#Monteverdi you had no right

[keratonin]

omg do you still have any of your notes or reading refs for your queer musicology class??? that sounds so interesting!!!!!

i thought i had a bunch of the articles downloaded but i guess i did not?? i'm gonna have to rectify that i Must have them

anyway here's a list of topics we covered, not in order because i do not remember the order:

castrati and countertenors (see baroque opera, jakub josef orlinski and how he presents himself in performances)

disco, as well as mainstream reactions to it

camp (but i'm a cheerleader, the music video for aqua's barbie, the medici family and their skeleton float thing?, nina west and the music video for drag is magic, can instrumental music be camp and if so how so?)

ballroom culture (+ scissor sisters, as well as madonna's vogue and her work with the queer community)

queer country (the album lavender country in particular, the idea of authenticity in country music)

hildegard von bingen and eroticism in her compositions about the virgin mary

barbara strozzi, courtesans, and the female voice as sexuality (l'arianna, monteverdi's nymph, i read the word 'secretions' a lot)

diva culture, incl. britney spears and the simultaneous purity and sexuality that's expected of divas - and if they violate that they crash and burn. (i never brought up love me 4 me by rina sawayama in that class but that's highly relevant) beyonce is an apparent exception, she has a lot of control over her own art and image which is probably why. tied this back to madonna as well

see: music video for ...baby one more time (framing of britney spears, putting the whole thing in 'her imagination'), music video for diva by beyonce, vogue again

more diva culture but this time western classical music: lucia di lammermoor and mad scenes, feminine hysteria, coloratura singing, and containing female voices

also: carmen, chromaticism, tenor and soprano vs tenor and mezzo-soprano, soprano vs mezzo-soprano in general, carmen as the Other who needs to be contained

also lady gaga's born this way music video and how it interacts with the very controlled and palatable sexuality of smth like baby one more time. lady gaga and the monster ball tour in general

the elevation of the boy soprano as a particularly special/Holy voice (compared to a woman soprano or a man falsettist, for example)

madrigals and coded language (that one famous madrigal about swans, can't remember the original name atm but it's That One with the mille mort/million deaths), along with homosocial bonds in music (madrigals were normally sung by amateurs in a private setting)

YMCA as gay anthem (see the music video, YMCAs as hookup spots)

jayne county, t rex, glam rock, david bowie and how he used bisexuality in his public image as well as his interactions w jayne county

wendy carlos and how the act of synthesizing sound interacts with what we talked about before with the sexuality of the voice etc

i can't remember if we actually covered this in the class but my final paper was GOING to be on how melancholy affected john dowland's gender presentation, how that was perceived by his contemporaries vs how it's perceived today, and then my prof was like 'that is not an 8-10 page final paper that is a dissertation. let me know if you do want to write a dissertation tho' and then i had to narrow it down to gender perception of in darkness let me dwell and u know what? he was right i did easily fill 8-10 pages just talking about one (not very long) song

[stoportotouch]

Unfortunately I know more about musicals (something) than operas (nothing) so what operas/plays/whatever do you think the gorkgon theater would put on? Not necessarily what would be historically accurate but either what you think they would be the most likely to want to try and attempt or what performance you think they would do the best given their potential resources and casting (mark has a gun and can make anyone in town play any part he wants)

ooh excellent question actually and i have genuinely thought about this. i feel like mark has a very surprising for the people around him Thing for really early opera, especially monteverdi. which is surprising with reference to the performance practices but also it kind of gives him the opportunity to flex his ability to just make his performers do really weird shit.

i have this dramaturgical theory that actually early opera would lend itself really well to the sort of early 20th century regietheater conventions that pathologic is basically built on. and with mark himself i have explained him before as "didn't get booed at bayreuth* and that went to his head" although that's. more of a spiritual thing.

for mark part of what this means is the ability to essentially "exalt" Regular People into gods, something that obviously very much appeals to him. however it also means that he gets to be a complete dick to his actors, who he has basically Exalted into gods and mythological figures. he loves this they all hate it. (of course.)

i don't think he really goes in for ~grand opera~ where you need the population of a small town for a chorus. (like wagner wanting a chorus of about 200 for the arrival of the guests chorus in tannhäuser, the perfect melody for a doorbell. for obvious reasons this would be... difficult. in the town-on-gorkhon!) and with the early opera stuff i feel like he is particularly taken in by the focus being on gods and mythology (he's interested in that in the games too!), rather than real people. (he thinks verismo is a hack job.**)

i recently read the theatre and its double, which is more in reference to straight plays than opera. but i feel like that is also Mark's All-Time Most Special Theatrical Tradition, in that there were certain passages from some of the essays therein that could have been things that the plague whispers to artemy.

if he had the resources i feel like mark would be doing the roh's migraine of a don giovanni but of course he doesn't have access to projectors and whatnot. buuuut he does, canonically, love to do the whole "character torture" stuff that everybody in that production gets. and, on a slightly more "i have a personal beef with the director" level, i'm sure he misunderstands the moving parts of every character.

*bayreuth's audiences are very... exacting. and anything that departs from their expectations for their wagners at the annual wagnerfest tends to get booed. while mark would in fact be pelted with tomatoes if he presented something at bayreuth if he didn't get booed it would go right to his head. this would be bad for everybody.

**kind of a joke kind of a "verismo is very much against the central ethos of the utopian worldview". verismo is basically Stories About Normal People but told with similar reverence to the way that stories about gods were told in earlier operatic schools. this is rather more artemy i think than anybody else (thinking of his conversation with eva in the diurnal ending).

#ollie considers #what is your song o? #thebestpartofwakingup #thank you!!

[voicestudiossongbird]

Songbird Voice Studios : Learn to sing online Want to feel more confident about your singing? You are in the right place! Songbird offers private and group voice lessons online and in Reston, Virginia. Empower yourself: Build musical skills, discover a personal joy in music-making, and find your unique voice! A native of Newark, Delaware, Mrs. Adams has been teaching private voice for over 15 years. Regina studied piano starting at an early age, and has studied voice seriously since the age of 15. She continues to enhance her personal music education through her own study of the art of singing, attendance at conferences, participation in online music educational forums, and continued efforts to seek out the latest in the fields of vocal pedagogy and voice science. Regina holds a Master of Music degree in Voice from Indiana University-Bloomington, IN as well as a Bachelor of Music degree in Voice Performance from the University of Delaware. Regina turned to teaching after a rewarding career in voice performance in New York City. She has had the privilege of singing at Lincoln Center and many other notable venues with conductors such as Kurt Masur, John Adams, Joseph Flummerfelt, Christopher Hogwood, Paul Hillier and Claudio Abbado, including a solo debut at Carnegie Hall singing John Rutter's "Magnificat" and his adaptation of the Monteverdi "Gloria". Her discography includes recordings with the Indiana University Press, Hanssler Records and Harmonia Mundi. Regina's students have won scholarships to prestigious college music programs. They have placed 2nd in Virginia All-State HS Chorus, 1st in Virginia All-District MS Chorus, and are regularly given leads in school and regional musical theatre productions such as the Bel Cantati Opera Company, the Alliance Theatre, ENCORE, and the Pied Piper Theatre. Her students have won numerous scholarships to area private schools and successfully auditioned for the ACDA National Honors Chorus, the Virginia All-State Chorus, the FCPS, LCPS and PWCS' All-County and All-District Choruses, and the Fairfax County Choral Society. Recent accomplishments include a students' acceptance into the Disney College Program (FL) as well as another students' acceptance into the Italia Conti Academy of Theatre Arts in London, UK for a 3-year degree in musical theatre. Ms. Adams resides in Reston, VA with her family and her Australian Sheep Dog rescue mix, Tillie.

[monotonous-minutia]

I'm losing my mind a little over here

#*gasps* *cries* *listens on repeat for half an hour* #howwww is this so pretty #Monteverdi you had no right #Magdalena Kožená #Anna Prohaska #Magdalena i love you.............. #im blessed she has so much on Spotify #even an Idamante aria!! #unfortunately not the whole opera :( #but i did find a full Clemenza album where she sings Sesto #and some Händel arias #and of course THIS #*dies* #who needs alcohol when you have shit like this to intoxicate you #Claudio Monteverdi #Giovanni Francesco Busenello #opera #opera tag #opera performers #divas #sopranos #mezzos #mezzo-soprano #Spotify

[moonbeamwritings]

la strada giusta

spoiler for part 5

Summary: You set off on your own, leaving Giorno and Mista behind in favor of spending the day on the beach, all in an attempt to find solace amongst the sand and golden yellow flowers. 

Author’s Note: Hello! Hope you enjoy! Just a death/grieving tw for those that are uncomfortable with that sort of thing! This hurt me to write just as much as it may hurt to read, mark my words. 

The sun streamed through your curtains, a soft reminder of the plan you had for the rest of your day. You pulled yourself up to get ready, shifting the curtains open to allow more light to enter your room, even going so far as to push your window as wide open as it could go.

It was peaceful. 

The perfect day, you thought.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you wished Mista and Giorno a quiet goodbye. They didn’t know exactly where you were going and you didn’t want them to. You loved them both dearly, but this was something you needed to do on your own, something you wanted to do on your own.

You often felt disconnected, like a boat adrift at sea, relentlessly going through the motions for the sake of the people around you. You knew that Mista and Giorno would do anything for you, but a part of you vowed to clutch your emotions close to your heart, a secret of the utmost importance.

You caught the first taxi you could, desperately trying to avoid menial small talk with the driver. He was nice enough, friendly in a way that wasn’t overbearing, but you weren’t much for talking that day.

“Right here is fine.” You told him as the beach came into view.

“You sure? I can bring you farther up that way.” He gestured down the road and around the bend, but you shook your head.

“I’m sure. Thanks so much.” You dropped money into his hand and got out, stepping onto the side of the road to stare out at the expanse of the ocean. It was calm, gently lapping at the shore as if to add just one more thing to the perfection of the day’s weather.

Sardinia is very beautiful, you thought as you ventured down the hill and onto the beach, I guess I didn’t appreciate it the first time.

You stopped walking as you reached the sand instead choosing to close your eyes and take in the peace and quiet, save for the hush of the waves. After a few moments, you began your trek down the beach, your heart only seeming to sink further into your stomach as a certain landmark came into view.

You ran your fingers along the engraving, Costa Smeralda, committing the curves of each letter to memory. You could almost hear Narancia’s voice as you focused on the cool surface of the stone.

“Don’t ask me to abandon him, anything but that. Please.”

He’d begged you to turn around, to help, but you were well aware that it was no use. In his grief, he’d accused you of not harboring as deep of feelings for the man as you said you did. It hurt, but you would never hold that against Narancia. Not now, not after everything.

You shuddered at the memory, already feeling the prick in your eyes, your hands begin to shake. It was as if each pained cry, every plea, was calling to you on the wind, harsh reminders of the misery of that day. You hadn’t seen it happen, you hadn’t looked at his body for more than a moment, but it was enough. God, it was more than enough to fuel sleepless nights and the gnawing in your chest. The claws of sorrow gripping so tightly to your heart and mind that it almost felt inescapable.

You willed your heart to slow as you pried your eyes open, gaze falling onto the patch of yellow flowers Giorno had left behind. “Abbacchio,” you mumbled, holding a hand up to your mouth as tears began to slip down your cheeks.

You sat down in the sand then, close enough to the flowers that you could reach out and feel the soft, delicate petals between your fingertips.

It was quiet.

