#francis i already followers urs...

[canineical]

BTW ! if you have a tag for your original posts/etc, please comment them !! i'm following only those tags so i can actually see and reply to people's posts separately from other fun tumblr stuff

[hellosweetart]

Sorry of someone already asked you this but whose ur fav TNMN character? :)

I remember the first time I saw TNMN, the very first character I like is the overrated milkman, Francis Mosses. His features may be a simple overworked man, but it's his eyes, his nose, his small chin, his hair and his overall tired expression is what made me magnetised to him. Many people has made a lot of fanart and animations about this guy, but then the same people from fandom has introduced to alot of characters.

The second character I like is Izaack Gauss. That funny looking man. He is a handsome, charming, probably persuasive news anchorman from Channel 47. Probably going to gym to lose those flabs, because he is self conscious of his appearance. He even follows the same skin care routine as the model Twin Sisters and makes sure to visit his dentist once a month to check his perfectly aligned teeth. (Very much the opposite of Zog Ommog who doesn't give a crap on what he looks like. 😅)

Then the rest of the bois came in, like Steven, Angus Robertsky, Henry, Afton and Chuckles. OOOHHH boy, I am on clouds. I remember I felt that I wanna draw all of the Bois having a bath. Lol

AND THEN, I suddenly grew to like some female characters too, which are Lois, Nacha and Mia.

Nacha is my most favourite female character, second is Mia. Anastacha is like a baby girl to me who needs to be protected at all costs.

When the Nightmare Mode came in, I didn't think that I would grew to love the characters there too in spite of their scary features. Yog and Ishtar are my most favorite due to their mysterious relationship. Contrast to what other fans think for them, I would love to imagine them being in an open relationship, where Yog is welcome to go on polygamous marriages while Ishtar is okay with flirting with other characters. Yog would like to continue his bloodline and make more children to a romantic partner whom he seems worthy of deep affection. Quachil is not okay with how her parents think of their marriage. While she gets the love and attention she needs from both Yog and Ishtar, she doesn't agree with the open relationship stuff, and so she hangs out with either Zoth, Barbatos, or Teutates for a good company.

[generational-atrophy]

Hii I love your blog ♡ I dont know if you're still taking asks but if yes how would France, Germany and England react to a s/o telling them they had been abused and have ptsd?

hetalia france, germany, and england with a s/o who has ptsd

1.8k words ~ gender neutral headcanons / scenarios

tw: obvs. mentions of trauma but nothing specific

a/n: sorry for being gone so long. my life is like a poor little weasel getting hit by a big hammer rn. hope this lives up to ur expectations anon !!! <3

France

- When you tell him, he's not surprised. He's spent so much time around you that he had always had his suspicions.

- But even so, when you first revealed the details of what you had gone through... Francis couldn't stop himself from crying. Seeing you now, knowing how you had been hurt, just broke his heart.

”No one will ever treat you like that again, ok?“ Francis told you, his voice shaking as he held you tightly against his chest, ”Never. Not as long as you live.“

- Considering how soft he already is around you, his behaviour changes very little after that.

- But, now, whenever he has the inevitable urge to run away, he just can't. He remembers how people have treated you before, and realizes that he can't be selfish like that to you ever again. So, fights with Francis are going to be more like discussions in a therapist's office.

- He'd never raise his voice to you or blame you for anything you didn't intend to do. Having gone through similar trauma himself, he remembers how long it took for him to fully move on from that; so any emotional outbursts on your part are easily forgiven.

- But in general, he's just very forgiving.

- Although he may be a great boyfriend to someone with PTSD, he might also become a little more controlling. Events that he wouldn't have batted an eye at you attending before might become a problem, as he worries about you being able to protect yourself.

- Friends who he used to mildly dislike, he suddenly insists on you cutting off. It's like he thinks of you as some delicate flower. It's all with the best of intentions, but it will be annoying for a while.

- Other than that though, he'd be such a calm, comforting presence to a S/O with trauma.

It had been such a long time since you'd had a nightmare about being back there. You couldn't even remember what the dream was about, all you knew was that you were back there. Which was more than enough to rip you from your slumber, sending you into a panic you hadn't experienced in months.

But as you shot up, sweat dripping down your forehead and heart pumping, Francis was right there beside you. In a flash, he turned on the bedside lamp and shook himself out of his sleep, immediately turning to focus on you.

”Mon chéri, did it happen again?“ He asked softly, adjusting himself so he gave you plenty of space on the bed.

You nodded, and he only sighed, ”That's alright, Y/N, you're gonna get through this.“

Your hands still shook even as he tried to calm you down, your gaze flicking from side to side.

”Breath with me,  amour, breath with me...” He chided, resting a gentle hand against your chest.

“1... Breath in,” He took a deep breath,  making sure you followed along, ”Breath out.“

For the next few minutes, not a word was exchanged between you two other than Francis guiding you through slowing your panicked heart.

”You did so good, Y/N...“  Is all he says as your hands finally stop shaking, ”I'm so proud of you. That wasn't easy, alright? But you did perfectly.“

You can't help but smile at his incessant praises, ”Can we just go to sleep now?“

”Do you want me to hold you while you sleep?” He chuckles, leaning closer to you.

“Maybe...”

Germany

- Ludwig wouldn't be angry, he wouldn't be sad, he wouldn't get upset at all when you tell him about your abuse. At least, not outwardly. Internally he's about to stab someone, but to you, he's completely calm.

- He doesn't push you to explain more, but he does make it very clear that you can tell him everything. He won't judge you, he won't blame you, he won't invalidate anything, he just wants to exactly what happened so he can better help you.

- (He actually went to medical school, as well as getting a degree in psychology, so he knows what he's doing.)

- After that, he puts a lot of attention towards your triggers so he can help you deal with them as well as remove them as much as possible.

- He's coping with his own PTSD too, so any outbursts or instability is completely fine with him. He understands. He'd never take anything you say in the heat of the moment personally.

- Plus, he's like, never tired, so you can always call on him in an emergency. You're his top priority. Whatever you need to feel safe now, he doesn't mind helping with.

- He becomes a lot more protective as well. Whereas you two were a lot more independent from each other before, now he makes an effort to accompany you to anything that might make you upset. He just worries so much...

- If anyone or anything DOES upset you, he's releasing absolute hell onto that person. Normally he'd never make a scene, but with you? He is completely ok with making EVERYONE uncomfortable, just to make a point.

- Your problems and trauma don't bother him at all. If anything, he's glad to have a partner who can understand his struggles as well. You're both just moving past something as best as you can, and that's all that matters.

“It's been three years?” You thought to yourself as you sat still, staring out the window, ”It must've been less than that. No, it was just last month wasn't it?“

That's what you'd been telling yourself since you woke up. That day, it'd been three years since you had left. But it must've been some kind of trick. Some lie you'd been told. No, it couldn't've been.

So you sat, your dry eyes fixed on a swaying bush outside the window. If it had really been three years since then, then you must've been sitting for months. The house was quiet, and the weather was dreary. You hadn't eaten. Ludwig would be frustrated about that. But he wasn't here, so... it was alright.

Or at least, he shouldn't have been.

“Y/N?” Ludwig called out from somewhere else in the house. You didn't move. Even as his footsteps came closer and closer to where you sat, you didn't move.

“Liebling, are you ok?”

No response. He sighs, crouching down next to your chair.

“Is this because it's been three years?“

This time a response, as it seems like your body nodded involuntarily.

”Ah. I understand, my dear.“

He stood up again, setting down his bag from work.

”How long have you been sitting there?“

”I dunno...“ You croaked out, your voice clearly being out of use for quite a while.

”Do you want to keep sitting there?“

No response.

“Would you want to come walk Berlitz and the boys with me?“

A small nod. Ludwig walks over just to open the blinds a little more, just as the sun begins to shine into the room through a gap in the cloudy sky.

“Nice timing, isn't it?”

“Yeah...”

“Take your time getting ready. I'll be waiting downstairs whenever you want to go. I missed you today, Y/N.” And with that, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and walked downstairs.

England

- When you first told him, things didn't go... perfectly. Arthur is not a very comforting man in general, but when it comes to you, his love tends to manifest in, well... not the best ways.

- He became quite angry when you told him. Not because he was angry at you, but angry that someone could ever do that to you.

- But after he realized how that anger would have come across to you, he tried to explain away why he had reacted so harshly.

”Love, I- I didn't mean to... well, I'm not angry at you, ok? I promise. It's not like it was your damn fault! You're the victim! Of some- some twisted cunt-”

“Ok- but y-you're still yelling!”

“I'm not yelling at you- I'm yelling for you!”

- Don't worry, that's probably the last time he'll ever yell around you.

- After the initial panic and hatred, he remembers what's important. You. And protecting you, in every way he can.

- Whenever he's around you, he makes sure to regulate his emotions as much as he can. He'll get all of his anger out at Alfred, just so you never have to worry about him coming home pissed. He wants his home to feel safe for you.

