#they only play classical/folk music without words

[yellobb]

Sorted through the fucking WEEDS to make a playlist full of the songs they play at the theme park I grew up near instead of, ya know, doing my fucking dishes

#m rambles #genuinely proud of how it turned out overall #they only play classical/folk music without words #so it was very difficult to find stuff #now I can feel like I’m there whenever I want tho 😌 #that place was my childhood so it’s very nostalgic #been going since I was in diapers and most recently the week before I moved #multiple times a year every year #it’s the shit

[hiya-itsamber]

COMING HOME - NASH HAWTHORNE X READER

Word count: about 4k, sorry if it's too long 😭 You’re welcome to be the first person to (help me) tag this under #nash hawthorne fanfic or something (: + this wasn't checked entirely, so sorry if there's any errors :,)

Having spent most of your childhood years in the area, Texas City was nothing new to you. However, now returning for the first time in almost a decade, it just didn’t quite feel the same. 

Your life was quite literally perfect, you recalled, right up until nine years ago. Your childhood and early teenage years were filled with opulence, extravagant parties, and the privileges that came with being a member of one of the more wealthy families in the city. Being in these elite circles limited your social life, and only allowed you to mix with those of the same status. There weren’t too many rich folks in the South and even fewer of those who had children. Most of them were too snobbish, too stuck up for you to want to speak with, and the lack of options led to many failed attempts at making friends.

It didn’t come as a surprise to anyone when you finally clicked with the mischievous brothers Hawthorne. 

At the ripe age of only seven, you were wreaking havoc with the Hawthorne grandson just a year older than you—Nash. As soon as you saw the little boy with the cowboy hat standing beside his grandfather at a social, you knew you wanted to be friends with him. And that you became. 

Every soirée, fundraiser, gala, you name it, you and Nash were found fooling around. Crawling under the immaculate, cream colored dining cloths and holding your own parties under the tables? Check. Tossing handfuls of grapes at each other in the corner of ballrooms? Check. As you grew up, your little stunts only got bolder. Sneaking into the coat room and swapping the jackets, making a mess of the chocolate fountains, changing the classic violin music playing over the speakers to pop music that had guests gasping. Sometimes you didn’t get caught. When you did, the both of you would get scolded together, but it was so worth it. 

You and Nash were inseparable. Where he went, you followed. Okay, maybe you were the one hanging onto him. But he didn’t mind. He liked having you around. 

Of course, there was Grayson, Jameson, and Xander Hawthorne, too. The first you didn’t like so much. He reminded you too much of the kids you couldn’t make friends with. The two younger ones, though, were fun, also contributing to the entertaining chaos you and Nash loved to cause. But they were more of annoying younger brothers than friends to you. 

What started out as seeing them during fancy dinners turned into meeting up outside of those said dinners. Countless afternoons were spent at Hawthorne house, playing board games and just talking. Occasionally, as you grew older, the esteemed Tobias Hawthorne even let you participate in their Saturday morning puzzles. 

You were convinced you couldn’t live a better life once you were accepted into Heights Country Day School, the same school Nash had been attending since a year prior. You and Nash were closer than ever, and sometimes you let yourself wonder if maybe, just maybe, you were something a little more than close friends. Your fifteen year old self was convinced that nothing, nothing could go wrong.

That was, until something happened. 

In the week you learnt that your father had gotten into the habit of gambling, he lost a very massive bet. You’d barely been at Heights Country Day for a term before you were stripped of the money to go to the school, the title your family held. 

Somehow, your shrewd businessman of a father squandered your family’s wealth without you even knowing it until you were flying out of Texas City. You found yourself plummeting from the pinnacle of society to…plain old middle class. 

A normal high school, with normal people. A normal apartment, normal dinners, normal, normal, normal. Gone were the extravagant banquets and social gatherings. Gone was the family legacy. 

Gone were the Hawthorne boys. Most importantly, gone was Nash. 

The only thing you had left and held dear was one of the many spare cowboy hats you took from Nash and never managed to return. You wore it on Halloween for that first year out of Texas City. 

No matter how many times you tried to contact him, you couldn’t get through. You didn’t expect to, knowing how hard it was to reach someone of that status. You yourself were once up there. 

Luckily, your father didn’t lose so much money that it was terrible. In fact, you guys were still quite well off. You didn’t miss the status, or the money, or the events. You missed something—someone far worse.

Nine years later, you find yourself in Texas City again, to speak to your uncle who took over the business after your father was displaced. To hopefully be able to work in the prestigious company and earn back what your father had lost. 

Countless times, the many scenarios of what might have happened played over and over again in your head, all a little different from the last. Some of them were about taking over as the CEO of your family business—most of them were about meeting Nash. 

Yet there were so many ‘what if’s. What if he didn’t remember you? What if he didn’t want to speak to you? And the one that haunted you the most. What if he’s in a relationship with someone else? 

No matter how many times you tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t, he isn’t—you were sure it would’ve been reported in gossip sites if he was—you couldn’t help but stress over it. 

Another thing you were stressing over? Forgetting how the bus system worked here and ended up getting stuck in front of the information board that just started looking like a bunch of colored boxes and bus numbers and stops. 

Which is where you’d been for the last half an hour. It was the dead of the night, and taxis weren’t going to the airport frequently at that time. 

You were about to give up and splurge on a taxi when a voice greeted you. 

“You look a little lost, darlin’.” His voice was so much deeper, so much older and masculine, the Texan accent thickened that you almost didn’t recognize it at first. 

Seeing the cowboy hat casting a shadow over those familiar mischievous eyes made you want to burst out laughing or sobbing, you weren’t sure. Maybe a mix of both. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, staring at Nash Hawthorne. You doubted you would even recognize him if not for seeing him occasionally on the news, but, oh, he was so different in real life. 

Tall, slightly muscular build, broad shoulders, relaxed posture, the lines of his face that were difficult to make out in the dim lighting of the street lamp and much less under the hat. So, so different but so, so him. 

“Do we know each other from somewhere? You look vaguely familiar,” he mused, removing the cowboy hat with one large hand to properly reveal his face. 

You burst into tears, and any previous daydream scenarios about playing it cool all crumbled. 

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, did I do somethin’ to offend you?”

“Nash,” you found yourself blubbering, tears falling onto your cheeks faster than you could swipe all of them away. You realized you probably looked a mess, and tried to pull yourself together. This was not how it was supposed to go. 

“Oh.” His slightly awkward, pitying smile faded. “Oh, sweetheart. C’mere.” 

Dropping your single duffel bag onto the floor with a thud, strong arms pulled you into his firm chest, the cowboy hat in one hand digging into your back but you didn’t mind. Looping your arms around his neck, you forced yourself to calm down. You didn’t even expect yourself to react like this. You thought he’d be a stranger to you, even though you prayed he thought about you. 

Nash Hawthorne, your partner in crime, the odd little cowboy at functions, the Hawthorne with a heart as big as his hat.

The hug was more than just a simple hug. It felt like coming home. It wasn’t awkward or tense or anything you hoped it wouldn’t be. It was…perfect. 

“I missed you so much,” you whispered into his shoulder, clinging onto him like he was your lifeline. 

A warm chuckle vibrated through his chest and you could feel it buzz through your bones. “I missed you, too.”

Taking one last deep inhale, you took a step back. Without the tears clouding your eyes, you could make out the features of his face. He’d gotten way more handsome over the last few years, as if he wasn’t already attractive enough—to you, at least—at sixteen. Tender hazel eyes and tousled brown hair, his lips quirked up into that charming smile you missed so terribly. An unzipped leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders and arms, and he wore jeans and scuffed boots. Where he used to act a little awkward dressed like this, he seemed completely used to it now as if a leather jacket and a cowboy hat was what he slept in.

“Hi,” you whispered, tugging your own jacket closer to hide the flush creeping up your neck. 

His grin widened, placing the cowboy hat back on top of it his head to cover the mess of brown hair. “Hi. Wanna explain what you’re doin’ here?” 

“Yeah, um,” you hugged your arms around yourself. “Trying to figure out if a bus comes here at this time.”

“Not here here, just, y’know, in Texas.”

“Oh. Work, I guess.” You shrugged a shoulder. 

“Okay,” Nash—Nash! Your brain still hadn’t recovered from seeing him, from the rush of dopamine he seemed to give you—drags the word out. “And to answer your question, no, buses don’t come here at this time. Do you need a ride?” 

“Yes, please.” You told him your destination and picked your duffel off the floor, adjusting it over your shoulder. “What’re you doing at the airport in the middle of the night anyway?”

“Droppin’ somethin’ off for Xander, y’know how it is, kid,” he said in that smooth, drawling accent of his, easing the strap of your bag off your shoulder and hanging it over his instead. 

You had too many things to say, but none of them could come out fast enough before the both of you stopped by a motorbike. Your jaw dropped, eyes wide as you looked between him and the bike. “Is this yours?” 

“Yeah.” He ran a hand over the seat of the bike with a proud smile before picking the helmet up and catching you off guard by placing it over your head. It was a little big but cramped at the same time, but it smelt like him—wood and leather and paper money, so you didn’t mind. “Let’s go.” He jerks his head to the bike. 

Excitement buzzed through you as you climbed onto the beautiful bike, feeling the handles appreciatively. “This is insane! When-” 

Before you could continue, Nash was behind you, his chest pressed against your back. He dumps your bag onto your lap, telling you to hang on to it, before his arms caged you in as he reached for the handles. He was so warm, so comfortable, you wanted to sink into him and stay there forever. 

“Wait, don’t you need a helmet?” 

“Nah,” he adjusted his hat so that it wouldn’t fly off. “No one’s policin’ the roads at this time, it’ll be fine. Just sayin’, allowin’ you to sit in front of me is also illegal, but then-” 

A thrilled yelp left your lips instead of a reply as the engine rumbled to life and Nash kicked off, picking up speed as you two zoomed down the empty road lit only by streetlamps and the half moon. You had one hand steadying the bag between your legs, the other on the metal of the handlebar. The wind on your skin and the rumbling of the engine mixed together to create the most exhilarating experience of your life as the two of you zoomed down the open road. Halfway through, light raindrops started to fall, the drizzle turning into a full-on shower as you two pulled up by the apartment you rented for the time being. 

With your bag under Nash’s arm, the two of you raced to the shelter where you keyed in the passcode to open the door to the apartment building with his hand casually on the small of your back. The door swung shut behind him, muting the sound of the heavy rain. Then the both of you looked at one another and started to laugh, all disheveled appearance and wet clothes. 

“Come on,” he said, shaking his head and still smiling. “Where’s your place?”

“Seventh floor,” you replied, looking around for a lift and groaning when you didn’t find one. “I don’t wanna take the stairs.” 

A mischievous smile toyed at the corners of Nash’s lips and you couldn’t even form a protest before he was hoisting you over his shoulder and your surprised shriek sounded through the corridor. “Nash!”

“Shh, people are sleeping,” he chided, hands on the back of your thighs to lock you in place. 

His hat jabbed into your side with each step and you brought your fists down on his muscled back. “Let me down, asshole! There is no way in hell you are going to make it up seven flights of stairs without one of us dying and it’s going to be me if you don’t put me down!” 

“Yeah, yeah, sweetheart, I missed you too.”

He started going up the stairs, his hard shoulder digging into your stomach and your legs kicking, watching as your duffel bag swung against his other hip with every step. Giving up, you slumped down against him, a scowl on your face. 

Eventually your feet touched the ground in front of the only door on level seven. Turning to Nash with your hands on your hips, you were about to open your mouth and grumble at him, but the young man flashed you a dashing grin and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t even have the decency to look slightly winded. “Yeah, darlin’?”

