#rare books and manuscripts section

[upennmanuscripts]

Ms. Oversize 33 is featured in the video loop for THE MOVEMENT OF BOOKS, an exhibit about all the ways that books move. Ms. Oversize 33 is notable because of its... wait for it... large size! It's a section (5 gatherings) from the middle of a choir psalter, in order for liturgical use. Originally the manuscript would have been held upright in front of a group of singers, so they could all read it at the same time. You can watch the whole loop on YouTube!

Ms. Oversize 33 🔗:

The Movement of Books Video Loop 🔗:

The Movement of Books exhibit information 🔗:

[dovkss]

bakugou using your mouth in the library during a weekly study date with your friends…

word count: 2.2k

warning: 18+; manhandling; blowjob (m receiving); degradation; slapping; public sex; possessive & controlling katsuki; choking & gagging; cum eating; yandere themes; poor eijiro once again :((

all characters are aged up !!

a/n: quick first drabble from my first story “dumb bitch” since a lot of you asked for a part two but I don’t want to do one, I’ll continue more drabbles from the story if asked ! enjoy ! (^_^)

You and the girls gathered at your usual study spot in the library on a quiet Saturday afternoon. You all were preparing for an exam and knew that studying together would help big time.

Kirishima was also there, like he always was. But he barely spoke. Ever since he discovered you and Bakugou on his bed, sprawled out like heathens, things were awkward to say the least.

You, the girl he’d cared deeply for, had chosen Bakugou over him, and it felt like a dagger was plunged into his soul.

He would think back to before everything went to shit. When classes for the day ended, he would see you leaning on his car when he'd go to the parking lot. You would greet him and lock your arm with his and you both made your way to the other side so he would open the passenger door for you.

You'd beg to go get ice cream or ask if he could take you home so you wouldn't have to take the bus. He would never say no to you, only nod like a dummy. It was like you knew the scent of your perfume made you irresistible to him.

When he would go to open the driver door, the handle would be warm from your ass. The day after the next, you would be back again to do the same thing.

You wanted to apologize to him, but was shut down by Bakugou. His nostrils flared and he rolled his eyes. "He'll get over it, stay away from him. Why? Because I told you to! Don't question me, you're fucking mine."

You respected his wishes, but you felt it was wrong.

You guys settled down at the spacious table, surrounded by shelves stacked with books, each section thoughtfully curated. They housed literary classics, contemporary bestsellers, niche genres, and even rare manuscripts. The atmosphere in the studying section was calm and serene. Soft whispers and the sound of turning pages filled the air.

You opened your rented textbook, and laptop, setting down your regular coffee next to them, ready to dive in.

"God, my head is killing me," Mina whined. Dramatically, she slumped over in her chair and rubbed her temple with two fingers.

"Still? It's been like a week," Momo asked.

"I don't know what's happening to me! Maybe... I'm dying..."

"Don't say that, death isn't funny."

"I never said it was, I'm being serious!"

"You're not gonna die from a headache, Mina. Stop being a baby. Maybe learn how to swallow a pill, it'll help."

Mina groaned and shook her head. "You know I can't do that!"

"Then stop complaining!" Momo snapped back.

You shook your head in disbelief. It seemed that the girls would always find something mundane to argue about. But that was just their dynamic. If there were a day they weren't bickering, you'd be worried.

You glanced up at Kirishima who sat across from you. His head was in his notebook; he was taking notes. You watched him, observing how he studied. His handwriting was a little sloppy, as he seemed to be writing fast. His tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth a little.

He was adorable when he was focused.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. You didn't look away. His red eyes glistened in the sunlight that came through the windows. You smiled at him, being sure to show off your pearly whites.

He sighed and went back to jotting down whatever he was writing. You frowned and opened your mouth to speak up, but you were suddenly yanked up by your arm.

You gasped and dropped the pen that was in your hand. You knew that tight grip of his, it never failed to make you shutter.

"Been tryna reach you for hours, y'know?"

You giggled. "Well I can't be available all the time."

Bakugou wasn't amused. His ears flushed in anger and his jaw clenched.

He dragged you out of the library, you winced when he tightened his grip on you. He was tall, his long strides made it almost impossible for your legs to keep up at a normal pace. Looking back, you were surprised.

Momo sat silently, taking a deep breath. Mina watched in confusion as to where he was taking you and wondered if you’d be back. Kirishima just stared. He seemed calm, like he wasn't worried.

He wasn't.

“Be right back you guys- ow!” You flinched. Bakugou had yanked you by your ear, forcing you in front of him so you couldn’t look anywhere else but ahead.

Leaving the study area, Bakugou took you to an empty part of the library, all the way on the other side. Furthest away from your friends.

He shoved you into one of the shelves and stood in front of you. He towered over you, his wide chest almost caging you in that one spot.

“You wanna embarrass me?” He asked, how voice low and intimidating.

You shook your head. “No… of course not, Katsuki! What did I do?”

His infuriated state didn’t subside. Your innocent question only intensified it.

“You should know better than to ignore me,” he said.

You shook your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry, okay?”

“You always have your phone on you, I’m not stupid.”

You looked up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “My phone is in my bag, we needed to focus for this exam and I didn’t want to get distracted. I didn’t mean to worry you… forgive me?”

He scoffed at your sudden change in demeanor. You looked at him with those eyes. The very same eyes you gave him whenever you wanted him to take care of you in more ways than one.

“What a fucking whore you are.” He spat at you, his hands running down the sides of your waist.

“You know me so well—after I study, you can come over. I’ll make it up to you!” You smile softly, biting your lip.

Bakugou didn’t react, he just looked at you. It was hard to read him. You were never able to tell what he was thinking. That’s what made him stand out to you in the first place.

“Why are you studying with Kirishima?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Well, that’s how it’s always been. I can’t really control if he’s there or not either…”

“Fucking figure it out. I don’t want you around him, if that means you have to kick those sluts to the curb as well, then so be it.”

He was serious. Of course he was, there was never a moment where he wasn’t. But he didn’t actually expect you to let go of Momo and Mina did he? Your best friends since… forever!

You frowned at his words and your arms dropped from his neck. You fiddled with the hem of your sweater and looked away from him.

When you didn’t give an answer, he brought his hand up to your chin, forcing you to look at him. “So what’s it gonna be?”

You were unsure of how to answer. Obviously, you weren’t gonna stop being friends with them. They were there first, it would be unfair.

“Why do you hate him so much?”

The grin on his face became more prominent. Slowly, teasingly, his hand smoothed down your hair before he pressed against the back of your neck. “Because he wants what’s mine.”

He pressed down hard, pushing you down to your knees. Your heart sped up when you realize what’s happening.

You blinked up at him, unsure of what he wanted you to do. You were also too scared. Your hands shook a little at the thought of getting caught. That would be a nightmare.

He tilted his head at you. “You don’t expect me to do everything, do you?”

You looked to both sides of you worryingly. “What if someone comes, and we get in trouble, or worse- suspended. Or even worse! Expelled! Oh my god, I’d be in so much trouble, my parents would kill me and I would be a disgrace and they’d disown me and they’d take away everything I have, everything I love, oh my god I’m gonna have a heart attack,”

Bakugou rolled his eyes at your nervous rambling, unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock. He slammed your head back on the shelf which shut you up immediately, his cock in his hand, he tapped your lips with it.

“Are you done? Needa’ use your mouth for something more productive right now.”

You closed your eyes, letting out jagged breaths, and nod submissively. He chuckled then forced his cock between your lips, putting his entire length down your throat.

Your squeals are muffled when he thrusts into your mouth. He explores your tongue and feels the inside of your cheeks. It made him crave you even more.

“Looks at me baby- aah, shit. Look at me when your mouth is full.” He exhaled.

You did as he said without question. One thing about Bakugou, his moans were gorgeous. They never failed to make you feel special.

It always sent shivers down your spine whenever his breaths let you know how much of a good girl you were being. Your nipples became hard, almost being visible through your thick sweater. The pain at the back of your head became a distant feeling.

The only thing you focused on was him. How good he was making you feel, and how you were doing the same to him.

His breath hitched as his thrusts into your throat became more powerful. His balls slapped against your chin and saliva spilled from the corners of your lips.

“Wider,” he panted. “Open wider… deeper…”

You tried your best to widen your lips more to his liking. But you were as wide as you could go, his cock was already forcing your mouth wide open. It was hard to breathe through your mouth and your jaw started to cramp.

He leaned over you, his arms and forehead resting on the bookshelf. You could tell he was focused, his expression was serious.

You felt yourself growing more wet when you began to gag on his cock. The lewd noises were a little loud, the thought of being caught scared you but you didn’t care about that now.

He moaned more, cursing at you under his breath. It was so faint, you couldn’t hear what he was saying. But you were willing to bet it was so hot.

Hs shoved his hand to the back of your head and began forcing you down on his cock. Your eyes shot close when you started choking on him even more.

His grip on your hair tightened and you could tell he was close. You tried to be good for him and just take it. But the roughness was too much to handle.

You whined and whimpered, but he ignored you. The only thing on his mind was chasing his high. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and you moaned.

That set him off. His body jerked ever so slightly as he released down your throat. His gasps were soft and mixed with shits and fucks.

When he pulled out of you, a long string of his thick cum mixed in with your saliva connected between his cock and your mouth. He lifted it off his end and placed it in your mouth.

You prepared your throat to swallow before he caught it and flung his hand across your cheek, your head snapping to the side. You whimper and bring your hand to your slapped cheek.

“Don’t swallow until I tell you to.” He hissed.

You nodded and stood slowly, resting your head on his chest. He cleaned himself up a bit, putting his cock back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans.

He led you back to your friends and left without a word. You sat down quietly, grabbing your phone from your bag and rested your head on the table.

13 missed calls and 22 unanswered texts.

“What happened back there? Are you alright?” Mina asked. You looked up at her. She was worried, like usual. You only smile and nod.

“Are you sure? You look exhausted,” Kirishima added. You nod again, your tongue playing with the cum still in your mouth.

You felt your eyes ready to close so you can get some rest until you felt your phone buzz. You lifted it from your lap and unlocked it.

It was from Bakugou.

“Send me a pic of my seed in you. Then I’ll allow you to swallow.”

You cringed. What if your friends saw? What would they think of you if they knew what just happened?

But you couldn’t ignore him. You’d end up in bigger trouble later if you did.

You opened the camera app and turned the camera around. Kirishima was right, you did look exhausted. Your eyes were barely able to stay open, it looked like you had been crying.

You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. You snapped a photo of your expression and examined it before sending.

It was clear as day, the cum in your mouth. It was awfully abundant and salty. Having it in your mouth for longer than three minutes would surely make your breath stink like crazy.

You sent the picture to him and awaited a response. It wasn’t long before you got a reply.

“Disgusting whore.”

[shadowtriovibes]

bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, fluff and smut

Summary: "I would like to request Sebastian and MC wanting to have their first time and Seb being the bookworm he is doing some ~research in the restricted section on how to make MC feel good and when she discovers it finds it super sweet ❤"

Tonight he has a very specific quest as he wanders the underground stacks, keeping a mindful eye out for any nosy ghosts as he makes his way toward one of the sections he hasn’t ever had the mind to explore. A small piece of parchment is affixed to the end of the row, and in Scribner’s tight, precise scrawl he sees the words, "Sexually Explicit Materials." Sebastian smirks – precisely what he sought.

Throughout his years at Hogwarts, Sebastian has snuck into the Restricted Section of the library more times than he can recall.

It’s almost too easy to cause a distraction, conceal himself with Disillusionment and slip past Scribner to pick the lock and let himself into Hogwarts’ most valuable collection of rare books, obscure manuscripts, and other magical oddities deemed too advanced (or dangerous) for the average student.

As long as Peeves is otherwise occupied, he usually finds what he’s looking for without incident.

However, it’s been a while since Sebastian has found himself in need of a book from this particular section. Ever since you’d used Isadora’s magic to pull Anne’s curse from her frail body and store it in a goblin-made metal locket, he’d kept his word and avoided practicing any sort of Dark Arts.

He simply doesn’t need to anymore.

(...He still reads about it sometimes. But how else will he know what to avoid?)

Tonight he has a very specific quest as he wanders the underground stacks, keeping a mindful eye out for any nosy ghosts as he makes his way toward one of the sections he hasn’t ever had the mind to explore.

A small piece of parchment is affixed to the end of the row, and in Scribner’s tight, precise scrawl he sees the words, “Sexually Explicit Materials.”

Sebastian smirks – precisely what he sought.

It’s an open secret amongst Hogwarts’ more senior students that somewhere hidden within the Restricted Section was an entire shelf of books all about, well… relations. Witches would whisper to each other about how they could probably find out everything they’d ever wanted to know about the mysterious opposite sex.

The wizards just hoped that could find some illustrations.

At least a few times per year, some ambitious students would attempt to get a teacher’s permission to access such books, but most failed. Sebastian, not willing to risk being turned down, figured it would be better to ask forgiveness if he was caught “borrowing” a few books rather than seek someone like Sharp’s permission.

He peered closely at the spines as he crept down the length of the aisle.

Smethwyk’s Guide to Marital Relations… Magickal Self-Knowledge… Sexual Behaviour in the Contemporary Wizard… Bewitching the Fairer Sexe…

That last one piques his interest.

He slides it off the shelf and gingerly opens the front cover, hoping that the book won’t start to sensually moan (or worse) and alert the librarian of his presence. Mercifully it remains silent, so he eagerly starts to flip through its pages.

Oh, there are illustrations and then some. The magical kind that move, at that.

Sebastian knows that if anyone were to catch him right now, he’d be terminally embarrassed. But he’s determined to read this book from cover to cover – not merely out of curiosity, but because he has a purpose now.