- He tries to be as consistent as possible. If you ever need anything, he won't ask questions, he'll just do it. As much as he wants to be snarky, he'd stop making those kinds of comments to you entirely.

- But if you still know your abuser, he's taking out all of that anger onto them. In his opinion, any person who could traumatize you like that should suffer just like you have.

- Basically, he just becomes a lot more protective. In public, he'd hold your hand constantly, so you always know that you're not alone. In private, he'd lay off any questioning. Whatever you need to do to feel comfortable, he'd push his own curiosity aside.

- Although, he struggles with talking about what you went through directly. He's likely gone through something similar, and an honest conversation about either of your problems freaks him out a little bit.

- He can comfort you, bringing you back from the brink with no problem, but don't expect him to have any meaningful ideas on how to help you cope.

- (His only idea is what he does. Which is to try to ignore it. Which is bad.)

All Arthur had to say was “What's wrong with you?” for the spiral to start. He wasn't even serious, but the smirk plastered on his face seemed to turn sinister within a second. The smell of the room, the direction of the sun, the feeling of your socks, all of it was too familiar. All of it was exactly like that time long ago.

You started to breathe heavier, eyes darting for something to save you from the situation you had just been cast into once again. Something must be different, this can't be happening again.

“Y/N?” Arthur asks, his voice distant and muffled within your panicking mind, “Y/N, look at me.”

When he reached out gently to rest his hand over yours, you completely drew away within an instant. Shaking, cowering in fear against the couch, as far away as you could get from...

“Y/N, is it happening again?” He said, his words barely registering. You nodded, still looking at everything and nothing.

But you watched intently as he got up. He walked over to the thermostat, his footsteps nothing like you remembered from back then. It suddenly became colder than it used to be... and a blanket was draped over your quivering body.

“It's over. They're not here... ok? I promise it's over.”

“You promise? Y-You promise?”

“You're safe. There's nothing here that can hurt you. I promise.“

[oumaheroes]

Hellooo!!! I love love loveee your work. I fell in love with ur FrUK fics (esp stargazing and the Grace of forgetting) before your btt fics. I rlly rlly rlly love your headcannons as well.

So I was wondering what you’d think of a fic where Antonio and Gilbert are secretly following Francis on his date with Arthur (maybe they’re doing some silly shenanigans, or trying to wingman Francis but it goes wrong, or maybe they’re just going to use whatever content they get for blackmail later) hehehehe tysm!! I really love your writing!

Thank you, Anon! ;u; I'm glad you like my work

I'm afraid I couldn't give you the exact silly fic you asked for but I don't see Francis needing a wingman at all, or being possible to blackmail with his exploits. He's too confident in himself and with his choices and his friends know this

Have a quick drabble of a failed pick up attempt, however

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

‘How much.’

‘Tenner.’

‘Tenner?’

Gilbert shrugs, ‘I bet a tenner.’

Antonio shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink, ‘Waste of money.’

‘Ten pounds isn’t a lot.’

‘It is if you’re throwing it away.’

‘Don’t offer to bet on something so stupid then.’

They both watch Francis up at the bar. From their table they can’t see much of him- the pub is crowded and he’s well covered by the huddle of thirsty and already rowdy patrons waiting to be served. But they can see his face well enough, with his easy smile and low lidded eyes turned towards someone on his right. It’s just his profile, but it’s enough. The look is one they’ve seen him wear many times before.

His target, a thin blond man next to him, is frowning at him, dark eyebrows drawn low with the threat of a sneer.

Antonio waggles his drink, consideringly, ‘Maybe.’

Gilbert grins, ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ Antonio reaches out his glass towards Gilbert, ‘Tenner says he fails.’

‘Tenner says he takes him home.’

‘Deal.’

Gilbert clinks his glass against Antonio’s and they both drink. At the bar, the crowd of people part for just a moment to show Francis’ hand resting dangerously low down on the unknown man’s back. Antonio hisses and Gilbert laughs.

‘Might as well buy me a drink now and get it over with.’

‘They’re not home yet.’

‘They will be.’

‘You don-‘

There’s a sudden shout of alarm. Both turn their attention back to the bar in time to watch the crowd step back and reveal Francis clutching his nose, his face now one of thunder. The blond he was talking to shoves him and Francis shoves him back, blood dribbling freely down his top lip. The crowd closes around them again, nearby men grabbing them to haul them apart as others shout and hurriedly step back.

‘Shit.’

Antonio raises an eyebrow and looks at Gilbert in askance, ‘Should we help?’

Gilbert finishes his drink, ‘Nah. We deserve to enjoy it sometimes.’

Antonio laughs and pushes across his leftover chips to Gilbert in offering, jerking his head towards the mess at the bar. Francis is shouting something, his French too quick for Gilbert to translate, ‘That doesn’t mean anything though, does it. He might still get him.’

Gilbert thinks back to all of the times he’s come home to find Francis in bed with a stranger, and all the other times he’s found him with people whom he claims to hate. Francis always likes a challenge and this blond stranger was a challenge indeed. Gilbert gets the feeling too that the man, whilst shouting and gesticulating wildly in response to whatever it was that Francis said, oddly seems to be enjoying himself.

Gilbert sighs and picks at Antonio’s paltry offering.

‘I’m staying at yours tonight.’

‘It’ll cost you a tenner.’

‘Fuck you.’

[proosh]

Hey sending strength for ur hell week!! okay so. Thoughts on pru putting Fran in a collar :3c poncy old man lapdog

WOW THIS IS LATE but I like how this turned out, so >:3c thank you for the request!!

Pairing: FraPru/PruFra Prompt: Collaring Rating: Teen? 16+??? (technically kink but nothing explicit) Length: ~1.2k words Content Warnings: Collaring, implicit d/s dynamics, petspace, very fluffy despite this

Francis had been off for most of the day.

He’d been rather quieter than usual and Gilbert had noticed him even being half hearted in his usual flirtation. Usually he would be expecting Francis to end up sprawled across Gilbert’s desk bemoaning the terrible, awful torture of not knowing how the office printer worked and pleading with big, wet eyes for some simple mercy but… He’d been positively compliant in comparison to the regular shenanigans and Gilbert felt the gnawing edge of worry the entire workday.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel when driving home – he wouldn’t trust Francis behind the wheel on the best of days – and kept a peripheral eye on the way his partner sulked in the passenger seat. An idea was forming in his head.

“Hey, babe.”

Francis glanced at him, confused. He’d been staring out the window mournfully.

Gilbert continued.

“When we get home, listen and follow me. Yeah?” 

That seemed to catch Francis’ attention. He nodded a silent assent. Gilbert noted with quiet satisfaction that he was sitting up straighter in his seat. Good.

They pulled into the driveway and Francis was not doing a good job pretending to be nonchalant as he exited the car and was immediately on Gilbert’s tail with a curious sort of nervous energy. 

“Down, boy,” Gilbert chided lightly as he unlocked the front door, and Francis was… Immediately compliant, backing away a step and looking at the ground. His shoulders were drawn up as if he were expecting a blow.

Gilbert paused for half a second. Francis was plainly miserable, and had been all day. Perhaps it was just a bad mood, but it was so out of character for him that it was sticking in Gilbert’s mind like a burr to clothes. This obedience and submissiveness wasn’t really something that came naturally to Francis and it betrayed a vulnerability and aimlessness that sat unwell with him, but.

He didn’t need to go down the rabbit hole of analysis right now. He shunted the thoughts away for later and gestured to get Francis inside – which was met with a meek merci and a ducking scramble to get into the house. Gilbert sighed and shut the door after himself.

Francis was watching him expectantly, chin tucked down and looking up at him from beneath his lashes.

It was so performatively submissive that it made Gilbert smile and reach out to cup his cheek and the way Francis’ eyes fluttered wasn’t missed.

“Meet me in the living room,” he decided after a moment. “On your knees, in front of the couch. Go, now. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Francis pouted but nodded and padded away, giving Gilbert time to go get what he needed.

Up to the bedroom, he already knew what he was looking for: His array of collars, for both fashion and play purposes. Leather, silk, heavy-duty or light, he had a decent range for the occasions that called for them. 

Gilbert hesitated over his collection before he made his decision. This wasn’t play so much as it was… Therapeutic. It needed to be right.

He headed back down to the living room where Francis was waiting: His obedience was not something Gilbert had necessarily expected and it almost unsettled him a touch. He wasn’t met by grousing or impatient wiggling, but rather his partner compliantly kneeling exactly where he was told, head bowed and hair falling in a shroud past his face. 

Gilbert could feel his eyes on him.

He approached, having tucked the collar into the back of his pants, to round him and perch on the couch cushions, framing Francis with his legs.

“Head up, please,” he lightly instructed, and Francis obliged with only a second of hesitation. 

