#they say art imitates real life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

perfectlyoongi · 3 months

Text

DAD!NAMJOON who builds snow animals with your child every winter. when the crystal-clear snow covered the entire city in an innocent blanket, Namjoon dressed your kid in hats and gloves, carrying them on his shoulders to the garden, where he let the various snowflakes sprinkle on the dark clothes like stardust. on his knees, and always laughing with your child, Namjoon created a snow farm in your garden, dogs and cats mixing with very small sheep and extremely skinny cows, but all the animals made with the magic of laughter and the eternal love that Namjoon felt for your child. “you want to make so many puppies... you got me thinking about getting you a real one for christmas. hm? what do you say?”

DAD!NAMJOON who reads a fairy tale to your child every night. the only light in the room was you kid's yellow lamp which, shyly illuminating the already very yellow pages of Namjoon's childhood storybook, prepared your child for a deep sleep. allowing his voice to resonate calmly in the room, Namjoon's timbre was low, soft, pulling with it all of your kid's energy and giving them little cosmic drops of sleep that lasted an entire night. “once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a little princess who wanted to go to bed…”

DAD!NAMJOON who teaches constellations to your child since they were little. there were several nights spent in the garden of your house, where you and Namjoon lay on top of a yellow blanket, your kid resting between you. and, when the clouds were your friends and showed the whole sky to you, the various stars shone brightly in tones of curiosity and fascination; and Namjoon pointed to them, his index finger accurately drawing all the visible constellations, adorning them with their celestial names, leaving your child always dreaming of what could exist beyond this world. “and that’s aquila. the brightest point is altair. can you see how it forms wings? it's an eagle. a celestial eagle.”

DAD!NAMJOON who goes on picnics with you and your child on bike rides. usually in late spring, when the sun was shining but the heat wasn't intense, the three of you would leave the house early in the morning, pedaling your bikes through parks and forests, letting the fresh morning air whet your appetite for a late lunch. always in different places, but always far from the world, Namjoon always decided where you should have lunch, always choosing the most magical views and the most comfortable paths for the three of you to enjoy family time. “our angel wants peanut butter sandwiches. do you think you can swap the vegetable crepes for the sandwich?”

DAD!NAMJOON who replicates with your child all the paintings and statues you see in the museum. saturday afternoons were spent among galleries and museums, the various pieces of art gaining your kid's full attention. fascinated by the paintings and enchanted by the statues, it was common for you to see your child trying to imitate the various fictional people they encountered, having difficulty lifting their leg, but always having Namjoon's help to make them fly just like that painting. “hold on to my shoulder. come on. not like that. you will fall! your dami is looking here. quick, quick!”

DAD!NAMJOON who created a small garden just for your child. as soon as news of a little child was on the way, Namjoon immediately prepared your courtyard to welcome them in bright, colorful tones. various flowers and plants framed your garden in garish shades of greens and yellows; summer flowers and winter flowers, tall plants and low shrubs, your whole garden lived through the seasons, always offering joy, always hoping that your child would love and care for it. “i'm thinking about making one side just summer flowers and the other just winter flowers. i want there to always be joy in the garden so our baby can realize that there will always be color in their life.”

DAD!NAMJOON who has an album with polaroids of your family to give to your child when they turn 18. from the moment it became known that a little angel was on its way into your life, Namjoon took care to document the entire journey taken by the three of you. Namjoon wrote little reminders on the most special photos, always trying to highlight not only unforgettable memories, but also his eternal love for you, for your kid, for your family. “it is in this album that i poured all my love, and i seriously hope that each photograph can portray the fragments of my happiness.”

153 notes · View notes

nicostiel · 2 years

Text

Tatsuki Fujimoto’s twitter got banned. Not because he was impersonating his not real 8 year old sister, but because he put that age despite trying to convince people it was him before getting banned. Now he's on a whole new twitter account posting Chainsaw Man concept art and begging people to believe him when he says he's Tatsuki Fujimoto. Life imitating art.

Tatsuki Fujimoto right now:

EDIT: the queen is back!

#csmedit #chainsaw man #csm #tatsuki fujimoto #manga #anime #twitter #fujimoto tatsuki #elon musk #ao3 #*mypost

3K notes · View notes

hunny-pp · 6 months

Text

PENACONY 2.1 SPOILERS /

[basically a more elaborate version of my twt thread on this]

I don't think I'm the first or only person to say this, but I do think Gallagher is v likely a memory zone meme

EDIT: heres pt 1.2 with additional evidence

Sunday deduces that Gallagher is an amalgamation of fifty-one Family members, who he's inherited physical traits from to create the appearance he has now.

Gallagher alludes in his own story that he may not be human

In short, Memory Zone Memes are amalgamations of multiple fragments of the Memory Zone, all have reflections of different memories, cognitions and emotions.

A meme in definition is when something, usually ideas, culture or behaviour is passed to another person through imitation or non-genetic means.

It makes sense for Gallagher, as he mimicked the physical traits of Family members without taking them or that trait away - these NPCs are very much fine and you can interact with them. It's more like a copy-paste onto himself.

Other little details include: -This could change in the future depending on if we get any fire units, but for Gallagher specifically, he takes the Raging Heart materials - which is harvested from a Memory Zone Meme-type enemy. This one's a bit of a stretch but it fits nonetheless

-His signature colour is magenta - shown in his clothing, his marketing materials and in the VFX of his attacks, his claw and his brew. This colour is specifically his and not something he had inherited from someone else.

Memory Zone Memes, especially "Something Upon Death" have stark magenta/purple/pink eyes and cores. When seen from afar or at least in a general sense, the shades are similar enough

-The writing style of Gallagher's stories feel strange, like different aspects of Gallagher's personality and life are on the outside looking in. Akin to a reflective surface giving off different reflections from different angles of the same subject. It adds to the idea that there are multiple aspects and fragments within Gallagher all looking within each other.

Mixology and The Dreamjolt Hostelry:

Gallagher's main interest outside of work is mixology. Like any culinary craft, there's an inherent science behind it, and it takes a lot of work and knowledge to craft well constructed cocktails and drinks. Symbolically, mixology complements Gallagher, as he himself is a combination of a diverse range of people. When you view these inherited traits isolated, you know they come from someone real - but when put together, they form One Complete Gallagher - cohesive and seamless.

While you can say the same for different branches of culinary arts, mixology in particular symbolically represents Gallagher the most. This is just from a layman's perspective but when I view the same with cocktails - from a general inspection it's one cohesive drink even if from taste or watching the process, I know it's all made with different components.

Notably, when Gallagher talks about mixing drinks, he describes it as akin to combining different emotions, experiences and memories into a singular cocktail and it's reflective of both customer and bartender's own current state of being.

His philosophy on mixology links back to the concept of Memory Zone Memes, manifestations of fragmented memories, emotions and cognitions nestled into a vessel.

The reason why I bring up the Dreamjolt Hostelry is because of the Vignettes in a Cup event (spoilers for it). It's not explicit in his stories or voicelines, but going by the Trailblaze quest, it's implied that the Dreamjolt Hostelry is the lounge/bar he regulars for a drink or to hone his craft as he's v friendly and familiar to Siobhan and is seen in the 2.1 trailer to be serving a Dreamjolt Domescreen (whether it's Lady or not doesn't matter).

Dreamjolt Hostelry is in the sealed off dreamscape Reverie, where the corrupted Dreamjolt Troupe monsters and Memory Zone Memes reside. Notably, where you encounter Something Unto Death in key moments of the story.

I'd like to believe Gallagher is very comfortable with the company of monsters, going by the fact that he himself is non-human.

In Vignettes in a Cup, Siobhan explains that the reason why she mixes drinks for the Dreamjolt Troupe monsters is that it helps regulate their emotions - since the dreamscape is falling apart and in turn they have become unstable.

Gallagher himself in one of his idle animations drinks an unknown concoction from his hipflask once his scar starts acting up - in which it settles back down. It's hard to discern in this point in time how long this has been going for, but as a non-human entity (meme or not), the dreamscape's decay is also likely affecting Gallagher and thus he has to regulate himself.

Why Do The Heathen Rage?: In the mission "Why Do The Heathen Rage?" we learn a lot of the Watchmaker's secret history as well as a general run through of Gallagher's own personal story.

First off, a lot of Penacony's trailblaze mission titles are references to songs, literature and media relevant to the themes of Penacony and/or by American classical authors or poets (ie Heaven is a Place on Earth, Cat Among Pigeons, The Tell-Tale Heart).

Why Do The Heathen Rage is both based on Psalm 2.1 Old Testament, but also it's a fragment of an unfinished novel by Flannery O'Connor. Fragment of a novel -> Gallagher is made of fragments of different people -> Memory Zone Memes are fragments of (I'm booed off the stage for being a broken record).

