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obsessedwithceleste · 9 months ago

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Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

#slytherin boys #harry potter universe #slytherin #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire #matteo riddle #mattheo riddle #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott x y/n #Theo Nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfiction #Spotify

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mosovi-vian · 2 years ago

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And I will stay alive for my future self, so they can one day learn to be kind to who I was as a child. And I will teach them to honor who we used to be, so they can remember the comfort of what once was our untempered flesh and gentle soul. Me and myself are each a fresh wound and a rough scab, bearing respectively the gift of green faith and honed will.

This has been in my draft for a while because I was determined to post this only after I knew what I should write underneath it. I’ve read a lot on the concept of healing the wounded inner child since even before my c-ptsd diagnosis. However, I’ve sought as much comfort in my little self as they had in me. Looking back, I was an impressively emotionally-intuitive kid. I remember well how I used to think, the things I would write to my future self; they were wiser and gentler than I could ever hope to be as an adult. Needless to say, the little poem above is inspired by the aforementioned experience. Sure, big me is armed with a more developed pre-frontal cortex and access to invaluable resources (coping mechanisms, therapy, on and offline communities) , but I struggle to rediscover/reinvent my identity. Little me was the biggest vestige of my lost personhood. So yeah, this might be just a huge self-indulgent projection with my favorite character, but thinking that post-S3 Hunter would also be in my shoes is not completely baseless. 16yrs old Hunter is the fresh wound (a lot of things happened before his teen years, but I’m going to interpret the events of Hollow Mind - which happened when Hunter was 16 - as the ultimate boiling point in his trauma timeline, hence the ‘fresh wound') and 20yrs old Hunter is the rough scab. Each version of Hunter could be dealing with a different set of trauma-induced symptoms. I think his loyalty to Belos kept him going as a child. Being doubtless was important to Hunter back then; it held his sense of self together. And maybe when he survived and was rewarded the time and space to grow into his own person and live for himself, there was this lasting emptiness. I feel this sort of emptiness even today. My only reference of what ‘wholeness’ felt like was when I was obedient to my family. I equated self-abandonment as the righteous norm. The symptoms I deal with today are definitely different from when I was Hunter’s age pre-time-skip. Now that Hunter is in a safe space and an adult post-time skip, he might also need to seek that strength from his younger self. Reminding himself of how far he’s come and the parts of him that he'd like to keep from his past. The parts that he knows in his bones are purely his - not instilled by Belos, not inherited from Caleb.

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winstonsns · 5 months ago

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Hii I was wondering if you’d write gang when it’s your birthday? I think it’s be really cool since my birthdays the 27th!! (your inbetween pony and Johnny age wise)

the gang on your birthday (request)

pairings: ponyboy x reader, johnny x reader, sodapop x reader, darry x reader, dally x reader, two-bit x reader, steve x reader (separate platonic)

warnings: cussing

authors note: i won’t be posting anything friday to monday, im going camping! sorry about that, happy birthday! i hope you enjoy 💗

word count: 0.8k

PONYBOY CURTIS

pony looks up to you because you’re a bit older than him and probably the best role model out of the gang

as he can’t get you much because he doesn’t have a job and he doesn’t have money, he’ll somehow get you a book and write you a poem or letter

writing things is like his love language, if he gives you a note or writes a poem or a letter for you, he wrote it with his whole heart

he doesn’t really think much about getting you food or bringing you somewhere, it’s more about giving you something he took time to make

JOHNNY CADE

johnny can’t give you much because he doesn’t have money, will probably steal something from a store or restaurant for you

but he’ll talk with you late at night at the lot, feeling sorry he can’t get you much

you appreciate that he risks getting in trouble just so the two of you can talk for longer, doesn’t necessarily do much for your birthday though

instead of giving you a lot of items and money for your birthday, he talks to you a lot throughout the day about how old you are

SODAPOP CURTIS

on your birthday, soda gives you a cute letter and bakes you cupcakes or a small cake only for you

probably arrives at your house and wakes you up just to say happy birthday, a rainbow party hat on his head and a party horn

makes it everyone’s deal that it’s your birthday, takes you to do crazy stuff in restaurants and gets you food for free because ‘it’s your fucking birthday’

also makes you feel like you’re the most special person in the whole world on your birthday, basically gives you nearly everything you want because it’s your day

