting. He had always enjoyed reading, and there was even a time where he wrote poems, although you weren’t sure if he did that anymore.

He seemed to completely ignore your presence, up until you sat down on the edge of the bed with him. Only then he looked at you.

“What do you want?” He asked in that nasally annoyed tone he always had.

“What are you reading?” You asked, ignoring his cold tone. You were used to it anyway.

“Human fiction is pretty fascinating to me, I’m reading some stories about Norse Myths”

“Do you think those kinds of things are real?”

“What things?”

Great, you two were having an actual conversation. This is how things were supposed to go to begin with.

“Gods, and all sorts of things. We’ve only had to deal with demons and demon Lords… and wannabe angels…” You spoke, leaning against his arm to take a better look at the book he read. “…But do you really think… there is such a thing, as multiple gods… that live up there in the sky?”

Vergil was silent for a moment… you could tell he was tense and uncomfortable, probably because you were so close to him.

“I don’t care about gods in the sky. These are merely myths created by the feeble and limited human mind because their existence is so insignificant in comparison to their surroundings, they feel the need to believe in something greater to be responsible for them.” He spoke even more coldly, closing the book he held. “…Now, what do you want…?”

“…I just wanted to see what you were doing.” You whispered, looking back at him. “…I think… you’re right about that. About gods… and humans.”

“…” Vergil sighed, almost in defeat, opening the book again and continuing his reading. “Do you want me to tell you more?”

Your eyes sparkled with the idea, looking up at him as if he had just offered you salvation.

“Yes…please…”

You ended up falling asleep for a brief moment after a while of Vergil reading to you. But, you could still hear his voice vaguely in the distance.

“…You present yourself as a human, you act and feel like a human, you even have needs like a human…” his raspy and quiet voice echoed in the walls of your mind. “…at first… I thought it was just an elaborated gimmick… to protect yourself against me using your full capabilities…”

“…You… are just like V… so maybe that means… the real Yamato is somewhere out there for me to find… and all I have to do is to merge you two together.”

Oh.

Of course.

He still… wanted just his sword.

You were foolish to think… after a whole year, your relationship was anything more than that.

“…What did you say, Vergil?” You shot your eyes open. They were dark and unforgiving, the light behind them was gone, just in that time where you punctured his heart. There was a coldness and lack of humanity behind your voice, as your bloodlust filled eyes stared right at the man who was tucking you in on the bed.

Vergil seemed surprised as you stared at him, his hands still holding onto the blanket he was using to tuck you in. He froze in place.

“…I’m just… an incomplete half, you say?” You continued, unblinking. “…That, you’re holding onto me just to find the ‘other half’, you say?”

You didn’t move from your spot.

“…So I can go back… to being just your sword… who can’t speak, or feel, right?”

Vergil didn’t move either.

“…I’m not like V.” The room had then filled with an unspeakable amount of despair. “…Do I have to keep proving myself, time and time again for you to understand?”

You sat up finally, holding onto Vergil’s hands and squeezing his wrists tightly so he wouldn’t leave your grasp.

“…Are you that miserable and pathetic without a sword to wield? Do you really only see me as a tool to use and regain power? I have bad news for you Vergil… son of Sparda…” You said as you pulled him closer.

“…You have no control… over the things that happen in your life.” You stared right at his icy blue eyes, eyes that at this moment were still widened in shock. “…You had no control over being trapped in Hell, or becoming some other devil’s puppet knight, or even when Nero was born and absorbed me into him. You were never behind anything, and when you were, you had to split yourself into two to even be able to achieve something.”

“…You’re nothing without the circumstances that present themselves to you. And at the end of the day, even if you do win… Dante never loses, does he? Isn’t that what pisses you off the most?”

“…Stop talking.” Vergil spoke through gritted teeth. “You think talking about my weaknesses will make me cry again like last time? Please. You really are a one-trick pony, aren’t you?”

“I’m not done talking.” You squeezed his wrists again.

“…I know every bit of emotion you feel inside your heart. The anger and jealousy, the envy, the frustration, the pain, the grief, everything. You’re sick and tired of Dante getting his way for everything, that you’re always in the shadows, that he’s always winning and you’re always losing.” You spoke through gritted teeth. “Wondering time and time again if your positions were switched… if you could’ve had a different outcome.”

Vergil’s eyes widened at your words again, you knew he could come out of your grasp at any time, but he chose not to.

“…And you think… that if you have your sword, you’ll try… countless…. and countless of times… to achieve that different outcome.”

“…Why are you… even alive right now, Vergil?”

Vergil let himself go from your grasp. He placed his hands beside you on the bed, and bowed his head for a moment.

“…I see.”

“…You’re saying… I don’t need a sword by my side to get a different outcome?” He smiled a little, before finally looking at you with a gaze you’ve never seen on his face before. “Then… I don’t need you, is that right?”

Before you knew it, his hands were on your throat.

And he started strangling you.

But you weren’t scared. You knew he needed this to overcome his weaknesses.

So you smiled.

“…I really… do love you, Vergil” You spoke with a smile as he strangled you, your eyes filling with small tears as he did, but you couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t stop smiling.

It was like it had awakened something in him. Not a new power, or ability, or even a new form.

But a new feeling.

Those hands that strangled you, had let go of your neck, to hold onto something else.

And the man who was just now strangling you like he wanted to kill you, was now… using his lips to kiss you.

It was weird, because you had never kissed anyone before, but it felt almost natural to do this, so you kissed him back.

You would never know what clicked inside Vergil’s head for him to do this, you would never know that he was practically seeing a reflection of himself in you. A sword that reminded its master of his weaknesses that needed to be purified. A reminder of why he’s alive. Why he needs to be more powerful.

And oddly enough, that really… aroused him beyond comprehension. It was what motivated him to keep going.

His kisses were rough and sloppy, but it wasn’t much of a problem since you were too. He held your cheeks just as strongly as he did your neck seconds ago, and you were locked in place.

He seemed absolutely desperate. Either it was for affection, or for human touch, or if it was because he wanted to feel powerful again. Maybe all of the above.

But you on the other hand… the amount of pleasure you were getting from his desperation was more than anything you could possibly dream on.

He was yours.

And you were his.

And he was yours, forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever… until the ends of time, and there was nothing he could do to get rid of you anymore.

“…Take off your clothes, Vergil…”

“Show me… how much you crave power.”

After a year of coldness and barely anything between you, you had finally done it. You had finally broken him.

You had him, right where you wanted him to.

And with the two of you as one, finally there was absolutely nothing that would get in your way again. Because, after all…

You were the strongest.

“Take it off, Vergil… Let’s… become one.” You smirked, offering your arms for him.

He stared down at you for a moment longer, as if he had been presented with a choice he couldn’t back away from.

And so he made his choice.

He took off his shirt, exposing his toned form, and slowly began to unbuckle his pants.

There was no turning back now… he was finally becoming one with the one person that would always be the only one for him eternally so.

He leaned down, kissing you again, this time rougher, and even more desperate. He moved his hands to your legs, lifting them up and making sure they were wrapped around his form, locking you in.

You wrapped your arms around him, and you could feel the warmth his crazed desperation was emanating… and despite never having done this before you incorporated in this body, it all felt natural to you, like before.

This would be a very… long night.

#dmc5 #oc x canon #canon x reader #devil may cry #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil x reader #vergil fanfiction #vergil #dmc vergil #vergil devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #dmc v #fanfic ask

76 notes · View notes

e-adlirez · 1 month

Text

Thea Stilton Treasure Seekers Review/Ramble

Behold, an impulsive ramble about a possibly-obscure trilogy that's been translated to English during quarantine-ish, adding to the obscurity.

So the Treasure Seekers, huh? :3

Coming out a little prior but more or less over the course of quarantine and thus a lot of people not having ready access to it, the Treasure Seekers is what turned out to be a trilogy of what it says on the tin: the girls hunting down cool treasures as a result of going down the world's biggest and highest-stakes scavenger hunt written a hundred-ish years prior to the present time.

Gonna be giving MAJOR spoilers for the first book in the trilogy, and there'll (probably) be one post per book in the trilogy. If you haven't read the book, here's a copy on the Internet Archive you can read before skipping ahead to the review, enjoy, it's pretty good. If you've already read the book or don't care about spoilers, please proceed below the cut :3

The story begins with the girls on summer vacation in Scotland. Shenanigans get started when they meet this old hermit woman who has in her house a mysterious heirloom tapestry with a mysterious poem on it.

The tapestry has this poem that talks about a place with sweet winds, petals that will lead you to something beneath them, something about midnight and birds, and an alabaster garden created for the "jewel of the palace" (like me to you), that is guarded by a friend with deep feet. Sounds like a whole lotta cryptic shnit the theory heads would enjoy :D

Anyway so the girls go visit Beitris (the hermit woman) the next day to return something they borrowed from her only to walk into a holdup :D

Said holdup-ers are these two grunts led by this mysterious lady hiding her identity under a black fedora and thick-framed Ray Bans. The girls deal with that situation real quick and get the guys to scarper (if you're wondering how they did that, "the police are coming"), and once it all blows over, they find that the thugs only stole the tapestry despite ransacking the entire place like raccoons. Such a realization leads to a revelation on Beitris's end, so she entrusts the girls with the tapestry's backstory in a segment I will describe as LAAANNNEEEE LOOOORRRREEEEEE (said in a MatPat voice, we'll miss you king :'])

The tapestry was a family heirloom passed down to Beitris by her grandmother Petra, who got it from her older sister Aurora Beatrix Lane, who is basically British Amelia Earhart. Wasn't into girly shnit, liked being outside and also archaeology, studied in the University of Cambridge as an Archaeology major and learned how to fly a plane, all while punting early 1900s gender norms into oblivion with her pants and motorcycle. Motorcycle queen, plane queen, archaeology queen, but then everything changed when this British Amelia Earhart did a British Amelia Earhart.

The context behind Aurora Beatrix Lane's disappearance is something relating to her work with her mentor Jan Von Klawitz, who was doing archaeology things with her and probably got up to some wild shnit, but we would never know because Aurora is very secretive about her plans and her destinations, and she only came home to the UK once, after her first trip, and that was when she gave smol child Petra the tapestry to guard because it led to "a very precious treasure", but she can't show it yet for the time being. The vibe was Aurora was planning on using the tapestry to show the treasure it hides once she's done with her archaeology shenanigans.

But then she did an Amelia Earhart but completely untraceable since she never revealed her destinations, so uh there's that :D

Back to the present, this little storytime from Beitris has gotten the girls sucked into a rabbit hole. They are now hyperfixated like nobody's business and this Aurora Beatrix Lane is JUST LIKE THEM FR, and as a result they decide that y'know what they still have a few days before classes in Mouseford starts, and while they're at it, they're gonna find Beitris's tapestry and maaayyyybeeee find the alabaster garden. First destination: Girton College at the University of Cambridge, Aurora Beatrix Lane's alma mater.

The girls take a quick jaunt to Girton by train and then by bus to have a lil' chat with the dean, who reveals to them that they're looking for the central archive if they're gonna be looking for the deets on a student from a hundred years ago, but uh the archive is closed for the day, please come tomorrow. (Wonder why, maybe it's because they rode from Scotland to Girton by train which takes a shnitload of time. /nsrs but fr tho I wonder if the original Italian had them drive over there by car-- they did rent an SUV, and going by car would be way faster, like it'll only take a seven-hour drive faster) They come back the next day, are let into the archives, and oop, they find a well-preserved diary with Aurora's initials hidden in the Stanley Library.