One shaky exhale later and you felt as though you were finally ready, despite the tears still racing down your cheeks.

“Hi Abbacchio or Leone, I guess,” you chuckled to yourself, “I never did drop that whole last name thing, no matter how many times you got angry at me for it. I’m sorry for that... Well, I’m sorry for more than that. I can practically hear you saying, “No, idiot, you didn’t do anything.” I still feel guilty for not being there to protect you when it really mattered, for turning my back on you.”

You didn’t even know where to start with what you wanted to say. You felt silly, sitting on some beach far from home all to talk to a dead friend, a lover even. You were thankful it was mostly empty. Giving yourself a brief moment of silence, you continued on, grounding yourself with the feeling of sand moving beneath your feet.

“Before we all left, Fugo told me you were in love with me,” you began again, fiddling with your hands where they rested in your lap, “I never said anything because I figured he was messing with me or something. I really regret that now.”

“I love you, Leone, so much. I think about you every day. Your laugh, the way you would scowl at everyone, but give me that small, gentle smile, the sound of your voice. Everything. I can’t even listen to Monteverdi anymore, not without you.”

You let out a whimper, mind reeling with the thought of what once was, what could have been. You brushed your hands along the flowers as you carried on.

“I just wish you were here, I wish things were different. Losing you was horrible enough, but to then lose Narancia? Bruno? I don’t think I’ve ever felt so lost in my life. It’s hard, to act like I can handle it, to act like nothing happened. I know Giorno and Mista look out for me and care about me, but it just...”

Trailing off, you shrugged before shaking your head and wiping at your eyes. You fell silent again, letting the salty smell of the ocean calm your frayed nerves. After a few moments of collecting yourself, you dove into the story of what happened after, where the boss ended up, the current state of Passione under Giorno’s leadership, no detail too unimportant to describe.

You lost track of time, lying back on the sand to listen to the ocean and watch the clouds. You relished in the solitude. Before you knew it, the sun was dipping below the horizon, bathing the beach in stunning hues of pink, purple, and orange.

“I need to go,” you said, “They’ll be looking for me.”

As you sat back up, you rubbed the stem of a flower between your fingers, plucking it from the ground so you could tuck it safely behind your ear. 

“I love you, Leone. I’ll visit again soon.”

On your walk back up to the road, you felt a warm breeze brush through your hair, warming the skin of your face as it passed.

Maybe you weren’t so alone after all.

#leone abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio imagine #abbacchio x reader #abbacchio imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine

[asahipleaseloveme]

Love is Always Lovely in the End ~ Yamaguchi

Yamaguchi x reader

Warnings: none (please let me know if I missed something)

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's Note: this is partially based on an experience I had in college, only I didn't admit my feelings lol. Also, idk if Humanities is a popular course at Universities outside of the US, but it was what I was somewhat familiar with. (As always, feedback is appreciated 😊)

Tagging: @goldenshoyo

Based on: Love is Always Lovely in the End from The Drowsy Chaperone

Love sneaks up behind you Love drops from above But love would never consciously offend Love has certainly been kind to me and my true love Love is always lovely in the end

But... your late husband was a brute!

I don't mean him, you silly coot!

“Yams! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” You yelled across the courtyard of campus while waving your arms hysterically. Yamaguchi looked up from his book and stared at you, ears burning red. You ran over to meet him at the table he occupied.

“Yama...guchi…” you huffed, out of breath from your short sprint. “You were supposed to meet me in the library for our study session an hour ago, you goob!” You were half way teasing in the way you spoke to him. You knew that he tended to get carried away with his own studies.

A bright pink flushed across his cheeks.

“Wait, I thought we were supposed to study at 2?” He asked as he checked his watch. “Oh. Oh, no! I’m sorry, ______! We can go right now, if you want! Agh, I can’t believe I lost track of the time, again,” he started to trail off.

But you didn’t mind. You knew that his heart was in the right place.

“Yamaguchi, I don’t really want to go back to the library. I just sat there for an hour,” you laughed. “But, we can go back to my dorm! We can pick up some snacks and maybe some dinner and pull an all-nighter! I have a test tomorrow, did I mention that?”

“Test?! ______, I thought we agreed that after the last time you had to give me two days' notice of any tests you might have?”

“Well, yeah, now that you mention it, we did agree to that,” you say sheepishly.

Last time was a disaster. You had begged Yamaguchi to help you study for your math test. He agreed. Only, he didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to actually focus on the task at hand. You would both end up off topic and end up on the floor laughing your asses off over something stupid. It somehow took you five hours to study, and you only managed to make it through two topics.

The grade you received wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t your best work either. Yamaguchi felt partially responsible for your grade (even though you reassured him that it wasn’t his fault at all; you were the one who had to take the test after all and you knew your limits). He made you agree to tell him at least two days in advance if you had a test, so he could make sure he was able to cover all of the topics with you.

“This one just slipped my mind, I guess. I can understand if you don’t want to help me study, Yams.”

His cheeks started to turn pink again. He would never admit it, but he loved the way that nickname sounded when you said it.

“No, no. It’s okay. I want to help you. I was supposed to meet up with Tsukki tonight, but I can cancel it, no worries,” he said with a smile.

He texted Tsukki, to which he received the reply “Nerd.”

“Tsukki says good luck on your exam,” he chuckled.

“Well, then. Let’s go!” You grabbed Yamaguchi’s hand and dragged him to the nearest convenience store. You hastily went through the aisles and got what you deemed necessary for an all-nighter. Yamaguchi also picked up some things for the evening. You offered to pay for everything, especially since he had to cancel plans on your account. He insisted that you didn’t have to, but you insisted that you did.

“Yams, I’ve got this! You’re already doing me a kindness! I can make a scene if I need to,” you said in a low tone that made him a little scared.

“Um, okay. I guess I can let you get it this time.”

“Wonderful! Now, we’re all set for tonight! This is going to be so much fun!”

“You mean it’s going to be serious. We’re going to be studying, ______.”

“Right, right. Boring. Intense. Rigorous. No fun, only studying. Serious,” you reply with a smirk.

Back at your dorm, you kick your shoes off, dump the snacks on your desk, and dump your backpack on your bed. You’re humming to yourself as you find your humanities books, notebook, and pencil when you notice that Yamaguchi is still standing next to the door.

“Make yourself at home, Yams!” you exclaimed as you slapped the chair next to your desk.

He shuffled over to the chair and plopped into it. You pulled out your study guide that you had half way finished and handed it to Yamaguchi.

“Okay, it looks like you have a good start on this. I can help you finish it out and then go over it with you again. But, ______, I really don’t think pulling an all-nighter will help you get a better grade. Getting a good night’s rest is just as essential as getting in a good study session.”

You take a minute to ponder what he’s said and you have to agree with him.

“You’re right, Yams. So let’s stop talking about studying and actually start studying, goob!”

A slight tint of pink brushed across his cheeks.

“Uh, right! Where are you guys at in your studies?” He was speaking more to himself as he scanned over your study guide.

“I don’t know. Something about the Baroque and Renaissance periods. We had to read Romeo and Juliet. It’s a pretty weird take on romance if you ask me.”

“Uh, Romeo and Juliet was a tragedy, ______,” Yamaguchi said with slight confusion in his voice.

“Yams! I haven’t finished it yet! You’ve gone and spoiled it for me,” you said with a playful huff.

“Oh, uh. I’m sorry...But, hang on! Your test is tomorrow and you haven’t finished it yet? ______?!”

“I’m only messing with you, goob. I know how it ends. I just forgot it’s classified as a tragedy. That’s the main literature piece we need to know for the test. The rest is just art and music. It’s all pretty weird if you ask me.”

You pulled up all of the music and art you learned about in class and it took a few hours, but you and Yamaguchi were able to buckle down and study (minus a couple of off topic conversations). From Bach to Vivaldi to Monteverdi, from Carvaggio to Rembrandt to da Vinci, he helped you with all of it.

“Huh, that didn’t take too long, Yams! And the more that we looked over this stuff, the more it reminds me of this person I really like,” you begin to blush as the words flow from your mouth.

“But, ______, I thought you were over your ex?” Yamaguchi questions so innocently.

“I don’t mean him, you big goob!” You grabbed his hand and interlaced your fingers with his.

His whole face turned bright pink, “Oh! I...I really like you too, ______! I never thought you would like me too,” he said with a look of embarrassment on his face.

“It’s getting late, Yams. Do you want to stay over tonight? I’ll sleep on the futon and you can have the bed.”

“N-No, I really should be going and you should really get a good night’s rest. But,” he paused ever so slightly. “How about we meet for lunch tomorrow after your test? You can tell me all about it,” he smiled.

You smiled back and nodded in agreement. You were so glad that you waited to study for your test.

#Yamaguchi x reader #Yamaguchi Tadashi x reader #Yamaguchi #Yamaguchi Tadashi #Haikyuu!! #HQ #Karasuno and Broadway #I hope I did Yamaguchi justice

[hetahonda]

hetalia college AU headcanons

North Italy/Feliciano Vargas:

Fine Arts

Considered joining his brother Lovino in culinary arts, but wanted to try something outside of the Vargas family restaurant business, so here he is now

Feliciano’s favourite thing to draw is people, so his sketchbook is usually filled with drawings of his friends, family, and the occasional cat

Likes watching conspiracy videos on Youtube before bed, but scares himself to the point where he has to camp with Ludwig for the night

His Spotify playlist for when he’s working on coursework ranges from Monteverdi to songs from the Veggietales soundtrack

He’s usually really chatty, but is radio silent whenever he falls sick (which is pretty often, his immune system is terrible), and it’s unnerving as hell

Tells his professors that he’s ‘resting his eyes’ a lot to cover up for the fact that he can’t stay awake in class

Somehow, he’s friends with everyone on campus

Germany/Ludwig Beilschmidt:

Mechanical Engineering, because he’s a nerd like that

Ludwig’s notes are a work of art. He meticulously colour codes and binds all his material, and often receives offers to buy his notes during exam periods

Tends to forget to eat, so he eats a lot whenever he has the time to. His roommate Feliciano’s usually kind enough to share, his brother Gilbert not so much

President of the Student Council, and uses his Council privilege to get away with bringing his dogs into his dorm room

People call him a square - he’s a rigid, straight-edge rule follower to a t, but football season is when Ludwig is really in his element. That’s when he and Gilbert bust out the jerseys, beer, and go absolutely ham in front of the TV

Secretly wants to quit Council to join the football team

Japan/Kiku Honda:

Kiku deliberated between Digital Animation and the more ‘traditional’ route of engineering before deciding that if he was going to suffer for three years he was going to suffer doing something he liked

He only has the motivation to study at night, so he games all day and mugs all night. He lives off a diet of Red Bull and cup noodles

Roomies with Alfred. The both of them throw the sickest gaming parties every Friday night, just so that they can trash their guests at Super Smash Bros

Has a whole bunch of anime keychains and pins hanging off his bag that probably weigh more than the actual contents of his bag. Kiku’s cousin Yao’s hair got caught in it once and it took a lot of screaming before they managed to pull him free

Somehow manages to maintain that 4.0 GPA with that shitty sleep schedule/diet of his? How does he do it

America/Alfred F Jones:

ASTROPHYSICS ALL THE WAY BABY!

