#and my piano teacher is a bastard

[cherry-pop-elf]

Hoof Race

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Can be read as platonic

I’m going through ALOT because of a dickwad of a piano teacher. So imma just project and vent here. I love piano, but I don’t love the piano teacher. My own personal Umbridge. Bleck. So it’s gonna be sloppily written, projective, just. I’m going through a lot right now. A lot a lot.

Summary: Your first detention with Umbridge. Needless to say, very traumatizing. At least you have a pair of red heads to comfort you. Along with formed an escape plan to get you out of there. With some help

Warnings: Umbridge, scars, blood, depression, anxiety, stress, crying, trauma, Umbridge being Umbridge. Physical Violence against Reader from Umbridge, Humanism(Racism against other species) Surprise Guest Appearance for the Book Lovers from one of our favorite Divination Teachers

“Where is our little lab rat?” Fred huffed, as he was looking around for you. With George trailing behind. Looking in all the directions that Fred wasn’t looking. You had promised to meet them at Hagrid’s to test out a new product to help with calming animals. Something that was more so a Comission’s for Hagrid than anything else. Would be a nice little treat. Tea, fang, and laughter. Just one problem. Where are you?

“Should have never given Harry that map.” George would grumble, as he was getting worried now. Where were you? You aren’t one to break a promise. Especially to miss out on hanging with Hagrid. Who wants to purposely avoid a cozy evening with him? Especially since the twins had hoards of candy to share. If you missed a treat like that, it has to be beyond your control.

“Checked the dorm, checked Myrtle, checked the Requirement’s, checked the green house-“ The twins would finish each others sentences, as they walked. Trying so hard to think of where you could be. That’s when they stopped infront of the Defense Room Doors. They were open, but the office door was closed. They slowly looked to each other, before bolting inside.

“But Miss Umbridge, it hurts-!” They heard you shout, now that they were pressing their ears to the door. “It’s not suppose to feel good, darling. I should have expected such idiocy from someone who found it wise to speak out of turn-“ Umbridge would huff, as her heels could be heard pacing. A mixture of sharp clicks, and your hiccups.

“Mr. Firenze is not a THING-!” You snapped, only for a sharp smack to echo in the room. Made the twins wince, as you hiccuped again. “That beast is indeed that. Why defend that vile creature, when it even identifies itself as a beast-? Hm? Shouldn’t expect much from an idiotic child like yourself.” She lectured on.

“What do we do?” George whispered to Fred. What could they do? She was still a professor after all. Regardless, they had to do something. Anything. SOMETHING. They had to think fast, before you got even more hurt. Or worse. Expelled.

“Twins-?” A voice called itself, making the duo look over. The familiar blonde hair, and clips of hoof steps, made it clear who it was. Their newest teacher, given Umbridge very literally fired their old one. What a god send, as the twins were able to hatch a plan.

“Please please-“ They made praying hand gestures, as they pointed at her door. Making dramatic movements to try and convey they needed a distraction. Not wanting to get detention next. Never thought detention could be worse than anything Snape could offer.

The echo of another slap was what made the ever calm teacher connect the dots. Oh how he dispised such treatment. It was inhuman. That’s saying something from a man who used to live with trantulas the size of buildings. He would quickly motion for the red heads to quickly go hide under the stairs, before he cleared his throat.

“Mistress Umbridge? I need to speak with you about a matter at hand-!” He called, with a hoof stomp for added volume. The duo was quick to run under the stairs, and narrowly miss her gaze. An ever-plastered fake smile was on her lips, as she would walk down the stairs. A twitch to her eye was given, as she was now forced to speak to the centaur.

"Yes, Firenze? Whatever could you need at this late hour?" She asked, while the twins were quick to rush into the classroom. Left quite a sight. There you were, with bloody hands. To bloody to even make out what scars she had to make your write this time. Along with a firm bruise on your cheek, from her had no less. They were enraged, to put it lightly. This was the last time she would ever do this. That was their promise.

They were quick to your side, as you wrapped your arms around them. Your savior. "She just kept insulting him, and it wasn't right. He's a good teacher-" You would sniffle, as George would use his wand to try and clean your hands. He sneered at the words on your skin. Busy with tending to your immediate wounds, as Fred tried to calm you down and explain the plan.

"WAIT WAIT-I UH-I AM JUST A CENATUR! A WITCH LIKE YOURSELF KNOWS MORE THE I!" Firenze shouted, making the twins realize their time was running out. "Just be quiet, and follow our lead-" Fred just said, and you listened. Typical behavior, after all. They were always scheming, and you were happy to get into any mess they offered.

"Well....You are just a centaur. You aren't modern, or cultured, such as myself. I suppose i can remind you how we properly function here." Umbridge would smugly say, as Firenze tried so hard to not roll his eyes. Was worth it, as he was able to watch you be escorted back under the stairs. That firey red hair hidden away. Just in time, because even his calm soul can only take so much.

"Oh dear, Mar's is infront of Saturn. You know what that means, I better return to my classroom-!” She had no idea what that meant, no one did since it was a big lie. Least it sounded good enough to make her scoff. Feeling as though she wasted her time with him. Regardless, she gave a friendly smile. Now walking back towards her office.

The second her back was turned, the blonde stallion quickly motioned for the three of you to hurry to him. Fred and George basically carried you, as they did. Needing to work fast. Was just yanked around like a doll, but there was no choice. The moment Umbridge had gasped, noticing you were gone, you three were on his back.

“Where did-“ But it was faded, as you three were not having a horse ride of your life. Escaping her, this night. Quite the adrenaline rush. Riding the back of your teacher, as he tried to not trip down the stairs. Least you had Fred and George to comfort you. Holding on to the straps on their teachers body, for his supplies, and comforting you.

“Well clean you up, and make sure that this is the last time she ever hurts anyone.” Fred said, with a firm nod. You never thought the twins could look so angry before. Was scary, but also a morbid reassurance. Given Umbridge’s gaslighting was getting to you. Thinking you were a burden, failure, worthless, just horrible. Didn’t even noticed you were starting to cry. It was all too much. The boys would hold you close, and just hold.

“Dreadful woman. Dreadful dreadful just oh so dreadful-“ Firenze would keep on muttering, as he tried to not break an ankle on those ever moving stairs. Full of much spite as anyone else. Suppose that meant the twins had someone on their side, at least.

“You are gonna crash with us tonight.” Fred said to you, as Firenze took that as advice on where to go. Now heading to the Gryffindor common room. “Think of it as a big sleep over. Chilling in the common room’s living space.” George echoed. Childish, but there is joy in childhood. Had you smile in approval.

“Here, allow me to offer some assistance.” Firenze then spoke, as he rummaged in his bag. Still trotting along, as it was just a hallway roam now.

“This should help with your healing and recovery. Sometimes spells can not solve all problems.” And a small bag was offered to you three. Most likely a herbal of some kind. The kind textures were very reassuring. A reminder you weren’t crazy. That she was in the wrong. Not you. Still, made you tremble in fear.

“Gonna be ok. She’s not gonna hurt you anymore.” Fred reassured, with a kiss to your head. Followed by George hugging you tightly. Just helping ground you, as the centaur finally stopped at the painting. She didn’t even ask for the password. As if she wanted to delay much needed rest.

“Rest, if you can. When you join me for our class, tomorrow, you are permitted to not join. You may just relax, and star gaze. That often times relaxes myself.” Firenze offered, as he laid down at the open wall. Allowing you three to get off. He understood you were a victim, and offered sanctuary where he could.

“Thanks…” You sniffled, as to not be rude. He knows, he knows. He gave you a pat on your head, and a smile, before taking his escort away. Leaving you three with your thoughts. The twins mostly thought of how to make whatever happens to Umbridge look like an accident, while you were still shaking from the ordeal. Murder plots can be for another time. You were first.

Escorted to the common room couch, you were as pampered as you could be. Hands properly wrapped, the herbal deal brewed, helping clean up the blood stains, using their latest invention to help clean up your bruise. Just doing what they could, as you sniffled and hiccuped.