Y'know what that means, LANE LOOORRRREEEEE

So two months into her accompanying Jan on his excavations, she notes that Jan's been acting a bit sus lately-- being very nervous, being extremely protective over his luggage, being weird about hiding some of the relics he's found, and also a weird-ass incident where while exploring a small village's old castle, Aurora found a hidden chamber with a tome inside that Jan immediately snatched and was like "I'll take care of it don't worry, don't worry about the protocol stuff I'll be fine I'll take care of it". And then he went back to "normal" after that. Hmmmm.

A month later, while Jan was talking with one of his collaborators on their train to England, Aurora stumbled into the tome again, suspiciously in Jan's personal luggage instead of being properly archived and catalogued like it should've been. She read it, saw a thing about the Seven Treasures of the World, and that caused her protagonist genes to kick in since now she's now very tempted to look into finding them and showing them to the world.

After that, she went to some libraries to investigate and eventually decided to confront Jan about the whole treasures thing and his first reaction was he was pissed, calling Aurora a snoop and everything poking into his things. Then after calming down he said "just pretend to not see", but oh no, dear reader, Aurora was not gonna pretend to not see. She ain't gonna pretend to not see the fact that her mentor was actually a treasure hunter and collector who'd been using his occupation as an excuse to snatch some nifty treasures and keep them to himself like every European country who's stolen artifacts from Asian countries ever, ohohohooooo noooo, she's gonna do something about it.

The girls scuttle on over back to Scotland and Beitris, to find that uh oh dear, the thugs came back again and this time they were asking about the girls specifically. Beitris pulled the same trick the girls pulled to get them to leave. So NOW the thugs are looking for the girls for whatever reason and wanna know their deal. Anyway, the girls show Beitris Aurora's diary, tell her about the summary, and also that unfortunately some of the pages are missing, and the diary doesn't say shnit about the tapestry so far. Beitris helps by giving them a letter that Aurora sent to Petra about the tapestry and its treasure, but interestingly mentions that she should "only trust Robert".

Since I haven't mentioned him before, Robert Neville was Aurora's flight tutor, a flying medic, and was toootttallllyyyyy just friends with Aurora you guys they were totally just frie--

He is dead in the present time, but his nephew John Neville is a (former) lighthouse keeper for the Ar-Men lighthouse in the IÎe de Sein, Brittany, France. So the girls head on over there, land in France, insert a thing where Vi feels like she's being watched but is like "maybe it's just a me thing, I dunno".

They head over to the Île de Sein, find an old man who turns out to be John, are invited to his house, tell him about their situation, and John mentions that he himself has been researching like crazy too about Aurora ever since hers and Jan's simultaneous disappearance over the same place at the same time in the same terrible storm. And also the fact that Robert was totally devastated when he got the news and spent years looking for her. He gives them his notes that he's accumulated over decades of researching in his pastime (which amounts to just Aurora's trip to Mexico), and tells them that since Aurora was looking for seven treasures, they'll need to find out where her seven trips took place, which will not be easy because Aurora was extremely secretive, and she only made her first trip even remotely public.

First place is Mexico so might as well head on over-- oh god the holdup-ers are back to holdup.

The thugs snatch Aurora's diary and book it before the girls can do much besides get an impromptu ocean bath, and oh dear, the thugs' boss has them now, and it's not the mafia cosplayer lookin' woman. But that's something I'll address later :3

Nonetheless, they carry on since the thugs never stole John's notebook, and they use it to go to the Puuc Route in Mérida, Yucatán (sounds very specific until you realize that Mérida is the capital of the Yucatán, and one thing everyone and their mother knows about the Mayan ruins there like Chichen Itza) to find more clues.

They do some more research on the Puuc Route, find some clues about "an invisible place, guarded by the chattiest of creatures", discover that it means they have to go to Uxmal, get a dub against the unfortunately acrophobic thugs, and realize that yes, Aurora did in fact sneak another one of her diaries in there.

This one doesn't have as much Lane Lore to contribute besides a clue that the girls find leads to Kannauj, Uttar Pradesh, India, a city known for its perfumes :3 sounds like "sweet winds", doesn't it? Oh and there's also something about a place with two lakes, which turns out to be Lakh Bahosi, a bird sanctuary about an hour's drive away from Kannauj. The girls head on over and try to do some investigating, but it doesn't take them that long to find a pair of grunts struggling under the weight of a very familiar tapestry while their boss was struggling to supervise them with her heels constantly digging into bird sanctuary dirt.

Anyway so the girls concoct a little scheme to steal the tapestry and the thugs fall for it like fish for a fishing lure, and they managed to scatter with the tapestry. After getting to a private space in the sanctuary, they find a clue that leads them to a set of coordinates that they find is a beeg tree. Oh and the treasure seems to be a present that was made for someone close to Mumtaz Mahal, as in "the jewel of the palace", the woman the Taj Mahal was made for; and the tapestry has a set of coordinates that is leading them to a beeg tree, with deep roots/feet. Oh hell yeah it's all comin' together.

They get to the tree, deal with the mafia lady for a little bit, find the treasure, and it turns out it's a very exquisite perfume bottle made of alabaster called "The Perfume of the Earth". They find a little note from Aurora explaining the treasure and its value and the significance of finding it, and now the girls have found the treasure Aurora had been searching for, and now's the time for a villain reveal?

So I haven't talked about him yet and have glossed over this guy for the entire ramble. See the mafia lady, Cassidy? Yeah she's not the big boss here. It's this guy who has a whole secret base in Denali National Park, Alaska, and has been overseeing everything behind the scenes. And by everything, I mean everything: He was alerted to the whole thing with Cassidy's first raid of Beitris's house, found out about the girls' involvement, and for a good half of the book, was trying to figure out what the girls' motives are for interfering with his line of work and what they might know about this whole thing he's looking for, which is the alabaster garden.

This guy has been keeping tabs on the girls through Cassidy and her thugs, who've been stalking the girls ever since France. He and Cassidy figured out in Paris that the girls are Mouseford students on vacation, and he was the one who gave the orders to snatch the journal from there. He was the one who told the goons to tail them to Mexico, and he was the one who managed to look up the girls' names, backgrounds, reasons for being in Scotland, all from the comfort of his base in Alaska. And only then, only then did he go to India himself to supervise and put a cap to his goons' buffoonery.

Who is this guy? Well, he is a treasure hunter who just wants to enjoy the treasures Aurora Beatrix Lane has hidden from his great-grandfather a hundred years ago. That's right, meet Luke Von Klawitz, the current heir to the Klawitz legacy and the treasure trove Jan Von Klawitz left behind in spite of his disappearance. Unfortunately Jan was better (and old enough) to secure a family legacy of greedy artifact hoarding.

So while the girls were in Lakh Bahosi, Luke was too with the goons and Cassidy (who is not his right-hand man and more just... a subordinate trying too hard to impress him), being the babysitter with these guys on leashes, as he tries to keep their stupidity under control. He intercepts the girls as they're about to leave Lakh Bahosi, blocking their path, and asks about the alabaster garden. The girls obviously don't spill and prolly would've gotten themselves blackbagged and interrogated had a friend they made prior to Lakh Bahosi not shown up in her dad's truck and came in clutch. (It sounds cliche and like it came out of nowhere but trust me it makes sense in-universe-- after the girls left the friend's family restaurant that they were hanging at, Luke's goons came over to interrogate them about the girls and where they went. Subtlety, who is she?)

The girls bring the perfume to a nearby university so it can be brought to a museum, send the tapestry back to Beitris, and return home to Whale Island, to read the last bits of Aurora's second journal and presumably to

So that's the book :D I put in a LOT of spoilers, but I'd say that reading the book is still worth it because you'll be able to get the connecting tissues that tie the organs of this story together. H-hopefully this all made sense . .'''

First things first, if you're not used to how Scholastic kids' novels are written, then uh, you might wanna get used to it, because the English translation of Thea Stilton is very... that. It's not beating the kids' book allegations in English, unfortunately. On the brighter side, though, it's pretty good for Scholastic standards! The pacing's very fast, but it feels about right-- gives me the same energy as diving deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole and going to all sorts of places because of the hyperfixation responsible for consuming their sanity for all of a week or so. The dialogue isn't nearly as atrocious as the worst it's capable of being (oh trust me we'll get to that). The tapestry puzzle and how the girls work towards solving it is very coherent and logical for the situation they are in at the beginning, and it's very satisfying to see everything come together and for things to slowly make more and more sense in the poem despite it being as vague and puzzle box-y as it was.

The Lane family lore is very well-thought-out, and Aurora Beatrix Lane is the perfect spiritual predecessor to the girls, what with her love for adventure, love for travel, strong moral compass, and the strong compulsion to elbow drop every single feminine social rule under the sun. I can totally buy her being someone the girls would totally hyperfixate on researching, because she feels like that kind of compelling character-- a passionate young archaeologist who decided to put her own safety on the line for the sake of what she believed in and to dunk on Klawitz and his selfish (and very illegal) goals of hoarding the treasures of the world to himself.

As for the villain, I'll be real gamers, Luke Von Klawitz is probably the most intimidating if not terrifying villain in the entire franchise. He has drones spying on every corner of the world for him, he has goons he can contact at any time and have them do his bidding (to mixed results it seems), he has cutting-edge technology that he uses for terrifying means, all in the safety and comfort of his secret underground base in Alaska where he has his little basement filled to the brim with historical artifacts he's kept all to himself to enjoy. Lemme run this through you again:

He was able to learn the girls names, the university they're studying in, and why they were in Scotland in the first place, all without ever meeting them face-to-face or having his goons interrogate them directly. All he needed to learn all of this was the (not very helpful) research by Cassidy, and a few commands put into his world-connected supercomputer.

Are you intimidated yet? I sure hope you are :D this guy's got a lotta potential is what I'm saying. He's a bit of a brat who wants what he wants and wants it immediately, but he's also a bit of a chess master who looks over things in the background while his minions do all the work for him. Really the only thing holding him back is the incompetency of his goons, and technically it's not even that they're very stupid-- Cassidy and her grunts Stan and Max are very good at swooping in out of nowhere to wreak havoc, dip in and get out before anyone can do anything about it. They're decent if not good at the job they're usually assigned: low-level grunt work. Unfortunately they're not good at much else, which drove Luke insane this entire book, haha.

The girls' dynamic with Cassidy, Stan and Max was refreshing in the sense that the girls aren't always getting punted by them, and the goons aren't always taking Ls just from physical contact with the girls. Cassidy and the goons always had the element of surprise on their side, being able to show up out of nowhere and do their thing before the girls have time to even blink; but once the girls figured out their whole shtick, it was easy to learn that they are easily outclass-able by five mouse Oxford students in braincell count and thus act accordingly. They force the girls to think fast and come up with some snappy plans on the spot, and the girls force Luke to realize he hired Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum, and Tweedle Dummy as goons :D

Now uh, I have been complimenting this thing the entire time, but there is one little thing I have an issue within this book, and that is the whole... Power of Friendship thing they've got going on throughout the book.

