#would my English teacher be proud or horrified?

[queens-of-spirits]

Why the svsss papapa scenes are literary genius actually, Part 1:

So, fun fact, I originally wanted to do a funny little post where I ranked the four papapa scenes in svsss (with special mention to the start of the return to childhood extra and LMY’s writing) but my deranged ass decided to go full quirky English prof and turn this shit into a proper analysis.

So, believe it or not, the svsss papapa scenes are actually really important for understanding a lot of the characters and themes of the story. So yes. I am going to go through them all and explain why. Starting with…

Maigu Ridge (spoilers, obviously):

If this were actually my silly rankings post (which I still may make), Maigu ridge would rank dead last in any category related to actually being an enjoyable smut scene to read. That’s fine, because, to put it bluntly, that wasn’t the point.

It’s a subversion of the pressure and idea of the perfect first time or instinctive sexual skill seen in both power fantasy and romance/bl novels. That subversion and the shock of what happens is meant to take us out of the scene and make us think about the characters, the situation, and the tropes we take for granted. Remember, svsss is genre savvy twice over, both in Danmei/bl and power fantasy fiction. It explores both those worlds and the complicated aspects of both (I.e the obsession with revenge). It’s not trying to be a good smut scene, it’s setting up the characterization of the couple and the character arc seen throughout the rest of the papapa moments in the extras (more on that in future posts, but it’s about SQQ learning to be more open with his desire and pleasure) and exemplifying the main themes of the book (forgiveness and intention)

So without further ado, here is my analysis on this scene.

The notes about SQQ’s character in the Maigu Ridge scene should be obvious and understood by looking at the broad context of the scene. Like the Without a Cure moment, it shows how much he cares for LBH and his willingness to put his own life and body on the line to save him. It is devotion, pure and simple. However, more depth is revealed when examining specific passages (note all quotes are from the English publications because I don’t speak Chinese, so I’m sorry if the translation muddled the meaning).

The most vital part to me for Binghe’s character is this line:

“he’d done this out of consideration for Luo Binghe’s convenience, but unexpectedly he was flipped back around. Luo Binghe jammed himself between Shen Qingqiu’s legs, his entire attention rapt on Shen Qingqiu’s face.”

This refers to how SQQ tries to turn around so that LBH would not see his face during what is about to happen and LBH flipping him over again.

This, I believe is symbolic. SQQ turns around because he thinks that anyone will do and he is the only one willing, but that’s not true LBH wants SQH specifically. He needs to relieve the energy from the sword’s influence, yes, but despite that pain, he is focused solely on SQQ’s face.

The transformation from the stallion protagonist Bingge to our Bingmei is exemplified here better than any scene before it (I would argue it is later topped by the Bingge vs Bingmei extra). Unlike Binghe, Bingmei is not looking for mindless pleasure to escape his lonely life (represented here by the corrupting energy of the sword) he is seeking the one he adores above all, the one who he cares for more than anything. He has found true connection and THAT is what drives him to madness (remember, he’s trying to destroy everything to be the only one in SQQ’s world so he can’t be abandoned). That’s why, even when supposedly in a mad state, he seeks to look at SQQ’s face, because it isn’t about the sex, it’s about them, the two of them together.

The other vital part is the aftermath, before even the jade pendant. Specifically, this exchange:

“Shizun don’t hate me…I didn’t know…I never wanted to hurt you…why didn’t you push me away? Why didn’t you kill me?”

“This master knows. This master was willing”

Again, this was an act not born out of lust, like with Bingge and his wives, but something different. Bingge takes what he wants and feels no guilt because nothing was ever given to him, but Bingmei was given the world by one person and struggles with not feeling like, with not BEING the animal or monster that the rest of the world sees him as’

LBH had no intention to hurt SQQ

Just like how SQQ had no intention to hurt him by avoiding him

It’s symbolic of their relationship as a whole. Unintentional hurt and the forgiveness that follows. THATS why the remaining papapa scenes are so important. It’s about them learning to not hurt each other. Every single papapa scene that follows builds on this idea of them learning the right way to love each other (remember, their story together is just beginning after the last page of the book) and learning how to not hurt each other unintentionally, LBH physically, SQQ emotionally.

Again, clear themes of forgiveness and intention. The reasons behind why people do bad things (hence the focus on SJ and TLJ as complex characters) and the act of forgiveness and learning from mistakes, which I argue are the two main themes of SVSSS

So while Maigu ridge is terrible in terms of being an enjoyable scene to read, that was not it’s purpose. It’s purpose was to utilize the tropes of both Danmei and male fantasy to take us out of those genres (where first times always go well) and get us to THINK about the characters and why they do what they do, their intentions.

#bingqiu #svsss #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #luo bingge #luo bingmei #maigu ridge #scum villains self saving system #scum villian self saving system #papapa #SQQ #LBH #analysis #of things that maybe should not be #would my English teacher be proud or horrified? #you decide

[backingupwards]

Juxtapose me, Daddy

#shitpost #english #literary #my english teacher would be proud #actually no #they’d be horrified

[palfriendpatine66]

Currently giving myself a crash course lesson on when to use the past perfect tense. My high school English teacher would simultaneously be so proud and so horrified to discover why

#this was the answer to when am I ever going to use this that I never saw coming #writing problems #fanfic writing #when they told me to get a hobby i don’t think this is what they had in mind #writing myself out of depression

[teachandwrite-blog]

Notes From Public School 2022-2023 Day 5

“Do you ever think about leaving the teaching profession, about not being a teacher anymore?” asked a friend yesterday at one of my favorite places in Greenville, The Whale.

This is a dangerous question to ask a teacher during the first week of school.

I’m not a statistician (I’m an ELA guy, you know) but I’d guess the answer to that question would be a hard “YES” 100% of the time.

But I march to the beat of a different drum.

Always have and probably always will.

So I answered “No.”

It was a soft no, though.

I’m made of the dust of the ground, and I was certainly feeling walked on (stomped on?) after a long day in the classroom.

So my friend had to lean her ear close to me and ask, “What did you say?” when I said no.

It was more of a whisper than a thunderclap.

But “no” it was and, as I lay on my couch and this late Friday afternoon and reflect on my week, “no” it still is.

I’m not thinking about leaving the teaching profession.

I still want to be a teacher, even in this my 15th year of teaching.

Maybe the reason is somewhere in this self portrait I share with my students every year.

I’ll share it with you.

Self portrait:

My name is Trevor Scott Barton.

I was born and raised here in Greenville, S.C.

I went to Taylors Elementary School, in the same building where my grandpa, my mom and my dad went to high school.

When I was in 4th grade, I sat in an old, wooden, slat backed chair in front a wooden desk (probably the chair and desk at which my grandpa sat and learned all of those years ago).

During the first week of school, I stood up to go to the pencil sharpener.

A nail in the seat of the chair caught the pocket on the seat of my blue jeans and tore it off.

You could see my boxer shorts.

Oh the embarrassment!

I will always remember my teacher, Mrs. Ferguson, a beautiful Black woman who had come to my school to teach by way of a court order to desegregate public schools in South Carolina.

She wrapped me in her jacket, helped me laugh through that horrifying moment, and took me to the office so I could call my Mom and ask her to bring me another pair of jeans.

I want to be kind and helpful like her.

I went to college at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

I loved to read and write.

Still do.

My family and friends told me I was a good writer.

They believed in me more than I did.

I majored in English there.

I had some of the smartest, most accomplished Reading and Writing professors in the country.

Once, I sat in the office of one of those professors, my favorite teacher, Dr. Reid.

He had a bust of Ernest Hemingway on his desk.

He looked up from a story I had written for our class and looked out at me me.

"You kind of write like him," he said as he nodded his head toward Hemingway.

"So clear, concise and compassionate.

I am proud to be your teacher."

I want to say something to someone that would mean as much to them as those words meant to me.

Robin and I lived in the country of Mali in West Africa for three years.

One of our best friends was Momadu.

He was a cook for our mission compound.

He is one of the most humble, beautiful people I have ever met.

I’ll always remember his worn, dirty flip-flops laying on the ground in front of the door of our community house.

In Mali, flip-flops cost less than a dollar.

That doesn't seem like much money to most of us.

If my flip-flops were like his flip-flops, I would throw them away and buy a new pair.

One dollar, however, can buy three days of vegetables to put into a family's sauce, so when Momadu's flip-flop straps broke, he repaired them and kept on wearing them until they were worn completely out (and by that I mean returned to dust).

In the same way, Momadu keeps on loving and serving.

One day, on my birthday on May 13, Momadu met me at the door of the kitchen with a bright smile on his face and a twinkling light in his eyes.

"Close your eyes," he said.

He took my hand and led me to the table.

"Open your eyes," he said again.

I looked and there, on the table, was cheddar cheese meatloaf and French apple pie.

(How was he able to make those things in one of the most remote parts of the world? Well, that’s another story)

My favorite meal!

I want to be a friend like that.

Robin and I have 2 boys, Bakary Isaiah, who is a senior at The Citadel and has my African name, and Peter Ezekiel, who a freshman at the University of South Carolina in Columbia and has the name Peter because of my favorite character in my favorite picture book, The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats.

Bakary loves to fish, play soccer, and lift weights.

Zeke loves to dance, play video games, and hang out with friends.

I love them and have spent their whole lives helping them learn and helping them become themselves.