Al really loves his course but he also really loves putting work off until the last minute. You can usually spot him camping outside the printing room trying to print an essay minutes before submission time, but it doesn’t matter because he usually gets by with a B anyway

Overloads the fuck on extra-curriculars and clubs, so he’s quite well known around campus. He’s in the football team, track team, is Vice-President of the Student Council, and President of the anime club

He’s the poster boy of the school. College website? Alfred. College pamphlets? Alfred. Anti-smoking advisory that’s hung up in every godforsaken toilet in college? Alfred. What can he do? He’s just too damn handsome.

The biggest Halloween fucker on campus. He shows up to class every Halloween without fail in the exact same Captain America costume as last year’s

England/Arthur Kirkland:

Literature with Creative Writing

Tends to come off as snobby, but is actually really nice when you get to know him better. He’ll show up to your dorm armed with a kettle and a box of teabags if you need a study buddy or just someone to talk to

He’s also a terrible chef. The student dorms have had 6 fire scares in the past term, and they’re all Arthur related incidents

Talks big about only reading fine literature but writes fanfiction in his dorm room every night. It’s a secret he’ll take to his grave, especially since TheSlytherinGentleman is one of the biggest Harry Potter fanfiction accounts on AO3 right now

His room smells like tea and regret, because he opted for a four person dorm and now he’s living with Francis, Antonio and Gilbert for the next two years

Argues that his half brother Alfred’s GPA is higher than his because “Literary arts is subjective”

France/Francis Bonnefoy:

Film student

Francis’s favourite past time is renting out old movies and watching it on the library’s old VCR. Netflix just doesn’t have that same a e s t h e t i c

Among the four of them in the same dorm, he is the only one with a skincare routine and a 10pm bedtime

The mom friend of the house. He’s the one to call for hangover remedies (Antonio), or if something gets broken (Gilbert), or if something’s on fire (Arthur)

Resident heartthrob. Receives the most amount of chocolates and gifts every Valentine’s Day, and is always happy to share

Francis, Gilbert and Antonio have a “bully Arthur day” every year to commemorate the day Arthur moved in with them. It’s Francis’ favourite day of the year (apart from Christmas)

Goes all out on decorations for Christmas. The whole dorm is like a palace once he’s done with it

China/Yao Wang:

Business student, though everyone says he should’ve taken culinary instead (jokes on them, he’s starting his own restaurant empire after college)

Yao’s stuffed toys take up 80% of his bed space

Irregular sleeper, and wakes up at really odd hours of the night. There’s nothing to do until daybreak and it’s hard to fall back asleep, so he just wanders aimlessly around his dorm and scares the living hell out of Ivan from time to time

Listens to music at max volume. Likes to start his day with aggressive death metal in order to help himself stay awake for morning classes

He destresses by cooking. There’s always tupperware boxes of fried rice/egg noodles stacked in the dorm kitchens during exam season

Always has backache. He claims that the chairs in the lecture halls suck, but his kid brother Leon tells him that he’s just an old man with back problems

Russia/Ivan Braginsky:

Medical student, but doesn’t look like it

Ivan keeps really gross photos in his phone to help him reference back to the stuff he’s learning in class, and it tends to scare unsuspecting friends

Has so many stories from his time as a hospital intern. It grosses people out, that’s why he loves to tell them

“Did I tell you about the time I had to help sew a man’s fingers back one by one after his hand was crushed by a steamroller”

Likes the sun, but doesn’t really like sports. He’s the medic for a bunch of sports teams, and he likes to sit and watch the games

There’s also never a week that goes by where Alfred doesn’t get hurt. Seriously, can that Jones kid chill?

Roomies with Yao. They’re the most functional room in the entire campus. No noise complaints, no dirty dishes, no undone laundry, and they PRIDE themselves on it

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #aph #hws #kay writes #shut up kay #aph italy #aph germany #aph japan #aph america #aph england #aph france #aph china #aph russia #aph romano #aph spain #aph prussia #aph hong kong #feliciano vargas #ludwig beilschmidt #kiku honda #alfred f jones #arthur kirkland #francis bonnefoy #yao wang #ivan braginsky #lovino vargas #gilbert beilschmidt #leon wang #antonio fernandez carriedo

[oddlovergirl]

Leone Abbacchio Headcanons

Alright, here are my headcanons on this bitter, cynical ex-poliziotto turned gangster with a hidden heart of copper-gold, Leone Abbacchio!

WARNING: There ARE mentions of mental disorders as well as alcohol, and a prank involving urine. Please proceed with caution if you have been struggling with mental disorders and/or alcoholism and/or easily disgusted by the toilet humor.

-           Leone was actually quite a cheerful lad back then. A social butterfly, even. In his late teens, he is rather affable and polite. This makes his emotional transition to an aloof, moody goth from his corroded idealism and partner’s death all the more jarring to those who used to know him back from childhood and high school.

-           He used to be in Boy Scout.

-           He came from a normal and functional family, mainly consisting of father Giustino (Italian variant of Justin), mother Rachele (Italian variant of Rachel, which means “ewe”), and younger brother Cosimo (Italian form of the Greek name Cosmas meaning “order”).

-           His dad is a retired police officer who believed in justice. His father’s idealistic tales are what inspired Leone to wanting to become a cop in the first place. The reason Leone is able to become a police officer at age 18 is because his father had trained him throughout his school years. To say that Leone and his father were unprepared for the contradictions and rampant corruption in the police force would be a massive understatement, especially for Giustino who discovered that morality has severely declined in the police force in recent years. When Leone’s bribe and the consequences it followed (including the death of Leone’s partner who I should name Sergio) came to light, the two became very distant, with guilt overwhelming on both sides (Leone for letting his father down, and Giustino for letting his son walk down a path of self-destruction).

-           Since it’s said in his manga profile that his favorite music is Monteverdi’s Vespro Della Beata Vergine, I think Leone is surprisingly a fan of hymn music. I imagine that he used to be a church-goer like his family and attend his younger brother Cosimo’s choir practice.

-           He actually dyed his hair silvery violet. His real hair color is dark gray. It’s pretty much the reason his hair color and eyebrow color don’t match.

-           Unsurprisingly has both depression and PTSD. He might as well have a sleep paralysis demon too. Thankfully, his strong support group and other healthy methods can help him cope.

-           After he joined Bruno’s team, Leone had begun to work on moderating his drinking. He had initial difficulty moderating his alcohol usage, but he’s doing well with Bruno’s help.

-           Considering that he had a happy, functional life until his career in the police force had gone to shit, after he became estranged from his family, Leone had afforded a house he can live in and has decent domestic skills.

-           Something tells me that Giorno is not the first person who Leone pulled a “cup o’ piss” hazing prank on. Back when he was in the police force, Leone had three encounters with Guido Mista who kept either getting into fights with people for insulting movie actors or getting his ass whooped by the people he fought with earlier. Later, when he and the gang encountered Mista in Libeccio with Bruno and Leone recognized him, his first internal thought is “oh fuck no, not that guy again”.  When Mista completed his lighter test and joined the gang, Leone offers him a glass cup full of “lemonade” as a prank. Guido accepts the “lemonade” and unwisely gulps it down before doing a disgusted spit take, right onto Leone and saying that his “lemonade” tasted like piss. Narancia and Fugo witnessed Guido doing a spit-take on Leone and saying these exact words, and needless to say, Narancia was laughing his ass off while Fugo is desperately trying to keep a straight face but failed to contain his laughter. Bruno is NOT amused by the incident and takes Leone up to task for pranking the newcomer (and maybe Narancia and Fugo too for laughing at the incident). Leone takes being the receiving end of a piss spit-take to be well-deserved payback.

#jojo #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo golden wind #jojo vento aureo #vento aureo #golden wind #jjba vento aureo #jjba golden wind #jjba #jjba part 5 #jojo part 5 #leone abbacchio #jjba headcanons #jojo headcanons #cw mental illness #cw alcohol mention

[ashenburst]

Next To Me

Abbacchio x Reader, fluff? Just some funny stuff going on. Having a crush SUCKS but it’s also the best thing ever, and you’re struggling exactly with that - a blatant crush. 2771 words.

Have fun because I have so much more angst in mind.

With Fugo and Buccellati gone on a mission, no actual authority was left at the table. And yet, nothing out of the ordinary happened – it was unusually peaceful, even. Narancia was on your right, Mista on your left, Abbacchio in front of you, and it seemed as if nothing could disturb this atypical formation and the peace it brought.

Truth be told, with no Fugo to keep Narancia in check, the boy was elated. He told Narancia to read a lesson from some book. As expected, as soon as Fugo left, Narancia put a comic inside the book and began “reading”. You were sure that this wouldn’t end up well – but advising Narancia against it would do more harm than good, so you didn’t do a thing about it. Instead, you participated in whatever it was that Narancia wanted to retell you from the comic.

Mista had no encounters with the number four to unsettle him, which was a pleasant addition to the already calm atmosphere. Abbacchio, on the other hand…

What oddly irritated you was the fact that Abbacchio was silent all the while. You’d been chatting with Mista and Narancia for quite some time now, but this man hadn’t voiced himself not once. His presence was only physical, his mind certainly was absent; with his headphones on, he must’ve completely isolated himself. Not that you minded, you truly didn’t mean to bother him, but…

"Hmm, Narancia," you mumbled, staring at Abbacchio.

"Yeah?"

"What kind of music is Abbacchio listening to?”

"Ehh... no idea." He shrugged.

"Why are you asking?" Mista joined the conversation, uninvited, as usual. You glanced over to him, somewhat reluctant to reply. The guy knew about your crush on Abbacchio, unlike Narancia, who was oblivious to your usual swooning.

"He's got his headphones on constantly. If he's that fond of music, why doesn't he talk about it more?"

But Mista offered a normal response. "Not everyone is like Narancia to yell about their favorite trash artist."

Narancia shouted, "Snoop Dog is a legend! Shut up!"

Mista chuckled. "Chill, it was a joke."

"Pfft. More like an insult. Not funny." Narancia buried his face into the comic. Despite that, Mista continued his rambling.

"You know what's funny?"

The boy lowered the book just a little, enough for his displeased stare to be seen. "What?"

"(Y/N)."

You jumped in your seat. "Huh?! Why now?”

He closed his eyes, nonchalantly explaining, "Well, as I recall, you have a crush – “

"Shut the fuck up,” you warned.

The gunslinger just loved to tease you about it. Once again, he was enjoying the role he’d assigned himself – and oh, was he invested. He swayed his arms backwards, exaggerating his emotions with a sorry pout. "Aw, so mean! Did I hit the wrong spot?"

The wrong spot? "As usual." You stared at him.

Luckily for you, Mista was a slow one. He lowered his arms, eyes squinted as he glared straight ahead. Your stern expression did not falter, time passed, and yet Mista failed to comprehend the burn. You couldn’t believe it took him so much. "Oh." Suddenly he was very riled up. "Oi! Watch your mouth!”

"Why, you too," you muttered, rolling your eyes at him. He was blabbering some nonsense which you chose to ignore. You merely averted your gaze in the opposite direction and crossed your arms. With a sigh, you wondered just how exactly your friendship reached this point. Constant bickering and roasting became a norm – and now, you couldn’t imagine it any different.

Although you willingly participated in these… playful fights, you had your measure. Much like this instance, sometimes Mista would aggravate you too much, and you decided to quit it for the time being. He could get so annoying.

But Narancia... not as often. He was laughing all the while, which you found pleasant in the situation. After all, it was Mista’s pathetic self that amused him – or so you hoped, at least.

“So (Y/N), if you're that interested, why don't you just ask him yourself?” The black-haired boy asked, setting down his “book”. You noticed the coy smile he carried. You did not like its possible meaning. Had Mista told him?