The story tells of a man called Walter Tilman who lives on his family's farm. There he starts to write letters to different people - particularly to Oona Gibbs, a black civil rights activist. However, he writes to her under the guise of a black man, and writes with the intention of testing the commitment and integrity of her beliefs.

Going with what we know in hindsight, Gallagher is masquerading around as a human, likely as a Memory Zone Meme as we've realised hopefully by now that they're the monsters most likely to pull something of Gallagher's calibre off.

This is all I'm gonna talk about from "Why Do The Heathen Rage" mainly because my additional theories are based off leaks and are more speculative.

Bonus section: "Something Unto Death" When it comes to Gallagher's connection to the Memory Zone Meme "Something Unto Death", a lot comes from his many symbols of death. This is just a bit of a bonus since we're talking about Gallagher likely being a Memory Zone Meme, we might as well address the elephant in the room as well.

For brevity, we'll call the little guy "Death Meme". Death Meme is a Memory Zone Meme created from the Dreamscape's fear of death and murder as "death" shouldn't be something that can happen in the dreamscape.

Gallagher has a FUCK ton of symbolism and nods to death. The most striking is that Gallagher's iconic "I'm Thirteen", which is the number for the Major Arcana "Death". (For additional reference I also think Thirteen could be the amount of Amber Eras he's lived in, or that he's at least 1300 years old. Also since he has a lot of dog theming, 13 dog years in human years is around 60-80 depending on the dog's size).

Additionally, thirteen is a common number to represent bad omens and misfortune - namely the well known Friday the 13th superstition, amongst other things.

When Gallagher makes you a drink, no matter what choices you make - the cocktail will have a memento mori/death/morbidly themed name and he will accompany most of them with a sardonic toast.

Gallagher's eidolons are names of different cocktails which fit his mixology theme. However, Corpse Reviver, Last Word, Death in the Afternoon and Blood and Sand are all death centric names, as if he couldn't get edgier enough.

There's also the call into question his playstyle, where he's a much more aggressive battle healer than the likes of Luocha and is the first abundance character to provide debuffs on the enemy, and derives healing through damaging opponents.

Conclusion: If you've read this far then I'm assuming you're as normal about Gallagher as I am. But yeah, there is so much to him I haven't touched on, his connections to the Enigmata, my continuation on this theory based on leaks and his shared past with Mikhail, what I think he'll do in the plot moving forward. This patch and its characters are themed around hiding secrets and that there's more than meets the eye. Gallagher in particular has proved to be the most mysterious of the trio, as while we've gotten a clear enough picture of both Acheron and Aventurine but there's still enough intrigue to keep them going, Gallagher's just given me more questions than answers man.

#honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #gallagher #honkai star rail theory #hsr theory #hsr spoilers #penacony spoilers #im normal about him (smile)

191 notes · View notes

chirasul · 9 months

Text

so when people have sex and approach orgasm they tend to kind of stop paying attention to some of their automatic faculties, such as fine control over facial expressions. the intent focus upon the pursuit of orgasm, and upon maintaining physical exertion, and upon the physical pleasures themselves tend to drive the facial expressions (rather than deliberately controlling the face in order to match the feelings within the body). this is not unlike the unconscious closing of the eyes when one sneezes. this loss of control often results in the following: relaxation of the jaw, opening of the mouth, loosening of the tongue and lips, loosening of the eyelids, and a loss of deliberate ocular focus. the resulting expression has become associated with eroticism, and with feelings of ecstasy or a sense of being totally emotionally overwhelmed. humans make a similar facial expression when falling asleep, experiencing an intense non-sexual physical sensation, or experiencing some sort of chemical high, such as general anesthesia or recreational drug use.

consequently, erotic artists make attempts to emulate this expression as a symbol for extreme pleasure - either symbolizing an an overwhelming sexual stimulation, or the arrival of the orgasm itself. hentai artists in particular take this expression and push it far beyond the inspiration of real life - now, rather than the eyes being unfocused and hidden beneath loose eyelids, they draw the eyes fully crossed. this is odd, considering that crossing ones eyes requires an opposite physical effort than the thousand-yard-stare of a real life orgasm expression. holding one's eyes crossed takes concentration. but for the sake of cartoon extrapolation, crossed eyes is often a symbol of overwhelming stimulus. in addition to crossed eyes, hentai has extrapolated the concept of the loosened mouth and tongue into an expression of sticking one's tongue out completely. this has become a popular symbol of an erotic loss of physical control over one's facial expression, yet it suffers the same incongruity as the crossed eyes: sticking one's tongue out requires effort, and betrays the slackened looseness of the original expression.

this practice of hentai expressions has had its own consequence: now, models and cosplayers have taken to crossing their eyes in a sexual context in an attempt to emulate the eroticism of hentai, in order to appeal to those who primarily consume hentai for their sexual gratification. but this game of symbolic telephone does not survive the journey: the crossed eyes and stuck-out tongue do not appear erotic, but cartoonish and childish. it is as if these models have taken to mocking the very concept of hentai's parody of eroticism for how little these expressions connect with their original inspiration. and, in turn, they mock the viewer for even finding those expressions erotic in the first place. it is as if to say: so, you like to whack your meat when a girl does this? what a fool you are. the viewer can't help but become aware of how disconnected their chosen method of sexual gratification is from the reality aroused facial expressions. and dont even get me started on hentai sex vocalizations. this is just one of many ways that the caricature of real life features tends to dilute that which makes it appealing in the first place, like imitation cherry flavor contained in a hard candy compared to the real flavor of a cherry picked fresh off the tree, warmed by the summer sun. those artists and creators who take the time and effort to convey the fullness of life's sexual reality with their art will be unknown and unappreciated by those who are far more familiar with a simpler, stripped down, distorted sexual parody.

315 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 9 months

Note

So in other words, you agree, Sam and Cait are not very good actors as exemplified by the scene being them and not Beauchamp and Fraser. On that, agreed. She might be a C actor, he's definitely a D

Dear Beauchamp and Fraser Anon,

I suspect you might be a returning one, by the way, hoping to catch me unprepared with a very cheap sophism. Check this concept on Wikipedia if you wish, but I will give you my definition: manipulated or derailed logic, i.e. formally sustainable, but in reality just a fallacy; or, if you prefer, a bunch of crap, just for the sake of it. Also, it would be wise not to try these cheap tricks on someone trained to work with words and doing so every single day: you might find no satisfaction, ultimately.

Fun fact: I don't agree with any single word you just wrote. Sam and Cait are very good and gifted actors. Both of them. They did wonders with a very inconsistent script and under barbaric public pressure. What dragged you in here, Anon? Mrs. Gabaldon's florid, even luxuriant prose? What kept you in here, Anon? Blood and sperm and rape galore? I should wish you were honest, at least for once in your life, and let your answer be 'not really'.

What I meant by that phrase was something very simple: the actors' life experience deeply informing and sublimating their performance. If you think real and creative lives are strictly separate affairs in any intellectual endeavor, then you are probably completely unfamiliar with anything remotely related to writing, singing, playing (an instrument), acting, composing or painting. All these are akin to magic and all of the above are a summoning of sorts: ask any 'content creator', you will probably get a very similar answer. In Cait and Sam's case, their real life story nurtures and elevates their acting, despite people like you.

I am not an actor myself, but a long time ago it was acting that liberated me and taught me to not be afraid of anything. I did not make a living out of it, but I will always have the tools making me able to access that very special energy, any time I should need it. So, I can only offer you an educated opinion of These Two:

C is a very, very good actress. She is classy, sophisticated and knows instinctively how to occupy a stage or a set. She worked and progressed a LOT since Season 1, when it took me a good while to warm up to her. Add to this what I think is arresting beauty. Not really a C-level, in my book.

S is a wonderfully gifted actor who, unlike C, does not have any idea of this potential and, to be honest, gives the impression to even not care about it. He singlehandedly dominated some of the most difficult moments of the series (that unwatchable Wentworth episode comes to mind). His mastery of the Stanislavski and Lecoq methods and techniques is excellent. He is likeable, personable and has an innate emotional intelligence, helping him navigate and compensate the weaknesses of (yes, I insist!) an often insufficient script. I have already written about it, with arguments, when I found some very interesting parallels between The Fiery Cross episode and Laurence Olivier's performance in Shakespeare's Henry V. I will say it again: this guy has been grossly miscast, spare for JAMMF.

Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the whole preparation and rehearsal process when producing a movie or a series or a theatre show. These people don't just learn their lines by heart and turn up for readings and rehearsals. They also read and watch a lot of things that could help them build better, more credible characters. But what makes the sometimes very subtle difference between a decent performance and a stellar one is the amount of themselves they allow inside their acting. And in this respect, I think Sam and Cait have been very lucky, in what is a very clear case of Art (instinctively) imitating Life.

I doubt this answered your question and to be honest, I don't care.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

135 notes · View notes

cartoonsinthemorning · 3 days

Note

I really like your marchil and stancest arts! Do you have any opinions on toudencest (laios x falin)?

Thank you so much! Anon, let's officially connect the suspicious dots, because I ship Toudencest hard, and I do have, in fact, a lot of opinions. Most likely, the unpopular kind. But before I go into my deranged details rant, here, have a sketch.

Ok, let's go! Laios and Falin have the BEST relationship in Dunmeshi. They understand each other like no other does. It was used as a gag, but: the party getting mad at Laios for saying 'hadn't Falin got eaten, they would have never savored the delicious exorcism sorbet'...and Laios thinks to himself Falin would had understood what he meant-- OOHHH that hit my heart so hard!! That scene meant so much to me! It's TRUE. Everyone, even his friends, misunderstand Laios constantly. But Falin would understand him. It's beautiful. It moves me. Another thing that shakes me to the core: Falin is the only one showing genuine excitement about Laios' passions, interests and discoveries. Like, what I mean is, Senshi does share with Laios an interest about making monster's edible, and later on basically everyone in the story gets mind-boggled about how useful Laios' bizarre knowledge can be- BUT! she is the only one that geeks out with him about monsters. And not out of functionality. No, she's genuinely excited about him sharing new knowledge with her. When she's brought back to life and Laios tells her about monster-eating, her first reaction is basically jumping up and down, overjoyed.

And this is so downplayed. How similar they are, in this regard, I mean. Because most people portray Falin as a poised, soft-spoken normal girl, who's got this unhinged monster-fucker as a brother- ahah- and they seem to forget she is HIGHLY weird too, that her interest and methods are VERY unconventional too! Did people miss the flashback episode showing how she did homework in magic school, basically going into wild, forbidden areas to be in direct contact with the creatures living in there, even if it's considered dangerous, almost blasphemous? COME ON, Laios and Falin share the same approach, no wonder they are best friends! People tend to downplay it, I think, because Laios is the one getting gag-worthy reactions from people- getting yelled at, glared at, etc. But in fact, Falin is just as weird as he is. And it's so sweet how that brings them together, even when they are apart... I also think the fandom largely downplays how much of a bro-con Falin is: she was so clingy as a child lmao, but seriously, she was heartbroken when Laios left home without her- and the thing is, you would expect, after she grew up some more and went to study magic, things would change, her priorities would change. BUT NOOOO, no Sir: Laios pops into her life again years later out of the blue and she drops everything to run away with him. GOD that's so ROMANTIC, she is in LOVE, she is down SO BAD for Laios. What would I give for a detailed fan fic about their travels alone together. Sigh. I think I'm gonna end it here because I went well off the rails-- BUT ONE MORE THING!!! When she was a child and she SO PROUDLY bragged how good her brother is at imitating a dog's bark. God. God my heart. her love is so sweet so precious so immaculate so pure. Ok now I'm done for real byeeeee

#toudencest #laios x falin #falin x laios #laios/falin #falin/laios #and I didn't even get into headcanon talk!!!#holy shit I ship these two more than I thought #Anon what have you done what pandora box did open??#ily anon

44 notes · View notes

x0x0josephinex0x0 · 11 months

Text

touch-starved | min yoongi

we are going to ignore how every single one of my writings has nightmares in them, i personally experience very vivid nightmares on occasion so i guess art imitates life or whatever. also we're gonna ignore that this is the second bodyguard imagine i've written, this one was a request so it's a little less embarrassing but still is a little but not enough that i won't post it on the internet because i know y'all shameless too. here we have bodyguard!yoongi x celebrity fem!reader. warnings: stalking/stalkers (not yoongi this is not a yandere situation sorry), mentions of loneliness, a nightmare (obvs its me writing duh), horror movie mentioned...........idk if there's anything else but please do lmk

There is a soft knock at the hotel room door. You check the peephole to see Yoongi standing there, tapping rhythmically on his leg as he waits for you to let him in.

“Well, as far as I can tell, you’re not being followed,” he says as he enters, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it onto the chair by the sofa.

You sit on the sofa, rubbing your temples. “Well, that’s a relief,” you say tiredly.

“All this trouble for a guy you’re not even dating,” Yoongi says mildly, but he’s looking at you with his curious eyes, trying to gauge your mood.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever even talked to him,” you agree, flopping listlessly onto your side. “Remind me never to smile at anyone in public ever again.”

He smiles. “Or wear similar outfits, or go to the same places,” he adds, his eyes gentle. Then he leans against the sofa, facing the wall. “It’s not your fault, though.”

“I know,” you sigh. “You know, I kind of wish it was real,” you admit.

“Why? You like the guy?” Yoongi asks sharply.

“Not really,” you muse. “I mean, he is handsome. But it’s really that if I were in a relationship, it would mean that someone got close enough to me to like me.”

“I know you,” he responds indignantly. “And I like you.”

“You’re my bodyguard. You are paid to like me, so it doesn’t count,” you protest.

Yoongi shakes his head, annoyed. “On a good day,” he says scathingly, “I’d like you even if you weren’t paying me.”

“That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” you say, and the tension in the room dissolves as Yoongi gives you a smirk. “Who knew it would be so lonely to be a celebrity,” you say lightly, unable to escape a twinge of bitterness in your voice.

“It’s not all bad,” Yoongi reminds you, nodding out the massive windows at the spectacular skyline view.

You smile at the setting sun. “True,” you allow. “This part I like.” You watch for a few minutes as the sun sinks almost imperceptibly lower. “You must think I’m so spoiled.”

Yoongi shrugs. “I can see how there would be drawbacks. Personal privacy is a luxury that only poor people can afford.”

You tsk at him. “You’re talking in riddles again,” you scold. “It’s a condition at this point. You should really have it checked.”

He grins. “Just say you aren’t smart enough to understand,” he shoots back.

You chuckle, loving the back-and-forth. “Just say you have to pretend to be smart by using big words,” you retaliate.

He bows, his grin wider, as if to say, “you won this round”. “So,” he says, going to the mini fridge and popping a can of soda open. “What shall it be tonight, madame?”

You crinkle your nose in disgust at his butler-like tone. “Something spooky. In honor of fall,” you tell him, handing him the remote.

When he had become your bodyguard two years ago, at the recommendation of your agency, you had learned that he was required to work long into the night at your side. Feeling bad, you had started to watch movies every night when he came around so that he’d at least have something to do. Your relationship had come a long way — he had started out watching the movies from the back of the room, standing by the door, to now, sitting beside you on the sofa. This was representative of your relationship as well — when you had first met he was cold and professional, but now the two of you bantered back and forth in a way that was comfortable and easy. You really couldn’t remember ever feeling so comfortable with anyone, in fact.

It was hard to know when your less responsible feelings for him had begun. Truthfully, you suspected that you had just developed an unhealthy attachment to the only person you spent time around, but there were nights when you’d watch him writing in a little pocket-sized notebook, his long hair falling in front of his face, and imagine how it might have been if you’d met in a normal way — at a college somewhere, where he’d bring you a juice every day and help you study for exams. Now, there was barely a way to tell if what you felt when you saw him — that accelerated heart rate, that quiet thrum of energy in your mind — was real, or if it came from your own foolishness.

You watch him now — his face in the dying sunlight is so pretty you’re almost jealous, and the feeling in your chest pulses in a way that is almost painful. He turns on the TV and scrolls through shows until he finds a promising title: some horror film about an old woman in a spooky old house with a mysterious secret. As you begin the movie he has his arms folded, watching with veiled interest. But he notices the first time you flinch.

“Scared already?” he teases.

“You don’t miss a trick,” you say ruefully. “Pay attention.” You gesture to the screen.

About fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock at the door that corresponds perfectly to a jump scare in the movie, and you yelp in fright. Yoongi gets up, brow furrowed. “Are you expecting anyone?” he asks.

You shake your head no. He looks through the peephole and curses. “It’s your stalker again,” he grumbles, pulling out his cell phone. “Hey, Harvey,” he says, and his voice is calm, but you can tell he’s angry. “I need you to come up to the room and grab something. I was hoping it had already been taken care of.”

The voice of the hotel security team lead says something unintelligible, and Yoongi thanks them before hanging up. He slides the two chains into their places on the door and takes a door jam from his pocket, wedging it between the door and the floor. He grins at your wide eyes. “Don’t worry, milady,” he says, “he can’t get in even if he figures out how to unlock the door.”