As your teacher, I love you and want to help you learn and become yourself, too.

Yep, I think I’ll keep on being a teacher.

[toytulini]

Me, vibrating bc im full of Caffeine, kinda has to pee: "pls let me word vomit a brief essay of my thougts on practical applications of algae to create sustainable alternatives to plastic, Coral and how fucking cool it is, Donald Trump and how to make him a marginally better person, not enough to ever actually redeem him but potentially enough that more ppl survive to see him out of office and we stop actively destroying our planet, and the history of clowns and origins of coulrophobia and its relations to the cultural impact of the popular novel by Stephen King and both of the film adaptation of said novel, It,"

#toy txt post #donald Trump mention #clown mention #ill post em in a bit #im gonna go to the bathroom first and try to find breakfast #i dont know if my english teachers would be proud or horrified

[itsallavengers]

Your tag on that "Actually he's the boss" post made me laugh out loud, brilliant ~ star anon

TRUE QUOTES FROM TONY STARK I DON’T MAKE THE RULES I WAS MERELY INFERRING FROM THE TEXT

#My english teacher would be proud #well #horrified first #but deep down #she'd be proud i can tell #Anonymous

[ikemen-girl]

Hello, sweety! I don't know if you're currently taking up request or not (please don't mind this ask if you're not doing it right now ^^). I'm a teacher and seeing how Mitsuhide teaches MC in his route, may I request you for a HC of Mitsuhide finds out that his MC is a teacher as well in her future life? I really want to know how he would react on that. Thank you for visiting my blog beforehand and hoping you a wonderful upcoming weekend! ✨🍀

Hellooooo dear 😍😍♥️♥️, thank you very much for this interesting request 🥰💗! I am also aspiring to become a teacher in few years so I am very glad to meet you😍😍! And I would like to say that you are an amazing artist👏🙌! I hope you also have a great weekend💃🌹! So, here we go😉~

Ikesen Headcanon⚔💗

Mitsuhide reacting to a MC being a Teacher👩‍🏫:

You loved teaching children😍❤ but you ended up in the sengoku era while travelling to Kyoto on a school trip with your students & other teachers leaving a very good life in the modern era😩 & accidentally saved Nobunaga's life to your surprise & Mitsuhide took a special interest in you👀 & his mind-reading skills used to freak you out😨.

You were honestly terrified after stepping on the battlefield for the first time in your life😱 when you have been always surrounded by the laughter & twinkling eyes of children and you were missing it terribly😭, to top it all, the shock of seeing a man die infront of your eyes was too overwhelming, so you fell unconscious😵 & Mitsuhide carried you back in Azuchi Castle.

"Starting from tomorrow, I will be your teacher, little mouse, for the subject matters, I think, tactics, equestrianism, self defense, firearms seems a good start😏!", said Mitsuhide with a huge smirk on his face.

"I hope you will be a good pupil, little mouse🐭!", said Mitsuhide as he stood and gave you a head-pat.

"Pffffttttt, I am waiting for that moment", you murmured, chuckling to yourself🤭.

"Did you say something?", asked Mitsuhide turning back to look at her.

"I am looking forward for tomorrow, Mitsuhide-sensei, goodnight😅!", she straighten up with a slight bow. Mitsuhide smiled at her🙂 and goes outside the room.

"His smile creeps me out, well, nevermind. I am excited to see the surprise on his face tomorrow😁", she let out a huge grin.

"Before starting up on the actual studies, I would like to test your knowledge base, here is your questions sheet, fill it up, little mouse📝!", said Mitsuhide as he gave her the question paper with a smirk on his face😏.

You took it, pretending to be afraid of the test making him amused, "Go on, little mouse, it's not that difficult, I assure you!", he said with a amused grin on his face😄. As you look down at the questions on Japanese literature, history & general knowledge, on the inside, you were so happy 💃while on the outside, you kept a face of a child who is horrified at the thought of giving an exam😱.

You submitted your answer sheet to him and as Mitsuhide scanned it, his eyes went wide with shock😲, he was NOT expecting this at all. You honestly wished that you have a camera 📷 to capture his expression which was so funny to say the least. Each & every answer was correct💯.

"How😳?", it's the only word that came out his mouth. You couldn't control anymore & burst out laughing loudly🤣. "Because I am also a teacher, Mitsuhide👩‍🏫", you said with a proud look on your face. "What😳?", he was left speechless once again which only made it harder for you to control your laughter.

"You really surprised me there, little mouse😅!", Mitsuhide laughs along with you to hide his flustered expression. "So, what do you teach🤔?", he asked, curious to know about you.

"Let's see, I mainly teach japanese literature & history, apart from it, I am well versed in general knowledge, english literature, I love art, psychology, etc, so if any child wants to learn it, I teach these skills to them as well with full excitement as being around them & seeing them grow in their lives makes me so happy🤩❤!", you said with a biggest smile on your face🥰 & eyes shining with happiness since you came to this era👀✨. Mitsuhide was, to be very honest, awestruck seeing your genuine happiness☺️.

As much as Mitsuhide didn't want to interrupt you, but he grew suspicious of your origin as being this educated in this era was surprisingly rare especially in something like english literature🤔. "Who are you & where are you from, mysterious little mouse? Tell me all your secrets, little one", he asked, narrowing his gaze at you👀.

You froze for a moment😳 as you knew very well that you have raised his suspicions when you were rambling non-stop😬 & you couldn't lie or else you will be in huge trouble😓. "Why should I tell you when you are also a potential "traitor" in Oda forces infront of everyone, hm?", you asked jokingly trying to avoid the question😅. "Little mouse, I am used to prying out the secrets and I would not prefer to use the same techniques on you", he said with a frown on his face🤨 unknown to him but you noticed the discomfort in his expression & sighed.

So you showed him your purse👜 and told him everything about yourself as Mitsuhide listened patiently. "So our little mouse came from 500 years in the future, it's hard to believe but you have proof with yourself, now I can see the reason how you are so innocent & untouched by the realities of this time", said Mitsuhide with a amused smirk😏.

"I have only told you the truth, rest is up to you to believe in me", you said with a pout☹.

"Don't pout, I believe in you, little one, as you have been a very nice girl, I will treat you with tea & sweets🍵🍡 as a reward, little mouse", Mitsuhide said caressing your cheek with his thumb😏. You honestly couldn't stop yourself from smiling after hearing the offer😍.

Mitsuhide was overcome with affection for her as she believed in him as a person despite having her doubts and confided in him with everything, he made a secret vow to himself to protect her from everything❤.

You both went to the teahouse together & suddenly Kyubei called Mitsuhide for giving some urgent information. Mitsuhide excused himself for a moment while you were happily eating your sweets😍, but then, you heard some men were talking bad things about him behind his back & you couldn't stand seeing & listening something wrong so you strongly defended him infront of them😡, not caring for the fact that you had no weapons on yourself, one of the men tried to hit you but Mitsuhide arrived in time to rescue you from them😎.

So this started the strong feeling of love in heart of Mitsuhide towards you😍💓💞 as nobody has ever done something like this for him, he was so impressed by the fact that you strongly stood for your values proving your strength of sense of justice as a teacher & a good person by heart☺️💯.

He continued training you in survival skills like self defense, horseriding, shooting as you were already were well-versed in theory. In exchange, you would definitely teach him english literature & tell him about many fascinating things about the human mind & everything you know about future along with many other things😍, you both loved spending time with each other and always look forward to such meetings everyday.

Once, you were well trained in these skills, you gave your gratitude towards your "teacher" Mitsuhide by gifting him a very beautiful portrait✍❤ of him playing with his pet fox, Chimaki🦊. He couldn't resist hugging you tightly the moment, he laid his eyes on it🤗💗. You yourself was the biggest & the most precious gift for him in his life but your gift made him the most happiest person💓😢, he would definitely try to hide his happiness with a amused smirk & headpat but you can see through his facade that he is genuinely happy🥰. He would definitely put the portrait in such a place where everyone could see his little mouse's amazing skills😎😏.

After facing many difficulties together, you both confessed your feelings towards each other💐 and you both were a lovely couple infront of everyone😍👫💗.

You would both use knowledge of english as a medium for infiltration as spies together in other territories🧐. Surprisingly, a language, i.e., english, became a special kind of exchange & secret code between you☺️ and Mitsuhide😏 as you both would often converse in english infront of other warlords much to their surprise & confusion🙄😳🤔.

As you were always willing to stay by his side, he used to take you along to infiltrate certain places, your skill of art would definitely come as a big help for Mitsuhide💯, as you could easily draw the suspects making his workload way more easier than it was before✍😌.

In exchange, Mitsuhide would always make sure that you were not uncomfortable in such investigation trips, he would always give you tips in dancing, singing, acting, etc 🤗 and also expect loads of teasings while he is at it, fufufufu😘.

You both being the best teachers around in Azuchi would definitely use this opportunity to teach as many children as possible who don't have access to proper education without asking for anything in return as you both did it for your own self-satisfaction & happiness in your free times💛. Mitsuhide generally taught the skills of self defense🤼‍♂️, weaponry🔫, etc while you would educate the kids in literatures, general knowledge & art👩‍🏫. Children would also always look forward to meeting both of you everyday🥰❤🤗. It became one of your most favourite & productive ways to spend time with each other❤. Children also ships you both together, mind you👀❤🤭!