"Yeah, as if,” you replied dismissively.

"But you seem completely competent at carrying a conversation, (Y/N)," Mista commented and you turned around for a moment to dignify him with a curt reply.

"Not with you, Mista." You smiled and once again turned your back to the gunslinger.

"Anyway, as I was saying, what do you want me to do?" You puffed your chest out, making Narancia giggle. "Hey Abbacchio, what in the name of –"

"What?"

The deep voice was instantly recognized. You clenched your jaw and forced yourself to look at Abbacchio. He’d removed his headphones, perhaps so as to hear you better. With his questioning gaze on you, you couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

It was Mista's turn to laugh. Narancia joined him. You almost felt betrayed.

Gathering what was left of your calm, you managed to utter a stammer-less sentence. "Were you listening?"

"No, I simply made out my name,” he said.

You were relieved. Moving on with the discussion, you spoke, “So, Narancia and I were wondering –”

"Wrong! You were wondering,” the boy corrected you to your utmost displeasure.

"Does it fucking matter?" You whispered to Narancia then turned back to Abbacchio. "I was wondering what music were you listening to. That's all."

He raised a brow. “You’re interested?”

“Yeah.”

“You probably haven’t heard of it, and it’s boring,” he explained, one hand on the headphone, ready to put it back.

"You wouldn't be listening to it all the time if it were boring," you replied bluntly.

Judging by the shift in his face, Abbacchio was slightly taken aback by your response. This caused you slight panic, so you immediately backed up your statement with, "Besides, I'm sure there's nothing like boring music. In matters of taste, there can be no disputes."

It was only after a short pause that he finally gave you the answer. "Monteverdi."

Narancia had to share his uncanny knowledge on that matter."Claudio Monteverdi, the Italian composer from the late Renaissance! He wrote operas, such as..."

Due to the fact he was yelling in your ear, you had to intervene. "Narancia –“

"Wait! I know! L'Orfeo! I knew it, right? Right, Abbacchio?" Narancia pointed at him.

"Correct." The white-haired male was surprised that Narancia knew, and Narancia was vastly proud of the fact as well. The only thing missing was Fugo to praise him.

"Classical music, huh? You never struck me as the type," Mista stated. Abbacchio barely shrugged to that.

"That's cool though," you blurted out, earning a stifled laugh from Mista. Just like before, Abbacchio showed little to no interest in the commentary. Since nobody else was willing to continue the conversation, and you were slightly… at a loss of words, Abbacchio once again put his headphones on. You bit your tongue. If only Narancia and Mista weren’t there to trip the dialogue, maybe you could’ve actually said something. Nevertheless, alone or not, you found it exceptionally hard to talk to your crush, due to the very fact he was that: your crush.

You hummed, placing your elbows on the table and staring at Abbacchio. He already had his eyes shut, as he was enjoying some Monteverdi’s masterpiece, utterly isolated from everyone else at the table. You almost envied him.

Actually, you did envy. Someone stepped on your foot. You glared at the only person who could've done it. Mista.

"The fuck,” you wheezed, grabbing him by the collar. “What’s wrong with you?”

His eyes widened as he whispered in response, "Are you freaking dumb?"

"No, but you are,” you automatically replied and let go of him.

"Buccellati would've killed you if he were here,” Narancia added loudly.

Mista acknowledged Narancia's statement with a furrow of his brows. Then, he lowered his head, his attention back on you.

"Jokes aside," he continued, hushing his voice to the very brink of your earshot, "you're unbelievable. You can't handle one conversation with him."

"Eh, no? I just don't wanna annoy him.”

"Keep telling that to yourself and someday, someone else is going to snatch him right before your eyes." Mista made grabbing gestures with his hands, making you back away. A bit too much, apparently, because Narancia pushed you.

"You almost spilled my juice!"

"Scusi, Narancia, I didn't mean to," you immediately apologized, making him huff and look away. You sighed and turned towards the gunslinger.

Mista tilted his head. "So?"

"Let me tell you what I think. I think you're just trying to make me embarrass myself in front of him,” you explained.

"No! I'd never!" Mista placed a hand on his chest, dramatically exclaiming, "I'm your best friend after all! I wish only the bestest of the best for you!"

"Sucks having a bestie like you," you murmured. Due to the fact your “bestie” yelled abruptly, Abbacchio glared at the two of you. You noticed this in the corner of your eye and gulped. "Anyway... I uh, I guess you're right,” you added, glancing back to Mista.

"That's the right attitude! Go get him!" He pumped his fist in the air.

“Could you please quiet down?” You asked him and chuckled awkwardly. “I appreciate your support and everything, but it’s just that… this discussion shouldn’t really be heard.” You looked over to Abbacchio, fearing he could’ve discerned something.

“Oh, of course, (Y/N), of course! But the fact still stands: if you don’t talk to him, you won’t achieve anything. Besides, don’t you think it’d be easier if he accidentally found out? You’d be relieved, wouldn’t you? And I’d stop teasing you. Perfect, right?”

Not perfect at all. Just the thought of you confessing to Abbacchio forced heat into your face. Mista caught this momentary embarrassment of yours; he leaned in and you once again backed away, thus provoking Narancia all over again.

“What the fuck are you two doing?!”

You were lucky you didn’t get a knife in your chest, because Narancia was holding one. You jumped on your feet.

“Blame it on Mista’s lack of respect for private space!” You pointed at Mista.

He let out an “eh” before retorting, “Blame it on (Y/N)’s inability to handle constructive criticism!”

“Blame it on Mista’s stench!”

“What the fuck?!” He threw his hands in the air.

That was when you noticed Fugo coming back, without Buccellati. Poor him, he was absolutely clueless – and he bore a confused expression accordingly.

“Hello there! You’re back so fast, I reckon the mission went well,” you greeted with a smile. Fugo reciprocated it.

“Yeah, it was a breeze. I wouldn’t even call it a mission, it was more of a… mail delivery. Buccellati was genuinely confused in the end as well,” he explained, waving his hand.

“Weird,” Mista murmured.

“Where’s Buccellati?” Abbacchio asked.

“He’s talking to the owner of the ristorante. Also, if I may ask, Mista’s stench is to be blamed for what exactly?” Fugo’s question was so innocent, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“The usual shenanigans, nothing special,” you answered truthfully. Fugo nodded in understanding and neared the table.

“Ah, Narancia, I’m glad you were…” He paused, stopping next to Narancia’s seat. Narancia stared at him, and Fugo stared back. You, being the one next to Fugo, noticed where his focus landed – it was the book wherein the comic laid, and Narancia left it wide open on the table. You weren’t looking forward to the consequences.

Indeed, Fugo’s rage took over. One of the many questions that followed being, “Do you think I’m retarded?!”

You didn’t want to be anywhere near the impending doom, so you quickly strode towards Abbacchio’s side of the table and sat next to him.

Mista too skillfully moved away, and even took an unbothered sip of his tea. Above the cup, his dark eyes found their focus on you. You were sure you spotted amusement hiding behind those thick lashes; it was an unnecessary pressure adding onto the already not so ideal situation.

Now, seating yourself next to Abbacchio was a difficult feat on its own. To strike a conversation, that was almost impossible. Your mind ran rampant, looking for excuses to start one. He mentioned Monteverdi, he liked classical music – you had some knowledge on that matter, so you could actually talk about it… no. If you knew something, Abbacchio certainly knew more – he must’ve loved classical music, and you were no fanatic of it. He was one… perhaps? God, you were so unsure.

You swallowed a lump that gathered in your throat. If you thought you were an amateur in that area, why not present yourself as one?

“Hey, Abbacchio?”

“Hm?”

Good, he was listening. You took a deep breath before moving on.

“Concerning what we talked about earlier… I… really don’t think I’ve ever listened to Monteverdi,” you mumbled, watching as Fugo criticized Narancia and threatened to smack him with the book.

“Would you like to?”

Was he offering you to listen to it? You couldn’t allow yourself to hope so; nevertheless, you’d give it a try. You looked at Abbacchio, only to see that he too was occupied with observing the fight.

“Why not. I like classical music, so…” You fell silent, knowing you’d start oversharing – and you absolutely did not want to bore him. Having heard your response, Abbacchio lifted his hands from his chest where he had kept them crossed. Thus, the most peculiar sight blessed your eyes: he was removing his headphones. You were struck with ecstatic disbelief.

He handed them over to you, he did, and you took them, fingers wrapping around them as if they were the most fragile object to be forged on this world. You put them on your head, already hearing whispers of that opera Abbacchio was indulging in – and once you finally moved them into their place, once your ears were comfortable, you knew you were in for a surprise.

Your expectations, no matter their wavering height, turned out to be shamefully low. Angelic was the tune, timid and yet – captivating. It was no prideful, vehement opera you were listening to, no. It was a choir that sung with harmony, softly, with rises and falls all tender, accompanied by an organ that not once stood out. The kind of music you would easily dub a lullaby.

It was so delicate, so fine. Voices cascading into each other in waterfalls of arias. Masterfully crafted to form this otherworldly experience. You were shocked beyond measure.

You couldn’t believe this stoic man was listening to such music. You allowed yourself a shy peek towards him, and were rewarded with an encouraging fact: he was watching you, attentive, wanting to know how you would react to his music, to his interest. He cared, and the voices in your ear grew louder along with your humble realization.

As soon as your eyes locked, he, just like you, looked away. You were unsure if he were smiling, but you knew you were.

In front of you, Narancia’s juice was already spilled, and the comic was ripped into bits. The book was left unscathed, but Narancia wasn’t. Fugo hit him in the head with it, asking him – if you heard that well – if knowledge would transfer to him that way. Creative. All of this was happening as many voices gently hummed against your eardrums.

“Listening to a choir while Fugo beats the shit out of Narancia is quite… the experience,” you pointed out, your tone barely audible.

Abbacchio actually let out a laugh. He even asked, “You like it?”

“Absolutely,” you whispered, awe-stuck. You turned to him once more, and allowed a grin to appear on your face.

“Your taste in music is incredible,” you told him. His lips parted in surprise, but quickly formed a placid smile.

The choir quieted just in the moment for Abbacchio to be heard distinctly. “Thank you,” he mumbled with a softness unusual to him. You merely nodded – you were too satisfied to say anything.

At that exact moment, Buccellati returned with words of discord. “You’re going to ruin the ristorante at this pace! Look at this mess!”

As the only valid authority in this group, Buccellati managed to elicit apologies all around. He shook his head, still disapproving as he sat down. He straightened his suit and looked up, scanning the tainted tablecloth and the ripped pages of the former comic. And yet, pleasant surprise washed over his face as soon as he spotted you with Abbacchio. The smile he gave you could only be described as encouraging.

#abbacchio x reader #abbacchio leone #abbacchio #abbacchio headcanon #abbacchio headcanons #abbacchio leone x reader #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #vento aureo #jojo part 5 #guido mista is your bestie i don't make the rules #mista best bro #mista worst bro #mista #HAHAHAH #dialogue heavy #that's MY style and I will abuse it

[vasiliquemort]

Hello it's the anon who sent the ask about Tizian again! I just saw this post right before I was about to go to bed and I'm so blown away by all the thought that you put into your answer! Thank you so much for taking all this care in responding and I'm very glad that my ask helped you feel better! The artwork is beautiful~ oh, and I forgot to say last time, the soundtrack for the game is also incredible, it's got such perfect vibes! I hope you have a wonderful day and thank you again!