Once done, you were soon lying against Fred. With George semi on top of you. As if some kind of pressure therapy. A means to make sure no one could touch you, or sneak up on you. Was nice. What was nicer was the random fellow classmates who walked around. May it to get something to drink, unable to sleep, what have you.

They took notice of you, could quickly grasp it was Umbridge, and let you have your comfort. May it be making sure you three had a blanket, staying extra quiet to not disturb you, or asking if you needed anything. Just some humanity against the darkness.

The comfort of the twins, the easing calm of the tea, and the sound of the ever lit fireplace. It helped you come back to earth again. Just what you needed. Reassurance that you were the victim. Not the other way around. Just deep breaths of fire, cinnamon, and gun powder.

You’ll be ok. You’ll be ok, and the twins promised.

As if they ever would break a promise.

[blue-jisungs]

ballroom extravaganza

author's note. my dudes ir might be my fav banner i’ve ever did!!

summary. he’s one step closer to you on the ballroom extravaganza

word count. 1563

warnings, genre. royal/medieval-ish vibes? kinda angsty if u look at it :) ;; lower class!dk, royal-ish!y/n, alcohol consumption

the room was beautifully decorated. good ornaments everywhere: candlesticks, long curtains falling onto the wooden floor like waterfalls, the chandeliers. the railings and cornices on the ceiling shone with a goldish glint too; even the champagne in his glass reflected with it.

seokmin examined the dresses and suits of people surrounding him, all of them wearing the most exquisite and elegant clothing. after all such a ball was an opportunity to shine. he wasn’t any different – black smoking adorning his body, the brown hair on his head styled with gel.

nevertheless, he felt uneasy; he knew he didn’t belong here. no matter the clothes he was wearing or if his hairstyle was fashionable, it was all a cover. seokmin’s heart pounded with anxiety that eventually someone will discover that he’s a simple man from the lower class.

the champagne turned bitter in his mouth as he tried to drink his thoughts away. the taste of such exclusive alcohol made him realize it’s probably the first and last time he’s drinking it.

then he came to a conclusion that he’d rather be tonight.

seokmin made up his mind (rather seungkwan, his younger assistant, knocked some sense into his head… quite literally, with his fists) and decided to confess to you.

because truth be told, he knew you two wouldn’t form a relationship even in his wildest dreams. seokmin was a very regular lower class teacher from the countryside and you; oh, you. you were the daughter of a rich landlord who held an important role in the local government.

the sudden realization hit him like gust of cold wind and yet again he felt strange in this place, where everything was huge, expensive and out of his world.

seokmin felt grateful he could even look at it or at you.

he met you through jihoon, a musical genius who once was passing by seokmin’s village and heard him singing. that’s when they met – jihoon was amazed by his voice and singing abilities, nagging him to train. he offered to do it for free at the beginning since he knew that seokmin can barely afford new shoes.

soon enough jihoon took his pupil to his musical studio in the capital. pianos, guitars, flutes… even a harp! it all made seokmin speechless. but it didn’t leave him as half as flattered in comparison with your meeting.

the delicate sound of the harp filled the room, seokmin holding his breath. he watched mesmerised how one of jihoon’s students moved his fingers and ever-so-gently nudged the strings.

jihoon’s brows were knitted as he nodded, listening carefully. as a teacher, he was terrifying. as a private person… he was scary. but despite the cold mask, seokmin saw through him and noticed a pure, gold heart. he got here somehow in the first place, no?

suddenly, there was a sound of door slamming open which halted the peaceful atmosphere. jihoon let out a sigh and looked up, seokmin’s gaze following his. then, he saw you.

your face was so beautiful that he genuinely thought like he was hallucinating. the e/c eyes sparkling with excitement and a huge smile painting on your lips, h/c hair flowing elegantly on your arms. your dress was pretty too; even from the first glance anyone could tell you’re rich. the pinks and whites contrasting together, creating a princess aura–

“jihoonah, you bastard! why didn’t you tell me you’re back in town, you little rodent?!” you whined and seokmin’s eyes widened in shock. well, he didn’t expect - and met, so far - any girl behaving like that here.

jihoon stood up and walked up to you, placing a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“ugh, can you not? we’ve talked about this before” you whined and the man just giggled.

“y/n, this is seokmin. seokmin, this is miss y/n. normally, she isn’t behaving like a spoiled brat but apparently she only does around me. now… joshua, did i tell you to stop playing?” the last question cut through air like a sharp knife. joshua, jihoon's student, quickly returned to play the harp. seokmin used this moment to steal a few more glances at you, visibly whipped.

“hello” you said shyly, realizing just now that jihoon isn’t alone. seokmin stands up and bows gently.

“it’s my pleasure to meet you” he grinned and it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but smile too.

“now, seokmin. remember when i said there’s a purpose for your presence here? you’ll be y/n’s new singing teacher. i will leave because of the upcoming opera in paris and miss y/n has to have a teacher. even though you’re not that professional, you do have a natural talent” jihoon announced, your eyes widening in shock.

“you’re… leaving?” you asked.

“me… a teacher?” seokmin muttered, flabbergasted.

suddenly the crowd had come to a halt, his eyes meeting yours across the ballroom. he smiled and you excused the person who was talking to you, approaching him.

looking beautiful, as always, his heart sped up. the puffy beige dress was elegant yet nothing too fancy to make you stand out. however, seokmin thought that you were the prettiest here; looking like royalty.

“min!” you grinned and bowed gently. all words and thoughts unexpectedly disappeared from his brain, vanishing into thin air.

“y/n… miss y/n” he stuttered out, palms staring to her sweaty. you sent him a reassuring smile.

“you must feel so… overwhelmed. you look nervous. and handsome too, by the way. let’s get some air, teacher” you put your hands together; even your posture being graceful as if you were a carved marble statue.

“no, no. i’m fine. i wanted to talk to you about one concern that… has been on my mind” seokmin finally managed to word out something. your brows furrowed ever so gently and you nodded.

“i see. i, too, have an announcement to share” a quiet mumble left your lips, almost getting lost in the rustle of the room.

now it was his turn to frown. you seemed rather upset.

“go first, please” you gestured with your head. he saw jihoon coming towards you.

“let’s go to the dance floor, i see a predator approaching” you giggled and before jihoon (the predator in question) could open his mouth, you snatched seokmin’s hand and landed in the middle of the dance floor.

“i shouldn’t… dance with you. what will people say?” he mumbled, putting his hand on your hip gently as if we was afraid that he’ll hurt you.

“i couldn’t care less, min. we’re friends. what was it you wanted to say?” you asked, looking at him through your eyelashes. he took a deep breath, hoping you didn’t feel how clammy his hands got.

“y/n, i think… no, i’m certain. i’m certain that i like you more than a friend” seokmin answered. if you were surprised, you didn’t let it show.

just swaying to the rhythm of music (that was slowly building up), you let the words sink in your mind. then he noticed your gaze wandering around the room, stopping upon a certain point.

“i- i know we wouldn’t work out but i just- i’ve been mesmerized by you ever since you bursted into jihoon’s classroom door and i can’t… can’t stop thinking about you” he breathed out, trying to save the situation.

the music tempo sped up a bit, you looked him in the eye.

“seokmin, you’re a really cute guy. perfect, if you think about it. caring, loves to work with kids, patient. and… it’s not- it’s not even about you being from the countryside” you smiled softly and when the music came to a climax, making the pairs come to a halt – and so did his heart too upon hearing your next words “jihoon proposed to me”

the world stopped. seokmin felt his smile disappear, air flowing out of his lungs. ringing in his ears got as annoying as a mosquito buzzing around his ear.

“he got filthy rich after the opera display in paris. my dad forced me to agree so… we’ll announce it today, hence the ball. and then…” you gulped, fingers drumming against his arms.

“then what?” he choked out. his heart just got crashed into millions of pieces that he will never be able to put together.

