#high noon verse

[kalijhomentethi]

" this seat taken? " a question not needed : soon does evelynn lean, shifting and letting one leg sway around akali's own. soon she straddles the angel's lap, a coy smile lacing her lips. she raises a hand, gracing the tip of the other's hand before flicking it back for a better look. amusement flickers in her gaze, the glowing stare she receives -- exciting.

she blinks slowly, ever alluring. " i've been waiting for someone to come along, " she hums, tilting her head. " im in need of a ride out of here, honey. won't you be able to help a girl like me out? "

to say the angel was less than pleased about the new occupant of said 'seat' was an understatement. "was never a seat, but i bet you already knew that, didn't ya?" the glower the other receives upon tipping akali's hat speaks volumes on her annoyance, and yet judging by the stranger's reaction, it only serves to fuel her amusement.

"'m sure a girl like you could make your way out of 'ere easily. why spend all that time o' yours waitin'? can't catch prey on the road, 's that it? the west don't quite suit your palate? or 'ave you been livin' 'round 'ere, havin' folks come to you instead, like flies to some honey? bit of both, i'd wager. 'cause i can get you a ride out of 'ere, alright, just not the kind you'd want."

something sings in the air as her hand moves closer to the other, a holy blade materializing before exposed skin. both of them are still in their sitting positions, danger evident and tension simmering. "i've dealt with your kind before, devil. you can't hide with those eyes o' yours. not good to make your way to me of all people."

#YEEHAW #save a horse ride a— #ic #high noon verse #agonizedembrace #agonizedembrace | evelynn. i would find my way back into your arms and spend every lifetime with you.

[agonizedembrace]

“hey, pretty thing.” the angel purrs, leaning against a nearby counter. “mind if i steal you ‘way for a private performance?”

there’s a glimmer of excitement that settles in evelynn’s gaze as the angel speaks. the night was turning out to be rather dull — the normal crowd not quite as energetic per usual. her lips begin to curl into a delightful grin, beginning to pace around the very counter akali leans against.

“ hello love, ” affectionate and territorial; any nearby occupants knew better by now to approach. “ miss me that much? ”

soon they’re face to face, only a counter ( begrudingly ) between them. somewhere down the stand, a certain ‘ shadow ’ sighs into his mug ‘pon sight of the blatant flirting. “ i certainly wouldn’t say that i’d mind, long as you make it worth my while. ”

she knows for a fact that the angel will.

#mobile post #tags to be fixed #hi ill add my normal tags layer i just got possessed at work to write this #high noon verse

[piltover-sharpshooter]

Some Premiere practice with Sheriff Caitlyn

#occ #High Noon verse #Caitlyn Kiramman #league of legends

[gwen-bracket]

(Propaganda beneath the cut)

Guinevere:

Gwen Stacy:

#spiderverse #the mechanisms #the mechs #the toy soldier #high noon over camelot #guinevere #gwen stacy #into the spider verse #hailee steinfeld #polls #gwen bracket

[mercless]

Demons have always had a home among men, dressed as snake-oil sellers, trickster carnies; your pick from low lives who feed off the agony of the desperate. Ruining souls one by one is all well and fun, but the damnation of humanity itself is something so disgustingly sweet to fiendish ears.

Talon was there for the downfall of Heaven, and wouldn't have missed it for the world. When the deities were chased and slaughtered all the way into the Far West, they were there; delighting in the hunt along with men whose hearts were full of greed and all who bargained for more than they could handle. Malevolent and drunk on bloodlust, Talon went out of their way for the foul deed of killing an angel with their own blades, reveling in victory by drinking its divine blood. Demons, much like man, can be foiled by hubris.

The pure, holy substance was like poison to their fiendish vessel. Over agonizing decades, the angelic blood has changed what the demon once was. Dragging a physical form out of the shadow that they were, twisting their brimstone limbs into something smooth and brittle. Feathers everywhere, and otherworldly features plastered over a sullen look. And worst of all, a beating heart and all the empathy and conscience it pumped through their body. Although their nature never ceased - killing fools who meet them on the long road - every soul became heavier to guide. Every unnecessary loss of life was a tragedy, every body dropped into less hellfire upon the split from its inhabiting soul.

Something worse than a pitiful example of a demon now, Talon wanders barren roads between towns and outposts for unlucky souls to prey on. They keep an ear out for hushed words from all kinds of folk, mostly in the hopes of finding aid to their angelic affliction. But when the whispers of Harbingers arise, Talon can already smell the petrichor of the doom of all. The end times are brewin' along the horizon, and something stirs in them to do something about it. They can't even bring themself to hate the idea.