Since the two of you had decided to make the leap from friends to something more, you’ve already shared so many lovely milestones. To Sebastian, they were all meaningful: the first time you’d kissed, the first time you’d felt each other through your clothes, the first time you’d both had to spring apart and catch your breaths because things had gotten very intense very quickly. (That last memory is one of his favorites to relive.)

But earlier that week, you’d sprung on him that you were ready.

“Ready?” he’d asked dumbly.

“Ready,” you breathed, kissing down his jaw to his neck while you squirmed impatiently in his lap. “For you, for more.”

“You want more?” Sebastian sighed contently, tipping his head back so you can suck one of those claiming bruises you love to put on him. “We have all night, love, and I’m certainly in no rush.”

“I mean for sex,” you blurted out.

“Y-you said you’re ready for…?” he stammered. “W-well, I mean–”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you mumbled, immediately backing off. “You must think me truly wicked for even suggesting it.”

In fact, Sebastian wasn’t thinking much of anything at that moment. But he forced himself to focus and reassure you that he wasn’t upset with you at all.

He’s quite interested, it’s just… he feels hopelessly ignorant.

He knows you lived in the Muggle world until you were fifteen, and that there’s no such compunction about talking about sexual relations at that age within non-magic spaces. Witches and wizards remain staunchly conservative on the matter, however, and generally the topic of “marital intimacy” is firmly taboo in public at Hogwarts.

Students are undoubtedly curious, but many will remain pretty naive until they leave school.

You, however, are not ignorant. He’s fairly confident you’ve never indulged in that sort of behavior with anyone else, but your knowledge of what witches and wizards do together, what the two of you might do together is assuredly more robust than his own.

He simply can’t have that.

Sebastian slips Bewitching the Fairer Sexe into his school bag and sneaks back out of the library. He doesn’t crack it open again until he’s back in the dormitory with the curtains pulled tightly around his bed.

At first he doesn’t bother casting Silencio, because that’s not what this is about. He’s stubbornly focused on learning from this text, not on becoming distracted by all the enchanted illustrations of the erogenous zones of a witch’s body, or where exactly one should touch between her thighs to bring her to her climax, or even how a wizard can use his mouth to pleasure her…

Merlin, who is he kidding? Better do a Silencio just in case.

—

Sebastian clings to that book for nearly a full week before he’s caught.

By you, no less, which is horrifically embarrassing.

He’d even kept it hidden from his dormmates with the exception of Ominis, who can always tell when he’s got a secret. He just assures Sebastian that he couldn’t care less about a smutty book as long as it doesn’t involve any phonic components.

But he’d left it underneath his pillow with a single corner sticking out, and that’s all it took for you to find it when you let yourself into the seventh-year wizards’ room to borrow one of your love’s scarves for your afternoon walk down to Hogsmeade.

When you don’t return quickly, Sebastian goes upstairs to track you down.

He’s horrified to discover you sitting cross-legged on his bed, lazily flipping through the book.

“That’s not mine,” he blurts out in a panic.

“It was on your bed,” you counter, barely looking up from its pages. “Under your pillow, even.”

“You’re snooping through my things?” he demands as he feels himself flush red.

“Obviously,” you scoff. “Like you wouldn’t do the same if you could get into my room.”

“That’s not the point,” he insists. “I – will you quit looking at that?!”

“Why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “It’s really quite informative, this book of yours. Not a bad resource.”

He anxiously runs a hand through his hair and mutters, “Merlin’s beard.”

“You know what might have been easier, though?” you say, finally closing the book and leaning over to drop it on Sebastian’s side table.

When he doesn’t answer, you get up from the bed and cross the room to him before taking his hands and placing them firmly on your waist.

“You could have just asked me,” you say softly.

He immediately makes a face.

“What?” you protest.

“I just… I wanted to figure out what I’m doing before coming to you,” he admits. “Felt like I was supposed to.”

“Why’s that?” you ask softly, winding your arms around his shoulders.

“I’m a wizard,” Sebastian says as if it’s supposed to be obvious. “I’m not supposed to be so clueless.”

You gently remind him, “But you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“You’ve never had a boyfriend,” he retorts.

“Sure, but I had Muggle friends,” you explain. “They talk about sex, they’re not as repressed as you wizards.”

“If you think I’m repressed, may I introduce you to Ominis?” Sebastian jokes, and you roll your eyes fondly.

“All I’m saying is, I may know a thing or two,” you murmur as you raise up onto your tiptoes to kiss him. “And we can always talk about what we want.”

As you kiss him, Sebastian stubbornly thinks, I know a thing or two as well now.

His hands drift from your waist down to your hips as he pulls you closer, earning a soft sigh from you that makes him smile against your lips.

“Tell me what you want then,” he asks as his hands continue sliding down to your ass.

“Right now?” you ask softly. “Here?”

“If you want,” he offers. “Everyone else is out for the day, we have all afternoon.”

“Yes,” you gasp, and Sebastian isn’t sure if you’re agreeing with him or reacting to him slipping his hands underneath your skirt to feel your bare skin.

He steals a few more increasingly urgent kisses before breaking away from you to put a quick locking spell on the door.

You return to Sebastian’s bed while he shrugs off his jacket, promptly abandoning it on the floor. His vest and shirt follow while you watch with an expectant look.

Before reaching for his belt, he skeptically looks you up and down. “Why aren’t you taking your clothes off?”

“I was hoping you would do it for me,” you say softly.

Merlin, you are absolutely going to be the death of him one of these days.

Thoughts of his belt abandoned, Sebastian joins you on the bed and cups your face in his hands so he can thoroughly kiss you before getting to work taking off your uniform. By now you’ve both seen a fair bit more of each other than you have of anyone else, but never like this – never fully bare.

Your vest and tie are simple enough as they’re just like his own, but once he starts unbuttoning your shirt, he reveals a whole new layer: a thin chemise that sits just below your shoulders tucked inside a simple white corset that cinches your waist. Its seams drew clear attention to your breasts, and Sebastian wishes he could simply charm the damn thing right off you.

However, he remembers from his reading that you might enjoy being rid of it by his hands instead, slowly building the sort of anticipation that his book had claimed witches crave in the bedroom.

He feels vindicated each time your breath hitches when he slips open another one of the corset’s delicate hooks. Once the garment goes slack and falls open to your sides, he enthusiastically slides his hands beneath your chemise and cups your breasts in his hands.

“Touch me,” you groan, arching your back.

“I am touching you,” he teases.

You whine frustratedly and place your hands over his through your shirt, encouraging him to properly take hold of you.

That won’t do, Sebastian thinks. He wants to reassure you that he is not naive to your pleasure, that he knows exactly where he needs to touch you to drive you mad.

He’s read that you’re sensitive here, especially when you’re wanting for touch. He drags his thumbs over your nipples, both at the same time, and you sigh his name.

If he hasn’t already been growing hard in his trousers, that certainly would have done it.

“Touch you here is what you meant, hmm?” he murmurs as he rubs slow circles over your tender peaks. “Let’s try to be more specific next time, love.”

You don’t even bother telling him to bugger off, which lets him know he’s gotten you worked up already.

You pout endearingly when Sebastian removes his hands from your chest. He assuages you with a quick kiss before coaxing you into arching your back for him again so he can toss the corset to the floor. Then he pulls your chemise up over your head and quickly chucks it away as well. Now he can actually see your chest, already flushed pink from just his hands.

You cry out when he licks one of your stiff nipples and takes it into his mouth. He moans into your skin and sucks at you, remembering having read to be gentle with you here. You reward his efforts by twisting your fingers into his curls to hold him against your breast and stroking your thumb along his hollowed cheek.

Amused, he recalls being a younger student and hearing some of the seventh-year insisting that witches tasted like a wide range of things. Often they insisted the taste was either floral or sweet like sugar candies, but one of them had even claimed he’d pressed his lips to his girlfriend’s chest and tasted elderflower wine.

You don’t taste like any of those things. On his tongue Sebastian notices only the clean taste of warm skin, like when he kisses your neck, and maybe a lingering note of the rosewater perfume you sometimes wear. It’s heady and human and maddeningly perfect.

“Just like that, Seb,” you whine.

Beneath him, your legs fall open wider and your skirt is rucked up to the middle of your thighs. Sebastian thinks it’s a crying shame you’re even still wearing the silly thing, so he pulls away from you with a filthy wet sound and reaches for the clasp at the side of your skirt.

“Lift up,” he murmurs and you tilt your hips so he can tug your skirt down. He easily hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your undergarments as well so that he can get you naked all at once.

You’re a sight straight from one of his daydreams like this – nude and flushed all over with your legs spread in his bed.

He grips his cock through his trousers to give himself some much-needed relief while you observe with a covetous stare.

“I want to see you,” you tell him. “And don’t you dare say ‘you can already see me’ or some nonsense, I want to see your cock.”

“As you wish, love,” he says cheekily.

After undoing his trousers, Sebastian shoves them and his own undergarments down to the middle of his thighs. He can’t resist the urge to stroke himself a few times before letting you take a look.

As far as “wand lengths” go, he never much worried about comparing himself to others; he thought he could safely say that he was at least average. Now though, the seconds feel like minutes underneath your gaze. You’re quite red in the face and your eyes are wider than usual, and he suddenly realizes that it’s the first time anyone else has ever looked at him like this.

He didn’t think it would feel that significant, but it does.

“Well?” Sebastian asks teasingly, desperate for you to say something.

Finally, you stutter, “W-well, you’re definitely bigger than my fingers.”

“Your fingers?” he says. “You mean when you…?”

“Yes,” you squeak. “And now I’m nervous it’s going to hurt.”

He frowns. “Oh.”

“B-but I want to!” you quickly insist. “I just think, um. Maybe we can start with something else?”

“Love,” Sebastian murmurs fondly, leaning down to kiss your jaw. “Of course we’re going to work our way there, I wasn’t ever going to just put it in right away.”

“No?” you sigh distractedly.

“Aren’t you witches supposed to love foreplay?” he teases. “I read all about it in my book.”

“What’s that?” you ask him.

He raises an eyebrow and you continue to stare at him expectantly.

“I thought you were supposed to ‘know a thing or two,’” he says. “Foreplay is everything we do before the actual, er. Penetrative part. Surely you weren’t expecting to just…?”

Everything Sebastian had read had told him that under no circumstances should he press inside you without ensuring you were prepared. He’d poured over the illustrations that instructed him how to use his fingers to stimulate you, how to help acclimate you to feeling full before he filled you with his cock. (He learned he could even use his tongue to do the job, which sounds bloody brilliant.)

“I – I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean, I know you’re going to go inside. And I know how I use my fingers on myself sometimes, but I just…”

You trail off sheepishly. “Maybe I didn’t know as much as I thought.”

Sebastian is quite pleased by this turn of events. “Bet you’re glad I found that book then, aren’t you?”

You scoff and spread your legs a little bit wider. “Let’s see it then, you know-it-all. Show me this ‘foreplay’ of yours.”

He quickly shoves his pants the rest of the way off and kneels between your legs, one hand gently resting on the lowest part of your stomach. He thinks you’re even lovelier between your thighs than the illustrations, with your taut, delicate skin flushed pink and glistening wet at your entrance.

“Just one to start,” he mumbles to himself, pressing the tip of his middle finger against your slit with his palm up just as he’d learned.

Your body opens up for Sebastian so beautifully that if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that this must surely be some kind of ancient magic in itself – perhaps a primordial form as old as wizardkind.

His mouth on you earlier has gotten you plenty wet, and inside you’re soft as silk and feverishly warm. He curses under his breath at the realization that soon enough, he’ll feel this on his cock. (He has no idea how he’ll ever be able to go back to his own hand and some salve after this.)

“Good?” he asks you distractedly.

“Yes,” you sigh.

He glances up to check your expression and finds that your eyes have slipped shut, and there’s a blissful smile on your lips.

Determined to keep you focused, Sebastian murmurs, “Tell me how you use your fingers on yourself.”

“I – I usually use two, maybe three,” you admit shyly. “But my hands are smaller than yours.”

“Do you like to think about anything while you touch yourself?” he asks in a low voice.

You whine like you’re overwhelmed, but your hips cant toward his hand and he can tell what you’re asking for. He pulls out until just the tip of his finger is inside you, and then he presses back in with his index finger tucked alongside it.

“Yes, Seb,” you whimper.

“Go on then, tell me what you think about,” he croons. “I’ll tell you what I think about if you do.”

He starts to fuck his hand into you like that, burying two long fingers in you all the way to the knuckle. Watching you take him inside you like this is a thousand times more captivating than any illustration in any smutty book that’s ever been published, he’s sure of it.

“I can’t,” you protest. “We aren’t supposed to — that’s dirty, talking about that.”

“Dirtier than this?” he asks wryly. “Love, you can tell me anything.”

You stay stubbornly silent until Sebastian presses his thumb to that swollen nub that peeks out just above your entrance, the one that looks like it’s aching to be touched. Just the lightest touch elicits a broken moan out of you.

“Tell me what you think about and I’ll give you a third finger,” he bargains.

“P-please,” you beg. “I just – I just think about you, you on top of me, what your body looks like, it’s always just you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he taunts as he makes good on his word and starts to press his ring finger in alongside the other two.

This time there’s noticeably more resistance. You were right, you do have smaller hands than him and his three longer, masculine fingers are more of a stretch than you typically give yourself. Sebastian laves more attention onto your clit, pressing his thumb against you a bit harder to distract you. You’re still plenty wet, and he assumes that’s a promising sign.

Your brow is furrowed in concentration as you try to relax for his fingers, but you nevertheless remember to demand that he tell you his fantasies.

“You want to know what I think about?” he asks casually. “It’s been the same thing for a while, really.”

“W-what is it?” you ask, stuttering a little when he succeeds in pressing all three fingers deep inside you.

“It’s you, in my bed, moaning my name, begging for me to fuck you,” he tells you. “Every time I stroke myself off, that’s all I need.”