Mitsuhide loved the way your eyes sparkles with happiness👀✨ whenever you are around the children🥰😘❤ and can't help falling more deeply in love with you😍💓.

He would always praise you infront of everyone, everytime he gets a chance😏. Cue warlords- We know that already, Mitsuhide, you just told us🤦‍♂️. Mitsuhide: Hooooh~But not that...😏 endless praise begins & he shuts up only when you take him outside the council room dying of embarrasment😳🙈🤦‍♀️ to which he only laughs loudly🤣😏.

Mitsuhide would often call you "my brilliant little mouse💯🐭!", as his way of showing affection towards you💗😏. Cue you blushing deep shade of red tomato and running away from him😳🙈🍅.

Extra~

"You really love her, huh?", asked Hideyoshi as he was walking down the hallways😆. "Obviously, I love her with all my heart💗, she is the brightest star of my life🌟!", said Mitsuhide, his eyes filled with love and a beautiful smile on his face.

"Was that a genuine smile on your face, Mitsuhide?!", exclaimed Hideyoshi, shocked😲.

"My, My, Hideyoshi, I don't have any idea what you are talking about😏", said Mitsuhide as he realised that his facade broke their for a moment out of his love for you. Hideyoshi *eye twitch* : whatever🙄!

Mitsuhide then went looking for you to tease and shower you with all his love & affection❤😏.

Hope, you all enjoyed it❤😍🤗. Comments are appreciated😇!

#ikesen mitsuhide #akechi mitsuhide #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #teacher #ikesen headcanons #otome games #ikemen series #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen nobunaga

[so-small]

Connor Murphy x Reader: Dear Other Hansen: Part 1

words: 1,643

warnings: fight, slight harassment by a pervy football player

It was the first day of your senior year and your mom was giving the same speech to you and Evan that she gave every year. Growing up twins you shared everything: your anxiety, your interest in nature, your love-hate relationship with Jared, and your clear disdain for this speech. 'This year would be different, it's a new start- a clean slate. She's so proud of you already.'

"Oh and Evan, (Y/N)? I made you an appointment with for today, I'll come buy and pick you guys up after school. Make sure you guys have letters to yourself, the doctor expects you to have some." 

"We have an appointment for next week though, mom?" Evan questioned, worried that he overestimated the amount of time he could put off writing his letter.

"I thought you could use something a little sooner. I love you guys! Have a good first day, and remember if you guys need anything at all, call me. Bye," with that she was out the door.

Evan looked to you, and then down at his hands. "(Y/N), I still haven't written anything..."

"I know," you sighed, running your hands through your hair, "I haven't either. We were supposed to have another week." Procrastination. That was another trait you shared. You were well aware that it would only make the task at hand more daunting, but sometimes it was just more convenient to watch TV than do work.

"And we still have to take the bus. It's our senior year, and we're the only seniors who still have to ride the bus. Everyone is going to think we're losers."

"...What if we just walk?" You suggested, to which Evan responded to by nodding vigorously. You grabbed your stuff and the two of you began walking.

It was warm outside, but cloudy. Evan and you were talking about the normal stuff. He was talking about working at the park, and you were talking about hanging out with Zoe- another thing you had in common- who you had befriended one day at the mall at the beginning of the summer. You had been at American Eagle, trying to find the perfect outfit to boost your confidence. Zoe had seen you, said hi, and proceeded to help choose the cutest outfit you had ever seen. Ever since then, Zoe and you were good friends. Evan always loved hearing you talk about her, because he felt like he knew her better when you did. 

Finally, you arrived at school. Evan walked over to talk with Alana and then Jared, trying aimlessly to get them to sign his cast. Zoe had came over to you as soon as she saw you arrive to school, upset about the morning she had "-and then he finished the milk! Dry cereal was not how I wanted to start my first day back."

"Maybe he's just on his man period?" You didn't want to admit it, but Connor always intrigued you. He never looked like he was the same guy who Zoe complained about, or the rumors that spread across the school. He just looked out-of-place, which is how you felt most of the time. He didn’t look like he could be that much of a dick. Back in grade school, you had been in bed with the flu when Connor presumably threw a printer. After hearing little Evan cry for three hours after school about it- not because he was scared or even angry- because the teacher was printing out a coloring page for him, and he never got it. 

"Then he would have been menstruating since he was twelve-" Zoe was interrupted by hearing Connor yelling. She turned the corner to see him screaming at Evan and Jared scurrying off. "Oh no."

"Why are you laughing? Stop fucking laughing! I'm not the freak! You're the fucking freak!" Connor pushed Evan down and ran off sulking.

Zoe and you rushed over to Evan to make sure he was okay. You'd talked to her enough about Evan for her to know that he wasn't going to take this well. You were freaking out, both worried about Evan and horrified that he had already been pushed on the first day. The bell rung and Zoe went her separate way, while Evan rambled on, "-and then she introduced herself to me! Did you see that? It was so magical. Well, it would have been if I hadn't screwed it up."

"You'll be okay Evan. She's a sweet girl, she's not going to judge you. Especially since Connor was involved. What class do you have?"

"Stats, what about you?"

"English, see you at lunch or something?" You hugged Evan as tight as you could headed to class.

---

When you arrived to class, you took a seat in the back corner, relieved that you were in your favorite teacher’s class this year. Mr. Sinclair was half way done with the syllabus when Connor Murphy walked in. He walked to the back of the class room, but there were only two seats left. One by the captain of the football team, Derek, and the other next to you. He choose to sit next to you.

Not long after Mr. Sinclair was done with the syllabus, he announced that there would be a group project. “Your partners will be your table buddies. You will choose a book, and make a project on it. I emailed the requirements, but keep in mind that the books need to be appropriate. Derek you can join whatever group you.”  Mr. Sinclair then let everyone start working on the project. You were sitting with your hands cupped on the desk, staring down at them. You didn't know what to do. Sure, you'd seen Connor around at the Murphy's house, but he never really said anything more than the greetings his mom forced him to say. Other than that, all you knew about him were the rumors, what Zoe said about him, and that he'd hurt Evan earlier that day.

"(Y/N), right?" A voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You nodded, recognizing it as Connor's voice. "You're related to the kid with the cast and the polo?"

"-Evan, he's my twin." You didn't know why he was asking this. You’d been in the same grade level and classes as Connor since kindergarten, and even if you never personally spoke to Connor, you were sure he already knew these things.

"So you're going to go ask if we can just separate projects," You couldn't tell if this was a question or a command. "I mean, you're brother thinks I'm a freak, so why would you want to do a project with me."

"Evan does not think that, I promise."

Connor's voice got louder, "Yeah? Then why was he fucking laughing at me with Kleinman earlier?"

Your heart began race, and you began stuttering. Your face must have shown traces of anxiety because Connor's angry gaze softened slightly. He reached his hand toward your hand, but he was blocked by a figure.

“What do you think you’re doing, Murphy?” 

“Go away Derek.” The same amount Connor’s eye softened at the sight of your anxiety, they hardened when he saw Derek. 

“Were you going to hurt her?”

“Go. Away. Derek.”

“No can do. I’ve decided to be (Y/N)’s partner.” Derek slung his arm around your shoulders as you stiffened.

Connor was visibly getting more annoyed by the minute, “That would mean that your my partner too, go find a different set of partners.”

“Babycakes wants me here.” A smirk spread across his face. You were growing more uncomfortable, and were silenced by shock and disgust.  “No, she doesn’t. Neither do I, so don’t make me-”

“Make you do what? I’ve already decided. (Y/N), call me when you want to meet up for the project, sweetie.” Your face grew ten shades of red as you involuntarily grabbed onto Connor’s arm and scooted closer to him. Connor took one look at your shaky, nervous frame and lunged into action.

Connor drove his fist into Derek’s face, and Derek did the same. It was a blur as you gaped at the two men fighting, feeling a panic attack coming on, and before you knew it they were being pulled apart by Mr. Sinclair and two other teachers who had been called in. The teachers escorted Connor and Derek to the office. Mr. Sinclair pulled you outside the classroom and sat with you until your panic died down, “Are you okay, Ms. Hansen?” You nodded. “Did Mr. Murphy hurt you?” 

It took a moment to process what he said. “Connor didn’t do anything, Mr. Sinclair. Derek was making some,” you sighed, “comments about me that made me feel creeped out. I think Connor saw I was uncomfortable and tried to defend me.” 

Mr. Sinclair pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ms. Hansen, if what your saying is true, we need to get you down to the office so they don’t blame this on Connor.” Mr. Sinclair took you to the office just as the principal was getting ready to suspend Connor and release Derek. Mr. Sinclair reiterated what you had told him, and you confirmed it. Derek protested, trying to say that you were making it up.

“Very well,” the principal raised his hand to stop Derek, “Ms. Hansen has never given me any reason to not believe her. That, and last year three students came forward about you, Derek. I’m afraid I have no choice but to suspend you for a week and put you on probation from football until further notice. Connor, I’m going to let you off with a warning, and send you home for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, I will trust that you will not do this again, or you will be suspended.” Connor shook his head, and left without another word. 

---

A/N- I’m not sure how long this series is going to be, but we’ll see. 