#‡ the end is comin' for us all | high noon #angelic transformation (horrific) #caving after years and adding hn as a verse

[zaunseye]

verse :: high noon

setting: runterra - high noon gothic location: the west tag: 𓁿 v :: high noon 𓁿

Silco is best known as 'Blackeye', the leader of the Shimmer Shots, a gang of cowboys known for looting, opium smuggling, and marshal hunting. They staked their claim originally as miners, working for the expansion crews from the east, but one day their mine was breached by a crack into the fabrics of Hell, causing a blast of magical and demonic gaseous energy. In the blast, Silco's eye was damaged, and his skin scarred. From the crack into Hell blossomed opium flowers and crystals with magical properties, which Silco took samples of to their local chemist, a man named Singed. While Singed was able to develop the flower into a potent drug in combination with ground up crystals from the mine, Silco wanted to keep the crack a secret. However, one of the miners, Vander, turned to the marshals and reported their findings. Once their claim was taken by the government after the discovery, they were stripped of their funds and homes in the settlement known as 'The Devil's Lanes'. After disowning Vander and his lackey Benzo from the group of disgruntled miners, they turned into a gang hellbent on making the lives of settling families and official government marshals pure suffering and difficulty, as their own lives had been made. Some years later, Silco took in and adopted the found family daughter of Vander after killing him, raising her as his own child. He taught her how to use a revolver and a shotgun, how to crack a safe, how to use dynamite, and takes her on several carriage and train heists, much to the chagrin of his second-in-command, Sevika. After many battles and raids, he has finally seized control of his original settlement, the Devil's Lanes, and is the de-facto mayor, with Sevika serving as sheriff. The settlement is marshal-free, though invasion attempts have occurred in the past. These are easily thwarted by the use of Shimmer, a drug developed by Singed that allows its user to open themselves up to demonic ability and power, releasing their inner Devil. APPEARANCE BASED OFF OF SHAHS' AMAZING ART

#zaunseye verses #𓁿 v :: high noon 𓁿

[fuckyou-saidtheraven]

Fuck shit fuck. Crying sobbing tearing out hairs

Listened to High Noon Over Camelot, lads. “Death” + Holder of the GRAIL + Once and Future King destroyed me.

#original post #fandom #the mechanisms #the mechs #high noon over camelot #hnoc spoilers #drumbot brian #joseph robert mathea #mordred hnoc #tbh i wasnt very sold going into hnoc at first bc spaghetti westerns arent exactly my style #+ im not very well-versed in arthurian mythos so i have no context for the fun easter eggs #but now im crying screaming frothing at the mouth #this is the mechs album that really devastated me the most i think #i have so many THOUGHTS about this album #will write them out in a separate post later but AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #quoth the raven

[ikkaku-of-heart]

Watching OxVenture playing more Deadlands (final chapter is tomorrow 😭) and I now lowkey want to do more with my Weird West verse. I mean, I gave Ikkaku a hecking Hellhound!

Still, I shouldn't get too into an AU until I've gotten a few things out of my inbox and draft pile. So that will hopefully be the plan for tomorrow and Saturday. Then maybe a bit more Weird West as a treat. 🏜

#time for maintenance (ooc) #high noon heart (weird west verse) #(this past month has been kicking my ass so major apologies for the extra low activity) #(work along with life stuff. but mostly work tbh)

[rahorak-a]

new verse tag drops. lyrics : here & here.

#⊰ ` ii. verse: high noon / / ain’t no glory in the west. ´ ⊱ #⊰ ` ii. verse: corrupted / / come the final fiery hour. ´ ⊱ #⊰ ` ii. verse: void / / the world is ours to devour. ´ ⊱ #⊰ ` ii. verse: warcraft / / guided by the eternal sun. ´ ⊱ #⊰ ` ii. verse: diablo / / i invoke thy holy power! ´ ⊱ #⊰ ` ii. verse: modern iii / / my heaven‚ the eye of the storm. ´ ⊱

[kalijhomentethi]

Akali High Noon verse.

#GIMME UR HIGH NOON VERSES #mun

[agonizedembrace]

“so you’re tellin’ me you took one look at me ‘n’ immediately thought you had to ride me? and what do ya think ‘bout me now, mm?”

“why wouldn’t i think that?” evelynn asks, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. there’s almost disbelief in her stare now, before a shake of her head. a finger draws at a gruesomely pace along the counter she steps around, hips that swing with her movements. on the prowl.

golden hues zone in onto the angel, hand from counter to her chest. “what do i think now? well darling — “ she pauses then, drawing her whole body closer with a purr. like she couldn’t survive without their bodies against one another; another game, yet not nearly as malicious as the others. “ — i think there’s much to be said between the sheets. i don’t quite think i’ve seen enough of you yet.”

#mobile post #tw: suggestive #tags to be fixed #i wanyed to get this out before k slept #eepy.. #high noon verse.. ofc #» HATE AND LOVE ARE JUST TWO WORDS FOR PASSION ( IC ) #» V. { HN }

[mandoalorian]

delicate

Pairing: High honour Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Summary: When Arthur and the gang are out in Valentine, you can’t help but notice that he left his journal by his bedside, unattended. You’re aware that Arthur is never careless enough to leave something so valuable to him in camp and see you see it as an opportunity. Upon reading his journal, you discover something that changes everything…

Word count: 2,000

Author’s note: My first Arthur fic! It’s been a long time coming. This is also cross-posted on my AO3. I do not consent to my fics being posted anywhere else, or translated without permission. If you enjoyed this fic please reblog as it helps increase support!<3

Masterlist 

You saw it as an opportunity.

Arthur, John, Micah, Javier and Sadie were out in Valentine, following Dutch’s well-convoluted plan to rob the local bank. They’d been gone for three hours already and with Micah part of the team, you dreaded to think how they were getting on. Dutch and Hosea had gone to scout out a manor northwest of Lemoyne, in Scarlet Meadows. Hosea was following a lead he’d heard from a guy at Emerald Ranch – that apparently, a well-off family were residing over there. An excellent opportunity for a cash grab, Dutch was also sure. Lately, any possibility of getting money, Dutch got excited over. You didn’t understand why because the ledger appeared more filled out than ever. Perhaps it was merely nothing more than a sin of greed, although you were in no position to question it. 

Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen were doing laundry as Miss Grimshaw supervised, and Miss Molly O’Shea was napping in Dutch’s cot. She’d been sleeping a lot recently, you’d noticed. Uncle was nowhere in sight, probably sleeping or drunk or getting himself killed by Raiders. And Abigail was with Jack, nursing him back to health as influenza he’d developed after your time in Colter hadn’t yet subsided. The camp was empty. Not a soul in sight.

There was a small crate in the corner of his tent and organised neatly atop was a framed photo of his mother Beatrice, a small vase of flowers that were native to New Hanover, and a beat-up leather journal that he kept close to his bedside. Arthur was so protective of his journal, you’d often tease him for it. Sometimes, you’d admire him from afar. After a hard day, he’d often sit by the lake, slumped against a tree, jotting down his thoughts or filling the pages with doodles of his ventures. 

And this time it was calling out to you.

You wondered why he hadn’t taken it with him. Had he really just ‘left’ it at camp? Forgot to put it in his satchel before he left this morning? You were hyper-aware that you’d more than likely never get this chance again. The curiosity was begging to be explored and you took one final glance around camp before slowly inching towards the crate by his bedside. Arthur’s tent was really just a canopy and once you were under you felt a pang of guilt in his heart. You shouldn’t be snooping around his business like this. He had done nothing to warrant you doing that.

It wasn’t malicious. It was harmless. Just a little peek…

You sat on the edge of Arthur’s cot and picked up the journal, feeling the worn leather between your fingers. Undoing the clasp, you pulled it open midway and were greeted with an illustration of a girl. It was the back of her, so there was no way of making out her face, but as you took a closer look at the pattern on her ranch boots, you couldn’t help but recognise the embroidered swirls and shapes. They were your ranch boots, and Arthur’s illustration was a depiction of you. It was dated noon, 5th July 1899, just a few weeks ago. It appeared to be a drawing from observation, and you were pictured helping Pearson put away an assortment of canned goods. 

It took a moment for it to dawn on you. He’d drawn you.

Now you were invested. You turned to the next page to see a verse of words:

‘Sometimes I wonder when she sleeps

Is she ever dreaming of me?

Sometimes when I look into her eyes

I pretend she’s mine all the damn time’

To the left of the words was another illustration of you but this one had a lot more detail. A delicate flower was placed in your hair and this time, you could see your face. You could see the shape of your nose and the creases in the corner of your eyes when you smiled. It had never been so clear. Your gaze flicked back towards the words as you reread them over and over again. Could they have really been about you?

Surely not. Arthur had never done anything to suggest that he’d had these feelings for you. As far as you were aware, he was still hung up on Miss Mary Linton. You’d never met her before. You’d only heard tales from Hosea, how Arthur was sweet on her and she broke his heart to the point he didn’t want to leave camp for days. You couldn’t imagine Arthur that way. You supposed that since then, he had changed, and maybe since meeting you, he’d changed again.

On the outside, Arthur was rough. His skin was sun kissed and his clothes were old, his boots were muddy and he could go months without shaving. You’d heard stories of his questionable temperance but with you, he was patient and soft and gentle. You’d seen him be kind around little Jack too, and that relationship spoke volumes since John was mostly absent from his son’s life. Arthur was a good influence on Jack. Hell, you could argue he was the best influence around camp in general. Although he was often gloomy and he would, on occasion, pick fights with Micah or Bill, you saw through that. He had a good heart, wether he believed it, that didn’t matter.

A loud cough interrupted your thoughts. You froze, and it was like you could feel time moving. Arthur’s journal was still in your hands and you could feel the eyes of a cowboy bore into your back. You hoped and prayed it was anyone but Arthur. At least then you’d be able to potentially mangle yourself out of the fact you went behind your friend’s back. You wanted to put the journal down, hell, you needed to, but it was like your feet were glued to the ground and your hands were locked in place.

“What you doing snooping through my stuff, girl?” 

Oh, it was Arthur. You winced under his question and took a deep breath. You carefully placed the journal back on his bedside, just as it was before you took it. Perfect. Like it hadn’t moved an inch. Not that it mattered anymore…

“Well?”

Fuck. You cursed under your breath. Say something. Anything.

“Arthur-I’m-so-sorry-I-don’t-know-what-I-was-thinking-I-just-saw-it-there-and-you-always-got-your-head-down-in-it-and-never-show-anyone-and-I-was-just-curious-and-I-know-it-was-wrong-but-I-just-“

“Now, why you talkin’ like that? Like I’m holdin’ you up at gunpoint? Turn around and look at me.” He cut you off, his question was rhetorical and his voice stern.

You immediately obliged and spun around on your heel. Your stomach was in knots. You wish you had never looked. Never betrayed him like this. Arthur’s eyes were a piercing blue like you’d never noticed, and his lips were curled into a frown. But still, he remained stoic. It’s like he was trying to appear unbothered, but you could see right through him.

“You know now why I let nobody look in here?” Arthur muttered, leaning over you and snatching the journal from his bedside.

You nodded apologetically and watched as he stuffed the journal into his satchel.