“then we’ll get married in paris and stay there. jihoon signed a contract with the theatre” you added quietly. staring at you, seokmin felt weak.

you know all the words to the play

but alliI wanted was you to stay

your time is running thin

'cause i'm falling through the cracks under your floor

“seokmin, i’m sorry but… i can’t say no” you said, voice cracking. it was getting hard to breathe but he managed to pull the best smile he coulf.

“i understand. you’re a part of me… now you’ll just be apart from me. but… it’s fine. good luck in the new chapter of your life” he hummed, heart aching so painfully he thought he’s dying.

he let you go, stepping aside.

you're one step closer to me

on the ballroom extravaganza

i know you won't find me anymore

i triеd to reach for you once more

seokmin walked away, deciding to leave the room. he only heard jihoon walking up to you. feeling your gaze burning through his back, he made a mental promise to not turn back.

but thе world came crashing to the ground.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

[cementarybf]

The woods brothers.

" A duet never played ."

(A series of my headcanons for both the brothers except its not in order AT ALL)

• I was originally just gonna copy and paste my docs of them for this I'm ngl..

• Between the two jeff is the youngest, being three years apart from the older.

• Jeff's a bastard child within the woods family, as his mother committed infidelity making him a foreign mixed child in his home environment (his mother being Chinese, his biological father being Hispanic)

• Liu had been more than excited to be a big brother, even if his mother was less than excited. He would cuddle up with her, mostly to whisper to her belly about how excited he was to be a big brother and that he loved his little sibling already.

• jeff is actually trans his dead name being (junjíe俊傑 meaning elite,high standing) a name he actually prided himself on, but when they moved to Ohio (WHICH ACTUALLY IS CANON?? WHY IS HE IN OHIO) he wanted to be more..Americanized, mainly due to the bullying he suffered for keeping a foreign name- teachers struggling to pronounce it made him disgusted so he chose a simpler name one that they couldn't make fun of.

• jeff was never deemed as "normal", growing up he struggled to behave like other children- diagnosed at an early age with [ narcissistic personality disorder ] and [ early stage child apathy ] which stemmed from a series of neglect given from his parents along with the strict religious household.

• due to this liu had taken up the role of raising his younger brother without much issue, due to taking up the parental role his own view on his parents had easily soured over time when he had gotten into multiple arguments with them.

• liu and jeff were pratically attatched at the hip mostly due to jeff seemingly mimicking his brothers behavior as to appear more friendly to his peers which in the end worked, as he was quite liked in his schools.

• liu had originally been the only one in the family to play piano but jeff followed suit easily only for a moment before he took up learning violin instead as he found it be more suiting. A perfect duet they had made.

• they originally had lived in shenzen before moving to Ohio due to their father getting a job relocation out there (hence jeffs sudden urge to fit ih)

• jeff never actually told his parents he was transitioning due to his mother's heavy religious belief, he'd rather let her believe he was being a "tomboy" then tell her.

• jeff and liu had done multiple recitals together once jeff finally got to understand how to perfectly play the piano. However they never did get to finish their duet that they written themselves.

• liu was the only person he told, along with the one he had asked to cut his hair. He hasn't cut his hair nor let anyone else cut his hair since that night due to the fact he doesn't know how to and is more afraid he'd mess it up (we gotta go bald moment).

• liu was NOT sent to a jail when he took the blame for jeff but instead a boarding school for troubled youth where he may or may have not discovered he may have been bisexual.

• after dying and being revived by a mortician [SUSAN] who was all too curious about death, he met [BALAAM (SULLY)] who had used his jiangshi state against him and encouraged him to eat the woman so she could have her soul.

• after trading a part of his soul and entering a contract with [BALAAM(SULLY] his memory is EXTREMELY bad, similar to a goldfish he's constantly forgetting things and doesn't actually remember how he died outside of the autopsy report. He doesn't remember jeff but he knows he had a brother and that he needs to find him. Even in death he still needs to take the role of worrying for him.

• jeff cannot stand hearing classical music or anything with piano, due to it reminding him of liu and how guilty he is.

• jeff once tried to play violin again but due to his nerves being so badly damaged and the face he was missing his finger on one hand he couldn't play it perfectly, it caused him to have a melt down and he in rage he smashed it to pieces.

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

The Good People(@grosutina) have demanded, and here it is!

Some Movie recommendations for all you beautiful bastards out there😘

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Starting off with some italian goodness:

Cinema Paradiso (theatrical cut) - this is THE homage to cinema for me, one of my favourite ever endings, and Ennio Morricone's score is muah!

:::

Il Postino / The Postman (good companion to Cinema Paradiso I think)

:::

Babettes gæstebud /Babette's Feast

:::

Amadeus (1984) (you know me, of course it's here)

:::

The Fall (the treatiest of treats for your eyeballs)

:::

Trois Couleurs / Three Colours Trilogy: Blue, White, Red

:::

Terry Gilliam's Imagination Trilogy:

Time Bandits

Brazil (the 142 minute long version, my friend @dongtopus you might like this one since you were getting into Kafka, it's the closest to a kafkaesque nightmare I've ever seen)

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen

:::

La Grande Bellezza / The Great Beauty

:::

Dangerous Liaisons (recommend the book too it's a great read)

:::

Triple Feature of Irish Pain and Dark Comedy™ aka The Brendan Gleeson Cinematic Universe: Calvary (2014)

In Bruges

The Banshees of Inisherin

:::

Bonus Irish Pain™:

Hunger

In the Name of the Father

:::

And some Irish light fun to take a breather after those:

Waking Ned / Waking Ned Devine

:::

Some Michael Haneke cuz he's quickly becoming a favourite (warning: messed up and heavy content alert with this lad):

Funny Games (he directed both the 1997 og and the 2007 american remake, I've only seen the 97 one but I hear you're good with either, with the 2007 remake actually being closer to Haneke's vision)

La Pianiste / The Piano Teacher

Das weiße Band / The White Ribbon

:::

A Field In England (a recent fave, 12 days of shooting, 2 fields, clever editing and sound design gave birth to the best wizard battle put to film)

:::

El Laberinto del Fauno / Pan's Labyrinth (it isn't as talked about as other Guillermo del Toro films but it's still my favourite of his)

:::

The Seventh Seal (reminder to self to watch more Bergman, this is the only one of his I've watched shame on me)

:::

Some Van Gogh goodness:

Loving Vincent (fuck it 2 pics for this one cuz I can't choose)

At Eternity's Gate

:::

Some Claymation and stop motion goodness:

The Adventures of Mark Twain

Anomalisa

To be Continued...

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Piano Lessons

"!Businessman Sabo x !Noble!fem Reader. Sabo has to work from empty hands to his rich status. When he was still poor, he worked as a music teacher for the nobles. Sabo always hated the nobles who spend their lives wasting moneys. That is until he was hired to teach reader, who is a noble's daughter, to play the piano. Reader likes him a lots. Sabo learns from reader that not all nobles are rotten, and starts to fall for her. However, he denied his feelings since he hated nobles and ended up part way with her after she mastered the piano. Then, about two years later, Sabo earns the status of a wealthy businessman that can level with a nobleman. He usually thinks of reader and fantasize about their love. One time, at a ball, reader found him and talked to him about her crush on him two years ago. Sabo got worked up but also found out she doesn't like him anymore and regret not confessing two years ago. Sabo then starts his journey to flirt with reader until she falls for him again. Ending is for you to decide. To sum up this is a tsundere/mean Sabo that gradually turns into a lovesick Sabo."

Okay, part 1, lol

Part 2, Part 3

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1620

     Walking into the bright, opulent entryway, Sabo couldn’t help but think that this was one of, many, reasons as to why he hated these people. Large open rooms that served no purpose but to show off how much money they had. Sparkling white marble floors, elegant wooden walls, and the biggest chandelier he’d seen since he was a child. Completely empty save for a few end tables, vases filled with flowers, and statuettes. Pointless. Hearing the telltale clack of expensive heels on the staircase, Sabo held back his exasperated sigh as he looked up. Unsurprisingly, an older woman dressed in luxurious silk stood at the landing at the top of the second flight of stairs, looking down on him as if he were mere dirt beneath her heel. After a moment, she finished descending the stairs, once more looking him over appraisingly.