Yes, unfortunately, the Friendship Curse has claimed this hardcover series too, and while it's not the worst here, it's still... it's still a bit atrocious :D

For instance, the conclusion Cassidy and Luke come to for the girls' reasons for interference is "friendship". Literally, Cassidy literally says to Luke, "It seems they did it out of friendship, Sir", and then Luke responds with an evil cackle and is like "FRIENDSHIP? THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP DOESN'T EXIST IN THIS WORLD! AIN'T NO WAAAAYYYYY THEY'RE NOT FIVE SCHEMERS WHO WANNA GET THE TREASURES THEMSELVES", which is like... I don't get that vibe from Luke anywhere else in the book? Luke values efficiency and getting what he wants-- he's not hired Cassidy to be all buddy-buddy with her, he hired her for a job and she has to work to fulfill said job. He just wants competent employees, and y'know what, that's valid. Not a single part in that have I seen "ew power of friendship". It's very villain for the sake of villainy kind of energy, which I don't think fits Luke with the other bits of information we get of him? He's following his great-granddad's footsteps-- not a single minute of that did that mean "the spirit of friendship doesn't exist get yo head outa the cotton candy"

Then there's... how this applies to the girls.

inhales

WHY DID THEY MAKE VIOLET THE GROUP'S FRIENDSHIP PROPHET GRAAAAHHHH

I probably would make a full-blown rant about this at some point, but one thing I never liked about any of the hardcovers was how Violet of all people is the group's assigned friendship prophet. She'd occasionally make a comment about how uh something something the power of love is the strongest of all, and every single time I don't like it :D

Sure fine you can chalk it up to character development since her early months in Mouseford, but in the earlier books it's heavily established that she's the pragmatic one, the braincell keeper, the one who keeps the girls' group ADHD on track or the one who reminds them that "hey we've been at this for a really long time and it's now 2AM, we should really turn in now". Being a friendship prophet is a Colette thing, not a Violet thing, and I'm not trying to insult Colette or anything like that. I would be far more okay with it if Colette was the one to go on about the "power of love" because she's literally the HOPELESS ROMANTIC! She's the one with her head in the clouds, the one most likely to fangirl about ships in movies, the one who chooses to ship Romeo and Juliet and pretend to not see the entire second act of said play for the sake of believing in love.

If Colette had a line where she gushed about the power of friendship, I would've just chalked it up to "that cheesy-ass statement is something she'd totally say ngl", as opposed to the jarring whiplash I get from seeing Violet of all people call upon the Power of Friendship.

Again, probably will rant about this at some point (lemme know if you're into that idea), but yeah -m-

Literally just chuck the power of friendship bits and replace them with something more practical/realistic/grounded/whateveryouwannacallit, and it's basically perfect! Even the bits where the girls make friends on their journey is believable! Those don't have to be altered at all! Geuh it drives me insane, almost to the point of wanting to do something about it....

Well, that's enough rambling for today. I can't use up all my steam on this first book-- I plan on making ramblings for the second and third books, after all.

See ya Stilton fans, and for the newcomers from Twitter, welcome :D I hope you enjoy your stay :D

#geronimo stilton #thea stilton #thea sisters #book review #book rant #book rambles #unfortunately treasure seekers 3 isn't available on the archive as far as I'm seeing :'3 #which is disappointing because GWAAAHHH #not gonna give any spoilers but it and book 1 are tied for my favorite in the trilogy #i remember reading the first treasure seekers and immediately feeling nostalgic because i severely missed the girls treasure hunting #high stakes and all that crazy stuff that the older books delivered #tangoing with some crazy villains with some hella power and not like the latter four graphic novels did #i missed that a lot so having it in treasure seekers made my at-the-time 15-year-old self very happy #ipads dieded rn but once i get it back and fixed and hopefully not factory reset i should draw some treasure seekers doodles fr #maybe something like i dunno aurora beatrix lane #who knows :]

20 notes · View notes

charlataninred · 1 year

Text

Forgetmenauts Intro Post

Heya y’all! Since there have been a few posts/asks about the Forgetmenauts, I figured I’d make a introductory masterpost! If you think anything should be added, just lmk (ask, dm, in the replies, whatever ur comfortable with). All helpful links are attached to the end of the post <3

Created: 12/1/22

Last Edited: 11/30/23

FAQ

Is there a right way to start listening? Nope! You can jump in anywhere and anyway you want. If you really want advice on where to start, the general consensus seems to be a) listen to Gay Werewolf Murder Ballad or The Marriage of Bigfoot and Mothman first to get the vibes, then listen to the songs in album order, or b) go straight to listening to the songs in order. The main reason this is recommended is because some songs are explicitly connected to each other, so listening to them out of order first may be a bit confusing. Still, if that isn’t your speed, let me reiterate that there is no wrong way to listen.

Why are we called the Coven? Back in September 2022, the fmns found our little fandom here on Tumblr. In the notes of this post, mountaingnomes (one of the fmns) called us a “tiny coven” and the name stuck! I’ll link some other posts from that very eventful day bc it was quite a fun time.

Miscellaneous Info

They have a YouTube channel (linked below)! There are a LOT of gems there, including live recordings of songs, some recorded shows (Musical D&D is a fun one), and two music videos: one for Dancing Plague, one for Summer King. Highly recommend checking it out.

Also on YouTube but on a different channel is a radio show done on KXSF! This is where the songs Cottonwood and Rusulka & the Shepherd Girl where first introduced (to the Coven, at least). There's also a lil Coven shoutout there :3

They have a segment in volume 3 of the queer horror zine The Quiet Ones. It starts on page 47, but I highly recommend reading the short stories and poems before and after! There’s also a mini interview with each member that includes their pronouns <3

The fmns have an insta where they post announcements/updates. If you have insta, go follow and support them!

Helpful Links

FMNs Youtube

KXSF Show (Cottonwood at 0:00, Rusalka at 27:00, our shoutout at 37:50)

FMNs Insta

FMNs BandCamp

FMNs Genius Page

The Quiet Ones [Vol 3]

Approximate Coven/FMNs Timeline (done by the lovely Rio)

Fan creations!

I’m not above plugging my mutuals’ or my own work, so here’s some fanworks for your enjoyment

Atlas’ skull embroidery

Casper’s Rusalka facts

Kitt’s short story

Mina’s fabulous Fox fanart

Mina’s Guide to Listening

Marlene’s Rusalka embroidery

Marlene’s skull embroidery

Rua’s choreography

Rio’s audio crimes (34 seconds of the word “run”)

Rio’s audio crimes (the entire fmns discography in 2 minutes)

Rio’s (confirmed!) Hawker theory

Rio’s vampire quiz (audio on!)

Aegis’ color picked pride flags

Aegis’ trans interpretation of CiR

Aegis’ skull embroidery

The Coven Compels You (to listen to the fmns)

The Day the FMNs Found us

Breaking News

Coven origins

#the forgetmenauts

172 notes · View notes

chaoticbuggybitchboy · 1 month

Note

I want to know :3

My favorite poem is Antigonish by Hughes Mearns! It’s featured in the Magnus Archives and it is lodged in my brain forever. I’ll probably make it its own dedicated post but it talks about a man who isn’t there, with the writer wishing that the man who isn’t there would go away. It’s a lovely little poem and especially as someone whose psychosis manifests primarily as delusions, I simply Vibe with a poem about something you know isn’t there but terrorizes you anyways.

And yeah! I have taste -> color synesthesia!! For the first 10 or so years of my life I thought you could teach colors to (color)blind people using foods. It’s kind of a weird thing to try and talk about because really the main way I know that my experience of the world is different from most people’s is that language just not built for the way I experience taste. I’ve thought of trying to do some sort of art based on my synesthesia but ive never been able to figure out exactly how since it’s really difficult for me to separate taste and the colors. I also experience ‘shrimp colors’ that don’t exist in a way humans can visually experience. Like orange and green at the same time, but not grey or speckled; the color simply does not exist.

There’s also almost no correlation between visualcolors and tastecolors. Por ejemplo, carrots (orange food) taste like a desaturated forest green. The only real trends are that the more artificial a food is, the more likely it is to match color wise; and that water will lighten and desaturate things.

Also it’s difficult for me to sort of quantify since I have no other frame of reference, but it does have a lot of effects on my life. Since color tends to overwhelm any ‘normal taste’, that’s what most of my favorite (and least favorite) foods are based on. I dislike carrots because it’s unpredictable whether they’re green or brown and I don’t like that neither of those are orange. My two favorite foods are grape koolaid (it’s so purple and I like purple; I also never water it down because then it’s Purple and I can also taste sour) and salt & vinegar chips (the vinegar covers any colors).

Water is always white or a very very light grey. This does affect what water I will drink because I avoid drinking water that’s sort of tinted warm colors. Doesn’t vibe right.

And the way I describe foods is almost always color based, since that’s the main way I experience it. This has deeply confused and mildly frustrated anyone trying to learn anything applicable to their own experience of food. I have no idea what other people taste, especially since colors tend to overshadow anything else. I’m pretty sure I experience spiciness and saltiness normally though.

And as mentioned earlier, it seriously impacts my sensory issues. Tastes are doubled (I guess?) and any after taste lingers for ages. If the water im drinking is significantly tinted it builds up in my mouth and is Bad (I had to pause writing this to refill my water bottle with my house filtered water instead of the water fountain from my school since that water is reddish and my water is only very faintly teal). Also since all taste is doubled-ish I am basically always aware of the fact that my mouth has a taste and a color. Which kinda sucks.

Also I think this is an adhd thing but I have a hard time describing colors unless I’m actively tasting something because I have a word based brain and the colors are something that completely upends the English language’s way of describing the senses. That’s sort of why I always describe it as being a one way link and say “taste to color synesthesia” rather than “taste color synesthesia”, because I don’t taste anything when I see colors, I just experience colors when I taste something. I think if it went both ways I would be a very different person and would likely have meltdowns much more often but that’s pure speculation.

I thiiiink that’s everything I can think of right now, but yeah! Synesthesia! I think I heard the word about four-ish years ago now and literally nothing has clicked for me faster than that did. It took me less time to start identifying with synesthesia than it did for me to identify with any lgbtq+ label. Every time I think about the fact that ‘tasting colors’ is something that people say to mean they’re loopy or high or something and not that they can literally taste colors I have to do a double take. It’s such a seemingly tiny little thing but it’s so fundamental to my experience of the world that I cannot even imagine anything different. What does koolaid taste like if not Color? I don’t know, because all I can taste is Color.

#chaoticbuggybitchboy #info dump #synesthete #synesthesia #text post #infodump #antigonish #ask #someone did ask!!!#someone asked

9 notes · View notes

softxsuki · 1 year

Note

Hi Han! Hope you're having a wonderful day and thank you for considering my request!! <3 Can I have a letter from Shinichiro where he confesses his feelings to a close friend of his (aka the reader) who he has a crush on? The tone can be a little nervous but also very loving and full of fluff <3 The genre can be fluff ofc and maybe friends to lovers vibes?? As for the location, let's make it an evening his friend decides to stop by to help him with taking care of Mikey and Emma? He's been wanting to confess for a while but he didn't get the nerve to do so until his friend goes up to his room to take something and sees a pile of crumbled up papers on his desk. And what is that weird box near them?

About me, hmm. Let's say that I am going to medical college while has already started his bike shop- so I go over to his place after classes to hang out for a bit- so we'd be around 20 or 20+? I like visiting different places like museums, galleries and libraries (even if I say no, Shinichiro always drives me there no matter how far away it is) and though he says he finds them boring, he always tags along. I like singing a lot! And I play the piano too! I write from time to time (poems mostly!) I'm extroverted but I do find myself being shy in a lot of occasions. I love to talk about anything that fascinates me! I like weird little gifts that people make or buy- they mean a lot to me ;)

As for the direction of the story- after everything happening and I read the letter- I notice Shinichiro running towards the room and watch his face turn red as he realises what I am reading. You can decide where it goes from there... (but ofc I say yes) ;)

Han, thank you so much for doing this and I hope this doesn't affect your health in anyway (or I am going to come for you :D with some warm blankets and soup hehe). I hope you have a terrific day and an amazing week! Thank you once again! Bye!! -🕰

Shinichiro's Confession Letter To His Best Friend

Valentine's Day Letter Event Pt.2 Masterlist (CLOSED)

Pairing: Shinichiro x Gn!Reader

Warnings: some crying, kissing

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers

Post-Type: Letter

Word Count: 1.5k (oof)

Summary: In which you find a letter addressed to you in your friend, Shinichiro's, room on Valentine's Day

[A/N: Hello hellooooo!! Happy Valentine's Day! Quick note--Mikey and Emma are both young here, just to let you and everyone else reading this know! I hope you enjoy it <3]

“Mind if I borrow a shirt?” You ask your friend beside you, looking down at the food that was now all over your own shirt.