“I’ll be on my way now.” Arthur tipped his hat to you before turning around. He paused and when he was looking away he muttered, “’Am sorry if… you thought it was weird, miss…” 

Your mouth felt dry as you watched him walk away.

Weird? He was worried that you thought it was weird.

You chased after him and caught up pretty quickly, placing the palm of your hand flat against the broadness of his back. “Arthur, what you wrote in there was the sweetest thing… not weird at all, I promise.”

Arthur stopped and looked down at you, still frowning. 

“I just had no idea you felt that way,” You continued, shaking your head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I overstepped your boundaries and we can just forget about it if that’s what you want…”

To clarify, forgetting about it was the last thing you wanted to do, but alas, this wasn’t about you anymore. You would do anything for Arthur’s forgiveness and if that meant pretending like today never happened, then so be it.

“Forget?” Arthur whispered. “You really expect me to forget about this?”

You pursed your lips together, holding back a sigh. “I don’t think you should. I know I’d struggle to forget what I saw in there… but also, I don’t want to forget. I… I’ve been sweet on you since the moment I met you, Arthur. Tilly and Mary-Beth would always tease me for it. Abigail knew too, but she said you’d never be interested in pursuing someone in camp. Hosea made it seem like you were still hung up on Miss Linton, and so I never said anything. Oh Arthur, you’ve always been so kind to me. So gentle and soft, you’re different to the others…” You placed a hand on his bicep and Arthur practically softened into your touch.

“I’m a bad man,” Arthur shook his head gruffly. “I’ve done bad things.”

“Haven’t we all?” you snapped back, exasperated. “I may just do the chores around camp but you forget my history, Mr Morgan. All of us are Van Der Linde’s and we are not good people. Hell, I struggle to even tell the difference between good and bad anymore. But when I’m with you, I feel good. Really good. I feel safe and protected and God, Arthur. When I saw you felt the same way… that you think about me in the same way…”

Arthur cut you off with a kiss. His lips were soft and plump and contrasted with the roughness of his stubble and quick-growing moustache. You let out a small gasp when his lips crashed atop yours but quickly melted into it, bringing your hands up to his head and running your fingers through his dark blonde hair. His tongue tasted like fresh mint and other herbs you couldn’t quite recognise, and you had never been closer to his musky familiar scent. Arthur’s big arms wrapped around your body and he held you tight against him. When he finally pulled away, he nudged his nose against yours and lingered for a moment, staring into your eyes.

“Forgive me for saying miss, but if it wasn’t already clear, I think I’m in love with you.”

The revelation made you giddy, your heart racing in your chest with the thrill of it all. You couldn’t believe it. Abigail…. Hosea…. They were all wrong. Arthur actually felt the same as you.

“I’m in love with you too,” you squeaked, tears filling your eyes as Arthur enveloped you in a hug.

When you finally pulled away from him, it was only to ask him another important question.

“Do you forgive me for what I did, Arthur?” you asked him sadly. Arthur could see the guilt; it was written all over your face.

“If you didn’t do that, none of this would have ever happened,” Arthur smiled, pressing his index finger to your chin and picking your face up so you were looking at him in the eyes. He was smiling. He was okay…

“I s’pose that’s true,” you shrugged. “I’m still sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

“I believe you,” Arthur said, lacing his fingers with yours. “Now let’s go grab some of Pearson’s broth and we can take it to the lake. I think we have a lot to talk about…”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up. You and Arthur walked side by side to the campfire and the entire way you felt yourself bubbling with anticipation over what was to come next.

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x you #red dead redemption #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #Arthur Morgan fanfic #John martson #dutch van der linde

[demigod-of-the-agni]

#LongPost: A Few Hyper-Specific Things About India for India-Based Stories and Art

No this isn't a cry for more Indian-rep in Spider-Verse stories. (It is.)

Anyway. I recently went to India, and after returning to my hometown in Tamil Nadu, I reintegrated a whole slew of memories and collated new facts.. And considering I've been wanting to do one of these for quite some time (and because I need a new variety of Pavitr Prabhakar content), I thought it'd be cool if I shared some of my experiences and ideas with you.

It's best to take this with caution, though: the only places I've been to are Tiruchirappalli, Madurai, and a few towns located close to the Eastern Ghats, so my knowledge is heavily South India-based. I know for a fact that there are various similarities and differences between other geo-cultural areas of India, which is I why I've linked the other cool India Resources here as well.

In Which I Ramble About Pavitr's Character Design and the Indian Cultural Stuff Related to It by @chaos-and-sparkles (+ my addition + @neptune432's addition)

A culture post for the girlie pops (and non-girlie pops) looking to write Pavitr Prabhakar accurately by @summer-blues-stuff (+ my addition + @fandomsfeminismandme addition)

Also a timely reminder of @writingwithcolor's wonderful resources on writing about South Asian characters respectfully and sincerely

Now, for the things I've noticed in South India..

ANIMALS

There are a lot of street dogs. Like... a lot of them. And honestly it's so hard not to go up to one and give them a snack or two. The most notable dog breed is the Indian pariah and they can be found all over India. Mixed dog breeds are also common and results in a variety of features like differences in build and coat colours.

There are also other types of animals are pretty common to see alongside the roads.