     “So you’re the boy my husband hired as a piano teacher? Come, I want you to play for me before I entrust my daughter’s lessons to you.” With just those two sentences, Sabo already hated this woman. Judging him on his clothing or what she’d heard from her husband. Skeptical about his skills simply because he wasn’t a rich piano instructor. Maybe he could fool them into thinking he was just ‘so talented that he chose his own students’. It wouldn’t be hard to get a bit more money from them. 

     Following the woman, he wasn’t surprised to see one of the most beautiful grand pianos sitting in the next room. Undoubtedly worth more than all of his and his brother’s possessions combined and multiplied by 10. Looking over the piano, he had to hold back another sigh. A piano made by the world renowned crafter who made all the expensive grand pianos. Rosewood made up all the wooden parts with wood, fine leather on the piano chair, keys that almost certainly contained ivory and ebony, strings made of some high quality steel that he could probably use as a garotte wire to kill these rich bastards. The list of expensive materials went on and to be honest, it annoyed the hell out of him. Even still, he had a job to do and it was paying a lot more than his usual jobs. 

     Sitting in front of the piano, he grabbed one of the hardest songs he had sheet music for, thankful that he’d brought it despite his earlier thoughts about not bringing it. Thankfully he didn’t have to finish playing it before the woman interrupted him, having heard enough.

     “Fine, fine, you can teach our daughter, but I swear, you’d better not even look at her! She’s my precious daughter and I don’t want someone like you getting the idea that you’re even so much as equal to her.” With that, the woman turned on her heel and left, leaving Sabo to seethe. He might have to cut a wire from the piano once he was finished just to annoy the hell out of them. They might not care about the money it would take to replace it, but it would be nice to inconvenience them in any way possible. It was a few minutes before a young woman walked in. Dressed in nice clothing, though it didn’t look like the silk her mother wore, and hair carefully styled by, probably, a maid whose skills could probably rival that of a stylist. 

     Taking a deep breath, he prepared for whatever snotty, entitled attitude she’d give him. Reaching him, she stood beside the bench for a moment.

     “My mother told me you’re my piano instructor. So where should we start?” your voice was more melodious than he’d expected, not tainted with the arrogant privilege of most nobles. It was… startling. Sabo stood up and offered her the seat.

     “We’ll start with the basics, just learning the keys and notes, just the easy things.” he said, pulling out another sheet. It was a ‘my first piano’ book, the first page showing a picture of the keys on the piano and what notes they were as well as a basic line of easy notes. You nodded and looked at the book, listening to the boy closely. Sure enough, he was teaching you some pretty simple things, keeping you to one side of the piano so he wouldn’t overwhelm you while helping you memorize the keys.

     It wasn’t long until he was packing his things up. He hadn’t expected this lesson to take long, not wanting to do too much while you were still working on the keys. Closing this bag, he looked up to see you offering the book you’d been using to him.

     “Keep it for now. I want you to continue practicing the keys between our lessons. You should have a butler or someone who knows the keys and can help make sure you’re doing it right.” Sabo said, watching as you nodded and put the book back.

     “Alright, when is our next lesson?” you asked, giving him a smile. Sabo took a moment to think. Should he wait a while to memorize the keys and practice or should he visit sooner? Would it take you a long time to memorize the right keys and the notes? Maybe you’d barely take any time at all.

     “I’ll come back next week to see how you’re doing. We’ll go from there.” Sabo said after a moment as he stood up from backing his bag. Finally, Sabo looked up at you. He’d mostly been focusing on your hands and the piano keys until now. Not because of what your mother said, but so he could make sure you were doing things right. Now that he had gotten a look at you, he couldn’t help but think about how beautiful you were. You were dressed nicely, but the clothes suited you rather than making you look pompous. Your hair that he’d previously thought was carefully styled was tied back and topped with a simple headband so your hair wouldn’t get in your eyes while you learned how to play. It was all clearly nice and worth quite a bit, but it was simple and more understated than your mother’s clothing. Business casual and simplistic, suitable for a stroll through the nearby park but far too nice for the dark alleyways and ramshackle apartments of where he and his brothers lived. Beautiful eyes looked at him with a gentle, kind, cheerfulness and a light smile graced your lips. Simple and elegantly beautiful. It was enough to make his breath catch in his throat for a moment before remembering that you were a noble just like your parents, just like them. 

     “Then I’ll be sure to practice everyday.” you said, taking the words right out of his mouth.

     Sure enough, he was back the following week, surprised by how quickly you’d memorized many of the keys. It was slow and you made frequent mistakes, but it was more than he’d expected. He’d spent the rest of that day’s lesson teaching you more keys and correcting your mistakes before leaving once more. He had to admit, he found your dedication admirable, he doubted most nobles worked this hard, finding their lessons ‘boring’. Another thing he’d been surprised about was how different you were. You weren’t at all like your parents. dedicated instead of lazy, humble rather than arrogant, accepting instead of judgemental, and so very, very kind. You’d even begun to strike up conversations with him. Nothing involving your lessons, just talking about life or his work. You learned that he was going to college and about his brothers. Likewise, he learned about you. How you enjoyed reading over sitting around gossiping, your dedication to anything that you were interested in or tried, and your desire to do more to help others. You’d even begun to show him that there were a couple of nobles that weren’t too bad. Afterall, you existed.

     Looking up at Sabo, you waited for him to say something. The lessons had been going on for months now, your skills improving rather quickly. To be honest, part of the reason you’d been improving so quickly was because you wanted to impress him. He was handsome, smart, and caring, how could you not develop a crush on the blond? Likewise, he was starting to fall for you and fast. He didn’t want to admit it, but with each lesson, he found you more and more enchanting until he found himself fully dreaming about you. Not just a simple daydream, but invading his unconscious mind and filling his every moment. The kind of people he claimed to hate, the kind of people who pissed him off and one of them had caught his eye. Not that he would ever admit to caring about you. You were only in his dreams because he was impressed by how quickly you were learning. He was only thinking about you because he was wondering how much money he could squeeze out of your parents for teaching you so much. 

     Finally, standing outside your front door, he looked at the lavish house that loomed over him. He’d just finished your final lesson, you’d performed a lovely piece for your parents and they’d been rather pleased with his work, receiving a rather large sum of money for his work. It would be the last time he would see you, after this there would be no reason for you to cross paths again, no reason for you to continue seeing each other. A pang ran through his chest. The two of you wouldn’t see each other again, this was it. Part of him wanted to hurry back in, to say something, but he couldn’t, there was no reason to… right?

[eye-of-yelough]

one person said they were interested so…

The updated Aeryn (my Dark Urge) intro post! This freak 👇

Backstory/Key Points: Bhaal created Aeryn with the idea of a whole new race of pure waterbreathing bhaalspawn (pure because of githyanki asexual reproduction/egg laying) he used githyanki as a sort of “base” for their psionic abilities and rapid aging in their hatchling years. Aeryn is a slightly canon-divergent durge, he was supposed to mother this race who would take over the world, not take it over himself. He was found as an egg in a swamp by a drow scientist/scholar and his human wife, they raised him less out of the goodness of their hearts and more to see if a Githyanki could be normal (on that Society Of Brilliance grind) despite this they were very loving and made sure to drill empathy, humility and morals into him from a young age, to ensure he doesn’t follow in the footsteps of his brutal kin. (they had no idea how right they were, the sorry bastards) He blacked out, killed them and left home at age 10 because they tried to have the piano teacher who groomed him arrested.😬 he was taken in by a Warlock who introduced him to the world of crime, dark magic and hellian shit as he came into his Bhaalspawn self. eventually he became too much for the warlock to handle and he sold him to an entity that would eventually become his own patron. a few years later he was spat back out into Baldurs Gate and that’s when he met Sceleritas and joined the cult, at 21.