DARRY CURTIS

darry probably makes you chocolate cake or cupcakes with his ingredients, although whenever you come over, you have chocolate cake, it feels special when you have it on your birthday

because you’re young, he’ll rant about how you should cherish your days, it won’t be soon before all your time is gone and to take advantage of being young and having fun

sometimes his family would go out and get food for him and his brothers birthdays, so he gets you food or a little snack

he’ll get you a letter too, it says something like how you’re a good kid and and you can come to him if you ever need to

DALLAS WINSTON

dally hardly even celebrates his birthday, so if he gets you something or remembers, you’re lucky

he probably swipes you a gift from your favorite shop, he doesn’t care enough to pay for it and is more focused on getting to you than how he got the item

he might get you a letter if your relationship is truly important to him, writing only a few words, believing it’s the thought that matters

tells you that you better appreciate it, if you voice that you don’t, he’ll say something about his parents never getting him anything for his birthdays

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

two-bit tries to make you as annoyed but as happy as you can on your birthday, also making it everyone’s business

tries to get you as much as you can just by telling people ‘oh, yeah, it’s her birthday. how old are you turning again? wow you’re super old!’ even though he’s older than the seniors as a junior

swipes you a ton of random shit, brings you to the drive in just to mess around with some socs

he either babies you or treats you like an adult just to make you annoyed, he’ll do whichever one gets you ticked off, telling you, “soon enough, you’ll be able to drink beer! man, i’m gettin’ old.”

STEVE RANDLE

steve gives you some money so you can get something you want for your birthday

doesn’t really do much for your birthday, he might give you a letter or a note of some sort but very few words

at most, he’ll take the day off to hang out with you on your birthday

or if you really want to you could hang out with him at the DX and take a lot of free stuff, he lets you because it’s your birthday

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

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AITA for telling my her ex I read her poetry?

I (F19) dated my ex (F18, Lacy) for about 9 months. I broke up with her because she had a lot of issues I just didn't know how to deal with and I also fell in love with my best friend (NB19, Alex, he/his pronouns), so I decided it was the best course of action. I broke up with Lacy on January of 2023 and started dating Alex in February.

Around this time, I found an Instagram account that posted poetry. There was nothing that could identify the author, but the poetry was really good so I started to follow them. With time, however, the poems started to look... familiar. Not the writing style, but some situations on them, for example: one of them said something like "your brother's night sky truck that took us to the stars" (my older brother has a dark blue truck he would lend me so I could take Lacy on dates) and another said "that old guitar you had that you never learned to play like you played me" (I have an old guitar I inherited from my father and I indeed never learned how to play it). These are only two examples, but I found many others that convinced me that account belonged to Lacy.

I know I should have left it alone the second I realized the account belonged to her, but it was so flattering to see she wrote all of that about me. I didn't tell anyone, not my friends or Alex, but I kept following the account and reading Lacy's poetry. I think my feelings for her started to rekindle after that, because no one ever wrote about me like that and, as months passed, she kept writing about me. She never got over me.

My relationship with Alex also started to have problems during this time. He got a job at an ice cream parlour and he started a D&D campain with his friends, which means we started to spend less and less time together. He didn't seem to be as interested in me as he was during our first months of relationship, and I feel like he's taking me for granted. Lately, more specifically since December, we started to fight a lot over small things too.

We went to a New Year's party one of our friends was hosting and Lacy was there too. That enough was reason for Alex to start complaining, since he has a lot of feelings of jealousy regarding her. We ended up having a fight because he thought I knew she'd be there, which I didn't, and he went to stay with our friends, avoiding me the whole night.

It was New Year's eve and I had just fought with my partner, who was monopolizing all of our friends and leaving me by myself, so I started to drink. I know that wasn't a good idea, but I was angry and frustrated and I thought that would help. It didn't, I just got super drunk.

Since my filter disappears when I'm drunk, I went after Lacy and told her her poetry was really good. At first she was confused, so I said I found her poetry account and her poems were amazing, and I was flattered she still thought about me like that, because I didn't think anyone else ever saw me in such a beautiful way.