Cattle are seen a lot (cows and bulls are easy to distinguish; cows (left) have udders and a small hump on their back, while bulls (right) are generally stockier and have a super-defined hump on their back). I'm pretty sure the specific cow breed is the sahiwal cow. They are either herded into paddocks for grazing or can be found wandering city streets on their own.

Goats are often herded by farmers into large masses of wool and horns and are guided to paddocks to graze. Sometimes, like cattle, they'll be found wandering city streets on their own.

Chickens are usually kept close to stalls and homes. These chickens are not plump and fluffy like most Western chickens, but are quite skinny. Mottled feather colours are usually a result of mixed chicken breeds. In Tamil Nadu, the most common chicken breed is the asil chicken.

Various birds are often seen flying around traffic if they’re not disappearing into the sky, the most common being crows, pigeons and mynahs. (The chart below on the right is not an inexhaustive list of birds; you best search them up yourself.)

TRANSPORT

There is obviously a huge amount of trucks and lorries and buses. They all have beautiful designs or crazy LEDs or large detailed fluorescent / iridescent stickers that are impossible to ignore, whether it be at high noon or midnight.

Expanding on that, the most common method of transport are motorcyclse or scooties, cars, and autos.

Also, as expected: traffic is insane. It’s horrible. It’s exhilarating. Western honking is akin to swearing, but here? Honk whenever you want. Honk if you’re happy or if you’re sad. You get a million dollars if you honk. You need to honk. It’s more important than breathing

Similarly, road rules don’t exist. Well, they do, and the Indian government does everything it can to make sure people do follow the rules, but based on the aforementioned honking, most people don't. Everyone just drives. Most bikers and motorcyclists don’t wear helmets. Only a few people wear seatbelts. Cars and motorcycles drive on the wrong side of the road and right into oncoming traffic. The chance of someone dying is 99% but it’s countered by desi stubbornness.

ENVIRONMENT & INFRASTRUCTURE

Houses and buildings are painted different colours!!! Pastel pinks and purples and deep teal hues, either plain colours or decorated with elaborate murals. This also applies to interiors. I reckon it was surprising to a lot of people when they were confronted with Mumbattan's vibrant colours, but honestly: coloured buildings slap, and it's based on the real thing. They are a sight to behold. Couple that with the architecture and oh boy- you've got such a beautiful environment.

From @jettpack's concept art for Mumbattan buildings

jettpack's concept art of the Mumbattan collider

From @chenfelicia's concept and colour keys of Mumbattan

Don't be shy to really immerse in crazy descriptors - that's how you capture the liveliness of cities like Madurai and Mumbai and ultimately, their physical manifestations like Mumbattan.

Funny enough, movie posters and political banners and flyers are EVERYWHERE. They’re huge and take up entire billboards, or congregate along walls so it becomes practically a collage. It's impossible to ignore the image of "Makkal Selvan" Vijay Sethupathi about to beat some poor loser into a pulp with a stick, or the political parties roasting each other on paper with impressive photoshopped graphics.

To tie in to the point about transport: there are hundreds of coffee stalls and snack shops and one-of-a-kind food stands. You can’t go 200 metres without running into one, either on the highway or in the city. I remember having jaggery coffee on my first night in India, and guys- it tasted so fucking good. I only wish I can transfer the taste to you. Absolutely splendid.

The climate in India is generally very humid and warm, but that doesn't mean we don't get cooler days; it is obviously cooler on winter nights. Also I've heard from many conflicting sources on India's seasonal weather (probably due to India's geograpghy), so you will have to talk to someone who is from India to really confirm. I've somewhat boiled it down to five seasons:

Summer - May-Jun; very hot (35-45ºC/95-113ºF), characterised by shrinking water bodies and droughts if there aren't any rainfalls; this time is good for plant growth/harvest if you've successfully managed water supplies

Monsoon - Jul-Aug; (34ºC/93ºF) very variable in terms of timing, characterised by torrential rains and floodings; the raining itself probably lodges somewhere in Jun-Sept but the aftereffects are felt long after the rains have stopped

Autumn - Sept-Nov; cooler but humid (25-35ºC/77-95ºF), and generally much drier since it transitions from autumn to winter

Winter - Dec-Feb; much colder, but the extent is dependent on geographic regions (20-25ºC/68-77ºF)

Spring - Mar-Apr; humid (33ºC/91ºF), sudden downpours, only occasionally do you get pleasant weather in this time

PEOPLE AND CULTURE

For some reason, there are still loud speakers blaring out music across the roads and as far as a few city blocks. I honestly thought that that had died out by the time my parents had graduated university, but it still seems like people like hearing music played at 120 decibels.

This is a complicated issue but people are not piss poor. Yes, India is a developing country, and yes there are slums and there are homeless and there are those who are stuck in a horrific sociocultural cycle, but people are rapidly getting into high-paying jobs at much higher rates than before. Overall, India is getting better; do us a favour and not have us be represented by the same poor struggle-riddled Indian stories that Hollywood and Western media is are fond of portraying.