He works as a nurse and mercy killer, and clings on to his sanity for dear life by convincing himself he’s an angel who was sent to ease the world’s suffering by ending it, The Mercy Dagger. enter The Iron Fist, who comes along and uhhh basically just fucking breaks that boys brain over the span of 12-13 years. soulmates but make it platonic and a horror story, that’s the aeryn & gortash vibe. They’re two highly delusional people t fanning the flames of each others bullshit, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. One of Gortash’s main weird Things is a very sincere, very dangerous belief that Aeryn, born within a month of him being sold to Raphael, stole his heart that day. Somehow it’s the only way his insane brain can rationalise the fondness he feels for him. He is uhh. very weird about Aeryn’s heart. likes to press down on his pulse at random moments even in public just to make sure His Heart is healthy, and feel it speed up in anticipation. kinda turns him on. they’re really normal about each other i promise.

Extra info: uhh hes hypersexual and deeply genderweird and those things are kind of intertwined in a very fucked up way. he wears masks day to day pre tadpole to hide his githyanki (ish) features because they make him very conspicuous and some people straight up physically recoil at the sight of his face.

here’s my fave screencap of him and a little moodboard (?) of some very aeryn-coded posts 👍

[angel5ofp0rn]

Legit tho like ion let anyone disrespect my husband like Parker may be a butthead but he's MY butthead and it's gonna take a hot sec for him to grow a pair of trousers but he should do that too and not let people throw shade at me 😠🥺

Couple old bitchy coworkers showed up at MY grandma's funeral [they were friends with the aunt], neither liked me AT ALL and the feeling is mutual, but they both ADORE Parker so obviously they gotta scoot me outta the way to talk to him and the boy let them

Man if I wasn't close to tears I was so close to throwing hand with those crusty old bastards. I just left to go talk to my old piano teacher, who was good buddies with gramma, who is also my adopted gramma because bless that little old lady's soul

But C’mon I need the husband man to throw hands for me sometimes 😫

I had a boyfriend in hs that literally beat a dude up for making a face to me at a bonfire and i’ve been chasing that high ever since man 😩 rip to him (and ur granny)

[chaberkowepole]

I was in Warszawa stare miasto (Old Town) yesterday

And maybe it's all those stories, songs and poems that I have been infused with since childhood but damn. I never expected to be hit like that. By a city I have never seen.

Its beauty took my breath away. I hadn't expected it to be so pretty. And at the same time, every step was accompanied by immense grief.

They say pre-war Warsaw was as pretty as Vienna. If you've ever been to Vienna, you know what I'm talking about.

I was constantly wondering, which building is new and which one has survived the bombing. I have never felt the density of sheer history in the air as much as on nowy świat, krakowskie przedmieście and close to the castle. Not even in Rome, which obviously is objectively older and thus fuller with history. But this felt closer to... Home.

Those streets, they look very much like any other European Old Town, they're bustling with life and there's cafés and restaurants on every step.

And yet. After every few steps. There's a sign. Again. And again. And again. The Nazis killed people here. They lined them up and shot them here. And here. And here. And here too. And here.

[Image ID: Memorial Tablet commemorating Germans shooting 30 Poles, some of them randomly, on the street. There are flowers and znicze underneath. End ID]

[Image ID: Two Memorial Tablets, one commemorating Russian Crimes during 19th century partitions in which they destroyed Chopin memorabilia, along with his piano, the other commemorating Gymnasium teachers (secondary education) who continued teaching during WW2 German occupation. End ID]

[Memorial Tablet and flowers in Polish white-red colours, commemorating the wounded people from the Warsaw uprising that got treated in an insurgent hospital. German occupants seized it, shot some of the wounded and poured gasoline over others and burned them alive. End ID.]

And the castle, the king's castle that we raised from ruins. That Germans destroyed entirely. Like they bombed down the entire city. To not leave us anything. Because they wanted to erase our history and subjugate our people.

[Image ID: on the left, picture of the ruined castle 1944. Only rubble is left. On the right, the rebuilt castle. It is red in colour. End ID]

And rage, and grief I didn't know I still had carried shot up in me and I understood now why our resistance were shedding blood for those streets. I could almost feel the bullets flying in the air, like a weird time-echo I faintly picked up on through the layers of the years.

I think the right all too often co-opts this anger, this grief, and twists it to suit their purposes. But this is not a good reason to bury it, either. Buried anger like this breeds resentment. So for the first time, I let myself feel it and I wanted to do things to the Nazis and everyone who collaborated with them that I will not write down here.

But we shouldn't stop here. Instead, we could channel it to something productive. The same thing is happening to our Ukrainian neighbours, right now. How much their hearts must bleed when they see the streets of Kijv destroyed. Or any other Ukrainian city dear to them. It's their work, their efforts, their culture, their history. Their home.

So support Ukraine right now. Support Ukrainian refugees. Support All refugees that are escaping bombardements of their homes. Combat the ideology that leads to this destruction. In your own town, in our country. Support Polish Jewish people, Polish Trans people, Polish Lgbtqia+ people, Polish Disabled people, Polish Muslims. Elections are coming up, vote those right wing bastards out of this beautiful city, that we rebuilt again through sheer willpower.

[Image ID: on the left, the destroyed market square from 1945. There's rubbel lying everywhere, a group of people are standing in front. On the right, the same market square, today, rebuilt. Each house is very colourful and the walls are painted & decorated. A statue of the mermaid, Warsaw's emblem, is standing in the centre. Her arm is raised, holding a sword. Her other hand holds a shield. End ID.]

[sleepydane]

5 mutuals and 15 questions! 🥳🥳 I'll tag up here: @amrtiamat​ @preluvz​ @3nigm4art​ @oriopiuwu​ @anyawen​

Were you named after anyone?

No one! I’m so sexy, I named myself >:)

(fr tho if you’re counting only first names, they just happened to like a random name, and then picked my gma’s name for a middle name!)

When was the last time you cried?

No idea! I do not keep track bc if you saw me crying, no u didn’t. Couldn’t have been that long ago though I suppose?

Do you have kids?

Nope. (2022)

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

If depends on if I either like you a lot or if I really dislike you but it’s mostly online talk only. Not so much IRL (well except with family).

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Once again, it depends honestly. Some people’s clothes stand out first, some people’s faces, some people’s personality, I guess it’s just whatever about that person is loudest when I first meet them!

What's your eye color?

Water-logged dirt brown!

Scary movies or happy endings?

Why not both? Happy could just mean cathartic honestly. In the same way that Midsommar (2019) was horror with a truly bad ending but also?? it was a payoff too. It felt right in the worst possible way. It doesn’t need to be happy, it just needs to make sense. I suppose I lean more horror though?

Any special talents?

Art I guess? There is no talent I have that I haven’t spent about 500 yrs cultivating lol. I play piano too but very poorly and I no longer remember how to read sheet music on the fly but the few songs I know by heart? Yeah I like to think I’m decent at them.

Where were you born?

rural west babieee.

What are your hobbies?

Art, uhmm piano sometimes, bookbinding (and by default editing to fit the format I use), cooking when I’m feeling alright, reading, and watching my silly little shows with my crew!

Have any pets?

Yes, my little bastard cat!

What sports do you play/have you played?

Used to do children’s ballet, rode horses for a bit, and also played soccer for a season (I was absolutely horrible at it to the point my couch had nothing to say about me at the end of the season party lol).

How tall are you?

yes :3c

Favorite subject in high school?

Alternated between English and History buuuut I was always the history teacher’s favorite little meow meow and it definitely captivated me more !

Dream job?

Eat hot chip and lie.