After that, the panic in her eyes became clear. She started to cry, not full on sobbing but some tears rolled down her face and she didn't answer me, just left. Alex saw the interaction and came to ask me what happened. I ended up telling him about Lacy's poetry account, we fought again and I decided to go home. In that same night, I searched for the poetry account and it was deleted.

This whole situation didn't leave my head since it happened and I don't know what to think. Alex has also been avoiding me and I don't understand why everyone seems to be against me. Lacy blocked me everywhere and I'm beginning to think leaving her for Alex was a huge mistake. It was also never my intention to make Lacy feel like she had to delete her account.

AITA for telling her I knew about the poetry account?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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italian-lit-tournament · 7 days ago

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Italian literature tournament - Third round.

Propaganda in support of the authors is accepted, you can write it both in the tag if reblog the poll (explaining maybe that is propaganda and you want to see posted) or in the comments. Every few days it will be recollected and posted here under the cut.

First, propaganda for Ludovico Ariosto, then for Guido Cavalcanti. The quantity of material will be colossal, so just scroll down for more.

For the Ludovico Ariosto stans:

by @larmegliamori

The opposing party has brought on the big guns, I see: us Ariosto girlies, gays and they must bare our teeth and ambitions.

So, here's my two cent on why you should vote Ludovico Ariosto!

Extreme relatability: Deeply entrenched into the politics of his time (as the firstborn of ten children, of which one was disabled and other five were women), but at the same time just wanting to stay home to live of his poetry? Dare I say iconic. Perfect representation of us literature kids.

He actually managed to marry his muse, Alessandra Benucci, and did it respectfully!

Working various jobs for patron(s) he didn't particularly like? Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

Not to mention his most widely known work, the poem "Orlando Furioso" (The rage of Roland), has all the goos stuff us modern audiences would like! It features:

A wide, diverse cast, spanning from Ireland to India, stretching probably to the (by then) newly discovered Americas;

Fantasy elements: faeries, sorcerers, giants, orcs, the first modern iteration of the hippogryph and even a fantastical voyage to the Moon!

Citations and references galore: from Virgil to Ovid, from old chansons de geste to Boccaccio!

Proto-feminism and gender studies: Ariosto's female characters, although often very feminine, are actively involved in their story arcs. The poem also features two warrior women, Bradamante and Marfisa, the former of which is the protagonist of her own subplot. Said subplot heavily relies on gender, may it be appearances or not. And let's not forget the famous tirade at beginning of the fifth canto, where the author berates femicide! If you're willing to open your heart to his writing, Ludovico Ariosto reveals himself to be a compelling, layered, modern author, and yet there's a levity to his writing that works like a balm. Vote for Ludovico Ariosto (even if only for the memes)!

I'd also like to add that Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, in the 70s, got a theatrical AND television adaptation that was too campy for its own good.

It featured, amongst other things:

- 1500s inspired costuming (it sure was... A choice but I'm not complaining)

- Mechanic horses (that literally ran on rails) and hippogryph:

- Olympia of Holland, one of the most tragic characters in all the poem, as a vamp (slay):

(Posing with Orlando/Roland in on the left, with her lover Bireno on the right)

- Astolfo literally ENTERING INTO A HOLE TO GET TO THE MOON:

The television adaptation was partly shot in the famous Baths of Caracalla, in Rome. If you want to witness this masterpiece yourself, it's on YouTube! In two parts.

Remember to always stan Zio Ludo, and vote for him! ✨

Hello everyone! For today's Ariosto Propaganda Piece, I'd like to talk about the Satire.

Those seven pieces written in terzina dantesca (because our boy Ludo knew how to pick his role models) are an interesting insight about early 1500s society and Ariosto's character and private life. They all start from an actual event in his life and enlarge towards society as a whole, often with a critical eye towards it.

The first one, destined to his brother Alessandro and a friend, starts these absolutely iconic lines:

[Quick translation: Ruggiero, if you make me so ungrateful in the eyes of your descendants, and it bears me no advantage to have sung your worth and your mighty deeds, why should I stay here, since I don't know how to cut huns on a fork, nor how to hunt games with hawks or dogs?]