“But what if he did get in?” you whisper, spooked.

He shrugs. “I’d kill him,” he replies.

“For real?!” you squeak,

“No,” he says with an eye roll. “But I would incapacitate him in record time. That dude is a wimp.”

He seems to notice you’re nervous, and his eyes soften. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly. “I’ll take care of you.”

When he sits back down, he sits closer to you than normal. Your legs are touching. You look at him quizzically and he smiles. “It’s a small couch,” he says, throwing an arm up over the back of the couch — not around your shoulders, but close enough that you’re blushing.

You try to focus on the movie, but you find that despite your anxiety, you’re beginning to nod off. Almost automatically, you find yourself leaning toward Yoongi’s warmth, and your head finds his shoulder. Giving in to the exhaustion, you find yourself in dreams.

It’s not long before the dreams turn dark. You have been prone to bad dreams as a result of your overactive imagination, but these are more solid than your usual nightmares — stealing from reality and stretching it so that teeth are too long, smiles are too wide, and the hands that reach for you are too strong. You wake up with a gasp.

You’re in your bed. You flick on the bedside lamp and put a hand to your chest, breathing deeply, still anxious. When a soft voice calls your name, you nearly jump out of your skin. Yoongi has poked his head into your bedroom, and is now looking at you in amusement. “It’s just me,” he says, stepping inside. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to recover, although your voice still shakes. “I just had a bad dream.”

He grins. “No more falling asleep to horror movies,” he says in a fake-stern voice. “Do you need anything?”

“I think I’d like if you stayed with me a minute,” you confess, your voice quiet, looking at your hands. You are more nervous he’ll say no than you are about the dreams.

When you finally meet his gaze, his expression is unreadable. He walks silently to the side of your bed and sits down beside you. You can’t help but admire how the lamplight casts an alluring shadow on his face before he does something unexpected.

He reaches out, and without looking at you, slips your hand in his.

You stare at him. He has never done this before — never touched you when he could avoid it. You’d always been grateful and a bit disappointed about this. You knew he should keep his distance and simultaneously wished he wouldn’t. To say you’re startled wouldn’t even begin to cover it.

And yet, holding his hand is soothing. You feel your fear fade away, and in a moment of boldness, give his hand a shy squeeze.

He looks at you, then at your interlocked hands. He takes a deep breath. “Well, I need to quit my job.”

This revelation is shocking. “Why?” you ask, suddenly panicked. “If I did something — I mean, I’m sorry if I crossed a line —“

He puts a finger to your lips. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says gently.

“Then stay with me,” you say, knocking his hand away from your lips.

“I can’t work for you when I feel the way I do about you,” he explains, almost in a pleading tone.

"What are you talking about?" you ask.

"I love you," he blurts.

You gape at him. "What?"

He blushes. "You heard me."

You look at his hand in your hand, and then back to him. "Are you serious?" you ask him, unable to keep a smile from your voice.

He rolls his eyes. "If you're just gonna make me keep repeating myself, this conversation isn't going to go anywhere." He stands up and places your hand back into your lap. "I'll give you some time to process."

You leap out of bed and follow him. "Wait a minute," you say, grabbing his hand. "How do you know you love me?" you ask him, your eyes searching his.

Yoongi blushes, but he looks a little pleased that you've grabbed his hand. "Well," he says, slowly digesting your question, "I think it's pretty easy to know. Of everyone I've ever met and spent time with, I've never enjoyed being around anyone the way I like being around you. Nobody makes me smile like you do, and nobody makes me crazier."

You blink. "Well, I feel all those things about you."

He raises his eyebrows. "You do?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't have many real friends," you explain, "but I'd rather stay in with you and watch movies than go out, or go anywhere really."

"You would?" he asks.

You give him a pointed look. "Now who's repeating themselves?"

He shakes his head. "I'm just shocked. Are you saying you love me back?"

You look at him, trying to find the answer yourself. Your heart is pounding harder than it did at any scary movie, and the heat of his gaze is making you feel flushed and squirmy. You struggle for words. "I --"

Yoongi throws his jacket and keys onto the couch, and in one swift movement he pulls you into his chest. He places his hand on your cheek. "What do you feel right now?" he whispers, his lips inches from yours.

"It's hard to know," you whisper back. "Completely crazy, but somehow calm. Entirely safe, but terrified. It's like I'm on top of something very high, but wearing a harness."

He gives you a tender smile. "That sounds like love to me." And then he kisses you.

You cling to him as he presses a kiss to your lips, then your cheeks and jaw and nose and forehead. Sighing in relief, you melt into his arms, enjoying the feeling of being adored. After he finishes kissing you, he holds you in his arms for awhile, running his hand down your back in soothing motions.

You carefully monitor your feelings as he holds you, realizing that after all this time alone, you could be a bit out of touch with them. You feel a lot of things -- wild and alive and a little dizzy -- but the undercurrent of your feelings is peace and quiet. It feels right.

"You do need to quit," you say suddenly.

He pulls back. "Why?" he asks, shocked.

"Because I do love you back, and I'm not about to pay my boyfriend to hang out with me," you say. "That's pathetic, even for me."

He laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear. "As you wish, love."

"You can hire your replacement in the morning," you say, kissing him again.

#bts #bts fluff #min yoongi fluff #missing min yoongi? well me too so i wrote this #missing yoongi hour #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #agust d #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts agust d #yoongi imagine #kpop

201 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

Text

Kinktober 2023, Day 5

We Don't Need No Thought Control

Summary: Ransom could always block out others thoughts. It never bothered him. Never was an issue until you. A student that not only tested his nerves daily, but one that had the most salacious thoughts in her head. If you wanted to be used so much, you could just say it out loud. He definitely gets off on punishing you. It’s what you deserve.

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, mind reading, teasing, female masturbation in public, degradation, age gap, teacher/student, mentions multiple of multiple partners, bondage, unprotected sex, PIV sex, blindfold, creampie, implied snowballing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.9K

Series Masterlist

Ransom looks back out to the class, trying to skip over your face. Why were your thoughts so loud? It was a burden hearing people’s voices, but yours were screaming. You weren’t paying attention to anything he was teaching, but your thoughts were on him. Little minx.

You were about as filthy as the books you always had with you. Your brand of porn. Age gaps and professors, and he was your current fantasy. How you needed life to imitate art. The scenarios you thought had him wanting to sin and go against his moral code. On the outside you looked like this sweet and innocent young lady. On the inside you were so fucking deviant. You wanted to be used.

You wanted not just Ransom to use you, but to bring in Ransom’s friends, while you sweetly cooed, “Yes, Professor Drysdale,” just before your mouth was stuffed full of cock.

Filthy. Disgusting. And Ransom wanted your body sticky with sweat and dripping his cum. If you wanted to be a slut, he could make you be his slut. Especially since you wanted to scream your dirty thoughts so loud. He can’t even fucking focus.

Sitting in the front row with your legs spread. Your barely there panties, showing off more of your pussy lips than not. God, he wanted to taste you. He wanted to feel your silky skin wrapped around his length. Needed to hear your sweet little whimpers as you took his cock like a good girl. Biting at your lip and furrowing your brow at how hard and deep he was pounding in you.

“Professor Drysdale?” If the sounds you were making in your head were anything like the real thing, he was going to enjoy making sure you got an A on the next assignment.

“Professor Drysdale?” You wanted to be used and degraded. Your body would be his to destroy. Ruin you. Have you under his desk during class, and choking on his cock, while your desperate little body grinds on his foot.

“Professor Drysdale!”

“What?” Ransom slams his book down on the desk, his eyes roaming around the class before landing on you. Fucking bitch. You smirk at him, spreading your legs further. Your hand drifts in between your thighs, and you move aside your panties. Your cunt leaks out onto the seat, and an audible growl exits his mouth. Slut. You’ll pay for that.

“Are you going to give us the assignment for the weekend?”

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath as he shuffles around on his desk. Your mind was blaring your mewling voice. Your tits bouncing around as he pounds into you. Why were you so vivid with details? And why the fuck were you really in front of him slipping a finger inside of yourself. Pulling it out so he can see how slick and sticky your honey is.

“Just have fun jacking off. Um…riding the…get out of my classroom,” he turns around facing the wall while everyone leaves. He doesn’t have to turn back around to know that you were still there. A thought that you hoped he would lock the door paints into his mind. You are communicating with him. He does.

“Professor Drysdale, won’t you look at me?”

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” he answers honestly. Still refusing to turn around. You needed his attention.