You are absolutely, delightfully welcome, I am so glad that you liked it;***

Thank you very much for writing to me, your words gifted me such a joy and inspiration~ Ah, and I don't think I mentioned the names of the pieces correctly, but it might be nice if I can help find them in some case and tell about them a little. Partly because I just really, really love them;ззз

The theme from the prologue, as well as the personal theme of Charet - Lamento Della Ninfa by Monteverdi, performed by Figueras.  This is the very first song that I decided to add, I have a little personal history with it. Ane Brun has an amazing English version, I listened to it when I wrote the last dialogue with Charet. It's a melancholy and tenderly aching song, and very sensual and darkly passionate at the same time - and the solo vocals made it more personal and intimate, I would really recommend taking a look at it;зз

Menu screen music and Titian's/Cybele personal theme - Nocturne in C Sharp Minor (No. 20) by Shopin.  There is a special passion in it, and a gentle melancholy, but the rumbling of the cello is imperious, gloom and deceptively, crushingly soft, like the sorcerer himself. The composition is both strict and changeable, and gives such a pleasant languor in the chest for me;зз  (Partly, in fact, I was thinking about a heavier and more belligerent theme for him - something from Dvorak, like Symphony No 9)

Holt's theme is Miserna Chiha, just a gentle and soft Polish carol, there are many options with vocals and instrumental arrangements, but I was looking for something simple that would give relief from the serpentine heaviness and at the same time feel personal, light and tender.

After the first vocal theme changed to piano, I was looking for a song for a long time that would be subtle and personal enough for Margot, but supported the previous one. Green Sleeves were both simple and noble, gothic and sophistication are so tender and sensual, and dark at the same time in my eyes.

I had a lot of other compositions on my mind - and a huge amount of Vivaldi’s vocal pieces were a special inspiration. I will love them endlessly and forever, and each of them is very special - "Vedro con mio diletto" was chosen for the first appearance in the house of Nimrode, "Cessate, omai cessate" belongs to the white feast. They are capricious and graceful, partly gloomy and infinitely sophisticated, and each of them gives birth to a small story by itself.

[mirekat]

All right, I’ve been sort-of tagged in this post twice now (directly by @left-trek and implicitly by @little-brisk, thanks to you both!) so let’s do this:

1. Name/nickname: Adrian/there are no good nicknames for Adrian

2. Gender:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ is the short answer

3. Star sign: Google tells me I’m still a Libra

4. Height: 5′8″

5. Time: 8:26am

6. Birthday: 24 September

7. Favorite bands: I cannot concentrate on more than one thing at once, so I listen to way less music than most people and am defensive about it. Also my taste in bands is incoherent. The Mountain Goats, obviously. The Magnetic Fields. I am contractually obligated to like Against Me! Korpiklaani, Eluveitie, other geeky folk and symphonic metal outfits. Erstwhile alt-hip hop duo The Blue Scholars. Every so often I get into a Fleetwood Mac loop and listen to nothing but Rumours nonstop for a week. Whatever, I contain multitudes.

8. Favorite solo artists: Ok, this one is way too hard to winnow down. When I was a teen I decided to pledge myself to a local diva like some 19th c gay aesthete; does that count? That diva is Talise Trevigne, whose career I have faithfully followed from the cardboard sets of the SF Lyric Opera to the Grammies. I was insufferable as a teen and I SHOULD be bullied for it but she’s real good.

9. Song stuck in my head: I was debating how to classify Deltron 3030 so now I have the hook from "3030″ locked in for the rest of the day.

10. Last movie I watched: Star Wars I think.

11. Last show I watched: Star Trek: Enterprise, as many of you will know from my regular practice of dunking on it.

12. When did I create this blog: October 2020

13. What I post: Star Trek, other space shows, academia, birds, my feelings, my cat

14. Last thing I googled: “[University redacted] Library late returns” lol

15. Other blogs: a long-defunct trans history blog

16. Do I get asks: none yet

17. Why I chose my URL: to match my AO3 URL

18. Following: 36. I tried following more but quickly got overwhelmed.

19. Followers: 43. 

20. Average hours of sleep: 7.5 under non-manic or depressed conditions

21. Lucky number: I actually haven’t ever thought about this. 

22. Instruments: I’m a choirboy, so my voice mostly. Piano, ukulele, baritone sax, several gamelan instruments to varying degrees of competence.

23. What I’m wearing: jeans, plain black tee, a layer of cat hair.

24. Dream job: Trans Karl Marx

25. Dream trip: Anywhere outside a 5K radius of my apartment really. But beyond that, going back to London or Singapore--partly to see all the friends I haven’t seen in a year or more, partly, uh, to go to the archives. I really, really miss archives.

26. Favorite food: garlic

27. Nationality: American, hopefully not forever

28. Favorite song: this is impossible but if I had to listen to only one song for the rest of forever I guess Monteverdi’s madrigal arrangement of ‘Lasciatemi Morire’ bc it’s lovely and I am early modern emo trash.

29. Last book I read: Last book I finished was a reread of To the Lighthouse, which staggered me afresh after so many years. Now I’m midway through Yaa Gyasi’s Transcendent Kingdom. It’s very different from her last book, less linear, with a neuroscientist narrator whose attention to detail is alternately clinical and lyrical but always strikingly precise. A distancing effect that feels both true to the character and helpful in giving a framework for all the narrator’s wrestling with: basically, figuring out how to exist in the face of mental illness and her family’s fragility and American racism and a fundamentalist Christianity that no longer works for her and an academic rationalism that also doesn’t work. It’s a lot to balance and I’m waiting to see how Gyasi wraps it up but it’s been compelling so far. 

30. Top 3 fictional universes I’d like to live in: Right now the only ones I can think of are Star Trek--albeit on a planet, not in Starfleet--and Ian M. Banks’s The Culture--albeit like, living on a chill orbital with no job, not in Special Circumstances. Send me to the parts of the utopia we never see because nothing ever happens there.

Honestly I don’t know if I even have 20 mutuals who haven’t already seen this and/or filled it out, and tagging gives me serious social anxiety. So I’m just going to say: if any of my mutuals sees this and feels like filling it out, I’d love to know more about you! Consider yourselves tagged!

#about me #tag meme

[occlusivavelare]

A not remotely exhaustive list of Italian love songs that makes me think about Yusuf & Nicolò

For @lucyclairedelune who asked me. I hope you’ll like this list!  ❤

I don't know how you can put things under a link on Tumblr, so bear with me.

Franco Battiato, everything ever IMO, but especially "La Cura" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fpKgu6yp3o) "Tutto L'Universo Obbedisce all'Amore" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0ZdZ8e6Qyk) and "L'Ombra della Luce" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8jo7DBxaos) which he sang in Arab too, in a famous concert in Baghdad in 1992 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wIle3DePsYk).

Lorenzo Jovanotti Cherubini, "Stella Cometa" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbiuAfnzukE) again with an Arab version sung by Nabil Salameh (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgSihu2QsSU)

Niccolò Fabi, "Costruire" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhH0X7RtZyM) It's about the fact that when you imagine a joy, you think about beginnings but in the end the good and everlasting things are the one you build over time. It's the established relationship feels, you know?

Mia Martini, "Almeno Tu nell'Universo" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yK3AHqzEi10) My mom ADORES this song and it's so overwhelmingly heartbreaking in its prayer for the beloved man to be true, to love the singer forever and ever, to be "the only one in the universe/ like a sun shining just for me". Nicolò to Yusuf, right? And viceversa.

Lucio Battisti, "Io vorrei, non vorrei ... ma se vuoi" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBFpmkhLjMQ) I had to include Battisti because his love songs break my heart. It's all about the yearning, “how can a rock steam the sea”, you know what he means?

Mina, “Il Cielo in una Stanza” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11mejVpT6Yg) “When you are with me this room has no walls”

Fabrizio De André, “Carlo Martello” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B963xRbSMuI) De André is a genovese songwriter, one of the most important and influential in the history of Italian pop music. Even though he wrote beautiful and heartbreaking love songs, I'm choosing this one because it's pure genius and cracks me up every time. It's about the Frankish king Charles Martel, coming home after the battle, and instead of being celebrated as the great conquerer or whatever, the song portrays him as an ugly man who only has one goal (He wants to fuck) and he's even rude to the prostitute who ultimately fulfill his wish and refuses to pay her. During the Middle Ages, Nicolò and Yusuf would have learned so many salacious songs like this one!

Roberto Vecchioni, “L'Ultimo Spettacolo” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQxq1pJrksw) Perhaps not really a Yusuf/Nicolò song? It has a Greek mythology feel about it - Vecchioni is a classics professor, he teaches Latin and Greek. This knowledge is reflected in the song: "Ascolta, ero partito per cantare uomini grandi dietro grandi scudi/ E ho visto uomini piccoli ammazzare/ piccoli, goffi, disperati e nudi" (Listen, I went away to sing about great men behind great shields and I've seen small men kill/ small, clumsy, desperate and naked) It's about the horror of war: how it is sung as something beautiful in the epic songs, but then you realise that reality is another thing altogether. I think this would be accurate to what Yusuf and Nicolò would have experienced during the First Crusade, especially Nicolò: he was told that he was "freeing" the Holy Land and then the reality was completely different and horrifying. Moral of the story, never trust war propaganda. So, I will allow this song in the mix because it's kind of on point, because I believe that Lucy could appreciate the Epic Greek Feel of it and because it's one of the most beautiful Italian songs of all the time and, certainly, one of my all time favorites.

And, finally, since I was exposed to La Gerusalemme Liberata by Torquato Tasso and the tragic romance between Clorinda and Tacredi messed up my brain during my formative years and it's my archetype for the Nicky/Joe shipping, here it is: Monteverdi, "The Fight between Tancredi and Clorinda" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6qkZxGhEzXE

Thank you for your attention! 

#italian music #immortal husbands #nicolò di genova #yusuf al kaysani #the old guard

[docholligay]

Requiem for the Grand Consummation

Angstober prompt was: Michiru, breakdown 1900 words, and I hope you....uh, enjoy it? In as much as anyone enjoys Angstober? 

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. It matters little what you feel.The flame might tear and burn, the steam might hiss, but you are a creature of the coldest sea, and to all appearances, you will only ever be calm and shimmering. She had been trained in all of this since she was a young child, the subtle art of composure. 

To compose oneself. She thought of it often, this turn of phrase, this way of putting a smooth coat on the roughness of mortal feelings. One composed a symphony as well, and she could not note that it was too terribly different. The art of taking inelegant bursts of air and furious strokes of string on string, and turning them into something beautiful. Something calming, and erudite, inviting commentary on the art. Perhaps not all people made symphonies of their own emotions, but Michiru Kaioh would note that she was an artist in all things, and perhaps her earliest lesson was in this. 

So Michiru Kaioh dressed in her neat couture, and sat straight as she sipped at champagne in the tea lounges of the upper class, and accepted condolences with that same cool, impersonal affect with which it was given. She composed, and the orchestra played on, and no one could have possibly noted that the young widow was anything other than a perfect example of the stiffly pressed perfection and breeding of the upper classes. 

A sheet of ice covered the sea, and it shimmered and sparkled and did not waver or buckle as the waves churned beneath it. 

But ice can only ever be cold, and be taken as such, whatever may lie beneath, and one can hardly blame those unfamiliar with the sea for seeing little else. 