@neptune432: One thing I think it's important to acknowledge though is how your experience in India changes depending on your caste. I feel like most of the indian voices talking online are savarna (I'm not an exception) so this doesn't get brought up as much. It's a complicated issue and one that I don't think non-indians (or savarna indians) should worry about tackling in their work, but it's worth saying because what's assumed to be everyday aspects of indian culture are actually specific to things like caste, class, and what region you're in. ex: in kerala, there are also examples of people eating on banana leaf with lots of vegan food for special occasions (namely during onam). but veganism is heavily tied to brahmanism so most of these people will be savarna. even if they eat meat otherwise, the specific interest in eating vegan for special occassions has clear implications. Though many people of different castes eat meat, it's a practice that gets discriminated against, being treated as barbaric and unclean. this is because of brahmanism and is usually only strictly followed by brahmins. dalits/bahujan usually face the worse treatment for their eating traditions. there's also the fact that hinduism is more of a recent term and a broad umbrella where many different gods and cultures have been put under (and usually done forcefully). a lot of local dieties and specific cultural practices come from outside the vedic traditions of aryans (upper caste north india), but now are treated almost as one thing. ex: kali is a south indian (dravidian) goddess who's still heavily worshipped there and who later got adapted to brahminical traditions. that's also why south indian practices of worship are different from the north and are discriminated against ex: north indians getting angry at the idea of worshipping kali by drinking alcohol and smoking even though it's an older tradition than theirs. these traditions are often connected to dalit/tribal cultures as well, which adds to why these traditions are attacked. Now, I don't feel comfortable with non-indians writing about india in general but I feel it's important to mention these things cos most people don't even realize they're only getting shown certain perspectives. How many people don't even know they're a north/south divide, for example? People are fed narrow viewpoints on India and assume that's everything to know. it's a problem cos that's what the brahminical forces in india want. This is all very general info too and I'm no expert so it's worth more research (like reading what dalits have said on their experiences). I'm not trying to criticize you btw, I just wanted to add some things cos this has been on my mind for a long time now. Couldn't have said it better myself, neptune!! (I barely mentioned it at all lmao) The caste system despite it being "abolished" still defines many traditions within India, and almost always in harmful ways. Like @summer-blues-stuff and I have mentioned in their post A culture post for the girlie pops under the Religion and caste section, it's best to leave the caste and social hierarchy alone even if you've done your research. That doesn't mean you shouldn't talk about it, it's just that people, especially those of non-South Asian decent, have to be extremely careful about it. Introductory resources on the caste system can be found on ABC, Pew Research and The Conversation.

Furthermore, the automatic assumption is that people living in shacks or remote villages have no access to greater populations and resources, which I'm happy to completely disprove. Guys: majority of the people living in my village, a rather remote village, have phones on them. Ranges from iPhones to Androids to good ol' Nokias.

(And, side note: as an Indian, I get amazingly pissed off when people's ringtones are set to maximum volume and play the same famous part of a famous song every time they get a call. Like shut the fuck up. At least quieten down? Please??)

(Also this might be a South Indian thing but Man some people are so entitled. Dudes you do not need to rub your ego into my face. Dudes you can, you know, keep all the cool things you think will get other people jealous out of the public eye. At this point I'm not jealous of what you Have, I'm pissed off at the Audacity To Think You Can Make Me Feel Bad About Myself With The Things That You Have).

Alright. Moving on.

Tiny temples and shrines are everywhere, dedicated to broad-Hinduism deities like Ganesh, Shakthi, or Vishnu; other times, they are shrines built for local deities that protect a particular village. For example, my village dedicated a little plot of water-logged land to a benevolent spirit called Subbamma, where people would leave offerings or place their sick/injured animals at the water's edge so that Subbamma could heal them. These tiny temples are almost always super colourful and amazingly detailed despite their small size

It could be a whole month before a celebration like Diwali but it’s the perfect time to set off hundreds of fireworks and firecrackers. People are just inconsiderate in many ways, it seems.

Some women wear strings of jasmine flowers in their hair. This might be completely regional-based, but most if not all women, ranging from little kids to old ladies, will wear these strings of jasmine in their hair. It's supposed to represent good fortune and beauty, and it smells wonderful.

@esrev-redips: #i usually only visit the north side of india (went to banglore and or chennai once) but im pretty sure most women in mumbai wouldnt wear #flowers in their hair unless they were of an older generation #they dont in new delhi at least and i t h i n k you can compare them but im not sure since i dont live in india either Thank you esrev!!!!! glad to see an old hunch be confirmed!!!

Normally you can wear any type of jasmine, but the common subtypes in Tamil Nadu are ஜாதிமல்லி (jathimalli; "Spanish jasmine"; left) and மல்லிப்பூ (mallipoo; right).

Eating food from a plate made from a banana leaf is more than just an aesthetic, and is often reserved for certain occasions; other times we eat from metal or ceramic plates. I can't vouch for other areas of India but I've been told the reason why banana leaves are predominantly used for large gatherings is because they can signal to diners if the food is rotten or has been poisoned; supposedly the leaf itself starts rotting and releases liquid, but I personally have never seen this happen. But of course, there are also other reasons as to why banana leaves are used (all of which are valid) ranging from being an eco-friendly disposable plate, offloading nutrients into food, or even to make the food taste better. Pick whichever reason you like.

I'm literally so hungry looking at this. (Realises this is a Pavitr thing to say.) Anyway.

FOOD RECS!!!!!!

Reblog with your favourite foods >:) The list will be routinely updated...

JAGGERY COFFEE (from me) - GOOD FUCKING STUFF. ACTUALLY. if you see it.. GET IT IMMEDIATELY

PANI PURI (from @esrev-redips) - #also you forgot to mention the PANI PURI STANDS AHHHHHH YUMYUMYUM | RRRR YOU'RE SO RIGHT. PANI PURI FOR LIFE ACTUALLY.

