#also I think it's absolutely fucking wild some peeps are getting very close to following me for 10 years >:'D
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heard it was year of the dragon : 0 also been trying to learn clip studio more
#artists on tumblr#sketchbook stuff#no art summary this year haha got very chill? plus didn't draw a lot this year (or at least the past few months)#buT I did draw something for new years fdghjf#how the fuck do people use screentones hAHA#thanks to everyone who's still hanging around or found my stuff haha#also I think it's absolutely fucking wild some peeps are getting very close to following me for 10 years >:'D#edit: ohhhhhhh man I checked when my first post was in the archive which was november 2013 so this tumblr is literally 10 years old FDJFKH
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Some thoughts on Poppy x Cass x Kieran & The Joining.
After some awesome chats with the wonderful peeps ( @silverlinedeyes , @azriiel , @rhyssescups & @azrielisababe ) I think that there are several little tidbits that really hint at The Joining or potentially more, I know it is a pretty mixed bag of opinions but here are some of mine. [Spoilers: TCOGB]
Implication vs. Foreshadowing
“Casteel’s arm curled, tightening around my shoulder, drawing me closer. My breath snagged as his movement triggered Kieran. He shifted behind me, and my pulse felt like a trapped bird. A sleek, muscled thigh slid between mine, pressing in. I had no idea if it was Casteel’s or Kieran’s.”
“I didn’t know when I’d stopped thinking about the fact that it wasn’t just Casteel’s body that touched mine, it wasn’t his chest that my head fell back against.”
“But that wasn’t the only explanation for why I was so warm. Heat pressed against my back. A heavy arm lay over my waist and a leg was tucked between mine.”
The first time they... have fun, he does so with Kieran nearby.
She could have easily left the joining in the air, having implied it but not intending to follow through yet we get 23 mentions, alongside several moments of highly sexual/emotional connection between the three.
Instead throughout the book we are slowly introduced to the prospect of the three of them gently, coaxing them in to the storyline repeatedly through AKOFAF.
“Cass is too jealous...”
“A ghost of a smile appeared. “And then he’d be…intrigued.”
My mouth opened, but my mind took that and leapt with it. I had nothing to say. Absolutely nothing, but I thought about what I had read about the wolven and the Atlantians. There was a bond between some of them, and while not much was known about what that bond entailed, I was confident that a Prince was of the class that wolven would be bonded to. I wanted to ask, but considering I was in a tub and naked, now wasn’t the time.”
There is way to much we do not know about their bond, or their past to make that statement in my opinion, I think ordinarily I would agree, except with Kieran, he is the one person I could see Cass trusting with Poppy.
Not to mention textually speaking, he brings it up plenty and never seems offended by the idea.
“I’m not judging either.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not?”
“I’m not,” I insisted.
“So, you’re interested then?” he murmured.”
“Did you bookmark the chapters detailing how Willa spent afternoons entertaining not one but two suitors, one in front and the other—?”
“You seem to know a lot about that book.”
“I love that fucking book,” he said, and my jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it. “So, you’re interested then, Princess. What a wild side you have.”
“Look, I know you’re not looking for this marriage to go beyond the necessary,” he said, and that strange, stupid ache in my chest pulsed. “So, it’s not even something you need to worry about. But the Joining is meant to strengthen the bond that’s already there, and ensure that the partner is also a part of that bond. It’s not done lightly, and again, it is not always a sexual thing. I know it’s been done where everyone kept their body parts to themselves.”
“I can always read to you,” Casteel offered. “I still have a certain diary with me. There is a chapter I’m sure you’ll be interested in. Miss Willa has the same sleeping arrangement—”
“No. Nope.” I screwed my eyes closed. “Not necessary.”
“Are you sure?” Casteel seemed to have wiggled closer. His entire leg pressed against mine.”
All of these instances are in reference to the Joining/Kieran. Never does he imply jealousy or something he would disagree with, if anything we are told how much stronger it would make the bond (though we have yet to see where it stands) and also include Poppy. You cannot convince me that she would bring this Joining up so many time only to have it never come to fruition.
Potential Breadcrumbs
“A hundred different thoughts and emotions exploded through me, so many, so fast, I couldn’t make sense of them.”
This is during the cuddle scene, this really screams foreshadowing for her emotions and the tug-of-war she is going to undergo!
“I…” I looked around, seeing nothing but thick fog and Kieran standing above us, staring behind me and breathing just as heavily as Casteel. Confusion swept through me.”
“Just as heavily as Casteel.” interesting choice of words.
So while we are on the topic let’s speak about Poppy & Kieran;
“Reaching for the blanket, I tugged it to my waist. A muscle flexed in Kieran’s jaw. “He didn’t force himself on you?”
“You’re okay?” Kieran asked, and I felt Casteel nod. “Penellaphe?”My tongue felt heavy, but I managed to work out a muffled, “Yes.”
He is not only focused on Casteel’s wellbeing but also Poppy’s. We also get significant growth between them and their comfort with each other...
“He lifted his brows. “Are you worried about me?” Crossing my arms, I nodded.
“Don’t be nice to me,” he replied, and I sensed amusement from him. “It weirds me out.”
“Sorry.” He smiled then as he walked to where I stood. “You don’t sound remotely sorry.” I grinned at him.
“Do me a favor,” Kieran said, looking down at me. “Protect your Prince, Poppy.”
They both understand each other because they both understand their love for Casteel and desire to protect him.
“Still caring for him would only lead to heartache,” I whispered, knowing the truth right then and there. I did care. I never stopped caring. And acknowledging that felt as if I’d slipped under the black water.
“It doesn’t have to,” Kieran said. “But even so, sometimes, the heartbreak that comes with loving someone is worth it, even if loving that person means eventually saying goodbye to them.”
The roughness in his tone spoke more than his words shared. “You sound like you have experience with that.”
This is so cryptic. Either way, it is a beautiful scene where they are opening up to each other and being genuine, not to mention the subtle hints at it being “worth it” despite the pain. Could Kieran have love/d Cas? We know from JLA that she said that most Wolven are Bi/Poly.
“I wasn’t sure how I could come to terms with it even when I had time. “I don’t...”
“You don’t want this.” Kieran finished for me, his wintry gaze meeting mine.
We can only speculate what this is referring to but I don’t think it is strange to think it could be the Joining, not to mention JLA said she wrote a scene that was unlike any of the smut she has ever done before and it occurs at the beginning of the book or near it... I am guessing something will urge them to need to do the joining, perhaps to reform the bond between Kieran and Cass that was severed.
This goes hand in hand with my theory that something will happen that separates them and has Poppy/Kieran having to go on a mission for Cass either with or without him. I think this could be how she finds a way to balance out the scales in the development in their relationships as PoppyCass has a full book more than with Kieran.
Not to mention this early review of the book mentions “sharing” & “watching” this heavily implies the Joining could happen.
Kieran & Cass
“If I had turned to Casteel in my sleep, Kieran had also turned, as if Casteel were a magnet that drew both of us.”
I strange turn of phrase. My thoughts are if a Poly Ship or alike were ever to happen there would need to be complete trust, a lack of jealousy and be functional much like HeronGrayStairs.
I truly believe the potential is there between PoppyCassKieran.
“Disbelief and anger radiated from him, but I felt something else, something deeper that was warm and stronger than the anger. “I know why you’re doing this,” Kieran whispered.”
“Casteel said nothing for a long moment and then said, “It’s not the only reason.”
Words went unsaid between them, but were understood nonetheless.”
Their bond is undeniably strong and I truly believe there is more to it than meets the eye, unquestionably they love each other, the question remains how.
“When a bonded elemental takes on a partner, the bond can be extended to that person. It requires an exchange of blood between the three—or the four if the partner is also bonded. And the exchange of blood…well, it is quite…” He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “It can become very intimate. In a way that would most likely make you very uncomfortable.”
I just can’t see why she would make such a show of the Joining for no payoff in the next book.
“First off,” he said, struggling for breath, “I don’t think anyone is going to expect that.”
From you seemed to hang unsaid between us.”
Not to mention the fact there is little secrets between them, when no one else was told about Poppy’s gift Kieran was. When no one (Malek aside) knew about Shea but Kieran, and now Poppy.
It is a recurring theme that the three of are very open with each others secrets.
And I can only imagine it growing in the next book.
This ^^^^ just make me believe more and more we are getting some major Kieran development and book time, going along with my theory him and Poppy will be going to be spending time together for some reason.
So in summary, I think there is little doubt in my mind that the Joining will happen and potentially even a ship born.