“Oh, like Michiru even fuckin’ cares.” Mina swigged back a beer, despite being in the middle of what was, ostensibly, a senshi meeting, “since when has she ever kept anything from last season, you know?” 

Mako shrugged and nodded along with Mina, the two guards, one of them telling the truth, and one lying, and both blocking Michiru from a calm exit of the conversation. 

“We need a new Sailor Uranus.” Mako added, though not unkindly. 

The gentleness was meant less for Michiru and more for Usagi, who wailed in protest. 

“We can’t! We can’t let someone else wear her tiara, because, because--” she let out a sniffle and a small sob, “--they won’t be her!!” 

“Indeed,” Michiru added, almost a whisper to herself, “who could be?” 

Rei drew her arms around Usagi. “She wouldn’t be, Usagi.” She kissed Usagi’s temple, “But she’ll be a different Sailor Uranus. But she won’t replace Haruka.” 

Ami touched Usagi’s arm. “Whoever it is already has been given the power. She’s probably scared, Usagi. We can help her. We can teach her.” 

Michiru folded her hands in her lap, and composed herself. Twist the brass into submission. Quell the drums. The strings do not shriek, but sing, in your hands. She softened her eyes and relaxed her face, and her shoulders fell straight and sleek under her silk blouse. 

“So we don’t have a choice anyway.” Mina poured the beer down her throat and crunched the can, “We get to her or the enemy does. Sailor Uranus is dead,” a violin string snapped, “long live Sailor Uranus.” 

Usagi nodded, sobbing into Rei’s shoulder, and Mako rubbed her on the back as the silence settled in, rain falling in the background as the cool wet air sneaked in the cracks old and new, whispering in small holes in sweaters, aching through slender gaps of clothing. 

Michiru rose to her feet, and smoothed her linen skirt. 

“Well, then, it seems decided,” She took her purse from the table, “Pluto, I assume you will have little trouble locating this person, given your affinity with the power of the moon. You certainly located us easily enough.” She nodded to Mina. “If there’s no further business, madame chairman.” 

“Go on,” she shrugged, “be my fucking guest.” 

Michiru did not allow herself to crescendo to Mina’s anger, simply walked to the door where her umbrella sat waiting, the fine leather of her Italian made shoes spattered so lightly with the rain’s cruelties that you would be forgiven for not noticing them. Fine leather blends well. 

She opened the door, only for a small, insistent hand to close it in her face. She did not turn her head, for there was no need, only that same discordant note wishing to throw off all symphonies as she herself had been. 

“I confess the vagaries of being your guest do somewhat bewilder me.” She shook off her umbrella. “May I help you?” 

Mina took her hand away from the door, her eyes never leaving Michiru’s face. 

“You’re so hollow inside, I wonder if her scream’s still echoing there, or if you just...absorbed it.” MIna shook her head, and their eyes met, “Did you ever love her?” 

“You are a cruel person, at heart, Minako Aino. But I suspect you know that.” She opened the door and her umbrella both, in one fluid motion, “Haruka’s taste was always a bit self-flagellating, wasn’t it? Choosing us.” She stepped out into the rain. “Not all of us are so prone to drunken dramatics.” 

“Fucking leave, Michiru.” 

“Oh, are we precisely certain I have your leave?” 

MIna slapped the door in her face, but Michiru did not justify the cymbal crash with so much as the raise of an eyebrow. 

It took her longer than she might have expected to return to that yawning condo in a sparkling building, the rain settling on the windows in a single sheet, beginning to freeze until it weighed to heavy before dramatically cracking and falling to the ground. 

Her apartment was the same as it ever had been, neatly appointed, and her girl had left a bottle of champagne and a plate of olives and cheese in the fridge, as requested. They said good help was hard to find, but Michiru did not agree with this assessment. Good help was very easy to find, so long as one’s wallet was sufficiently open. 

She popped the bottle with its percussive note, the bubbles rising to the surface of the glass in their high accenting chirps. When had she changed into her robe and gown? She couldn’t remember, but it hardly mattered. It was perfectly acceptable for a woman alone in her apartment to lounge a bit in the evening. 

The glasses went down fast, tonight. Mina had not been wrong to say that she was hollow, for no matter how much she drank, Michiru could not fill that deep, dry well inside of her. Or maybe it had always been full, but full only of the sea, bitter and cold, withering everything that drank it. 

MIna had been right about another thing. She was cruel and a liar, but she hadn’t lied then. That well inside her heard the screams, and it echoed high above the elegiac symphony of her own heart and soul, far beyond taming. It dulled the song and it slipped under the ice, and it screamed and screamed and screamed. 

She staggered to her feet. She was conducting, but the players were beginning to falter, playing their own tunes, Mozart against Tchaikovsky, Salieri coming through the back, a note of Monteverdi, the piano player hammering out Chopin’s softness with an indelicate rage. It was too loud for the small apartment, the clashes and bangs of instruments no longer obeying that leader. What a fool she ever was to believe that she could have brought them to heel with a small stick! 

No one had asked the conductor how she tired, how rebellious the woodwinds, how obstinate the percussion, and how difficult it could possibly be to coordinate it all on a bucking sheet of ice. And who could blame them? They had not seen the difficulty, for Michiru never allowed this to be difficult. It was her own perfection that led to this grand revolution, every carefully chosen note deciding its own fate in this moment, in an apartment which once held something killed by cold, a daisy in December. 

Michiru flung wide the doorway to that elegant balcony, the lines of song which had been straight and true twisting themselves into the wrought iron, mocking her composition. Her composure. She stared at them, glass still in her hand, and they rocked and moved and then they were the waves of the sea, clashing against that ice as the rain fell around her. It built and built and it broke, for how could it not break when there was so much underneath it. The wind rose and whipped under that sheet of ice, and Michiru felt a great crack inside of her, a crack like an explosion. Oh, that great sea ice broke indeed, and it broke with the great thunder of bass and timpani, and the waves became a song again, and twisted, and the sea again, breaking, and then they were her face, her face twisted most of all in those final moments, and Michiru looked up to the sky and she cried out in the one and only vocal solo of her life, accompanied by the horrible orchestra of her own great creation. 

She stopped. Everything stopped. The strings grew still, and the sea ice drifted away, and it all simply stopped. 

Haruka called herself the senshi of the wind. It was silly, and it was a lie, but it was a lovely one, and in the years after she had fallen in love, she continued on with it in her teasing way, telling Michiru how the wind whispered she looked beautiful in that dress, or howled over the discontinuation of a candy bar. 

But she wasn’t lying, and she wasn’t joking, for Michiru could feel her, caressing her face, kissing her lips, brushing tenderly against her collarbone. Haruka had quieted it. She had always quieted it, for the wind was not the great enemy of the sea, but its partner, was it not? It is only the wind that allows the ocean to guide and to bring the world across it. The wind caresses the sea in love, and those are not waves of horror, but of delight. The screams all sound the same. 

Michiru took her glass, and drank deep of it, smiling brightly as she flung it over the side of the balcony, a high, bright note of an angel’s bell below. 

She rested a hand on that iron, and felt it lay still and freeze beneath her hand. The ice, returning. So heavy. Impossible to hold on a building like this one. But there was no need, the wind said to her, to hold it at all. Let the sea rage, and let the song die, and I will carry you in the great unwritten song of the wind. 

Her robe fluttered like a petal as she slipped a leg over that useless, ugly, arrogant iron. She held her hand out to the wind, the wind that came from the sea and still carried the water inside of it, and with a close of her eyes and the whisper of Haruka’s name, she released that flower into the wind. 

When they found her on the car in the misting rain, she was calm and shimmering. 

Just as she’d been taught. 

#Holligay Angstober

[supposed2bfunny]

Heck it! Vento Aureo Neuro-Divergent Headcanons!

Narancia

-Narancia has (undiagnosed) ADHD.

-And boy does he love to stim with his hands! Using his flick knife is his preferred method of keeping his hands busy, but that tapping he’s doing while listening to his boombox? Slappy time! 

-He also flaps when he gets served his favorite meal or a fancy dessert at restaurants with the gang.

-His feet are EXTREMELY restless and he has a tendency to kick his shoes on and off when he’s sitting around. This makes them a tad loose, which is why they always come flying off in battle.

-Surprisingly, Abbacchio is the most equipped to handle Narnacia’s energy and helps ground him with his Cool Goth Vibe.

-Abba and Nara paint their nails together sometimes when Narancia is feeling overwhelmed. Especially on rainy days when the sound of the rain puts him on edge.

-He’ll just start singing jingles from commercials at random, sometimes in the middle of a conversation. When they get in his head, he’s gotta let them out! In general, noises can be either a source of elation or anxiety for him.

-He’s often lost in his own thoughts so deep that when someone speaks to him, it can take a few seconds for him to process what’s just been said. 

-Sights, sounds, and smells all tend to overwhelm him, but touch is very soothing. Look how tight that shirt is; there’s a reason!

-Sometimes if he’s having a hard time, he’ll just ask for a bear-hug from Mista. The pressure helps him relax instantly. Since it took a long time for Narancia to work up the nerve to ask for a hug, he would at first just grab one of Mista’s arms and drape it around his shoulders, or even place one of his hands on his head. It didn’t take long for Mista to understand the wordless request for comfort.

Fugo

-Holy fuck words are hard for Fugo.

-Unless you ask him about something he’s passionate about. Then he will chat away and info-dump, his eyes light up and it’s one of the rare times you’ll see Fugo open up and look super happy.

-Since he has a hard time socially, he tries to use formalities to bridge the gap between himself and friends. Teaching math to Narancia? Formal, serves a functional purpose. A logical thing to do, really. Also means he gets to spend the afternoon with his friend :) He’s also always trying to take on extra tasks for Buccellati so he can be around him.

-He adores Buccellati, but Bucci tends to make a lot of intense eye contact, which always makes Fugo antsy because he hates eye contact. Thank god for Abbacchio, who will go on a mission with him and return to Naples without ever looking at his face. What a good friend!

-Yes, sometimes he practices speaking in front of a mirror, trying to keep his head high and make his cadence more like Buccellati’s. And what about it?

-Touch-averse to the extreme. Do not touch him. Please.

-Hands-down pickiest eater of the group because a lot of smells and textures freak him out. His sense of smell in particular is super strong. When in doubt, strawberries are always a good way to make him eat. He can devour those all day and never tire of them. He’s been known to just eat bread for lunch if the smell of his meal is Bad and puts him off.

-Also prone to stomach-aches from stress. His mind-body connection is VERY strong and his social anxiety informs how he feels. And since he’s anxious most of the time...:(

-His skin is so sensitive: his suits are made from super soft material and don’t have tags. His clothing budget is sky-high but he looks dope and he feels good!

-He tends to pick at his hair, so he has horrible split ends all the time.

-He’s probably the least likely one in the gang to self-sooth or practice self-care because he doesn’t feel he deserves to feel good. Thankfully, the rest of the gang feels quite differently and is slowly but surely memorizing everything they can do to make his life easier.

Mista

-He’s naturally extroverted and loves to be with friends, but he needs breaks to recharge frequently, which is why he always brings along books or magazines to read and have quiet time. If he doesn’t get a chance to decompress, he gets fidgety, overly chatty, and very unhappy. 

-Understanding what people are saying and interpreting other people’s feelings? Easy! Communicating back to people what’s on his own mind? Oof!

-Voice modulation? Lol never heard of her. Sometimes he’s just yelling instead of talking and that’s that on that.