“Only if we get caught,” he still doesn’t turn around, but he hears the loud squelching sounds your fingers make with every stab into you that you make. “I’m so wet right now. You can do whatever you want, professor. I’m your student. Teach me.”

“Fuck you,” he groans. His cock strains the material of his pants, and he wants to bend you over and drive himself so deep into you that you see stars. Spanking your ass for good measure. Hoping that you understand you can not be giving him so much grief during class.

“You can fuck me if you want. I’ll be your good student. Don't you want to mold me to your fat cock? I see your thoughts, sir. I know you want your cock in every hole. I know that you want your friends to watch as I take you like a good girl.”

“Those are your thoughts,” he finally turns to look at you, and you are bouncing on your own fingers. Giving him a show of your cunt swallowing every inch of your knuckles. Your pussy was wrapped tight around your fingers, and he knows it is going to hurt. He wanted it to. You were being a bad girl.

“Punish me then. I am a dirty little slut whore, and you need to punish me.”

“These are your thoughts,” he tells himself more than you. He’s unsure. Had these been his thoughts all along?

“Are they? You had them first. I just added to them. Made them more colorful. Professor, I want you to use every inch and every hole. Mmm, I’m almost there,” you whine, your fingers getting soaked with your juices. “I’m going to come. Professor, I’m…”

“Don’t come,” annoyed, you stop your movements, and sit still watching him. “Not here. I’m going to text you the address to my house, along with my code to get in, and I want you sprawled out on my bed. If you want me to use you, I’ll use you. You might want to rethink this now. Do you want to be fully taken down into my depravity?”

“Yes,” why would you not? Professor Drysdale looks as if he was carved by the gods themselves. He is the reason you had all these thoughts. They kept you up so late at night, and no matter what you did, it was never enough. You need him.

“You want me to have you tied up to where you have no say what gets done to you, because it’s not about your pleasure, it’s about mine. I’ll have you edged so many times you’re going to beg to come on my cock. Have tears rolling down your eyes. I’ll have you so fucked up and sore, you won’t be able to fill my head with your disgusting thoughts. I’ll just know how sore that tight cunt is. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes.”

——

Professor Drysdale starts circling around you. Asshole had put a blindfold on you, and you couldn’t see what he was doing. All you can do is envision how he was looking at you. He had you all tied up, and unable to move.

“Professor?”

“Mmm,” his finger runs up the gusset of your ruined panties before skimming back down, “Why do you wear these panties?”

“I want you to look,” you tease. Letting your mouth turn up into a devilish grin.

“Oh, I’ve looked. And you’re a fucking disgusting little slut. You just want me to use you?” You nod your head, slowly starting to grind on the chair. “Needy little thing. Which other professors do you let see you desperate like this?”

“Does it bother you? Thinking about your colleagues staring at my dripping cunt? Leaving my chair soaked, and they go back to lick it. Locking their door to stroke their cock thinking about fucking me on their desk?” You paint a filthy picture. He knew they all had thought about you. He could see their thoughts of teaching class while they rail into you. But to hear you so confidently tell him that you knew about their thoughts pissed him the fuck off

“You vicious little bitch,” his hand slaps over your cunt, and then he pushes you back on the bed. Ripping off your panties. “Clenching around nothing. When was the last time you were fucked?”

“Professor Winchester bent me over his desk last week. He wasn’t a fucking pussy.”

“Bitch,” he growls, yanking you down the bed, and his fat cock slams into you. Giving you no time to adjust to his width. Just starts pounding into you. Hard and angry because his jealousy was getting the best of him. You could tell it would.

Ransom was your typical only child. Bred to get everything he wanted, and what he wanted was you to control. To own. To show off to his friends that you begged him every night to do whatever he wanted. You might be learning something from his Lit class, but were learning more about taking his cock like a good girl.

You are so responsive to him. Whimpering, and praising him. Feeding his ego just like he was feeding your cunt. Watching your body suck him back in, and you wrapped around so tightly, not wanting to let him go that he’s ready to blow his load right then and there.

He can’t. But he also has no intentions to stop fucking you. It’s your punishment for pushing those thoughts into his head. He would make sure all of your darkest fantasies came true. Starting right now. This was only the beginning. His good little whore. He didn’t mind sharing, but you were his. And you could only fuck who he said. And he would watch every single fucking time.

“Whose slut are you?” His hand slides up your body, and he wraps his fingers around your throat. “Who’s slut?”

“Yours,” you weakly get out. He feels too good. He was hitting every spot inside of you. Your backside was soaked with your juices. Ransom seemed to get a high on how wet and messy you were alone. “I’m your slut!”

“Exactly. You better remember that,” he says, jerking off your blindfold. You blink away the stars in your eyes. Both from Ransom’s motions, and the assault of light to your eyes have you blind.

“Aww, you sure you don’t want to be all of ours?”

“NO!” Ransom grunts as he spears into you harder. Deeper.

“But ‘Professor’,” someone’s voice goes up an octave, impersonating you. “She needs to have her core classes taught, huh?”

“Professor Barnes?” Anatomy. “Oh, god,” your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your cunt was loud. And the other three men crowd around to watch. Or wait their turn, who knew anymore.

“Hands off!” Ransom smacks at another’s hand as he tries to pinch your nipple. “I am the one to control her!”

“Why you?” There were so many of them. You couldn’t keep up. Why was your math teacher here?

“Because she has the nastiest thoughts about me!” His head tilts back to the ceiling while he pounds into you. Your body was going to be bruised from the inside out. Unable to grab onto anything, you just scream out in pleasure. Your walls clenching down around him right as he spurts his thick cream into your womb.

“If you want her,” he pants, stepping back from you. All of them watch in awe as Ransom’s cream seeps out. “Clean her up. Sweetheart, meet your teachers; Barnes, Winchester, and Miller. I know several others are curious. But who do you belong to?”

“You,” you whimper, watching three men sink to their knees, ready to clean Ransom’s spunk out of you. “I belong to professor Drysdale.”

“Of course you do. No fucking unless I’m around, okay?”

“Okay, professor,” you whine as three mouths fight for a taste of your cunt. Kissing and nipping on your thighs. Sucking on your sensitive pearl. Lapping up every ounce of yours and Ransom’s juices.

“This is going to be a long weekend, Minx. But let us teach you a few things. You just take what’s given to you.”

“Yes, professor. I’ll take it. Just own me,” and they would. They would own and destroy each and every one of your holes. They are going to have you sticky with sweat and cum, and you are going to take whatever they give you. Whenever they wanted. But you would always belong to Ransom.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fics #knives out #chris evans #chris evans character

340 notes · View notes

zexapher · 4 months

Text

Art Imitates Life

Had this idea in my back pocket for what must be a few months now, but after Akumu_Oukoku’s wonderful ‘Weiss is silly’ meme, I thought I’d finally put this one together. That, and I wanted to make a little something to celebrate White Knight’s glorious victory in Ship Wars 8! The hordes of r/fnki well and truly descended upon the tournament, and all the better for White Knight!

I think there were a few folks on the regular sub that hadn’t quite realized just how popular White Knight had become within the community, but fnki itself has turned into something of a fortress for the ship, and the results of the tourney speak for themselves. White Knight really wound up dominating, becoming champion by an overwhelming margin, and with just Lancaster and Nuts & Dolts putting up strong competition in the previous rounds.

I’m impressed, and super stoked. It’s really something special seeing White Knight come out so strong after so many years treated as a pariah, having never before made it past the first round but now becoming the champion. The stars had aligned, really. The final round taking place on Weiss’ birthday, White Knight winning the championship being the perfect gift. Volume 9 had given the ship strong foundations to stand on. We can see that expressed in not only the various memes put out over time, but also in the A-Jaune-da alliance and numerous comments inundating the polls in order to promote the ship. White Knight shippers really had an incredibly strong messaging campaign this tournament, I might say no one else came close, and we always kept it positive. Everyone involved should feel proud.

Now, as for this meme, I chose these six characters (and Weiss) because I found it rather appropriate that they have all to some extent shipped White Knight in canon. Jaune, of course, is an obvious one. The story is littered with examples for him all the way through. Similarly, Weiss has been growing fonder of Jaune throughout the show, but Volume 9 saw her interest revealed in a very pronounced manner. Nora has the most tenuous claim here, having shared few moments with Weiss. However, Nora has a moment in Volume 5 where she teases Weiss about liking Jaune’s nickname, going on to tease the Ice Queen about her thawed heart.