You scoffed at him despite the warm rush that made its way through your veins at his words, smacking the side of his bicep. “Don’t do that next time.”

“Why not?” he asked while you unlocked the door. “You said you didn’t wanna climb the stairs, and you didn’t. You should be happy. Where’s my thank you?”

“Thank you,” you bit out, shoving him into the house and locking the door behind you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“That I am, darlin’.” He dropped the duffel bag on the floor and removed his hat, leaving it on the small table that was too tiny to be considered a dining table. 

He flicked the light on. The place was a small, cozy studio apartment you found for cheap on a B&B app, and rented out for the next two months. There was a queen sized bed in the corner, a sofa so tiny it could probably only sit two people if you squeezed, a closet, two chairs at a small table beside the kitchenette, and a bathroom. The time on the clock showed 2 in the morning, and the rain outside was pouring down heavily, hitting the windows even as you drew the curtains shut. 

Nash frowns and nudges the bag with the heel of his boot. “You’re staying here for a while and all you have is this?” 

“My dad’s coming down for a little while next week so he’ll bring the rest of my stuff,” you said, picking the bag up and starting to unpack. “You wanna stay around for a while? I don’t think the rain’s gonna stop anytime soon and I doubt it’s safe to get back in this weather.”

Nash took his brown leather jacket off and draped it over one of the chairs before sitting on it, and you tried your best not to stare at the way his arms and chest filled out the white shirt snugly. You couldn’t look away fast enough, and he caught you staring. “Yes?”

“Nothing.” Kicking your now empty bag to the side, you sat on the floor with your legs drawn up to your chest. “So, how’s everything lately? I’m sorry about your grandfather.”

He hummed in response. “Apart from that, nothin’ much. You?”

“Oh, you know. Been spending time trying to avoid my dad and help mom.”

“I’m sorry.” He pulls a face. 

Unsure of what to say, you exhaled. The silence between the both of you was a little awkward—or was it just you? A yawn stretched across your face that had Nash saying, “If you’re tired or anythin’ I can leave-”

“No!” You cleared your throat, embarrassed. “I mean, don’t go.”

There was an amused grin on his face as he stood and stretched. “Go take a shower. I’ll wait.”

Half an hour later when you got out of the shower, there were fresh sheets on the bed and pillows and Nash’s large frame was sprawled out across the couch, making it look almost minuscule. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. 

“Made the bed,” he told you. “Connected your phone to the WiFi too. Don’t worry, I didn’t go through anything.”

“How did you get into my phone?”

He shrugs. “I guessed. Don’t you change your password?”

“Why do you remember my password?”

“I remember everything.”

The words made your heart still and beat even faster at the same time, hear rising to your cheeks. 

Nash offered you a lazy smile and raked his eyes over you as he got up, moving to stand closer to you. You were so close you could count the few sun freckles on his nose and cheeks if you wanted to. 

And of course you had to ruin the moment by blurting out, “Do you want to spend the night? I mean- I can, like, sleep on the sofa, you can have the bed. You made the bed anyway. I just don’t want you driving in the rain-” 

You shut up when his gaze dropped to your lips and lingered there a second too long.

“Sorry if that was weird,” you apologized, wringing your hands. 

One corner of his lips quirked up. “You were always weird anyway.”

“Hey!” 

“It’s okay. I like you better like that.”

Butterflies. Butterflies you hadn’t felt in your stomach since you last saw him as a hormonal teenager. You thought they went extinct as you grew, but apparently not. 

“If your offer still stands, then, sure, I wouldn’t mind staying. And don’t be silly, darlin’, that’s not a sofa you can sleep on.” He spared a glance at said sofa, then turned back to you. “I don’t see why the bed’s a problem. There’s plenty o’ space.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “If you’re fine with that.”

“If you’re fine with that. My clothes are dry now, if that’s what’s botherin’ you.”

You didn’t care about his clothes being wet. You were more than fine. Way more than fine. 

As you tucked yourself under the cold duvet, Nash turned the lights off before walking in long strides over to the bed. You felt the bed dip as he lay down beside you, the both of you staring at the ceiling silently, quiet breaths drowned out by the sound of rain. 

“Nash?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

Turning over, you let your eyes wander the silhouette of his face in the dark. The little ridge in his high nose, his lips slightly parted. He was handsome in a way you couldn’t explain. 

You could see the way his lips tilted up a little before he turned on his side to face you too. “Tell me a secret.” 

“I stole one of your hats before I left. Still have it,” you said proudly, then laughed. 

“That’s not a secret. I knew that.” He was so, so close, you could feel his minty breath on your cheek. Of course, leave it to the Hawthorne boys to still have fresh-smelling breath in the middle of the night. 

“I dunno.” You shrugged. “You tell me one.”

“Hm,” Nash pretended to think, a glint in his eyes despite the dark. “You promise not to tell anyone?”

You grinned. “Pinky promise.”

“Okay, well. I…wanted to be your first kiss, and I had everything planned out, but you left before I had the guts to do it.”

You didn’t seem to hear anything past the word kiss, everything in your head coming to a halt. Nash flashed you that charming grin of his, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nash…”

“Hm?” The low rumble of his hum almost had you shivering.

“You said ‘wanted to’. Do you still want to? I mean, you won’t be my first kiss, but maybe you’ll be the first one I actually like,” you returned his smile, albeit rather shy.

“I would.” One large hand came up to the side of your face, hovering above your cheek so you could barely feel the warmth radiating from his palm before he pushed some stray hair off your cheek. His hand lingered there and suddenly he didn’t feel quite as confident as he did just moments ago. 

“Okay,” your voice was barely above a breath, and your fingers wrapped around his wrist. “My turn to tell you a secret.”

“Go on.”

“I wanna kiss you too.”

“Yeah?” He wet his lips, and your heart flipped in your chest as your gaze dropped to his mouth. His hand locked itself behind your neck, half tangled in your hair, as the both of you slowly seemed to draw closer together, almost like magnets in slow motion. 

Raising yourself up on his elbows, you gasped as his lips met yours, going completely still. Everything stopped making sense as your entire universe narrowed in on where his lips were against yours and his hand was warm at the nape of your neck, buzzing with heat and energy you were so sure you were about to explode. 

Nash began to murmur, right up against your lips, “It’s okay if you-”

You pressed your lips harder to his, cutting the words off with a deep groan that reverberated under your palm that was on his chest. 

God, oh god, oh god, oh god.

Suddenly you were on top of him, your face cupped on both of his hands as he led the kiss. Slow, steady, strong presses of his lips against yours, short circuiting your brain. And oh you almost melted when he groaned into your mouth again, carving out a place in your memory for that sweet sound in hopes that you’ll never forget it. 

The kiss said everything you didn’t. Secrets and promises and much the two of you missed one another and all the stories yet to be told, but this was far more efficient than talking. 

You’d take kissing Nash Hawthorne over anything and everything all day, every day.

His pupils were wide and blown out when you two finally stopped, circled by that ring of amber in his gorgeous eyes. Your hair fell to the sides of you like a curtain as you looked down at him, but two of his hands pushed it back before pulling you down again and crushing his mouth to yours. It was more feverish this time, almost messy with the way your teeth and tongues clashed, heavy breaths hanging low in the air alongside the sound of the lightening rain. 

He kissed you until you were dizzy and senseless and when he finally lay you down beside him and wrapped an arm around your waist, dropping a kiss on your hair, you fell asleep with a smile on your face. 

You weren’t sure about how things were going to work out, regarding your job, your personal life, him. But you knew that his kiss held a promise, and you heard it loud and clear. He was going to stick around this time, no matter where it took either of you. He wasn’t going to lose you for a second time. 

It wasn’t easy to be comfortable or fit in anywhere you went, but you fit with him like the perfect puzzle piece. He knew that, and he was determined to offer himself to you as your home for as long as you'd stay.

-🍀

ANON???? BHUFVJDKCM ANON. ANON!?!?!??

ok i've read this a stupid amount of times before i'm posting this and i just wanna say that you did him SO much justice. (also "4k, sorry if it's too long" !??!?!?! CMON I FEEL BLESSED THAT IT'S EVEN 4K THAT'S INCREDIBLE, THIS IS A MASTERPIECE) you wrote nash SO WELL!? so in character i was kicking and giggling and screaming the entire time?????

also when i tell you i shouldve recorded my reaction to reading this because the AMOUNT OF TIMES i fully had to put my phone down and compose myself cuz i was giggling like an idiot.

the cowboy hat stealing, the motorbike ride, the forced proximity, ONE BED??? HE CARRIED HER UP THE STAIRS???? LIKE HELLO!!!!!! HE'S TJHE MOST PERFECT MAN EVER AND 🍀 ANON YOU WROTE HIM SO SO WELL I CANNOT BTGUFRHDJNK!!!!

i FULLY melted into my chair at the kiss, i was SCREAMING. "tell me a secret" oH MY GOD??? also the fucking pet names i couldnt contain myself ofc we have darlin' which is a nash classic BUT ALSO THE SWEETHEART GOT ME ALL TWIRLING MY HAIR AND SHIT LIKE HELLLLLOOO!!!!!!!!

sorry this is just one big mass of me screaming and crying and throwing up because i'm in love with nash hawthorne AND THIS FANFIC. bestie you are a BLESSING to the nash girlies i hope they all find this and read it a million times like i did

thank you sm for writing this!!! it was the best thing ever to wake up to, hugs and kisses x100!!! mwah <333

#🍀 anon <3 #amber answers #nash hawthorne #nash hawthorne x reader #nash hawthorne x you #the brothers hawthorne #nash westbrook hawthorne #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #nash hawthorne fanfic #nash hawthorne drabble #nash hawthorne blurb #nash hawthorne fic #the inheritance games fanfic #the inheritance games fic #the inheritance games x reader #the inheritance games x you #jennifer lynn barnes #long post

[sophia-sol]

A "don't need to know canon" rec list

I was having a conversation with some folks on mastodon a little while ago about the practice of reading fics for fandoms you're not familiar with, and why it works for some people and not others. I understand both approaches, but I am firmly in the camp of being happy to read a fic whether I know the fandom or not, as long as it looks interesting to me!

The particular pleasures are different, but both ways are good: fic about fandoms you know is pleasurably wallowing in an ongoing conversation about something you love (…or love to hate), whereas fic for unfamiliar fandoms is having fun eavesdropping on someone else's conversation and working out a puzzle while enjoying a good story.

But some fics work better than others for reading without canon to contextualize them, and although I'm up for some challenges, you don't actually have to play this game on hard-mode. So I'm here to provide a rec list of fics I have enjoyed without canon knowledge that I think are more broadly successful for that purpose. I hope you find some to enjoy here too!

Arranged alphabetically by fandom.

The Improbable Future, by marycontraire

6k words, not rated

The fandom: crossover between Boy Meets World and Girl Meets World, which are presumably related to each other, though I don't even know what medium they are in.

The fic: A story about family, especially the relationship between a preteen girl and the surrogate father figure in her life. Extremely heartwarming!

Sentimental Reasons, by Frostfire

16k words, rated T

The fandom: Casablanca, one of those famous classic black and white movies, about war

The fic: focuses on the story of a character who is a minor character in the original movie, which allows you to follow the story easily without knowing the original. All Sam wants to do with his life is play music, but racism and war have a tendency to intervene. The story revolves around his relationship with another man, Richard. I love Sam, and I love his pov in this fic. It's an incredible read!