#fbaa#akofaf#tcogb#poppy balfour#casteel da'neer#kieran contou#cass x poppy x kieran#poppycasskieran#poppycaskieran#poppy x cass x kieran#from blood and ashes#a kingdom of flesh and fire#the crown of gilded bones#tcogb spoilers
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Saw you've been sucked into the MMO life in the form of FFXIV and I was wondering if you had any input into the debate I've been having about what class archetypes tfw would play. I think Sam would be most likely to tank because it requires a reasonable amount of leadership and is also more of a quiet, backbone type role compared to dps. Dean seems more the type to be singularly focused on the big damage hits tbh. He also tends to take more of the charging in and fighting role in their normal life with Sam being the one reading up on everything more carefully and being his backup. Which leaves Cas as healer which may just be me projecting because I play healer/support at every opportunity but literal angel healing aside I think that sorta fits too, he cares a lot for them and tries to keep them safe and shield them as best he can in their adventures? Idk half formed thoughts please completely contradict me if you want I'm genuinely curious about other people's opinions here
Heyooo :D It is less sucked into and more like I’ve returned to the warm cushiony nest of MMOs lol
If you’d asked me back when I was a WoW player I’d have fully agreed because you could only have one class per character and these are definitely the snap decisions that the fam would make when on the character screen. Dean would grab the sexiest DPS, Sam the stoutest tank especially as he’s the one who has read into the classes and strats beforehand, and Cas would ask what to do and be given the healer role because the other two in this scenario would know better about the game and sort of lump it onto him like, oh, we need a healer and you can do this.
(In my own gaming journey, this is what my friends and brother did to me, as they needed a healer to round out their party... I took druid because it was spoopy, and discovered in WoW that while you can’t change classes you can pay gold to respec your character’s role within that class... Promptly re-specced to a melee dps/tank feral druid instead of the healer one, and had a lot more fun :D)
In FFXIV you can take all the classes on your character (which I have done, natch) and it’s a much more interesting levelling approach, especially seeing how my friends playing the game have gone when it comes to taking classes as they level and why they claim to have tried and then rejected others. It’s an enormous personality test, even for peeps like me and my brother who have all the classes up at max level, which ones we prioritised and which ones we sort of struggled with or found a bit meh.
Hm so in the scenario that Charlie comes bursting into the Bunker demanding that she needs some friends for dungeons and raids and they’re all sitting on their asses scrolling the internet between a case, they can bloody well play final fantasy with her for a bit, let’s go for some headcanons :D Long because FFXIV has become my current obsession and I have the same in-depth feels about it as I do about SPN but I just never get to write about them with anyone...
First off, Sam of course has deep nerdery about it and will ask Charlie a ton of questions about what the right class to play is and do the same thing as we’ve already discussed and go for Paladin (which starts as gladiator), and also take all the crafting and gathering side classes because he’s a nerd and you learn nonsense lore while doing it. He’s also in the same starting zone as Thaumaturge which transitions to Black Mage and I BET he’d be tempted to have a little safe witch!Sam emotional release on the most un-Sam class. It’s the big unwieldy spell caster whose literal class quests and stuff make fun of how you’re small and squishy and will be standing in a very bad spot debating whether to finish a long-cast spell and get hit or stop DPS and run for safety. I think he could do with the perspective and learning to be selfish either way to blow off steam from tanking and also learn to prioritise himself IRL :’D Also the paladin quest is WEIRDLY pro-cop from 30 onwards for some reason until the writers saw sense and just. stopped. doing paladin stuff and went back to the Gladiator storyline for the class quests, so idk if he’d enjoy that or start to question other things. Whatever it is he’s getting challenged XD
At 60 he grabs Gunbreaker because it sounds more cool and is thankfully way less emotionally stressful tanking as it’s entirely about being a badass bodyguard and sick flips. This is far more aspirational for Sam, especially as he could just tie a knife to a sawn off shotgun and do these moves for real in his day job. He won’t, but like with black mage, the thought that he COULD is very emotionally satisfying to him.
He might also have decided to check out scholar to see how healing is but idk if he would be able to handle Dean teasing him for having a fairy follow him around so he’d only dabble with the nerd class on the side :P
Now, Dean can’t take ninja until level 10 or machinist (gun shooty DPS class) until 50, so his start point as DPS would either be pugilist (eeeey brass knuckle class!) or the other DPS classes to start with are Thaumaturge/Black Mage, Arcanist/Summoner, Archer or Lancer. Now. He’d probably think the first two are sissy because magic is for girls/arcanists literally only have a book as a weapon. Archer becomes bard and I think is ultimately a place he’d be very happy as it is a very supportive class to the whole party and basically the mom friend class. But I would love if he went lancer/dragoon because the level 50 class weapon is (folklore inspired name) “Gae Bolg” and every time I equip it I can’t help giggling at the name even though I know it’s a real thing and I shouldn’t. But. Like. It’s the class about waving enormous lances around. It’s got Implications, and Dean is drawn to those.
He’d probably, however, take rogue/ninja as soon as he could because stabbing things with knives, and the class trainer is the kinda guy who’d have wild gay tension with him while they both try to boast about women to each other, were they to meet irl. Ironically, the rogue trainer (a womanising charmer) and the ninja trainer (an intense, honourable guy bad at social cues even among his own people who ends up falling from grace and choosing to stay in the vicinity of said rogue trainer) are an interesting pair of NPCs to teach Dean about where to stick knives. :)
He’d go back and power-level dragoon once he starts Heavensward though, because Aymeric is also super intense with messy dark hair and big blue eyes that see right through you. :D He’s getting that gae bolg for him, you know?
If they’re going to bully Cas to be their healer, he’d probably get really dedicated to the discipline especially as he can stay up all night to play and doesn’t need to take breaks to pee so he’d probably level conjurer/white mage (nature healing) and scholar (ancient book lore with a class quest which mixes ancient curses on a whole people, family drama and a bit of interspeciesish love) and then also pick up astrologian, which is good because it’s spooky star and making your own fate magic. The storyline for that is garbage in the sense that it’s really weakly written, but my favourite character randomly picks up AST in the latest expansion, and has an absolutely fucking wild subtextual romance with another character, including SPN level adopting of a random child who matches Jack in many respects, with said character. And in many respects emotionally they’re Cas and Dean but without any of the personal baggage between them specifically so they really are just chill and married, whatever else they’re stressed about (I say, dreading the next patch is going to finally bring up some questions about what is going on with them as it’s getting weirdly conspicuous while still utterly unsaid). So I would hope if Cas started projecting onto an astrologian character it would be him :P
Cas also would get into summoner as the other branch of scholar because honestly those two classes are about as close to the random sigil drawing and reading things from books etc analogy to his own occult magic, except you can summon cool dragons and elementals to fight for you.
they’d buy Jack a boost to 60 and he’d pick up dark knight and white mage probably just to subtly fuck with Dean
(I am still not over Dean trying to test him to see if he was evil or not by whether he chose devil or angel cake)
#Asks#ffxiv#pfft#I'm sorry#I'm like#in the rabbit hole#I'm so in deep in the rabbit hole I've memorised all the lore#I did every quest#I am as forensic about it as I am about SPN but it's all just in my head!!#AAAH why is the fandom for this game small and uninterested in talking about subtext!#[edit to add: if you know where the fandom I'm seeking is and it's on reddit#I'm not going there and you can't pay me to for all the thancred headcanons in eorzea]
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“Would You Rather...?” Drabble 02 - Reader x Yoongi [Suga]
“would you rather: be trapped in a lift with jungkook for an hour after an argument but you make up, seven minutes in heaven with rm where you have a crush on him, or be housemates with suga through quarantine and you can't stop feeling super attracted to him”
Yes, I chose the Yoongi option again because I think I have a problem lmao rip
Send me BTS “Would You Rather…?” questions in my ask box for a drabble
*********
Locked Down in Tension
Frustration. Uncertainty. Tension.
Studying of your own accord since lockdown began was starting to feel impossible. It had taken you about a week to decide where to begin with any of the remaining work on your to do list and your focus was coming in very short and sporadic bursts. Five minutes here, half a minute there… if you were lucky, you got half an hour to yourself without getting distracted by any of your housemates as they walk in and out your room or past the dining table in the kitchen.
Nothing appeared to be clear to you anymore from your studies to your social life to just everything in general. This entire situation of the country being on lockdown just messed with any existing routine you once had. It messed with your mind. He messes with your mind.
Yoongi fucking Min. He doesn’t even mean to do it; he doesn’t even know he’s doing it! All he thinks it is everyday is a glance across the room or a ‘y’alright?’ when one of you passes the other outside the shower room. Did he always look that good in the morning with his bed head? Did that dressing gown always reveal that bit of collarbone or did you only just notice? Has he always had that strong aura whenever he walks into a room or is it the isolation making you delirious?