A bit of context: Ariosto's first patron, bishop Ippolito d'Este, had to move from Italy to Hungary and wanted all his court to follow him. Ariosto refused because of health and family matters, and he was threatened with the loss of all the benefits he had previously granted him. Note that Ariosto was basically a kind of personal secretary to Ippolito, carrying out different important missions for him, and even risked his life a couple times to carry them out. So it's understandable he feels disappointed at his patron's reaction... and that's why, in this more "private" writings, he complains with Ippolito's ancestor, the hero Ruggiero he had extensively wrote about in his main poem.

Honestly, a genius move. Not something you see often in poetry, is it? Another reason why you need to vote for this man ;)

For the Guido Cavalcanti stans:

Propaganda in favor of Guido Cavalcanti by @eresia-catara

May I add further propaganda for Guido: He's a noble, he disdains aristocrats, he was Florence's number one Server of Cunt, he was the city's faggot, he was heretical, he went on a random pilgrimage but interrupted it and managed to be buried in a church anyway, he had an archenemy who sent some men to murder him on said pilgrimage, he came back and tried to murder him back in plain daylight, he gave zero fucks about politics, he got exiled because he was considered a menace for the city. He SAW DANTE's poetical talent, encouraged it, shaped it, and through him the whole of italian literature. Think about it. Also they became besties until they evolved to a tormented psychosexual haunting dynamic (see break-up poem) where Dante himself actually exiled him. In the 13th century his poetry anticipates so many of the literary themes of the XXth century, going from fragmentation of the self (his is basically vivisection and dispersion of his parts), to dissociation from one's own mind and body, lack of identity, irony, desecration, his poetry is full of schizophrenic-like hallucinations, reading them is truly a trip, and yet his language is profoundly meoldic and sweet. And there's also gender-fuckery. and theater, of course, because his poems develop like a scene from a theater (adding layers to the dissociation). So really he has it all guys.

The thing is, Ariosto feels very contemporary but Guido is the og relativist and unreliable narrator. His poetry offers NO truth whatsoever you only have a sequence of schizophrenic hallucinations and what he describes only seems like it's real but who knows, the narrator is dead, how can he even speak or if he's alive he's not because he has dissociated himself from his body and is only coldly contemplating his own murder. He's not reliable because he has lost his reason, his soul has crubled into pieces and each piece has fled his body. Also he hears voices, and feels a sadistic presence in his mind in the form of a woman watching him die. This man was too ahead of his time, he was too dramatic, too eccentric, but also too acute and sensible, he must have looked deranged and we love him for it. and deserves to be voted!

Guido Cavalcanti propaganda by @girldante

GUIDO CAVALCANTI PROPAGANDA ABBIAMO:

LA DISSOCIAZIONE SCHIZOFRENICA:

IL COMICO, IL SIMPATICO BURLONE, IL MEMATORE ANTE LITTERAM:

IL MACABRO, IL GORE, I SINTOMI™

IL BREAKUP TOSSICO PASSIVO AGGRESSIVO CON DANTE

in conclusione

you can find my old propaganda here, but listen, while i do respect zio ludo's rizz, a vote for guido cavalcanti is a vote for gender roles reversal, death-life liminality, medieval atheism, antisocial freaks obsessed with philosphy who imagine their pens are talking to people about their owner's suffering (what is wrong with him), eye carving enjoyers (what the FUCK is wrong with him), sons who are sacrifical lambs, people who have long swinging necks like geese (allegedly???), and gay breakups involving dante alighieri. and also, well, I don't recall ariosto wearing a miku binder. twice.

in conclusion

Guido Cavalcanti propaganda by @apis-vergilii

Here’s my Guido propaganda: @girldante and @eresia-catara have already covered the poetry reasons, and I’m here to get metatextual about the whole thing.

Simply put, this is the Weird Niche Hellsite, and Guido is the Weird Niche Hellcandidate.

We live in an era of the cynical enshittification of the internet. In a sickened sea of dying social platforms, AI slop, and every last pixel being for sale, THIS is still the webbed site where a bunch of strangers can rediscover a lesser-known medieval poet in all his angsty, gothy glory, abandon all pretense of ironic detachment or mature indifference and go absolutely apeshit over his life and work, breathlessly and deliriously creating everything from exhaustively researched essays with footnotes, to anime fan art and inexplicable photoshops. This is the place where Goncharov happened. This is the place where we stole the president’s shoelaces. This is the place where a heretical medieval Tuscan stilnovista got himself a full-on Fandom, and we are all so much the better/worse for it.