One More Time With Feeling (or, Charlie Brooker and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day), by marginaliana

50k words, rated E

The fandom: british comedians rpf, ft. comedians I've never heard of

The fic: Timeloop! The classic groundhog day experience! And this was a really impressively done timeloop fic. I was particularly impressed with how well the character arc for the protagonist went from totally-an-appalling-asshole to only-normal-level-sympathetic-asshole, and how it shows some of the ways that being in a timeloop can be really awful. And yet - happy ending! Impressive.

The Retirement of Gabriel Argent, by Sixthlight

5k words, rated T

The fandom: Daniel Blackland, which is, I believe, a book series?

The fic: is about two characters who are not Daniel Blackland. It's about finding a way to live a peaceful life that actually makes you happy, when you never thought such a thing would be possible. It's lovely!

go pick out a white dress, by novembersmith

1k words, rated G

The fandom: Deepwater Bride, by Tamsyn Muir, which I'm guessing is a short story.

The fic: a delightful uhhhh one-sided romance about an eldritch sea monster who is really into a human, much to the dismay of, well, everyone. But the eldritch being will not be disheartened! Such a charming voice.

Hesitation Waltz, by cranialaccessory

20k words, rated T

The fandom: From Eroica With Love, which I know literally nothing about

The fic: Two cold war era spies have to pretend to be married for a case. One of them is flamboyant and foppish, the other is grouchy and bad at acting. Together they learn things about teamwork and trust! (and that they're into each other.)

confirmation bias, by novembersmith

14k words, rated E

The fandom: Integrate, which I'm guessing is a book

The fic: This is the fic that instantly came to mind when I first thought of making this rec list. I love it. It's a totally adorable alien/human interspecies romance, from the pov of the alien, who of course finds the human the alien one. Every single thing in the fic is a delight.

Get Up, and Go Forth, by Frostfire

15k words, rated T

The fandom: the tv show Kings, which I once tried and failed to watch, but is loosely based on the biblical story of David and Jonathan

The fic: Hey, it works just fine as bible fanfic instead! (I'm afraid I don't know how it would read if you aren't familiar with the biblical story. My parents were rigorous about making sure I would be biblically literate.) The fic focuses on the Jonathan character, here called Jack, as he explores what it means to be on David's side instead of his father's. I have reread this fic so many times. It's just so well done!

A Divinely Attractive Arrangement, by Fahye

6k words, rated T

The fandom: the movie Love and Friendship. I've read the book Love and Freindship [sic] but the movie, despite the name, is not actually based on the book!

The fic: featuring the pov of the most amiably oblivious person in the absolutely entire world as he settles into his recent marriage. He's so genuinely happy about everything in his life! Even as it is obvious to the reader how much the other characters in the story are manipulating him. I love him very much.

This Episode Brought To You By, by ryfkah

6k words, rated T

The fandom: a kdrama, Mr. Queen. Going in I did in fact know a very slim amount about the actual canon, which I believe is a useful starting point for reading the fic: it's a show about a modern chef who transmigrates into Korean history, into the body of a queen; the queen, meanwhile, ends up in the future in the chef's body.

The fic: is about both the chef and the queen, as they explore their identity and their desires through the medium of food, and it is a complete delight.

Sweet In the Gale Is Heard, by Toft

11k words, rated T

The fandom: Pegasus, by Robin McKinley, a novel I've never read despite generally being a McKinley fan because I heard it ends on a cliffhanger and the sequel was never published.

The fic: A fixit for the cliffhanger! Interspecies romance between a human and a pegasus, and absolutely lovely.

Things Which Catch the Eye, by petrichoral

3k words, rated G

The fandom: The Pillow Book, by Sei Shonagon, which is a book I have heard of often over the years but have never actually read.

The fic: ships Sei Shonagon with another woman who presumably appears in the book as well, showing the arc of their relationship in short snatches that come together skilfully. Truly excellent.

you wait and you wonder who'll take on your odds, by paperclipbitch

138k words, rated E

The fandom: The Queen's Gambit, a tv show which I gather is about chess

The fic: An "exes to friends to spouses to lovers" marriage of convenience story. I love how well balanced this is between all the different aspects of things going on: the feelings between Beth and Benny, the working out how to make a life together (separate from the feelings), the chess, the simmering sexual attraction, the other people in Beth's life who are important to her, and Beth's understanding of herself. Really good!

Lebenswerk, by Serena

10k words, rated T

The fandom: Sunset Boulevard, a classic movie about movie-making

The fic: A director's relationship with his star actor, and the things he does and doesn't choose to prioritize over the years. It is interesting, and also rather uncomfortable in places, in ways that are entirely fitting to the story. I was really captivated by it!

Moab, by Parhelion

13k words, rated G

The fandom: an old-school sci-fi book series called The People, by Zenna Henderson

The fic: reads like a lovely, quiet, thoughtful, and kind original scifi story itself, about a human-looking space alien orphan stranded on earth with supernatural powers he has to hide, raised by a woman he calls Aunt, as he finds his place in the world of the early 20th century.

Transformers Works, by astolat

331k words, ratings ranging from T to E

The fandom: Transformers. A tv show (or multiple?) and toys and possibly other media as well? About robot war.

The fic: this is actually a link to all of astolat's fics about transformers. Pretty much every transformers fic Astolat has written is basically: given different base assumptions about how the universe works, how to end the war. And I love all of it, omg, both the different choices of worldbuilding in each fic and also the commitment to ending the war. Pick and choose between the fics for what you want to read!

Variations on a Theme from Turandot, by Ada Hoffman

7k words, not rated

The fandom: Turandot, which I'm guessing is an opera, or maybe a ballet?

The fic: A professionally published story which also happens to be fanfic. Does what it says on the tin! I'm not quite sure I followed the ending, but somehow it works like that even so. I found it so interesting.

A Good Bargain, by Neery

11k words, rated E

The fandom: Word of Honor, a wuxia-genre tv show that I have heard goes as hard on gay themes as it possibly could within the censorship rules it was produced under.

The fic: Does the thing where someone enters a marriage of convenience, but takes their marriage vows seriously and is now firmly working on the side of their spouse. And in this case the spouse knows this about them and planned it on purpose! DELIGHTFUL. I adore it.

#fic recs #rec list

[oliverreedmasterass]

Synopsis: The members of Greta Van Fleet agree to do an interview with the Human Napkin himself, Nardwuar, and find themselves ridiculously unprepared for his interview style.

Words: 2k

Warnings: language, some sexual innuendos (kinda?), mentions of stalking, the void™️

Notes: Shoutout to @skywaydrifter for the amazing fic idea, and sending me down a wild Nardwuar binge-fest

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

Nardwuar theme plays with the animated intro video. The shot opens to show NARDWUAR standing in front of an impressive display of vinyl records, next to JOSH KISZKA. 

NARDWUAR: How are you?

Nardwuar shoves his microphone into Josh’s face. Josh flinches back a bit, but then leans into the microphone.

JOSH: Absolutely groovy. 

NARDWUAR: Tell me who you are. 

JOSH: That’s a bit of a loaded question. I’m a dreamer, a mere mortal, a man with a dream…

NARDWUAR: Your name. 

JOSH: Oh. Josh Kiszka. Frontman for the group, Greta Van Fleet. 

Josh curtsies to the camera.

NARDWUAR: Welcome to Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. And right off the bat, I have a gift for ya.   

JOSH puts a hand over his heart and looks at the camera in shock.

JOSH: Now I feel bad, I didn’t bring you anything. 

NARDWUAR (continued): I’ve got this 1966 album, All About Miriam. 

JOSH: (taking the album and cradling it in his arms) Oh my goodness.

NARDWUAR: I heard that you’re a fan. 

JOSH: Miriam Makeba? Oh yeah, she’s one of my favorites. My parents had a few of her albums that they would play all the time when I was younger. She’s got such a rich voice, I can only dream of sounding like that. 

NARDWUAR: But you do have a pretty distinct voice that I’m sure a lot of people are jealous of. How did you find that sound? 

JOSH: I started screaming and then I guess I kind of found my way, eventually. (chuckles) No, but actually, my vocal coach, Ron, I call him “The Master” because he genuinely saved my vocal cords. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him. 

NARDWUAR: How do you do it? Is it special vocal warmups? Some kind of mystery technique? 

JOSH: Well, you see, if I told you, I’d have to kill you. 

NARDWUAR: I’ve got another gift for you here, Josh. 

JOSH: Oh god, now I feel super bad. 

NARDWUAR: Costumes are a big part of your stage presence. Here, I’ve got a piece that might look familiar to you. 

Nardwuar holds out Josh’s infamous golden pants, and Josh reluctantly takes them.

JOSH: Oh boy, I forgot how shiny and see through these were. 

NARDWUAR: You wore these in the sweltering sun on the iHeart Radio festival stage in Las Vegas, Nevada on Saturday, September 22, 2018, didn’t you? 

JOSH: I’m not sure if these are the exact pair…

NARDWUAR: They are. 

JOSH: Huh? Did you dig them out of the dumpster or something? 

NARDWUAR: Now, Josh, can you tell me about Sean Reyes?

Josh looks at Nardwuar with intense skepticism.

JAKE: (offscreen) What the fuck? 

JOSH: Now how do you know about Sean Reyes? 

NARDWUAR: It’s Josh Kiszka trivia!

Josh squints at Nardwuar, uncertain.

JOSH: Sean Reyes was my third grade teacher. 

NARDWUAR: And he was the one who encouraged you to write poetry, right? 

JOSH: Yes…..

NARDWUAR: Like haikus? 

JOSH: Mr. Reyes would play a lot of folk stuff for us, like John Denver, Joni Mitchell, all the classics, and he could tell I really dug it. He pulled me aside after class, showed me some of his favorite lyrics, and explained how it was a form of poetry. I took that to heart and spent a lot of time outside of class writing poems after that.

NARDWUAR: Were they any good? 

JOSH: Well, some lines ended up in our songs, so you tell me. 

NARDWUAR: Well, I heard your twin brother behind the camera just now. Let’s bring him out here. Come here, Jake! 

JAKE joins Josh’s side in front of the camera, looking nervous. He’s wringing his hands, avoiding eye contact with Nardwuar.

NARDWUAR: Hello, Jake. 

JAKE: (short) Hi. 

NARDWUAR: I have a gift for you. 

JAKE: Uh, okay. 

NARDWUAR: It’s a poster from H.O.R.D.E. Festival at Deer Creek Music Center in Noblesville, Indiana featuring big names like Blues Traveler, The Black Crowes, and Taj Mahal from 1995. Something important happened at this festival, right? 

Jake pales.

JAKE: Uh. Uh. 

Josh is staring pretty hard at Nardwuar.

JAKE: (to Josh) There’s no way he knows about that. How could he know about that? 

Nardwuar sneaks the microphone closer into Jake’s mouth. 

NARDWUAR: Well? 

JAKE: Okay, uh, they might kill me for admitting this on camera, but my parents are pretty sure that’s where Josh and I were conceived. 

NARDWUAR: Do you like Taj Mahal? 

Jake struggles to rebound from that 180. 

JAKE: Um (beat) yeah. I’d list him as a big influence. 

NARDWUAR: And another gift for Jake Kiszka! 

JAKE: (whispering to Josh) This guy freaks me out. 

NARDWUAR: Here you go! 

Nardwuar tosses Jake a ziploc bag containing something brown. Jake’s reflexes get the better of him and he grabs the bag out of the air, and then blankly studies what’s in his hands. 

JAKE: What the actual fuck. 

NARDWUAR: Tell me what you’re holding there! 

JAKE: Hair. It’s my hair. 

JOSH: What??

JAKE: I’m not even joking. This is what they chopped off, like, last year before our second leg of the Dreams in Gold Tour. 

JOSH: (growing defensive of his brother) Where did you get that from?

NARDWUAR: What was the reason for the big chop? 