His mouth was drawn tight in neutral misery and he was avoiding Gilbert’s eyes even as he presented himself, a tension writ across his face that made Gilbert’s belly do a flip of concern.

He brushed his fingers through Francis’ hair and cupped his face, both motions he’d learned were things he liked.

“...Are you okay?” Gilbert asked, simply. Francis blinked up at him before he averted his eyes again and shrugged a shoulder. “It is merely a… Euh. Mood. I suppose.”

Gilbert hummed flatly and reached behind himself.

“Alright. That’s alright. Chin up for me? Like a good boy, now.”

His angle worked: Francis visibly shivered at the praise and raised his chin at the same time he closed his eyes. It let Gilbert bring out the collar – it was a supple leather, a blue so dark it was nearly black and simple besides the silver buckles – and snake it around the pale, unsightly scarring of Francis’ throat, carefully brushing his hair out of the way so it wouldn’t get caught. 

He was careful as he buckled the leather, nice and close against Francis’s skin. Loose enough so that he could wiggle a finger in between them, but no further. Good.

Gilbert sat back but kept a crooked finger beneath his chin: Francis was still baring his throat to him with his eyes closed, but he could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed and felt the pressure around his neck.

Gilbert got to watch the tension slowly seep out of Francis’ shoulders and the tight crinkles at the corners of his eyes loosen at the same time he sighed deeply and leaned into the hand at his chin.

The pressure of the collar was something reassuring, Gilbert knew from experience. To be held and owned and not have to worry was freedom from all else.

Francis’ eyes fluttered open and he was looking up at Gilbert expectantly, mouth half-opened in a question that he didn’t need to vocalise. Gilbert brushed Francis’ hair back and trailed his fingers down to the back of his skull, lightly scraping his nails across his scalp and then massaging the pads of his fingers against the base of the hairline, just above where the collar sat.

“Good boy. Feeling better now?”

Francis nodded simply, and tried to shuffle a bit closer on his knees. There was a dimly hungry look in his eyes that made Gilbert smile.

He sat back on the couch and patted the cushion next to him, which Francis was more than happy to clamber up onto, and then immediately pivot to press himself into Gilbert’s side with a soft, canine whine. It wasn’t like Francis to prefer not to speak, but Gilbert guessed it just wasn’t where his brain was at, which was fine. He was perfectly expressive in other ways.

Gilbert shuffled over to lean against the arm of the couch and Francis was quick to duck under Gilbert’s arm to fit against his flank and press his face into the space at Gilbert’s ribs – at perfect height to have his hair petted while Gilbert grabbed the remote to switch the TV on.

They’d both had a long day and it was only fair that they both got to unwind. It wasn’t common that Francis needed the collar to escape whatever was going on inside his head, but it was only fair to offer him that freedom and reassurance. Gilbert would pry later about what was bothering and upsetting him, but that would come after Francis was able to settle into a more comfortable brainspace.

Right now, all he needed to worry about was the warmth of the body he was cuddling against and the gentle, steady scritches he was receiving and that was okay, because that’s what good dogs did.

[scorchedhearth]

for the ask game: art collector!!!, modigliani and medusa <333

Art collector: What are your favorite paintings?

already answered art collector but here's a few more! the work of aaron duval and his faceless portraits, anguish by august friedrich schenk, tenderness by igor pestov, slaughtered animal by hyman bloom, francis bacon's various triptych, night of a full moon over the harbor by jacobsen sophus

Modigliani: What unsettles you?

i hate whats become of the term liminal on the internet but truly spaces not meant to hold but only pass thru have something uncanny that i love but can unsettle me, especially if it looks derelict. in general places where human life was present but is not anymore, it looks wrong

Medusa: What’s your favorite myth?

oh tough choice, i'd say the ballad of tam lin, the idea of holding ur love thru all forms even the most violent ones because of ur love is so,,, of course the epic of gilgamesh as a whole but especially their fight against humbaba and the immediate reaction following his death, it's so interesting from an anthropological pov

[fandomanimatic-tournament]

Fandom song animatic tournament: Bracket 1 Side A Round 3

The other side - The Greatest Showman Musical

"Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play? 'Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride It'll take you to the other side"

How bad can I be? - The Lorax (Movie)

"How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just following my destiny How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? How bad can I possibly be?"

Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber

"I contend that your drinking eye has never opened I insist somebody will die, and I hate hoping Wishing that the pills let you cry, and I hate coping Someday I will go back outside and see her, okay"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

The other side - The Greatest Showman Musical

Propaganda:

uhhh i never watched the greatest showman but the song goes HARD and its cool as fuck to see how ppl portray these opposing tropes & characters in their animatics

Obnoxious as hell but without it weed be down so many homoerotically charged interactions. The enemies to lovers people would be quaking

it was so popular even i wanted to make an animatic of it 😭 (i never did cause i didn’t even have a stylus at the time but i think that was for the better)

Luz and Hunter. Grian and Mumbo / Etho and Bdubs. Hawks and Dabi. I'm sure I'm forgetting something

oh my god??? the homoerotism of trying to convince ur enemy to join ur side??? whats there not to love?

The only objectively good song in The Greatest Showman deserves some respect, god damn it. Also it's a very catchy way to show a character's betrayal/character changes in general.

The song just overall slaps and also it's great for showing characters having a conflict with one trying to convince the other to join the opposing side

its very character driven, so no wonder its very popular. almost every fandom ive been in has an animatic of this song.

Animatics with the song:

Creepypasta Marble Hornets

Karmaland

BNHA Villain Deku

The Owl House

The Promised Neverland

She-Ra

How bad can I be? - The Lorax (Movie)

Propaganda:

it’s an evil bop

I need everyone to go watch How Bad Can I Be? By Public Spam Account. The best animatic every, plus the song is perfect for any villain character and came from a movie deeply important to tumblr lore

...the only propaganda i have for this is the time two years ago when a zine team gave andrew francis like $50 to sing part of it in the voice of morro ninjago thanks to a joke about onceler morro. someone did animate it if that helps at all

Animatics with the song:

DSMP

Hermitcraft

Darkstalker Animatic

DeadCells The King Animatic

MBIT ENTJ Animatic

Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber

Propaganda:

jack stauber is iconic for his contributions to the youtube animation community already but baby hotline especially it makes me evil <4

Animatics with the song:

Chainsaw Man

Your Boyfriend

Welcome Home

The Mandela Catalogue

The Owl House

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

[jihyoruri]

”🎏 anon IS a new stan trying to pass as an og” I never said I was an og 😭😭I sent my first ask march 6.. i just showed up like it was the cat distribution system

second. aurelia clearly ur fanbase is mostly mentally stable than I am because I saw [“I don’t smoke” -richgirlyn] and promptly had a whole breakdown

for those of you who are not in the trenches..

“I don’t smoke” was a song released on September 29th, 2014, part of Mitski’s third studio album, Bury Me at Makeout Creek. It is (in my opinion) one of the best songs on that album, only beat by Texas Reznikoff and Carry Me Out

(although others may argue that Francis Forever and First Love/Late spring were the most impactful songs on that album, and they are also technically the most popular. fun fact! Francis Forever was in adventure time!)

the album contains many other AMAZING songs, such as : Townie, Jobless Monday, Drunk Walk Home (very popular!) I will, and Last Words of a Shooting Star (one of my personal favorites).

did I just list the entire track list? yes! Go listen to mitski’s albums.. they’re so worth it

i digress.. let’s get into what this spells out for richgirlyn.

everything that follows will be my interpretation..

i don’t smoke is about being in a toxic relationship that you can’t let go of— I see it as letting someone destroy and hurt you because you love them so much, or they’re all you’ve ever known— or maybe you’re just self destructive! The song is about letting someone hurt you, so that they can feel better even if it ruins you— it’s to make the person feel better, no matter how much it destroys you— you are there to make [them] feel better.

tldr: the song is about letting someone hurt you so they can feel better

now.. let me just guess here. let me just put these lyrics out and let them marinate. lemme do a lyric analysis real quick.

“I don’t smoke, except for when I’m missing you/to remember your mouth, how it tasted true/And I don’t smoke, except for after I’ve held you, baby/Being with you makes the flame burn good”

Smoking is clearly a destructive habit— it ruins your lungs and your health. The singer (who I’m gonna assume is richgirlyn, metaphorically) smokes to remember their partner (CHAEWONS STUPID ASS) who hurts them (emotionally or physically. we’re not sure. I believe in the context of the song, it’s emotionally)

the singer misses their partner that hurts desperately, so you can already tell this is a toxic codependent relationship. (maybe onesided codependency)

They smoke after they’ve “had” their partner so they will forever correlate smoking with the partner.. I wonder what this means..

“So if you need to be mean, be mean to me/I can take it and put it inside of me/If your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room/you can lean on my arm as you break my heart”

if this is what’s in store I am ruined. like, what do you MEAN this is what my #1 forever is going through… richgirlyn IS GONNA BREAK DOWN (internally).

anyway, this speaks for itself. The singer is offering themselves up to be a punching bag so their partner feels better, because they don’t want their partner in pain and want them to love them.