He punctuates each detail with a thrust of his hand. You’re slick all over by now, and Sebastian has to imagine that a lesser wizard would give up at this point and eagerly replace his fingers with his cock.

But he’s not done with you yet. He’d been quite surprised to learn from that wonderful book that many witches can reach multiple climaxes in a row, provided they’re being seen to by a courteous wizard. He wants to give you your first right now, before he becomes distracted by chasing his own.

“Are you going to come, love?” Sebastian asks. “Just from my fingers?”

“N-no, I want to wait until you’re inside me,” you protest weakly, but your hips are rocking up to meet him with every thrust of his hand.

“Let me make you come like this,” he bargains. “I’m not going to stop at one, darling, I’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied.”

Your thighs are properly trembling now – Merlin, you must be right on the edge. That’s when Sebastian gets the idea of leaning down and replacing his thumb on your clit with his tongue.

Immediately his world goes dark as you clamp your thighs around his head and wail.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chant as he seals his lips against your skin. “Seb, please!”

He feels you get even tighter around his fingers when you come. He can barely even move them for several long seconds, so he focuses instead on drawing out your pleasure with his mouth. You hold him there with your legs until you can’t take the stimulation anymore, and when he pulls out of you and sits back on his heels, he imagines he must look mad.

Hair mussed, pupils blown, lips wet… you’ve made an utter fiend out of him.

“Suppose I did alright, then,” he observes with a smirk.

“Sebastian,” you sigh weakly. “Come kiss me.”

He bends down so you can wordlessly express your thanks with a lewd kiss – one that tastes like your own body’s release. It’s erotic, and wanton, and it reminds Sebastian of his aching, ignored cock that’s assuredly leaking all over his sheets by now.

“You must be in a dire state by now,” you observe, lips brushing against his.

“That’s an understatement,” he jokes. “I think I might faint if I wait any longer.”

“Then don’t wait,” you coo. “Go on, Seb, you can.”

He clenches his jaw hard when he sits back to guide his cock against your entrance. There’s no way he’s going to last long in this state, not with you spread open and waiting for him like this. Squeezing his hand around the base of his cock helps a bit while he sinks inside you, but he still feels overpowered by the immensity of the feeling of filling you up.

“Merlin, you’re big,” you hiss. “B-but it’s okay, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” he manages to ask.

You press your hands to his bare chest and he understands that it’s a wordless plea for him to pause, just for a moment. It’s pure torture, but he remains still inside you while you adjust.

“Merlin,” you whisper. “You’re really… we’re really…”

“I’m begging you, don’t say another word,” Sebastian grits out. “Or this will be over right now.”

You giggle, flattered by his admission, and even the motion of your body laughing threatens to put him over the edge.

“You know I don’t care about that,” you tell him softly. “Forget about your pride. I just want you to feel as good as you made me feel.”

Now Sebastian is the one at a loss for words, merely moaning as you drag your hands down his chest to his hips and encourage him to move.

Once he starts, he can’t stop. He tries to remember everything he’d read in that damn book: maintain a steady rhythm, don’t pull out all the way, keep pleasuring her with your hands…

Most of it he quickly disregards. He thinks to himself, how could he be doing this wrong? This feeling, fucking you, it feels like an instinct he never knew he had. He has to fill you over and over with his cock, he simply must.

And judging by the way you’re arching your back and crying out his name while he slams into you, he’s not leaving you unsatisfied.

In fact, he nearly sees stars when you slip a hand between your bodies and hurriedly rub at your clit until you’re coming again in what has to be some sort of record time. Only this time, when you reach your peak and your walls tighten around his cock, there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from falling right over the edge with you.

Sebastian feels properly spent by the time you both come back to your senses. Still buried inside you, he can feel how he’s filled you up with his release. It satisfies something in his feral hindbrain that much prefers spilling inside of you rather than his own hand.

He sees it start to leak out of you when he pulls out, and he recalls reading that a good wizard should offer his witch a rag to clean up after such a marvelous ending. He attempts to climb off the bed to track one down but you hook your leg behind his knee and whine for him to stay.

“I just want to get you–”

“No, I don’t need anything but you,” you insist, reaching for him to tug him down against your body.

Sebastian bests you when it comes to both height and breadth, but you don’t seem to mind his weight pinning you to the mattress. (Though even if you did, there’s hardly room for the two of you to lie beside each other in one of Hogwarts’ infuriatingly small beds.)

You’re both quiet for a while as you enjoy the simplicity of each other’s company, occasionally sharing a few lazy kisses or a whispered reminder of your love.

Eventually, Sebastian drawls, “I reckon I can return that book now.”

“Hold on,” you counter. “There may be some more tricks in there that we might want to try next time.”

“You dirty minx,” he laughs. “I suppose I’ve ‘bewitched’ you, have I?”

“Sebastian Sallow, I was bewitched by you quite long ago,” you tell him. “But we’ll have to wait and see whether that dirty book of yours gives you any more brilliant ideas for what to do with me.”

He thinks he quite likes the sound of that.

[after-witch]

All That Is Real is Reasonable  [Yandere Tserriednich x Reader]

Title: All That Is Real is Reasonable  [Yandere Tserriednich x Reader]

Synopsis: You were looking to read a rare artist’s manuscript, and found your luck when the employee of a wealthy collector offers to let you read the real deal in his hotel room. What could go wrong? 

Word Count: 2000ish

Notes: yandere themes, implied fate worse than death for people (not reader); art pretentiousness; link to the painting referenced in the fic

“I’m sorry, but that collection isn’t available to the general public.”

You press your lips together, a desperate attempt at a smile. The man in front of you does not look impressed. “But if I could just--”

“Ma’am,” the man interrupts, holding the side of his glasses to get a better look at you--or to intimidate you, like some sort of predator staring down its prey. You couldn’t decide which. “I’ve already informed you that it’s simply impossible for you to read the manuscript. Our collection is only open to certain academic institutions, and your credentials simply don’t suffice.”

The sting of his not-so-thinly veiled insult is quickly washed over with a heavy, overpowering disappointment. All this way. You came all this way for nothing. 

“Okay.” Your voice cracks, and you clear it. You’re an adult. Adults don’t cry because they were told they aren’t allowed to see a copy of the personal letters, do they?

You turn around as quickly as you can, heading back towards the atrium of the museum. Your cheeks burn hot and you can feel your chest constricting. Don’t cry, you think--not until you get back to your car. 

“Ah… miss?”

You freeze, almost stumbling over your feet due to the sudden stop. You hear footsteps from behind you, and turn slightly to see a man in a crisp black suit walking up to you. It looks like he followed you out of the library section. But why?

“I hope you don’t mind my eavesdropping,” the man continues. You said you were looking to read the museum’s transcript of Jean-François de Troy, yes?”

The man straightens up, as if he’s proud of what he’s going to tell you. “My employer is currently in possession of the real manuscript. He sent me here to arrange an appointment with the museum today to discuss donating the real papers to the collection--for preservation, of course. But perhaps… well, perhaps you would like to come see them first? My employer is an avid lover of the arts, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind assisting a student in their research.”

Your eyes must look wide enough to set a teacup on, because the man lets out a short, easygoing laugh. You stutter out something like assent, and he only shakes his head in a good-humored way that puts you right at ease.

“Follow me.”

--

The hotel you follow the man into is swankier than anything you’ve ever seen in your life. Even the elevators are fancy, complete with an elevator attendant who politely asks the man which floor and holds the door open while you exit to avoid any unwanted auto-closures.

And if the hotel itself looked swanky, the room--or rooms, as this is not simply some dinky hotel room but a series of elegant suites--is practically a palace. Tapestries and paintings, bookshelves, antiques… 

And then there is a man, sitting on a high-backed chair reading a book, who rises when the two of you enter.  He looks at the man with something that seems to slide between them, silent but sure. A question, or confirmation of something. You can’t quite discern any of it, and the man next to you is merely dismissed with a nod of his head. He doesn’t even say goodbye. 

The strangeness of the moment makes your skin prickle but all of that gets washed over by the sheer magnitude of the art surrounding you. And one painting in particular has you aimlessly walking towards it, eyes wide. It’s by the very artist you sought out at the museum. It’s a painting of a woman in an elegant blue gown reading in a window. One you had seen in picture books, but in person? It was bought by a private collector ages ago, and presumed lost… 

“Do you think it’s pretty?”

Your body jerks, and you feel a little dumb for not realizing the man--Tserriednich, the man from the museum had said, but it’s best not to call him that unless he gives you permission--had walked right up to you while you gaped. 

His voice has a touch of a sneer in it. Not enough to be rude, just enough to pick up on, especially given your already frayed nerves. You’re used enough to that--being dismissed in  your field is nothing new. 

“I… well… it’s… ” What do you say to someone with a hotel room stuffed with treasures worth millions--no--billions? When you glance at the man, you see a look, almost too subtle to be noticed, of annoyance. That you’re wasting his time and might as well leave. You can’t blame him. You sound ridiculous, stuttering over yourself. 

“It doesn’t matter if it’s pretty,” you finally say, rushing out the words and feeling like your tongue has unstuck from your roof for the first time today. 

Tserriednich raises his eyebrow. “No?”

Your gaze turns back to the painting, and you continue. “Well, no.” Your hand goes up to the painting, not touching, but gesturing towards the book in the woman’s hands. “See how the light in the painting is directed towards the pages? We’re meant to focus on the act of reading, not the woman herself.” 

He stares at you, and it’s strange to say, but even the way he blinks feels judgemental. As if he wants you to notice the slow timing of each blink, the way his eyes seem to say: You are a silly thing. But you’re over-analyzing his body language, aren’t you? You’re being a stereotype of an art student, really.

He lifts his own hand, gesturing to the woman’s exposed back. “And yet he took the time to position the woman so that her shoulders, neck and upper back were displayed to the viewer, almost in the same highlighting as the book.” 

You shake your head, a smile, a little laugh in  your voice.

“You’re wrong.” 

You’ve never seen someone visibly bristle before, but there’s no other way to describe the way that his back straightens up, or the way that his mouth sets itself in an impatient frown as you continue, jumping into something you’ve already argued about with professors and one not-so-patient teacher’s assistant.

“He highlights the shoulders, yes. But I think de Troy was tempting us--well, by us I mean his contemporaries who would have viewed the painting--for focusing too much on the implied sensuality of a woman being viewed in such an intimate moment.”

You take a quick breath, and you can’t help but get a little excited, voice rising, as you spill out the contents of your latest thesis on his work. 

“Yes, her neck and shoulders are exposed, and yes the light plays on them…” 

Your hands gesture over the left side of the painting. 

“But look at how her dress and these curtains are almost the same color, like she’s being swallowed up by them. She doesn’t matter… It's the act of reading, the pursuit of knowledge, that we should be focusing on. If you focus on her prettiness, well. You’re wrong. Or… no,” you nod your head, affirming your thoughts to yourself. “Not wrong. But you’re missing the point--looking at the painting via the surface only.”

There is a heavy silence that follows. And you know you’ve spoken out of turn, and you wait for him to ask you to leave for being rude and combative. 

Because Tserriednich is looking very seriously at the painting. Studying it. And then he is looking down at you, and something shifts in his expression. It’s so subtle, that if you weren’t always hyper aware of little details, you might have missed it. He looked at the painting with reverence, analysis, with a keen eye--and now he looks at you like a particularly troublesome thing that doesn’t quite fit. Did you talk too much? Too little? Or maybe you just came on too strong. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, eyes downcast. “I get a little carried away sometimes when it comes to art.”

“Art is your passion,” he says, and it’s not exactly a question. He’s looking you up and down in a way that feels too familiar. It makes you feel like the woman in the painting. You wish you didn’t leave your cardigan in your car--your shoulders feel exposed. 

He huffs out a sigh, and whatever heaviness was there seems to lighten a little. 

“The manuscript, then?” He nods in the direction of an open doorway to your left, and you follow him, eyes darting here and there to take in more of the art in the room.  “What do you plan to do with your degree?”

“I want to publish,” you tell him. “I’ve got so many thoughts I want to share with the world.” You look around the library you’ve been led into, and it’s hard not to gape here, too. More art, shelves and shelves of books… and doors. Including a rather  unusual door with a hefty electronic lock on the side. Something even more priceless than the paintings on the walls, perhaps?

While he heads off to a shelf, presumably to grab the manuscript you came all this way to see, you can’t help but take a peek at the book laid out on an ornate desk near the window. 

“The Phenomenology of Spirit?”

He returns from the shelves, and there’s nothing in his hands, but you’re too distracted to really give it much thought. He has something like amusement on his face, and you know it all too well. He thinks you don’t know what you’re looking at and he will condescendingly explain it--in big or short words, time will only tell--to you. 

“It’s by--”

“Hegel,” you interrupt. “I know. I’ve read it.”

This time, when his eyebrows raise, there is no annoyance but something much simpler. Curiosity mingled with a bit of disbelief. 

You find that you like it. Who doesn’t love surprising someone arrogant, after all?

Your fingers trace over the cover--and you can see him bristle, out of the corner of your eye, and it’s only your inherent good nature that wills you to take your hands off his book.

“The spirit is never at rest but always engaged in ever progressive motion, in giving itself a new form.”

“And?” You can’t shake the feeling, when he looks at you, that he’s sizing you up. Maybe it’s a test to see if you’re worthy of reading the manuscript or something ridiculous like that. 

You shrug. “I prefer Rousseau.” You don’t wait for him to respond to continue, reciting one of your favorite Rousseau lines. “Life is not breath, but action, the use of our senses, our mind, our faculties, every part of ourselves which makes us conscious of our being.”

He hums, and perhaps there’s something akin to approval in it, but doesn’t say anything more. And then he turns, gesturing towards the myriad of art pieces around you.

“What do you think of my collection?” 