JAKE: I could have sworn my hairdresser said she was going to donate that. 

NARDWUAR: Oh, she did. 

JAKE: I’m sorry, what? 

SAM bounds into the scene in front of the camera, looking energetic. 

SAM: This is fun! Do me now! 

NARDWUAR: Sam Kiszka! Alright, Jake. Thanks and doot doola doot doo…

JAKE: Huh? 

NARDWUAR: (finishing for Jake) Doo doo! (turns to Sam) I have a question for you. 

Sam is hopping from foot to foot and clapping his hands with glee while Jake confusedly wanders off camera.

SAM: Fire away! 

NARDWUAR: Your aunt works at State Farm in Chicago. 

DANNY: (offscreen) That’s not a question. 

JOSH: How could you possibly know that? 

NARDWUAR: Have you ever had to file a claim with her? 

SAM: Well, actually one time…

JOSH: Ssh! Don’t tell him anything. 

NARDWUAR: (entirely unbothered) I have a gift you might like, Sam! 

SAM: Oh my god! You guys aren’t gonna believe this. It’s my birth certificate! 

JOSH: What kind of interviewer are you?? 

NARDWUAR: I’m just a fan, guys, just a fan. I love your music! 

Sam’s phone rings. 

SAM: Whoops, sorry. I know this is unprofessional but, one sec. I gotta take this. 

Instead of going off camera to answer the phone in private like a normal person, Sam answers the phone and puts it on speaker. 

SAM (continued): Y’ello? 

KAREN: (obviously shaken) Sam? 

SAM: Hey Mom, what’s up? 

KAREN: Are you boys alright? 

Josh grabs the phone from Sam. 

JOSH: Mom? What’s going on? 

KAREN: Someone broke into our house while your dad and I were on our trip. We’re worried it might have been a stalker since they took a lot of your possessions and some important documents. 

JOSH: Oh my god, are you okay? 

KAREN: Fine, just a bit shaken up. But, I’m so sorry, they stole Sammy’s birth certificate. 

Sam calls into the phone over Josh’s shoulder.

SAM: Don’t worry about it, Mom! I just got it gifted back to me! 

Josh hands Sam his phone and rushes away. 

JOSH: (screaming offscreen) RICHARD! WE NEED BACKUP!

KAREN: I’m gonna have to call my sister to file a claim. They broke a crazy amount of our windows. Like, way more than they needed to. What a headache.

DANNY: (to Nardwuar) You have a lot of explaining to do. 

NARDWUAR: I’ve got a gift for you, Daniel! 

Nardwuar pulls out a pack of old Beatles cards. 

DANNY: I don’t want it. 

NARDWUAR: It’s a pack of 1964 Beatles collector’s cards, in mint condition! 

DANNY: Wait, I do want it. 

Danny takes the cards from Nardwuar and looks at them with delight. 

NARDWUAR: You’re a big fan of the Beatles, right? 

DANNY: Oh yeah, I always have been.

JAKE: You’re not seriously continuing this interview. 

DANNY: (while opening and flipping through the pack of cards) I mean, this is a pretty cool gift. 

JAKE: (evidently at his wit’s end) This guy 100% broke into my family’s house, and he for sure did the same to your parents. 

NARDWUAR: Would you say there was a specific Beatles album that most inspired you? 

DANNY: Definitely Rubber Soul. I loved hearing them try folk. 

Jake throws up his hands in exasperation. 

DANNY: Norwegian Wood genuinely changed my life. 

NARDWUAR: In what way? 

JAKE: Nope, we’re not doing this anymore. 

Jake thrusts his finger up into Nardwuar’s face. 

JAKE (continued): What else did you take from us, you son of a bitch? 

NARDWUAR: Does it count as “taking” if I give it back to you? 

JAKE: Yes! 

NARDWUAR: I’d beg to differ. 

DANNY: (looking through his cards) Woah! I’ve never seen this photo of Ringo Starr before! 

Josh comes rushing back to the scene with their bodyguard and pal, RICHARD. 

RICHARD: (scanning around on full alert) Where is he? 

JOSH: (shrill, pointing at Nardwuar) There! 

Nardwuar simply grins at Richard. 

NARDWUAR: Can you tell me about Grubbyknot? 

Richard is obviously thrown off, and he lets down his guard. 

RICHARD: Huh? Grubbyknot? That was my metal band in high school. But we only played like two shows. One was in my parent’s garage. 

JOSH: Don’t let him get into your head, Richard! You’re our big guns, we can’t lose you! 

SAM: Do you have another gift for me, Nardwuar? 

Nardwuar stares at Sam, entirely expressionless. 

NARDWUAR: No, I don’t. Doot doola doot doo…

SAM: Doo-doo? 

Upon Sam’s words, he vanishes into thin air. Jake is so terrified, he falls to the ground and cowers on the floor. 

JAKE: Jesus Christ! 

NARDWUAR: I usually like to speak with only 1-2 people at a time on camera. It’s getting a little bit too crowded for me right now. 

Nardwuar looks at Danny, whose attention is finally away from his cards, and is gawking at the empty space where Sam was just standing. 

NARDWUAR: (continued, making eye contact with Danny) Doot doola doot doo…

Danny stares back at Nardwuar in horror, his mouth sealed shut. Nardwuar sings the little tune again, holding his microphone up to Danny to finish it. 

JAKE: (cutting in) Doo doo! (beat) Fuck! 

Jake disappears. 

JOSH: (explaining to Richard and Danny) He has this condition where he can’t handle hearing an unfinished tune. Poor guy has a curse.

NARDWUAR: Just one more to go. 

Nardwuar focuses his attention back to Danny. 

DANNY: Where did you send them? 

NARDWUAR: To another place. 

DANNY: Super helpful, thanks. 

NARDWUAR: Don’t mention it. 

DANNY: Are they still alive? 

NARDWUAR: I can’t see why not. I’m a fan! I wouldn’t hurt you guys. 

Danny sighs. 

DANNY: Okay. Send me away so I can do some damage control. 

RICHARD: No! 

NARDWUAR: Doot doola doot doo…

DANNY: (unenthused, clapping his hands on the beat) Doo doo.

Danny is gone. 

RICHARD: My boss is gonna kill me. 

JOSH: I’m pretty sure I’m your boss. 

Richard widens his eyes and holds his hands up in a defensive position, backing slowly away from Josh. 

JOSH (continued): Oh, come on. I’m not gonna hurt you, Richard. 

RICHARD: You did dump an entire bag of flour over my head that one time. And kicked that giant chocolate bar in my hands. And swung a folding chair at me backstage. 

JOSH: All tiny, insignificant hiccups.

NARDWUAR: Josh, you’re gonna love this next thing that I’ve got for you. 

JOSH: Please, no. 

Nardwuar hands Josh a Scooby Doo plushie. 

NARDWUAR: Tell me what that is. 

Josh studies the stuffed animal, trying to discern how it has any relevance to him. 

JOSH: Scooby Doo? 

NARDUWAR: What was that second word?

JOSH: Doo?

NARDWUAR: Wait. Say it again? (under his breath) Doot doola doot doo…

JOSH: Doo? 

Nardwuar taps on his ear, signaling that he didn’t hear Josh. Josh huffs and rolls his eyes. 

JOSH (continued, enunciating maybe a little bit too much): Doo! 

Josh disappears. 

NARDWUAR: Well, this has been fun. Keep on rockin’ in the free world and doot doola doot doo…

It’s silent around him since there’s no one there to finish his jingle. Nardwuar continues to grin wider and wider until he’s nearing uncomfortably close to uncanny valley. 

The scene shifts to a confusing plane seemingly everywhere and nowhere at once. A pattern reminiscent of Nardwuar’s red and green plaid Tammy cap stretches from the floor to the sky. Josh and Richard appear in the mysterious space, Josh screaming with terror. 

JAKE: Hey. 

DANNY: Nice of you to join us. 

It takes a while for Josh to collect himself but, when he does, he notices Jake and Danny standing in front of him. 

JOSH: Where’s Sammy? 

DANNY: He went to take a piss. 

RICHARD: Hey, wait, I didn’t say the doo doo thing. Why am I here? 

Josh shrugs. 

JOSH: We must be a package deal or something. 

RICHARD: That’s wildly unfair. 

SAM: (off in the distance) Woah, I had a lot more in my bladder than I thought. I wouldn’t come over here if I were you, guys. I can cross “building a manmade lake” off my bucket list.

JAKE: God, I need to get out of here. 

DANNY: And how are we gonna do that, Jake? 

Jake has no clue. He’s frankly dumbfounded. 

The scene jumps back to Nardwuar, still in front of the records. He seems unaware that the camera is still rolling. 

NARDWUAR: (to someone offscreen) Yeah, yeah. They should be gone for good. Yup. The plaid void, where I sent Dave Rowntree. We should be good to steal their identities now. God knows we’ve done enough research. 

Back in the plaid void. 

DANNY: Holy shit, is that Dave Rowntree?

RICHARD: The guy from Blur? 

DAVE ROWNTREE: CURSE YE FOUL BEAST, NARDWUAR! 

Fin.  

Note: The names/facts listed in the interview within this fic are all entirely fictitious. I'm not about to start leaking private and personal information about the guys.

#greta van fleet #gvf #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #richard #nardwuar #the human serviette

[incomingalbatross]

Finished my first week (I don't go in on Fridays) of Commute Listening! (Plus a day technically because I did have to go in last Saturday.)

Here's the summary of the undertaking so far...and of just how much car/public transit time I've logged:

Bach's Brandenburg Concertos 1-6 My beloveds--the only classical music that IS for sure on my faves list, because in the period when I had a CD player in my bedroom and about three CDs, these were two of them. Still not sure how well I could identify them, but I recognized them once they started playing and greatly enjoyed them.

Artifexian podcast ep 1. Interesting! All about worldbuilding. Just far enough removed from my own interests (yes I love fantasy, no I don't enjoy worldbuilding, it took me years to process that) that I can listen as, like, a spectator, but also listening to two people who do love worldbuilding makes me feel more positive about it. Like the energy.

Several Masses by Haydn (St. Cecilia, Mass in B flat, Mass in honor of the Blessed Virgin). Beautiful, obviously, but... did not grab me. Might just be that Masses and commuting are not the right combination. Might be my chant-inclined mind going "you're drawing out the words too much." Idk.

Art of Manliness ep 1, about Easy Company. INteresting and informative—a window into a subject I wouldn't have sought out on my own.

Out Alive ep 1. About a skier buried in an avalanche! Again, not something I would have sought out myself, but hearing the skier and the other people involved talk about the impact of a crisis situation and near-death experience, without any polish or dramatization... oof. Really interesting.

Reply All Billed as a "podcast about the internet," the first ep was about a social situation enabled by the internet. Also interesting as a window into someone else's personal experience that I don't think you'd quite get in any other medium than this unpolished interview format. This time about relationships instead of death, though.

In the Wind (album) by Peter, Paul and Mary. Branching aside from classical for some folk, since I was in the headspace for something between podcasts and instrumentals. Good! I recognized several of the songs but definitely not all. They also reminded me of several other country and folk artists I could listen to if I want to keep going down that road, in addition to listening to more of their work.

Vivaldi Concertos for Diverse Instruments GOOD. I loved these! They got stuck in my head afterward! Definitely want to try more Vivaldi. Also reinforcing my theory that any kind of music is good music if it involves violins going wild.

Mozart Violin Concertos 3-5 ALSO very very good. And I think I could hear the cleaner/plainer sound of Mozart as opposed to the baroque I'd just been listening to.