Come on, he’s just loading in the shopping. He’s allowed to do that. He’s allowed to get on with that whilst you type away at your laptop. Or rather, you aren’t typing at your laptop, just staring at the screen with unfocused eyes while your hand barely hover above the keys. You’ve no idea how long you’ve been sitting so still like that upon your realization but you can’t help but swear in frustration at your idleness.
“For fuck’s sake…” you sigh, leaning back on your chair, throwing your head back.
“Y’alright y/n?”
‘No I’m not fucking alright; I can’t work; I can’t sleep properly; and you don’t exactly help when you come in here looking like that...’
“Yeah, I’m fine” you lie, suddenly correcting your posture by sitting up in your chair and your chin up.
“Alright then” he replies with a shrug and simply goes back to what it was he was doing; unloading the milk from the shopping bag and sliding it onto a fridge shelf.
“Well, actually no…” you admit, your mind working slower than your mouth as you rest an elbow on the table and place your head on your palm.
“You’re always sat at that screen ever since this situation happened. Take a day off” he suggests, only half bothered, you can tell by the monotone in his voice.
“Yeah right(!)” you retorted sharply. “No one knows when this will all be over and I refuse to fall behind” you explain folding your arms.
“Relax y/n; it’s going to be at least a few more weeks. Watch a film or something” he advises, slamming the fridge door shut.
“I don’t know…” you drawl out, uncertain of what to do.
You hate that he’s right. Maybe you should have a day of no computer screens. Why does he have to be right?
“Suit yourself” he deadpans. “I’m chucking this in the player anyway ‘cos there’s nothing else to do” he tells you, holding some DVD case as he once again shrugs and then proceeds to saunter on into the living area.
Refusing to appear weak in front of Yoongi - even though he doesn’t know what you know which is what goes through your mind about him sometimes and that’s just paranoia at its finest - you remain sat in that dining room chair, determined to at least get a couple of more paragraphs going on this essay you had started at the university.
His stupid head just has to be in your view just beyond the laptop screen as you try your damned hardest to be productive. You can see his blond hair peeping out above the back of the sofa and it looks lonely to you. Lonely, like somebody should go join him in watching his stupid film.
The intro music for the film begins and if you weren’t already feeling distracted by things that shouldn't be making you feel distracted, this is the giving up point for the day.
“Ah fuck it” you casually say in your decision, shutting the laptop down before abandoning it and walking over to the sofa left of the one Yoongi is sat on.
“What? Do I have cooties or something?” he questions, apparently offended at your choice of seat.
“Oh, I-I just thought that…” you stammer, unable to complete your sentence.
“I know there’s all this stuff about social distancing y/n but we are in the same household” he bluntly says as he stares at the TV but also patting the space next to him. “Sit with me” he says, eyes not leaving the TV screen.
The audacity. The way he says it like a demand and not a question. He still doesn’t realize he’s doing it. You’re feeling stubborn now because of the way in which he told but didn’t ask you.
After a solid 5 seconds passing since he spoke, he notices you didn’t move sofas.
“I don’t bite, you know” he deadpans.
It makes your blood boil even though he still isn’t meaning to evoke any sort of reaction of frustration. You can’t help yourself though. As much as you’ve tried your hardest to put off these random thoughts you’ve been getting about your housemate every now and then, the idea of sitting next to Yoongi does sound kind of nice.
You often feel embarrassed to look at Yoongi because of the way your mind sometimes drifts into daydream as you watch him make a cup of coffee and think about going up to him and hugging him from behind to bask in the warmth of his dressing gown or when you watch him lift something heavy and you imagine it’s him lifting you to push you up against the wall as you make out intensely without a care that any one of your other housemates could walk in at any time or....
“Y/n?”
“Yoongi?”
“You sitting with me then or what?”
Without a sound, you stand yourself up and gently sit yourself next to your housemate and to be fair, this isn’t so bad. The film’s fine, and you feel nowhere near as tense as you thought you were going to from being sat so close to him.
“I’m getting a drink - want one?” he asks, interrupting some not so key part of the film dialogue and getting up.
“Sure” you reply, feeling like you could use something alcoholic after days on end of going nowhere with your uni work.
“Beer good?” he asks from the kitchen and you hear the fridge door slam followed by the sound of two glasses being plonked on the kitchen counter.
“Always” you respond, your eyes fixated on the screen in a similar way to which his were earlier.
Your answer is followed with the sound of a fizz and a jingle from a bottle lid, followed by another.
“Here we go” he says, placing the bottles on the table. “Sorry, it’s all we had left” he apologises as he notices you reading the label of the bottle.
“S’alright” you reply. “It makes me laugh actually that people don’t want to drink it anymore just because of the name”
“Yeah… it is a bit daft, really” he agrees, seating himself next to you. Is he closer to you than he was before? You aren’t quite sure.
“S’pose I’m just glad really to even see some booze” you sigh with a hint of jest. You casually lean over to pick up the bottle and you take the first swig.
Seriously, you swear there was more space between you than there was before.
‘Just focus on the film y/n. Enjoy your beer.’
So that’s exactly what you do.
For about half a minute.
Godammit, you have to know whether he’s sitting closer on purpose. Or rather, you need to just confirm to yourself that it’s your mind playing tricks on you because this is of course just an accident.
You get up to go to the toilet in the shower room down the corridor and Yoongi doesn’t question it. Maybe if you have a reason to get up and sit down again - at about the same distance as before - you will be able to just see that there was absolutely no intention on his part and it will have been just you and your mind running wild again…
‘Wow if that’s what you’re classing as wild now y/n, you need to get out more…’
Observing your appearance in the mirror above the sink after you wash your hands, you find yourself subconsciously fixing your hair a little as though to make yourself look presentable, just pushing that little strand to the side out the way of your face and flattening a tufty bit at the top of your messy bun.
Coming back into the living area, you swipe at the bottle that is yours and plonk yourself on the sofa once again, leaning back to continue watching the film.
To be honest, you aren’t really engaging with the film at that point; you’re just enjoying the relaxation and the sense of relief that bottle of alcohol offers you. Maybe you have been trying too hard lately. Maybe it’s okay to not do anything too productive every so often. Maybe you’ll have another beer after this one.
“Aw man, I’m such a sucker at these parts” Yoongi abruptly tells you, leaning forward as if a little giddy at the sight of two to be lovers interacting in this scene.
“Really? You? Yoongi Min? You go for this soppy crap?” you ask, almost in a dismissing way.
“Sure I do… okay maybe not usually as much as I do now, but… oh look!” he points at the screen with an excited expression as the couple on screen almost kiss.
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You always had Yoongi down as this indifferent kind of guy, cool, outgoing… and then the two actors on screen get interrupted by a third character
“Awh damn! I so thought they were going to do it that time!” he exclaims.
Your baffled mind-set at the way your housemate is acting in no way prepares you for the contact of his hand to your knee as he squeezes it. Yet somehow, you don’t outwardly react to it at all. Not one bit. Not even a twitch or a jerk of the knee. You let it happen. It’s kind of sweet really. Yeah, maybe it’s the weird circumstances of this lockdown that has changed people in weird little ways but you can’t help but muse at this side of Yoongi.
The scene on the film ends and moves onto the next but that doesn’t prompt Yoongi to remove his hand from your knee. Instead, he calms down and he just… lingers there. Does he appear to show any intention of moving his hand? Apparently not.
This should be weird. This should feel weird. It doesn’t though.
His thumb goes back and forth gently a couple of times, rubbing on your knee. You might have just stopped breathing. It feels nice. It’s nothing though really. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it as his eyes haven’t left that TV again.
This goes on for about another 15 minutes. Well not the rubbing, but his hand stays right there, possibly it’s moved up a little by now, but you conclude it’s another accident similar to when he sat closer to you earlier.
But then something happens that makes you question everything. Suddenly you doubt your judgement that he didn’t sit closer by accident. Your mind spirals further back than that even but you stop yourself from going barmy with thoughts of uncertainty and think about getting another one of those beers. To do that though, you’re going to have to take his hand off your knee.
You reach for his wrist to move him off but just as you take hold of that wrist, you find yourself unable to let go. Your touch has caused him to look at you and he catches your gaze. Neither of you seem to be able to give up in what has turned into an intense staring competition.
No matter how much will power you try to muster, you can’t turn away.
What do you do next?