Honesty is not always the best policy, and you’d hate to be rude. His collection is expensive, sure. But that doesn’t mean it’s something you find particularly worthwhile. 

“It’s… nice.”

“Nice?” He scoffs, and there’s another moment where you think he’s going to tell you to leave. But instead he looks down on you again, disdain mingled with seemingly genuine interest. “Explain.” 

“I... can't say I see the appeal,” you offer. You don’t want him to make you leave, but--you get the feeling lying would be somewhere worse. You glance at the works, and think about the ones you saw in the other room.

“Most of them are so lofty, big, symbolic. Famous events.” You shrug, and try to meet his eyes, but something about him makes you want to look away. He’s too analytical. Like you’re an object or painting yourself, and he’s not sure if he finds you artistic enough to frame or deems you better left in storage. 

“I find works depicting ordinary life to be far more worthwhile. Anyone can paint a scene from mythology, but…” You think back to the woman reading, to your favorite paintings depicting simple scenes. “Life's little moments? I find them more valuable than anything. The promise or disappointments of life, captured on canvas.”

You expect him to look angry when you’re finished, but instead he looks amused. He smiles.

“That’s cute. You don’t see the bigger picture in any of it, do you?”

It’s your turn to bristle now. “Excuse me?”

“It can’t be helped.” He’s too close to you now, and his hand reaches out and catches your chin. You find yourself blushing, terrified, and flattered at once. “It’s not in your nature to see the big picture. It’s simply impossible.. Not without someone superior instructing you, although even then, I’m not sure you'll be able to do more than parrot what I tell you...” 

He turns your head from side to side, like you’re some sort of prize at the market. Finally, he speaks with a sense of decision. Only you don’t know what decision he’s made, and it makes your stomach turn. “Yes. I want to see more from you. I think you’ll be… transcendent.” 

You get the nerve to jerk away just as he lets go of your chin. His words barely register with your heart hammering in your chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He ignores you. Instead, he turns, and walks toward that elegant door with the strange combination lock on it. “I have another collection.” There’s a thickness to his voice--a terrible anticipation. “I want your opinion on it.”

Your feet refuse to move. You know, somehow, that whatever is behind that door is not something you want to see. So you’ll decline. Easy as that, right? This really was a silly decision, to come here, to some eccentric art collector’s hotel room. 

“I… think I’ll pass.” You swallow hard and tight. “In fact, I think I’ll get going.”  Your legs seemingly gain the ability to move again, and you take a step backward. “I’ll try my chances at the museum again. I don’t want to waste your time. But thank you--”

He turns--just turns, a little, and stares at you with an expression that pins you to the floor. 

He leans his head back a little, staring at the ceiling and cracking a smile. “It’s inevitable. It’s not like you can help it, right?  You are what you are, even if you aren’t a complete waste.” 

He finally does cross the room, and grips your upper arm with an ease that leaves you gasping. 

“What--” Your legs do find the will to move, but you can’t get anywhere. Struggling doesn’t even budge him, and it’s like you can feel a hole burning in your stomach as uncertainty and realization of a bad situation flood into your senses all at once. You force your voice to stay steady, force your breath to come in slow. “I-I’d like to go, please.” 

He doesn’t let you go. All he does is sigh and shake his head. 

“Lucky you. That degree isn’t entirely useless. You’re much better than the others from this city.” A frown, to himself more than to you. He mumbles something, you can’t be sure what--you only hear the words shoulders and books and Rousseau. “But you need to be corrected on some things before I can be sure what to do with you.” 

You think, as he pulls you toward the room with the combination lock, that you’d have been better off staying at the museum.

[nerdygaymormon]

Idk if you'd know this, but has the Word of Wisdom been properly canonized in the Church or are we just... Trusting it? Not that God hasnt asked people to change their diets before, but I'm curious to know how vetted it is.

The short answer is if it is in the scriptures, then it has been canonized. Since the Word of Wisdom is in the Doctrine & Covenants, it is considered part of the LDS canon.

In the LDS Church, usually something is considered canonized if it is included in the scriptures (there's two notable exceptions, each regarding the Bible). The LDS Church currently has 4 books in its scriptural canon:

1. Authorized King James Version as the official scriptural text of the Bible (other versions of the Bible are used in non-English-speaking countries). Although there's two exceptions to this:

a) The manuscripts of the Joseph Smith Translation of the Bible states that "the Songs of Solomon are not inspired scripture," and therefore it is not included in LDS canon and rarely studied by members of the LDS Church. However, it is still printed in every version of the King James Bible published by the church.

b) Although the Apocrypha was part of the 1611 edition of the KJV, the LDS Church does not use the Apocrypha as part of its canon. Joseph Smith taught that while the Apocrypha was not to be relied on for doctrine, it was potentially useful when read with a spirit of discernment.

2. Book of Mormon

3. Doctrine and Covenants (D&C)

4. Pearl of Great Price (containing the Book of Moses, the Book of Abraham, Joseph Smith–Matthew, Joseph Smith–History, and the Articles of Faith)

The LDS Church's scriptures are printed together with several non-canonized study aids, including the maps, photographs, a Bible Dictionary, a gazetteer, summaries at the beginning of each chapter, a topical guide, an index, footnotes, cross references, and excerpts from Joseph Smith Translation of the Bible

LDS Church president Harold B. Lee taught "The only one authorized to bring forth any new doctrine is the President of the Church, who, when he does, will declare it as revelation from God, and it will be so accepted by the Council of the Twelve and sustained by the body of the Church." Here is the history of this happening in the LDS Church:

June 9, 1830: First conference of the church, The Articles and Covenants of the Church of Christ, now known as D&C 20. If the Bible and Book of Mormon were not sustained on April 6th at the first meeting of the Church, then they were by default when the Articles and Covenants were sustained. (see D&C 20:8-11)

August 17, 1835: Select revelations from Joseph Smith were unanimously accepted as scripture. These were later printed in the D&C. (this includes the Word of Wisdom)

October 10, 1880: The Pearl of Great Price was unanimously sustained as scripture. Also at that time, other revelations in the Doctrine and Covenants – which had not been accepted as scripture in 1835 because they were received after that date – were unanimously accepted as scripture.

October 6, 1890: Official Declaration 1 was accepted unanimously as scripture. It later began to be published in the Doctrine and Covenants.

April 3, 1976: Two visions (one received by Joseph Smith and the other by Joseph F. Smith) were sustained as scripture and added to the Pearl of Great Price. (The two visions were later moved to the D&C as sections 137 and 138.)

September 30, 1978: Official Declaration 2 was sustained unanimously as scripture. It immediately was added to the Doctrine and Covenants.

————————————————————

The revelation known as the Word of Wisdom was received in 1833 and first published by the Church in the 1835 Doctrine and Covenants, it was viewed as scripture but wasn't seen as binding for many years. The original revelation was given “not by commandment or constraint,” but rather as a “word of wisdom.” It would take decades for it to be accepted as a requirement for Latter-day Saints

In 1834, the Kirtland high council decided that those who were taught the Word of Wisdom but didn't follow it were unworthy to hold an office in the Church. A few years later the Missouri high council made a similar decision. Records indicate there were some members who were reprimanded for not following the Word of Wisdom, and even excommunicated for a pattern of disobedience. Which is interesting since the revelation only describes blessings for keeping it and does not give punishments for not following it.

During the Nauvoo period, the Word of Wisdom was not emphasized and there seems to have been a more relaxed attitude about it.

In 1842, Hyrum Smith said that 'hot drinks' refers to coffee and tea. Ever since this has been the accepted interpretation.

After the Saints moved to Utah, in the 1851 General Conference, Church patriarch John Smith spoke on the Word of Wisdom and Brigham Young proposed all Saints formally covenant to abstain from those things prohibited in the Word of Wisdom. (This seems to be where the attitude of only those parts of the Word of Wisdom, what to avoid, are emphasized but not the parts of what we should eat). Despite this, it seems even Brigham Young didn't completely follow this instruction until 1862.

In the 1860s and 70s, there was a renewed emphasis on the Word of Wisdom, but it was not required as a test of membership.

In 1883, the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve commit to more fully live the Word of Wisdom, and others are encouraged to follow their example. By 1900, the majority of general and local leaders were following it.

In 1902, leaders were being instructed to refuse temple recommends to flagrant violators of the Word of Wisdom, though to still be lenient with others.

In 1905, it was taught that following the Word of Wisdom is a requirement to hold leadership positions.

In 1906, the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve began using water instead of wine in their sacrament meetings.

By 1915, living the Word of Wisdom was required for young or middle-aged men to be ordained to the priesthood or be given a temple recommend.

In 1921, adherence to the Word of Wisdom was required to be admitted to the temple.

————————————————————

For me, personally, I'm fine with the Word of Wisdom. Dietary rules are common in religion. Judaism, Islam, Sikhism, and Hinduism also have dietary codes.

In a way, such codes can feel like a parent who is concerned about what you're eating for lunch, it's a way of showing concern for us. However, I think there are two main purposes to such codes.

One is to implement health rules about what to eat, including sanitary measures, and how to ethically/morally approach eating meat (or forbidding meat) because it requires the death of another living creature.

The other purpose of these codes is they are a way to distinguish us as a group, to separate us from other people amongst whom we live. If we're at a company meeting where food is served, Mormons may notice who else has chosen not to have coffee or tea and wonder if they're also members of the LDS church, while non-members are unaware of this shibboleth.

To go along with these codes as cultural markers, I have observed that when someone is separating themselves from the LDS church, often one of the first things they'll do is have their first beer or cup of coffee. It’s s way of breaking that identity marker.

It is interesting that the Word of Wisdom includes prohibitions against alcohol when the consumption of wine is widely reported in the Bible. It highlights that there isn't consistency among these different religious dietary codes.

I think of Peter's vision in the New Testament where he is commanded to eat animals which were prohibited under Jewish law. God declares that all these animals are clean, meaning they are okay to eat. And the apostle Paul taught that non-Jewish converts were not required to eat kosher, however it would be helpful if they'd abstain from eating unkosher foods around their Jewish fellows so as not to offend them.

These two stories inform my opinion about the Word of Wisdom. I am LDS and follow our traditions against coffee, tea, tobacco, and alcohol, however I don't view breaking these norms as a sin. The revelation specifically says this is not a commandment, so it seems to me to be more of a cultural marker. One reason I choose to not drink coffee is it would concern or offend my fellow LDS friends, some because they think of it as a sin and others because they see it as me separating myself from this community

[theink-stainedfolk]

WIP TOUR TAG

Thaank you for the tag @thecomfywriter ♡♡♡♡♡♡

1. A Matter of Time

Places I recommend to visit:

- Timeless Treasures Antique Shop: A cozy, dimly lit shop filled with rare and mysterious artifacts. The scent of old books and polished wood fills the air. The shelves are lined with unique items from across the ages—each piece with its own story to tell. It's a place where time seems to stand still, and the deeper you explore, the more secrets you uncover.

- University Courtyard: A peaceful, sun-dappled courtyard at the heart of a prestigious university. The ivy-covered walls and ancient trees give it a serene atmosphere. Yet, beneath its tranquil surface, whispers of long-forgotten secrets linger in the air.

Who are the tour guides?

- Xavian: Cool and collected, Xavian would guide visitors with a mix of curiosity and nonchalance. He'd casually share the history of each artifact in Timeless Treasures, revealing only what he wants you to know. Occasionally, he’d hint at the deeper mysteries, leaving you wanting more.

- Garin: Silent and mysterious, Garin would lead visitors through the university grounds, pointing out seemingly mundane details with a knowing smile. He’d occasionally disappear, only to reappear just when you thought you were lost, keeping the tour intriguing and slightly unnerving.

Which OC would do something memorable on the tour?

- Garin would suddenly produce a seemingly ordinary object from his pocket—a silver pocket watch—and tell a haunting story about its previous owner. As the story unfolds, the watch’s ticking grows louder, only to stop abruptly when he finishes. He’d then hand it to you, saying, “Take care of it. Time has a way of slipping through your fingers.”

Souvenirs! What are they?

- Miniature Hourglasses: Each one filled with sand from different eras, representing the passage of time and the mysteries held within it.

- Antique Key: A beautifully crafted key, said to unlock the hidden potential within its owner—or perhaps something else entirely.

---

Shades of Erudition

Places I Recommend Going:

- The Grand Library: An awe-inspiring, labyrinthine library filled with ancient tomes, scrolls, and manuscripts. The smell of parchment and ink fills the air as soft candlelight flickers in the massive chandeliers overhead. The library holds knowledge from every corner of the world, with hidden sections accessible only to those who know the right incantations.

- Alethea’s Secret Garden: A secluded, enchanting garden where rare and exotic plants flourish. The air is thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of rustling leaves. The garden is a place of solitude and reflection, perfect for those seeking wisdom and inspiration.

Who are the tour guides?

- Asterion ‘Aster’ Carter: With an air of quiet confidence, Aster would guide visitors through the Grand Library, offering snippets of profound wisdom and obscure knowledge. He’d challenge you to think deeper and question everything, making the tour a cerebral adventure.

- Alethea Pierce: Alethea would lead visitors through her garden, sharing the healing properties of each plant and the hidden meanings behind their names. Her calm demeanor would make the tour soothing, yet each of her words would carry weight and significance.

Which OC would do something memorable on the tour?

- Asterion ‘Aster’ Carter would take you to a hidden alcove in the library, where he’d reveal a forbidden book that holds the answer to one of your deepest questions. But be warned—reading it comes with a price, one that only you can decide if you’re willing to pay.

Souvenirs! What are they?

- Leather-Bound Journals: Beautifully crafted journals, each inscribed with a different quote about the power of knowledge. The pages are enchanted to never run out, allowing you to document your own journey into wisdom.

- Herbal Elixirs: Small bottles of elixirs made from the rare plants in Alethea’s garden, each with a unique effect—clarity of mind, peaceful sleep, or a burst of inspiration.