#connor murphy x reader #dear evan hansen #evan hansen #connor murphy #alex boniello #mike faist #dear evan hansen x reader #jared kleinman #zoe murphy #heidi hansen #larry murphy #cynthia murphy #alana

[knackerman]

Hey KnackerMan if this is a hard question to be asked, feel free to change the subject.

What was your experience hearing about what was happening in new york 20 years ago when America was attacked?

This is a hard question for me to answer, but probably not for the reasons one might expect. I actually really don't like my answer, and part of me thinks I'm making a huge mistake for answering this honestly, but I do not want to lie. Maybe it would be better if I just stayed silent then, you might say, but that doesn't feel right either. So I'll answer this, but if you think less of me for it- well, I probably deserve it.

Let me preface this by saying that I was in high school twenty years ago.

I must have been a sophomore or junior and I was kind of a little shit-head. It would not be inaccurate to say that I was something of a goth/punk dweeb. We're talking all black ripped up cloths, black combat boots, black trench-coat, black nail polish, spiked collars, and elaborate Egyptian/skull and cross bones jewelry - the whole nine yards. I also carried around a duffle bag instead of a backpack just on the off chance I might make someone nervous - just to push them that little bit further. I didn't exactly go around kicking puppies or anything, but I thought it was funny if I made someone nervous or scared and I enjoyed giving the school administration a hard time.

I hated the world and everyone in it.

I am not proud of any of this, but that's the kind of person I was at the time.

Now, considering I was the type to rebel against pretty much any authority figure you happened to put in front of me and had a very casual and twisted philosophy concerning death, you might be able to hazard a guess as to how I responded to finding out that the World Trade Center (a place I associated with wall-street shitbags and their corrupt government puppets) had been blown up.

I didn't spare a thought for any of the innocent people involved or their families. When my English teacher told us the first tower had collapsed, my only response was, 'good' - She gave me such a horrified and concerned look that even though I was as I said, a shithead, I immediately stammered out something lame about it being 'better that the building had collapsed than fallen over on any of the nearby buildings'. It was pretty clear she didn't entirely buy it, but I didn't say anything else about it so neither did she.

(As much of an asshole as I was at the time, I actually didn't hate my English teacher all that much. She was the only other Edger Alan Poe fan that I knew, or had ever met in our little town, and I didn't really want her to realize just exactly how ambivalent I was to all human suffering except my own bullshit drama).

I'd like to say that over the days and weeks that followed I learned the error of my ways, came to appreciate the sheer enormity of what had taken place, and felt a swell of patriotic pride for the heroic men and women who worked so hard to save what lives they could on that terrible day - But I would be lying. The truth is I never really grew out of the whole 'goth phase' like everyone expected me to, and it took me a long-long time to start to develop anything like empathy or concern for my fellow man. (Sometime after I might my now wife, but that's a story for another time.)

I know for those that lost their lives or their loved ones, 9-11 was everything. A day that they could never forget even if they wanted to. For those uninvolved but with even a shred of human decency what happened was shocking, terrifying, and something that should always be remembered. For me, it was just one (admittedly surprisingly successful) terrorist attack out of thousands that were occurring all over the world all the time and there was nothing special about it except it happened in the United States - specifically New York - somewhere people had thought that they were safe, for some unknown reason. Bare in mind I was also alive for the Oklahoma City Bombing, the fall of the Branch Davidian Compound, and The Troubles in Ireland. There was a lot of bad stuff going down in the years before 9-11, so the response to me seemed like it was blown a little bit out of proportions, even though admittedly the suddenness and number of lives lost was staggering.

Having said that, to a degree I still think that its a little overblown.

'Patriot Day' is the most bizarre holiday for me given all the evil that came out of it (The Patriot Act, Guantanamo Bay, the formation of Homeland Security and the TSA, the two decades of blood spilled in Afghanistan) I sometimes think that everyone else is remembering things happening in a way that I simply don't. They seem to have taken away some grand nationalist message that for me rings incredibly hollow. The whole ritual and pageantry of the thing plays out not unlike the Two Minutes Hate, with everyone crowding around to express sentiments that we're encouraged and compelled to join in with even if it's not something we feel ourselves.

So that's the long way around to saying that my experience with hearing about the attack was stupid, awkward, and confusing - my memories more than a little colored by my own idiotic drama and disdain not just for my government, my country, and its people, but myself as well.

The slogan is 'Never Forget', but I really wish I did not remember.

[arcadianstuff]

School rivals p.t 6

Next chapter is up !! Hope you enjoy

—————————-

To caught up in their own argument, your family didn’t notice you slip away from the living room whilst Toby and Claire were being distracted by the fight unfolding before them.

So quietly, you scampered out of the house, regretting not changing your clothes as you stepped out into the cold morning air. Finally, the sun had begun to rise bathing the world in her glorious golden glow. It made Douxie's eyes gleam as he turned to look up at you with an unexpectedly angry expression, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes gleaming with fury.

Hesitantly, you took a few steps towards him, stopping a metre in front of him. A lone bird swept up to the sky, as the two of you stared at each other on the street. Nobody else was up and about yet, the silence deafening. Desperate to say something or anything you went to speak, only for Douxie to completely lose his shit.

"I can’t believe you. I-I seriously can’t undertand what the fuck you think you were doing ?!" His voice rose in volume, going from a hateful whisper to angry shouts. He struggled to contain his fury any longer. From the moment his eyes had fallen on your returned form, he’d been both overwhelmed with happiness and anger. Part of him wanted to scream at you and the other just wanted to reach out and touch you, to make sure you were real.

"D-douxie.." you began to whisper, reaching out a hand which he only swatted away, the gesture stinging not only physically but mentally. His glare pierced right through to your soul. You’d seen him annoyed before, angry maybe. But never furious. Not like this.

Inside of you, you felt your own patience shortening. Much like a candle being lit a sudden burst of anger came over you.

"You know what ! I saved you and my brother so you could at least be grateful for that ! You selfish piece of shit !" The distance between you closed, as you grabbed the collar of his jacket and practically shoved your face into his. His own hands came up to your shoulders, and the two of you glared at each other with such hatred and emotion it felt like you were on fire.

"Grateful ? Grateful ?" He let out a bitter laugh, the sound causing your blood to boil. How dare he laugh at the fact you sacrificed your life for him ? The absolute prick ! His dark eyes bore into yours as he spat his words out, the venom coating them laid thick.

"You’re so ducking stupid sometimes (Y/n). Always so impulsive and hard headed. Didn’t you think what it would be like for me ? Or for Jim ? Huh ? If you’d died !" His voice tore through the street, the birds in the nearby streets scared into the air at the volume of his shouting. A flock of crows fled to the air, their dark forms contrasting with the soft glow of the pale sky.

"I-I...we would’ve all died. Better it was just me than all three of us ! I’d not regret what I did ! I’m not sorry !" Your faces were centimetres apart as you screamed back, voice cracking as you felt your emotions beginning to drown you.

"It wouldn’t have been better ! I-it W-wouldn’t.." Douxie’s voice was hoarse as he choked out his last words, the screaming having left his throat raw. The tears that had been threatening to burst all night finally started to tumble out of his dark eyes, spilling down his cheeks that were red with anger.

The man finally broke, letting out a soft sob as he collapsed into your arms, the gesture catching you a little by surprise.

"I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come back...I can’t.." he mumbled into your hair, which was beginning to dampen as his tears stained the locks. You buried your head into his neck. The hug was somehow so right, it didn’t matter that you hated each other, it didn’t matter that he despised you and you loathed him. The hug felt natural.

You couldn’t quite hear his last words, muffled by your shoulder.

"Douxie what did you say ?" You whispered soothingly, anger vanished at the sight of the first test. A part of you was still furious at his reaction, but a greater part of you was singing at the feeling of being in his arms.

"I-I need you here (Y/n). Don’t ever do that again." He spoke with so much sincerity, and pulled away to look straight into your eyes. You found it quite overwhelming.

Hesitating for a second, you didn’t bother to think twice and leant up, cupping his cheek as you placed a soft kiss to it. The gesture was short lived but had a profound effect on him as his cheeks instantly pinked. It was a little salty from the tears but you were too embarrassed to care.

"I promise I won’t Douxie." Your voice was soft, he’d never heard you speak so gently before. The two of you normally argued, berated each other, joked or insulted the other. This was different, not bad just different. He kinda liked it.

For a moment, you two stood there, basked in the morning sunlight as it trickled through the trees and onto the pavement. He reached out tentatively and took your hand, smiling a little as you squeezed his. He’d been dreading asking this next question, because honestly it was just to good to be true that you’d managed to survive. If he asked how, he was afraid the miracle would be ruined. There’d be some horrifying revelation. Or he was secretly afraid he was getting his hopes up, and they’d be shattered. Because he knew of only one wizard with the power to cheat death.

"I need to ask (Y/n)." The sudden shift in atmosphere has you on edge a little, his words serious and cold. "How did you survive ?"

———————————-

"It was weird. One moment I was experiencing the worst pain of my life and the next I awoke in this place...this other world." Your words had everybody on the edge of their seats, as they listened to you. Jim and you had made the gang breakfast, and they were sitting around the dining table as you spoke. You sat at the head of the table with a plate of untouched pancakes in front of you.

Blinky and Aaargh had come back to join you after visiting troll market to make sure that Bellroc and Skrael were checked on. They wanted to be sure the two were dead. There was also the issue of the resurrected gumm-gumms.