“I’m what’s left of when we swam under the moon/Now the rest of my days are just waiting for when/You’ve calmed down and tell me, ‘I was meant for you’/Baby, being with you makes the flame burn good”

based on the verse ‘I’m what’s left of when we swam under the moon’, we can guess that the partner was once kind to the singer

the line ‘Now the rest of my days are just waiting for when you’ve calmed down and tell me I was meant for you’ is.. obviously saying that the singer is waiting for their partner to come back to them, or revert to their previously kind self— this is why the singer most likely lets their partner hurt them, offering themself up to placate them in the hopes that ‘this’ll be the last time, and then they’ll go back to loving me’ or something in that vein.

The chorus repeats, and then the bridge:

“Just don’t leave me alone wondering where you are/I am stronger than you give me credit for”

Based on this line, I interpret it as the partner trying to distance themselves/leave the singer, so they can stop hurting them, and the singer clinging on desperately, saying they can’t take it, and to not leave them— they want the partner to stay so bad even if it kills them.

“If your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room/you can lean on my arm as you break my heart”

i always interpret this line as the final plea of the singer for the partner to stay— do I think the partner stays? No, not at all. This song feels like the progression of a toxic relationship, up until the very end.

it’s safe to say if this is what we have in store for richgirlyn, I will genuinely have to be put on some kind of watch.

like.. does she let Chaewon say hurtful things to her and just take it because she likes her.. like we know she gets defensive and fights back but she was like. vulnerable with chaewon.. does the things the members say (maybe not out loud, but she sees their looks..) does it all pile up before she just cracks? does she let them break her heart again and again because she loves them, and.. deep down does she think it’s true sometimes? IM GONNA ACTUALLY LOSE IT😭😭it’s so over for me. i love richgirlyn I’m so glad everyone’s giving her the attention she deserves I KNEW SHE WAS COMPLEX GUYS SHES LITERALLY SO ME😭😭

I’m gonna do a lyric analysis on how richgirlyn’s song is real men (by mitski) good luck I’m gonna go CRAZY😭

sorry for ranting it’s just that I am the #1 mitski fan ever I love her music so much I have her albums on vinyl and have an analysis for every song she’s created, written, or been featured in that’s not on an album (like this is a life, susie save your love, cop car, ego, and broken necks) ps. when I say the singer I am not specifically referring to mitski but what she is embodying. I don’t know anything about her and this is all my interpretation of the song 🙏

-🎏

WOAHHHHHHH THATS A LONG ONE (but I read it) some things ur saying are so correct about what’s going to go down but not all and it’s the way this isn’t even the chapter where she cracks that just proves that it’s gonna be so bad for her

[trahoalai]

when you get this ask you have to answer with 5 of ur fav songs and then send this ask to 10 of ur most recent followers :)

idk if I have enough followers to share, or if they've already gotten this ask. if anyone hasnt then feel free to partake if u wanna :D ik I would love to hear haha

can gac mua he/sweet summer by phung khanh linh

i hope she loves me back by boy pablo

vacation by connie francis

ong ba gia by tung

sunny day by beabadoobee

[kallulovesu]

Heyooo :) can you do headcannons for a platonic yandere allies ?? Am aroace so that's the kind that floats my boat, also do you ever feel tired of writing ?? Like .. ur so productive, it's awsome but like .. I hope ur doing it cuz u have energy not cuz you have followers waiting 😬 take care Plz ❤❤🥺

For the anon that asked that yandere reader ask, thx u inspired this ask ur idea is rad :3

(A/N:) ahh thank you for the worry anon, but it’s no problem really!💞 I wouldn’t be making as much content if I wasn’t having any fun, since it’ll probably end up feeling more like chore...and I hate doing chores 😭

That one protective friend that makes sure to check up on you every second (but it’s turned up to the extreme and downright becomes unhealthy in some cases)™

It was ironic to him. Out everyone that he had gotten to know over all these years— hell, perhaps even Arthur; you were the only one he felt like understood him the most. Not many seemed to notice what was going on beneath the surface of his facade, which was why he appreciated you being there. You still liked him despite the many flaws that he had, and tried your best being with him even if it became downright tiring. Alfred would be heavily dependent on you because of this, often going to you to cheer him up— or before he was going to make a rash choice.

So it was only natural that he couldn’t see himself being without you.

You were like a best friend to him; Alfred would even go as far as to say that he felt a familial connection between the two of you. So the deep desire to protect you was normal, wasn’t it? Even when he felt himself worrying for your well-being at even the slightest approach of a stranger, it was just his instinct telling him that there was something wrong. It wasn’t anything unhealthy. Thus, would usually drag you away from anyone that he found to be suspicious; even those he was already familiar with. This would probably result in a lot of arguments, with him trying to say what was ‘best for you’ and with you denying that you needed this much...protection. You swore that it almost felt like he was just isolating you from the others, to have you purely depend on him for whatever reason you couldn’t make up.

Alfred can’t handle being apart from you— nonetheless the idea of you being angry with him, or even hating him . It truly didn’t matter if the reason was rather ridiculous or not, the idea of you hating him just...made his stomach churn uncomfortably. You were his best buddy, and basically one of the only ones he could trust with his inner worries; and the risk of it all being taken away from him because of a silly, childish mistake was all it took to send the poor boy into a state of panic. Please don’t leave him, he’d do anything to keep you there with him. Begging, gifting— you name it.

Arthur didn’t completely seem to realize his feelings at first, confusing it with romantic attraction for a little while— before quickly seeming to realize that it was all purely platonic. He did feel a bit protective of you, maybe even possessive...but it had nothing to do with romance, nor lust. It was just him wanting to have someone beside him, someone that he could call a friend. And someone that would never leave his side.

It won’t be hard to notice how...bad his communication skills were; with him often saying things that he didn’t really mean and slightly setting you off. Arthur is stubborn, so it may take some time (and slight teasing at how much he hesitated) for him to actually apologize. You’ll probably get used to it after a while, since he’s one big tsundere.

Saying this out loud was an absolute no-no for this man— but you being around Arthur was often enough to make him the slightest bit happier. It felt a bit lonely at times, especially with less and less people being around him these past few years. So having you as a friend almost felt like a breath of fresh air.

He’s very critical of those you choose to be around with, often analyzing even the smallest of things so he can determine if they’re actually worth being around you. Which more often than not ends up... not being the case. Arthur will tell you to stay away from them; saying that they were suspicious, and probably had something bad in mind. He’ll resort to isolating you if you were to disobey him, trying to take as much of your attention— and perhaps even kidnapping you if the extreme were to happen. You were his one and only best friend, and he had to make sure you were safe. Always.

Totally the big brother type...well, he usually proclaims himself as being one, so it isn’t that much of a surprise.

Francis will make sure to absolutely pamper you with his attention; hanging out with you, sending letters whenever he was too busy...and simply sending gifts from France. He simply couldn’t let you go off feeling unloved!

He adores talking about you; usually going off on a mindless ramble whenever someone even mentions your name, like a proud father showing off his child. Others will usually compare him to one due to how much he adores talking about you— or simply the way that he treats you. Which would quickly be disregarded with a: “oh, I’m no father! They’re just such a nice little friend to have around, who wouldn’t want to praise such a delicate person?”

On a second note....he actually did feel like a father figure to you. Huh.

Francis will often suggest helping you out with your love life, perhaps even gushing over cute guys together that you found on a random dating app— before quickly realizing that he didn’t really want this. Those silly moments were fun and all, but having you talk with someone that could just be out to use you made him a bit angry...and paranoid, mainly the latter. He will make sure that anyone that even so much dares to get close you first gets his approval first. The feeling of a broken heart was all too familiar to him, and he didn’t want you to experience such a thing.

This may result in him checking up on you...an awful lot, making sure that those around you were only the best of the best and wouldn’t end up being bad influence to you. Yes, he truly was like a father.

A sibling-like person in his life that he didn’t feel insecure against and acknowledged him as his own person? Fuck yes!!

Jokes aside— Matthew really does care deeply for you. Perhaps it was due to the Canadian barely having those that he could...truly call close friends, so having you around almost felt like a blessing. Unlike Francis, he won’t really show you off or talk about you much, especially around his brother. The American had already stolen enough from him, so why would he let something like that happen again?

He’s extremely wary of anyone that even so much tries to make a move on you. It’s just...you were someone that he held extremely dear; and having you potentially getting hurt due to some lowlife that managed to slip into your life would absolutely break his heart. Matthew didn’t want to fail in protecting you, he would never forgive himself if something like that were to happen.

Losing you is something that he wishes to avoid completely. He’ll even go as far as kidnapping you if it came down to it, Matthew just couldn’t see himself living happily without you by his side.

Yao likes cute things...and you’re a cute friend, so it’s a perfect match!