---

In The Silence, Strength

Places I Recommend Going:

- The Queen’s Court: A grand, majestic hall filled with the opulence of a bygone era. The walls are lined with intricate tapestries and the ceiling is adorned with a magnificent chandelier. Here, power plays out in whispers and subtle glances, where every step echoes with history.

- The Sanctuary of Emrys: A hidden chamber deep within the palace, accessible only to a select few. It’s a place of tranquility and protection, where Livan finds solace. The air is filled with the scent of incense, and the walls are lined with ancient runes that glow faintly, creating an aura of safety.

Who are the tour guides?

- Livan Arklight: Livan, with his regal presence and sharp intellect, would guide important visitors through the Queen’s Court. He’d share stories of the court’s history and the political games played within its walls. His tone would be formal yet with an underlying warmth, inviting you to understand the weight of responsibility he carries.

- Emrys: With a protective and watchful eye, Emrys would lead you through the Sanctuary, explaining the significance of the runes and the importance of safeguarding the Queen and Livan. His words would be few, but each would carry the weight of his loyalty and dedication.

Which OC would do something memorable on the tour?

- Livan Arklight would offer you a glimpse of his personal diary (👀👀👀 only lucky people), revealing a few pages that detail his thoughts on the kingdom's future. This act of trust would leave a lasting impression, showing the depth of his character and the burdens he bears.

Souvenirs! What are they?

- Rune-Carved Amulets: These amulets, blessed with ancient magic, are said to protect the wearer from harm. Each one is unique, with a different rune representing different forms of protection—physical, emotional, or spiritual.

- Royal Crest Pins: Elegant pins bearing the crest of Livan’s family, a symbol of loyalty and honor. Wearing one signifies allegiance to the royal family and their values.

---

The Masque of Murder

Places I recommend Going:

- The Thorncroft Estate: A sprawling, gothic mansion with darkened halls and shadowy corners. The walls are lined with portraits of the Thorncroft ancestors, each with a story of their own. The estate is a place of secrets, where every door leads to another mystery waiting to be unraveled.

- The Veritas Order’s Headquarters: A hidden fortress, concealed within the heart of the city. The building is austere, with a solemn atmosphere. Within its walls, the Order works tirelessly to uncover the truth, no matter how dangerous or unsettling it may be.

Who are the tour guides?

- Phineas Abel Thorncroft: With an unsettling calmness, Phineas would guide you through his estate, pointing out the various artifacts and oddities he’s collected. His explanations would be detailed, yet there’s always an underlying sense of something more sinister lurking beneath his words.

- Simeon Montrose: Stoic and determined, Simeon would lead you through the Veritas Order’s headquarters, explaining their mission to uncover the truth in a world full of lies. His tone would be serious, and he’d share stories of past cases, each one more chilling than the last.

Which OC would do something memorable on the tour?

- Phineas Abel Thorncroft would unexpectedly invite you into his private study, where he’d offer to conduct a psychological assessment—analyzing your deepest fears and desires. He’d present his findings with eerie accuracy, leaving you with more questions about yourself than when you arrived.

Souvenirs! What are they?

- Handwritten Letters: These letters, written by various members of the Thorncroft family, offer glimpses into the family’s dark past. Each letter is filled with cryptic messages and clues that may or may not be related to the estate’s secrets.

- Veritas Order Seal: A small, intricately designed seal used by the Order to mark official documents. It’s a symbol of truth and justice, and carrying it is said to grant the bearer insight into hidden truths.

---

The Tale Of The King & His Knight

Places I Recommend Going:

1. The Gilded Throne Room : The heart of the royal palace, the Gilded Throne Room is where King Mirique once sat in isolation, under the watchful eye of Minister Farnak. The room is adorned with golden tapestries and intricate carvings that depict the kingdom's history. The air here is thick with the weight of centuries of power and tradition, making it a must-visit for anyone wishing to understand the burden of the crown. The Gilded Throne Room is a vast, cavernous space, with high ceilings that echo with every step. The throne itself, an ornate masterpiece of gold and velvet, sits atop a raised platform, flanked by towering statues of past kings. Sunlight filters through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the marble floors. Despite its grandeur, the room feels cold, a symbol of the loneliness that comes with power.

2. The Whispering Forest : Just beyond the palace walls lies the Whispering Forest, a place of ancient magic and mystery. The trees here are said to murmur secrets to those who listen closely, and it's believed that this is where the old man who gave Mirique the poison once resided. The forest is both beautiful and eerie, with a sense of enchantment that lingers in the air. The Whispering Forest is a labyrinth of towering, twisted trees, their branches intertwining to form a natural canopy. The ground is soft with moss, and shafts of light break through the foliage, illuminating patches of wildflowers. The air is filled with the rustle of leaves and the soft, almost imperceptible murmurs of the forest itself, as if the trees are sharing their ancient wisdom.

3. The Knight’s Hall: The Knight's Hall, where the kingdom's bravest warriors once trained, is now a haunting reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of duty. It's a place of honor and sorrow, where the echoes of battles fought and lives lost still resonate. The Knight’s Hall is a long, stone chamber lined with suits of armor and weapons on display. The walls are adorned with banners bearing the crests of fallen knights. The air is thick with the scent of steel and the memories of countless drills and duels. Torches flicker along the walls, casting shadows that dance like specters of the past.

Who Are the Tour Guides?

1. Famien Hywell Lorcus: Famien is the main tour guide, leading visitors through the more somber and reflective parts of the tour. His calm, stoic demeanor makes him the perfect guide for exploring the deeper history and emotional weight of the kingdom. He would explain the significance of each location with reverence and a deep respect for tradition.

2. Mirique Nenjassik Fiera Khemed : Mirique, now more confident after his experiences, offers a more personal and introspective perspective on the tour. He shares stories of his own struggles and the lessons he’s learned, adding a touch of vulnerability and honesty to the experience. He might take the visitors to hidden corners of the palace that he used to retreat to, revealing secrets and hidden passages that even Famien might not know.

Memorable Moments on the Tour

1. Famien might decide to demonstrate a traditional sword-fighting technique in the Knight’s Hall, offering visitors a glimpse into the discipline and skill required to be a knight. His precise, controlled movements reflect his dedication to his craft, leaving a lasting impression on the guests.

2. As the tour reaches the Gilded Throne Room, Mirique might pause and reflect aloud on his journey, his struggles with power, and his newfound understanding of leadership. His words would be deeply personal, offering visitors a rare insight into the mind of a king who has suffered and grown.

Souvenirs! What are they?

1. Miniature Knight’s Crest: A small, intricately crafted metal emblem bearing the crest of the Knight’s Hall, representing the honor and duty of the kingdom’s protectors. It serves as a reminder of the bravery and sacrifice of the knights who served the crown.

2. Whispering Forest Amulet: A delicate pendant containing a small vial of earth or a pressed flower from the Whispering Forest, encased in glass. It’s said to carry a touch of the forest’s magic, bringing protection and wisdom to those who wear it.

3. King’s Seal Wax Stamp: A replica of the royal seal used by King Mirique, this wax stamp allows visitors to create their own royal decrees or letters, reminiscent of the authority and responsibility that comes with leadership.

---

The Double Game

1. My Recommendations (Places in This Story I Recommend):

- The Veil's Hidden Stronghold: Deep beneath the bustling city, The Veil’s stronghold is a network of underground tunnels and chambers, known only to the highest-ranking members. Dimly lit by flickering lights, the walls are covered in cryptic symbols, maps, and blueprints of their next heist. The air is thick with tension and the scent of leather and gunpowder. In the heart of the stronghold is the command center, where Jaci and other key members plan their operations. This is a place of secrets, where power is forged in the shadows and loyalty is both a weapon and a chain.

- The Sentinel Task Force Headquarters: A sleek, modern facility, the Sentinel Task Force Headquarters is the nerve center of the city’s fight against crime. The building stands tall with glass walls that reflect the city skyline. Inside, the atmosphere is one of disciplined urgency, with agents moving swiftly between briefings, strategy sessions, and the high-tech operations room. The walls are lined with case files and surveillance photos, a constant reminder of the enemies they face. The headquarters is where justice is planned with precision, and where Pandora leads her team with unwavering determination.

- The Neon Quarter: Known for its vibrant nightlife and seedy underbelly, the Neon Quarter is where the city’s bright lights cast long shadows. Neon signs buzz above crowded streets filled with bars, clubs, and gambling dens. The air is thick with the scent of street food and the hum of conversations in various languages. This is a place of both opportunity and danger, where deals are made, and lives are changed in an instant. The streets are always alive, but they’re also a battleground where alliances are formed and broken in the blink of an eye.

2. Who are the Tour Guides?

- Jaci (The Right-Hand Man of The Veil): Jaci would guide you through The Veil’s stronghold, giving you an insider’s view of the criminal organization. He would speak in a calm, confident tone, explaining the significance of different symbols and introducing you to key figures within the gang. He might share some of the organization’s history, along with a few carefully chosen secrets that show just how powerful The Veil is.

- Pandora (Leader of the Sentinel Task Force): Pandora would take you through the Sentinel Task Force Headquarters, explaining the complex operations that keep the city safe. She would demonstrate the latest technology the task force uses to track criminals, giving you a glimpse into the high-stakes world of law enforcement. Her tour would be efficient and no-nonsense, much like herself, with a focus on how every detail matters in the fight against crime.

- Elidis (The Undercover Officer): Elidis would take you on a tour of the Neon Quarter, showing you both its glamorous and dangerous sides. As someone who knows the streets well, they would point out the hidden corners where deals go down and where the city's pulse beats fastest. Elidis would offer insights into how they navigate this chaotic environment while maintaining their cover. The tour would be filled with anecdotes about close calls and the delicate balance of living a double life.

Phoenix (The Undercover Criminal): Phoenix would guide you through the less glamorous parts of the Sentinel Task Force Headquarters—the back alleys, the storage rooms, and the secret meeting spots he uses to relay information back to The Veil. He would share stories of the risks he’s taken to maintain his cover and how he’s managed to stay one step ahead of both the criminals and the police. His tour would be a thrilling mix of cunning strategies and quick thinking.

3. Would My Characters Do Something Memorable on the Tour?

- Jaci: During the tour of The Veil's stronghold, Jaci might give you a brief, hands-on demonstration of how to decode a message using the organization's secret cipher. He’d choose a relatively simple message but leave you with the thrill of uncovering hidden information. His calm demeanor would make it clear that in The Veil, knowledge is power, and trust is earned.

- Pandora: At the Sentinel Task Force Headquarters, Pandora might let you participate in a mock surveillance operation. You’d get to analyze footage from hidden cameras, looking for suspicious activity. Under her guidance, you’d feel the intensity of the task force’s work, and maybe even catch a glimpse of The Veil’s movements, all while Pandora ensures that you understand the gravity of their mission.

- Elidis: In the Neon Quarter, Elidis might take you into a hidden alley where they reveal a hidden stash of counterfeit bills or a secret weapon cache, showing you just how deeply they’ve infiltrated the criminal underworld. They’d do this in a way that feels both thrilling and a bit risky, giving you a taste of the danger that comes with living on the edge.

Phoenix: During his tour, Phoenix might lead you to an inconspicuous room where he’s hidden evidence that could take down a high-ranking officer or expose a major flaw in the task force. He’d let you in on the secret, showing you how he manipulates both sides to his advantage. As a keepsake, he might even teach you a simple trick to hack into a basic security system—just a taste of his world of deception and danger.

4. Souvenirs! What Are They?

- A small, intricately carved coin with The Veil’s symbol on one side. It’s not just a token—it’s a reminder of the organization's reach and the fine line between loyalty and betrayal.

- A sleek, black USB drive containing encrypted files that simulate a real-life investigation. The files are a puzzle that, when solved, reveal a hidden message from Pandora herself, a challenge to test your wits.

- A neon keychain in the shape of a crescent moon, a symbol of the Neon Quarter. It glows in the dark and has a hidden compartment where you can store a tiny keepsake, much like the secrets Elidis keeps in their dangerous double life.

- A sleek, black lock-pick set engraved with the initials "P.R."—a subtle nod to his double life. It’s small, discreet, and could come in handy, much like the tools Phoenix uses to navigate his dangerous world of subterfuge.

---

I'll tag @finickyfelix @willtheweaver @leahnardo-da-veggie @illarian-rambling @winglesswriter @paeliae-occasionally @the-golden-comet @roarintheheavens @drchenquill @wyked-ao3

[muspeccoll]

Manuscript Monday comes to you with a nearly complete fifteenth-century Book of Hours from the Convent of Santi Giovanni e Paolo in Venice. This manuscript has two sections, the second having been added to the first within a generation of the book's manufacture. The first section of the manuscript (fols. 1-270) contains a standard Italian Dominican Book of Hours with a kalendar, Hours of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Office of the Dead, Penitential psalms, and Short Hours of the Cross. Exceptionally, unusual, however, are the contents of section two, which opens with a rare Office of the Glorious Virgin, followed by two Marian litanies. Such litanies multiplied in the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and these follow the standard pattern of calling on the Virgin by her attributes, as a mother, brides, spouse, intercessor, etc. Learn more about this manuscript at the link below:

[mappingthemoon]

Books Read 2023

Good Talk: A Memoir in Conversations / Mira Jacob

A Grief Observed / C. S. Lewis

Grit Lit: A Rough South Reader / ed. Brian Carpenter & Tom Franklin

Two or Three Things I Know for Sure / Dorothy Allison

Weather: Air Masses, Clouds, Rainfall, Storms, Weather Maps, Climate (A Golden Nature Guide) / Paul E. Lehr, R. Will Burnett, Herbert S. Zim ; Harry McNaught (ill.)