Jim was sat closest to you, his eyes widening at your words. No one dared to interrupt, curious and saddened.

"It was quite pretty, everything seemed to glow a little. It was like heaven. Maybe it actually was," you chuckled a little at your words, though a bit bitterly, "This man was there. At the time I didn’t realise it, but I’m pretty sure it was Merlin."

The whole room gasped at that, displeased expression crossing your family’s faces. Toby's usually happy expression faltered masked with the same anger that had twisted Claire’s pretty face. Even the two trolls looked agitated, Aargh in particular. It was only Douxie and Archie who appeared shocked, even a little hopeful.

"Actually he..he had a message for you Douxie." You looked at the boy to your right, who nearly spat his orange juice back into the cup at your words. You would’ve laughed if not for the severity of the situation.

"He wanted me to tell you that he’s proud of you, that he wishes he had more time to watch you grow into the man you are today." As you delivered the wizards message, a crestfallen expression had Douxie fighting back tears, the only reason why he wasn’t crying was because he was surrounded by people. Claire patted her teachers back sympathetically, knowing how much the man mattered to Douxie.

You hated yourself for the next thing you had to say, wishing you wouldn’t have to ruin the atmosphere like this. It hurt to have to burden your family with more bad news.

"That’s not all...he also gave me a warning. There’s something coming, he didn’t say what, just that it was evil and...he seemed afraid." At your words, a chorus of grumbles and gasp echoed in the room.

"Of course he doesn’t give any damn details." Jim grumbled, shaking his head at the cryptic wizard he disabled throughly.

"He did give me one piece of advice. Actually this is what I need to know about. Mum did dad have English heritage ?" Your question had the ginger woman pursing her lips as she thought hard for a second.

"I think so on his mother’s side, why dear ?" You sighed at her confirmation.

"Well apparently, we’re descended from Arthur Pendragon, who’s apparently a real fucking person but I shouldn’t be surprised.” Whereas you were just incredulous at this point the others erupted with a mix excitement and disbelief.

"Dude that’s so cool ! Jimbo you’re royalty !" Toby clapped his friend on the back, his best friend not quite as excited to be related to such an awful king. The man had tried to kill him once for gods sake.

"B-but I couldn’t remove Excalibur ? How can we be related to him ?" Jim didn’t undertand how the sword in the stone wouldn’t budge for him if he was directly related to Arthur. It made no sense, unless...

"No way..."he breathed out watching as a grim smile graced your lips.

"Yep. He’s given me instruction to retrieve the blade. He says we’ll need it to win the war that’s coming.." you sunk back into your chair, looking sadly at the untouched pancakes that were soggy from the syrup.

Only a week ago you’d been a normal girl, ready to move away from cramped home town and explore the world. You had big dreams and hopes, a desire to see everything and experience all the world had to offer. Soccer captain, A* student, part time waitress turned magical being with a great great great great like a hundred more great grandfather who was a king. Fucking spectacular. How had your brother lived these two lives simultaneously and so well ? You had to applaud him for that.

"Well it’s clear, Miss (Y/n), though Merlin can be a tricky character sometimes, he’s clearly warning us and if he believes you should wield the sword then you should." Blinky spoke up, a contemplative expression on his face. There were dark times ahead of them and it had the old troll worried. He only hoped they could prepare themselves in time.

"No !" Out of nowhere Douxie’s voice burst forth, rattling the table as he stood up abruptly from the chair.

Everybody paused to stare at him at his outburst, a mixture of confused and worried expressions in their faces. You in particular looked at him with confusion.

"I mean...it’s not safe. The sword is bad luck. Look at what happens to the last guy who wielded it." Calming down he slumped back down into his seat, hands clenching into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He wanted to trust Merlín, he really did and he knew should but seriously ? You’d only known about this world for like a week had been kidnapped, enslaved and then died. Now you were talking about wielding a sword and leading them into war. So yeah he was a little against it.

“Guys, we all know how well...difficult Merlín can be. You know I’m not the biggest fan of him, but if he’s warning us about a war then we need to prepare for it.” To your surprise Jim was the one who came to your defence. Honestly you’d expected him to react similarly to Douxie, refusing to let you go and fight.

It was nice to see your little brother defend you.

“Jim’s right. We’ve done this before and we’ll do it again. Together we can win.” Claire stood next to him, linking hands with him and sharing a smile.

There was a chorus of cheers from the people around you even your mum smiled at you in support. However Douxie still looked conflicted, the tension vivible in his shoulders.

“Come on Casperan. Don’t lose it on me now.” You tried to joke, squeezing his shoulder sympathetically. The man gazed from your hand on his shoulder to your reassuring eyes and felt his resolve falter.

“Okay, just don’t die on me again love.” He placed a hand over the one on his shoulder and felt himself relax at the warmth of your touch.

“Well then Ms. (Y/n) let’s go get Exaclibur !” Blinky chuckled as he spoke, glad to see everyone in a good mood as he spoke. It had been a difficult couple of days but now there looked like there was light at the end of the tunnel.

“Umm sorry to burst your bubble you guys. But you have school in like an hour. And no I can’t send in another note sorry kiddos.” Barbara’s words shattered the excited atmosphere and a chorus of groans left the younger teenagers.

You however smirked at Douxie, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“You ever been on a motorcycle?”

———————

Tell me if you want a part seven !! Hope you enjoyed

#douxie x reader #trollhunters #douxie #tales of arcadia #toa #hisirdoux casperan x reader #toa hisirdoux #toa wizards

[chaotically-cas]

Sometimes I kinda wish I read the book in class because I wonder how horrified my teachers would be if that found out I

1. Shipped steve & pony in the future

2. Said future pony is a whore

3. Also said Johnny is a whore

4. All of them are not cishet

5. Spent 3 hours last night working on a steve x curly fic (aged up)

6. Actually have written 50+ pretty fruity fics

7. & I believe in Shepard superiority

In fact. I think a lot of us can relate to a decent bit of that? Maybe? So I wonder. How proud our English teachers would be. How mortified. It’s something I think about often. Because I know for a fact that if I read it in class now (even though that’s impossible as I’m a junior) that I would make it gay.

#cas spams #pos

[avarnidoesntstudy]

i wonder if my high school english teacher would be proud of me arguing with prescriptivists under nyt articles on twitter, or just vaguely horrified.

#linguistics

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

My laptop is currently updating, so while I have that working in the background, I wanted to share a series of six short, mostly-opera-inspired autobiographical narratives/prose poems I wrote last April and May:

I would kill to have some wine right now.

There is a bottle of red wine sitting on the kitchen counter. My father bought it when he went to the store the other day─ don’t ask me what day it was, I don’t remember, the days already blend together as is─ and I have considered pouring even just a little bit into a glass and downing it.

And then proceeding to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it.

I’ve been contemplating doing that a lot lately.

True, I would kill to have some wine, but if I did go ahead and pour even just a little bit into a glass, and down it, and possibly then proceed to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it, I would most likely be killed before I had the chance to kill.

Kill or be killed. We are all trying our very best to do neither these days, but it happens anyway.

I am sixteen years old. As I start writing this, I am nine days away from turning seventeen. For me, alcohol consumption is thus not only not approved by the Parents, but also illegal. But then again, so is voting blue in the 2020 US Presidential election. That is also something neither approved by the Parents nor legal for me. But I digress.

Thirty-one, twenty-nine, thirty-one again, sixteen now, that makes sixty, ninety-one, one hundred and seven days since I watched one of my classmates get drunk at a New Year’s Eve party. She downed a whole bottle of peach wine (I didn’t even know that was a thing) and looked at me with her red eyes and silver-sequined halter top and curly dark brown hair in a high ponytail. You’re more beautiful than Jesus she told me and you’ll go to the moon on a rocketship. I laughed.

I laugh when something’s so unexpected I can’t do anything else. I laughed when I first heard Notre Dame Cathedral had caught fire because it seemed so ludicrous that I couldn’t do anything else. Notre Dame on fire? You can’t be serious, it can’t be serious.

It was serious.

I’m not sure if she was.

A little part of me wishes she were.

When I was in sixth grade, I told the same girl I thought her hair was luscious. Sixth-grade me didn’t know the word had a sexual connotation; the girl did and was offended.

Maybe a little part of me did know, somehow.

***

As I write this next part, I am working on a paper about state-sponsored censorship. I have picked this topic because it is a fascinating topic, it fits the requirements for the paper─ write about a major global problem─, and because I feel censored myself.

Expressing anything that conflicts with the Parents’ thoughts and opinions is strictly forbidden. If you are different, you are ostracized. I am different, so I am ostracized.

I am too proud, too strong to succumb. But it still hurts.

As I write this, I am listening to Act IV of Rossini’s Guillaume Tell, an opera about liberation, appropriate for both me and my paper. At this moment, Hedwige is calling on God, ‘the hope of the hopeless’, to save her husband and break the yoke of oppression that binds Switzerland.

It’s very nice, and the sentiment is good and true, and it works for her and Mathilde and Jemmy and the Swiss women, but it does not work for me. I lost my faith a long time ago. Ironically, it is French grand opéra, the genre to which Guillaume Tell belongs, that is partially responsible for my loss of faith.

It was impossible for me to watch Verdi’s Don Carlos for the first time in eighth grade and Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots in tenth and not be horrified by the things people do in the name of religion, to kill people senselessly just because they believe slightly differently than them─ even their own daughters (as is the finale of Les Huguenots).