Oscar, of course, gets his absolutely stoked look that he throws at Jaune when Weiss accepts Jaune’s invitation to the movies. Like, Oscar is just so happy for his big bro. Blake has a moment or two over the course of the show, notably her happy little glance between Jaune and Weiss at the Argus reunion, her smug look at the ~mature~ line, and how she perks up at Weiss’ giggle with Jaune about his restored youth. No real surprise there, since Blake is actually Jaune’s offscreen super-secret best friend. Yang herself throws a little dating advice Jaune’s way, and gets her ‘one day’ line, when our boy was down in the dumps following a rejection or two. She points out to Weiss that her harshness rejecting Jaune is the sort of thing that earned her the Ice Queen nickname. And, like Blake, Yang gets her own smug look following the ~mature~ line. Then there’s my most controversial addition to this list, Pyrrha. After all, she did walk Jaune through how to ask Weiss to the dance.

Yes, this was all an excuse for me to make a post about every little scrap from the show suggesting the characters ship White Knight. If anyone can think of any more, feel free to share. Maybe Cindere killing Jaune’s rival love interests, yet her attempts on Weiss’ life seem to have only helped Jaune and Weiss grow closer, hmmm. Well, I hope you all enjoy, I had good fun making it!

76 notes · View notes

formulaforza · 2 years

Text

furniture-- c.leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 750 a/n: thank u dani for snapping my writers block. art imitates life fr fr here

Are you busy? You texted him, tossed your phone onto the ground next to you and assessed the situation in front of you for the hundredth time. Pieces of wood everywhere, harware everywhere, a cordless drill your dad had given you when you moved out years ago–one he didn’t show you how to use.

What had started as a simple Friday evening project, rearranging your apartment living room, had transformed into an all-consuming weekend of furniture and clutter shopping. The Ikea box–boxes–sit torn apart on the floor and the instruction pamphlet is disheveled amongst the mess somewhere.

Never for you, he replies, you roll your eyes.

You reach for your phone, quickly type out your response. Come over? You text, and immediately follow it up. Not for the reason you think.

He’s knocking on your door twenty-five minutes later, three knocks, pause, and then another. Just like always. You try to manuver your way out of the maze of wooden boards and dowels and hardware and the dreadful drill to get to the door. He’s on his phone when you open it, quickly shuts it off and shoves it in his pocket and smiles at you like an idiot. “Hi.”

“Help.” You say, straight-faced and serious because you’re in so over your head it’s not even funny. He laughs, you swing open the door nad mumble out a preemptive apology.

He chokes your name out through a laugh as soon as he sees the mess. “What have you done?”

“Can you help me?” You say over his shoulder, over his shaking head. Disbelief, amazement, fear, probably all of the above because you’ve truly created a monster.

“Cherie, what am I looking at, even?” He scratches the back of his head, his neck, just inside the collar of his t-shirt.

“Entertainment center.”

He tries not to laugh. Fails miserably. “Are you sure?”

“I think.”

“Oh, mamma mia.” He shakes his head, looks at you and reflects your pout. “You’re so cute.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you going to help me, or not?” You are so far beyond help, mon amour, he sighed, told you to get something to drink and that he would figure out how to undo whatever you’d done and build the furniture the way it was originally intended to be built. “You don’t want my help?”

“I am scared of your help.” You would be offended if everything you’d managed to put together looked even a little bit like what the end goal was, but, he was probably right to be scared by what you could do. You were a little scared by how badly you’d managed to screw it up. It felt like maybe someone should take away your rights to adult if you couldn’t built a simple peice of furniture. “If I teach you, you won’t have to ask for my help next time.”

“This is truly an enlightening experience,” you say, pop another piece of fruit into your mouth. “Dinner and a show.” Who knew watching your guy-who-isn’t-your-guy play with high stakes Swedish legos could be so attractive. It’s just furniture, you’d try to remind yourself, and then he'd use your drill like his dad taught him how to use one instead of just giving him one as a gift.

“Who gave this to you?” He asked about the drill the first time he picked it up. “I don’t think they liked you much.”

You laughed. He laughed at your laugh. “My dad,” you answered, and he shrugged his shoulders, didn’t confirm or deny his previous claim. You don’t know if he plays it safe because you’ve told him too much–or too little–information.

Despite a few of the screws angled just a bit awkwardly, the only real victim of the entertainment center debacle of 2023 is a single wooden dowel that snapped clean in half. “Do you have super glue?” He asked when the two of you finally stopped laughing about it. I have nail glue, you told him, and only time will tell if the cosmetic solution actually worked.

“My hero!” You joked, stood up on your tip-toes to throw an arm around him, admired your–his–work now that the console had been set in it’s forever home. “I could not have done it without you.”

“You would’ve figured it out.” He says, smiles down at you like he isn’t a liar. “It just would have been…”

“A disaster?”

He chuckles. “Abstract.”

“Oh.” You laugh, kiss him because how can you not? “You’re sweet.”

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 2023 #f1 fandom #cl16 #mack's 10 days of fluff #day 8

727 notes · View notes

learnthebreakdown · 6 months

Text

I made this post about how moved I am yr addressed racism with Felice/Simon. It prompted me ponder issues about this fandom (starting how the nonwhite characters are treated in this fandom, and if people would sympathize with Wille as much if he was black instead of white, for example. But then it spiraled into other things as well) I've never had the courage to post about before, but yr gave me courage lmao (putting a disclaimer that I don't hate any of the characters as people...actually I adore most of them...except August). This season showed how ingrained racism is, it exists in so many "invisible" ways, where people can act as if it's not real since it makes them uncomfortable to deal with their own hidden biases, or worse, because they think their biases are actually justified. I've seen some mentions about how the audience of this show reflects the exact prejudices the show claims to criticize.

There's a notable pattern where even minor rich kid characters receive disproportionate sympathy/recognition and others face unwarranted criticism, reflecting societal biases and how we are conditioned. While tumblr has been better this season especially with time, tumblr (and esp other social media) sites often have much more sympathy for Wille over Simon, for example. Simon across sites gets a lot of undue downright vile comments from the fandom, or is just disregarded more. Part of this could be because Wille is the main character, and Simon's perspective was not shown super well in season 2, but Simon/Omar often get a lot of comments that aren't unsimilar to the racist and vile comments we saw Simon get in the show. It made me wonder- if Wille had not been white, if he had been black, would people still have found as much sympathy for him during his angry outbursts? How strange that many people seem to find sympathy for Wille and even August, but not for Simon, even though if we are being realistic...Simon is an equally complex character that has not done many bad things? How interesting that people barely discuss Felice's storyline, but there are people that gag over the rich white kids, stederika and henry/walter (especially after Felice's storyline this season, and when we have Rosh as a canon sapphic lower class girl). How wild that the girls' storylines- Felice and Sara's- are disregarded? People often act like Wille and Simon have gotten the same amount of hate, but if you've been in this fandom long enough and seen the overall situation, I think people know that Wille is favored over Simon overall, and the hate/disregard they get is not equivalent, especially considering Simon is the second lead.

I'm not saying all of this is due to prejudice, or that everyone who has ever done these things is an awful person, it's more just an observation that if we are honest with ourselves, hidden biases certainly play a role in ALL of our thoughts/behaviors. Even for those who may not actively engage in it, do we enable it? And with a show like Young Royals that is attempting to (not always succeeding, but an attempt was made this season) to critique these social structures of racism and classism, wouldn't it be nice if, as we go into this final episode, we look inwards and see what biases we may carry that affect our perception of this show, and more importantly, real life? Life imitates art, after all.

#young royals #wilmon #simon eriksson #felice ehrecrona #prince wilhelm #stederika #just some thoughts I'm not trying to start a fire here #just thought it would be cool if we think about some of the issues the show brought to the forefront #sara eriksson #damn I mentioned so many characters didn't I

130 notes · View notes

chaosandwolves · 7 months

Text

Ok, so

Ep 07x04 - Buck, bothered and bewildered

Possibly referring to the song

Bewitched, Bothered, And Bewildered by Ella Fitzgerald

Some lyrics:

Men are not a new sensation I've done pretty well I think But this half-pint imitation Put me on the blink

Lost my heart, but what of it He is cold I agree He can laugh, but I love it Although the laugh's on me

He's a fool and don't I know it But a fool can have his charms I'm in love and don't I show it Like a babe in arms

Love's the same old sad sensation Lately I've not slept a wink Since this half-pint imitation Put me on the blink

But I'm like sweet seventeen a lot

"Couldn't eat, was dyspeptic

Life was so hard to bear

Now my heart's antiseptic

Since you moved out of there

Romance, finis, your chance, finis

So this ep will be focused on Buck

We know he's - yet again- on a self discovery journey but - hopefully- finally reaching the turning point

This whole song is very much Buck like... "lost my heart but what for", "Love's the same old sad sensation", "but I'm like sweet 17 a lot"

That's one side of it

The other is being stunned and revived by someone

I'm wondering if he maybe has a bi re-awakening

Some guy he absolutely crushes on and only then does he realize that... Actually if I can have sex with guys, why not have a relationship with them... Maybe this will change something...