JASUBEN PIZZA (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - okay this is specific to Ahmedabad | okay but as specific as it may be that sounds and looks delicious??? hello??????

DABELI (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - this too???? also it LOOKS wonderful i need it right now actually

VADA PAV (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - Also Vada pav from Mumbai is so one of a kind | you are absolutely correct. vada pav is truly something magnificent

I think that's about all I can give you right now. This took me a while to type out. Feel free to ask any questions, or if you have anything you would like to add on, like anything I might have glossed over or your favourite desi foods, please do!!! I'll be sure to reblog your addition and update the original post.

The point is that this post can become one of those few other reference posts that artists and writers and other creatives can use if they ever want to make anything related to India, because it's genuinely so cool to see your culture represented so well in popular modern media.

(And in fanfic and fandom. Especially in fanfic and fandom. you have no idea how many times I've gone insane reading a Pavitr-centric fic or reading comments on Pavitr-related posts and it's just outdated ideas and harmful stereotypes and all sorts of sick bullshit, and it's always to the point where I physically have to go outside and bite into a fresh rhizome in order to ground myself. Like damn, people, you need to know things before you start creating)

So uh, I hope this was helpful if not interesting! Happy early Diwali everyone! Knowledge-over-ignorance and all that; hopefully this post does that notion justice!

#pavitr prabhakar #wrote this solely because i wanted more atsv pavitr-centric fics and i need to get that specific immersed-in-india itch scratched #and also because the india i remembered decades ago is definitely not the india i visited last week #wow time flies doesn't it #spider man india #india #writing tips #o wise writer stuff #indian culture #south asian culture #spider man across the spider verse #atsv #across the spider verse #chaipunk #goldenpunk #cultural references #atsv pavitr #agnirambles

[musicoftheheart]

as promised, i present: “missed connections”

im still quite ill and my voice absolutely died by the second verse so the high notes sound awful, but i didnt want to make you guys wait any longer (im also not looking for criticism so id appreciate noone pointing out any flaws—its still a work in progress. and a reminder my pronouns are they/he/she :) )

i plan to wait until im properly rested and recovered before i send the song to her, but when i do you guys will be the first to know!

lyrics and context below the break

lyrics:

weve had a thousand missed connections but i still made it through to you

in other worlds we met before but no such luck for you—

and i, weve only just had our beginning

but im hoping that our end is years to come

both born part raised in england, both moved up here at just three

go to the same school but ill join six months after you leave

we share friends, but we're never introduced

so our lives two lines remain apart, side by side but never cross

we'll carry on without each other's heart

weve had a thousand missed connections but i still made it through to you

in other worlds we met before but no such luck for you—

and i, weve only just had our beginning

but im hoping that our end is years to come

now weve both moved onto high school but weve still missed one another

you almost joined me in our last years but one thing led to another

and you, you moved away to the big city

while i stayed here all alone

chasing loves who never loved me

not realising that ive yet to meet the one

weve had a thousand missed connections but ive still made it through to you

in other worlds we met before but no such luck for you—

and i, weve only just had our beginning

but im hoping that our end is years to come

i was an arrogant ass

you were loud and bold but hiding

somewhere along the way we changed

and suddenly we're minding—

our own business, when one day we met the one

now im sitting in my bedroom, writing down this song

weve had a thousand missed connections but i still made it through to you

in other worlds we met before but no such luck for you—

and i, weve only just had our beginning

but im hoping that our end is years to come

yeah im hoping that our end is years to come

background:

so, as the song says, throughout our lives weve had a bunch of 'missed connections', where we were a hair's breadth from meeting but just missed each other.

we were both born in england and moved to the same area of scotland at the same age, but i attended a different school at first. by the time i moved to the other school, she had just left six months before.

despite that, we shared a lot of the same friends, moreso as we got older but still a few when we were young. our friends mentioned us in passing to each other but not very often.

in high school, i had to transfer again because the school i went to didnt have the final two yeargroups, and she went through the same thing. it was planned that she and i would attend the same school, but there were some issues between her and a few other students that meant she had to go elsewhere.

now, we've both left school and ended up meeting online. we got talking and realised just how much in common we had (both took drama for only one year, in the same year [so if we'd have gone to the same high school, we wouldve definitely, no doubt about it, interacted through class], both enjoyed the same hobbies, had similar music taste etc) and then realised how many times we almost met.

then i went and had a crush, got overly attached, and wrote a song :)

#original music #music #songwriting #songwriter #singer songwriter #me singing #singer #guitar #queer community #queer love #lgbtqia

[dejablonde]

So I had to write a personal narrative for composition class. I wrote about post-ritual depression leading to a career change, and I thought ghumblr might enjoy. It's only 763 words (after padding it out with some extra academic phrasing) but I don't want to clog your feeds too much so it's below the cut.

"Have you ever like something so much that it rewired your brain?"

            Have you ever liked something so much that it rewired your brain? I can’t pinpoint exactly when I first heard the band called “Ghost,” but it was most likely sometime in 2022. I think the first video (from whichever of the dozen algorithms we get our content from today) pushed to my feed was their performance on Jimmy Kimmel, where they played their song Call Me Little Sunshine. I was taken aback by their theatrical look and sound. I listened to a few more songs, became a casual listener, and even bought their latest album when I came across it at Josey Records. What I can pinpoint, however, is the day I turned feral: April 9, 2023, Easter Sunday.