-Despite the efforts he puts into being the “laid-back” type, he’s actually prone to anxiety attacks. Generally, he’s pretty helpless to communicate when he’s going into an attack, and doesn’t want to be seen as overly emotional or worse: a burden. So he tends to clam up until he reaches a breaking point. The only two people who can soothe him once he’s in the height of anxiety are Buccellati and, surprisingly, Fugo.

-His fear of the number four is 100% a self-imposed sort of order to help him feel he has control over some aspect of his life. Is that specific number linked to a childhood trauma? Probably! He’s not gonna talk about!

-Loves to eat, but he used to get distracted/lost in thought and skip meals chronically when he was younger. That’s why the Pistols are always begging for food at mealtimes. It gives him a routine.

-Executive dysnfucntion to the max.

-Hyper-empathic. Don’t let the tough demeanor fool you: he cries like every day, and adopts the vibe of whoever he’s with, which is again, why he gets overwhelmed and needs down time despite his love of socializing. 

-Zero spatial awareness. If there is something to bump into, he’s already bumped into it, knocked it over, tripped over it, or stepped on it. Half the time he’s hurt on missions, he’s the last one to notice.

Giorno

-Zero perception of personal space. Especially if he really likes you. (People are quick to assume he and Mista are a couple because his hands are always on him: it’s really just a security thing for Gio, nothing romantic intended).

-He also tends to get right up in your face if you’re having a one-on-one conversation. For the longest time, Fugo avoided talking with him alone cuz he Did Not Like the invasion of personal boundaries.

-He has a silly sense of humor, but his delivery is so flat people often can’t tell he’s joking, which leaves him feeling kinda :/

-Not good at reading people’s tones. If he has empirical evidence to glean something about someone (ie Buccellati’s hesitating to injure the drug addict teen in their first fight, which showed Giorno that he’s a kind and trustworthy man), then he’s confident. But he gets confused when he has to go off of facial cues and tone of voice alone. Those are way harder to understand for him!

-He’s constantly asking if his friends are upset with him because he can’t tell and he’s very anxious about that! At least Abbacchio is upfront about his feelings, even if he’s not too fond of Giorno. At least once a day you’ll hear a very polite “Hey, Narancia...I’m very sorry to trouble you, but you’re not mad at me, are you? No? Okay just checking...”

-Put Fugo and Giorno in a room together and get them talking about Roman history or biology and they will not shut up. They LOVE to info dump at one another!

-He had such a lonely childhood and he is hyper aware of how literal and overly formal he can be. He acts collected but he’s actually so self-conscious of it, and is terrified that the gang puts up with him because of his stand abilities, not because of who he is as a person.

-Soooo sensory-seeking. Please braid his hair! Go ahead! He would adore that!

-Has been known to summon Gold Experience just for a hug when he was really upset. These days Narancia and Mista try to be there for him instead.

-He has synesthesia all the time, which might be part of how he’s able to think so creatively when fighting other stand users. Sometimes on bad days, he’ll just communicate in colors instead of words, because it takes less energy.

-On one really bad day, Abbacchio asked why Giorno was showing Mista pictures of different gray skies in a book and not talking. Mista explained that those pictures were what was in Giorno’s head, that words were too heavy that day. After a moment’s thought, Abbacchio grabbed his headphones, set them on Giorno, and put on Monteverdi’s Symphony No. 3 in D Minor with the order “listen to that and tell me what you see.” Giorno searched through some of his books, then showed him a series of Monet’s water lillies. “That’s what I thought. Keep listening, punk. I’ll need the headphones back at the end of the day, or else you’re in for it.” Closest bonding experience they ever had.

At the moment I can’t think of anything for Abbacchio or Buccellati, but I’m happy to hear any other ideas people may have!

#long post #sorry holy moly this got long #jjba #vento aureo #giorno giovanna #pannacotta fugo #guido mista #narancia ghirga #vento aureo headcanons #I just...love them having their ways to stim and comfort one another ok

[wb-ivy]

An Incomplete History of Music

A/N: I wrote this about a year ago as a result of coming out as trans and being punished for it. Decided that for Trans Awareness Week I would share this with you. Stay Strong and Remember, YOU ARE VALID!!!

Masterlist

Choral music as we know it was first recorded around the beginning of the 10th century C.E. Although score sheets have been around for longer, the first piece of polyphony music was not actually discovered until December of 2014 by an intern at the British Library who was studying for his PhD at Cambridge University. He discovered the piece in the manuscript of Bishop Maternianus of Reims. Before going any further, it should be noted that polyphony music is music specifically written for several voice parts to perform at the same time. Since this only covers the history of polyphony choir music, solo opera pieces, songs written with only voice part but performed by a large group, and instrumental symphonies will not be discussed throughout the next ten pages. 

Choral music is believed to have originated from modern day Germany with only two parts before making its way to Western Europe where it becomes elaborated for eleven hundred years to become the intricate expressions we see in every school and church across the globe. Choral music became the main event in churches, right after the Lord, during the Medieval period. Although historians have known the significance of  group performances during the Middle Ages, no physical sheets of scores have yet to be discovered. 

During this time period, the most typical and popular piece of polyphony music was in the “organum” style. Pieces written in the organum style were performed with the accompaniment singing either above or below the melody, but they both sang the same tune. The most intriguing part about the birth of polyphony music is that historians originally thought it was developed using a set of strict rules that the composer had to follow. The discovery of this artifact, along with the organum style of music shows that the creator of choral music was breaking the rules of his own invention. These discoveries have helped to smash down old assumptions made based off of The Winchester Troper, the world’s second oldest choral music currently known.

The original was then discovered to not actually be written all at once. Experts believe that it was actually written in the early 10th century as a solo piece before adding on a seperate piece a few years later during the same century. This priceless work also shows that it was nearly the basis of experimentation to create an original work that harmonized several groups of singers all at once. It seemed that the composer had bigger visions to a multiple part song.

The middle ages was truly the start of choral music becoming popular inside the catholic walls. Although most of what we currently know about this music era is guess work, many groups specializing in medieval music prefer to use easily blended sounds without any vibrato. All musicians in this line of work will try to make their educated guesses of the original sound by comparing the music to other pieces found during that time alongside the renaissance pieces known by every singer, no matter their profession. During this time, although Catholic churches preferred to use instruments to help emphasize the vocal sounds, Jewish synagogues preferred to leave singers unaccompanied to show off the beauty of the choirs natural sounds. These types of a capella performances were known as Gregorian chants and differed greatly from street singing that was common in populated cities.

Street performances during the middle ages were normally made more attractive to make the performers more money by including intricate dances that followed the rhythm with their songs. These songs were almost always accompanied with smaller instruments such as flutes, but were normally a song that was written in only one part for several singers in unison. Synagogues preferred to use advanced harmonizing that was unaccompanied with music or dance because they believed that it distracted from the word of god. Synagogues also excluded women from performing in their ensembles, whereas street singing was a gender neutral activity.

Numerous examples can be seen throughout score sheets that Christian and Catholic choirs are heavily based on the hebraic performances that started in the Jewish community. Although the Catholic community mainly performed for much larger scaled gatherings of church goers once a week. They still shared the belief that music was meant to spread the psalms and proverbs to the masses.

During the Roman Catholic regime, singing saw a drastic change of its members. Beforehand, only priests and their congregations could sing the gospel, until a special group known as a choir was formed of talented members of the congregation to accompany and contrast the priest’s solos in order to make his voice stand out. Women had major roles in the start of official choirs until 578 when the Hebraic rule that didn’t allow female singers was reinstated in the Catholic church. It wasn’t until the 20th century that choirs weren’t made up of just men and young boys, when women’s rights were brought into the religious circle and helped regain female positions in the choir.

When the renaissance gave the average person more free time then their ancestors ever saw, choral music saw a boom in composition. This was the start of vocal music outwaying instrumental pieces in importance. Scores were written mainly in Latin, and composers were preoccupied by wanting the listeners to be awed by the music to actually worry about the harmonies. Choirs would consist with about three people for each section and with countertenors instead of altos, the higher of the four parts (soprano and countertenor) still consisted of young school boys instead of women. The renaissance period also tried to stay away from the vibratos used during the dark ages because they felt like it blurred the individuality of the voice parts and caused horrible blends of the melody.

During the renaissance period young boys were only able to perform high pitched parts until their voices cracked and they had to be moved to the lower sections (tenor and bass). Nowadays it would be impossible to find a male soprano to perform the complex and intricate music that rang throughout the Roman Empire. The reason choir directors could get away with boys singing intricate songs before puberty was because the average male didn’t hit puberty until the age of seventeen, much later than the current person hits puberty. The voice ages helped the choral industry stay male dominated and hindered the allowance of women in the chorus.

Strict rules had started to be imposed on composers during the renaissance in order to attract the most attendants to the church without straying too far from the words of God. Churches knew that if they didn’t allow the music to be brilliant and inspire the crowds that attendance at the services would drop, causing a decrease of funds they get from weekly offerings. On the other hand, churches were weary that if they music was too astounding that people would be too fixated on the sounds to get the message out of it that church wanted you to know. Composers during the time were seldom allowed to write about anything other than the gospel because there were few places other than the house of god for music to be performed. 

During the late sixteenth century, the Renaissance slowly slipped away and was replaced with the Baroque period. This Era saw the founding of concertato style, where a soloist or a quartet stood out and sang something different from the rest of the ensemble. The Baroque age also saw the sizes of choirs increase by tenfold and start to try to re-include instruments into its pieces. Some historians say that the Baroque period didn’t include anything new or special from choral pieces, but that it just simply continued top experiment and expand on the Renaissance’s most famous techniques. Though others argue that the Baroque age brought in a “new style” of music, such as the canata and the oratorio, which had never been used until then. Renaissance ideas that had started to fade out of fashion towards the end of the period saw itself newly revived and at the front and center of the Baroque period. An example of this included the use of several independent lines for vocal parts, which had become obsolete and had been replaced with a form of composing that where a single melody was performed vocally with a bass part performed by an instrument. 

Some of the most notable figures in the choral sphere of the Baroque period were Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643), Heinrich Schutz (1585-1672), and Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750). Claudio Monteverdi was most known for transitioning music from prima prattica to seconda prattica. Even to this day, three of his twelve most important pieces have been preserved and are frequently performed. Heinrich Schutz made musical history by writing the best pieces throughout all of Germany and varied his collections from passion to oriatos and motets. Johann Sebastian Bach is one of the most famous choral composers to this day. Being known for his music internationally,he produced over three hundred pieces of work during his lifetime. Bach was able to produce songs the artfully combined the most spectacular techniques from every type of music during the Baroque period. Not to mention, his music helped define choral pieces for centuries and for centuries more to come.

The classical age of music came right after the Baroque age with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart carrying most of the figurative choral weight upon his shoulders. The classical age had a major slow down of vocal pieces as composers started to experiment with the capabilities of instrumental music at its full capabilities. It was known as the classical age for attempting to revive the ancient Greek and Roman forms of fine arts and literature, which wasn’t very big on vocal music. The Classical age was famous for a Rococo style of music, which was light in nature, homophonic, and very elaborate compared to any other style of vocal performances. The Classic age was also heavily defined by its association with the church. Composer finally had the ability to write scores from a secular viewpoint with public concert halls being constructed for the first time. Choral music was finally allowed to be enjoyed by all no matter their beliefs or political views and actually became one of the most important parts of life for the socially elite in Europe.