(I don’t know, at this point I just want to go to a job that I know what I’m doing and can hopefully do meaningful work? I would like to pay the bills and not have to lean on anyone financially though, that’s my basic goal)

@hetakiba​ Thank you for the tag and also HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DUDE!!!!! 🎂 🎂 🎂

[augment-techs]

Ok here’s another one that’s been bugging me for a while so I’m gonna transfer the worm yo you:

“I wish you’d write a fic where Billy wants to learn to lay the piano and he gets Skull to teach him… ✨sparks fly✨ and also Skull realises Billy has a lovely voice and they do duets together now”

“Well,” Billy scuffed his toe down to the ground, half shy boy before a teacher he’d never had before in his entire life—too small and too smart for his own good—and part baby animal finding its feet in front of what might be a good friend or a predator, “I’m missing out on additions, secondary lessons that would allow my future to secure itself outside of high school. So, Miss Appleby suggested you?” “Liar.” Billy flinched, looking up from his foot to find Skull with his arms crossed, jacket still hung up on the rack to keep the length out of the way of the ivory and pitch keys of the majestic looking piano that Billy happened to know for a fact the school would not have been able to keep up the payments for if Skull himself didn’t maintain it with those long fingers, those careful eyes, the tools of the trade he’d gotten from Grid only knew where. His frame was still wiry, still pale, but Billy could appreciate that he did, in fact, carry a little bit more muscle than he did sixteen months ago. Nothing like running from Putties and Kaiju and curses to build up the heavy mass. (A little part of Billy’s brain was curious about how that was working out for Skull’s sylphlike legs, but he also knew he’d never find out, given that the young man hadn’t worn shorts in public since before his voice dropped.) He swiveled his eyes from hairless arms up to mercury eyes, eyebrows up and the lips that were thin with the serious aura he was giving off. Right. Eugene didn’t take bullshit about piano matters. Fibbing really wouldn’t work here. (--But he’d have to try.) Billy straightened his back with a cough and scratched the fluff at the back of his head, “I’m sure I don’t know how you’d come to that conclusion.” Skull leaned forward, hands to his knees—really subtle, but still a hit against Billy’s being a head shorter since Skull’s latest growth spurt (if he kept growing until he was twenty-one, Billy swore he’d walk into the ocean; this wasn’t fair)—until they were almost nose tip to nose tip. And he smirked that self-assured “I’ve got all the cards so don’t even bother” smirk that Billy very much was thankful did not make him look like his (rat bastard son of a bitch) father or (evil, self-serving, hellspawn) mother, but made him look more and more like the man he was going to be. If only he looked this assured in real life instead of in a room that at present felt closed off from the rest of reality as Skull prodded with amusement, “There is nothing in all the world that would keep teachers from this town from passing you onwards into the future with full honors and the deed to their souls if you asked. Even with you running around for the Youth Center and Promethea and whatever else it is that calls you out of class, you’re still head of the class—except English, because you’re more for numbers than language and literature—“ “How would you know that?” “I know lots of things; don’t interrupt,” Skull hummed, spinning on his heel to saunter back over to the piano’s bench, pulling it out and taking a seat with a cross of his legs and his hands folded at the knee, “You will pass regardless of extra-curricular classes or activities. I’m sure Miss Appleby did point you in my direction because she’s a sweetheart who would hang the moon if you asked her nicely; but it wasn’t because you’re lacking in class credits. So, what are you doing here?” “I…” “Hm?” “I need to learn a new skill.” “We’ve established that as the root of this whole sing-along, William; my hiccup is the why.” Billy ground his jaw and swayed his head back on his neck like a ghost of the boy Skull had been so familiar with for most of their younger lives. All fluffy yellow hair and glasses trying to hold on as his head bobbed back and his middle finger coming up to press the frames up along his nose.

[dribs-and-drabbles]

My School President ep 12

This is entirely for @grapejuicegay, whom I have a tendency of screaming to in our dms when I watch potentially exciting episodes of ql dramas...but didn't during ep 12 of msp because kk hadn't watched it yet and I didn't want to spoil her. Hence I screamed them all here and now I'm posting them for all the world to see how my brain works 😂

God the way they drew that out!!! But I love that Tinn's mum backed out and asked how Gun's mum is doing instead. I also think it's so poignant that the piano at the side is covered up...

I wanted Tinn to be brave and tell her!

Oh Gun's confession was so good! I teared up. But it's so sad to see the difference between both their relationships with their mothers.

Oh oh oh...a prediction -> Tinn's mum will stand up for Tinn and Gun if the homophopic teacher is actually homophobic. And that's how Tinn will realise him mum knows and that's how she will let Tinn know support him.

Sorry, but blue and red with anchors just makes me think of Pat and Pran at the beach. 🤷🏽���♀️😅

Cheeky fu*king bastard!. Love it. unhinged Gun!

"My heart has three states: solid, liquid, and solidly yours." 😂😂😂

LESBIANS!

A tandem bike ride! The TinnGun boyfriend era is SO ADORABLE!

SCREAMING!! THEIR FIRST KISS!! WAS SO PERFECT!!!!

They all knew but Por! 😂 And Sound and Win having no secrets! Beautiful!!

😭 Gun thought he was helping but it's not what Tinn wanted in the end. Oh he's doing the holding his nose thing so he doesn't cry! And their dancing song came back, they're almost dancing in the rain 😭

Basically a montage of all of us watching them become boyfriends.

Tiw spouting the truth. My baby boi Mark can do nothing wrong.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT WAS KAIJORN WHO PUNCHED THE TEACHER!!!!!!!! He so fu*king deserved it too. I wanted to punch him.

YES FU*KING YES! TINN'S MUM CAME THROUGH!! I knew it! I knew it!

Ahhhhhhh the whole prom was gorgeous! I LOVE flustered Gun. But what about Tiw and Por?!?!? I need moar.

How?! HOW?! HOW CAN THEY USE THAT MUSIC!!! (iykyk)

Awww Sound and Win are fantastic! And more Tiw and Por crumbs! But poor Pat!!

*head empty, no thoughts*

Tinn's dad playing wingman! Yes!

*sigh*

Well...that was perfect 😭😭😭

[alt-zombee]

Yo, yo, fuck 2DopeBoyz and fuck Nah Right And any other fuck-nigga-ass blog that can't put an 18-year-old nigga Makin' his own fuckin' beats, covers, videos and all that shit Fuck you post-Drake-ass cliche-jerkin', LA-slauson rappin' Fuck-nigga-ass Hypebeast niggas Now back to the album

Well, Tyler, hi, I'm Dr. TC, and um, I'm guessin' That your teacher sent you here to talk 'cause you were misbehavin' Um, it's gonna be three sessions, today, tomorrow, Wednesday So, just tell me somethin' about yourself Well look, if you don't talk, I mean these sessions are goin' to go slower

This is what the devil plays before he goes to sleep Some food for thought some food for death, go ahead and fuckin' eat My father's dead, well I don't know, we'll never fuckin' meet I cut my wrist and play piano 'cause I'm so depressed Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed This meetin' just begun, nigga, I'm Satan's son

My mother raised me, a single parent, so it's apparent That I got love for my mother, none of you other fuckers Are much important, I'm gettin' angrier while recordin' I'm feelin' like the bulls, I've got a gang of wolves Odd Future is children that's fucked up on they mental Simple, but probably not, fuck 'em

I'm tall, dark, skinny, my ears are big as fuck Drunk white girls, the only way I'll get my dick sucked Suspended from school, coolest nigga without effort Easy to spot like black bitches with fake leopard Soak me up in a tampon, but keep the lamp on 'Cause this album pack enough evil That you can't fit inside a Jansport Go to school with this

I go from AP to JC inside a fuckin' week Wakin' up with random girls like, "Yo, bitch, how the fuck we meet?" I stay with grandma, she always bitchin' about her carpet Every time I walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit No to drugs, I never spark it, I used to be bullied for honor classes By those that were slow as molasses Take this shit to school

Raquel treat me like my father, like a fuckin' stranger She still don't know I made Sarah to strangle her Not put her in danger and chop her up in the back of a Wrangler All because she said no to homecomin', demons runnin' Inside my head tellin' me evil thoughts I'm the dream catcher, but nothin' but nightmares are caught Go to sleep