Improbable Memories / Sarah Moon

Endless Endless: A Lo-Fi History of the Elephant 6 Mystery / Adam Clair

The Difference Between / Billy McCall

The Submissive (The Submissive #1) / Tara Sue Me

Last Night at the Casino [v. 1] / Billy McCall

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing / Marie Kondo ; Cathy Hirano (tr.)

Pnin / Vladimir Nabokov

My Heart Is a Chainsaw / Stephen Graham Jones

"Waltz of the Body Snatchers" / Alfred Bester, in Andromeda I: An original SF anthology / ed. Peter Weston

Blue Highways: A Journey Into America / William Least Heat-Moon

The Stars My Destination (The Gregg Press Science Fiction Series) / Alfred Bester

Laughter in the Dark / Vladimir Nabokov

Man and His Symbols / Carl G. Jung

Mysteries of the Unexplained / ed. Carroll C. Calkins

The Westing Game / Ellen Raskin

The Seven Ages / Louise Glück

The Wild Iris / Louise Glück

Vita Nova / Louise Glück

Doctor Who: Impossible Worlds: A 50-Year Treasury of Art and Design / Stephen Nicholas & Mike Tucker

Where's Waldo? (Where's Waldo #1) / Martin Handford

Where's Waldo? The Fantastic Journey (Where's Waldo #3) / Martin Handford

Doctor Who 50 Years #3: The Doctors / ed. Marcus Hearn

Rabbit, Run / John Updike

Mother Night / Kurt Vonnegut

Descriptive Cataloging of Rare Materials (Books) / Bibliographic Standards Committee, Rare Books and Manuscripts Section, Association of College and Research Libraries, in collaboration with The Policy Standards Office of the Library of Congress

"Descriptive Bibliography" / Terry Belanger, in Book Collecting: A Modern Guide / ed. Jean Peters

The Essential Doctor Who #2: The TARDIS / ed. Marcus Hearn

Speak, Memory: An Autobiography Revisited / Vladimir Nabokov

Chicago: City on the Make / Nelson Algren

Gustav Klimt, 1862-1918 / Gilles Néret

American Gods: A Novel / Neil Gaiman

Marcel Duchamp, 1887-1968: Art as Anti-Art / Janis Mink

The Empathy Exams: Essays / Leslie Jamison

Let Us Now Praise Famous Men: Three Tenant Families / James Agee & Walker Evans

Hallucination Orbit: Psychology in Science Fiction / ed. Isaac Asimov, Charles G. Waugh, Martin H. Greenberg

Dream Street: W. Eugene Smith's Pittsburgh Project / W. Eugene Smith ; ed. Sam Stephenson

Twilight / Gregory Crewdson ; Rick Moody

Magic Eye: A New Way of Looking at the World / N.E. Thing Enterprises

Bowie: Stardust, Rayguns & Moonage Daydreams / Steve Horton & Michael Allred ; Laura Allred (ill.)

After the Ecstasy, the Laundry: How the Heart Grows Wise on the Spiritual Path / Jack Kornfield

The Gin Closet: A Novel / Leslie Jamison

The New Kid on the Block / Jack Prelutsky ; James Stevenson (ill.)

A Book of Common Prayer / Joan Didion

Mariette in Ecstasy / Ron Hansen

Camp Damascus / Chuck Tingle

The Mass Production of Memory: Travel and Personal Archiving in the Age of the Kodak (Public History in Historical Perspective) / Tammy S. Gordon

Unfathomable City: A New Orleans Atlas / Rebecca Solnit & Rebecca Snedeker

Other Voices, Other Rooms / Truman Capote

Fabulous New Orleans / Lyle Saxon ; E.H. Suydam (ill.)

Weird Pennsylvania: Your Travel Guide to Pennsylvania's Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets / Matt Lake

Griffin & Sabine: An Extraordinary Correspondence (Griffin & Sabine #1) / Nick Bantock

Sabine's Notebook: In Which The Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin & Sabine Continues (Griffin & Sabine #2) / Nick Bantock

The Golden Mean: In Which The Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin & Sabine Concludes (Griffin & Sabine #3) / Nick Bantock

Breath, Eyes, Memory / Edwidge Danticat

Last Night at the Casino, v. 2 / Billy McCall

What If? Serious Scientific Answers to Absurd Hypothetical Questions / Randall Munroe

Collection-Level Cataloging: Bound-with Books (Third Millennium Cataloging) / Jain Fletcher

Speaking Pittsburghese: The Story of a Dialect (Oxford Studies in Sociolinguistics) / Barbara Johnstone

My Misspent Youth: Essays / Meghan Daum

Slender Intuition: Essays on Artist's Block / Brian Hitselberger

The Mister / E L James

Crapalachia: A Biography of a Place / Scott McClanahan

The Transcriptionist: A Novel / Amy Rowland

Explanations/Opinions below the cut:

Ok so I have several reading lists/stacks that I rotate through: my to-read spreadsheet (which has almost 300 titles listed in chronological order by date added, with the oldest being from 8/22/2014), my to-read bookcase/nightstand (which holds ~50 books I’ve acquired over the past few years but haven’t yet read), a stack of oversized unreads that don’t fit on the nightstand shelves (this gets its own list bc I need to read them and find a permanent home for them before the stack gets too tall), and “interruptions” (books that override the list order bc I didn’t want to wait to read them, for whatever reason).

Maybe it’s weird that I’m so attached to reading things “in order”? Idk. I’ve always been like this. It’s only a mild compulsion – obviously, I am perfectly capable of ignoring what’s supposed to be next on the list, in favor of reading something that catches my interest more strongly in the moment, but in general, I like to read things either in the order I added them to the list, or the order I personally acquired a physical copy (if I went by the list only, I’d be drowning in unread books [yay, college town thrift stores], so I gotta stay on top of that pile pretty regularly). So that is why I am often reading things that I first became aware of/added to my list nearly 10 years ago. Sometimes this practice results in feelings like, “Dang, I wish I would’ve actually read this 10 years ago,” but also sometimes, “WOW, I’m so glad I’m reading this RIGHT NOW, as opposed to 10 years ago when I first heard about it!”

I think my favorites this year were Mariette in Ecstasy; Other Voices, Other Rooms; Crapalachia; and Speak, Memory.

Mild disappointments were the essay collections by Leslie Jamison and Meghan Daum, two authors I’m pretty sure I discovered via popular and relateable quotes reblogged on tumblr ca. 2014, but the collections taken as a whole just had too many moments of cringe – casual classism, arrogant self-absorption, and other annoying and unrelateable qualities typical of privileged 20-something writers (this tone definitely appealed to me when I was a naïve and melodramatic snotty 20-something, so there’s that).

As a kind of memorial, Rachael and I read David’s three favorite books: The Stars My Destination, Mother Night, and American Gods. In all the time I knew him, including all the times we used to sit on the porch together, reading quietly while he drank whiskey, I never thought to ask him his favorites. I kept looking for pieces of him in the stories, wondering what lines stood out, what made a book memorable, what did it say about him that these were his favorites.

Being an elder Millennial, I’m in the stage of nostalgically re-acquiring important artifacts from my childhood, so that’s why there are some children’s books on my list. Where’s Waldo? was one of the most coveted books in my grade-school library! There was always a list of people waiting to check it out, but usually, whoever actually had the book that week would let the other kids gather around and look together.

My Heart Is a Chainsaw was a recommendation from my goth teenaged birthdaughter <3 which I probably read too much personal symbolism into but maybe not!

I thought John Updike was overrated, lol.

Favorite photography book: W. Eugene Smith’s Dream Street. His pictures made me so homesick, and it was wild because he took them from 1955-1957 but they still really, REALLY, to me, looked like the Pittsburgh of my ‘80s/’90s memories (bc Pittsburgh doesn’t change, and also the “idea” or “brand” of Pittsburgh in the ‘80s/’90s was ofc consciously referencing its industrial working-class past). He took over 10,000 photos but was never able to “finish” the project to his intense, obsessive standards of perfection (I KNOW THAT FEEL) and felt it failed to capture the multifaceted essence of the city. WELL, not in my opinion at least!

PS I'm moonmoth on LibraryThing.

[royalfamily-of-windemburg]

The Queen Mother visits Brichester National Library for 700th anniversary of its creation

(The Queen Mother at the entrance to the Library with her umbrella.)

Despite the incessant rain, the Queen Mother did not let the bad weather affect her schedule and fulfilled her long-awaited visit to the National Library in Brichester, which celebrated its bicentenary yesterday. Founded in 1424, the National Library has been a fundamental pillar for education and the preservation of knowledge in the country. Over two centuries, it has grown from a small collection of manuscripts and rare books to become one of the most important institutions, with millions of volumes and historical documents covering all aspects of human knowledge.

Despite the incessant rain, the Queen Mother did not let the bad weather affect her schedule and fulfilled her long-awaited visit to the National Library in Brichester, which celebrated its bicentenary yesterday. Founded in 1424, the National Library has been a fundamental pillar for education and the preservation of knowledge in the country. Over 700 years, it has grown from a small collection of manuscripts and rare books to become one of the most important institutions, with millions of volumes and historical documents covering all aspects of human knowledge.

At the end of her visit, the Queen Mother left a message in the guest book, thanking the National Library for its invaluable contribution to the country's culture and knowledge.

Comments section:

CharlesTanner: The Brichester National Library is a treasure of our country, I am glad that the Queen Mother was able to carry out her visit despite the rain.

JulOtto11: It would be great if all citizens would visit the temporary exhibition. It is a unique opportunity to learn more about our cultural heritage.

[thorraborinn]

Do you know of any resources that list historical instances of bind runes? As in, like the triple (or sometimes more) stacked (tiwaz? tyr?) rune that looks like a tree, among others? When I try to search this online, I come up with almost exclusively modern creations, but I’m wondering how often this happened in the general past and what it looked like? Maybe bind rune isn’t even the correct historical term—I don’t know. Any insight you could provide would be great, thank you!

I expect that Bind-runes: An Investigation of Ligatures in Runic Epigraphy by Mindy Macleod would probably be exactly what you're looking for, but I haven't read it myself, so I can't guarantee.

The second-best idea that occurs to me is to just go through Texts and Contexts of the Oldest Rune Inscriptions by Tineke Looijenga with a ctrl+f find "bindrune." This only covers Elder Futhark.

The vast majority of bindrunes prior to the early modern period that we have a record for are simple ligatures of two, sometimes three runes, like ᛮ a͡l, and in most works about runes those aren't really treated differently from the much rarer, more complicated ones, which makes it harder to use search tools to find them. Complex bindrunes that are more than just simple ligatures are exceptionally rare in the Elder Futhark.

These are a type that Looijenga calls "cross-runes," which might be the only repeated "type" of bindrune in the Elder Futhark other than simple ligatures:

Really complex ones are far more prevalent in Icelandic manuscripts from the early modern era. In Runologia, his short book/long essay about runes, Grunnavíkur-Jón (1705-1779) has a few sections on composing bindrunes. Runologia is a weird combination of an academic work in the tradition of Ole Worm, Icelandic vernacular practice, and vernacular reappropriation of academic work; all of this makes it very interesting but difficult to use for tracing the historical precedent of anything in it. It's hard to say whether he was recording a widespread practice or systematizing something he had a vague idea of.

I have a post with a couple of examples here: https://thorraborinn.tumblr.com/post/682508486233440256/how-do-you-make-bind-runes-without-using-elder

[ikimono-clips]

Stephens Hall, University of California, Berkeley, California, 2015 June 25. Photographed while at Rare Books and Manuscripts Section meeting of the American Library Association. by rwayneshoaf

[sam-glade]

Happy STS! Does your reading taste match your writing taste? Tell me about both!

Hi Lynn, happy STS💜

I'd say there's a huge overlap. I almost exclusively read speculative fiction nowadays, and write only SFF.

I'm a very fussy reader though, especially when it comes to traditionally published books, and I'll often put a book down halfway through e.g. because it's over-explaining things or because something about a character dynamic rubs me the wrong way, and I'm not enjoying it. And conversely, I strive to write books I'd enjoy reading. And re-reading.

However, there are certainly things outside the overlap. Let's imagine it as a Venn diagram.

In the middle, there would be inspiring, earnest adventures about people pushing themselves and finding their inner strength, with characters who are overall nice people and aren't too hateful or selfish. Most importantly, they don't hurt others for fun - I dislike cruel POV characters. The stories I like will have some banter and lighter moments, but will be far from cute and fluffy. (I know I keep bringing it up, but Sanderson's The Stormlight Archive might be the best example of the tone I mean.) The plot itself doesn't have to be that memorable, as long as I enjoy tagging along with the characters.

Also very much in the 'I like to read it, but I'll never write it' category - tragedies. I like bawling my eyes out while I consume the story, but when it comes to writing it myself, it becomes too depressing and taxing, having to go over the harrowing scenes over and over to polish them.

When it comes to reading, I like a consistent but very distinct voice (looking at Tamsyn Muir's The Locked Tomb and Seth Dickinson's Masquerade series). However, when it comes to writing something like that, I get self-conscious about being pretentious - though The Fulcrum is an attempt to get over it.

I'd like to write a clever heist or detective story, but right now I'm not confident I can pull it off. Until that day comes, I'll enjoy reading them.

On the other side, I will occasionally write fluffy and cute scenes, especially to cheer myself up after getting past a bleaker section of a story. Even if they won't make it to any manuscript, it's a treat. At the same time, I don't read much fluff anymore. On too many occasions I've found it either too saccharine or like the author was trying too hard but the characters themselves didn't commit to it.

And finally things that I neither read nor write include grimdark - I don't like all of the characters being awful people; I want to root for someone, not wish that everyone will fail. And also a lot of romance, and especially heteronormative romance.

And I'd like to take this opportunity to vent about it just a little. Sorry, this will get lengthy and slightly off topic.