My Writing Sucks podcast ep 1, in which an author lovingly roasts her 14-year-old self's writing. Very fun. Endearing. Kinda makes me want to pull out my oldest, worst writing and approach it from an outside perspective, which I think would be Growth if my fragile ego could actually follow through on that. :P Maybe after a few more episodes of this.

Pints With Aquinas episode 1. This is an introductory episode giving background on Aquinas, as opposed to later episodes which will have more actual theology. Already good, though. Little harder for me to stay focused than some of the more fun ones, but I'll be coming back.

Classics for Kids Short and educational segment about classical music. Definitely told me things I don't know! A little short and a little flat in delivery for my needs, but good stuff.

Stuff You Missed in History Class ep 1. Interesting, but same issue as the above—it was just short. I need to check if episode length varies, and if they're all short I might load up six or so at once to give it a better trial. It was interesting but I couldn't get much flavor from one segment.

In conclusion, this project is definitely a success so far. I've been enjoying my commutes even when there's traffic, and I feel like I'm taking in things that I enjoy and are constructive in some way! It's fun for me. And I have a bunch of podcasts in store for next week that I haven't even touched yet.

[theanonymousopossum]

The Threads that Bind Us Part 3

@siriusleee It's here! Part 3 has arrived, and Elain and Azriel have officially met. Hope you love it!

TW: none

The sound of music filled the air, and the party was in full swing. Despite their apparent hostility towards the king, most of the kingdom had shown up for the party, wearing whatever the nicest thing they owned was. As such, there was a range from formal suits to overalls with only a few mud stains. 

Azriel’s doulon had quickly briefed him on the course of the evening: all the guests would arrive, then would come the king and Princess Elain, dancing would occur, and then would come the banquet for the nobles and important personnel. Small trays piled high with small snacks were dotted around the edges of the room already, but apparently an entire feast had been planned afterwards, though only for the wealthy, at which point the king would give a speech in honour of his daughter, and then the guests were free to mingle as they pleased.

As honoured guests of the king, Azriel and the other men were provided with the formal attire they would need, as well as permissions to attend the banquet and afterparty. Dancing couples floated around the room, spinning and swaying to the sound of the violins playing a classic dancing song.

Azriel knew how to dance, given that his profession often required him to infiltrate very elegant settings, though he did not prefer to, and as such, he was hanging around the sides of the room, seeing if he could pick up on any important fragments of conversation.

So far his efforts had yielded nothing promising, only some vague palace gossip from the wealthy folk and complaints about harvest from the lower classes. 

Azriel took a few steps backwards, intending to make another sweep, when he walked directly into someone behind him.

The person stumbled, and Azriel quickly reached out his hand to steady her. A noble, based on the dress she was wearing, though which one he couldn’t place until-

As the young woman looked up into his eyes, he realized he had accidentally crashed into Princess Elain, whom he presumed had been trying to escape the ball without being caught. 

“My lady,” he said, bowing slightly, “my deepest apologies. I didn’t see you there.”

“Not at all,” she responded with a smile, accepting his proffered hand, “in fact, you were just the man I was hoping to speak with.”

Not trying to escape, then. Though why on earth was she speaking to him?

“What may I do for you, my lady?” he said, polite but with an air of confusion.

“You are aware of the monster that has been ravaging our cities?” she asked him.

“I am, lady. I was under the impression that our task would be to defeat this monster.”

“Yes. So far, all whom my father has sent to destroy it have failed. However, the gods have spoken to me. I believe it is you who will be able to lift my curse, and be able to defeat the Archetaur. However, you will not be able to do it without my help.”

Azriel’s mind was spinning. This was not at all what he had anticipated when he came down here into the ball. But the princess was offering him aid, and from all he could calculate, her offer was genuine. The part that stuck out to him was the part about a curse. 

Stories of Princess Elain had of course floated around all the islands, most claiming her a shy, beautiful girl who kept largely to herself. Azriel was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to her than met the eye. So he decided to take a chance.

“You honour me, princess, with your confident words. Perhaps you would honour me further with a dance? I wish to know more about your curse, and about what it is that I must do,” he said, with a stoke of boldness. He hadn’t planned on asking her to dance, but as a smile graced her beautiful mouth, some tiny, irrational part of him would die to see her smile like that again.

“I would be delighted,” she said, and he led her out to the dance floor.

—---------------

Elain was very satisfied with herself. Having attracted the attention of the man-Azriel, she had learned- and having successfully said her piece, she was delighted that he was at least considering her help.

As she had rested before the ball, a dream had come to her. A man with dark skin, dark hair, and dressed in a white toga had spoken to her. His face was regal, but he spoke kindly to her.

“Elain,” he had said, “Elain my child. You have suffered much for a crime that you did not commit. Take heart, girl, for the favour of the gods is with you. There is a way your curse may be broken. The man that you have seen shall break your curse, if he should choose to accept your help. Trap the creature within its lair, and give him this. He will know what to do with it when the time is right.”

As soon as he finished, he pulled out of thin air a ball of what appeared to be soft yarn, golden in colour. She took it hesitantly.

“Good luck, child. Flee this island if your curse is broken. Flee, and do not look back.”

With all that said, the man in white vanished, and Elain awoke, confused about her dream. In her hand rested the yarn that had been given to her. 

She took this as confirmation that whomever it was that she had spoken with, the man really was a god, and Elain know firsthand the consequences of angering a god. Besides, it wasn’t like she had much other option than to trust him.

With Azriel’s hand in hers, they swept out onto the dance floor, and for once the princess felt completely unbothered by the eyes that tracked her every movement. No longer were they foxes chasing a young dove. Elain was strong, and if everyone in this palace was too useless to break the curse, then she would just have to do it herself.

A/N: Thus concludes Part 3. Next chapter will be dance scene, and some more information on how exactly Azriel will be fighting this monster. Let me know what you think, I love comments from everyone!

#elriel fanfiction #elriel #theanonymousopossum #the threads that bind us #elain x azriel #pro elriel

[scotianostra]

November 13th 1850 saw the birth of Robert Louis Stevenson in Edinburgh.

As the author of such classics as Treasure Island, Kidnapped and The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Stevenson is known the world over, instead of reeling off the usual facts about the life of the man I thought I would dig up some facts that are not so well known.

When Stevenson first wrote Treasure Island, he submitted his stories under nom-de-plume of Captain George North to a children's periodical called Young Folks.

He may have invented the sleeping bag; according to the Stevenson House website: "R.L.S. has a good claim to be the inventor of the Sleeping Bag, taking a large fleece-lined sack with him to sleep in on the journey through France described in his book Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes." For the record, his six-foot square sleeping sack was made of "green waterproof cart-cloth without and blue sheep's fur within".

Stevenson collected corselets (a sort of protective girdle) and was particularly proud of his ones from the Gilbert Island, which were designed to offer effective protection against sharks’ teeth weapons, throwing spears and European knives and bayonets. They were made of coconut fibre and decorated with human hair. They were given to him by King Tembinoka, the Tyrant of the Island of Apemama.

He had wooden teeth, when he was living in America in 1878 and pursuing the unhappily married Fanny Vandegrift Osbourne - a woman 11 years his senior - Stevenson lived in San Francisco's Chinatown. He was lonely and in poor health and while in Tubbs Hotel he had trouble with a bleeding mouth and rotten teeth. A local dentist removed all his teeth and fitted him with false wooden replacements. He married Fanny shortly afterwards.

As well as a writer, he was also a keen musician and composer, Stevenson played the piano and flageolet and wrote more than 100 original musical compositions and arrangements, including solos, duets, trios and quartet. His works include ten songs written to his own poetry.

He burnt the first draft of Jekyll & Hyde, the story was promoted by a dream he had while in Bournemouth of a "fine bogey tale", was written around the same time as Kidnapped and was partly based on Deacon Brodie, the 18th-century Edinburgh cabinetmaker. His wife Fanny complained that he had not made the allegory strong enough and he tossed the 30,000 word manuscript into the fire. Then in "a white heat", using a quill pen and ink pot, he stayed in bed for three days and wrote a new version. He would later claim that it was the worst thing he ever wrote but The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde sold 40,000 copies in its first six months on sale in 1886.

Long John Silver stayed at the Royal Infirmary. Treasure Island character Long John Silver was based on poet WE Henley, who RLS frequently visited at the Royal Infirmary. Henley suffered from tuberculosis of the bone and acquired a wooden leg after having his left leg amputated in 1868.

He left a number of books unfinished before his untimely death in Samoa on December 3rd 1894. Reports at the time said he had died of "apoplexy" due to the heat. It was also described as a stroke and a cerebral haemorrhage brought on by straining to opening a jar of mayonnaise. Or a bottle of wine. No one is sure. He was only 44.

Stevenson was buried in a grand ceremony on Mount Vaea, Upolu and his tomb is inscribed with the words: “Home is the sailor, home from the sea,/And the hunter home from the hill.” On the day he died he had been dictating words for his unfinished novel The Chief Justice's Clerk. He also left behind an uncompleted novel called St Ives (the story of a French prisoner who made his escape from Edinburgh Castle), The Young Chevalier, Heathercat and Weir of Hermiston.

Stevenson wrote his own inscription on his grave, the full verse reads...

Under the wide and starry sky,

Dig the grave and let me lie.

Glad did I live and gladly die

,And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:

Here he lies where he longed to be;

Home is the sailor, home from sea,

And the hunter home from the hill.

#scotland #scottish #history #edinburgh #literature #Makar #Poet #Writer

[ask-de-writer]

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to CLASSICAL FANTASIES

THE FISHERMAN'S LEG (Part 15 of 20)

A sequel to Dee 1/2 Demon

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

16914 words (work in progress)

© 2023 by Glen Ten-Eyck

All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

TUMBLR EXEMPTION

Blog holding members of Tumblr.com may freely reblog this story provided that the title, author and copyright information remain intact, unaltered, and are displayed at the head of the story.

Fan art, stories, music, cosplay and other fan activity is actively encouraged.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

New to the story? Read from the beginning HERE.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Minami, Ichuru's body in his arms, began to stride determinedly along the street toward the Shop of Repairs. Tanira was about to try stopping him but Magistrate Lim prevented her with a silent raised hand.

Brow knitted in puzzlement she backed away. Bobbing his head in a bow while walking, he whispered to her, “He is greatly distraught. Folk who are so upset often reveal more than they intend. He has already let me have one thing that he has never let out before this.”

Minara overheard and quietly took Takahara aside to explain.

Nodding thoughtfully, she followed along.

Minami stopped just outside the door of the Shop of Repairs and cried out, “Murderers! You must restore life to my son! You have to undo your evil act!”

Dee looked up from her anvil where she was working on a set of kitchen knives. Her clear inner eyelids slid up over her golden, snake like eyes. She simply shook her head, her usually slowly undulating flame orange hair slowed.

“That is something that no mortal being can do, Minami,” she hesitated before adding, “san. He has been drowned and dead for hours. Only necromancy could bring him back and that is unlawful Sorcery.”

“So is murder! That gives you no trouble at all, does it Monster? I have seen you and your six evil witches do it with my own eyes!”

Patsu made a comic stare about the Shop, shading her eyes with a hand. “We seem to be a bit short of evil witches here. Mind explaining where the others are?”

Satsuna set aside the leather wet weather boot that she was repairing to step up close and take a look at Ichuru's body. Her face pinched in puzzlement, she asked, “Why was he not wearing his floats? When he fell in while playing the straps made marks in his clothes that would last until they were dried out. There are no strap marks on these clothes.”

Minami gave no bow at all as he snapped, “He needed no floats! All that he had to do was stay in the boat to be safe! Your evil magics toppled him into the sea to drown!”