And he finally, very slowly, starts to realize something

It's all just about Natalia and him realizing that it's not it and he was just a little bit bewitched

Cause the "bewitched" is missing in the title and that means that he's not anymore but now he's

Bothered - cause he fell into the same pattern like always

Bewildered - cause something is dawning on him

Still choosing a song with the line "Men are not a new sensation" is WILD

Episode 7x05 - You don't know me

Possibly referring to the song

You Don't Know Me by Ray Charles

To you, I'm just a friend That's all I've ever been No, you don't know me

I never knew the art of making love Though, my heart aches with love for you, yeah I'm afraid and shy, I let my chance go by A chance that you might love me too

You give your hand to me, and then, you say goodbye And then, I watched you walk away beside the lucky guy I know you'll never know the one who loved you so No, you don't know me

I mean this screams Eddie pov

If Buck does have a bi thing going on...

Eddie would possibly be like... Oh so it would've been a possibility after all?

But now I'm too late

And he obviously only ever saw me as a friend

I pray to all the TV gods this will result in a talk with either Karen or Maddie

Cause even though we all agree the man has already realized his feelings for Buck

If there was a bi thing... that would change his perspective

But he'd also be afraid

Thus a talk with either a competent queer person (who is not the 118) or someone who knows a side of Buck he doesn't and knows if that could actually still be a real possibility

But honestly that's just what I wish for myself here

Anyway

I think though that watching Buck with Natalia, it makes Eddie's heart ache and Marisol will just be another Ana... Just a way to do what's expected of him, what's right, what seems good

But also I feel the "You don't know me" directly relates to the "She sees me"

So I feel... Maybe something happens and - like always- Eddie is there and giving Buck exactly what he needs cause he knows and sees Buck

Maybe Buck makes a queer related joke... Something along the lines of...

Haha wouldn't it be easier if you liked guys, we could just date each other!...

and Eddie answers "I'm afraid, you don't know me that well"

Ok I'm venturing into fic inspo now

But I think the contrast of these two songs is so interesting and the way they relate to Buddie SO HARD

And I will not stop talking about that god damn "Men are not a new sensation" line

Anyways we all didn't want to clown again but I'm afraid the clown train is boarded and rolling and it's a party

#Buddie #S7 spec #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 abc #7x04 #7x05 #Buddie meta #Or whatever this is #Actually wanna write that fanfic now #But I'm tired and in pain #Gods this is gonna be another hell of a ride

98 notes · View notes

jellolegos · 19 days

Note

you mentioned that palaeography in hotd can be considered your special interest, yet the only thing i know about it is that it studies writing in historical context

SO please tell me more?? was it high valyrian that sparked the interest? if it was, what moment did? and has grammar changed over the years? does it have an interrelation with cultural events? i will read literally anything you would like to ramble about

genuine curiosity of a linguistics major

and, cannot miss a chance to say, your art is absolutely utterly stunning :)

thank you in advance!

Oh of course! My apologies, I think I may have been misleading, I've mostly been interested in the type of script they are using in the show. Unfortunately I've always been a bit more numerate rather than literate (as I am certain you'll pick up on as you read my writing, it has never been my strong suit) so honestly I haven't a clue about linguistic aspects! But, I believe the creator of the languages in the HotD/GoT universe is actually on here, his blog is: @dedalvs :)

Mostly what I meant by 'Palaeography' is since we have such a lovely opportunity to see book pages in HOTD I've been very much interested in what script model the artist was attempting to imitate.

I, I think like a lot of other hobbyists of niche interests, am always interested to see what gets translated from real life to screen. Just as I'd imagine you're interested in the conlang aspects of HotD! So I've been really interested to see what they're trying to do with the books in HotD. Without futher ado...

Hotd, Palaeography, and a Needlessly Thorough Examination of a Manuscript Page

All manuscripts I talk about here have clickable digitised links, so if you want to take a peep beyond what I talk about, feel free. They are really lovely manuscripts!

Disclaimer before the yapping commences that I am a Pre-Conquest gal and most of what I'll be talking about is Post-Conquest, and also that my research at a graduate/post-graduate level has been more involved with manuscript materiality (which I am again, happy to talk about, just not on this already-overly-wordy ask), rather purely palaeographic pursuits.

I should also say that none of this analysis is significant for any reason relating to the plot; this is just an examination of the prop art!

Also I am definitely NOT an expert in any way, shape, or form, so there are absolutely things I am missing here, there, everywhere... you have been warned.

Onto the yap...

Explaining the Frame

Before I fully get into it I think it is a little bit important to establish why historians study scripts at all. In a modern world, where writing is ubiquitous and literacy rates are high, it can be sometimes hard to understand why scripts are historically consequential (and why Pre-Reaganite/Thatcherite austerity, there were such things as tenured Professors of Palaeography!).

I think the best way to frame this is to use an example:

Above are two paintings. They are depicting the military action and are created with the same tools and by artists living in the same century and a half and in broadly the same geographical location. Now, if I were to say something like 'These are both paintings of military actiom, therefore they are the same', technically I wouldn't be incorrect. But I would be missing a huge component of these pieces!

In other words, just like painting, the form is just as important as the content itself; a scribe does not simply choose to write differently one day to the next but rather scripts, like any other art form, are nuanced and just as worthy of study as the actual text itself. As vehicles of text, how that text is manipulated, displayed and otherwise portrayed, can often tell us (as historians - amateur or not) a great deal about the surrounding historical period.

So something that is important to remember as I describe what is essentially, font analysis, is that the value placed on said font in an academic context is the result of historical weight placed on script that is almost entirely alien to a world where I can easily swap between Arial and Papyrus.

So, what script do they use in the HotD manuscript??

I can tell you its most certainly attempting to imitate a form of textualis. As one of the most profuse (spatially and temporally) script models, I would say it's a great choice. I think it the popular conception of manuscripts (what a manuscript should look like), this is what people would probably choose precisely for that reason! Textualis is/was popular from the thirteenth through the fifteenth centuries across Europe.

MS545 -14thc.

It was developed as a documentary script (aka used for documents, such as charters) but came to be used more often in prestige non-documentary manuscripts (like liturgical volumes, or conceivably, like Nymeria's history).

A charter with the seal intact from Magdalen College, Ox

It comes in different forms called 'grades', what those 'grades' are really depends on which scholar you want to follow. From my teaching, they are precissa, quadrata, semi-quadrata, and rotunda (from highest grade to lowest grade). Without getting into too much detail, different grades of textualis are often determined by the shape of the minims (aka bottom of the letter).

(Clockwise from upper left: Precissa [all letters are terminated neatly at the baseline - MS233 -14thc], Quadrata [all letters have little diamonds at the bottom - MS545 -14thc.] Semi-Quadrata [minims with intermittent attempts at feet - MSStowe17 - 14thc] Rotunda [rounded out minims - MS Add. 2. 263]).

Part of the reason this distinction is made, both between different grades of textualis and also between scripts used for documentary text and those used for non-documentary text is because manuscripts were/are valuable objects. It will obviously take longer for a scribe to diamond off every. single. minim. than it would for them to have letters flow into each other.

Something that is often forgotten in our modern period of relative book ubiquity is that manuscripts were objects subject to market forces as much as they were art pieces or vehicles of text. All things 'manuscript', from the scribes writing it to the pigment and vellum, were subject to various degrees of scarcity and luxury (which is actually what my research is about!). Below is an example of a scribe advertising their different grades of script.

MS e.Mus 198* - 14thc.

A closer look...?

Beyond just going 'yea they kinda look similar!' (deceptively, a lot of what manuscript scholarship is, lol), I can pull out a few things point me in the textualis direction. Let's take a look at the shapes of 'O' 'N' and 'G'. Our 'o' here is distinctively six-sided, which is also present on the main body of the 'g'. The 'n' similarly has a pronounced parallel line shape, with tapering on the curves.

Generally textualis has a very compact look with attention to downstrokes and neat parallel lines creating almost a 'box' effect with the x-height (aka how tall the x's are). I'm not sure how best to explain this but there is a keen dynamism in different parts of the stroke, with drastic differences in width between various parts of the ascenders/descenders in a letterform. The thick and thin elements of a letterform (such as the short corners on the 'o' or the often hairline strokes that connect the upper loop on an 'a' to the bottom loop), are really exaggerated in these scripts in a way you don't see with other earlier or later scripts.