I wear green hats because I'm fortunately lucky "Fuck me, " the monster said, somehow the monster's dead Inside of me, but the thoughts it tells me are still evil With this state of mind, big moves, Max Keeble I'm on my grind feeble, my music is either A fucking sin or too illegal, play this shit in church

I graduated without honors or fuckin' father He died (I'm so sorry), no bitch, don't even fuckin' bother I wanted a brother, my mother I told her But instead I got a sister, just like me with her mister nada So both of our imaginations are creations of the fuckin' situation That's having our brains racing like Dayton Wearin' some fuckin' Heelys

I know you fuckin' feel me, I want to fuckin' kill me The times I'm so serious, yes, you think I'm silly I'm doin' Big Style Willy couldn't touch 11 Seven, what's religion, nigga? I am legend I roll with skaters and musicians with an intuition I created O.F. 'cause I feel we're more talented Than 40-year-old rappers talkin' about Gucci When they have kids they haven't seen in years, impressin' their peers

With the same problem, the only way to solve them Is to go to Father's Day convention with a gold revolver Life's a salad, I'ma toss it, eat that shit up, Rick Ross it Shit it out, bag it up, sell it, I'm so damn rebellious 'Cause my mother let me do what I want She wasn't careless, protective she is the bear The shit is so bare, my diary isn't hid My father didn't give a fuck, so it's somethin' I inherit

My mom is all I have so it's never meet the parents When Danielle or Milan decide to fucking share This confused boy, I wanna hug, oy I'm bad for you kids to listen to, soy is not the choice I'm bad milk, drink it

Whoa, um, it seems you had a lot to say Uh, who knows, I might feel as I'm evaluatin'

My wrist is all red from the cutter Drippin' cold blood like the winter, the summer Is never that's equivalent to me and Sarah Well, that's not her fuckin' name, but I think this shit is clever My niggas wanna know if I'm fuckin', if I'm kissin' But I'm sittin' here downin' beers simply just wishin' With a tear they try to tell me, but I never listen 'Cause I don't give a shit like sittin' down pissin'

18, still talkin' to imaginaries Hopefully they see the talent I carry just like Jimmy Losers can never win me, you can never offend me My goal in life is a Grammy, hopefully mom'll attend the Ceremony with all my homies, I'm suicidal This my Zombie Circus, I hope the majors heard this Fuck a deal, I just want my father's email So I can tell him how much I fuckin' hate him in detail

Wow, um So, Tyler, if-, if you had the chance to tell him somethin' What would you tell him?

[unhingedwomandiaries]

Had the most fucked up dream last night – proper horror show meets middle-class wankery with a side order of stationery fetishism. Picture this: I'm in bed with my husband when this demon crawls up onto the mattress looking like something that escaped from a budget horror film's special effects department. All teeth and claws and probably poor life choices. The bastard starts screaming about how useless I am, which, cheers brain, always nice to know my subconscious is as much of a cunt as my conscious mind.

My husband, absolute weapon that he is, just calmly tells this hellspawn that according to Facebook (because apparently that's where we're getting our demon-fighting intel these days), it can't possibly exist because it's dead. Brilliant. Maybe next time I'll fight off a serial killer by showing them their poor TripAdvisor reviews. Meanwhile, I'm doing what any self-respecting coward would do – hiding under the duvet like a frightened toddler during a thunderstorm.

Then my husband suggests we get coffee, which is about as likely as me becoming a nursery school teacher or taking up Morris dancing. But sure, why not? Dreams are basically just your brain having a mental breakdown while you're unconscious anyway. Next thing I know, we're in some wanky London café that looks like Harrods hate-fucked a Pinterest board and this was their demented love child.

My husband, channeling his inner tourist, orders a Little Debbie's donut stick because apparently my subconscious couldn't be arsed to dream up proper British snacks. Then he buggers off and leaves me alone to contemplate why any oxygen-breathing human would pay nine quid for an eraser shaped like a tiny watermelon. It's the kind of thing that makes you wonder if the middle classes are just taking the piss out of themselves at this point.

I'm wandering around this hellscape of vintage tat and Wedgwood china like I'm auditioning for a role in some BBC period drama about a shop owner having a breakdown. Then I spot them – typewriters. A whole bloody collection of them under a table, like some kind of mechanical graveyard for dead journalists' dreams. Started testing them out like some deranged piano tuner until I found one with a Microsoft logo, which is about as authentically vintage as my gran's new hip.

Just when I think this dream can't get any more up its own arse, some playwright materializes out of nowhere asking what I think of her handwritten screenplay. Because obviously that's what you do with your magnum opus – get feedback from random women fondling typewriters in overpriced vintage shops. Thank fuck my alarm went off before I had to pretend I had anything intelligent to say about her probably terrible writing.

Maybe next time I'll dream about something proper scary, like running out of tea bags or accidentally making eye contact with someone on the tube. This was just my brain's way of reminding me that I'm basically a pretentious twat masquerading as a functioning adult. Cheers for that, subconscious. You absolute bell end.

[cyarskj1899]

Yo, fuck 2DopeBoyz and fuck Naw Right And any other fuck-nigga-ass blog that can't put an 18 year old nigga Making his own fucking beats, covers, videos and all that shit Fuck you post-Drake-ass cliche-jerking, LA-slauson rapping Fuck-nigga-ass Hypebeast niggas, now back to the album

Well, Tyler, hi, I'm Dr. TC, and um, I'm guessing That your teacher sent you here to talk cause you were misbehaving Um, it's gonna be three sessions, today, tomorrow, Wednesday So, just tell me something about yourself Well look, if you don't talk, I mean these sessions are going to go slower

This is what the devil plays before he goes to sleep Some food for thought some food for death, go ahead and fucking eat My father's dead, well I don't know, we'll never fucking meet I cut my wrist and play piano cause I'm so depressed Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed This meeting just begun, nigga I'm Satan's son

My mother raised me a single parent so it's apparent That I got love for my mother, none of you other fuckers Are much important I'm getting angrier while recording I'm feeling like the Bulls, I've got a Gang of Wolves Odd Future is children that's fucked up on they mental Simple but probably not, fuck them

I'm tall, dark, skinny, my ears are big as fuck Drunk white girls the only way I'll get my dick sucked Suspended from school coolest nigga without effort Easy to spot like black bitches with fake leopard Soak me up in a tampon, but keep the lamp on Cause this album pack enough evil That you can't fit inside a Jansport, go to school with this

I go from AP to JC inside a fucking week Waking up with random girls like "Yo, bitch, how the fuck we meet?" I stay with grandma, she always bitching about her carpet Every time I walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit No to drugs I never spark it, I used to be bullied for honor classes By those that were slow as molasses, take this shit to school

Raquel treat me like my father like a fucking stranger She still don't know I made Sarah to strangle her Not put her in danger and chop her up in the back of a Wrangler All because she said no to homecoming, demons running Inside my head telling me evil thoughts I'm the dream catcher but nothing but nightmares I caught, go to sleep

I wear green hats because I'm fortunately lucky Fuck me the monster said, somehow the monster's dead Inside of me, but the thoughts it tells me are still evil

With this state of mind, big moves, Max Keeble I'm on my grind feeble, my music is evil My fucking samples are too illegal, play this shit in church

I graduated without honors or fucking father He died (I'm so sorry) No bitch, don't even fucking bother I wanted a brother my mother I told her But instead I got a sister, just like me with her mister nada So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation That's having our brains racing like dating, wearing some fucking Heelies