Oooh deep and mysterious cliff hanger I know... well actually tbh I guess I got carried away since I said I’ll respond with drabbles and the word count was already over 2k when I got to this point soooo
and the answer is yes, this is open to a part 2. I might continue from this part if anyone asks. I might continue it anyway and give a part 2 nobody asked for hahah
#bts#bts ask blog#bts would you rather#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts scenario#bts scenarios#suga#bts suga#suga imagine#suga imagines#suga scenario#suga scenarios#yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi imagine#yoongi imagines#yoongi scenario#yoongi scenarios
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Confessionals in Marriage
[ The following is a log of a scene between Estefania, and her husband Leviticus. ]
@seawitchtales
It had started as a normal day. Leviticus was at work at his forge*, she had gone over to say hello as she did every day, and then, her past suddenly popped out of no where, smacking her right in the face. Certain things were revealed (and kept) during Estefania's conversation with former ruler Hana Yasmin Udell, only for it to be cut short when urgent news came. It was definitely news that changed things on the Sargenis and Adair side, as well as Hana Yasmin, whom to Estefania's displeasure, had been involved with Slania's older brother, who had caused enough mess in Wexford. By the time Estefania was freed up again, the sky was dark and the crescent moon was in the sky. As Stef walked back to the little home she and Levi shared, she felt her knots in her stomach. She had been very vague about her past, for reasons, but now, there was no choice but to finally tell him everything. He knew about her tempestuous relationship with her brother, and how that eventually led her to Wexford, but she hadn't told him every detail. Each time she planned to tell him, she pushed the date back, and pushed, and pushed. But now, it was clearly time. When she got to the door, she let out a long sigh, looking up towards the sky as she tried to calm her nerves. Eventually, she opened the door, and stepped inside. "Levi? Are you home?" She asked as she closed the door. A part of her hope he wasn't yet. [d]
A bare leg was thrown over the back of the couch that he had fashioned out of leather and wood, the rest of his body draped in his finest silk robe, and upside down. Black eyes were peering into the dancing flames of the hearth, but Estefania’s voice pulled Leviticus back into reality. One arm lifted to place a nice little joint between his lips as the other one raised. “...now what kind of question is that, Little Dove, where else am I supposed ta’ be..” A Latin-Irish accent must of been quite comical to hear, at least it used to be. Pretty sure his Wife was used to it. Slowly he spun himself around so that he could stand, joint still in tow, and made his way around the couch. “...I could’ve drown, I mean really, had to bathe myself. Feed myself. I thought I was goin’ ta’ be sleepin’ all by myself too..” Both hands moved to his hips while a pained look crossed his face. He peeked the corner of his eye to look down towards his Wife, a thick cloud of smoke billowing from his nostrils. “...at least I didn’t have to kill anyone this time. Are you okay?” It was kind of late, and she was a grown ass woman and everything..but..uh. (D)
Well, there he was. No, life had decided that the time was now. She took off her cloak, because it was obviously colder since summer had ended, and hung it up by the door. "Sometimes you come home late from the forge and -- wait, is that my robe, or yours?" Estefania could never tell anymore. Sure, they more had a love for silk, and both got robes separately, but sometimes he borrowed hers, and she borrowed his. "...I can never tell anymore. But, you do somehow look better in silk than I do... " His words made her frown, and she walked over to him, her frown turning to a pout. She stood on her tiptoes and touched the sides of his faces, well, with the tips of her fingers. "I'm sorry. You know I would have never left you in the bath by yourself unless it was absolutely necessary." Then, she let out a short sigh, "And it was. I have to talk to you about something, and yes, it has something to do with the woman who came up to us today. I don't think I'm okay, to be honest." Estefania sadly smiled, or at least attempted to, and made her way to the couch. She sat, and patted the seat cushion next to her. Oh boy. [d]
A manicured brow arched rather slowly as he watched Stef move in the way she did. Hands remained on his hips as he gaze tore away from her to look at his robe. “...well, I wouldn’t push it that far. I look like a walking peep-show, and this is definitely mine..” He almost hissed. He had an affair with nice fabric since he was a child. Hmpf! Levi finally broke his stance so that he could go across the room to fetch a cup. After a little of this and a little of that was added to a sachet, he’d made his way back to the fire. “...I feel like I should stand for this, so continue on..” Oh, his eyebrow was still perked, no doubt. But! He’d pour some water from the kettle over the tea, before reaching out to place it in front of his Wife. “...maybe this will help with your nerves..” (d)
Estefania's nervousness broke for a moment, and she thought for a moment how Hana Yasmin, in shock, asked, "That's your husband?" She wondered how the woman would react seeing that the big, scary, wild looking blacksmith was also a silk aficionado, more so than her. She covered her mouth, almost laughing out at the thought, but soon she lowered her hand, smiling at him. "I could have sworn that was mine. Hm, that probably means the dark blue one is mine." Her stomach lurched, as if to say back to the subject! and she took in a deep breath, clasping her hands together."Yes, so the woman -- thank you, my love --" She quickly said as he prepared tea for her, and took it, holding the cup between her cold hands, " -- Is a woman from my past. I think I've told you that I was born in a Kingdom called Paraiso, but I was living in another kingdom called Etihad. Well, that woman is Hana Yasmin Udell. She was the former queen of those kingdoms. I served her for a long time. To my surprise, she abdicated." That was nothing to be nervous about, right? Well, by the look on Stef's face, there was more. "...Ah, so... I have not told you what I did in these kingdoms. I served the queen as uh...as her right hand. My family was pretty important..." She grimaced for a moment, realizing she was, yet again, dancing around the actual fact, "...In fact, my family, House Arazola, was the richest and most powerful family after the crown. I was the head of the family." [d]
“....yes, Dove, the flowers are mine..” He said almost matter-of-factually, before his feature lost all sign of laughter. He stood for a long while just looking around at random objects and puffing on his smoke. “..uh..huh..” Finally his gaze fell upon his precious Little Dove. “....so why, or rather how did I stumble upon such a thing in this town...almost drowned, no doubt? And what do you mean that you were if you sit before me here and now..” You could obviously tell Levi was getting antsy, that joint was gone! (D)
Stef took a sip of the tea she had, burning the tip of her tongue in the process a bit, but she did take a good gulp of it, hoping it would, in fact, calm her nerves. Oh, Levi's questions began to trigger an intense anxiety that came whenever she thought of the events that eventually brought her to Wexford. She put down the tea cup, and hugged herself, rubbing her arms in an attempt to calm herself. "Uhm... That's the complicated part. I... It's hard for me to even say it out loud, and you're the first person I'm going to tell..." And she was hoping he'd be the only person. "...So, in the Kingdom of Paraiso, my father served this queen. Rumor is, she was raped by a demon and she gave birth to two sons, Vergil and Uriel. Vergil, in trying to kill his brother to take the throne, killed his mother the queen. Our family tried to have him held accountable, but then my father died and Vergil managed to throw us out on the street. We lived in poverty until Hana Yasmin took over and put us back into power." Stef began to grip her arms hard. "Things happened that led us to leave Paraiso and begin a new kingdom, Etihad. One day, while going through old family things, I found something that... uh... apparently, was evidence that made us the true heirs of Paraiso's throne-- starting with me, because my father named me his heir. I ... hid it, didn't tell my brother Ulises, but he found out. He wanted us to take the throne to 'set things right', but I told him I refused to take any throne, and that our place was in the new kingdom. He..." Stef suddenly began to cry, and she covered her face, mostly out of shame. "He attacked me with a knife, saying he had to do what was necessary for the family. I fought back. He began to choke me and in panic, I grabbed the knife and I...I was aiming for his shoulder but got his neck instead!" Her voice broke in the last part, and by that point, she was crying hard, trembling all over as a result of retelling the trauma. [d]
Leviticus’s features were stoic, but you could clearly see that he was taking his time lulling over Stef’s story as she wove it. He moved to stand before her with his hands moving from off his hips. “..what are you doing?” His question seemed strange, but he was deadass. “....so you defended yourself from your dumbass Brother, and you feel what..guilt?” There was a bit of anger twisted in his words, but it wasn’t because of her. “...fuck that guy..” And he’d spit on the ground next to him. “...he fucking better be dead is all I’m saying. I mean, I could find out for you..” Now a brow rose almost as if in question. For a moment he was silent, but that was broken with a sigh. “...I could come out with what I am, show you.” (D)
Stef looked up, her eyes and cheeks glistening with tears. “I didn’t think I’d ever stab my brother’s neck, Levi. His blood was all over my hands and clothes… the sounds he made.” Her chest heaved, and she leaned back against the couch, looking up at him, afraid that he was going to explode once she told him. “I think he’s alive. I… I can just feel it. I can’t explain it. Also, when I mentioned it to Hana Yasmin, she didn’t deny it,” Stef said quietly, “I’m pretty sure he’s going after the crown now since everyone thinks I’m dead. He was after my heirdom, after all.” Now, she just look damn sad, but what he said made her glance at him again, tilting her head. “Show me? [d]