Miko had put aside the calligraphy that she had been working on and stepped close, shaking her head. “Minami san, that makes no sense at all. Even if it were true, which it is not, you had what? Four or five men besides yourself in the boat, of whom at least four could swim. Even without his floats, any of you could have easily extended a pole, like a boat hook for him to grasp. Failing that, a swimmer could have gone in and pulled him out.

“Why would you ignore him at all? When any child is in any boat, you must pay attention to them. It is a basic safety precaution.”

Before Minami could retort, Magistrat Lim intervened. Bowing politely, he stated firmly, “This has gone far enough. My good Constables, Canra san and Horichi san will take Ichuru to the Temple of Two Trees to be prepared for cremation.

“You, Minami san, and you young ladies of the Shop of Repairs must all come with me to the Tribunal. There we shall hold a proper Inquiry into this distressing situation that has resulted in the death of Ichuru san.”

The whole lot trooped up Sabo's tidy streets to the Tribunal. After all had taken their places, kneeling before the Magistrate, he laid his sword across the black lacquered table that he knelt behind.

He signaled with his hand, saying, “Miko san, I wish you to keep the record of this Inquiry.”

She took her place, taking from a drawer in her table the inkstone, brushes, Tribunal Chop and paper needed for the record.

Dipping her brush in a small cup of water, she wiped it on the inkstone and sat ready. “What shall I write?”

The Magistrate replied, “Seal the upper right corner of each page and title it INQUIRY INTO THE DEATH BY DROWNING OF ICHURU SAN, aged ten years.”

He composed himself carefully and went on, “These are known facts. More may be found later but we must begin with what is known and proved. First, Minami san, sentenced to a moon at labor on the Roads of this Province, escaped after only two weeks of his sentence. Second, Minami san engaged crewmen who were used in the theft of the boat Sea Lion.”

Minami started to object but remembered in time to raise a finger and bow. “The Sea Lion is my boat! I cannot steal what is mine!”

Magistrate Lim quietly raised his hand. “You owe a great deal of money to your crew. They took out the Lein on it. The Tribunal holds the ownership and the crew has full rights as owners until the whole of the Lein is paid. Only then will you own the Sea Lion again. The taking of it without the permission of her proper crew is theft.”

Exasperated, he inquired of Miko, “Did you get all of that?”

She bowed politely and replied, “Every word and who said it.”

“Good. Thirdly, Minami san abducted Icchuru san from his home and the custody of his mother.”

He interrupted himself to explain, “The Order of Protection served to you, forbids approach to the house, Fish Market or the persons of Tanira san and Ichuru san. The violation of that order makes taking him an abduction.”

The Magistrate took an exasperated breath and added, “Fourth, entering the Fish Market and taking Ichuru's floats and his toy boat. It is known that he would not enter a boat without wearing the floats.

“Fifth, you took the Sea Lion to the fishing grounds.

“Sixth, his floats were found neatly folded and dry when you returned. His clothes showed no sign of the float straps and were deeply soaked. Two of the men with you were also soaked.

“Seventh, and last for now, you accused Dee san and her friends of murdering him.

“His body was sent to the Temple of Two Trees to be examined for any sign of witchcraft or Sorcery before being prepared for cremation. High Priest Nandi san will do that and we shall have his report in person soon.”

To be Continued

<==PREVIOUS ~~ NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

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#THE FISHERMAN'S LEG #Part 15 of ? #Classical Fantasy #sequel to DEE 1/2 DEMON #WORK IN PROGRESS #Written by De Writer

[mrcatfishing]

Tagged by @fipindustries to post my playlist, and I much like her do not curate my playlists and instead listen to stuff semi-algorithmically. So here's the first 10 songs of my Supermix.

Life of Adventure, from Dwarf Fortress Adventure Mode, by Dabu and Simon Swerwer. I tend to prefer videogame soundtracks when writing, as any kind of lyrics interrupt my flow of thought severely. The acoustic guitar of the classic Dwarf Fortress soundtrack is beautifully accompanied by a full orchestration that blocks out all distraction.

Beautiful Mind, by Tom Cardy & Brian David Gilbert. When I do listen to music with lyrics, I much prefer them to be narrative centred rather than emotionally centred. Tom Cardy is one of the best for this style of comedic-narrative music, and BDG is another favourite of mine for his podcast Let's Make a Music, which sadly only uploads their songs to Bandcamp, making it hard to integrate into my playlists.

HEART CONNECT, by Cute Girls Doing Cute Things. Mindless electronic music makes up another solid portion of music for when I need to focus on something I'm working on, though this kind of harsher pumping music is usually for physical activities, rather than mental ones. While I recognise this song very well, before right now I knew neither its name nor the artist.

Strike The Earth!, from Dwarf Fortress, by Dabu and Simon Swerwer. Another DF song, the entire OST really strikes a delicate balance hitting all of my preferences: Bardcore, Acoustic Instruments, and Videogame OSTs.

Soldier, Poet, King, bardcore cover by Hildegard von Blingin'. I said I was a fool for Bardcore, and that absolutely includes covers by the wonderful Hildegard von Blingin'. Seeing that she got to do a song for the latest Crusader Kings expansion was a delightful surprise to be sure.

The World Revolving, cover by NRMN, Blood Code & GameChops. Feel free to put me in the penis box, but I absolutely adore Undertale music. I also love the electronic covers of GameChops and QUMU, which is the latest form my long standing OCRemix obession from a decade ago has taken.

To Hell and Back, by Sabaton. On the far end from the narrative music of Tom Cardy, Sabaton and other power-metal bands like Dragonforce make up songs that I listen to during the morning commute. These lyrical songs also have their fair share of narrative focus, but I'm really hear for the deafening volume to activate my brain and work up my adrenaline.

Bones in the Ocean (Remixed), by The Longest Johns. These shanties and folk songs soothe me to sleep. When I need to hear something with just enough words to latch my mind onto a rhythm without spinning my brain in circles or waking it up with adrenaline, I pop on some Longest Johns or Great Big Sea, and let myself drift away.

The Bannered Mare, from Skyrim, by Jeremy Soule. The Skyrim OST has a special kind of nostalgia, pulling me back over a decade, to playing the original Xbox 360 release on a tiny CRT television that cut off the top and bottom of the screen. I didn't know this of course, so it was only months into my playing the game that I learned most people saw a compass at the top and their healthbar along the bottom.

Unreal, by Kensabeast & GlitchxCity. This is the kind of music I listen to when I need to both focus and relax. Perfect for painting or sculpting, I can pop on some soothing albums by QUMU or GlitchxCity and just zone out.

I think that gives a reasonable overview of my music taste without terribly exposing myself to the mortifying ordeal of being known. I'll tag the last few mutuals in my activity feed, and anyone else interested can feel free to give this a shot too. @theothin @obbsessivebookworm @therandominternetperson

#my stuff #tag game

[newsie-collective]

Tommy Boy

Hi I know that technically Specs and Tommy tied But I didn't want to make any of y'all to wait any longer I'm so sorry to that one specific person who always reblogs our polls with Specs hype

T/W for transphobia & Refuge talk below the break

Quickfire Favorites

Food: “Pepp’mints! Really like the sof’ ones.”

Color: “Yella. Like the sun. N sunflowers.”

Season: “I don’ have a pa’ticler favorite season.”

Weather: “Sunny. I like sunny days ‘cos then I get to walk ‘round an’ hawk wit’ me fellas.”

Hobby: “Jacobi le’me help in the kitchen once. That was real fun. Wish he woul’ le’me do it again.”

Animal: “Do Blink count? I’on think I knows ‘nough animals to have a favorite.”

Memory: “Movin’ to Manhattan. Ev’ryone was real nice. Finch was gon’ fight ev’ryone that ain’t get my gender right.”

Comfort Item: “I don’t really got one. Ain’t never really had nothin’ to keep.”

Buckle up folks, this one’s real fucked up

Tommy Boy pretends to hate his nickname but it makes him feel fluttery inside. He rolls his eyes and groans and shoves Finch every time he says Tommy Boy/my main man/my home boy/anything else with boy or man. But it makes him giddy and excited

Because he’s a boy

And he knows all the others would fight for him

And that makes him feel real nice

Only knows how to solve things with his fist (but he and Albert are learning together)

He’s also still learning how to take compassion from the newsies. And how to not flinch when the others go to high five or hug him

Because non pain inducing hands on him is weird

He puts his hands in his pockets because he’s scared of hurting his friends or scaring them

He tells everyone it’s so he doesn’t get pickpocketed

Surprisingly good at cooking

Honestly dumb as fuck

Like most of the newsies have either street or book smarts

Tommy has neither

Puts the sexy in dyslexia

Thinks he can do no wrong

Not in a pretentious way 

In a “I just learned I had dyslexia, something I’ve been angry about my whole life, but when someone explained what it was to me, it doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s just a part of me and that’s neat” like a psychopath

Just kinda very aware of the fact that no one is made perfectly, and has come to terms with that

Likes to pull pranks

No longer dumb enough to pull them on Elmer or Davey 

Because they always know

And they know where he hides

And that’s not fair

He’s an angry crier. And he hates it. He hates crying, it makes him feel weaker than he already does when his emotions get the better of him

When he’s only a little mad, he yells to try and feel bigger (it’s a defense mechanism), if it gets worse he starts crying (even though he tries and fights it), and if it keeps getting worse he starts hitting things (he usually turns his anger to trees or punching bags. Inanimate objects. He doesn’t like hurting people), but it’s when he goes silent that’s the scariest. Because no one can tell what he’s thinking or what’s gonna happen. And he just stews in it

Loves music. Prefers music without words, but hates classical music.

When he gets affectionate, he likes holding people (and by people I mean Mush and Specs and Blink and occasionally Finch) but when he gets real deep in his head he needs to be held and his hair played with and just told that everything’s gonna be okay. His head is a dark fucking place. And he sometimes needs help finding his way out.

Jojo used to attack him with cuddles and hugs when he’d get too wound up

That earned Jojo several black eyes when they were first happening

“I love you Tommy Boy”

“Fuck you”

Flirty comments come easy to him. Except when it comes to his partners. They make him so nervous

Was really wary of Les and Davey hanging around, because they felt like outsiders, but Les once roasted Morris so hard that Tommy laughed for at least half an hour. He stayed close to Les when the brothers would come around.

He didn't wanna miss anything else the kid said.

Originally from Brooklyn, but they were too rowdy and angry, he kept getting triggered into panic attacks (and also a few of them kept deadnaming and misgendering him) so he moved to Manhattan

Most of the newsies that don’t know him are intimidated. 

“That’s Tommy from Brooklyn… I hear they kicked him ‘cross the bridge because he was too wild for even Spot Conlon”

Doesn’t care about the rumors. He’s okay with intimidating the people he doesn’t know.

Real fucked up backstory shit:

His birth name was Tamsyn, and he had a twin brother named Thomas. 

His brother was the first person he’d told about feeling more like a boy than a girl. And Thomas was so supportive of him. 

And one day, Thomas disappeared. 

Tommy’s dad wouldn’t tell him what happened, just that Tommy didn’t have a brother anymore. 

And Tommy knew that he was in danger. And he ran away. He stole some clothes to blend in with the newsboys on the street, got sent to the Refuge for three months, where he was kept in the feminine section of the prison.

Tommy was originally sentenced to one month, but he fought against Snyder when he tried to take Bumlets away, once he realized what was happening.

He stood up for others in the Refuge who were getting bullied and abused by Snyder.

He ended up at the Brooklyn boarding house not long after his release. He’d gotten tougher and buff while in the Refuge, and he’d finally gotten some clothes to wear (and keep)

Not many of them were too kind about his transition. Spot had only just become a leader for the boys, and was still trying to get his regime under control. Hotshot was one of the kindest to him, and one of the few he told about leaving.