But seriously, he thinks that you’re absolutely adorable. Whether it be because of your personality— or your appearance, it really doesn’t end up mattering in the end. You’re his cute little friend, and that’s all that matters!

He’ll often treat you with more, yet gentler care than most of the others around him. He knew that you were well capable of taking care of yourself; but he just couldn’t help but see you as something fragile, something that he had to protect. So you can already imagine how frustrated he gets when someone treats you with even the slightest bit of disrespect— Yao will often confront them immediately, while you awkwardly have to sit back and watch it all. Almost feeling pity for the person that had to endure your friend’s seemingly never-ending complaints.

Oh, he probably doesn’t quite realize how he comes off as a father at times; seeing how much he’ll scold you for the smallest mistakes (while making sure to correct you of course!) and how he usually made decisions for you, making it hard to refuse his gestures due to his pushy nature. But it’ll probably become a normal thing for the two of you as time progresses, since it’s just...how Yao was, you assumed.

His controlling behavior will also reflect on how he treats your personal life. Yao is very selective of who he lets you be around with, so he’ll often look at your acquaintances and friends with a very critical eye, immediately expressing his distaste in them if they were even to do the smallest thing wrong. “Such a brute isn’t worth being around, (y/n).” Yao will warn you to stay away from them, but won’t bring it up any further if you decide to do what he says. If you don’t then...well, he had special friends to help him out with his dirtier work.

Yao might consider kidnapping you if this behavior keeps on repeating, but won’t feel compelled to actually do it unless something bad were to happen.

Ivan will always try his best to be there for you! While it most likely won’t quite work with him being a rather busy person; a country, nonetheless, but he’ll do his upmost best. It was extremely hard for Ivan to make friends that...weren’t scared of him or secretly disliked him, so having you was such a relief!

Being his only friend, he’ll make sure to be absolutely devoted to you— perhaps in a way that wasn’t too healthy in a friendship, and would often be looked down upon by those looking at your relationship from an outsider’s perspective. But could one truly blame him? Ever since he was born it felt like everyone around him were either toying with him, or were utterly terrified of the boy expect for his two sisters. It was lonely...so it isn’t hard to imagine how overjoyed he was once having you in his life; someone that didn’t display the usual fright whenever he approached them, nor did you look like you were out to hurt him.

Ivan appreciated you a lot.

It wasn’t hard to imagine that you’d most likely become the target of a few other countries, your connection with Ivan wasn’t extremely hidden from the outside world... (from how much he’d senselessly mutter things about you when daydreaming, and the many times he stuck by your side) and so, others would take it to their advantage. Those like Alfred will probably try convince you to leave Ivan’s side, spewing terrifying stories of the man to try and stir up something inside of you so you could leave him. It was mainly for your own safety, yes. But it was also to make the Russian weaker. It was obvious that he was depending on you heavily, and losing you would...god forbid if that would ever happen. Ivan would completely lose himself, perhaps even snapping completely.

So don’t hesitate to tell Ivan if someone was bothering you! Ivan will make sure to get rid of the little parasite from your life in an instant, giving them a short warning whenever the two come across each other...and making sure that he got his point across! It’s better to ignore their sudden disappearance after that day, since someone like them wasn’t worth lingering in your mind.

[ssuckitlosers]

Also- have any headcanons ur thinking about? i have a couple, so, here:

I think Scotland doesnt (usually) care about other peoples opinions of him. He isnt concerned with what his reputation is- if he doesnt want to do something, trying to convince him with "what will everyone else think?" wont work. He doesnt particularly care if other people think hes an asshole for it. England though, probably cares the most about "reputation" out of all of them, and this means hes often roped into things he doesnt want to particularly do because it needs to be done, or becuase it will reflect on him badly if it isnt. I think wales often will do things he doesnt want to out of politeness, but not out of a concern for what other people think of him.

I dont have any headcanons for north about this, unfortunately

AHH, I definitely did have at least one uk brothers headcanon that I know I didn’t post cause I started writing it and then only wrote like a filler line and I now have no clue what that idea was 💀

Oh 100% to your hcs though! I feel like Hws Scotland follows his gut a lot, like he’s usually nice to people but if he gets a bad vibe from someone he’s not gonna be friendly nor will he care if they think he’s being a dick. He’s also not about to try change someone’s mind about him, you think he’s a bad guy? Cool, that’s up to you.

He’s definitely the most stubborn out the the UK brothers, I can’t fully articulate why rn but it’s just the vibe. Oh and I think I’ve said it before but he definitely starts the most shit in that household, he’ll play the bagpipes at stupid o’clock because he’s bored and ruin the fryer by deep frying a mars bar. Man just loves getting a rise out of people and will act stupid to achieve that goal if necessary. Englands 100% too easy to wind up by just denying facts and Alistair will know he’s talking shit. Sometimes he plays dumb to let someone explain something they enjoy though- I imagine he asks France questions about food or art and even if Francis already explained it last week, the man will go into the whole explanation again.

Ah I probably could go on and also ramble about the other brothers but I literally would write an essay that’s not particularly well thought out lol- I do think north is an interesting character though, like on one hand I think some of my old headcanons standup pretty well regarding the canon, but then on the other I feel like norths a bit different than I expected. I may need to reassess him, but damn I’m glad to have a canon wales, I never knew what to say for him before really

[transsextual]

hello ur rottgen pieta poem came up on my dash and i was really intrigued by it so i looked up the sculpture and i am OBSESSED it's my current favourite piece of art so THANK YOU for introducing me to that and for writing such a beautiful poem <333

hello! it was so lovely to wake up to this in my inbox - i Also deeply adore the rottgen pieta! you may already know this but pietas are an entire subset of a broader category of art called lamentations, which are works in which christ is mourned by his followers - pietas are lamentations that exclusively depict christ being mourned by mary. michelangelo's first sculpture was a pieta, actually, and it's a totally breathaking piece of high renaissance artwork! i still prefer the rottgen, though. it's so much more emotive. grotesque, even, like the way the flesh and blood around christ's wounds seems to explode out of him, and how distorted the proportions are, and how mary doesn't look as if she expected her son to be murdered, but rather anguished and confused... so many fucking emotions in that carving. and it is a carving, even, it's a wood sculpture from the 1300s and it's survived beautifully.

art historians believe that the rottgen pieta is thematically separate from a lot of the art of its time because rather than depicting jesus and mary as these divine, detatched, all-knowing figures, it illustrates their suffering and pain. and that through doing so, the carving expresses to its audience that god understands what it is to suffer, and what it is to feel pain and sorrow and to be human. the notion that god understands the human experience was almost an unprecedented sentiment in medieval artwork (but not an altogether uncommon belief, i don't think, since that was kind of St. Francis of Assisi's whole thing) and started slowly appearing throughout the renaissance. but i'd like to think that the rottgen pieta kickstarted the idea. gothic art my beloved, honestly <3

i'm incredibly glad you like my poem, and thanks so much for the message :) i hope your day goes better than you expect it to

[buttmano]

this is something I think about everyday bc it is very soft, but summer mornings with france? ur doing gods work

seriously been thinking bout this since it was sent in💕

Rating: FLUFFFF

Francis is a big morning person so chances are he wakes up before you

He'll start playing some soft music in the living room so as not to wake you abruptly

He'll go about his morning routine quietly, shuffling around to freshen up and brew some tea or coffee

Once you wake up he'd great you brightly with a cup

Of course he's dressed in his royal blue silk robe and he loves it when you put on your matching robe in the color you like most

He'll turn up the music a bit now and let you get ready for the day

After you're done you can find him lounging outside on his veranda overlooking the city

The weather already pleasantly warm with a nice breeze and the sun slowly creeping higher from the horizon

Some days he'll be in a chair or others he'll sit on the outdoor couch

When he's on the couch he's silently inviting you to sit next to him so you two can be closer

Most of the time you just sit in silence and enjoy each other's company

In between the silence he'll ask you how you slept, what your plans were for the day, remark about the birds and the people walking by, etc.

Of course he peppers compliments and praise for you in there too

After an hour or two or whenever you get hungry he'll head back in and begin cooking, whether you follow after him is your choice

But if you do you'll find that the music is turned up a bit louder and Francis is much more lively while he's cooking

If you join in he'll be more vocal, talking more as he cooks and probably dancing

Pls feel free to join in his shitty dancing

Francis just really loves you and loves your company like wow he's whipped but he's happy about it

[hello-robin-goodfellow]

Top Five Favorite Books

TAGGED BY: @hmmm-what-am-i-doing​

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

The other famous novel by Victor Hugo. Written in 1831, Notre-Dame de Paris, known in English as The Hunchback of Notre Dame, is a rich, meandering tale that addresses messy relationships, fate, and the future of architecture in 1482. The English title is a misnomer, since the protagonist of the story is Esmeralda, the original title being a metaphor on the cathedral who serves as the central location of the novel, and Esmeralda herself (though one could argue the cathedral is itself a character). Victor Hugo strongly protested against the English title, as it turns the focus from the cathedral onto the characters.