Shinichiro was in charge of his two siblings for the night and had invited you over to help him watch over them. Little Mikey and Emma–one more chaotic than the other, but regardless you couldn’t turn down his offer to see two of your favorite kids in the world…and your best friend who was also your crush…

“Huh? Uh y-yeah sure, you know where my room is already,” He stammers out, red in the face at the prospect of seeing you in one of his shirts. Emma and Mikey were hyper-focused on the TV screen, one of their favorite cartoons was keeping their attention, as he addressed you.

Oblivious to his burning face in the dimly lit room, you thank him and head into the direction of his room. Shinichiro’s eyes burn into your back as you walk away. He sighs hopelessly, turning his attention back to his siblings as you disappear into his room. How much longer would he be able to keep his composure around you? The cracks were already starting to show and break even more as his affection for you grew day by day.

You close the door behind you, hoping Emma or Mikey wouldn’t try and open it while you changed since there wasn’t a lock on it. Your eyes explore Shinichiro’s inviting room, taking it all in as you had never been in there alone before. It was fairly tidy, the familiar smell of him smashing you in the face, making your heart flutter slightly. You make your way to his dresser, digging through the bottom drawers for a shirt.

Your movements are quick as you cautiously remove your shirt, not wanting any of the remnants of food on you to spill on his floor, and you slip on one of Shinichiro’s shirts. A quick task that took you no less than two minutes to do, but as you turned around to leave his room, your heart told you otherwise. A quick look-around wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

Thousands of thoughts and fantasies filled your mind of the raven-haired man who you had a burning crush on. What would it feel like to cuddle with him in his bed? To wear his clothes more often? To fall asleep in the same bed, limbs intertwined? To be his–what would that feel like? Your heart craved to know more than ever–you were tired of being only a friend to him; why couldn’t you be more? Would he even feel the same way? Is that even possible?

Your thoughts go blank though as you spot a box on Shinichiro’s desk with papers sticking out of it. You can’t help but approach it and open the lid of the box, glancing at all the papers inside it. One paper in particular though, catches your attention even more. Jealousy and fear fill the pit of your stomach at the sight of an envelope with a heart drawn on the front of it. Was this for someone he liked? Or maybe from someone who liked him?

With your heart racing, your curiosity gets the best of you and you find yourself opening the envelope and taking out the paper inside it. It’s a letter…with your name written at the top of it. You begin to read with a hopeful heart;

“Dear Y/N,

Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m still not entirely sure if I can even find the courage to give this letter to you…but I guess if you’re reading this, then I did! I’m writing this letter to you, not as a friend, but as someone who has had a crush on you for a few years now. Is that shocking? Hopefully it is because I’ve tried my best to control my emotions whenever I’m around you in fear of scaring you off with these feelings.

You’re my best friend, someone Mikey and Emma also look up to–perhaps that’s where it started?

Seeing the way you treated my siblings as your own. Your ability to light up any room you walk into, your kindness, your drive to always be better than you already are–you’re absolutely amazing. I guess the more I saw these little things, the more my heart started seeing you differently. I couldn’t meet up with you without going red in the face, blaming it on the exercise I wasn’t doing, or that old excuse of having been out in the sun for too long. I can’t even take my mind off you; as I write this, images of us together in the future fills my mind. A positive outcome of you reading this letter–IF you ever read it.

But I’m also scared.

Scared to lose the friendship that we already have. I don’t want to scare you off and how could I turn back from saying all this if you don’t feel the same way? We’d slowly drift apart, and not only would I lose you, but so would Emma and Mikey–they love you so much. And I lo- actually no I don’t want to scare you any further. I like you Y/N. I like you a lot.

I write this with the plan to give it to you on Valentine’s Day and I’d love to know if you’d want to be mine this year and the next, and every year moving forward. Valentine’s Day has always made me so anxious. I was nervous you’d call me one Valentine’s Day saying someone asked you out. I don’t even want to picture you with someone else except for me.

I hope I don’t sound too greedy or desperate. I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same way! Just know that I truly care, and I’d love to be with you and walk together towards our future. Yes, OUR future. I want the future to be ours–together. Gosh this is so dumb, I’m sorry.

Will I ever give this to you? Hopefully.

Your hopeless crush,

Shinichiro Sano.xx

If your heart wasn’t already racing, it definitely was now. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Shinichiro felt the same way about you, for what looks like a pretty long time. How had you not noticed before?

You read and re-read the letter over and over again, allowing his words to sink in. This was real, right?

“Y/N! WAIT,” You suddenly hear loud footsteps run towards the bedroom door and Shinichiro flings it open with fear in his eyes. He pauses in the door frame, taking in the image of you in his shirt which makes his heart leap in his chest, but then he sees the open box and the letter he had written a few days ago, in your hands, and that’s when his heart drops down to his feet.

“I- I can explain. You see it was ju-”

“Thank you,” you cut him off, tears beginning to pool in your eyes–happy tears of course, “Thank you for liking me.”

He was flabbergasted to say the least. Images of you being disgusted with him or uncomfortable around him after reading his letter left his mind as the smile on your face filled his heart. He slowly walks towards you, cupping your face and wiping your tears away.

“Why are you crying?” He soothingly asks.

“I’m sorry, I just never thought you’d like me as much as I like you…” another confession.

His hands pause from wiping your tears, taking in your words before a huge smile appears on his face, “Really?”

“Really Shin,” you laugh, wiping the rest of your tears away, embarrassed that they fell from your eyes without your permission. This was a time to be happy! “And I’d love to be your Valentine this year, next year, and every year to come.”

Overwhelmed with joy, he hugs you tight, scared that if he lets go, the world would crumble and he’d wake up to find out it was a dream.

“Can I…kiss you?” He shyly asks with you still in his arms.

“Of course.”

He leans in and your lips connect in an innocent kiss. Your first kiss together–the first of many to come. He sighs in content, disconnecting your lips and leaning his head against yours.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long, I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”

“Same here, especially not on Valentine’s Day. I’m glad I snooped around though. I’m sure you probably wouldn’t have given that to me on your own, huh?”

“I would have…eventually.”

You laugh, hugging him tighter. “It all worked out in the end.”

“Yeah, I guess it did,” he hums in delight of feeling you in his arms, “Though I’m sorry we have to spend our first Valentine’s Day together babysitting my siblings. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. How about tomorrow?”

“Hey~ I love your siblings. I’m glad I could see them today! Anytime with you will be time well spent, but I will take you up on that date offer for tomorrow,” you wink.

He kisses you one more time, sealing the deal, before the two of you finally leave the room, remembering the two kids that needed to be supervised. You walk out hand in hand, which makes Mikey gag as Emma cheers for joy, making you both laugh. Everything was perfect.

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

LETTER EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Posted: 2/14/2023

#tokyo revengers x reader #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #tokyo rev x reader

112 notes · View notes

flash-the-readies · 1 year

Text

Pink Floyd Songs I recommend that are not “Another Brick in the Wall Pt. 2″, “Money”, “Wish You Were Here”, and so on

So I was inspired by @afemalesebastian ‘s post about the Kinks and decided to do the same with a band that I have spent extensive time with and feel confident saying that I know their catalogue fairly well. Anyways, go check out all the Kink’s bangers they mentioned.

This is my personal list and isn’t based on anything other than “I really love this song”. I tried to stay away from the big four concept albums of “Dark Side”, “Wish You Were Here”, “Animals”, “The Wall”... the only advice that can be given for those is: listen to the whole album. One last thing, all songs are best experienced through headphones.

The Entire “Hour With Pink Floyd” KQED radio set

Setlist: Atom Heart Mother Suite; Cymbaline; Grantchester Meadows; Green is the Colour; Careful With that Axe, Eugene; Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun

I Attached a link to the Youtube playlist because I don’t think Spotify has these versions, and also it’s great fun to watch. This setlist includes a. lot of early 70s Pink Floyd concert staples. Early 70s live Floyd was unmatched, the studio versions do not compare. You never realise how beautiful a song Green is the Colour is until you listen to it live. I have so many words for this set nghhhh. Also, Grantchester Meadows is one of my favourite songs. It’s straight up pastoral poetry and is steeped in nostalgia. I like this version best, and I love when Roger and David share vocals

If - Atom Heart Mother

Here’s a theme for you: I’m a whore for Roger’s folksy songs, whoops. The three “solo” songs on the album are so worth it (If, Summer ‘68, Fat Old Sun), but I personally have to pick this one. It’s so fucking tragic and simplistically beautiful. Got some of that introspection and isolation, good tea. Inspired by Rudyard Kipling’s poem by the same name. Also the slide electric guitar is a real treat... also, Roger’s voice is so soft ;-;

Point Me at the Sky - Single

I like it, okay. It’s like a little novelty song, okay, back when Pink Floyd was still trying to write singles. Also holds some themes on the passage of time and blah blah which is seen extensively in Pink Floyd’s catalogue

Biding My Time - Relics

Okay.. It’s kitschy, I know. It’s got that jazzy feel (curtesy of Rick and his trombone) and that blues feel. Once again with that wacky jam session in the middle that defines early Pink Floyd. Also go off Nick with the drums!

Pow R. Toc H. - Piper at the Gates of Dawn

I’m a whore for weird mouth noises, and this has an abundance of them. Once again with the quintessential Floyd jam session. I’d say mono is best here since stereo is a bit mind-fucky (y’know early stereo is a struggle.. although I wouldn’t say it was too horrible with Pink Floyd), anyways, if you’re in the mood for weird sensory stuff, then stereo is great... this song is just a sensory nightmare, so tread carefully.

“The Pink Jungle” from their “Man and the Journey” suite, 17. September 1969 Amsterdam show, is EXTRA demonic and chaotic. Warning tho, there’s some slurping noises at the end. Nick carrying the band fr

Pillow of Winds - Meddle

although to be honest, the entirety of Meddle is where it’s at. Considering I listen to this song every night I had to include it. A love song :D, and it’s really pretty and drowsy. Again with the pastoral poetry, a very ambient piece (that’s just Pink Floyd in general) and the ever present themes of anxiety

Here’s some definitions since I’ve been asked a couple of times:

eiderdown: a quilt filled with down (originally from the eider) or some other soft material.

eider: small, soft feathers from the breast of the female eider duck

Wot’s...Uh the Deal - Obscured by Clouds

Another fan favourite. It’s just so beautiful. The whole album is really pleasant listen and has so many hidden gems. Again with the passage of time, steeped in a deep sense of melancholia with a sprinkle of wistfulness. The steel guitar solo is also a real treat. I also like Burning Bridges, Stay, Childhood’s End, Free Four a great deal and,... I’m giving Free Four it’s own spot on this list.