Spot, Hotshot, and Swipe were the only three he told.

He crossed the bridge to Manhattan, talking to Kloppman about everything that had happened, and moved in that same night. 

He adopted his brother’s name in honor of him, but the others thought Thomas was too hoity toity for a newsie, so they called him Tommy. 

And then he told them that he hadn’t always been a boy, and that’s why he got called Tamsyn and she a lot. 

And so Finch starts his crusade to get everyone to call him Tommy Boy.

I hope y'all loved reading that as much as I loved writing it

Please no one mention how it's been not even a week and we already messed up our timing again

👻

#newsies #92sies #askthenewsies #carrying the banner #newsies of new york #livesies #king of new york #tommy boy #tommy boy newsies #👻

[sterlester]

#DoctorDonnathon Part 2 - A Tangential Talk On Expectations

    Today is Thursday 2nd November. Tales from the TARDIS debuted yesterday, alongside nearly all of classic Who on iPlayer for the first time, and the latest SFX magazine has really got my excitement bubbling. Not that I haven't been actively counting down to November 23rd all year - I don't have a lot going on clearly. Or maybe Doctor Who just means that much to people. Either way, excitement is going from a consistent simmer towards boiling point. Part of my enthusiasm is driving me to believe there may be more to expect at this #DoctorDonnathon, maybe a recorded message from RTD or a preview of the Blu Ray exclusive conversation between DT and RTD, but I feel I'm getting ahead of myself. This screening will be of Series Four (plus The Runaway Bride), and that is more than enough. 

    I tend to get ahead of myself often. Always anticipating something truly extraordinary out of the ordinary. I went to see the Pixar Orchestra nearly 10 years ago at the Eden Project here in Cornwall, and there was talk of dinosaurs featuring - I interpreted this as possibility of a preview of the music from the then-upcoming The Good Dinosaur, only to be humbled at the visuals of Rex from Toy Story being shown on screen. Likewise with the release of hashtags alongside the public filming of these upcoming specials, I (alongside a few enthusiastic fans) wrongly suspected that on the heels of DT & CT's announcement to expect two hearts and a bowtie to be shared, only for the equally humbling yet intriguing reveals of NPH and YF as players in the episodes. This instinct to hope for the best is not a bad thing, but I'm learning it can lessen the impact of genuine surprises and maybe should be averted. I had a very recent example of this last week.

    One of my other non-Whovian interests is Dungeons and Dragons - I run a Star Wars-themed game and play in a fantasy game regularly (my notes for this campaign just crossed 100,000 words last night!) Part and parcel with this interest is following the adventures of the nerdy voice actors of Critical Role, whose live-streamed ongoing campaigns have lead to the creation of two Amazon animated shows to name but a few of their incredible accomplishments. I was lucky enough to secure tickets for me and my D&D party to see them live in London last week, and the show was amazing. I went in with a great sense of mystery, with no knowledge of the show's content other than knowing the characters and the rough situational context, and was blown away by the story that unravelled before us. But that was not the event that shattered my expectations of the trip - I was walking through London with my friends the day after the show, still reeling from the revelations as we went shopping for jelly beans and trinkets. We'd humoured the idea that we may bump into one of the cast members in the city, being naive little Cornish folk who see everywhere through the lens of Cornish village life where you can't go a minute without being stopped by someone who knows you or your family. So consider our shock when we bumped directly into DM extraordinaire and the incredible player Matthew Mercer and Marisha Ray. I thank my lucky stars that not only did my poor navigational skills accidentally put us in the right place at the right time, but also that my best mate was a lot more present and composed that I was. Thankfully the two were humble, generous, kind and simply as wonderful a people as you could hope for, and took the time to talk to us and even offer to have a photo with us. We apologised for inconveniencing them before letting them go (and before we crumpled into a messy pile of sweat and disbelief). 

    This was exactly a week ago as of this writing, and I still genuinely don't believe that it happened. And this is the point of this ramble - I went in with the mildest expectation, humouring the possibility but only in jest, and when the fates aligned and decided to bless me and my friends with a cartoonish accidental bumping into our heroes, the fact it was so unreal and unexpected made it so much more worth it. With that in mind, I need to go into this knowing what to expect. I have seen every episode I'm about to watch on Saturday many, many times. I've thought about this Series so much, holding it as a benchmark for other series' to aspirationally meet and exceed. By expecting more, I feel I will tarnish this experience - and why would I want that when I know how much of a joy it will be to watch with my fellow fans?

    Long story short - I am excited for this month of Who mania, ready to revisit this incredible series in this viewing, and ready to begin this journey as soon as- HOLD ON TOMORROW IS THE 3RD?! OH GOD I NEED TO GET PACKING!!!

Cornish TARDIS #DoctorDonnathon

(Picture from last week bumping into Matthew Mercer and Marisha Ray - thank you so much for your kindness, taking the time to speak with us and have a photo! And apologies for my inability to speak or react beyond shaking hands and being completely incoherent.)

#doctordonnathon #doctor who #critical role #matthew mercer #marisha ray

[tetsunabouquet]

Because @evelhak said she'd be interested in hearing Dutch parodies and funny folk songs, I will hereby share some of our funny music. First up, we have some classics of musical parodies in Dutch.

This is a lyric video to a famous Dutch parody on Basshunter's Boten Anna. It's very nostalgic to me because of how it is low-key jumpstyle and that was such a dance craze when I was growing up.

The aforementioned parody that reframes the Dutch love song, 'Ademloos' (breathless) to be about a frustrated mistress who is fed up with her lover and just wants him to go back to his wife. Waardeloos means worthless, and throughout the song they roast him including an entire bridge just comprised of words ending with 'loos' such as hopeloos (hopeless) and smakeloos (tasteless). I am willing to bet my money Izuki Shun from KNB and Joco from Shaman King would appreciate this bridge. It is sung by three Dutch drag queens, which gives this song a layer of gay to. (I wanted to share the video to a more recent parody that got quite big, which is Ponkers doing Justin Bieber's Sorry but it is age restricted. IDK why, perhaps it is the Justin persona having sung about accidentally killing Selena's Gomez cat that he pretends to bury at the beach and touching on the disturbing cut 4 Bieber thing). Some funny Dutch folk songs:

The aforementioned song about the woman who loses her panties at the pub which she suspects to be stolen by the owner and she laments how cold her ass is. (Cor is Toos' husband who plays the accordion, before anyone wonders wtf the dude is as only the woman sings) (also, considering the name appeared twice, to anyone wondering how to pronounce 'Toos', it is like 'Toast' but without the t at the end)

Sung by Connie Schouman, this is 'Een Beetje Geld Voor Een Beetje Liefde' meaning 'A Little Bit of Money For A Little Bit Of Love'. This comes from a collection of Dutch old dirty songs. Obviously from the song's title, this song is about a prostitute with lyrics such as 'Wanneer je me zoekt, ik zit in de yab-yum, verdien dan mijn boterham met mijn tum-tum' which means, 'When you are looking for me, I am at the Yab Yum, where I earn my money with my tum-tum. ' I love that rhyme so much. (Yab Yum was an old famous brothel and tum-tum are Dutch candy produced by Lemco. They're especially popular during winter season with bags of Dutch holiday candy such as pepernoten mixed with tum tums. Tum tum gummies are my 2nd favorite type of gummies in the world and minor confession time, but when I wrote in that one headcanong of Murasakibara getting addicted to cannabis candy as an young adult I felt that because cannabis based tum tums are my fucking kryptonite).

This is a little less folk but it is a comedic song sung by famous Dutch comedian, actor and singer Wim Sonneveld. He is regarded as one of the big 3 of the Dutch cabaret after the WWII period. Tiny bit of trivia, but my grandmother loved this song and named my mom after it. So every time I listen to this song I am grinning at the lyrics with warmth because Margootje's stubborn and silly nature does reflect on my mom.

#dutch music #funny music #parody music #classic dutch comedy #Hereby I introduce to the gays to the world of Dutch drag queen music #It's not just the English speakers who sing in drag #Youtube

[siena-sevenwits]

My first year using Spotfiy as my music source of choice. My Wrapped playlist is a little wonky, because I have tended to use the app for discovering new music rather than replaying loved songs. Not much classical or instrumental or hymnody on this list, because I tend to put them on shuffle without catching the names of the tunes so that I can return to them. And some of the top songs are there because I was fine-tuning a playlist inspired by someone else's writing or because I was DJ'ing a dance, and my brain makes playlist decisions only by hearing the songs a million times. But if I filter those out and I look at the ones where I kept going back to them because I loved them and needed more of the them throughout the year, here are some of the top picks on the list. They tend to be pop and folk.

"King of the World" by Young Rising Sons

"I was a stranger, held my hand to my eyes Blindly walking on a street full of lies But I found truth buried deep inside of my bones."

This one is so hopeful and adventurous and bursting with life! So victorious and motivating.

2. "We'll Meet Again" by TheFatRat and Laura Brehm

"The oak tree where I met you And the writing on the statue I still remember every word you said..."

This song is really a leftover from a difficult time last year when I ended up instilling this song with the hope I needed to get through. It remains a favourite, and a reminder that we made it to the other side.

3. "Inventor's Daughter" by Branches

"And she is like a stick laid down And a white flag torn from a wedding gown..."

The lyrics in this song blow me away with their poetry. I started to like this song by association with a couple of fictional characters, but now I enjoy it so much better letting it stand alone on its own merits, and the Inventor's Daughter and the Beggar's Son join the cast of stories in my mind.

4. "Hoist Up the Thing" by the Longest Johns

"Fresh out of college with grades straight from Hell I browsed for a trade at which I could excel An ad for a ship in need of some manning Men, sails, and purpose, but lacking a captain..."

It's good fun. Not necessarily a true favourite, but of the type that if it turns on I won't stop it. This is what I get for turning to that random Monkey Island playlist I found when I want something cheerful but am not sure what. Feels a bit like @fictionadventurer's imaginary book rec for Mercator Must Walk the Plank crossed with the Arrogant Worms.

5. "Oak and Ash and Thorn" by the Longest Johns

"Elm, she hates mankind and waits, 'til every gust be laid To drop a limb on the head of him that anyway trusts her shade But whether a lad be sober or sad, or mellow with ale from the horn He'll take no wrong when he lyeth along 'neath Oak, and Ash, and Thorn."

Ah, a Longest Johns song I can really respect. This one has good bones.

6. "Be Somebody" by Boyce Avenue

"So please Be somebody with me If you feel like running The grass is greener inside your heart And I'll be there if it falls apart Love who you're becoming Sometimes we win but sometimes we fold Story still remains untold"

Found this one while listening to a favourite playlist by @telthor and it became one of my "doing the dishes" songs, then I put it on the dance playlist for my sister's wedding. Love it.

7. "King of Anything" by Sarah Bareilles (Strings version)

"Let me hold your crown, babe."

I have been familiar with the original version of the song a long time, but something about the strings version made it that much more reminiscent of my two novel protagonists.

8. "Shine" by Vienna Teng

"Shine with all the untold Hold the light given unto you Find the love to unfold In this broken world we choose"

When I asked for secular advent recs last week, and @valiantarcher suggested this one, it made me smile, because it was one of my most loved songs of the past year (though I didn't realize it was one of my top played!) Gentle and so, so good.

9. "Like Real People Do" by Hozier

"What did you bury Before those hands pulled me From the earth?"

Didn't think I liked Hozier till I heard this song. Still haven't looked into him much, but this was a winner.

10. "Runaway" by Aurora (piano acoustic version)

"And all this time I have been lyin' Oh, lyin' in secret to myself I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf La-di-da..."