The hunchback is Quasimodo, the deaf, one-eyed, hunchbacked, monstrously ugly bell-ringer of Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris. Abandoned outside the church at the age of four, he was taken in out of kindness by the Archdeacon of Josas, Claude Frollo, who raised him in the church and introduced him to the bells. When the hitherto chaste Frollo sees the  romani girl Esmeralda dancing in the street one day, he finds himself stricken with lust, and doesn't know how to deal with it. So, sure as Love Makes You Evil, he grabs Quasimodo (for muscle) and tries to kidnap her. The attempt is foiled by Phoebus, Captain of the Archers. It is spectacularly not foiled by lovable slacker-poet Pierre Gringoire, who gets knocked out trying to save the girl.Later that night, however, Esmeralda temporarily marries the poet, to save his life from her friends at the Court of Miracles. That doesn't mean she's going to let her new "husband" touch her, mind you, or that she's going to give up her dreams of marrying Phoebus. Phoebus likes the look of her, himself, and although he's already engaged to his teenage cousin Fleur-de-Lys, he's not opposed to a bit on the side. Esmeralda's small kindness to Quasimodo when he is in the stocks for the kidnapping attempt (Frollo having let him take the fall) makes her an angel in Quasimodo's mind, and he is henceforth devoted to her. This eventually, and painfully, puts him in conflict with Frollo, whose combination of lust and loathing for Esmeralda makes him increasingly unstable. Amidst the drama and tragedy resulting from everybody's fatal obsessions, Hugo includes leisurely chapters on the architecture of Paris and the expected impact of the newly-developed printing press.

Frankenstein

Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, usually abbreviated to Frankstein is a novel by Mary Shelley. It was originally published in 1818. It had a 1823 reprint without Shelley's involvement and a third edition in 1831, this time with significant edits from the author. Frankenstein is considered an Ur-Example of Science Fiction and inarguably has vast historical significance.

The novel tells of Dr. Victor Frankenstein who unlocks the secrets to Creating Life. He uses this knowledge to create an artificial man, larger and stronger than most mortals, by means which he chooses not to describe. While he is initially triumphant with his success, a few moments of observing the flailing and moaning patchwork being leaves Victor disgusted by and fearful of his creation. Realizing the ramifications of his success, he is horrified. He abandons the Creature and flees to his family's estate. In his absence, the Creature is forced to come to grips with suddenly finding itself alive and alone without explanation or guidance. He learns about humanity by watching a family cottage from afar, but is again driven off when he attempts to offer his friendship- one of many bad run-ins with humanity which leave the monster bitter and cynical. Eventually, the Creature comes to resent his creator, whom he views as his father, for abandoning the Creature to a life of torment, and decides to come home to seek vengeance against Frankenstein...

The subtitle, The Modern Prometheus, compares Victor Frankenstein to the Greek titan Prometheus, who brought the secret of fire from Mount Olympus to mortal men, reflecting on Frankenstein's spiritual would-be theft of the secret to creating life — but like Prometheus, Frankenstein also came to regret his transgression.note Many would say that Frankenstein was the ultimate warning of Science Is Bad, though similar stories were common throughout the industrial revolution and it is not even clear whether the act of creating the Monster was bad in itself, if the world wasn't ready for it, or Frankenstein was just a horrible and abusive parent.

One Hundred Years of Solitude

One Hundred Years of Solitude is a 1967 novel that won Gabriel García Márquez the Nobel Prize for Literature. It's become a staple of Spanish-speaking high school curricula everywhere.  Arguably one of the most important pieces of literature written in the 20th century, or to put in context, almost as important as Don Quixote to Spanish speaking literature. Famous, among other things, for using every conceivable trope one could ever hope to fit in 28.8 oz of paper.

The book follows the story of the Buendía family and the town they create, Macondo, from its foundation to its end. Of course, it is told in a non-linear fashion with every generation having the same few names, as well as the same basic attributes (except for a pair of twins whose names are thought to have been accidentally switched at some point). Alongside the story of the Buendía family, there are an abundance of vignettes recounting both the everyday and the supernatural occurrences that shape the lives of the inhabitants of Macondo. The themes range widely, incorporating legendary figures (such as the Wandering Jew), historical events (Sir Francis Drake’s bombing of Rioacha, the Massacre of the Banana growers), and short stories about the love of two minor characters who never get to interfere with the main action. Believe it or not the story takes place in a time span of a hundred years.

Netflix has announced that it will be adapting the story into a television series.

The Arabian Nights

The Arabian Nights, correctly known as The Tales of One Thousand and One Nights (Farsi Hezār-o yek šab, Arabic Kitāb 'alf layla wa-layla), is a massive collection of Fairy Tales drawn from sources as far apart as the Middle East, North Africa, India, and, to an extent, even China and Greece. It has for centuries shaped the European view of the [relative to Europe] "(Near) East" or "Orient", even though only some of the stories are widely known. In fact, early Arabic-language versions only contain about 300 nights. The 701 others were added later; most of the additions were by Arab writers, but European translators added some other folktales they'd collected in their editions. Some of these additions were based on other Arabian sources, but others, including Aladdin and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, were stolen by Antoine Galland (the French translator) from Syrian Maronite writer Hanna Diyab, who recounted those tales to Galland and based them on various aspects of his own life. Diyab's autobiography was found in 1993 and greatly expanded our understanding of these stories.

The Framing  Device for the story cycle is the tale of King Shahryar and Shahrazad. The King's first wife had cheated on him, so he had her executed. Then, feeling that no woman could be trusted, he hit upon a plan only a powerful and insane tyrant could pull off: He'd marry a woman, spend the night with her, and then, in the morning, send her off to the royal Wazir (chancellor) to be executed. No woman would ever betray him again! After a great many wives were executed in this manner (Richard Burton's translation says the King did this for three years, which would be about 1,100 wives), the Wazir was running out of marriage prospects to present to the King. Then the Wazir's daughter, Shahrazad, came to him with a plan. Since her plan involved marrying the King, the Wazir objected in the strongest manner possible, but nothing would deter the girl, and finally he brought her to the King.

Come the wedding night, once he started putting the moves on her, she feigned becoming upset, and pleaded to see her younger sister one last time. The King acquiesced, and allowed Shahrazad's sister Dunyazad to stay in the room with them until dawn. Even while they consummated the marriage. Awkward. After that and the three of them went to sleep, the sisters woke up at midnight. Just as planned, Dunyazad asked Shahrazad to tell her a story, but by the morning she was not finished, and ended the story on a Cliffhanger. The awoken King was so hooked on the story that he postponed the execution for one night, in order to hear the rest. But after Scheherazade ended that story, it was still the middle of the night, and she started up another story, again ending on a cliffhanger in the morning. The nightly routine continued. Some of the stories were simple, some complex and multi-layered; sometimes a character in one story would begin to tell a second story, and sometimes the story was never actually ended because Scheherazade had gone on two or three layers and never returned to wrap up. Or sometimes she claimed she didn't know the ending, but had another tale that was even more intriguing than the unfinished one. But all of the stories were so compelling that the King could never bear to order her execution without hearing the ending. So Shahrazad kept up the stories for three years — in the meantime bearing Shahryar three sons — and finally, after 1,001 nights, she said that she had told all of her tales and was ready to die. But the King had fallen in love with her, and had been calmed by her entrancing stories. He declared that no woman in the kingdom was as wise as Shahrazad, and he made her his queen for keeps this time, and they lived Happily Ever After.

Unlike many legends which deal primarily with the deeds of the nobility (who after all were the ones who could afford to have a bard as a permanent resident at their palaces), Arabian Nights has the fascinating twist that it covers people from myriads of occupations in a highly-complex society.

The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana

A novel by Umberto Eco.

Yambo Bodoni has a problem. After suffering a stroke, he lost his episodic memory. Now he can't remember his name, family, or any aspects of his life. Thanks to a lifetime of work as an antiquarian book dealer in Milan, however, he can recall anything he's ever read. In order to rediscover his lost past, Yambo heads to his childhood hometown of Solara. As he pores through old newspapers, comics, and magazines, Yambo - and the reader - get glimpses into the often tragic and bittersweet reality of a boy coming of age in Italy during World War II.

[hrharthurkirkland]

For the kiss meme: could you make the prompt 21 with FrUKGerIta? (Poly ships need more love)

Here’s ur poly ship wonders! I love this ship a hell of a lot tbh and yet this is my first time writing it. Poly ships are p hard, especially ones that are 4 people lmao. hope you like it! (will also be posting this on ao3 with the others!) 

Morning sun shone through the closed blinds of Arthur’s room, illuminating just off of his face, leaving him pleasantly warm as he continued to doze through the morning. That was, until someone else bounced onto the bed, hands shaking his shoulders.