So vote for the spirit of the old internet in all its dorky glory. Vote for the joy of learning things for fun and not for school. Vote for the bizarre Florentine emo goth. A vote for Guido Cavalcanti…is a vote for all of us.

if all else fails to convince you, well, i don't recall ariosto having an historical fantasy saga centered around him where he gains clairvoyance and gets increasingly more and more manipulated by the manifestation of his generational trauma. also he gets out of his body to have epic fights with spiritual creatures.

this should be a testimony to how his cuntserving echoed through time

Propaganda by @girldante and @eresia-catara that I guess should be read together:

well. seeing as we're on topic. Was Ariosto ever described as having

les bras d'Hercule avec des mains de nymphe by a 19th century french story? It is not made up guys, he served androgynous cunt so hard it didn't go unnoticed. Guido simply suggests fluidity.

Like. Arms like Hercules and hands like a nymph.

And Lorenzo il Magnifico also Fangirled over him in a letter to the Federico of Aragon

he (Lorenzo il Magnifico!!) was simply begging him to read his poems, and that's because they are absolutely eatable in all their irreverent, elegant, goth glory.

Finally, Boccaccio wrote about him in his Decameron (VI,9) and, truly, can you say no to him:

this little ballerina? look at how sad he looks!

would you look at that! Guido Cavalcanti propaganda is publicly sponsored by thee Lorenzo De' Medici himself!!!

as for the last bit, Boccaccio's novella from Decameron, where Guido calls out a bunch of idiots through a riddle that said idiots will take a bunch of time to understand and then proceeds to abandon them jumping over a grave, was cited by thee Italo Calvino in his Lezioni Americane as an example of his conception of lightness, as in the ability to lift oneself over the heaviness of the world.

In conclusion: Guido Cavalcanti is literally your fave's fave.

#Ludovico Ariosto #Guido Cavalcanti #IIT - third round

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panthermouthh · 1 year ago

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A Cornstalk Fiddle

(Part 1/?)

And here they are! The first three pages of a fan comic, based on @notbecauseofvictories brain altering fic 'A Cornstalk Fiddle'. Read more below if you're interested in where this comic came from and where it’s going :))

I've continuously returned to notbecauseofvictories’s writing over the years— if I ever feel lost in my own story telling when it comes to comics, poems or prose, notbecauseofvictories is one of those authour's whose work always reignites a creative spark in me, and I just wanted to make my own tribute to one of my favourite stories <33

I've had this all visually planned out in the back of my mind for a year now, and finally drafted the storyboards this summer. I can’t promise a timeline of when the next pages will be posted, hopefully over the next few months, but I’m planning on doing this whole scene and it should come to about ten. I hope you guys enjoy them and tell me what you think!

#a cornstalk fiddle #the devil went down to georgia #johnny and the devil #notbecauseofvictories #southern gothic #gothic art #comic #my comic #my art #i had The Pictures in my head too long and have become ill so i am drawing this comic now hahahah #trying to convey the Devils wierdness and power in art form is a challenge #he does love to shape shift #more to come soon i hope #having work that doesnt exhaust u with decent hours sure does wonders for the brain!

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beloved-child-of-the-house · 15 days ago

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Draco had got barely halfway across the Entrance Hall when it happened. He felt the Trip Jinx round his ankles before he saw his assailants, and he went sprawling hard onto the cold stone floor, the wind knocked out of him, his wand spinning away to clatter out of sight and well out of reach. He lay on his front, coughing and gasping with ugly laughter ringing in his ears.

"Nasty tumble, there Malfoy," jeered someone behind him. "You want to mind where you're going, or you could hurt yourself."

Draco pushed up onto his hands and knees, still trying to get his breath. There was no way he could reach his wand before they jinxed him again; he hadn't even seen where it landed. He never was any good at muggle duelling. He got one leg under him, bracing himself to be knocked flat again, and heard a shout from above him.

"Protego!"