Free Four - Obscured by Clouds

this is the cheery song about death an the passage of time. The Hand-clapping just gets me, y’know. And the EMS VCS 3 synth is so crunchy, It’s great. If you you’re one of those people tired of Roger “whining” about his dad, then here’s an alternate take on that. Me? I’ll take any number of songs about Roger’s dad and trauma though

Nobody Home - The Wall

Okay okay, I chose a Wall song, BUT I would call this one a Wall Deep Cut, and It’s one of the most beautiful songs in their catalogue. There’s just this overwhelming sadness to it. You’ve got your nods to Syd, you’ve got your empty comforts, isolation, a non-ending, just a beautiful string of words

What Shall We Do Now - The Wall

THIS song. Yep, the one most people prefer to Empty spaces and... It rocks SO HARD. Added a link to the audio on Youtube since it’s not on spotify. Roger has a version of it from his Wall tour, but I prefer the one from the original Pink Floyd shows. The drums are phenomenal, the aggressiveness (not often associated with Pink Floyd), the flow of the lyrics, the deep growl of the guitar and the vocals (particularly in “shall we drive a more powerful car”). The animation that accompanies it in the film is one of my favourites. Talk about coping in unhealthy ways

The Gunner’s Dream - The Final Cut

Yes yes yes it’s that infamous album...I get it.. love it or hate it, I personally adore it. If there’s one song on the album I think you should listen to, it’s this one right here... I’d also say it’s one of THE SADDEST songs in their catalogue. This bloody song has made me cry multiple times. Again with the dissolution of the post war dream and an anti-war anthem. Makes reference to the famous lines:

That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England

from Rupert Brooke’s poem, “The Soldier”.

I’ll say, Roger’s vocals really go with this one, they’re so raw and oozing of emotion. Also that sax solo??? mmm yum

Not Now John - The Final Cut

Another uncharacteristically aggressive song. But oh man, the field noises in this are SO GOOD it makes me cry (in a happy way this time). You have to have to have to listen to this with headphones. Whoops I included two Final Cut songs, but I love that album

Poles Apart - Division Bell

I’ll say, this is my favourite song on the album. Also David talking to Syd and Roger, so hey. I love his voice on this album, and the wistfulness in this song speaks to my heart. There’s also this chaotic instrumental ambiance bit in the middle that’s giving haunted merry-go-round lost childhood kind of vibes, and I love that.

Take it Back - Division Bell

Big fan. It’s like a tragic, wistful environmentalist love song. Note the nurse rhyme “Ring a Ring O’Roses at 3:02).

Embryo

specifically the 30. September 1971 BBC Radio session. But “Picnic” is also a classic version, and shorter. The jam session goes so hard! And then you feel like you’re just chilling, floating in embryonic fluids. I can’t stress enough how much I love this song, I have been working on learning it on bass. This other version includes children laughing and such as well as the same feedback on Echoes (16. July 1970) ... wow, turns out I just like creepy haunted children field sounds.

Okay, this was a lot longer than I was expecting and it took ... way too long to complete. But that’s my list! ... I have concluded that I just like sad songs, whoops. Here’s a spotify playlist. Not all of the versions I mentioned here are available, so I put alternate picks.

#pink floyd #text post #irving rambles #classic rock

33 notes · View notes

ashtrayfloors · 1 year

Text

The past couple weeks have been pretty intense, emotionally. Good, bad, weird, all three, but intense all ‘round.

The Monday before last, E. shared a post of J.L.’s on Facebook & I had to go thru the thing I’ve gone thru so many times already: Do I tell her he abused me & risk her disbelief & the loss of our friendship? Or do I say nothing & just feel super super gross forever & probably lose the friendship anyway because I’ll feel too uncomfortable hanging out with her while knowing she’s friendly with him? I decided to tell her, and ultimately she responded the way I’d hoped she would, but I was up half the night feeling nauseous & panicky. This is like the fourth or fifth time I’ve had to go through this re: J.L. Which, I guess, is not shocking; he’s a well-known guy in the Milwaukee DIY/arts scene. So yeah, not shocking, but it still sucks that I have to keep going thru this.

In the wee hours of that Monday night/Tuesday morning, just before I finally fell asleep, was the blood moon/eclipse. & when I woke a few hours later I was bleeding. That day was the midterm elections & I wanted to make a joke about I’ve got your red wave right here or something. Speaking of—boy, am I glad that the promised red wave did not happen.

That day, and for a few days after, I went thru a bout of mania the likes of which I haven’t seen in a while. There’s still a part of me that wants to fall back into the old self-destructive tendencies. Y’know, they get manic & wanna get stupid drunk about it, or fuck a stranger about it, & they get a little ornery that they can’t. But it is fortunate that, these days, I can sometimes harness my manic energy in more positive ways. I used this bout to get a bunch of housecleaning done, & work on my novella, & then... I was listening to Endless Possibility, the tribute to Jack Terricloth, & there were all these clips of him talking, & in one of them he said: It’s hard to live in the past, it’s hard to live in the future—we live absolutely in the moment. Now is the only time. Do not ever wait. The only answer is yes. & hearing that spurred me into beginning to put the finishing touches on the revised & updated edition of What We Talk About When We Talk About Punk.

Saturday the 12th we celebrated D.’s 11th birthday. His actual birthday was the 13th, but we decided to celebrate with my parents that night, at my mom’s studio, so we could watch the holiday parade. My mom saw my new haircut for the first time. She’d seen me a couple times already since I cut it, but I’d hidden it with a scarf or hat because I knew she’d make a comment & I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. Sure enough, when she saw it, she visibly winced, then said: “Oh, Jess, really? I keep thinking you’ll grow out of doing that kind of thing.” My response was: “I keep thinking you’ll get used to me doing this kind of thing.” Then she said: “I mean, it’s your hair, you can do whatever you want, but you look so pretty with normal hair.” I just shrugged, cuz we’ve had this ‘discussion’ (& other, similar ones) approximately 5000 times in the past 28 years & she doesn’t get that I’m not trying to be pretty. I mean, yes, I like to feel pretty sometimes, but a. I certainly don’t want to be pretty in a conventional way, and b. overall, I am not going for pretty. I’m going for jolie-laide. I don’t want to be merely pretty, I want to be hot & a little intimidating.

I don’t know. She & I have been having some problems lately, in general, & they’re all the same troublesome dynamic we’ve always had. I love her but sometimes her comments & passive-aggressiveness just exhaust me.

The next day, between cooking, reading, & playing with the kiddos, I had several moments of professional jealousy/envy. I got really down about the trajectory of my career vs. other people’s careers & felt too sad about it to work on my novella that day (though I did work on a prose poem about why I wasn’t working on my novella).

But, the very next evening, I attended Library of America’s (virtual) lecture & Q&A with Todd Tietchen & Jean-Christophe Cloutier, the editor & translator, respectively, of LOA’s book The Unknown Kerouac. It helped me get past feeling sorry for myself. For many reasons, not the least of which was their mention of Jack writing: I hope it’s true that a man can die, and not only live in others, but give them life. Which in turn made me think of Sarah Manguso’s essay about the true purpose of being a serious writer: If people read your work and, as a result, choose life, then you are doing your job. It made my envy of others’ successes seem petty, made me remember— My purpose is not to receive accolades, my purpose is to write & to get my work out there so that the people who need it can find it, & it can give them life.

So, after the Q&A ended, I got back to work on my memory project. (Kerouac considered his entire oeuvre a memory project, a la Proust, & I see myself/my work in that same lineage.)

Thursday, I went to the Racine Art Museum with my mom. We did that last year near her birthday, too, and it was so nice that it has become our new tradition. I always love going to RAM; I feel so blessed that we have such a great art museum in this mid-sized midwest town. The new exhibits that have been added since I went there back in August are phenomenal. & the zodiac-themed virtual community art show my piece is part of? They had an iPad mounted on the wall, scrolling thru all the pieces in the show, & it was really fucking cool to see mine there. I know it was only on a small screen, but still. To see my art in a real fucking art museum? Kinda mind-blowing.

In other news:

Some of my nearest & dearest have been going thru some health scares. (Thankfully, I now know for sure that one of them was just that—a scare.) Little C. has been relentlessly moody, & I guess I’ve been pretty moody, too. I’ve been horny a lot & also sad a lot.

I’ve got a new crush. I know nothing can, or will, ever come of it, but I don’t mind so much. Crush energy, much like mania, is something I’ve learned to harness in more positive ways, most of the time. I don’t need to pursue my crush, I don’t need to pine, I can make them my muse & channel the energy into writing & art. & I’ve been deep in nostalgia—what else is new—longing for a hundred thousand people, places, moments from my past. Currently, I’m missing the winter I worked in a flower shop in Chicago, & the winter I ice skated once a week in downtown Milwaukee. But, at least nostalgia is another energy I can channel into art. My whole life is a memory project.

3 notes · View notes

brazilianbutch · 1 month

Text

I often ask myself why I still keep this blog. I guess sometimes I see stuff here that are so niche and make me laugh that I probably wouldn’t see in other “social media”. Or maybe because here no one knows me/cares about me and who I am. I can freely reblog/like posts about my mental illness and… it’s just a normal thing, not concerning at all.

I’ve never written much on here because I’m pretty insecure with my english I guess. But today, for some reason, I feel like I just need to send those words to the world even if no one will read it.

2023 was the worst year of my life and I’ve been trying to kick back from that but… how do you kick back from almost d*ing?! How you just live your life that, you can’t forget, is so often permeated by mental illness and chronic disease. And to pair up with that, you suddenly find yourself struggling in ways that you’ve never struggled before, like not knowing if you’ll have enough to eat on the next day…

I also can’t help thinking the world is so fucked up and there’s just so much suffering, and many people suffering a lot more than I am and it feels like just empathy is not enough, but I can’t seem to deal with my own problems even in a small scale.

And I almost feel guilty for not wanting to be alone, for feeling so lonely, for wanting so bad to be loved and appreciated and I know that those things would not save the world, unfortunately, but I think they might save me, maybe one day.

That’s not supposed to be a very philosophical post or anything, more just a rant. But it’s an awful feeling when you want so bad to want to live but all you see in front of you are closed doors, time keeps passing, and so little changes.

Anyways, if anyone by chance reads this, I hope you’re ok, wherever you are and whatever are the circumstances that you are going through.

Since I’ve rambled for too long already, I’ll leave you with one of my favorite poems by a Brazilian author, Carlos Drummond de Andrade (translated freely by me, so it may not be perfect).

Questions in form of a Seahorse

“What measure is there?

to measure us?

What shape is ours

and what content?

Do we contain something?

Are we restrained?

Can you give us a name?

We are alive?

What do we aspire to?

What do we possess?

What do we remember?

Where do we lie?

(It never ends

it hadn't even been created.

Mystery is time,

unequaled.)”