A sigh was uttered while both hands lifted to rub through his hair. “...you were defending yourself from a Brother that was trying to kill you. A person that held no regard for your life based off of greed and spitefulness. There is no reason to cry about this any longer, my Little Dove..” Levi was terrible at trying to have the right words to say, but he was fuckin’ trying. Well what a night this turned out to be. Moving slowly he perched on the table in front of his Wife, moving his face close to her own. After a moment both eyes would completely turn black, even the whites. “...when I was born I was marked as punishment for my Parents’ love. But I wouldn’t really call it a curse...what do you know of the Greek God, Hades.” The sound of bones breaking and snapping would echo through their home as flesh peeled from Levi’s changing body, being replaced by smooth black fur. After a few moments a large canine sat in front of Stef. A Doberman, with fire burning in his eyes. (D)
Estefania knew he was right. After all, attempted murder was a line that once crossed, there was no going back. "It's hard not to cry. It just... hurts." She replied sadly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. That was probably the best way to put it. "There's more to it, you know. My mother played a big part -- I think she resented my existence. The only person in my corner was my father, but... he just died." Speaking of parents! Stef's brows furrowed as Levi changed his eyes and then, she looked a bit freaked out when she realized his eyes had gone completely dark. "Hades? Uh... I do remember from the tales that he was the Greek god of the underworld, and he... he..." She trailed off, eyes widened big as Levitcus began his transformation. She looked absolutely horrified by the sounds of his breaking and snapping bones, cringing noticeably and covering her ears. She didn't even realize that she had actually began to curl up on the couch, probably because of the fear and discomfort she suddenly was feeling. Then, she stared at the creature that was in the place of her husband. She didn't say anything, unable to even form a coherent thought. So... her husband was a dog. [d]
“...well I am He and He is me...” Leviticus’s voice wrapped itself around Estefania as she curled up on the couch. For a moment the dog sat still watching her. There were really no words that he could utter to make this any less of a shock. So he decided to jump up onto the couch to lie next to her, his body warm just like the fire. “...it’s a strange thing to have the memories and abilities of someone like this. But I’ve learned to deal with it. My Father hears the constant suffering of all those on this plane, and I hear the constant suffering of the dead.” (D)
Somewhere in the house, the black cat that had, in all honesty, adopted them, was staring at Doberman Leviticus probably just as confused and wide-eyed as Stef. She continued to stare at Doberman Levi when he was on the couch with her. While she looked completely dumfounded, she began to uncurl herself, and eventually, she was somewhat sitting again, still unsure of what exactly happened. "... Does it... hurt?" She finally asked, because man, the transformation was painful just to watch. [d]
“...not anymore. I can pretty much turn into any black animal. This just happens to be one of the ones that guards the Underworld. After a few more moments the canine would depart her side to stand back near the hearth. This time a stale wind wrapped itself around his form engulfing him in a black haze. Naked, he’d peer back towards his Wife with his normal blue eyes. “...look, we both have a shitty past. But we have a wonderful future to look towards, but it’s going to be a long road. I want to be able to make my name into one that is respected, one that our children would be proud to have.” A hand rose sheepishly to rub the back of his head as an embarrassed laugh found him. “... I mean after my display I’m not even sure you’d want a child with me, but after this war is over..” Who knew? (D)
Once he was back in human form, she looked a lot more relaxed (sort of, because once she realized he was naked? Brows went up for a moment, but then looked right at his face, determined to keep her gaze there because she couldn't be distracted during serious talk.) Then talk of children made her smile, and look down. "You know, when I was busy being the right hand of a Queen ... I didn't even have time to think about children. My past life feels so far away." She commented before she let out a light laugh. "Levi... " She got up, walked up and stood before him. "It'd be a crime if two people who looked as great as us didn't have a child. Please." She weakly joked, but she meant that! "But... it is a bit frightening to see you transform -- the sounds... ah." She got the shivers and shook her shoulders. But then she took both of his hands. "As long as you're still the man that I married on the inside, I... I think I can deal with it. You can become a black dog, and I have an angel somewhere inside. God, we're so fucking weird." Odd couple, they were. [d]
“...I’m a God, not a dog.” He sort of eye-rolled while he watched her, moving his hands so that he could wrap her up in his arms and pick her up. Both of her legs were wrapped around his waist as he peered into her eyes. “..I’ll always be me, Estefania.” A gentle kiss was placed against her lips with a smile. “... but now I need to meet this Hana, hm?” (D)
There was something about being picked up that Levi that made her feel super good andsafe. If anyone else did it, well, she'd feel insulted somehow. "I'm sorry, but it's... it's what I saw" She said with a laugh. She kissed him back, and let out a sigh, finally starting to look more relaxed rather than anxiety ridden or horrified like before. "Oh, you do. I told her you're my husband and I don't think she believes me yet. I think she always expected me to marry some clean cut nobleman, despite how bored I told her I'd get." An eyeroll ensued. "But.. she's a good person, so I'm sure she'll see why I'm with you. And I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I'm so used to being a politician and keeping secrets, I suppose I need to remember to focus on being a good, unsecretive wife instead." There was a pause, but then she cleared her throat. "So, are you going to stay naked like this or ... hear me out --" She rose an index finger, "... We go upstairs." She was a negotiating councilwoman back in the day, so clearly, negotiation was still a forte. [d]
Leviticus had moved his hands to cup her pert little ass while still holding her close to him. “... yes, secrets aren’t the best between a Husband and Wife. Doubt can grow there..” A brow rose slowly as she questioned his nakedness. “... noble men are fuckin’ chodes..” And with a turn her back would be slammed against the wall. With his nose he’d press against the side of her face so the he could expose the flesh of her neck. A tender, but longing kiss was offered to the nape before he bit her just enough to feel the sharpness of his canines. “...you won’t make it upstairs, Little Dove..” He’d almost growl into her mouth as his lips found hers again, a more passionate kiss offered. (D)
And they never made it upstairs.
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Unpaid Intern
Watch, as eagle mistakes abandoned diaper for baby dall sheep carcass on video. Giggle, divided into thirds. Watch in a room that smells of must-see. An unrelaxed giggle, a well-placed giggle. Giggle for two.
Template: Eerie Light — an unrelaxed dreamer. Broken-hearted moobs, real under a giggle. Real and rancid as a crushed Peep between mattress and wall. Memories of a crushed Peep en route. Unglanced moobs of a dreamer. SNAFU of crushed Peep. Mold untold, heartpinged violence for an air-bulged dreamer. Thin sneeze of a repressed dreamer, pining for an evil attitude. FUBAR of indolence. Stare into a SNAFU and sprint at a reckoning.
The moobs are prepared for the group. The giggle is prepared for the moobs. Watching a story of the body.
The giggle is released.
On what the past several years of drifting have taught me. Fear can take up a lot of time, drifting has no built-in revelations. My unpaid internship. A long pause for no revelations. I would not want to watch a horror movie where the protagonist is already enlightened and so does not care if they live or die. No reason for an audience to follow along. But, good for the protagonist, that is a very mature mindset. When it comes the gore will feel very peaceful. As a young child walking with her mother says “hi” to me on the sidewalk and she walks by. I smile involuntarily and say “hello” back. The progression of knife-picked thoughts is, under this sudden sweetness, compressed and stowed. The child has ordered me to engage with the surroundings and respond and smile. I continue to walk home and for four of those five minutes continue to feel this way, reeling with the pleasant surprise. Shivering with the undreamt-of giggle.
Under such conditions did I find myself thinking of Rob somewhat rapidly as I turned the block of my apartment building; it felt like a moment to agitate some details. He was a hedonist of indeterminate sexuality and indeterminate politics. He had multiple young friends who were fond of wearing very specific t-shirts. He worked as an unpaid intern for a company with an indeterminate name, maybe, Personal Options? He had trouble explaining the tasks of this unpaid internship. He arrived at a term he made up that one notices him to believe is professional enough: Visual Indexer. He would say this in a way that communicated an unforeseen weakness to one day appear to others as “professional.” Beyond this tragic motive, there was no indication anywhere else that entering a realm of prepared hierarchies and the collection of strangers’ respect was at all an interest. He had the impulsive life pus flooding a young person who has that corrective obsession with the massacre of all infectious traditional boundaries. Often this had taken the form of the most cheerful defenestration. As if Rob and his friends regularly made the plan to collect any abandoned objects in the neighborhood of a certain base weight on their way back to our apartment complex and, come drink time, freely pirouette-launch the janky wares from the balcony.