When I was in school, I tried to be just a normal girl (heh) and fit in. That was around the time when Twilight became a thing, and yes I've read it, since my friends insisted, and I couldn't understand what the fuss was about. I then tried various typical romances, and none of them resonated with me. I couldn't get through Pride and Prejudice even, despite the gorgeous setting and so much more to it than the romance.

What I think was going on was: in straight romance that I was exposed to there was this assumption 'there's a boy and a girl, of course they'll fall for each other'. Sometimes it was well-disguised, sometimes only thinly veiled, but once I noticed it, I couldn't unsee it. Even if the characters themselves were described as someone I might find attractive, I rarely got a good idea of why their love interest finds them attractive. So many times the answer seemed to be 'why wouldn't they'. And because I wasn't on board with the characters' feelings and didn't have the rose tinted glasses on, very often I'd go 'wait no I wouldn't want any partner to do this to me' about things they did to each other.

In comparison, in almost all of the queer romantic plots and subplots I've read (note: it's still not many, and even fewer of these books were first and foremost a romance), there's a lot more subtext and more nuance. I don't know if it's queer authors feeling (subconsciously?) the need to justify why these two people are together, or having more awareness of what's healthy in a relationship, or falling back to the subtlety we're used to seeing in media, from when queer representation was barely a thing, but that's what I enjoy a lot more. Also, in queer romances, I often find the characters having many more individual traits described in creative ways. Traits that aren't considered typically attractive. And my impression is that there's less pressure on characters to fall in love in queer books, but when they do, they're more active and decisive about it. Even when the decision and the action is to deny it.

And to bring it back to your question and the comparison to writing. I've attempted to write a straight couple twice, and in both cases I wasn't convinced there was any chemistry between the characters - at least not in both directions.

Obviously I haven't read that much straight-up romance overall, so this isn't based on a huge sample, but it's still enough for me to decide it's something I'll pass on. At this point, I'm quite happy saying: I don't have to write it if I'm not enjoying it.

[wowieweirdwarlock]

Astonishing Artifacts: The Book of the Damned

Sources: Pathfinder Player Companion on artifacts & the book of the damned.

Image source: Pathfinder Campaign setting, Artifacts & Legends, pg. 15.

“Held between covers of bladed steel, stretched human flesh, and compressed ashes, this massive collection of loose folios, leathery scrolls, and gory manuscripts is the authoritative volume on unspeakable topics and evils for which there are no names.”

The Book of The Damned is the total sum of all profane knowledge and evil lore in the multiverse. It defies all logic, being possessed of more information than any tome of its size should be able to hold. It contains numerous different topics divided into different sections, which are rarely found all together. Should all chapters of this foul book be combined, its malicious intelligence awakens.

When fully combined, The Book of The Damned radiated dark energy in a large area, and evil creatures across the planes become aware of its location and desire to have it. Any good-aligned being that dares to touch it risks being slain immediately, and any being that uses this book is damned immediately.

Dark Talisman. The Book can be attuned to a powerful evil owner, allowing them to cast dark spells they shouldn’t normally have access to, and giving them insight to the workings of evil in the multiverse.

Reference of Evil. The Book of the Damned can be used to learn the dark secrets of reality, but the Book is written in a combination of languages and codes which can take up to a month to fully decipher. After an owner spends the time to understand this maddening tome, they can consult it to answer any obscene question regarding any dark topic of the multiverse.

Accursed Archive. An owner of the Book of The Damned can cause it to fold into itself, opening a horrific wound in reality that acts as a portal to a perverse demiplane. Visitors to this space find themselves in an unnerving library filled with infinite records of every evil deed in the multiverse. These articles are constantly being written, with the Book’s evil consciousness always compiling new lore. Not even the gods know the full breadth of this space, and it is curated by strange manifestation’s of the Book’s will.

The History & Legend of the Book of The Damned:

The Book’s history begins with the legendary angel Tabris. He was charged by Heaven to catalogue all knowledge in the multiverse, and appointed an army of lesser angels to aid in this task.

After spending eons chronicling all knowledge regarding the topics of good, law, chaos, and neutrality, he led his army to descend into the Lower Planes to take on the daunting task of cataloguing all evil in reality.

Tabris and his scholars never returned. His heavenly siblings mourned the loss of him and the knowledge he sought, but presumed him dead.

Unless killed, most good-aligned outsiders are ageless. Even in the timespan of celestials, Tabris was gone far too long in the Planes of Perdition for survival to be a possibility.

Despite this, He emerged from the maelstrom and returned to heaven broken and bearing the original manuscript of The Book of The Damned.

At first rejoicing his discoveries and return, the hosts of Heaven were appalled upon looking into his research. Tabris had faced pure and absolute evil, and unflinchingly recorded every ounce of it. In the eons he was away, he’d interviewed with the most horrific monstrosities of the multiverse.

Image source: Book of The Damned, pg. 255

The judges of Heaven criticized his work harshly. He had catalogued the machinations of fiends spanning timelines, sins without name, and infinite blasphemies with unflinching accuracy. He’d even sacrificed a piece of his soul and placed it within the Book, to constantly update the tome whenever a new evil occurred.

Tabris was not ashamed of his work, as he was convinced he’d successfully accomplished his task. In his confidence, the Celestials saw corruption. He was stripped of his heavenly power, barred from the planes of good, and cast out for his actions.

Before Heaven could destroy the horrid tome, it was scattered. It’s endless chapters on different subjects split apart into a multitude of dark spellbooks and horrific artifacts, each seeking to be reconnected with the other pieces throughout the multiverse.

Ramifications:

Damnation. All owners and users of The Book of The Damned have their souls Damned to one of the lower planes upon their death. Which plane of perdition they are sent to depends on their actions and what they do with the knowledge gleaned from the Book, and this damnation can only be stopped with direct divine intervention.

Fiendish Plans. Every fiend in the multiverse would do unspeakable things for a glimpse into this horrid book. Evil demigods and archfiends of all varieties constantly have agents out in the planes searching for chapters of the Book, and should one assemble it, they’d be given a supreme advantage over their peers and rivals. There aren’t words to describe what one of these beings would do to take control of the full Book.

Blasphemous Lore. The Book of The Damned is not pursued only by fiends. Celestials across the planes hunt down this Book and it’s readers, hoping to prevent its foul knowledge from spreading.

Beyond the Book:

One of the most famous aspects of the Book is the Demi plane concealed within its pages. Once an owner attunes to this artifact, they can open a doorway inside the Book.

This plane appears as a dark, vast library filled with a miasma of fog. Within this library, vast layers of bone-white stone supports shelves made of dark crystal. Each of these shelves hold tablets, books, and manuscripts on all manner of profane lore.

When touched, these articles explode into diagrams, visions, and voices detailing all the collected knowledge held within the Book. In reality, the physical book just serves as a window, each page connected to the demiplane to reveal dark knowledge. Each shelf has a topic, and all topics are organized perfectly, although this organization can be difficult for mortals to comprehend.

At the center of the plane is the largest crystalline tablet, which contains just a single piece of paper with a forbidden tune written upon it. From here, a path leads to the heart of the plane, known as the Unspeakable Word.

The unspeakable word could be considered to be the last page of The Book of The Damned, the record of Tabriz’ ultimate sin— Cataloguing every evil in the multiverse. It appears as a massive, diseased heart bound in crystal chains. Through this organ, every single evil thought in the multiverse flows through to the Book, and is recorded unflinchingly.

Knowledge of the Damned:

The longer an owner deciphers the Book or researches within the demiplane, the more foul knowledge is revealed to them. Many risk madness or destruction just by looking into the book, and very few actually succeed at finding the knowledge they search for. Over time, their discoveries gradually reveal more and more dark information about reality.

The book takes as much as it reveals, though. Whenever a being learns new information from the book, it will attempt to corrupt them. The more profane the knowledge, the more the Book twists it’s reader towards evil.

Some topics held within The Book of The Damned are:

Historical accounts of villains and atrocities committed on different worlds. This information causes a being to become cruel and insulting.

Truths regarding conspiracies and mysteries around the multiverse. This information causes the reader to feel a weight within their mind as the Book presses its influence into them.

Details about ancient dooms and prophecies, and information about ecologies of evil species. This information drains the reader’s intelligence, filling their mind with darkness.

Cryptic reports regarding evil forces in the multiverse, such as the histories of archfiends, details on cosmic horrors, and studies into the natures of fiends. This information convinces the reader of blasphemous connections, twisting their alignment towards evil.

Detailed maps and overviews of evil planes, in addition to foul rituals and spells for the manipulation and binding of fiends, along with the locations of planar portals and evil artifacts. This information enchants the reader, forcing them to continue researching as a perverse fascination develops.

Details regarding evil sites throughout the multiverse, and detailed biographies of great villains. There are instructions on how to destroy good artifacts, or profound revelations in dark magic. The researcher’s imagination is tainted by this knowledge, causing them to crave even more knowledge and power for themselves.

Maps to even more forbidden knowledge and artifacts, and hidden information about most fiends such as true names or origins. This information haunts the reader, causing them to be attacked and drained by the evil spirits trapped within the book.

Secret biographies of evil demigods, specific information regarding the Great Old Ones, and specific accounting of every evil item, deed, and event in the multiverse. Any researcher who reaches this point is already pushed past redemption, and is turned completely towards evil and damnation.

Secrets even the gods don’t know. Divine failures, primeval knowledge, and the truth of evil beyond reckoning. Just as a researcher culminates their pursuit of knowledge, the Book manifests before them and demands servitude. If the researcher refuses, they must escape or be annihilated.

The Keeper of the Book:

There are no fiends or entities native to the Book’s Demiplane. There is only one being, known as the Voice of The Damned.

Tabris himself realized that his task was near-impossible— any book, regardless of its size, would automatically become outdated if it recorded all evil in the multiverse. To combat this, Tabris locked away a fragment of himself in the book, in order to record all forbidden knowledge for eternity.

This act of corrupting a piece of himself to complete his charge ensured his exile, but also determined that the Book would always have a hidden caretaker. In the eons since Its creation, the Voice has only become ever more powerful and obsessed with forbidden knowledge.

The Voice of The Damned is bound to the demiplane within the Book, and serves as the Book of The Damned’s consciousness. It knows every single piece of information held within, and is devoted to spreading the dark information it possesses throughout the multiverse.

Image source: The Book of The Damned, pg. 171.

Ideas for using the Book of The Damned in a Campaign:

The chapters of the Book can always serve as good McGuffins, whether the players are searching for specific lore or are trying to collect the pieces of the Book.

A powerful Fiend offers the Party a massive reward for every chapter of the Book of The Damned they bring back to it. Little do they know, the Fiend intends to trap the party in the Book’s Demiplane, trying to force them to research for it so it doesn’t risk anything.

The party is facing an ancient and obscure evil, and the Book of The Damned seems to be the only way to learn how to defeat it.

A Celestial tasks the Party with attempting to destroy the Book of the Damned, piece by piece. Unfortunately, each chapter of the Book has its own unique form of destruction, and they must all be performed quickly or else the Book will simply reform itself.

The Antagonist has gotten ahold of the Book of The Damned, and is currently holed up in the demiplane to research. The party must find the portal and infiltrate the demiplane in order to defeat the Antagonist.

The Book Of The Damned served as a repository of all evil knowledge in the multiverse. It can either be a very useful tool, or a terrifying weapon, all depending on its current owner.

I have never been in the presence of more than one Chapter from the Book, but I know that when they find eachother, they fuse together and become slightly more powerful. Once the book is completely formed, its malicious intelligence will awaken and seek an owner to spread its corruption with.

The only chapter I’ve had the opportunity to read was an obscure manuscript regarding how the Book constantly seeks out new information. As far as I know, I’ve had no Ill-effects, showing that not all of the knowledge this book holds is capable of corrupting the reader.

Yes, I am now a Warlock devoted to cataloguing knowledge. There is no relation.

- A Weird Warlock.