#personal post #mental illness mention #possibly triggering #non graphic su*cide mention #poetry #vent post #anyway I’m two clonazepam’s deep so I may delete it tomorrow lol

0 notes

awek-s-archived · 1 year

Note

the fact that the moment i get back from unprecedented tumblr breaks i worry about my favourite person not being here skdsokds once again: hello alex~ i hope you’ve been well the past couple (or is it a few?) months i did not have the pleasure to open this app and see your cute little posts! i will be starting uni soon (in around 3-4 months and mayhaps will be transferring later on in the year if i get into the other cooler uni) so i’ve been working on my portfolio for the while i wasn’t creating content :D i have like half a novel and an essay left (the short stories & poems have been dealt with!) and i am currently stuck on what topic to choose for the latter LOL it’s probably either one among 1. feminism vs women’s rights activism; 2. ethics & morality or 3. addiction and its relationship with social isolation… frankly thinking i might take one of the other options that talk about placebos since all of these are talked about a lot here but idk haha anyways! i really wish it gets done with earlier than predicted because i really want to get back to giffing and mindlessly scrolling on tumblr while reblogging nice creations ;;;; but that’s not possible since writing takes ages to perfect 😔 hope you have a wonderful day ahead of you though <3 - 🍃 bio anon

oh my goshhhh i missed u!!!! can't lie to u it's been close, nearly deleted a bunch of times but i decided to just vibe w all my friends/mutuals for the most part and not let things affect me so.. :3c

but wow i'm so proud of you!!! that sounds like soo much to write especially the essay (for some reason academia comes a little harder to creatives, speaking from experience) but i know you got this! i guess ethics and morality encompasses the other two topics well depending on what you end up focusing on and contextualising.

also i feel u!!! i actually just finished my dissertation a month back (and got a B! i'm so pleased) and i've been creating a lot less since before i submitted it bc i needed the writing to be perfect and even now i'm busy stressing about the application for phd </3 it never ends does it! JKLFDSJKLG

i'm sooo happy you've been doing well schoolwise, i hope your regular life is also ok!!! i miss u sooo much i love u

#🍃 bio anon #asks

1 note · View note

wickedpact · 4 years

Note

dear tumblr user crim wickedpact pls write the essay/dissertation about nicky being shakespeare's fair youth (if you have time, ofc!!)

Not To Imply Nicky Was Shakespeare’s Fair Youth But Ive Read The Fair Youth Sonnets & Nicky Was Definitely Shakespeare’s Fair Youth, an essay by me, tumblr user crim wickedpact

background knowledge: our man shakespeare wrote some 120 sonnets about a young man referred to as the Fair Youth during the mid 1590s; there has been some debate among shakespeare enthusiasts whether shakespeare’s interest in the Fair Youth was platonic or romantic (but like. they were definitely romantic). no one knows for sure who the Fair Youth was, but it was definitely nicky and my first and most important piece of evidence regarding this hypothesis is the ‘lmao babe do you remember that guy who had a crush on me?’/ ‘i try not to remember the guy who had a crush on you’ look joe and nicky exchange when Merrick brings up shakespeare during the movie. especially since gina confirmed in a tweet that joe and nicky canonly did know shakespeare

my second piece of evidence is that it just Works (except for a couple small facts like.. the Fair Youth was prolly closer to his 20s than his 30s. and the fact that shakespeare implies that the Fair Youth slept with his mistress at one point. but he doesnt know what hes talking about shhh we IGNORE)

long post under cut

A. The Description Matches

when describing the Fair Youth (who I’ll call the FY from now on), shakespeare says he has a ‘gold complexion’ and ‘beautiful eyes’ and compares him to a ‘summer’s day’. He says the FY has “A woman’s gentle heart" and “An eye more bright than [women’s are], (...) Gilding the object whereupon [they] gazeth”

As much as shakespeare’s perceptions of sexuality and gender are very........ late 1500′s (whoo boy sonnet #20 is a wild ride) ...... the description does match, and also:

B. The Fair Youth Refused to Get Married

it’s never really said why one way or another (shakespeare assumes it’s because the FY is selfish) but the FY didn’t/wouldn’t take on a wife and have a kid, and this was something that was a real sticker for our man Willy S. because, as he says in his sonnets a million times: beauty doesn’t last forever, but having a child not only passes down the FY’s beauty, but also blesses the woman the FY would have a child with (im not saying shakespeare wanted to bear the FY’s children, but he definitely did)

Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

(ie. If you don’t renew yourself/ have children, you deprive the world and deprive a woman from having your child, since what woman out there is so beautiful that she wouldn’t want to bear your child?)

Like.

1.) if nicky is the FY then so many of these poems center around the idea of nicky growing old sometime soon and that must have been pretty funny to Nicky and

2.) the fact that shakespeare would have been So Desperate for nicky to find a wife must have been the opposite of funny to joe. considering the ease of his and nicky’s relationship and the fact that being gay in late 1500s england was probably not a walk in the park, it is very likely shakespeare wouldn’t have known they were in a committed relationship-- or at least not known how close they actually were. Thus:

C. The Rival (aka. Joe)

shakespeare mentions having a poetic rival in regards to the FY in several sonnets. In sonnet #21 he talks about how he’s not like Those Other Writers who use grand metaphors to talk about their muses

So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems, With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare,

(ie. I’m not like other poets who, when inspired by a ‘painted beauty’ use heaven and every other beautiful thing on the planet to make a grand comparison to their muse: he specifically lists the sun and moon as examples as well as other beautiful things)

He then goes on to say

And then believe me, my love is as fair As any mother's child, though not so bright As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air:

(ie. my love [the FY] is as beautiful as any other beautiful person, though I wouldn’t compare them to the stars/heavens (which is what he means by the 'gold candles’. those are stars.))

So shakespeare insults poets who compare their subjects to the sun, moon, and stars (amongst other things) and in the comics, Joe does literally exactly that

That man is the stars in my sky, and the sun that lights my days. That man is the moon when I'm lost in darkness, and warmth when I shiver in cold.

shakespeare also goes on to say in the same sonnet “Let them say more that like of hearsay well / I will not praise that purpose not to sell” which is to say ‘let people who like that kind of language use it, I wont because I don’t want anyone else to have the subject of my affections (the FY)’.

(which is a bit of a contradiction regarding his feelings abt the FY getting married, but these sonnets are full of contradictions. shakespeare was a confused dude; man spent the first 100 or so sonnets convinced the FY loved him back only for him to start wondering if the FY ever loved him near the end)

(not to mention Marriage For Love wasnt really.. much of a thing in Ye Olden Times but thats a different conversation. so shakespeare prolly didnt associate marriage with love/competition? anyways)

Shakesy-boo goes on to complain about this rival several times. In #79, he says

Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He robs thee of, and pays it thee again. He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give, And found it in thy cheek: he can afford No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live.

(ie. everything ‘your poet’ (as the FY apparently favored this unnamed rival) says about you, he takes it from you in the first place. he talks about your virtue, but learned the word from watching your behavior. he calls you beautiful but only discovered beauty by looking at your face. every compliment he gives you he took from you in the first place)

[and, as a smaller example, he also bemoans the fact that people want to paint the FY in #67, saying, “Why should false painting imitate his cheek, / And steal dead seeming of his living hue?”. and yknow. Joe’s an artist.]

And then another example in #86

Was it the proud full sail of [the rival’s] great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?

Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?

(ie. he’s talking about how he’s having difficulty writing abt the FY and is rhetorically asking if ‘the proud sail’ of the rival’s verses was the reason his ‘ripe thoughts’ were killed in their ‘womb’. He then asks (again rhetorically) if it was the rival’s ‘spirit’ (or creativity, maybe) ‘’’‘by spirits taught to write’’’’ that killed his own drive to write. none of the analyses I’ve read really explain what shakespeare means by ‘spirits taught to write’, other than maybe being a joke or reference to something we dont know, but... ‘taught by dead people to write in a way mortal people can’t’ very much sounds like a description of an immortal poet, eh?)

Which brings me to,

D. Willy Boy Thinks There Are 500 Year Old Writings About the Fair Youth

shakespeare talks about people having written about the FY ‘500 years ago’ from the late 1500s in #59 which......................... would have been around 1100 AD. :thinking face:

Oh that record could with a backward look, Even of five hundred courses of the sun, Show me your image in some antique book, Since mind at first in character was done, That I might see what the old world could say To this composed wonder of your frame;

(ie. Oh if I could look back 500 years and see how you were described in some old books so I could see/reference what people used to write about you)

Which again brings me to,

E. I’m Not Saying shakespeare Stole From Joe, But:

1.) In #22, shakespeare says this,

For all that beauty that doth cover thee, Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:

(ie, your beauty is due to the ‘clothes’ my heart gives you-- probably means something like ‘you’re beautiful because i love you’. goes on to say his heart lives in the FY’s chest, and the FY’s heart lives in shakespeare’s chest)

so: shakespeare tells the FY he has shakespeare’s heart. in comparison, Joe calls nicky ‘my heart’ in the comics...... :thinking face x2:

2.) In #109, shakespeare tells the FY ‘thou art my all’,

For nothing this wide universe I call, Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all.

which rings similar to Joe’s ‘he’s all and he’s more’ as well as (from the comics) ‘he is my everything’

and just saying. joe looks pretty #done the mention of shakespeare.

F. The last One

Despite shakespeare writing 30+ poems about the FY eventually growing old, the very last poem he writes about/for the FY says,

O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein showest Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self growest.

(ie. you [the FY] have power over the ‘mirror’ (fickle glass) of time as well as time’s ‘harvesting’ ability (sickle hour) and as you grow older, you remain beautiful while your lovers [shakespeare] wither and grow old)

The transition from ‘get married and have a baby before you get old!!!!’ in #1-20 to talking about the FY’s presence in 500 y/o books in #59 to admitting the FY isn’t growing old in #126 kinda seems to imply shakespeare learning of/about nicky’s immortality at some point, and this last poem is him accepting it.

TLDR: not only does it make perfect sense if nicky was the Fair Youth from the FY sonnets, but it also makes perfect sense if joe was the Rival from the FY sonnets. its canon nothing will convince me otherwise

#IS THIS GETTING TAGGED? YES #nicolo di genova #joe x nicky #my_essays #the fair youth saga

1K notes · View notes

regina-del-cielo · 3 years

Text

I was thinking about Copley’s Murder Conspirancy Board (mostly to deal with the absolute rage that the scene with Andy Copley and Booker gives me because ‘UGH THESE MEN ARE SO S T U P I D’), and... I may have a Theory about it - which mostly delves into how much Booker and Copley were in actual contact with each other before the events of the movie.

TL;DR: the Murder Conspirancy Board was built with a contribution of Booker’s information, and Copley was Very Confused on the workings of the Guard’s immortality

(the Essay(TM) is under the cut)

This excellent post expounds on how these two Grieving Dumbasses Definitely Did Not Think Their Plan Through, but still what little they did plan was not done in two days. And I would like to think that Booker would have required more than One (1) Persuasive Speech to get him to potentially get his family outed and put in danger for the (tiny) chance of getting a cure for their immortality.

So they’d been in contact for a while, possibly for almost the whole ‘break year’. Copley has lost his wife two years before the movie, so when he and Booker met again he’s one year into mourning. If Andy needed a break from their jobs, I can’t imagine in what mental state Booker must have been.

Copley probably started looking into the Guard because man, that Surabaya mission was a masterpiece, and how come these guys aren’t mercenary superstars? But they’re like ghosts, and the IDs don’t really match their supposed ages... and dealing with his wife’s death made him go into a Nerd Spiral. And then he finds Booker.

So this is how I think it went: they meet again. They talk. Copley is a grieving widower, Booker goes ‘man don’t I relate’. Booker is probably drunk a lot of the time (maybe so is Copley, misery loves company and all that). They enter a positive feedback loop of sharing grief over lost loved ones. Copley probably spills that he knows something, that they’ve done great things and they have a gift obviously. Booker probably answers along the lines of ‘fuck the gift, it sucks. Didn’t save my children when they needed it’. Copley goes ‘well, medicine is much better today. What if you could do it now?’ And the rest is history.

A) Booker ‘helped’ with the Murder Conspirancy Board

We know for a fact that the Conspirancy Board contains information about the Guard ‘from the last 150 years’ which is, approximately, the time photography’s been around. And it makes sense - photos are pretty easily accessible, and Copley knows their faces. He probably scanned them from one of those fake IDs and then used a facial recognition software to find them in historical photographic archives. But we know (and by the end of the movie so does he) that the last 150 years is a nothing in their lifespan. And while going backwards Copley may have found Booker’s original birth and/or marriage records, nothing of the sort would exist for Joe, Nicky and Andy.