Unlike every other musical time period, the Classical period only had three famous composers rather than several dozen of them. These three men were Wolfgang Amadeus (1756-1791), Frans Joseph Haydn (1732-1809), and Ludwig van Beethoven(1770-1827). Even though the popularity of vocal musicians increased, people like Mozart kept it alive with elaborate pieces that would have made the Fathers of choral music proud. Most of Mozart’s pieces were biblical and written to be performed at masses due to the fact that he was an archbishop. Some of his most famous works include Great Mass in C Minor, Coronation Mass in C Major, and Requiem Mass even though it had never been fully completed before Mozart’s death. Haydn was known for creating both The Creation and The Seasons after being a choirboy himself growing up until he was eight.

 “A Brief History Of Choral Music.” Calgary Children's Choir, 30 Mar. 2015, https://calgarychildrenschoir.com/a-brief-history-of-choral-music/.

Brown, Mayer, and Howard. “CHORAL MUSIC IN THE RENAISSANCE.” OUP Academic, Oxford University Press, 1 Apr. 1978, https://academic.oup.com/em/article-abstract/6/2/164/402312?redirectedFrom=PDF.

Foss, Lukas, and John Patrick Thomas. “The Middle Ages.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 8 Aug. 2011, https://www.britannica.com/art/musical-performance/The-Middle-Ages.

“Introduction To Renaissance Choral Music.” Choral Music In The Renaissance, http://dlib.info/home/braxton/.

Kozinn, Allan. “The Sound of the Middle Ages, Through Research and Intuition.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 4 May 1990, https://www.nytimes.com/1990/05/04/arts/the-sound-of-the-middle-ages-through-research-and-intuition.html.

Riley, Danny. “A Tour through the History of Choral Music.” By Bachtrack for Classical Music, Opera, Ballet and Dance Event Reviews, Bachtrack Ltdhttps://Bachtrack.com/Themes/bachtrack2013/Mastheadlogo.png, 17 Jan. 2018, https://bachtrack.com/feature-at-home-whistle-stop-choral-music-june-2017.

Stevens, Denis William. “Choral Music.” Encyclopedia Britannica, Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 19 Jan. 2015, https://www.britannica.com/art/choral-music.

THE BAROQUE PERIOD (1600-1750), http://cmed.faculty.ku.edu/private/hyltonbar.html.

THE CLASSICAL PERIOD (1775-1825), http://cmed.faculty.ku.edu/private/classical.html.

THE ROMANTIC PERIOD (1825-4900), http://cmed.faculty.ku.edu/private/romantic.html.

#essay paper #history #history essay #music #music history #trans awareness week #trans pride #you are valid #you are loved #you are important

[abbacchiosbelt]

I have baby fever real bad right now and these jojo blogs are making it worse, smh! Headcanons for Buccellati’s gang welcoming their newborn baby, please?

babies!! babies!! as always, minor characters are aged up. (♡˙︶˙♡)

Bruno has been beyond excited ever since you told him you werepregnant. His greatest dream was to live a simple life in the beautifulcountryside with a family… and now, some of that dream is coming true! He’sbeen the picture of a perfect husband (not that he already wasn’t) yourwhole pregnancy, and he’s ready for any possible scenario. When your baby girlcomes, though, Bruno is at a loss for words with happy tears streaming down hisface. He cradles her gently and brushes her soft black hair back with hisfingers – she’s a perfect mix of her parents.

Bruno is going to make sure you don’t lift a finger until you’reproperly recovered. He doesn’t want you to miss out on bonding time, though, sohe brings your baby girl to you when it’s time for feedings, or just so thatthe two of you can spend time together. He loves to lay with his girls, holdingyou tight while you hold your daughter.

When you’re sleeping, Bruno takes a million pictures of your daughter,so you don’t miss anything. He also sends them regularly to a group chat withthe rest of the gang – Narancia, Mista, and Trish always respond enthusiastically.Abbacchio and Fugo say she’s cute, and Giorno sends emojis expressing hisemotions. They’re always cute flowers and happy faces.

Trish and Giorno bought the baby a ton of designer baby outfits –including a custom-made onesie to look like Bruno’s favorite suit. Bruno putsit on her all the time because it’s adorable.

His favorite part of the day is sunset, when his family sits onthe patio. You hold your daughter while she sleeps or nurses in a rocking chair,and Bruno sits next to you with your hand in his. He can’t believe that this ishis life now. He has a little twinkle in his eye when he looks at the two of you,imagining how nice it might be while the two of you sit on the porch and watchyour children run down the beach…

 Abbacchio is simultaneously terrified and ecstatic. He’ddo anything for you and his unborn son, but hell, he’s messed up so many timesthat he’s worried he won’t get this right either. Just assure him you’re inthis together, and it will help him calm down. When he holds his new son in hisarms, Abbacchio feels a softening in his heart similar to the first time he metyou. His son has the same eyes as him.

He doesn’t sleep much anyways, so he’salways up to take your son for night duty. If you can’t sleep, though, he lovesyour company while the two of you calm your son. He likes to hear assurancefrom you that he’s doing it right. Despite his insecurities, he’s a great newdaddy. Your son is charmed by his silvery hair and lipstick.

He spends a lot of time in the firstweeks listening to music with the baby. All the books recommended just survivingthe first few weeks, so he listens to the same opera on vinyl that he and youused to dance to whilst you were pregnant. Your son would always kick inexcitement when Abbacchio turned on Monteverdi.

He doesn’t do baby talk, so sometimesyou find him saying really funny and blunt things to your son. He tones hisvoice down, of course, but he’ll make snarky remarks about other people whilereassuring your son that he and his Mommy are much better. Call him out and he’llblush, just a little.

He’s amazed by how naturally it allseems to come to you, and how easily he’s fallen into family life. He’s notsure if he wants another child because he’s so in love with you and his new son.

Mista is already a Dad to the Sex Pistols,but having a human baby is a whole new deal! He cried out of happiness when youtold him you were pregnant, and then cried again out of happiness and stresswhen you told him you were pregnant with twins. He’s always wanted a big family,but it’s a lot to deal with! Still, he gets himself put back together and isthe sweetest husband you could ever ask for. He’s always talking to your bellyand placing kisses on it before bed. At the hospital, he’s a little freaked outwhen you go into labor. Once his twin daughters are placed in your arms,though, he bawls. He loves them so much, and they both have his curlybrown hair that he hides under his hat.

Mista and you are in for a wild, butrewarding, time. The girls are just as excitable as their father, and both ofyou find yourselves up super late at night taking care of them. It’s stressful,but Mista never lets it show and showers you with compliments about what aperfect Mommy you are for the girls. His ‘ladies’ are his highest priority, andhe tells everyone in the group chat about how great all of you are.

Absolutely texts Bruno for advice –and to a lesser extent, Trish. He doesn’t want to do anything wrong, but bothof them happily come over to help out when you and Mista are at your wits end.The babies love both of them, though they pull at Trish’s pink hair and Bruno’szippers.

Mista pretends to make the girls haveconversations with each other to make you laugh – although his eyes go widewhen they start grabbing at the Sex Pistols. They can see them?! The SexPistols love the babies, but they have to be careful or the girls chew on them.

Mista had a list of dad jokes plannedfrom the start, so expect your husband to rattle them off as soon as he can. Helikes to hold the babies and tell them the jokes, seeing if they’ll giggle atall.

He’s completely head over heels for thegirls and you. He couldn’t have asked for anything more – and he’s kind ofready for more kids already!

Narancia never thought he’d get to live out his dreamof having a family, so he runs outside and screams in excitement when you tell himyou’re pregnant. He’s so excited that he can barely handle it, and hedrops to his knees after coming back inside and plants kisses all over yourvery tiny baby bump, promising to be the best Daddy this side of Naples. Heinvites everyone to the hospital. He lets you squeeze his hand as tight as youwant, but he’s afraid you might break it at one point. When his son emerges,same purple eyes, Narancia cries out of happiness and plants kisses on you andhis new son.

Rivals Mista in his enthusiasm over hisson and wife – he just loves the two of you so much, and he’ll protect andcherish you with everything he has in him. He’s still goofy and a little immature,but he does his best to help you out. He always puts his son in cute outfits tomatch his.

When it’s okay for your son to go out,he enthusiastically shows the both of you off to strangers. Anyone passing bywill be subjected to ‘look at my beautiful wife and son’ if they look in thebaby carriage. He just can’t contain his love for you and the baby! He’s alsovery overprotective and watches other people like a hawk when he’s out with hisfamily.

He falls asleep with his son on hischest a lot, one arm holding him close. Take pictures, because he loves to seethem!

He’s very proud that he can read to hisson, even if they’re simpler books to start with. His son may not understandyet, but the joy Narancia gets out of reading to him is unrivaled.

Fugo is quiet in his reaction – he’s excited, butscared. He doesn’t want to be like his parents, and he doesn’t want to hurt youor his unborn child with his anger issues. Still, he can’t deny the happinessin his heart when he sees your growing bump. He’s so excited to start a familywith you, the love of his life. When his new son is born, Fugo is silent withawe. He cries a few tears, but he’s mostly concerned with how you and the babyare doing. He’s read a lot of material about pregnancy, birth, andchild-rearing. The first time his son is placed in his arms, though, he forgetseverything and focuses on the feeling of warmth blooming in his chest.

Fugo has a schedule set up, althoughhe quickly finds out that newborns don’t really adhere to schedules… Still, hehappily offers to help whenever you need it, and wordlessly wakes up at nightto calm your son if he’s crying.

He’s delighted when Narancia sends hima strawberry hat for the baby – he takes a bunch of pictures of the three ofyou in your matching strawberry outfits/accessories. It’s extremelycute, and everyone gets a printout to frame the picture. Fugo has never lookedso domestic!

Fugo loves to cuddle up with you andthe baby and listen to classical music or read to the two of you. He won’t everpressure his son like his parents did to him, but he sees no problem with doingthings that are said to help babies with intelligence at an early age.

Giorno, much like Fugo, is silent in his excitement.He never expected to have a loving partner, let alone a family… and he doesn’t haveany experience living in a proper and nurturing family. He trusts you to helphim, but he’s worried about messing things up. Still, he loves you immenselyand loves his unborn daughter from the second he finds out you’re pregnant. He’salso worried for your safety. For the birth, Giorno buys out an entire hospitaland ensures the best and most private staff will cater to you. Everyone isthere for support, but it’s only you and Giorno present for the birth. Giornolets you hold his hand on one side and GER’s hand on the other. He’s amazed atthe sight of his new daughter – he’s thrumming with nervous excitement andstarts to feel anxious about her being handled by the staff. Once she’s placedin your arms, he calms down and gazes at the both of you with pure adoration.

He’s extra careful with his new family’ssafety and privacy. Even though the Don can’t afford to take time away fromPassione, Giorno does because his family comes first now. He adores spendingtime laying with you and his new daughter, simply observing.

His daughter has the same birthmark onher shoulder as he does – but he’s not surprised by her dark brown hair sosimilar to his natural color. She’s a quiet baby and very observant, much likehe was. Unlike his upbringing, Giorno showers her with affection and love. He’salways holding her if you’re not – there’s not a second that goes by that she’snot being held, unless she’s asleep.

Giorno uses GER to make little flowersfor your daughter. He loves when her little face lights up! When he’s at home,he holds her in the crook of his arm whilst he does paperwork before he comesto cuddle you and spend time with his girls.

#jjba headcanons #vento aureo #bruno buccellati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #giorno giovanna #babystuff #reader insert #pregnancy content #Anonymous #my writing