“Wake up! Wake up!” Feli’s excited voice sounded, what someone could be so excited for in the morning was a complete mystery.

Arthur groaned in reply, pulling the covers further over himself, “Noo…”

“C’mon! You can’t lay in bed all day lazy pants.”

“Watch me.” He spoke gruffly, eager to get back to that soft dreamlike state on the edge of sleep. A tut came from the Italian before he wormed his way under the covers, arms wrapping around the other’s waist. His head buried into his neck in a firm, yet comfortable hug.

This was preferable, and Arthur felt himself smile a little as he drifted back into the fluff of his pillows. Maybe the only thing better than that dreamy nap was someone to share it with, and Feli was always so warm against him, it was perfect.

That was, until he heard the intake of breath from the Italian. His eyes snapped open just in time for the raspberry to be blown onto his neck. With a cry, he squirmed to try get out of the now vice like grip he was in, but managed only to turn and face that big grin.

“Fine.” He huffed, “I’m awake. What do you want?”

Feli’s amber eyes lit up – if any more than they always were was possible – and he pressed his forehead against the man in his arms, “Don’t be so grumpy.” He teased, nuzzling their noses together, “I was just thinking about some things.”“What things?” Whatever it was, Arthur was already back against the pillows, ready to fall back asleep, maybe trap the Italian in with him if he could.

Those thoughts of just cuddling up peacefully were once again pushed aside when a pair of lips pushed against his own. He didn’t fight it, despite his original confusion, Feli was known for his grand romantic gestures, and today certainly wasn’t any different. The Englishman would allow it, give in to it, and of course kiss back. It was slow, lazy, and long, and when it broke away, Arthur had been so accepting of it, that he tried to follow to continue it.

His eyes opened, met with that gentle amber once again.

“I think your teeth are cute.”

By impulse, Arthur covered his mouth, “What?”

“Your teeth.” Feli giggled, moving to pull back the hand, “You always cover them when you smile… But I like them.”

“They’re crooked…” “They have personality.”

Lips met again, this time the Englishman was more reluctant, thoughts now on one of the many things that bothered him about himself. As pleasant as he might find the distinctly lemony taste Feli had, he couldn’t help but feel self conscious.

“Hm.. I’m sorry.” The Italian muttered, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”“I’m not upset.” Arthur looked up with a sigh, running his hands through that endlessly soft hair,

“I just want you to smile more. Genuinely. When you care so much about how you look, I don’t get to see you how you are naturally, and relaxed. That’s all I want, because I love that. All of you…”

“Is that what you’re up to?”

Feli moved his eyes, looking the Englishman in the face for a moment, searching for meaning, before cracking back into his smile, burying his face into his neck. “If all of you loved yourselves as much as I love you, well…”“We would be a bunch of narcissists.” Arthur chuckled, keeping his arms wrapped tight around him, pressing a kiss into his hair, “Alright then… I’ll smile more for you.”

—

Francis has been on the sofa for most of the morning. Truthfully he wasn’t usually so lazy, but something about this Sunday morning felt like lounging on the sofa with a book in hand felt right – felt comfortable. And yet, so incomprehensibly boring.

Luckily for him, the state of his boredom skipped down the stairs just in time.

“What are you up to, Feli?” He spoke as if he’d just now decided to put his book down, reaching for his tea. He tried to hide the slight sputter as he went to drink it, finding it now had gone cold. He wasn’t amazingly into tea in the first place, but it being cold was – as Arthur would put it – a crime against humanity.

“Looking for you!” The Italian hopped over jumping onto the sofa just in time for the tea to be put down and not spilled over the pair of them. He squirmed up until his was half way up Francis’ body, arms tight around his waist.

Francis broke into a soft smile upon seeing him, laying on his front looking up with those beautiful eyes. He reached down to play with his hair, brushing it out of his face, “Why on earth would you be looking for me? I’m not doing anything interesting.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Feli shook his head, hair flopping back into his face, “I wanted to see you is all.”

“Well that’s very sweet of you.” He hummed.

Feli’s eyes closed, burying his head into the other man’s soft shirt, and he stayed there for a little while, like a contented cat, having his head pet and hair played with, comfortable and warm.

Another figure came down the stairs, this time Arthur, stepping his lazy way down as he rubbed his eyes. He passed the two, receiving not much but an open eye watching him and a slight turn of another head. He reached down, running a hand through Francis’ hair as he passed, grabing the bug of cold tea. “Do you want another?”

“If you would.” Francis replied, leaning back with the hand in his hair, eyes closed to enjoy it best. There was only one thing that would make this moment better.

“Have you seen Ludwig at all?” He mused, eyes opening just a bit, “Hm? Basement I think.” Arthur replied, barely paying attention, “Doing all that… work out stuff. Might join him.” Absentmindedly, he took a sip of the tea in his hand as he spoke, and promptly spat it back into the cup,

“Careful, he might rope you into something.”“Goodie.”

“Can I have some tea too, Artie?” Feli looked up, his legs kicking up behind him, eyes sparkling.

The Englishman gave a smile, finishing his rifle through Francis’ hair and stepped out, “I’ll make some for everyone.”

Once he had left, Feli went back to laying his head down, but now he stayed with his eyes up, looking at the Frenchman with a little smile on his face. A face that showed the promise of mischief. And indeed, when least expected he pushed up that shirt he had been resting against, and started kissing his stomach.

Francis flushed over immediately, goose bumps up his arms, “Feli!” he spoke, hushed and firm, before switching it to an embarrassed chuckle, “Don’t you think that’s a little… inappropriate right now? We could go upstairs or…” “No no.” Feli shook his head, resting it back, admiring how soft that little cushion of flesh was, “I just wanted to let you know I like your belly.”

“M-my..? oh that.” The Frenchman put a hand on his cheek, feeling the heat still rising from it, “I have been getting a little lazier lately.”“You haven’t. Everyone has that. It’s to protect your organs.”

“Well it’s not doing the best job with you around, hm?” Francis teased, reaching down again to play with the Italian’s hair, “It’s not usually this soft.”“It’s because you’ve eaten.”

“I did have a larger breakfast.”

“You had breakfast.” Feli huffed, making his way up so he was resting on the Frenchman’s chest, “You and Arthur are the worst for it. And I thought you loved food, like me!”

Francis had to laugh, pulling him closer up to him, “I suppose you’re right. You always set me right, you know that?”

“As long as you’re happy.” Feli looked up, sneaking a little peck to that stubbly jaw, “That’s all I need.”

“Thank you… You know who I think needs your upbeat attitude right now?” He spoke, tapping the Italian’s nose lightly.

—

Earphones in, music blaring, sweat dripping down his back. Hours Ludwig would spend in this basement, here is where he could think, where he could build. And build he did, testing his strength, keeping himself in shape, it was just nice to be alone like this sometimes and forget for a while that the outside world existed.

He was lifting some small weights when the one thing that could sound over the heavy metal music in his ears came along, and he looked up, eyes wide.

“Catch me!” Feli shouted as he ran towards him.

Panic over took him. This was his work down, but what else was he to do? Let the Italian jump and fall. No, instead he threw the weights down as close to the ground as he could and held out his arms just in time for Feliciano to leap into them, knocking one of the earbuds from the German’s ears.

“Feli.” He breathed out, still out of breath from the work out – and probably the panic of having to catch someone running towards him at top speed, “More warning next time. Please.”“I would have called down the stairs but usually you have the music out loud. You can’t hear me if it’s in your ears!”Ludwig huffed, bouncing the smaller man in his arms. He was heavier than the weights, but still an easy feat. If he was here, though, that meant the work out was over, so he slowly sat back on a bench with a sigh, setting Feli onto his lap. 

“You’ll hurt your ears with music like that.” The Italian pouted, pulling the second earphone out, “Why do you listen to it?”“I like it.”“It’s so angry.”“It helps.”

Feli sat up a little more, reaching up to push the hair out of the German’s face, pressing some kisses into his forehead.

“You’re sweaty.”“Correct.” He couldn’t help but smile as the kisses kept coming, making their way into his hair, “What are you doing?”“Trying to kiss your thoughts.”“Why?”“Because that’s where you’re most self conscious.”

Something in his chest squeezed at his heart. Ludwig felt the need to put a hand to his chest, heat rising in his face, “That is very kind of you…” He smiled, moving so he was eye level and the kisses ceased, “What about you?”

“What about me?” Feli blinked, confusion painting his face.

The stairs creaked as the other two stepped down, each with two mugs in their hands, careful not to spill any as they made their way over. Feli looked at them before turning back to the German he was sitting on, “I’m not self conscious about anything.”

“Everyone’s got something.” Arthur spoke as he set one of the mugs down on the bench, sitting down next to it, “He’s got a point. You do all of these things for us, make us feel good, what about you, Feli?”

“No. don’t think so.”

“Not true, not at all.” Francis sat on the other side, “Don’t make us kiss every inch of you until we find something.”