Despite how much we joke about the Guard’s faces being Everywhere in museums and art galleries around the world, we can assume that they wouldn’t leave so many traces of them behind. The two known art pieces representing Andy in an obviously recognizable manner, her portrait with Achilles and the Rodin, are in the cave in Val d’Argent. I don’t believe Nicky and Joe wouldn’t have similar storage places, especially for Joe’s own art. Without photographic evidence and before newspapers, trying to pinpoint the three of them across history would be harder than finding a specific needle in a haystack of needles... unless someone tells you where to look.

When Andy enters Copley’s living room, he calls her ‘Andromache the Scythian, the eternal warrior’. But how could Copley have known that Andy’s “real” name was Andromache? It’s not on her IDs, and it’s not the top choice for a full name that has Andy as a nickname. It’s a literary name, of course it would appear through history in poems or plays or novels. And how could he have associated Nicky and Joe precisely to the Crusades with what he knows of them from the last 150 years alone? For all he knew, they could have been as old as the Punic Wars, or as young as the Battle of Lepanto. Assuming he’d actually caught on on them being together together.

Well, I think Booker told him. Maybe just a thing here or there, while Commiserating on How It Sucks being an Immortal, like ‘Andy’s been around for so long she doesn’t even remember her true age, that’s exhausting’ or ‘Joe and Nicky are ridiculous for two people whose first meeting consisted of killing each other during the fucking Crusades’. And Copley fell into another Nerd Spiral that brought him to understand that holy shit these people are much older than I thought what the fuck.

B) Copley is Very Confused on How Immortality Actually Works

Copley talks to Andy by calling her ‘eternal warrior’ and talking of her immortality as if it was some kind of gift that can somehow be transferred from one body to another (debatable, but... ok). But he’s also flabbergasted by her not healing from Booker’s shot, and later with Nile he says ‘but then why would the immortality leave?’, which is... well, it makes it sound like he thinks the immortals are some sort of Chosen Ones.

Which means that Copley knows nothing about Lykon. He had no idea that at some point the Guard will stop healing.

But why would he not know, since I just conjectured that Booker told him enough about immortality for him to pinpoint the origins of the eldest members of the Guard? Why would Booker not have told him such a central detail of their “power”? (Booker obviously knows about Lykon. We see Andy telling Nile, and you can bet that ‘is this thing permanent?’ is probably the third question Booker ever asked when he met the others. He can’t not know)

I think it’s because despite having bonded over their grief, they are approaching this ‘discovering what the fuck is up with immortality’ from two extremely different sides.

Copley wants to know if there is some biological aspect to their immortality that may be ‘transferred’ or ‘activated’ in any random human being. He’s gotten into his head that their regenerative powers can end all diseases. Which. I could probably write another entire separate post on how this is far-fetched at best. Point being, Copley never thought his endeavour as taking the immortality from the Guard to give it to someone else. He thinks Andy and the others are going to live forever and ever.

Booker knows their immortality is not forever and ever, theoretically. He knows that at some point, in the future, he’s going to stop healing and die. But he Wants to Talk to the Manager about it, damn it. He wants his death to be a certainty he can quantify, not something that may happen in another five thousand years based on the data he’s got at his disposal. He wants to have the choice to end it tomorrow or in fifty years - if discovering what causes his immortality saves other people, well that’s an undeniable bonus, but it’s not the focus of his motivation.

Just like Booker and Copley didn’t cover all the potential ways in which Their Plan Could Go Wrong (and honestly, has Booker not learned yet just how fast they revive on average? He tells Nile that ‘big wounds take longer’, and still he revived from the grenade in three/four minutes!), I think they also didn’t Delve into their motivations for seeking that knowledge. Booker probably thought that Copley knowing of their immortality being relative was irrelevant, because of course the doctors will find something (the thing that makes them stop healing), and then he’ll die anyway, so who cares?

And Copley... Copley was probably Convinced that the Guard was a group of superheroes that just needed to be suggested a new investment plan for using their powers, because saving individuals during wars and natural disasters is very noble and good, but come on, it’s inefficient as hell, they can do much better!

(It absolutely sends me that Copley saw the kind of accomplishments reached by the people that the Guard saved, or by their direct descendants, and STILL it didn’t occur to him that there was a pretty decent chance that sometime in the future they would save someone that would find the cure for ALS and/or other shitty diseases! HE’S LITERALLY HINDERING THEM!!!)

#the old guard #my ponderings #james copley #sebastien le livre #my favourite Depressed French Boi #James 'Dumb of Ass' Copley #Copley is an Absolute Imbecile and I will Die on this Hill #I hope this rant makes sense I changed the order of the paragraphs a hundred times I'm sorry #just to be clear Booker didn't Completely Spill the Beans about the family to Copley otherwise the man would know about Quynh too #Copley most likely scraped at any small detail he could glean from their conversations and add it to the Nerd Spiral #Copley is a Nerd that also somehow forgot how to extrapolate results from given data #for the Guard's sake I hope his skills were hindered by his grief and he goes back to Full Operativeness once he gets some Therapy #THEY NEED SO MUCH THERAPY OMG

145 notes · View notes

ayuen · 3 years

Text

Gnostic Chorus - theory time!

Not really, just something that bothered me for a long time. From the first moment I saw this one story it did not left my mind and sometimes new information we get fit... so I decided to have a little fun and write down my own thoughts on it. And since we have little to no information about Kaeya... about that a little later, well, let’s treat it like my little headcannon that may turn out not true but is so fun, so here we go :D

Also some spoliers? about newest Archon quest I guess? it may turn out long, I’m just in a mood for it, so you have been warned.

So the story starts with this glorious kingdom, established among the heavens:

Khaenri'ah was like Dain said:

He says nothing about them being underground.

And well, they didn’t have a god, so these words can be understood differently, like Khaenri'ah being among kingdoms in a heaven in garden of gods.

Next we have this line about a crowned heir, will come back to her later.

She was tasked to search for the genesis pearl...(genesis makes me think about creation - so here another idea for a possibility like remember Khemia? maybe she was meant to find it, but somehow forgot who she was? And stayed as a ruler of Khaenri'ah? well, let’s leave it for another time) from the kingdom of darkness.

So lets’ stop here. There is this theory that Teyvat is upside down.

Which could mean that what we consider top is actually bottom. So if the lore in the books talks about Khaenri'ah as an underground kingdom maybe it’s just misinformation? Maybe not but if we take into consideration how recent Kaeya’s love poem isn’t without a doubt translatable, truly who can trust in everything that’s written about historical events in the pieces in the game? But if it was in fact turned upside down... also this quest and the theory of a fake sky? From The Crisis Deepens. This would be too much to write about it, also I read all about it, bc I wasn’t playing the game at the time so yeah, it’s on youtube in any case.

So from newest Archon quest we have this:

I know it doesn’t say out right that there is someone above our sibling leading Abyss but whatever Paimon says something, it is relevant so we can take it into consideration. Will come back to it in a moment as well.

And here comes Childe, Tartaglia, I don’t have him so here a part of his story: (And why did I bring Childe?) Well, first we have his story where it’s said that he learned how to fight from a woman in the abyss:

Story 4

“That 14-year-old boy got lost in the snowy forest.

Pursued by bears and wolf packs, he lost his footing and fell into a bottomless crack in the earth's surface.

There, he witnessed the endless possibilities of another ancient world. There, he would meet a mysterious swordswoman...

Or perhaps one should say that this dark realm had sensed the burning ambition in this boy's heart.”

“In those three months, the swordswoman taught Tartaglia how to pass through the Abyss unhindered, and more importantly, nurtured the ability to stir up endless havoc from within Ajax's trouble-mongering nature.”

Also a really nice post on reddit about his transformation.

https://www.reddit.com/r/childemains/comments/m9nbei/reasons_behind_the_appearance_similarities/

Also there’s another one:

https://www.reddit.com/r/Genshin_Impact/comments/mt8l3i/at_young_age_childe_had_fallen_into_abyssal_and/

For those who prefer to see it all in one post. And in the story line our sibling who leads Abyss is Lumine, it does not fit her fighting style. even before coming to Teyvat she was using a sword, so her style wouldn’t change much, even after traveling through every nation.

So I’m assuming it’s another person who is higher than Lumine in a hierarchy in the Abyss. So remember this Crowned Heir that was supposed to find the Genesis Pearl? What if she did in fact ended up in the Abyss, she believed to be a queen of the darkness.

Which would also explain why our sibling is not called queen, but princess:

We don’t know how she may ended up in there, but we also know that The Abyss equals ppl from Khaenri'ah. Than why Dain is against Abyss order?

Like who laid this curse upon him? Not Gods I think, so maybe the queen of the abyss? Since abyss mages fear her more than they fear painful interrogation...

Also The Abyss order and Dain are on different sides. Why? We don’t know what happened there for sure.

There are also theories (also on youtube) about the cycle and the truth of the word. What if the Genesis pearl is just a knowledge of this word? What if this crowned heir figured it out? And decided to destroy Celestia? And forgot about her orgins, forgot Khaenri'ah? What if what Abyss is trying to do have really not much to do with revenge for for destroying Khaenri'ah but for all the destruction that Celestia did? What if Dain is on other side because he doesn’t need to fight this order? He doesn’t like gods for what happend to Khaenri'ah but we don’t see him rushing to harm them either. But that’s topic for another occasion.

Coming back to this “theory”.

The second crowned heir taken on the path where the first have stumbled.

Here also why I think it’s not about our siblings. We don’t know from where they come from, true. We know they were traveling together, maybe they where searching for something? Maybe they are royals? Now we know nothing about it. We know that:

I’m not putting the whole exchange here but from this we know that our sibling was not send by someone to find something our sibling failed to do. We don’t know what is this destiny Lumine/Aether talks about.

From the Gnostic Chorus we know this about first crowned heir:

But as we see in the newest Archon quest, it’s from Aether being on the side of the Abyss because I play Lumine.

He/Lumine didn’t forget who they are. From this we can see they also searched for their new home, maybe their last one was destroyed too? Maybe that’s why Lumine sides with people from Khaenri'ah?

But anyway...

Who in the story have a task to do? Who was send with a clear mission we know nothing about? Who is a person about which we actually know less than about Dain?

Yeah, Kaeya.

We know his father abandoned him at Down Winery with a mission of being their “Last hope” (I will be not posting pictures here about it, this post is long enough). There is a lot of theories about him being a prince or some royal since theories about Dain being a sword are confirmed (see theories about Alberich) not to mention the names of his talents that led us to this conclusion long ago.

For for sake of this theory let’s say that Kaeya is a prince send to find Genesis Pearl. Wouldn’t it fit that he makes friends with criminals? Who is better for a information network?

Not to mention, he told the truth to Diluc, if he was a treat wouldn’t he kill him? or at last told about him to others? Diluc was respected at the time, who wouldn’t believe him?

So maybe his goal is not to destroy Mondstat?

I always was wondering about this one. What major decision? maybe I’m thinking here too much from experience, maybe it’s not common approach... but his father left him in unknown land, with strangers. With a mission on his shoulders. And Mond gave him a loving family, Crepus, Diluc other ppl who love him, as it is stated on official side of Genshin Impact.

Why would it be a hard choice to choose between happiness and duty? Like I said maybe it’s not a common approach, but what does some old kingdom mean when you have a found home? Shouldn’t it mean more? Is it really that hard of a choice?

But what if he have someone to save? Someone he cares about? or loves? Who isn’t guilty but lost?

You probably can tell where I’m going now with it right?