I know you fucking feel me, I want to fucking kill me But times I'm so serious you think I'm silly I'm doing Big Style Willy couldn't touch 11 Seven, what's religion nigga? I am legend I roll with skaters and musicians with an intuition I created O.F. cause I feel we're more talented Than 40 year old rappers talking about Gucci When they have kids they haven't seen in years, impressing their peers With the same problem, the only way to solve them Is to go to Father's Day convention with a gold revolver Life's a salad, I'm a toss it, eat that shit up, Rick Ross it Shit it out, bag it up, sell it, I'm so damn rebellious Cause my mother let me do what I want She wasn't careless, protective she is the bear The shit is so bare, my diary isn't hid My father didn't give a fuck, so it's something I inherit My mom is all I have so it's never meet the parents When Danielle or Malonda decide to fucking share This confused boy, I wanna hug hoy, I'm bad for you kids to listen to Soy is not the choice, I'm bad milk, drink it

Whoa, umm, it seems you had a lot to say Uh, who knows I might feel as I'm evaluating

My wrist is all red from the cutter Dripping cold blood like the winter, the summer Is never that's equivalent to me and Sarah Well that's not her name, but I think this shit is clever My niggas wanna know if I'm fucking, if I'm kissing But I'm sitting here downing beers simply just wishing With a tear they try to tell me but I never listen Cause I don't give a shit like sitting down pissing Eighteen, still talking to imaginaries Hopefully they see the talent I carry just like Jimmy Losers can never win me, you can never offend me My goal in life is a Grammy, hopefully momma will attend the Ceremony with all my homies, I'm suicidal This my Zombie Circus, I hope the majors heard this Fuck a deal, I just want my father's email So I can tell him how much I fucking hate him in detail

Wow, umm, so Tyler if you had the chance to tell him something What would you tell him?

Source: Musixmatch

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There’s a meme going around about how the new fans of Tyler, the creator who makes songs like these

Would be shocked if they had known he used to make songs like this

You know, typical lyrics about r wording, k wording, mass m wording and cannibalizing people , and the use of the F word(as in a word that rhymes with maggots)

Oh, and at one part about k wording people ,burning things ,and put a middle finger up to the educational system or simply known as a school

Wholesome content eh(that part was a sarcastic statement)

[gumnut-logic]

The first blow came unexpected.

Virgil was in piano practise, playing a particularly difficult chord and rift combination when the sudden sensation swamped his mind. His fingers stumbled badly and the entire composition collapsed.

“I think you need more practise, Virgil. But that is to be expected. It is a very difficult piece.”

He didn’t answer her, too busy trying to work out exactly what had happened.

His lack of response was enough to shake his teacher’s confidence. “Are you sure you want to attempt this for your final recital? There would be no shame in choosing another piece.”

It was at that point the second blow made him see stars.

What the-?

John.

It was John.

A sharp indrawn breath. He stared at the piano keys as his heart picked up. “Ms Pickett, I need to leave early. I-I have to collect my brother.” He didn’t look up, biting his lip as another blow landed. Echoes of pain emanated through his heart.

His teacher didn’t answer immediately and her disappointment was obvious. “Very well, Virgil. Practise at home and we will try again tomorrow.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Still not looking at her, he grabbed his books and stumbled from the room, almost literally as another blow landed.

His feet hit the asphalt running.

He knew where John was supposed to be, but his senses led him elsewhere, to the far side of the high school grounds, to a shed on the far side of the sports ground.

A place John had zero reason to be.

He had never run so fast in his seventeen years of life.

As he skidded around the corner of the building he tore up dirt.

Three large boys and a huddled red-headed body on the ground.

A foot rose to kick his prone brother and Virgil saw red.

Two hundred pounds of pissed off Tracy barrelled into the lead perpetrator and took him down with one angry fist. A crony made to grab him from behind. Virgil stepped backwards, catching his foot and elbowed him in the face. There was a satisfying crunch of bone.

It also gave him the draw back for the fist that black-eyed the third asshole.

Fingers that had moments before been playing a sonata, throbbed, sporting both his blood and that of others.

“You fuck!”

The lead perp grabbed him around the waist and they both went down, Virgil underneath and in the dirt. A fist landed in his gut and his lungs lost most of his breath.

“Think you can defend the weiner?” The bastard’s breath was hot on his face. Spittle landed on his cheek.

“I don’t think, asshole.” Virgil grit his teeth. “I know.” His knee came up and lowered the man’s chance at parenthood.

His grunt was somewhat satisfying as Virgil threw him off.

The two cronies were clutching at their faces and backing away while their leader rolled around in the dirt.

Virgil drew himself to his full height and snarled at them. “Stay the hell away from my brother.”

Three eyes widened in alarm, staring at Virgil as if he was the devil incarnate.

“What the fuck are you?!”

The voice came from the asshole on the ground. He was scrambling backwards, wincing at the movement, but staring up at Virgil with the same fear in his eyes as his buddies.

A shadow drifted over the man and Virgil realised it was his.

He didn’t need to look to know what had happened. A stretch and he flapped his fully extended midnight black wings. Dust lifted into the air and tossed their hair around. “I am your worst nightmare. If you even look at me or my brother again, you will find out exactly what that means.” He punctuated that with an arch of his pinions, high above his head.

The assholes turned and ran.

The moment they were gone, Virgil folded his wings and with a shrug, let them go, and hurried over to John.

His little brother looked up at him from the dirt with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Virgil.” John’s voice was raspy. At least one of those blows had hit him in the gut.

“Not your fault. How bad?” Virgil inspected his brother with his eyes, senses reaching for whatever information they could provide.

“I’ve had worse.” He pushed himself up, groaning and leaning back against the wooden building.

“Don’t bullshit me, Johnny.”

“Don’t call me Johnny.”

Virgil placed a finger under John’s chin and lifted his face gently to inspect it. “What was the reason this time?”

“Not sure.”

“What did I say about the bullshit?” At least one blow to the face, John’s cheek was swelling and the skin was split. Virgil grit his teeth.

“What does it matter? There is always an asshole. Always. The reasons vary, but every damn time there is always one.”

Virgil gently undid the buttons of his brother’s shirt. John put up a protest, but the older brother ignored it.

A bruise was spreading over the right side of John’s ribcage. “This is assault, Johnny. I’m going to press charges.” These guys were going down.

John sighed. It was almost a whimper. “You can’t.”

Virgil’s lips thinned. “It is what should be done.”

“You can’t, you know you can’t.”

John’s shirt was gripped by a pair of bloodied fists. Slim, pale hands, fingernails lined with dirt, rested gently on those fists. “You can’t. We can’t. It would draw too much attention. They’ve seen you, Virgil.”

He grit his teeth and, with difficulty, swallowed his anger. John was more important. A cleared throat. “Anything broken?”

“I don’t think so. Can we just go home?”

“Scott’s going to blow a circuit. You should see a doctor.”

“Scott always blows a circuit. A doctor would ask too many questions.”

Virgil closed his eyes a moment.

“This is never happening again.” It came out with no small amount of pain.

“I’m sorry, Virgil.”

“It is not your fault.” A sigh, and he straightened, standing up, before offering to help John up. “Though we are going to have to think up a story to explain this to Gordy.” And yes, the third member of their little triumvirate was bouncing worriedly at the edge of Virgil’s mind. “He’s too old for vague excuses now.”

“Just tell him the truth. His big brother is a wimp.”

Virgil glared at John. “His big brother is a genius. His big brother has more brains than most of this school combined. His big brother is going to make a difference in this world. His big brother is going to make this world a better place.” He held out his hand. “And no minus IQ point asshole is going to stop him.” Not while Virgil was alive. He may not have his brother’s smarts, but he had other assets.

John reached up and took his hand, gripping it tight. A grunt and Virgil had his brother on his feet. An arm around his shoulders made sure he stayed that way.

“Thanks, Virgil.”

“Anytime, bro, anytime.”

-o-o-o-

[revoleotion]

just remembered last piano lesson where I watched my teacher try to convince a kid to play Für Elise next, and the kid was REALLY not having it ("the sheets look weird", "it's boring", "ehhh do I have to??")

And when the kid stood up to leave, my teacher turned to me, so I said to the kid, "it's a great piece to play, I promise!!"

Because I couldn't say "don't disrespect the lawlicht theme song, you little bastard"