The neighbors did not seem to care, how could I not be jealous, I was one pathetic moan too old to feel that form of relief. I touched the extreme upper bridge of my nose which was sore from having accidentally planted it at high speed on the top edge of my slightly angled-in laptop when reaching beyond it to grab a 4 x 6 photo of myself from my late teens. I thought it a good sign that I was so unconsciously prepared to pummel my face — could it mean that, when that liberating moment finally trembled my way, I would have 100% lack of regret in the irreversible ripening of my useless young flesh? I could only hope so. I could also only hope it was as irreversible a procedure as I had imagined it, I often needed to remind myself that I had absolutely no understanding of science. Indeed Rob’s friend Q.C. had once worn a black t-shirt with a graphic of a beretta on it and underneath it the writing, “ONE SIZE FITS ALL.” I could not know the tone with which he wore it. Rob was a Visual Indexer, I did find the term interesting. The 4 x 6 print of myself was one of many laying on my water-stained table. Portraits of myself at various ages, alone, printed at a very popular national pharmacy that also sold algae-encrusted vegan turmeric chips and had wine tastings every Friday from 5-7. Portraits at 16, 23, 25, 19, 26, 19, 21, I had the idea to tape them on my wall, sit against them with my eyes closed, and take photos of myself, to try to trace a timeline. I would close my eyes to perform that I was feeling deeply. In this photo of myself at 16, I had just a few questions about what is possible. In this photo of myself at 23, I am apparently cross-eyed. In this photo of myself at 19, a noticeable uptick in moobs.
One of Rob’s friends, Bianca (who once, in my presence, and against the seeming silent contract between Rob and his other friends, asked him how he had enough money to live alone when he didn’t make any money at his internship and had no other job, and to which Rob did not even try to respond but only left the room mimicking an animatronic Halloween decoration witch laugh) had told a story of her teen years where, emboldened by some older users in a chatroom she compulsively frequented, used to scream non-white racial slurs at white people shopping at Target and Kohl’s and yell “dyke” and “faggot” at hetero couples holding hands in the street. Though she told these anecdotes in a withdrawn and ashamed performance, she must have recognized how they might impress her group of friends who could only laugh at the altogether untraditional, societally unacceptable and, bottom line wacky behavior of their friend, who now seemed to be a reverent, committed radical anarchist that, when waiters weren’t looking, ate leftover food from plates less committed people abandoned at various restaurants. How would I ever save enough money to look peerless and decrepit? In this photo of myself at 21, a genuine smile, so wild it would seem I am kidding.
With some cheap make-up also bought at the pharmacy that had wine tastings, I had begun to stealthily repair my thriving fat eyebrows with highlights of white, probably only noticeable to me but done in the hopes that the powerful undertone would inch towards a different reception of my face when it was in conversation. “Nice to meet you” the young video director had said to the middle-aged CEO, they shook hands and the CEO said, “it’s nice to be met.” Upon being introduced to Bianca one afternoon — despite my control system being against the idea of leaving my eremitic pouch, increasingly I found myself accepting invitations to Rob’s apartment — I had carefully prepared these brows blanched in the white of the faintest melting snowflake and so felt just a smidge-stain more futurist and directed. Just one look at my altered face and people could conclude, “there is nothing different” though I hoped for, “there is nothing different?” Bianca had looked at my face, I assumed she had never seen it before, we shook hands and her grip was severe. Her face smiled. Perhaps one of these elements was meant as a distraction from the other. There was no comment from Bianca or even lingering-and-falling eye pointed towards my one-sixty-forth-assed aging attempt. Though he was not there that day, I surprised myself by pulling up badly remembered thoughts of Q.C., as Bianca and Rob discussed the new urban development of a neighborhood that was a couple miles away. I thought I had remembered the shape of his face and at least the shade of brown in his eyes. But inevitably, my attempts to display a likeness in my mind were shaved down, and major facial characteristics uncontrollably replaced with the swiftly recalled appearance of a now-grown-and-unsuccessful child star I never had the option not to know or recognize. I thought, ‘the more I see of Q.C. the more I will be able to remember of him when I am alone.’ Such projects brought their own gore, pah, the gore of worry, the worry I will be derailed. It wasn’t my place to let myself get in the way of my own revenge. The most grotesque escape. This is the strategy, sadness reappears as logistics.
I was not here to re-engage the viability of my young-ish body for the scarfing of others, I was here to become a vibe-threatening vision of near-death for the rest of my burgeoning life and also I was here to watch the yearly romantic elder comedy starring actresses and actors such as Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson. I was just bent by the way his shoulders filled out the black t-shirt with a beretta on the front, when glanced at with his face turned away. There is no choice but to notice. “A new condo with several stories is being built just down the block from where I am taking improv classes,” Bianca tells us. “And next to it I think there’s going to be some big retail store with a giant parking lot.” “Ok,” Rob suggests, “let’s just say ‘that’s fucked up’ and continue.”
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Apologies for the long posts and also the break from my blogs regular aesthetic of shitposting, gayness and memes. But I’m currently having an absolute mental breakdown!!!
So anyone that’s been following me for a while, or who happens to read my tags is probably aware of the fact that I’m trans! Ftm btw, And I’m still closeted ha because you know transphobic family, societal digust and financial instability meaning I need to make myself very comfortable in this closet thank you very much etc etc however I’m absolutely sick of my dead name so I need a name whoop whoop because I need something to call myself in my head and online just to hold onto my last shread of sanity
So lads, gals and non-binary pals I’m tasking you with trying to help me find a name that suits me because I can’t consult anyone irl
Now a brief description
I’m 5,5, pale as fuck Irish fucker(specifically a Dub with a strong inner city accent), with mousy brown hair and a fuck tone of freckles, with too big eyes and glasses that take up half my face and goofy teeth, my style consists of black skinny jeans, rolled up above my ankles to highlight the fact that I’m a Bisexual ™ partnered with a nice blazer over a crappy hoodie with a pair of Filas
And if you haven’t already realized I’m a sarcastic (mentally ill/severely depressed uwu) bastard. However I’m also the human embodiment of a puppy with some severe chaotic energy (thanks ADHD) so make of that what you will
Now my surname starts with a B and is Norman Irish (I refuse to say Anglo Norman because I don’t want to be associated with...ya know the “Anglos”)
And I’m flirting with Phillip as a middle name but I can be swayed.
Now first names of anyone one could reply with some suggestions or vibes you get from the soon to follow list of names, either on this post, in my inbox on anon I don’t give a fuck, but I would love you forever!
So without further ado please advise on the following
-Cillian (I’m not overly sure on this, I love the fact that it’s Irish because yay heritage but it’s a bit soft sounding idk)
-Jack (a solid sounding name which I love but for some reason I’m not connecting to it so any suggestions similar to this would be welcome)
-Shane (close to my deadname and by close I mean they start with the same letter, again a bit soft sounding for my likening and I’d more than likely use Shay as a nickname but I’m not sure whether that’s masculine enough and if I ever come out and continue to get misgendered because of the name I will riot)
-Shay/Shea (see above, also opinions on the spelling?)
-Daniel (Dan is a solid name and no it’s not because I was a Dan Howell stan, but it’s a bit plain and hasn’t really got an Irish flair or give an Irish youngfella vibe?)
-Seán (it’s plain and hasn’t really got a nickname to go with it but it has a fada and I’m a slut for a fada, please give me all the fadas)
-Anthony/Tony (I don’t know what it is about this name but I’m a fan, plus I love a nickname I’m just not sure if it’d suit me or whether it’s too old sounding, what vibes we getting peeps?)