How can a good God allow such things?

Do I realize these works are fictional? Yes. But do I know they are based on history, on real events? Yes.

“These things are meant to happen; they are all in God’s plan.” Well, can God just not find another way to make what’s meant to happen happen? I cannot believe in a God that allows these things to happen. To say that an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good God who can allow such things exists is a lie.

***

Now that Guillaume Tell is over, I am listening to another grand opéra, Les vepres siciliennes, albeit in its Italian version, I vespri siciliani. Another opera about occupation and liberation, but a liberation that comes at a horrible cost: the entire French ruling class is massacred by the Sicilians at the end of the opera.

If I didn’t care, I would stage my own personal ‘massacre’: I would turn my back, walk out the front door with the possessions I most needed to survive on my own, and never come back.

But I do care. They may not care, but I do.

One of my greatest curses is that I care about what I care about too much. My heart is too deep to not care.

There are some battles that are not worth being fought.

If a massacre is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing. Or, at least try to find another way.

Right now, I am at the beginning of Act III, at Monforte’s aria “In braccio alle dovizie”. In the original French, it’s called “Au sein de la puissance”. At the breast of power.

Monforte is the hated French governor of Sicily, the revolutionaries’ primary target. When he sings this, he has just learned that one of the main revolutionaries, Arrigo, is his long-lost illegitimate son.

By rape.

‘The breast of power’ indeed.

Just like with a massacre, if rape is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing either.

Just a thought.

I’m a woman. What do I know, in the eyes of many out there?

One of my friends said that Verdi gave Monforte his just deserts, but also overly beautiful music. “He couldn’t help it, though, not when his Dad Music Instincts were activated.”

I feel guilty listening to the aria, even though it is truly a beautiful piece and the recording I’m listening to─ a 1989 recording from the Teatro alla Scala, with Giorgio Zancanaro as Monforte─ is absolutely gorgeous.

Can we separate the music from the character, the art from the artist? I do not know. Everyone has something utterly heinous to someone else. Once we stop separating the art from the artist, where do we begin again? And yet, I do not want to support people who do horrible things to others.

Perhaps it is all relative.

Perhaps everything is.

Perhaps nothing is absolute at all.

That frightens me.

***

Today is Rome’s 2,773rd birthday. As a six-year Latin student and future classics and history double-major, this is cause for celebration.

If things were normal and I were at school, my Latin teacher would bring birthday cake for all the Latin students, and we’d eat it and sing “Felix dies natalis, Roma”. Happy Birthday, Rome.

But things are not normal, and I’m at home multitasking between this and a presentation script for that paper, and still listening to I vespri siciliani.

Now I’m at the end of Act IV. Everyone is celebrating the impending marriage of Arrigo to Duchess Elena, one of the Sicilian revolutionary leaders. Sicilian and French, united at last. Everything is set to work out.

But there’s still Giovanni da Procida, the other major revolutionary leader, who is hellbent on revenge. He sees this wedding as the perfect opportunity to strike down the French once and for all.

And thus, the massacre.

Everything can be set to work out, but there is always something that comes up. A massacre, a pandemic, a set of internal troubles that bring a proud empire to its ruin.

Now I’m in Act V, at Elena’s bolero ‘Merce, dilette amiche’. She has no idea about Procida’s plans; she’s just excited to marry Arrigo and bring peace to her beloved Sicily at last. I think I’m going to change operas again after this is over; the act is rather uneven (though I still very much like it) and I would prefer not to listen to everything falling apart today.

I debate listening to Berlioz’s Les Troyens, the closest thing to an opera about the founding of Rome and a masterpiece itself. But there is still too much about collateral damage for my tastes today: one kingdom falls and another loses its benevolent queen, all in the name of a supposedly greater destiny. And that’s just based on the first third of the Aeneid. I wrote an essay about that first third once for English class, using that thesis; my English teacher said it was one of the best essays he’d ever read. But I digress.

After a quick refresher on the synopsis, I decide to change styles and go with a story from the heyday of the Roman Empire: Handel’s Agrippina. Lots of plotting, but everyone gets what they want in the end and it ends happily for all. No collateral damage here. I am weary of that.

Sometimes I feel like collateral damage.

It’s tough to remember that you’re the master of your own story, not just a side character or a scapegoat in so many others’.

Everyone in this opera knows they’re the masters. That’s the problem. But it ultimately works out.

I want nothing more than for it to work out for me. It hasn’t yet.

But I have a feeling it will.

***

I got maybe halfway through the first act of Agrippina yesterday. I love Baroque opera, but I guess only in small doses.

No matter.

Today I’m listening to the beginning of Act II of Verdi’s Don Carlo. This is the fourth time in a row I’ve listened to it.

I read John Green’s Turtles All The Way Down recently. The main character frequently finds herself stuck in ‘thought spirals’, where she keeps thinking more and more about the same thing. I have those too, although I tend to picture my mind more as a bullet train: it always moves hundreds of miles an hour, faster than I can control, from one thought to the next. I constantly find myself retracing the figurative map of my mind to figure out what I was thinking about, what I need to remember but simply cannot. And it’s like my mind keeps returning to the same stations a lot; these are my equivalent to the spirals.

This opera, this moment, is one of my frequent stations.

Make that five times in a row now. This will be the last, I promise myself.

In this scene, a group of monks chant, praying for the rest of the dead Emperor Charles V, whom, I note with a smile, was himself a character in one of Verdi’s earliest operas, Ernani. In that opera, he sings an aria where he confronts his destiny as the next Holy Roman Emperor. My legacy will live throughout the ages, he sings.

Including in two different Verdi operas.

But there I go again on another bullet-train route.

The monks are singing now, their stark minor-major shifts making me feel as if I am there, in the cloister of San Yuste or in any of the great cathedrals of Spain, looking up into the vaults of the ceiling, of heaven itself, seemingly. The only lights come from candles in my mental picture, and I gaze up, my head uncovered, my mind only partially spellbound, more by the visual beauty and the history than by any religious feeling.

I am a heathen.

I have only been inside a Catholic church once, when I was fourteen; it was an impromptu side trip during a school-sponsored tour of colleges in St. Louis. One of the chaperones said the Cathedral Basilica had can’t-miss art, and thus managed to get a large section of the attendees to come with her.

She was right. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. And that was all I thought.

Okay, that’s a lie. I did wonder what it would be like to be able to have faith again, to be able to kneel in one of the pews, and pray, and believe, as my ancestors have done before me; after all, if religion were something you inherited in your blood, then I would be half-Catholic.

But I cannot kneel and pray and believe.

In this scene, one of the monks claims that Charles V fell because he was too proud, because he believed that he was greater than God. If a god exists, I do not claim to be greater than them. I am not perfect, not by a long shot.

He did not die because he did not believe in God. He died because everyone dies, even those who are supposedly the greatest of us.

God alone is great, the monk proclaims. I do not, cannot believe that. We are all great to begin with, but some of us are led to believe we are not.

We are the masters. I must remember that.

And I realize that I have let it play a sixth time.

Sometimes I am not the master of my own mind.

***

The sixth time was the last.

Now I am at the end of the act, listening to the showdown between Filippo II, King of Spain, and Rodrigo, Marquis di Posa. Filippo is the guardian of the way things are; Verdi called Rodrigo an anachronism, and indeed, he was the only principal character who never existed.

Rodrigo, he said, was at least two centuries ahead of his time.

I don’t know what exactly Verdi’s feelings were about this, but personally, I do not think this is a bad thing. Progressivism is often progressivism in any age.

At any rate, Rodrigo, who has recently returned from Spanish-held Flanders, has taken his chance─ a rare private meeting with the King, who is confused as to why Rodrigo has never approached him for favors like all the other courtiers─ to confront him about the horrific conditions of Flanders and its people. Give them liberty, he pleads.

No. I have given them the same peace I have given Spain.

A horrible peace!, Rodrigo fires back. The peace of the tomb!

We should not have to suffer until death.

Let history not say of you, “He was a Nero.” A murderer of innocents, a torturer of the defenseless, an occupier, a denier of liberty─ perhaps the greatest torture of all.

I once watched a video in which a director said, “To live in an occupied country is to live only half a life.” I would say that to live in an occupied country, or even any place where you cannot be free, cannot live fully as yourself, is not even that. It is to barely live at all. It is to merely have a beating heart and breath.

To live in spite of this, to simply be as you wish, is the ultimate act of defiance.

#notyouraveragejulie writes #(or rather reads old writing) #writing #poetry #poems #prose poems #autobiographical narratives #life in the time of COVID #opera #opera tag #censorship #freedom #also the author would like to note that this was written *before* she saw Agrippina and loved it so those comments aren't 100% accurate now

[edwardslostalchemy]

Explain the difference between endevour and Bakugou’s Behavior when it comes to treating others how they do. Thanks (:D)

This is tough because I’m so biased to believe they are both abusive. And I really just want to tell you with the Pam from the Office meme that they’re the same person. But I know that’s not entirely true. Both of these characters have inflicted damage to other characters. 

However, I acknowledge that Katsuki is still a teenager and I am holding out for hope that Horikoshi gives him proper development, that he can regret his actions, have a good redemption arc, apologize to Izuku, and be a better character. 