For reference (an oversimplification to be sure, but a helpful one! Note that some of these scripts are geographically restricted, used only in Insular or Continental scribal environs)

^ Here are some real life examples of those same letter forms (L to R - LPL MS209 13thc, LPL MS75 13th c , LPL MS545 14th/15thc,)

While textualis was one of the more popular script models, other scripts were also popular in England at this time (roughly, lol). Anglicana and then Secretary hands rose to prominence, as you can see they look quite a bit different from textualis.

(MS Ashmole 35-15thc.)

These were considered lower grade scripts, used more often for documents as they can be written more quickly (important when you have many things to write!). So if we were able to take a peek at some of those scrolls that are in the Dragonstone Library, maybe we'd be able to find HotD's equivalent.

There is some crossover between these scripts and some sticky stuff about regionality, I know very little beyond surface-level, so I'm just going to point you to the resources I linked at the end.

Am Dipl. Dan LX- 15thc. with some other ones

The broad point is that textualis is most certainly a major mediaeval script, one I believe served as reference for the HotD manuscript, but it was not the only one present during the high middle ages. Now... would this script have been used at all during the succession wars that served as HotD's inspiration...?

Inspiration and Historicity:

If we're going on what scripts would have looked like in the period of the Dance's inspiration (Empress Mathilda), I would say this particular script is a bit late. Textualis reaches its more formalised state beginning at the end of the twelfth century (really, the thirteenth but..), so a little early for Rhaenyra's/Mathilda's 1115. Instead, assuming that this is entirely like our own mediaeval period, we'd be looking at the script that precedes it, called protogothic. Here are some examples:

(MS Digby 83 - 12th c England)

(CC MS 95 -12th c England)

A vernacular hand (aka. non-Latin, here old English), may look a little different. Here's one example, in what I would call Anglo-caroline script. Again, just like our documentary/non-documentary, purpose, and cost factors weigh into the script model chosen for a piece of text, so does the language (although Anglo-caroline was not restricted to vernacular!):

(MS 180, 12th c England)

You can probably see how the more formal textualis is an evolution of protogothic, rendered more professionally as the high middle ages came to pass. There is definitely a lot of interesting discussion about how script models take hold as lay literacy rates increase, as scribal practice begins to move from monasteries and limited courtly settings to 'professional scribes', but I won't get into it here.

The Critique (that no one asked for):

If I had to give an artist who did the HOTD prop a few pointers (my opinion that they definitely didn't ask for + I think they did great overall + mandatory 'script is highly variable, some of these pointers may not apply'), I would say the following:

1. Textualis in the real world, generally but not always, tends to have a two compartment 'a', it retains this from protogothic which in turn stole it from Anglo-caroline. Scripts in England prior to Anglo-caroline (which was a combination Anglo [English/Insular] and caroline [Continental/Carolingian] - see timeline above) more often used single compartment 'a's, so the dual compartment is a bit of a bigger deal.

MS Douce 366- 13thc

2. 'S' letterforms in textualis tend to be very compact. They often come in two shapes, the 'long s' and our more familiar 's' shape. In both forms there is attention to maintaining a compact figure, so when you have an entire page the x-height is strictly adhered to. By having some extra little whirly lines, the page image in the HotD manuscript is less neat overall. One exception tends to be sentence-initial 'S' letterforms, which are exaggerated because they start the sentence.

MS Bodl476- 13thc

Above are three 's' letterforms, spelling 'zacharias. Susci-(tavit-cutoff). We finish 'zacharias' with a familiar s. The next sentence starts with an exaggerated word-initial 's' which is purposefully larger and with significant spurs to signal the start of the sentence. Finally, we also have a 'long' s which looks like an l with an overhang, or an 'f' without the cross. You'll notice that the first 's' does not exceed the height of anything else in the word. Similarly, the 'long' s generally fits with the aspect of the script model, made with a thick downstroke. Only the second 'S', which is the largest, is purposefully flared to start the sentence.

On rewatching, we do get something similar-ish to majuscule letters to start sentences on other pages

It may seem a little silly, but I think the HotD script lacks this same internal logic and the flairs, which aren't technically incorrect, work against the overall appearance of the page, rendering it messier.

3. Some addtl. silly ones: 'i's in textura are not frequently dotted, those marks above letters are abbreviation marks e.g. p(er), domin(us). 'T's are usually crossed at the top rather than the middle until the late mediaeval period (again, carry over from previous scripts). Plausibly, it could look like this one from the lower Rhineland, which is less attached to that compact look overall:

MSDouce 185- 14thc.

But you'll notice a few things. The 'i's are marked with hairline marks (Michelle Brown calls these 'a light serif'), not the big dots we get with the HotD manuscript, and those 't' bars are really pretty high with exception where one letter flows into the next ('noctis' and 'peste' in line 1, 'est' with a long 's' is one I also often see with a high t bar).

A lot of this criticism on the letterforms, which is most certainly very annoying (who really gives a fuck), again just comes down to the fact that all historical scripts had an internal logic to them, and so these tiny tweaks could make the page as a whole look a little better.

4. There appears to be a great deal of space (imo too much) between the lines of text. Vellum is expensive! Even when there is deliberate space left empty in manuscripts, its not generally between the lines of text; the goal is to be relatively economical with your space, keeping significant breaks in text for mostly 1) thematic changes (ends of chapters, verses, etc.) 2) poetry lineation 3) dramatic visual effect.

(MS 52 - 9thc, - notice how space is filled with punctuation and drawn out terminal strokes to keep the diamond shape [dramatic visual effect], MS218 - 10thc. [poetry lineation])

5. Very very annoying but: in my opinion would be very difficult to rip a manuscript the way that Rhaenyra is able to. There is a very good reason why we have so many manuscripts from 1400 years ago, and that is because those things are BEASTS. There's definitely a phenomenon of survivorship bias, but any royal manuscript would be made with a well prepared skin and would be very difficult to tear.

I am aware that the very clear message of the scene is Rhaenyra's disregard for history and norms (literally ripping apart the annals of history with her bare hands), I wonder if we could have the same effect but with Rhaenyra pulling out a pen-knife or the like. She would still be destroying the manuscript, just with the weapons of war rather than with her hands.

Example of embroidery to repair a manuscript (Morgan Library)- Again, absolute beasts compared to modern books.

On manuscript physics...We also see one of the manuscripts have this wild separation between the text block and the spine:

Unlike modern book manufacturing, manuscripts usually have a very solid connection between the text block and the spine. This might be harder to verbalise than it is to show, so...The House of Stopan has lovely videos of the process, which I will be stealing for example here. Pages are sewn together on "cords":

Those cords are then cut short and frayed, then pulled through the book boards (which were usually actual pieces of thin wood, here however he's using a thicker cardboard). They're then glued to the boards.

A piece of leather (or other material), is then draped over and glued to the spine + on the outside of the boards. Those points of elevation on the spine, which I've seen added for purely aesthetic reasons in modern books (such as collector's editions), in manuscripts are actually the leather being smoothed over and shaped to the cords underneath.

The leather/material is prepared specifically so it conforms to the text block beneath. Pieces of thin cardboard or supporting material may be added between the cords on the spine.

If we take a look at this intact 11th c. Greek binding (sorry, only one I could find available!) you can actually still see the cords. In other words, I believe that an entire separation of the text block from the spine wouldn't really be plausible with a high grade manuscript (such as a courtly copy). I am no expert on manuscript manufacture, but within my knowledge of bookmaking, it stood out to me a bit! Happy to be corrected on this one especially :]

MS1175- 11thc

6. If I had to make one final note, so much of the series emphasises the fact that this is 200 years before GoT. There are attempts to archaeise various aspects of the keep and the armour. I would personally choose a script model that is a little older. I think there was probably a choice made about how accessible they wanted the manuscript text to be (so that dweebs like myself could actually read what's on the page), and I think using a slightly older script model like uncial/half-uncial would still reach that benchmark while appearing 'older'.

The Rushworth Gospels- 9thc.

Quite strangely enough Merlin, for all its historical inaccuracy actually does a really good job of hitting most of those notes I mentioned above (two compartment a's, neatly written 's's, etc.). Whether this would've been the actual script model used in Merlin's actual period is a whole different thing... and actually closer to my research interests!

As I mentioned at the beginning, I am not an expert in any sense of the word. For further reading you can check out Guide to Scripts Used in English Writings up to 1500, Cambridge History of the Book in Britain Series, A Guide to Western Historical Scripts from Antiquity to 1600 (although the plates kinda suck ass so beware.. the tragedies of photocopy technology), as really lovely books/series if you are interested! I find them to be very approachable reading for specialists/non-specialists alike and they are written by really the people who actually know about these things.

Scene.

#misc #asks

33 notes · View notes