What if he will have to save his sister? Ok, some will say Aether have to save Lumine from Abyss order but does he? Is she kept there against her will? did she forget about him or their goal? or is she just waiting for him so they can really reunite and continue their journey through words?

I know that this messes with my “theory”:

Teyvat Chapter Storyline Preview: Travail｜Genshin Impact

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAlKhARUcoY

But Dain is against Lumine? He is against the whole Abyss Order, why would be stop us from getting or sister and getting away from Tayvat for good?

The thing that doesn’t fit is that he seems to be talking to Aether here with “You who set foot into this word. Your journey has reached it’s end but one final doorway remains.” And yeah, Aether is travelling, prob the reason why most of NPC call us Traveler instead of using our name. But it can be taken about kaeya as well, if we consider the fact that he come from Khaenri'ah and now he is in Tayvat, which is not considered to be a part of Tayvat.

Ok, it’s longer than I thought... and I still wanted to put her more but oh well.

#Kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya genshin #genshin impact #theory #Kaeya theory #spoilers???#it's my rumbling #will make Kaeya facts part two soon #I just used all my brain power on this

85 notes · View notes

lofi-tophat · 3 years

Text

Let’s talk about the 70s punk scene and HWS England

I sometimes feel that the fandom doesn’t give England’s love for punk/rock music much justice. Some authors usually write about this human AU in which Arthur wants to be a rockstar and some others plainly avoid the topic whatsoever. Which is a pity because I actually believe the whole character has a deep punk reference, specially regarding appearence (might expand on this in another post but basically, for me, England seems like some random bushy browed anime 70s punk guy who suddenly has to put on a suit and attend world meetings, which is both fascinating and hilarious).

So I thought maybe we could dive a bit into very general punk history and then I’d like to share with you some hc regarding England’s involvement with punk culture in general (if you just want to read the hcs just scroll down to the last paragraph with the bullet ponts).

My experience in punk stuff is actually that I’m kind of a metalhead lol. Metalheads and punks had and probably still have a deeply-rooted rivalry. However, punk influenced metal a lot, and metal also influenced punk. So I stumbled upon many punk facts while browsing about my favorite metal bands.

Take this as historical hetalia... but counterculture historical hetalia :D (which is something we need more in the fandom, btw, I know military history is cool but its also cool how humans expressed themselves through art, fashion and music when they felt the pressure of authority and the frustration of society).

Historical context

Let’s return a bit in time and remember the 60s. The 60s were this blessed time in which people tried to defeat the establishment with peace and love. The hippie movement is from this decade and it influenced a lot on how people thought and behaved. In terms of counterculture, I must say this is a fascinating time in history (I recently discovered psychodelic science and its so incredible what was being talked back then).

Anyways, although a lot of young people were into this discourse of love and peace, some weren’t really that happy about it. In Europe, the post-war situation was sad and a lot of young people either were jobless or had the shittiest jobs you could imagine. Politics were also depressing. This was the origin not only for punk but also for other genres of heavy music, such as metal: People who didn’t want to be all happy and peaceful and had the need to express their frustration and anger, shouting about how society was fucked up. They needed an outlet.

Origins of punk

The origins of punk music are actually not quite clear. In fact, the US and the UK both claim that punk music was born in their country. Funnily enough, my country also claims to be the origin of punk (I’ll leave this mini-doc for you. Sadly, I don’t think this is a correct claim, mainly because their music was in spanish and I doubt that major punk bands took them as reference. Its a cool band tho).

I have to side with americans on this: The arguments for the american origins of punk are quite solid. The Ramones were the first actual punk band out there. They were active since 1974. Their music had all the elements of punk and, chronologically, they were the first ones performing this type of sound.

However, they didn’t have the aesthetic. That actually was a british invention. American punk had still leather jackets, jeans and sneakers. British punk? Well, remember all those ripped pants and shirts you commonly associate with punk? Yes, those were the Sex Pistols all along. They were the ones introducing the attitude and the style. The Pistols had some insane performances and a huge shock-value that can’t be found in early american punk. So you can safely say that your image of what a punk is is based mainly on the Pistols (also, for singing anti-authoritarian lyrics, they actually were managed by some dude who had a fashion shop. So yeah...).

Punk attitude or philosophy or whatever

The reason why I addressed the rockstar thing at the start of the post is because I find it curious. Punk is characterized by the whole Do It Yourself attitude and breaking with the establishment. Anarchism in punk is scandalizing people since there is no authority whatsoever. There wasn’t really any deep philosophy behind all of this, nor any political movement. Punk has nothing to do with a formal anarchist philosophy (which actually exists and has nothing to do with disorder). However, punk is characterized by the anti-establihsment lyrics. Remember, this is all about scandalizing people (which sometimes took great lengths). Presentations from british punk bands were also quite wild those days. They involved a lot of insults, spitting and, of course, pogo.

So, it is obvious that there is this deep concern about turning into a sellout, a pretty common fear in any underground scene. Authenticity was encouraged. Aspiring rockstars really didn’t have much mercy in the community so to speak, at least in this specific period.

I would also like to add how punk had other aspects beside the music. For example, fanzines were pretty popular in the punk scene in the 70s and a great way to engage with what was going on with bands and music. I remember also this interview of this band in which they remembered how a very high guy decided to recite his poem while the band was playing. So, yeah, literature, illustration, fashion and other stuff were involved in the punk scene too.

British punk was also characterized by a very nihilistic attitude and a total disregard for previous influences. 1977, a song by The Clash, stated:

No Elvis, Beatles, or the Rolling Stones!

Now, for the important stuff: The music. Punk music is all about being simple. Punk musicians aren’t really known for their virtuosity in their instruments, something that actually inspired musicians from a lot of heavy bands later. In fact, the famous Sid Vicious from the Sex Pistols never could learn how to play the bass. So the band disconnected his instrument from the amplifier and he only had to pretend to play. The guy actually tried to learn how to play bass but music wasn’t exactly his talent. He had tons of punk attitude though, and that was the reason why his band didn’t kick him out.

Vocals are usually shouted, the rythm is fast and the riffs are quite simple. In fact, there is this famous publication on a 1976 british fanzine that stated:

This is a chord

This is another

This is a third

Now form a band

HWS England and the 70s punk scene and onwards

Thanks to his immortality, it is obvious that England had to experience the 70s in all their glory (what a lucky bastard). Was he there? Hell yes. As I explained before in some of my hc posts, nations represent the population more than their Government, so I really believe that England felt the frustration from that post-wwii decade and he probably also felt pissed about this. Working for the Government must have felt really frustrating during those years.

In the past, he probably would have tried to take his ship and sail the seas or whatever, but that was not possible in the modern era. I guess that’s how he discovered punk.

Now, rock existed in England before punk. I mean, the Beatles, duh. So Arthur wouldn’t have been completely ignorant about rock music in general. Contrary to popular belief I don’t imagine him being that much of a beatlemaniac though. Sure he likes them, but the music didn’t resonated with him as much. But boy, that first time he heard the Pink Fairies in 1971 (Yes, this was an actual band, a proto-punk band)? Yeah, he could relate more to that.

More detailed stuff here:

Pubs were crucial for the development of punk music. They were these spaces in which bands could play, a venue to discover new music. Yes, Arthur must have been a regular in a lot of these pubs.

Fanzines probably fascinated Arthur as an outlet for his own writings and silly drawings. He probably created a cringey pseudonym and collaborated with a lot of them.

Its canon that England likes to critic american movies, and, taking from there, I think he’s the type of guy that has an opinion for everything. So I can imagine him also writing about what bands he enjoyed and what bands sucked.

Yeah, I can also see him being drunk and just reciting a poem while some rock band played behind.

With some ability, and a lil bit of tricks, Arthur could escape normal Government activities and perform with punk bands at nights. People were so into the music that he had no problem passing by.

Some cover art in CDs show Enlgland with a guitar and a bass (yes, not many people remember the bass cover art). So he probably plays both guitar and bass. He also probably plays the drums. Of course, he’s no virtuoso and he only knows the most basic stuff in those three instruments. I can see him being into songwriting tho.

Music equipment:

Guitar: Definetely a Telecaster

Bass: Fender P-bass and I can also see him having a Rickenbacker 4001

All these instruments are full with stickers. Punk instruments look really cool btw. (I wish my bass could look like those I see in certain punk bands)

England’s probably the kind of guy that doesn’t cut his strings at the head of his guitar.

He can actually play guitar/bass and sing at the same time.

England plays bass with a pick (what an asshole, we bassists know picks are not allowed)

Contrary to popular belief, I can see England appreciating good rock music from other countries and supporting them. He probably insists that punk music was born in the UK though.

1977: The Queen was going to celebrate her silver jubilee. And England had no problem with this. He really had none... but he HAD to be in that boat trip with the Sex Pistols. There’s no way he was going to miss that. He later had to explain his abscence that day to his Government officials (Btw, my hc for England’s relationship with his monarchy is “It’s complicated”. I can explain this later. Just remember that he was really pissed those days)

I can see Arthur in general being really involved with the scene. A lot of the stuff they were making actually matches with his canon interests and even personality. So he probably enjoyed those days and felt quite at home. I can even say that, for a long time, he hadn’t felt that kind of connection with his own people.

Although I can see England being attracted by the nihilism in the scene, I think his romanticism protects him from embracing it fully.

England had to live a double-life during this era. Not that it was new for him.

Arthur was pierced several times by some random, drunk teenagers. He doesn’t remember who tho. He was also drunk. Obviously his piercings close really fast, unless he has a permanent jewel in there.

I can actually see England expanding his music taste. Although punk is in his heart, it wouldn’t be strange for me that he’s overall a rock nerd and enjoys other genres, specially those with fast drum beats and heavy riffs. So I can see him having some metal favorites too, having a certain taste for prog rock and even digging into hardcore.

I’m still unsure if England would have been a massive Pistols fan as fanfics usually portray him. I mean, maybe? I would say he is definetely into acts such as the Pink Fairies (I mean, c’mon, its perfect). The Clash and the Damned probably also have a place in his heart.

After the punk scene dried out (the 80s weren’t that great for punk music although it was the birth of even heavier forms of music based on punk), England also was eager about the new genres flourishing during these times based on punk. Acts like folk punk might have had an appeal for him. He’s also fond of the punk-ish bands from the 90s like Green Day.

“Punk will never die!” shouted England while stage diving in some random small concert. He likes to support new bands these days.

The most fascinating thing, maybe in a more poetic sense, is that England’s immortality probably also helps him to keep up a punk spirit as much as his nationhood allows him, instead of aging poorly and angry like a lot of punk musicians... I mean, he aged poorly, but for other reasons lmao.

#hetalia #hws england #lofi-tophat: really long hc #in the next issue: America is a swiftie WITH EVIDENCE #I do enjoy some american metal bands but I don't see America being that much into heavy music #he probably doesn't even care if punk was born in the us or not so england maybe won that one #guys i could ramble forever with my music hcs but ill just leave you with Moldovas extensive pop collection #finland's passion for folk metal acts like korpiklaani #and cuba shouting AZZUUUUUCAAARRR in karaokes #btw pirate metal exists kind of as a subgenre but it exists and england is into it

36 notes · View notes

illfoandillfie · 3 years

Text

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery: Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb.

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue. “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

#my writing #my fics #smut fic #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee smut #gwilym lee imagine #this has been half written in my drafts for much too long now #but im very happy to be able to finally post it!#just got one more thing to write for this advent countdown #which i'll try and knock off after i get back from church #so that its ready to go in the morning #anyway #hope ya'll like this #i might kind of love writing pretty dumb boys #blurb advent 2020

117 notes · View notes