            Being only a casual listener still, I was curious as to what was going on when I saw that Ghost was trending on Tumblr. As I scrolled through the tag, it became more and more clear that, not only had they had dropped new music, but a new music video to match, almost entirely without warning: a cover of Phil Collins’ Jesus He Knows Me. Of course, I had to listen. From the driving intro into the first verse, to the poppy chorus, to the lyrics addressing hypocrisy from the church and its leaders, it was almost like twenty-eight years of religious trauma were healed in four minutes and five seconds, as if it were that easy. I wasn’t cured, but they certainly made a dent. I listened to it on repeat and branched into the rest of their discography.  After two weeks, I finally caved and bought myself a pit ticket to their upcoming Dallas tour date.

            When the day finally came, five months later, I could barely contain myself. I felt if I could leap hard enough, I would jump right out of my skin. I had taken advantage of the fact that I had the previous day off from work and pretended that I was taking a small trip for Labor Day. This allowed me the day off for the concert. My employers already think I’m strange enough; I didn’t see any need to make it worse by asking for time off to line up for a concert by a Satanic rock band hours early on a Tuesday. Despite the 103-degree weather that day, I made it to the general admission line around noon. I chatted with my new line buddies over the next several hours about the band, how we got into them, and a little bit about our lives in general over the water that the venue security provided. For the first time in a while, I was surrounded by people like me.

            They say that concerts can be a religious experience. I’m not sure I agree, but they’re not exactly wrong. It really is overwhelming, or at least can be. Many aspects are similar, if not the same. Between the community and camaraderie with your fellow “congregants” and the feeling of the music all the way down to your bones, there’s certainly something that happens internally. This concert (or ritual, as Ghost fans lovingly call them) was no exception. After all, when you’re a stone’s throw away from your obsession, bathed in light and confetti, you can’t help but feel a little changed.

            Post-concert depression is a very real and powerful force. It’s even stronger when you come back to work after finally feeling happy and rested only to be met with snideness not even fifteen minutes into the day. I was already dealing with years of declining morale. I wanted to be happy again, like I was the night before. I started looking at job postings immediately. I nearly got one in the same field but interviewed poorly. Eventually, I decided to make up for lost time and try to make a move into what my high-school-aged-self wanted. Or at least something close. Unfortunately, even though apprenticeship-type situations are common in the music industry, it’s very hard to break in without any kind of provable experience. I looked into some recording technology schools but didn’t really feel the need to go into debt on a loan for them. I was about to lose hope, but then I had a lightbulb moment and found that Dallas College has a program for Recording Technology. My application and registration were late in the game, but I was able to squeeze in before the start of this semester. Now, I’m finally doing something I want to do, and it’s all thanks to a funky little Swede in black and white makeup.

#the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus i #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #tobias forge #toblerone fudge #tender father #post-concert depression #DejaBlonde #my writing

[red-velvet-0w0]

hi so I keep coming up with really cool ideas for life series animatics, but the only problem is I do not have the resources/time/skill to make any of them, so I'm just gonna write one of them down here so I can get it out of my head

If any of you guys want to make this for yourselves, be my guest, I would just be happy to have been able to inspire people

Song: Blood and Whiskey (High Noon Over Camelot)

By: the Mechanisms

Takes place right before session 7 with grian, etho, and cleo. Arthur is Grian, Lancelot is Etho, and Guinevere is Cleo. Lancelot's first verse is Etho, trying to cheer everybody up from the downer of the last episode. when he mentions the "preacher mans cursed crusade" it shows a picture of the secret keeper and her tasks. Grian then buts in, advising caution, almost sensing the impending carnage of the apocalypse with the Arthur verse. of the "with you and Guinevere I know we wont be beat" he pulls them in by the neck (I don't know what its called but you guys know what I'm talking about the thing where its like a hug but you just have your arm around their neck). then as the music kicks into high gear and there are no lyrics, it cuts to either gem slowly being taken by the curse or just a snapshot of each individual team waiting for the session to start. then it cuts back to Cleo for the Guinevere part, where they down a cup of whiskey and sing about how they're going to kill everybody together. on the "but I can't shake the feeling we're not coming back again" you can see Grian growing slowly more concerned/using his watcher powers and slowly realizing how much shit is about to go down. not sure what happens during the instrumentals after Guinevere's bit, theres an explosion sound at one point (maybe tnt going off or somebody going out)(idk), but when we go back to Arthurs section, it is Grian singing about how he wishes he could save the world with his powers, but things only seem to be getting further and further out of his control. Cleo knocks him out of it with "quit your whinging Arthur or your wounds wont heal", with a flash to Grians broken fragments/fractures. "and the vulture their a-circling they'll get their meal" with a flashback to a canary circling down onto jimmy right as he gets hit by the warden. Immediately into "we can mourn the dead later until then don't feel" showing Lizzie, Mumbo, and Jimmy chilling and watching from above. then the "just clean the wounds with bloody rags and whiskey" brings us right back to the 3 of them preparing for what is to come, before the song ends.

#high noon over camelot #traffic life #life series #secret life #grian #zombie cleo #ethoslab #traffic smp #trafficblr