Endeavor is just. A monster. Because through more than 20 years, he never stopped to think that MAYBE just MAYBE he was hurting PEOPLE, and the people were his FAMILY, his WIFE, his CHILDREN. He hurt FIVE people. He didn’t even see them as people to begin with, just a means to an end. He didn’t even see Shouto as a child, he saw him as his ‘masterpiece’, an extension of himself, the perfect tool to use for his ambition. He saw his three older children as failures and neglected them, pushing them aside and separating Shouto from his siblings because he ‘lived in a different world from the one they lived in’. It is heavily implied and suggested that he has beat his wife and even on screen, the sounds that were made were obviously of him hitting her and she falls to the ground. And the way Shouto reacts, with a horrified expression while calling for his mother, is more than enough proof that that’s what happened in that one instant. He drove her to madness, so much so that she ended up maiming her youngest child, someone who had no fault in any of what was going on, but ended up on the receiving end of her meltdown, unfortunately. And what did Endeavor do? He put her in a mental hospital because she ‘hurt his masterpiece’. Not even ‘because she hurt my son/child’ or ‘because she needs help’. Because he hurt his masterpiece. His tool. We still don’t know what happened to Touya, but we do know that Endeavor had a hand in killing him, which is horrifying and so so terrible. How…how do you just. Move on from that? It’s no wonder Natsuo hates him so much. It’s no wonder Shouto has so many mixed feelings and doesn’t know what to feel. It’s no wonder Rei is so scared of him and doesn’t want to see him even if it’s been more than 10 years since she’s been there. Even Fuyumi has admitted that she feels the same way as Natsuo and Shouto. 

This is different from Katsuki. He didn’t do any of this and I really hope he never does. It would be unfortunate and sad. He has been compared to Endeavor, though, in terms of behavior, by All Might. However, he still hurt Izuku. He’s called him useless, he’s called him scum and has said he is like a pebble and like an insect he can crush if I remember correctly; he’s used his quirk on him to hurt him, and just by what we saw from the first episode, it says a lot about what he did. As little kids, he and his friends beat up Izuku. And then fast forward to middle school, he’s still bothering and hurting him. It’s quite exaggerated if I’m being honest, but still, Izuku is pushed against the wall and Katsuki stands over him threateningly. Their teacher doesn’t even do anything to stop it. After classes end, he burns Izuku’s notebook and tosses it out of the window and then tells him to kill himself. After the entrance exam for UA and they both get accepted, he pushes Izuku against a secluded wall and threatens him to not go to UA. He used so much of his quirk during the battle trial that All Might warned him not to use it or else he’d kill Izuku. And his response was that he wouldn’t get killed as long as he dodged. He still threatened him during their first semester and hit him in the face during their final exam. We don’t get to see throughout the years the extend of the bullying, just glimpses of how Katsuki tells Izuku his quirk will never be as good as his, he would leave him behind, he’d push him down; but we get to see the aftermath and Izuku does not think of himself as worthy. He has self-esteem issues, he flinches whenever he is approached by Katsuki, although this is improving because he hasn’t been stepping back recently. Katsuki can’t attack Izuku anymore because Aizawa can stop him. It’s not because he felt bad. It’s because a teacher with the means to do it finally stepped in and went ‘nope’. Aizawa doesn’t reprimand him, but he stops him. Izuku is getting better at fighting back. Katsuki can’t push him around anymore. But it doesn’t mean he’s stopped yelling at him or has stopped hurting him. He still stabs him on the head to shut him up. He’s very disrespectful when it comes to OFA meetings (and really he’s disrespectful all the time). But the thing is that now, currently in the manga, he doesn’t have that chance to attack Izuku anymore. Which is GOOD. I still see his behavior as abusive because bullies are abusive. They still hurt people mentally, physically, and/or emotionally. 

The difference is that nobody was there to stop Endeavor, but someone was there to stop Katsuki. Endeavor took a hell of a long time to realize that what he did was not right and evaluated that his reasons for doing what he did were not really….I guess enough. Or wrong. Perhaps I’m not interpreting that scene correctly, where he is fighting High End and he’s thinking “that’s the reason….the reason…” and it pans over Rei, Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Shouto. Endeavor is an ADULT who should have better judgement and better sense in treating people like people. He’s a certified Hero, but only acts heroically publicly. With his family? Not even close. He did it because he believed this was the best option for reaching his goal. But it was not an ethical option. Katsuki did what he did because his ego was inflated and people would tell him he was the best and his quirk was amazing, even by Izuku. Katsuki is a KID. And I really hope he gets better development. I really hope he stops hurting Izuku and starts treating him like a person and like a friend. (And I say this for Izuku’s sake, not his.) 

Now as far as how these two characters treat other people.

They’re both arrogant and proud, but they’re executed differently. Endeavor is arrogant in that he doesn’t want to join other heroes because he ‘is a very busy man’, as we saw when detective Tsukauchi requested his help to rescue Katsuki from the League of Villains. He also complained that All Might was getting the spotlight and not him. Why did he have to stay where he was when All Might was rushing into action? I am trying to translate this word to English, but what comes up is despot. He abuses power and oppresses others, most notably his family. However, because of his status, he is still rude and selfish with other people. His interactions with All Might are so tense. All Might goes to say hi and he’s like “is that it?” and walks away. And then he tells him how Shouto will beat him. It’s disgusting how he talks about Shouto as if he were a tool and not his son, and also he says ‘that’s why I made him’ as if Shouto is only worth being something to use instead of someone to cherish, i.e. a child. He’s beginning to atone, which is good. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth because I cannot stand abusers and I myself have dealt with someone who is awful. Not on this level of asshole, but he’s still an asshole. Anyway, back to him. He allows Natsuo to tell him what he’s thinking, which is GOOD. This is something I like because he didn’t shut Natsuo down and Natsuo was able to speak what was on his mind. Fuyumi is probably the person he has….I don’t want to use the word fondness….that implies that he cares about her, and honestly, I still want to believe that despite his abusive nature, he can at least spare some care for his daughter. I don’t know what word to use, but he lets her have dinners and convinces him to bring his interns over. He’s also trying to show Shouto that he can be a better hero, one he can be proud of. And I understand that this is part of his atonement, but it does not arouse sympathy out of me. His interaction with Hawks is interesting. He’s rude and impatient and wants for him to get to the point. However, he did not blow up when Hawks gave him a major burn on live television. Although, in later chapters, he lets Hawks give him information and it’s good he allowed this because it was so crucial. 

Katsuki is different from Endeavor in that he does blow up on people. His personality is, you guessed it, explosive. And I understand that goes with his character. Endeavor is fiery…he is fierce… Shouto is warm and cold. Izuku is full of energy he cannot contain, bouncing off walls verbally and physically. So it makes sense that Katsuki is explosive. However, he yells and threatens and tells people to die. I’ve read a post explaining that him telling people to die is a common thing to say in Japan amongst kids. Perhaps if handled differently for Katsuki, it would be funny when it’s meant to be funny. But anyway, let’s go with his explosive nature. He blows up. He loses his cool so easily and is provoked instantly. He treats people like dirt, not gonna lie. I want to believe he’s getting better. But I can’t see it. It’s so hard for me to see it. Blowing up on people that see him as a friend, blowing up on Izuku, blowing up on his classmates. Constantly telling Shouto they are NOT friends even though Shouto thinks they are. I see he has not yelled at Momo, which is good, because if he were to do it, I would be out for blood. He’s not horrible to Kirishima, and he’s getting better? Like that bit where Kirishima was insecure and he told him he was strong, that was nice. I wish he would be that way with other people, too. The way he wanted to fight all the kids during the provisional license remedial course was something. And that line he said to the leader of the kids felt hollow, but at least he stopped yelling at the kids. He’s also not 100% insensitive, because he at least listened to Shouto when he said there’s other ways of reaching out to children that DON’T involve violence, and he thought back to when Shouto told Izuku about how he was abused. He is learning to cooperate, which is something I appreciate, although he is not perfect, as we saw when he joined the 1A band (thanks Sero). I would like for him to realize, though, that his behavior needs improvement. Or at least he needs to stop yelling at everyone and should direct this anger towards villains. 

So really Katsuki doesn’t give a damn about public image, but Endeavor does. Still, both are rude and brash and flaunt their power in front of other people. Endeavor literally does this simply by having his fire mask, mustache, and beard all the time when he is out. 

I hope this is enough/satisfactory for you, anon. I tried to stay objective, but again that was difficult given how much I hate both characters. If anyone wants to add on, feel free because I’m sure I missed something, but this is what I was able to put together.

#uhhh idk how to even tag this but i will go with these #anti bakugou #anti endeavor #anonymous #asks #bc im not praising them im pointing out how they treat people #and it's not good treatment #cw abuse #cw domestic abuse #cw child abuse #cw bullying #Anonymous #bnha character analysis #i guess #bnha spoilers

[geeky-marie]

Good Luck Charm

Dewey Finn x Reader ( Female)

School of Rock 

N/A: Well it’s starts with a small idea and I write it in a few hours. It end to be way more soft and fluff that I wanted at first. I wanted to have a little Smut in it but, I think it wouldn’t fit right. So, here a fluffy Dewey Finn. 