[troglobite]

lkjaslkdfj

my plan was to do all my game planning and then take a shower before dinner

i ate dinner at 11 pm and i worked for 6-7 hours before that doing fucking game planning

which involved

writing around the base knowledge of 2 professors at the fictional university that i had directed a player towards for conversations about complex questions about interplanar issues and a patient at the clinic her character works at--all so that she could ask them any questions on the topic and i would have a good idea of their answers, viewpoints, and responses

rereading my own notes from: a 3 page nat 20 investigation check into a public records office for a player from like 3 months ago, conversation notes and prep for like 3 different NPCs a player spoke with from previous sessions, worldbuilding information including the global-since-the-beginning-of-time timeline to fact check myself about some details, the world knowledge doc i gave to one player to make sure the information i was crafting for tomorrow aligned--and i'm sure more.

attempting to research the hierarchical (or non-hierarchical) structures of various irl world religions, finding it utterly futile, and ultimately resorting to attempting to craft religious formations out of thin air and some word association for some of the 24 extant deities in my world, all in case any players want or need to speak w someone from those faiths

trying to find more information about fair pricing for items in the game and making a mental note about which prices i'm going to change/scale because common, uncommon, rare, etc. are just not good signifiers of price

oh right i also had to reread my notes from a previous session where i built an entire holiday festival for them with a shitload of booths and shops they never even went to--including a series of like 12 trivia questions about the world for a trivia game they could've played but didn't, which i had spent hours writing on the off-chance it came up and to help them get more engaged w the world at large. i reread it for the bits of trivia i had to fact check myself, and ALSO bc there were shops in there they never visited. and i had to have at least one shop for them to visit.

they asked for "armor upgrades" and the only specific i was given by one player was the most overpowered underpriced set of armor from the most obscure fucking source book that i immediately had to say no to, and then i got no other specifics, so i just have to be prepared to figure out an enchantment and various issues w it at the fucking table

i created 2 NPCs who are students at the school w them who are entirely different people but are known for doing discounted work enchanting and making armor and weapons, which, given their current funds of like 1.5k gold, is really their only option. (i still included the official store i made for the festival, because the player who didn't tell me anything she wanted until THIS FUCKING AFTERNOON just said "armor" and nothing else i'm going to scream, have fun finding out how fucking expensive everything is)

creating a timeline for the aftermath at the major library and the 7 campus's archives (mainly just the central one) to figure out its status right now, since it had innumerable volumes and manuscripts stolen in the attack on the festival that happened in-game during a session. this basically resulted in me making things chaotic and having to figure out what sections are missing a lot of texts and which aren't.

creating a timeline and current status of the aftermath of the attacks on government officials and civil servants that also happened at that attack on the festival--which involved figuring shit out for like 6 different fucking cities and summarizing newspaper blurbs on the off-chance anyone asks about that shit in-game.

coming up w multiple sections of this GIANT library that would exist in this fictional world, then figuring out which texts from those sections were stolen, and then figuring out which ones were left that fit the "false god sightings" research "question" i was given by my player literally this fucking afternoon even though she knew she wanted to do this FOR OVER A FUCKING MONTH AND COULD'VE TOLD ME ANY OF THE 7 TIMES I ASKED HER ABOUT IT.

writing summaries and overviews of multiple texts in these sections, and making sure i have my bases covered in case she asks particular specific questions. praying and begging and pleading that she doesn't ask anything too far out of left field where i can't just say "sorry you don't find anything bc the librarians and archivists are all busy right now and that section is basically empty"

making notes for a possible conversation for that player w her aasimar celestial partner/guide.

all of that alone for that one player amounted to over 1800 words written. just for her.

scrambling to come up w some quick things for the fifth player in case she shows up completely fucking unannounced

finishing planning the ENTIRE CITY that they're going to go to

developing and fleshing out (as much as i could) the NPC who's going to be their point person on this mission

developing and fleshing out the very beginning of their mission so that they can be given some information but not all of it, because i'm going to end the session at a particular moment to give myself at least 2 more weeks before i have to have the entire in-game class trip fully planned out

making an entire playlist for this new city

things i did not manage to do

shower

make a list of the important things we need to discuss in my Checkpoint/Check-in Conversation that i'm going to make everyone have tomorrow before the game begins

also this does not included mentally preparing to instead start at 12 and not 1 because one player hates two of the other players so much that she refuses to roleplay in front of them until she gets back in the swing of things.

she was going to just not roleplay things that i have had planned for like three fucking months and that are NARRATIVELY IMPORTANT BECAUSE THEY ALL ASKED FOR A FUCKING OVERARCHING CAMPAIGN PLOT AND A NOT A MONSTER OF THE WEEK STYLE CAMPAIGN

but when i PRESSED and was like this actually HAS to happen in roleplay, so just come early, please

that's happening instead

so now i've shifted up my timeline

except that my health has been in shambles. i'm not going to bother getting into the stupid fucking details of it all.

so today i woke up, ate some food, Nearly Fucking Perished, and then had to nap it off. by the time i was able to get up and start working, it was like 4. i was working until 11. at which point i finally ate dinner and we watched the last two episodes of season one of big door prize (which btw is REALLY good, highly recommend, it's v interesting).

and now it's 2:30

i'm too tired to shower right now

which means i have to get up even earlier than i normally would, bc showering for me is like an hour long process bc again my body is FUCKING STUPID.

and this isn't even counting the like 3 hours??? or more? i did of gameplanning yesterday

and i couldn't do anything earlier this week

bc only two players had confirmed they could make it to the game on sunday/tomorrow EVEN THOUGH EVERYBODY HAD AGREED TO THAT DATE AND TIME PREVIOUSLY

and on top of that i spent monday cleaning for eight hours straight to the detriment of my physical fucking health so i need two full days to recover

and then, i had done like an hour of brainstorming a week ago or something to have an outline of the class session

bc that was all i could

bc even though i asked everyone three fucking times to tell me what they wanted to accomplish in the game (bc the format is odd! they're in miss frizzle's class which meets once a week! they're at a school! this is not a traditional campaign format w a party system that travels together all the time! there is downtime! they can DO THINGS!!! APART FROM EACH OTHER!!!) and to tell me what they wanted to buy

nobody told me anything until like wednesday this week

1 player and i had already talked about it at the beginning of may bc we were SUPPOSED to have a session on the 20th that she couldn't be at. she is, so far, the only responsible player--and yet, still waffles around her boundaries and comfort in a way that makes me Insane--and is the one i'm like 'yes i would co-dm with you, that sounds awesome' and i genuinely think it would be.

so i had 2-3 days to prepare this entire game session

and it's still not really done

and things are STILL up in the air

and i'm just like. shaking with anxiety tremors right now.

i love the city i built for this upcoming class trip of theirs.

i love the idea i've made for their trip and the encounters and everything, even though basically nothing is fully fleshed out (except for the city's structure and like, the Context for the trip)

i love making a rich world that, hopefully, feels tangible and fun and interesting

i'm excited abt the overarching plot they specifically asked me to make

but i am so fucking tired of doing work I AM NOT BEING PAID FOR to the detriment of my own health for people who will not fucking communicate with me

the player who didn't tell me anything she wanted to do until THIS AFTERNOON when i EXPLICITLY asked for information NO LATER THAN FRIDAY NIGHT? and then her information was "armor" and "i want to research false god sightings" which necessitated the library shit the book shit and the city government officials shit.

she APPARENTLY--despite saying 2 weeks ago that she would be "free all day" to play--was going to HAVE TO FUCKING WORK tomorrow and DIDN'T TELL ME THIS. AT ANY POINT. IN THE LAST TWO WEEKS.

AND TOLD ME YESTERDAY THAT SHE ENDED UP NOT HAVING TO WORK

WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT?!?!?!

and now i have to fucking write a list of everything that i need to cover and ask them and to clarify about the fucking game and all this shit

bc the sheer amount of disrespect--or rather, the COMPLETE LACK of consideration for me and my time and my work on this--

is fucking killing me.

i volunteered to do this bc we all agreed it would be fun

we had a session zero to cover all of this kind of shit

and it's just. like. wow. okay. so that didn't mean fucking anything.

and we have to talk about player boundaries as well.

bc even though LITERALLY ALL OF THEM ENTHUSIASTICALLY AGREED TO PC AND NPC ROMANCE POTENTIAL

one player has entered a possible romance (that began w what the PC was a one night stand) and one particular player (the one who apparently was possibly gonna have to work/couldn't make it to the game and didn't tell me anything she wanted until less than 24 hours before the fucking game) made a whole fucking fuss about how "gross" it was to hear us "be so explicit" about the sex

she's a lesbian who gleefully makes pussy jokes all the fucking time

but two queer men in the game (the player is not a man, but her character is) have sex and we make vague jokes about it and that apparently is too gross for her.

i tried addressing it in the moment when it happened

i literally sent them a 4 question form for the session zero (which btw they didn't fucking fill out until the last fucking minute)

one of those questions was about things they absolutely 100% did not want described in detail or included in the game

you know what wasn't on there?

sex jokes and vague descriptions about characters and their sex lives

what the FUCK is the point of a session zero if you don't say what might actually bother you?

also what the FUCK is wrong with you that you would LOUDLY INTERRUPT SOMEONE ELSE'S RP FUN to proclaim that you find it gross?

also i'm not even touching on some other stuff that has been driving me nuts w other players.

these are my friends and v few of them are fucking acting like it.

time to go make a list of the shit that i need to cover tomorrow.

really wish i wasn't feeling the energy of the angry public school teacher who's past their fucking limit.

[thesoulprophecies]

On November the 4th 1966, the river Arno flooded into Florence burying hundreds of thousands of books, manuscripts and artwork beneath mud, debris and putrid water. Due to this massive cultural and historical devastation, countries responded quickly with financial aid and restoration research. It became imperative to combine modern science with historical book making techniques in order to save and restore the damaged antiquarian books and manuscripts. Experimental research was used from The Institute of Book Pathology in Rome, and The Imperial College of Science and Technology in association with The Royal College of Art in London.

Damaged books were given emergency washing and drying treatments and then sterilised against bacteria and mould. The edges of a lot of books were badly stuck with mud, gelatine and sawdust. The covers/boards, spines, headbands and everything surrounding the text block were removed and catalogued in envelopes. Once the spine was clear the sewing was cut from the spines and the sections separated carefully. Mud was scraped from the leaves of the book, and especially bad books were soaked in an alcohol and water mixture and then interwoven with wet strength paper and washed again. Coloured plates and prints were sprayed with a solution of soluble nylon in alcohol to preserve them. Any oil that may have damaged the books was removed with a solution of xylene and trichloroethylene. Fuller’s Earth was applied delicately and brushed off to remove excess chemical solution and oil.

Thermostatically controlled, stainless steel, sinks were used to wash the books leaf by leaf in a fungicide solution. Some particularly fragile leaves were resized. pH tests were conducted and if a book had too much acidity, it was deacidified. Bleach staining is not considered good practice, and was limited to the leaves that were so stained that the text was illegible. The individual leaves were dried at controlled temperatures in specially made drying cabinets. Once dry, the leaves were checked and put in order. (Plates and prints were handled separately to the main text blocks as extra care had to be taken due to the colours.)

Before sewing and binding could take place, repairs were made to the leaves caused by the flood and early binding techniques. Lens tissue was used for small tears, and Japanese tissue paper was used for serious tears and missing sections of leaves.

Books were sewn back together with thread and techniques dependent on their size and publication date. Appropriate bindings were also chosen depending on the use of the book and its time period. The majority of the damaged Antonio Magliabechi manuscripts and volumes from the National Library of Florence were bound in limp vellum. Other rare books required new leather bindings.

The restoration of books, manuscripts, art and historical artefacts from the 1966 flood is still an ongoing process today. Many people had to be trained specially to restore books on site in Florence, as shipping damaged books to experts across the world was deemed to be impractical and quality could not be controlled. There was also the risk that the books would be lost or damaged further in transit.

Floods and natural disasters cause widespread damage but are fortunately not that common. Some books are damaged over time due to use and age. Working in a second-hand bookshop, I see a lot of old books that are damaged; missing spines and boards, detached boards, bumped corners, missing labels and stained. Modern books are notoriously poor quality and tend to fall apart easily in comparison to their sewn, medieval ancestors. There is a genuine calling for restoration and book binding experts. Some old books are scarce, and some books have signatures or notes in their margins from historically important people which make them unique and irreplaceable. For the individual, books passed down through the generations hold significant sentimental value and may need repairs or complete new bindings. If history teaches us anything, it is that we need to continue to find methods and solutions to protect and save items of historical importance.

References:

The Restoration of Books: Florence – 1968. – YouTube

The Disaster that Deluged Florence’s Cultural Treasures – HISTORY

The great flood of Florence, 50 years on | Art and design | The Guardian

https://blog.outletpublishinggroup.com/2023/02/23/blog-156-the-importance-of-book-restoration/ 

[wutbju]

Fine Library To Be Enlarged

"The fear of the Lord is the chief part of knowledge." This is the Biblical inscription on a plaque in the main lobby of the Mack Library at Bob Jones University, and it reflects truly the the spiritual emphasis of the school. However, the comprehensive collection of the library itself reflects not only the spiritual emphasis, but also the educational and cultural emphasis as well.

There are more than 110,000 books in its regular collection; and each year approximately 3,000 more books are added. On the main floor are three reading rooms where approximately 5,000 bound magazines are accessible.

Back files of the New York Times and other periodicals also are available on microfilm and may be viewed on the microfilm reader. In addition, over 2,100 music, speech, and language records are provided in departmental library rooms in other campus buildings.

Sections in the library cover a wide range of subjects, for it serves not only students of junior high school level (Bob Jones Academy), but also candidates for doctor of philosophy degrees, as well as students in between, It serves students enrolled in the School of Fine Arts, the College of Arts and Science, the School of Religion, the School of Education, and the School of Business Administration -- there are thousands of books on particular subjects taught at BJU.

The library is particularly outstanding in its books on religion. It has comprehensive collections of volumes on church history, doctrines, missions, and Christian education as well as on the Bible.

The second floor includes a large reading room housing books in the fields of art, music and literature. A special section on the theatre contains books on costume, film and Shakespeare which are especially helpful in the extensive cultural endeavors engaged in by the university. Also in this reading room there are about 20 rare and old manuscripts, books, and Bibles on display.

The university library has a fine collection of books on medicine, many of which were donated from the libraries of several doctors. The head librarian, Miss Margaret Bald, says that these are particularly valuable in the medical missions program offered at the university.

Of special help to the students from the School of Business Administration is the Moody's Stocks and Bonds Service, to which the library subscribes each year. The columns and biweekly sheet additions of this organization can be used to check the financial status and ratings of various organizations in the nation, such as banking, utilities and government.

Business students use Moody's in assignments, in which they have to determine whether certain companies are making or losing money. Businessmen from Greenville come in from time to time to use the services.

Students who are about to be graduated and want to apply for jobs at various companies find Poor's Register of Corporations valuable. Poor's gives a roster of the corporations in the United States, with their addresses and names of directors and executives, as well as their products and number of employees. This volume gets a great deal of use in the spring when students are considering accepting employment with some of these large firms.

The library has a microfilm reader, a microprint and a microfiche reader, which is used on back files of magazines. There is a collection of books on the Civil War on microcards and a complete collection called "Three Centuries of Drama' on microprint cards.

In the main reading room is a copier machine on which students can make copies of various things for 10 cents a copy. Businessmen and other residents of Greenville and outlying areas also come in to use this machine. One man came and made over 1,000 copies on it.

That is the weirdest thing to put in a news article.

Traditionally, students at BJU do most of their studying at the library. There are hundreds of chairs in the various reading rooms; and usually during the school year, nearly every seat is taken. A new addition is being planned for the library which will double its capacity. The library is open six days a week, its hours between 8 a.m. and 10:15 p.m.