The song itself is overplayed. But it's a good good song, and hearing this version breathed new life in it. Her voice is fascinating.

#spotify wrapped #top ten #music

[heartspurgatorio]

Sweet Cap'n Cakes Headcanons: Cap'n

Here's part two of the headcanon dump!

“Is he supposed to have five fingers?” No, actually. Although probably the newest out of the three in terms of model, his system is full of a large array of bugs and glitches, and his fingers are just one of those extra quirks!

His shades are in fact prescription shades, one of his various bugs that he just can’t seem to get rid of is his nearsightedness, but he hates wearing regular glasses. He does have a pair of regular ones, but he only wears them for emergencies, and even then sometimes he’d rather just have to deal with blurry vision.

Kind of a slacker in terms of actually getting work done, but when he gets serious he’s fully capable of pulling his own weight, and tries not to get too carried away in terms of his recklessness.

Deals with most of the business-y side of being in a band, one of the reasons that he considered himself the leader. It’s usually his job to promote the band without being spotted by Queen, and he’s a naturally smooth marketer! (Although sometimes he can be a tad cheesy.) Although it’s harder nowadays to find venues for rebel bands, he does his absolute best to make sure Sweet Cap’n Cakes get off the ground!

Cap’n’s favorite type of music? Pop and rap songs! Although he doesn’t have a genre he dislikes (in fact he enjoys practically everything), the latest hottest song at the moment will usually be what he’ll listen to at any given time! Catchy lyrics and peppy beats will usually be playing in his headphones, although on occasion you’ll find him listening to some folk or lo-fi while he’s trying to work.

Texts in all lowercase, will deliberately turn off auto-capitalization to do so. He’s also the one to use the most slang when talking, as well as the badly-pronounced French. Sometimes it’s even a little hard to understand what he’s saying when he’s using both at once! (“C’est la vie innit bruv?” /j)

Absolutely shreds at electric guitar, it’s one of his main instruments, and basically the only one that he uses for songs and performances! They tend to hype up any crowd he has with a riff or two, but Sweet knows that he’s just showing off. (More power to him, honestly!)

(He doesn’t tell or show a lot of people this, but he knows a lot of classical piano pieces. He doesn’t play it much unless he thinks that he’s by himself, but the other two have caught him at various points. They don’t tell him in case he’d get flustered)

Although Sweet does most of the composing for the songs the trio makes, Cap’n’s the one that writes all of the lyrics! The lyrics he writes are actually the closest he gets to being largely open about himself, pouring his heart and soul into every word. Although yes he tends to get a tad cheesy at times, he really cares about what he puts into his songs. When it comes to who sings those lyrics however, he’s actually more of a rapper!

(He actually writes poetry secretly in his spare time.)

His glitches in his system tend to cause all sorts of problems, and is usually the one that needs to require the most maintenance out of the two. (Although sometimes he says he’s fine and lets problems go on for a lot longer than they need to…)

Words of affection are Cap’n’s love language! Although his flirting can sound goofy a lot of the time, it’s the way that he expresses his genuine care towards the people he enjoys hanging out around. He adores Sweet and Cakes, and wants them to know it!

Although he tends to have a cool and smooth attitude, he is very insecure. From his physical appearance to the way that he acts, sometimes it’s hard to figure out where the act ends and the real Cap’n begins!

Cap’n’s also the one that spends the most time worrying about his clothes and what he wears on any occasion, so he’s actually the one that helps with any costumes or outfits the three wear for a concert!

Tends to go with the flow and do his own thing in terms of the rebellion, not really confrontational, but uses his charm to get what he wants for the rebellion.

Sweet | Cakes

#sweet cap'n cakes #long post #sweet cap'n k k #deltarune cap'n

[fumpkins]

No music training? No problem: Even novices intuit complex music theory | Science

Your co-worker’s annoying humming may be more virtuosic than you think. People without musical training naturally improvise melodies that have hallmarks of tunes composed by professionals, a new study shows. It seems that most individuals follow the arcane rules of music composition, even those who are unaware those rules exist.

“It’s cool,” says Samuel Mehr, an expert on the psychology of music at Yale University who was not involved in the work. The study offers an “elegant” way to test people’s musical abilities. “It definitely feels like a real phenomenon, not some kind of contrived thing that a bunch of psychologists made up in the lab.”

The study concerns a musical concept known as tonality—the fact that songs almost always use a subset of all the pitches a voice or instrument can produce. For example, a standard piano has 88 keys, but the typical piano piece tickles just a fraction of them. If you play a piano’s keys one by one from left to right, the notes will climb steadily in pitch until the 13th note sounds just the same as the first note, only higher. This defines an octave.

Melodies usually stick to the same four to seven pitches in each octave that are called the scale notes. That is why, in the classic movie musical The Sound of Music, the von Trapp children learn just the seven notes “Do Re Me Fa So La Ti Do” of the most common type of scale in Western music. Out-of-scale pitches can sound jarring, but musicians sprinkle such “accidentals” into tunes to add elements of tension, color, and surprise (such as the middle syllable of “Maria” in this song from West Side Story). One note in the scale, the tonic, acts as the central pitch, which often starts and ends a song.

Tonality appears in music across diverse genres and cultures, though the scales differ greatly between, say, Indian classical and American folk. In part because of this ubiquity, some researchers suspect tonality might be an evolved human trait, which helps our brains perceive, remember, and create music. But it remains unclear how—or how well—average people understand tonal rules.

In studies investigating this question, participants typically evaluate or choose a final note for an existing melody—like filling in a sentence’s missing word on a language exam. Most folks ace the tonality test, but they may just be completing a familiar sequence of pitches heard repeatedly during the experiment or everyday life.

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Weiss et al., Scientific Reports 2022

For a better measure of tonal proclivities, Michael Weiss and Isabelle Peretz, psychologists at the University of Montreal, developed a test akin to writing grammatically correct sentences from scratch (listen above). In soundproof booths equipped with headphones and microphones, participants improvised melodies, crooning only “da,” in response to prompts such as instructions to sing a lullaby, a dance, a sad song, etc.

The researchers weren’t sure subjects would want to perform the task. “It’s kind of an intimidating thing,” Weiss says. But, “Once we got people singing, they were quite happy to continue.” The jams typically ran 20 seconds with 30 notes, and some had to be cut short, Weiss recalls. “They would just continue improvising for minutes without some intervention.” One participant enjoyed the experiment so much, she enrolled in singing lessons.

The researchers captured 924 recordings from 33 residents of Quebec, including 18 participants with congenital amusia—commonly known as tone deafness. In the most prevalent form of this condition, which is estimated to affect 1.5% to 4% of the population, individuals struggle to perceive and produce pitch. But typical and amusic brains show similar electrical responses to out-of-scale notes. And, through her decades of research, Peretz has observed amusic individuals sing melodies that sounded tonal to her, even as they failed to distinguish pitches themselves.

In the current study, Peretz and Weiss created an algorithm with which a computer matched the improvs to the closest scale from Western music. For seven of the 18 amusics and 13 of the 15 controls, the participants’ songs kept to these scales better than sequences of random notes did. About the same number of participants ended their melodies on tonics more often than chance. Collectively, the musically neurotypical group fared better, but a few amusics outperformed controls, the team concluded last month in Scientific Reports. These amusic individuals “are singing in a way that adheres to a tonal system, even if they’re having difficulty perceiving that,” Weiss says. One amusic and several controls scored higher than a professional baritone with 11 years of formal training. 

The study supports psychologists’ current understanding of how brains make music, according to Kathleen Corrigall, a cognitive scientist at MacEwan University. People, including individuals with amusia, develop implicit knowledge of music rules, and are often unaware that they hold this knowledge. “The findings didn’t surprise me,” she says, but the study’s use of sung improvisation “struck me as a pretty creative, novel way to measure” implicit knowledge about tonality and other music rules.

Psychologist Erin Hannon, who leads a music cognition laboratory at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, also praised the improv approach. “I’m a big fan of any method that can be used with a whole bunch of different kinds of people, and you don’t need people with particular skills in order to do it,” Hannon says. The easy-to-run experiment and new algorithm could be used to compare tonality across different age groups and cultures, or even among different creatures. Such a tool could help scientists uncover the aspects of musicmaking shared by all humans and unique to our species. So, go ahead, sing us a song whether you’re the piano man or the plumber.

  New post published on: https://livescience.tech/2022/08/13/no-music-training-no-problem-even-novices-intuit-complex-music-theory-science/

#Complex #intuit #music #novices #problem #science #theory #training

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | The Prey (Brown, 1983)

I've mentioned before that I have a weakness for the distinct texture of first wave slashers. Movies that evoke the feeling of being truly lost in the woods and whose minimal budgets offer a sense of grit difficult to capture in more expensive productions. The raison d'etre of slashers (the slashing; also, the T&A) are almost beside the point when it comes to why I enjoy these movies. (Not entirely beside the point though. Folks, I'm only human.) Which is to say that while I don't think The Prey is a very good movie, I probably enjoyed it more than most, even if I perfectly understand the less than stellar reception in my internet circle. This is a movie that tries to coast by almost entirely on those elements and skimps on everything else.

The plot is the same as in many of these movies. Many years ago a forest fire destroyed a community of Romani living in the woods. A group of campers go on a trip to those same woods. Something starts to kill them off. Enough for an eighty minute movie, right? What if I told you that with the exception of the opening scene, there isn't any killing for over thirty minutes into this eighty minute movie, and when the slashing does happen, it's not especially gruesome? What if I also told you that not only do the campers have no personalities, the movie also can't be bothered to feign interest in them, frequently cutting away to odd nature footage at every opportunity? What if even told you that there's barely any nudity?

Now, apparently there's a longer cut featuring a flashback scene with porn actors John Leslie, Arcadia Lake and Eric Edwards that does deliver on the rumpy pumpy (in the words of the late, great Roger Ebert). One of the reasons I bothered to watch this was because I saw their names listed in the credits on IMDb and was interested to see how they'd fare in a horror movie. (I've mentioned before that I have a certain fondness for classic porn actors, at least the ones that can act.) Alas, that scene was not in the cut I watched, leading to some disappointment when the end credits rolled. (I assume there was no end credits stinger where Nick Fury recruits the three of them into the Avengers.) The one character with any personality is a park ranger played by Jackson Bostwick. He has a scene where he recreates a country music album cover by playing his banjo with a can of Coors on the table next to him, another where he pets a cute little deer, and another where he's so enraged by the death of the campers (whom he had just met for like five seconds) that he contemplates shooting a vulture with his tranquilizer gun in revenge. These provide a large percentage of the movie's highlights.

This was directed by Edwin Brown, who co-wrote the screenplay with his wife Summer (who is also credited as producer), both of whom have a background in making hardcore porn films. I can't directly comment on how their overall style (I haven't seen any of the other films they've directed, although I did enjoy China Girl, the porno spy thriller with Annette Haven that they produced), but like Gerard Damiano's Legacy of Satan, another horror movie by a porno director, this exhibits the same struggle in filling up runtime without explicit sex to punctuate the story. (Both, at least in the versions I watched, have minimal sexual content, which seems baffling given their backgrounds.) This movie does it with the aforementioned nature shots, but I found the results surprisingly evocative. Unlike other movies that use nature inserts, the footage here is incorporated pretty nicely into the overall visual style. (The other major visual flourish is the use of POV shots, a genre requisite.) And as shot by the great Joao Fernandes, the movie looks quite handsome and has some nice forest atmosphere. I wish there was more in the way of actual thrills or dread, but the movie is not totally unpleasant to sit through if you like the genre for the same reasons as I do.

#film #movie review #the prey #edwin brown