“Whaat? It’s no fun if you’re just trying to find something I don’t like!”

“Would you prefer somewhere you do like?”“When he’s not on my lap you can continue being horny, Francis.” Ludwig huffed, adjusting the Italian where he was held and taking his hand, “You don’t have to tell us anything.” He muttered, pressing the hand against his lips, “If you’re happy, we’re happy.”

Feliciano smiled, a little giggle coming up from his chest as he fell back onto the sweaty German’s shoulder, “Alright… Where should I start?”

[pamphletstoinspire]

The Hell of Faith: ‘Dreadful Possibility’ and ‘Terrible Reality’ at Once

There is a sense of mounting intensity in the Church. Within the last ten days alone, the following has happened:

Pope Francis and Ahmad Al-Tayyeb, the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar Mosque, signed a “Document on Human Fraternity,” which says that “the diversity of religions” is “willed by God in His wisdom.”

Subsequently, many have reacted, directly or indirectly, to the serious theological questions this document raises. Included among those writing on the subject are Phil Lawler (“Not all religions are part of God’s plan”) and Bishop Athanasius Schneider (“The Gift of Filial Adoption”).

Four days after the joint statement of the Vicar of Christ and the Grand Imam, the former Prefect of the CDF, Gerhard Ludwig Cardinal Müller, published a “Manifesto of Faith” in seven different languages. This very powerful statement has been praised by Bishops (including the aforementioned Bishop Schneider), and by other clergy and laity. But it has also ruffled the feathers of another German Cardinal, the progressivist Walter Cardinal Kasper, whose inter-religious sensibilities appear to have been offended by his more doctrinaire countryman and brother cardinal. In a similitude bound to cause confusion among ecumenists, Cardinal Kasper compared Cardinal Müller to Martin Luther. Moreover, an unsurprising collection of progressivists has gathered to condemn the “Manifesto,” including the Rev. James Martin, who took to Twitter over it.

And only Tuesday, we learned of the publication of a new book by an ostensibly well informed French sociologist claiming that a full eighty percent of the clerics working in the Roman Curia are homosexual.

Difficult times.

Let us turn our attention to one section of Cardinal Müller’s “Manifesto of Faith,” wherein the eminent author considers the basic truths of the four last things. Having mentioned death, judgement, and Heaven, he goes on to state these hard truths concerning hell:

There is also the dreadful possibility that a person will remain opposed to God to the very end, and by definitely refusing His Love, “condemns himself immediately and forever” (CCC 1022). “God created us without us, but He did not want to save us without us” (CCC 1847). The eternity of the punishment of hell is a terrible reality, which — according to the testimony of Holy Scripture — attracts all who “die in the state of mortal sin” (CCC 1035). The Christian goes through the narrow gate, for “the gate is wide, and the way that leads to ruin is wide, and many are upon it” (Mt 7:13).

To keep silent about these and the other truths of the Faith and to teach people accordingly is the greatest deception against which the Catechism vigorously warns. It represents the last trial of the Church and leads man to a religious delusion, “the price of their apostasy” (CCC 675); it is the fraud of Antichrist. “He will deceive those who are lost by all means of injustice; for they have closed themselves to the love of the truth by which they should be saved” (2 Thess 2:10).

Earlier in his “Manifesto,” Cardinal Müller had written of the sad state of ignorance that exists among the faithful. Far from excusing them from their Christian obligations and giving them a free pass to Heaven, that state of ignorance is a danger to their immortal souls: “Today,” wrote His Eminence, “many Christians are no longer even aware of the basic teachings of the Faith, so there is a growing danger of missing the path to eternal life” (emphasis mine). This pastoral concern reminded me of what that great shepherd, Pope Saint Pius X, wrote in his Acerbo Nimis: “It is a common complaint, unfortunately too well founded, that there are large numbers of Christians in our own time who are entirely ignorant of those truths necessary for salvation. … And so Our Predecessor, Benedict XIV, had just cause to write: ‘We declare that a great number of those who are condemned to eternal punishment suffer that everlasting calamity because of ignorance of those mysteries of faith which must be known and believed in order to be numbered among the elect.’”

The “Manifesto” mentions salvation numerous times, and does so in a way that avoids the common errors of our day, errors like presumption, indifferentism (for he associates salvation with Christ and His “Mystical Body,” the Catholic Church), or the soft-core modernism that makes eternal life something natural to man. Evidently, as the above paragraphs on hell would indicate, His Eminence is no disciple of Hans Urs von Balthasar.

In the several paragraphs that follow, I am borrowing very heavily from a polemical piece that my beloved mentor and superior, Brother Francis, M.I.C.M., wrote many years ago. Both to shorten the text and to remove the not-presently-relevant particulars of the polemic, I am applying a very heavy editorial hand.

All the truths about hell belong to those mysteries which are not the proper object of reason. The best that we can do with hell rationally is to show that it is not absurd. The Rationalists make hell absurd to begin with, and then they try to make it empty — or to make believe that it is empty. In a book on Catholic Doctrine by the Very Rev. William Byrne, D.D., published in 1892, hell is defined as “the state or place of those condemned to eternal punishment.”

It is very hard for us to see from reason how any crime of man can ever deserve eternal punishment. “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” is reasonable. When a man kills another man, kill him, but why send him to eternal fire? Why send the unbaptized baby to an everlasting punishment of loss (soon to be explained) for a crime he did not personally commit?

But the hell of Faith is not a punishment for crime, but for sin; and sin adds to crime an entirely new aspect — the aspect of contempt or even hatred of God. It is because the everlasting God commanded “Thou shalt not kill” that murder becomes more than a crime — a sin.

The essence of hell consists in the loss of the Beatific Vision, a punishment common both to hell (proper) and to the Limbo of the unbaptized. The torments of hell (poena sensus) — those punishments for actual sin that are superadded to the pain of loss of heavenly beatitude (the poena damni) — belong to the accidental part of the eternal punishment. They are completely absent from Limbo. With regard to these, the same Father Byrne we have already quoted says:

“All the damned do not suffer alike. The punishment is proportioned to the malice and gravity of their sins. ‘Give unto her double according to her works.’ (Apoc. 18:6.)”

But even the guilt of original sin, by which we inherit a nature lacking the supernatural requirements (and even the supernatural desire) for the Beatific Vision, carries with it the loss of that infinite good. Naturally speaking, that good of heavenly Beatitude can neither be desired nor missed by any creature not reborn by grace.

The souls of unbaptized infants can be naturally happy. Part of their natural happiness consists in a connatural love of God, their Creator — a love and happiness not forfeited as a result of original sin. But these souls have not inherited the primordial state of grace which belonged to Adam before the fall, nor were they regenerated (born again) by the waters of Baptism.

We have, as we might say, an imperfect knowledge of hell which comes from the virtue of Faith. But, just as no man really knows darkness who has not seen the light, no man fully comprehends the doctrine of hell until he has the Beatific Vision. We cannot know hell now any more perfectly than we can know Heaven; and we know about Heaven merely because He Who came down from Heaven has deigned to reveal that truth to us.

If you ask the natural man to describe what to him would be Heaven, he can at best describe a hell, more or less comfortable. For Jesus, our Savior, revealed to us not merely the way to salvation, but the reality itself, and we have to take salvation on His entirely supernatural terms. “Now this is eternal life: That they may know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent” (John 17:3).

And now, I would like to conclude these thoughts on hell with the exact words of Brother Francis, taken from his wonderful book of meditations, The Challenge of Faith:

1. It is possible to imagine a hell that would be incompatible with a merciful, or even with a just God; but that would not be the authentic hell of Scripture, of dogma, and of Faith. 2. The essence of hell is the loss of the Beatific Vision; therefore it is the loss of something whose very reality is known only through faith. 3. Even in hell, not only the justice and wisdom of God, but also His mercy and love must be in evidence. This we cannot see now, but we will see in eternity. No one is punished in hell beyond the measure due to his sins. 4. Where sufficient awareness exists of the danger of being separated from God for all eternity, no other punishment of hell need be emphasized; but the fires and worms of hell must be preached where weakness of faith or its complete absence make light of the loss of God. 5. Without the faith, the best that our nature would desire, would amount to nothing better than a comfortable hell. This is actually most peoples’ conception of a heaven. 6. The first effects of the action of grace is to give us holy desires: hungers and thirsts for things far above this world and all that it can offer. 7. The men of holy desires, alone, understand.

For more on the subject, I point the reader to a longer piece I wrote: “There Is a Hell, and It Makes Perfect Sense.”

Let us, in gratitude, pray for Gerhard Ludwig Cardinal Müller. And let us pray for the Church Universal. The confusion and scandal of these last ten days are nothing compared to what’s coming.

But remember, “he that shall persevere to the end, he shall be saved” (Matt. 24:13).

FEB 13, 2019 Written by: BROTHER ANDRÉ MARIE

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