-Ciarán (another fada yay, but I get the feeling some people would pretend to miss hear me and call me Ciara and it’s not happening plus Ron as a nickname is not something I vibe with)
-Oscar (god I love this name because I’m a literary stan and Oscar Wilde is a gay Irish idol but it was really uncommon around the time of my birth (‘98 bitch) and I want something that fits in with names of people my age not the baby’s being born this year because ew)
-Mark (this was the first ever name I considered as a kid and by considered I mean I was 12 never new being trans was a thing and had an alter ego, dream version of myself, in my head called Mark. Don’t know where the name came from and I don’t really vibe with it anymore but it was the first ever male name I had if that makes sense Idk)
-Darcy (Mr Darcy who??? It’s Irish, it’s fucking cool, it’s giving me a gay vibe, it’s dark and mysterious completely unlike myself and I love it. BUT where I am it is a clear cut, no debate to be had girls name. I know at least 12 Darcy’s are any of them fellas? nope. Now again I don’t think names have a gender, the name is the gender of the individual person using it etc etc I fully understand that. However, I want to be clearly read as male and with this name it would not happen so fuck. But I vibe with it)
So a big congratulations and also apologies if you waded through all of that. If anyone would like to drop an opinion I will love you forever because I need validation from other people because I need exterior validation in order to survive yup yup
Thank you, much love, go raibh maith agat etc etc
Now back to our regularly scheduled programming of gayness, hyperbole, saracasm and mental illness
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two blogs part 2
“the upstairs neighbors are being really loud and my tarot deck told me to relax can you believe this bullshit”
THE URUK-HAI
Ah, Uruk-hai. What could possibly be worse? I am here to tell you that what could be worse than being kidnapped by uruk-hai is if someone is fucking mowing a lawn outside and people will not stop walking around and moving furniture upstairs. Dump my body in a ditch and write ‘CAUSE OF DEATH: AUDITORY PROCESSING DISORDER’ on a scrap of paper tucked under my tongue. Anyway Pippin is not having a much better time than me. He wakes up from a nightmare lying tied up on the ground, looking at his scared (and also tied up) best friend. And FINALLY some Pippin interiority! He is dismayed that he has been worse than useless on this journey and also, obviously, that he is now at the mercy of a bunch of orcs. I like that his primary characteristic in Fellowship was that he kept trying to look tough when he thought he wasn’t... but as we’ll see he really is tough and resourceful!
The orcs notice Pippin is awake and start being mean to him immediately. One of them says “Curse the Isengarders!” out loud, which seems like a pretty bad idea unless you assume this orc is looking for a fight. I guess the fact that orcs have no common language between tribes is just a plot point that allows Pippin to understand what they’re saying? Basically they are just arguing about whose orders supersede who else’s orders. Some of them are even Moria orcs, and just want to do a revenge murder; why the hell did the professional warriors let them join?? Like it’s clear that the Mordor party and the Isengard party have sort of good reasons to cooperate, but I’m honestly surprised they didn’t just chase off the Moria orcs as soon as they showed up. Like who even are these guys? They don’t work for either of our masters. Deadweight. At any rate, Ugluk of Isengard doesn’t seem to want to let them leave now?? Just to show how In Command he is.
The orcs fight and a bunch of them get killed. Pippin takes the opportunity to cut his bonds on a dead man’s knife and retie them looser. Just in case. Then the party sets off again, and somehow Pippin actually manages to fall asleep while being carried by an orc. These hobbits, I swear. Anyway he wakes up later and is given some kind of... alcohol? Opiate? Some kind of painkiller. Merry gets ointment for the cut on his head, but because of Tolkien’s weird Thing this is portrayed as creepy and awful. Ugluk also tells Merry ‘You'll get bed and breakfast all right: more than you can stomach.' What. Ugluk you’re really bad at threats, that doesn’t even make sense. Well, they let Merry and Pippin run on their own legs, anyway. Everyone was tired of carrying them. The Moria orcs say they can’t run in the sunlight; Ugluk threatens them into silence. Aww.
Later they decide to run home through Fangorn--over a hundred of them. Oh holy shit how many orcs are there here?? I was picturing more like 40... but it sounds like after the northerners leave there’s around a hundred left. Apparently the Mordor orcs come back too, and there’s some delightful boasting:
‘What else did you come back for?’ said Uglúk. ‘You went in a hurry. Did you leave anything behind?'
'I left a fool,' snarled Grishnákh. 'But there were some stout fellows with him that are too good to lose. I knew you'd lead them into a mess. I've come to help them.'
'Splendid!' laughed Uglúk. 'But unless you've got some guts for fighting, you've taken the wrong way. Lugbúrz was your road. The Whiteskins are coming. What's happened to your precious Nazgûl? Has he had another mount shot under him?’
Sorry I kind of like Ugluk. He’s... fun.
The riders start to catch up, and the orc party camps out in the dark, waiting for them to attack. This seems pretty dumb--even if Rohirrim have better night vision than most humans and their horses “can see the night breeze” (ah yes... horses.... famously nocturnal animals...) it still makes more sense to attack at night. Well, while that standoff is going on, Grishnakh of Lugburz shows up and starts trying to get into Pippin and Merry’s pockets. Pippin decides to trick Grishnakh into thinking he has the Ring... for some reason?
'My dear tender little fools,' hissed Grishnákh, 'everything you have, and everything you know, will be got out of you in due time. You'll wish there was more that you could tell to satisfy the Questioner, indeed you will: quite soon. We shan't hurry the enquiry. Oh dear no! What do you think you've been kept alive for? My dear little fellows, please believe me when I say that it was not out of kindness: that's not even one of Uglúk's faults.'
Oh I looooove the way he talks. Merry succeeds in making him angry and frantic--he’s running out of time! And he runs toward the forest with both of them. But unfortunately, riders. He gets very murdered. The battle moves away, Merry and Pippin are left alone in the dark, and so obviously the very first thing they do is have some lembas. Hobbits!! After having their tea (at midnight. whatever.) they crawl off toward the Entwash. Merry, who unlike Pippin has actually looked at a map in his life, says they ought to go through Fangorn despite the warnings. So they go to the eaves of the wood and look back out at the battle taking place at sunrise.
Out of the shadows the hobbits peeped, gazing back down the slope: little furtive figures that in the dim light looked like elf-children in the deeps of time peering out of the Wild Wood in wonder at their first Dawn.
GOOD IMAGERY, very sweet. Our hobbits almost stay, but it looks like Ugluk and a few others are about to get away into the forest, so they end up running. You were soooo close guys. Now instead of meeting their companions straight off, they’re going to end up with
TREEBEARD
They follow the Entwash for a while until they find a stony outcropping they can climb up. They go on quite a bit about how old and treeish the forest is (no duh) but when the sun comes out Pippin “almost feels he likes the place.”
'Almost felt you liked the Forest! That's good! That's uncommonly kind of you,' said a strange voice. 'Turn round and let me have a look at your faces. I almost feel that I dislike you both, but do not let us be hasty.’
Here he is! The reason I say HOOM every time I am thinking for the last ten years. Tolkien actually describes him as fairly humanoid, although he is fourteen feet tall and also has fourteen toes. He says he’s an ent, but doesn’t know what Merry and Pippin are. He sings the whole “all the creatures there are” song, which is very endearing, and doesn’t find them in the list. I love Treebeard’s preoccupation with true names; he doesn’t want to tell his (and at any rate, it would take a very long time to say!) and he’s absolutely honored by Pippin and Merry’s confidence when they tell him who they are. He also does some cute monologuing, and mentions Gandalf, “the only wizard who really cares about trees.” Surely Radagast must care a little, if only for birds to nest in!
Treebeard knows a lot of tongue-twisters. He knows one about Laurelindorenan (which is almost a tongue-twister itself); he would have advised people to stay away from queer Lothlorien just as Celeborn advised our heroes to stay away from Fangorn! So insular... He talks a lot about the old days, and sings some too. I love him very much. I find it hard to summarize anything to do with Treebeard if I read too far ahead; at any rate we come to a place that may be called Wellinghall, and the hobbits tell him of their adventures. Treebeard is troubled by Saruman and wonders what to do about him. He gets himself worked into a right frenzy over Saruman’s awful doings--and then says, now, I mustn’t be hasty. He’ll call a council tomorrow, but for now he explains the curiously sexist reasons all the entwives are gone.
Entwives like order, and they like to direct things to grow just so, whereas ents are more nomadic and live as herdsmen and wanderers. What the fuck Tolkien. Can you just... not... I’m not sure he has properly talked with a woman in his life. Anyway, the gardens of the entwives have been destroyed by Sauron, and nobody saw where the entwives themselves went. IMO the safest bet would be east of Sauron’s domain; he probably doesn’t have a huge amount of interest in spreading out there, far from the organized resistance in the west.
So. Entmoot. Takes place in the Derndingle. A dingle, by the way, is a landform also known as a dell, sort of like a very small valley. Not to be confused with a dale, which is both derived from the same Old English word and apparently has an almost identical definition. Thanks, Wikipedia. I’ll be sure not to get those confused. Anyway after a few hours Treebeard comes and finds the hobbits to tell them it will take a couple of days to explain everything to the other ents; he’s brought as a companion for them an ent named Quickbeam, who is so hasty that he has already decided what he wants to do about Saruman. Yowza. He’s a fun guy, laughs a lot, likes to sing. They stay at his ‘house,’ and he talks about the beautiful rowan grove he used to live in, and how the orcs destroyed it. “That seemed to the hobbits quite enough to explain his 'hastiness', at least in the matter of Orcs.” At last, after three days, the ents have come to a decision. Their war song is so delightful--its unstoppable rhythm!--that I have to put the whole thing here for you.