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

------------------------------------------------------ 

The kids were in panic. Miss Mullins, nervously biting his nails, was trying to calm them. The technician guy, unhappy, was growling about his time in a more popular band where this kind of situation would never happen. And there, in a little corner of the room, was you. Your phone glued to your ear, trying to calm a horrifying late and swearing Dewey Finn, stuck in the traffic.

“ I swear Y/N, the old cow in front of me must think that the hallway is a parking or something … fuck, maybe she’s dead in her car and her foot is on the break ! Come on, I'm laate to my shooww “ 

Trying to not laughing, you try to keep your mind clear. 

“ We will find a solution, you have some time. But, most important, Dewey, do you have it? “ 

“ Yes of course I have it Y/N! I didn’t go of my gig for nothing!” 

Dewey didn’t have the intention or the need to go out after the afternoon practice if it hadn’t been of Lawrence. You had noticed, during the repetition that the young boy wasn’t like usual, or at least was playing with less facility that normal. Concern and with the help of Dewey, you had tried to find out what’s happened.

“ Come on Lawrence, what’s the matter dude?” 

“ You can tell us, we see that something is bothering you...are you anxious for tonight?” You asked, a gentle smile on your lips. 

“ No, that’s...that’s stupid” The boy replied, looking at his shoes. 

“ Stupid like, I think at my math homework or stupid like I love a girl and she’s stuck in my brain ? Because we could do a song about that !” Dewey asked, his eyes sparkling at the idea. 

“ Dewey “ You sighed. “ I’m sure it’s not stupid Lawrence” 

“ I forgot at school the good luck charm my grandmother gave me, I have it at each one of our concerts...I can play well without it” He confessed, his cheeks turning pink under your gaze. 

“ I’m sure you can play without it, it’s not luck who makes you’re a great musician it’s...” You started before being abruptly interrupted by Dewey. 

“ I’ll go get it “ He says, already taking his car keys. “ We don’t play with luck” 

After reflection, letting Dewey go himself was a stupid idea. But, nobody could have predicted the road accident whose block a part of the hallway and create a huge traffic. But, you were now at twenty minute of going on stage and the second guitars and principal singer is missing. 

“Miss Y/N, it’s almost our turn, the owner asks what we do...”

You didn’t see Summer coming. As the manager, she was perfect. Always master of herself, calm and sure of his decision for the good of the band. But, you knew that after all, she’s just a kid and she must feel lost and anxious like everybody in the room. 

“ Summer tell them to...” Dewey start to yell in the phone before you interrupt him, scared of the end of the sentence in his state of mind. Even if he had made great progress since he teaches to the children, the man still had his temper and could have a dirty mouth. 

“ Dewey, try your best to coming the faster you can. I will find a solution.” You reply, hanging out before he could answer. 

In fact, you have an idea. You didn’t like it, but it was better that cancel the performance, disappoint everybody and showing to the kids that it better to give up at the first difficulty. 

“ Summer, tell everybody we will play. Say to Lawrence that is item is in the crowd almost in his pocket. Tell Billy to bring me the uniform of Dewey and his sewing kit and ask to Miss Mullins to come with me“ Closing briefly your eyes trying to stop your anxiety, you take a breath “ I will take Dewey’s place “

As a smart child, Summer only nod of the head knowing that you didn’t come with this solution if you knew that you couldn’t do it. Soon, everybody had been informed of the plan and Miss Mullins had gracefully agree to wear your jeans in exchange of his above the knee black skirt.    

“ I only have one question” The young and small manager tell, looking at the way too large for you uniform of Dewey, Billy was caring “ How will you make it fit on you ?” 

Smiling at the girl, you wink at Billy who’s automatically smile back at the challenge.  

“ That, Summer it’s why is always important to have a needle, safety pins and some creativity” You respond, putting your left arm in the sleeve of the white shirt. 

Your knees are weak and your heart was racing in your chest. When, at only a few inches of the colorful stage, you put the strap of Dewey guitar on your shoulder. You knew that the guitar wasn’t really heavier. But, you still feel it like it hadn’t the same weight that the last time Dewey put it in your hand.Few months ago, in one of your movie nights, he had insisted to hear you play, even if you had protested that you weren't great like him. It was that night too, after watching you play on his precious guitar that he had kissed you for the first time. 

“ And now, please welcome THE SCHOOL OF ROCK !” 

Taking a deep breath, you gave a look at the small faces of these group of talented child, summoning the inner Dewey whose sleep in you and step on stage.

*******

Dewey was running as fast as he can, showing his backstage pass at every bodyguard trying to stop him. In his pocket, the large and heavy coin of Lawrence was bouncing at each move. 

He was almost at the end of one of the side corridors leading to the backstage when he heard it. The first chord of Teacher pet like only Zach knew to do it, and then, the second guitar. The first feeling punch him in the stomach, they replace him, like his previous band. Then, jealousy, anger and finally the guilt. It was is idea to go get the item of Lawrence. They only do what they teach them : The show must always go on.   

It was only when he heard the feminine voice starting to sing that he starts to run again, changing the way of his trajectory. Open the first door at his right, ending in the front row, he lifted his head. 

There, wearing an identical uniform as his, minus the short who were substitute by a pencil black skirt, his girl was playing and signing like a fucking rock goddess. Holy shit, even his own guitar look better when you were playing with it on that outfit. Well, he had noticed that everything look better when he was with you, but dress like that you just look like a living dream. Or maybe he just discovers a new kink he have only for you. Damn it, one day he will truly have to marry you.

Jumping on place like the rest of the crowd, smiling and shouting, he waited for the end of the song before rushing backstage to put his spare uniform. 

You didn’t start the second song yet, waving at the clapping crowd, when he pop at the side on the stage. Smiling at you like the Cheshire cat. 

Rushing behind the curtain, you rapidly remove the guitar putting it in his hand. 

“ Omg baby you were amazing !!” Dewey shout, kissing you without letting you answer. “ and that uniform, where do you find it ?”  

“ It’s your uniform, now shut up and go, they wait for you !” You say laughing after his kiss. 

“ Keep it like that !!” He tell before jumping on stage. 

The rest of the night was perfect. The show had finished with two encores and everybody came back in the dressing room sweaty but, way more relaxed. 

Sit on the couch of the room, back in your jeans and shirt, you listen to Lawrence explaining to you his good luck coin. Once on stage, the first thing that Dewey did was giving him back his precious possession to the young pianist. 

Lifting your gaze, you saw Dewey coming at you. He had changed his costume to his previous AC/DC shirt but didn't succeed to get down is hair. 

“ Lawrence, your parents are there and they say it's time to give me back my girlfriend, oh and back home of course. See you Monday.” 

Smiling, the young musician jump on Dewey, giving him a last hug and a thanks before heading to his parents, waiting at the door. 

“ That coin is really important for him since his grandmother die. It’s not really have a relation with luck but, for him it’s real I think” You say, watching the now happy family left. 

“ No, I think it has something to do with luck too “ Your boyfriend insist. “ Every rock star have his kind of good luck charm, it was my guitar” 

“ Was ? “ You ask pushing yourself against his warm body. 

“ Well, after tonight that change a little. Nothing go wrong when you are here. You are maybe my good luck charm after all” 

Trying to hide your large grin, you put your mouth on his. 

“ Are my kiss are lucky too ? “ You playfully ask. 

“ Well I can’t wait to be home to discover it” Dewey joke, smiling. “ and please, don’t forget the uniform.” 

Laughing, your take you bag, kind of proud and amuse of your new statue of good luck charm.   

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

N/A : Like I said before, I wanted to do a little smut but, it ended up way too fluff and long to add it. So gave me a like or a comment if you want a smut second part.

 @beetlejuicecansteponme​

#dewey finn #dewey finn x reader #school of rock #fluff #alex brightman #beetlejuice #beetlejuice broadway #school of rock broadway

[decimateddreams]

Ok SO, I did terribly on my maths test (like, 15/20 isn't *terrible* but it's not good either yknow?) I'm just, screaming internally at all times.

Alsooo I have zero self control too, I literally had to download an extension to block me out of Tumblr after my allotted time. Granted, the extension doesn't stop me from going on my phone or anything but...baby steps.

(also my english teacher doesn't like me lol, I never get full marks in english)

Do I have anything else to say? OH YEAH, IT'S BEEN RAINING ALL DAY AND IT'S GREAT! ~shy anon

ps: i saw exactly zero spn posts today, are you proud of me?

it depends how hard it is 👀 but yeah ;-; results are never good Enough anymore tbh,,,,, mood.

innovative solution. at least you’re trying to retreat... that was a good step (please force me to leave too at the start of 2021... i have mocks *scream*)

ooof that’s unlucky (i meant like if you did one of our tests! at my lower effort english school where i assume it’s easier than your horrifying work-on-saturday school-) BUT your english is literally perfect too and i bet you would easily pass an english school english exam thing (if that makes sense)

woooo rain we love rain i hope you stick your head out of the window sometimes to feel it and SMELL it (petrichor!!!)

#i am very proud #so wait would that mean you don’t know about how in some other foreign version dean said *i’m yours cas* #was that today? time is such a construct #oh well #anyway that happened #oh also i have one (1) more science test this term physics paper 2 and i am gonna revise So Much (cue future me saying ‘‘and then i didn’t’’ #i hope your exams are going well! and revision! #although they sound hard ;-; oof #STILL take solace in mcr. join the black parade take revenge on the examiners or run away to the desert...... your choice! #ask #shy anon