To Isengard! Though Isengard be ringed and barred with doors of stone;
Though Isengard be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare as bone,
We go, we go, we go to war, to hew the stone and break the door;
For bole and bough are burning now, the furnace roars - we go to war!
To land of gloom with tramp of doom, with roll of drum, we come, we come;
To Isengard with doom we come!
Burarum! “We are made of the bones of the earth. We can split stone like the roots of trees, only quicker, far quicker, if our minds are roused!” Treebeard says this might be the last march of the ents--Saruman is powerful, after all. But better to face doom this way and destroy Saruman than to wait as he grows ever stronger for doom to find them! The ents are going to war!
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A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships ya dig
As you may have noticed, my last post was my first (hooray), and also I sat on it for a month. Not sure why, just hadn't gotten around to posting it until just a little while ago. Anyway, I’m here today, this evening, this year to discuss a KILLER album. As I scroll past my two, count em, two posts I am overwhelmed with the desire to dance, but at the same time I want to feel shit. Welcome to the world of The 1975.
Yes, the 1975 have a “following” of “teens” with their posters adorning the “minimalist bedroom” tours of plenty twinkly eyed youtubers, but these aren't real things. The 1975 have FANS. Since when did that become a bad thing? I’m off my soapbox, the soapbox I’m going to aptly name in the spirit of The 1975, “The Step Onto Which Our Feet are Cleaned and Our Rhetoric Dirtied.” How was that? Terrible? I know.
Okay. So this album comes with some hot ass anticipation. I was a late comer to this band but once I head the looping guitar of “Chocolate” from their first album The 1975 I was taken by how good the chorus was. Fast forward a few years and their next one comes out. It’s called I Like it When You Sleep For You are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware of It. Does my soapbox joke translate better now? So I’m watching them perform songs from it on SNL and damn it I liked the song but I was annoyed by Matt Healy the lead singer. He has a very meandering and “rockstar” stage presence. I later realized I was annoyed only because I secretly wanted to be him.
I tell this to say that I wrote them off as something “not for me.” Side note: I get there are a lot of quotation marks and I’m sorry but also i’m just illustrating a “point.”
Fast even more forward and i’m riding in the car listening to the Sound Opinions podcast and a song plays. This song is fucking ear candy. A lite-house-ambient mix with just the most beautiful plinking sounds you ever did here. I wait for the host to tell me the answer to who this band is, and lo and behold it is none other than The 1975. What I was listening to was the title track to I Like it When You Sleep. I was shamed. Here I was blowing off this band for absolutely superficial reasons. Needless to say I learned my lesson and dove into that album and discover the magic that was the tracks “The Sound” and “This Must be My Dream” among other greats. So with this secret discovery I began singing the praises of the band to anyone who would listen. I began putting it on when I had too much to drink. I used it to keep me awake on long car rides. It was a jam.
So, I became a bit excited when I heard about their new album A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships. And the singles released leading up to it were fucking killer. One of the first I heard was Give Yourself a Try, an angular guitar driven ode to self love. I was immediately struck by the lyrics and the desire of Healy to ENCOURAGE. Damn does it feel good to be encouraged. That single was followed up later by Love it If We Made It. The power anthem of just everything. This song takes to task the headlines that have confronted us with little regard for our collective emotional health. “Thank you Kanye Very Cool,” “Rest in Peace Lil Peep” these are JABS. They fucking sting. Each phrase bringing back memories of adverse reactions, sadness and a general wtf. But, like the well-known Jesus Christ, there was more to come. The ticks of the synth fall away, a guitar builds and we are tumbled into a complete BOP. “I’d love it if we….. MADE IT” Healy yells over the forceful bump of the best use of a steel-drum synth mine ears have been blessed with. The ever-present 1975 choir brings an angelic feel, the guitar juts, Healy’s voice echoes just enough, and for a moment we are just fuckin dancing. I was so thankful for this, especially this year. This song exemplifies so much anxiety that many of us feel but also gives us a nice dose of joy.
I’m going to pause for a sec to explain a theory i’ve been thinking up of songs. Good songs are song that the artist MEANS. And when I say mean, I mean that even if it’s about the paint on a Lomborghini they fucking mean that shit. Great songs are ones where the artist means, and proposes a problem for us to join them in. They create a moment in time for us to understand. A room where we sit opposite them and see what they were dealing with when they wrote it. Truly Great songs: the artist means it, they’ve brought is into their problem and also GIVEN US A SOLUTION. “Love It If We Made It” Does these things. I know they mean it, I know exactly where they were mentally when they wrote it, and fuck it if we’re not gonna dance it off. Now, if that doesnt make a truly great song I have no idea what will.
Alright, pause over. I next heard the single TOOTIMETOOTIMETOOTIME. It’s a super comfortable bop with the cutest darn music video you ever did see. Bless yourself and give it a gander.
Alright. Then something happened. I heard the tune ”It's Not Living (If It's Not With You).” Y’all to say this song enraptured me was an understatement. I spent much of that night starting it over and over. Dancing my heart out. I danced from the imagined perspective of the lead singer, the guitarist and most importantly the backing choir. Fuck. That is what got me. The choir behind Healy gently glides a few octaves over him, and for the words “All, I do” Healy pulls back letting them shine. Oh to be a member of that choir for a day, a month, a life. To get to sing with them is my new dream. Anyway, besides providing a moment of escape this song just FEELS good. I heard in an interview Healy describing it as the most 1975 song the 1975 has ever put out. A scrap of hearsay I daresay I believe. Thank god(ess) for this song.
Also the other single Sincerity is Scary was great but i’m ready to move on.
So, the day comes, the album is out. I hold off listening because I’m taking my hard earned money and going to the record store and getting it on vinyl.
So, I grab it and when I get home the time has come. I play this thing. It opens strong, a nice twisted and screwed version of their opening track that they’ve repeated a few times on other albums. The first few tracks are the singles i’ve heard plus a great track called “How To Draw / Petrichor,” I guess you could call it the mid-beginning suite of the album. It kind of sets up a sonic palette that previews what is to come. And it is beautiful.
Flip over to side two and “Love It If We Made It” begins. I think you know how I feel about that one.
At the end of this side is a banger. “I Like America and America Likes Me” is what it’s called. It is a perfect synthesis of trap high-hats and a pitched Healy voice that just is really something. Solid Gold. It’s like bubbling up from foamy water. Imagine if that Rosalía album cover was a song by Lorde. Imagine if Lorde had discovered Rae Sremmurd in 2009 and Pure Heroin was white with black letters instead of black with white letters. Imagine Bjork’s Unison but produced by Mike WiLL Made-it in 2017. It’s good shit. Period.
This is followed by “The Man Who Married a Robot / Love Theme,” a British Siri narration of a guy falling in love with the internet. It’s wild.
“Inside your Mind” opens with all the promise of a Beach House wave and ends with a repeated guitar lick that feels stadium sized; a clash of two things that I really like and are rad.
After that we pass “It's Not Living (If It's Not With You).” Yup, talked about that one. A fuckin jam.
“Surrounded by Heads and Bodies” is really good as well. Healy does harmonies in a wonderfully pleasing way and I enjoy it, but I did get a little tired at this point. Not gonna lie. “Mine” is like a jazz standard and I really like it.
Finally the album ends with “I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes).” This is a stadium song. A concert closer if I ever did hear one. Damn it’s good. Healy shows just the perfect amount of restraint in the chorus that soars man. The opening chords sound like a Dixie Chicks song and quickly becomes so fucking British it’s amazing. This is something that 8th grade me would have EATEN up in long car rides. When the guitar drops at the pre chorus……. just enjoy folks. You’ve made it to the end of an incredible journey with this band. You’re bruised but it’s mainly from dancing. You’ve got a bit of a headache but if you sing hard enough it goes away and you just wanna hear him sing “I just aaalwaaays waaaaanna dieeeee” one more time! Dissolve into the strings, close your eyes. You made it through this damn year.
In some ways i’m mad at The 1975. They’ve captured something in their art that I want to express with mine one day. A melancholy that’s so heavy, yet joy that bursts through like it’s been smiling under the sad for a long, long time. I appreciate this album and will be bumping it for years to come.
If you’ve stuck around for this long through my thoughts on this album thanks for reading. I just love music and couldn't contain these feelings. Have a good one.
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a lover on the left, a sinner on the right.