The jinx bounced off the Shield, and Draco got to his feet under its protection. Harry Potter was striding down the marble staircase toward them looking like a thunderstorm. Halfway along he stooped and picked up Draco's wand. He hardly glanced at Draco as he passed him and marched up to the little knot of seventh years picking themselves up from where they'd been hit by the rebounding jinx.

"Think it's funny to knock people down, do you, McLaggen?" snarled Potter, glaring up at the biggest of the lot.

"Oh don't get your wand in a knot, Potter. It's only Malfoy," said McLaggen in the sort of tone you might use to say 'It's only a slug.' "No love lost there, eh?"

"It doesn't matter who it is! We're not doing things like that anymore," Potter said furiously. "We just got done with a fucking war, and you want to keep fighting? You lot want to keep it going just for fun? Well, I don't, and I better not see you do that again! Now clear off! Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

"You can't--"

"Too fucking right I can! Now get back to your common room!" And, perhaps because Potter was Head Boy, perhaps because he looked like he could spit nails, or perhaps simply because he was Harry Potter, they did clear off. Potter watched them go, then turned to Draco. He still looked quite angry, but he was clearly trying to gather himself, "You okay?"

Draco had grazed his palms rather badly from throwing his hands out when he landed; his left wrist and forefinger were throbbing mightily, and his chest still ached, but he shrugged, "Fine."

Potter grabbed his sleeve and pulled Draco toward him to inspect his injuries, "Liar. You should go to the hospital wing and get that sorted out."

"I'll live," said Draco, but he didn't withdraw.

Potter frowned at him, chewed his lip. "I heal it for you if you'd rather," he offered after a moment.

"If nothing else will please you."

Potter pointed his wand at Draco's bleeding hands, "Episkey." The scrapes vanished, and Draco felt the spell heal his sprained wrist and finger as well. Potter pressed something into Draco's hands. Draco's wand. Draco had already forgotten he'd picked it up.

______

Excerpt from my new fic Queen of the Weeds! Drarry, Rated E, 60K. This is a coming of age story about figuring out who you're going to be and what you're going to do after your life very publicly falls apart. Draco and Harry become friends and more after they both return to Hogwarts for their 8th year after the war.

This fic is not a WIP, it is complete. I will be posting new chapters on Sundays and Thursdays until the whole thing is up.

Also gratitude to Allie @oflights from whom I got the poem that I took the title from.

#drarry #8th year fic #apliddell #hpdm #drarry fic rec #hpdm fic rec #omg it took me over a YEAR to write this and i enjoyed it so much!#i have never written such a long fic from Draco's POV before #and it's the second longest fic i've ever written in my life!!!#I love it and I've been looking forward to sharing it with you so much!#i hope you enjoy reading it <3

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music-orthemisery · 6 months ago

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Pre-Folie Release Madness of (p)2- A Timeline

After spending a few days in cuckoo bananas world thanks to the video re: Patrick's best man speech, @grandtreeangel and I have some things to slide across the table.

Between October 19, 2008 and November 7th, 2008, FOB played a series of shows leading up to the release of Folie a Deux. Each show featured a Pete/Patrick banter moment that, when put together, creates a very...interesting narrative.

October 19th - Birmingham, England show

Pete making a Top Gun reference to the $20 bar bet scene while Patrick plays the Top Gun theme song.

youtube

The scene in question: "Total carnal knowledge...of a woman this time, on the premises"

October 22nd - London, England show

First live performance of Patrick's "Love Lockdown" cover

Please see @grandtreeangel’s post HERE for more context on this totally normal thing Patrick did.

October 25th - Lille, France show

OG "my little cabbage" moment Pete, in French, says to Patrick, "You are beautiful, my little cabbage."

youtube

October 27th OR 28th - Blog post

Pete posts this on his Tumblr . It says 10/27, but there's some disagreement on time zones so it may be 10/28. EITHER WAY...

Originally, this linked to a clip from the movie Love, Actually. In this scene, a man confesses his love to a woman who is married to his best friend.

youtube

There's plenty of debate about this movie, scene, and storyline in general, but we aren't here for that right now!!!

Let's just focus on the facts:

Woman. Married. To BEST FRIEND.

The man was the best man AND the videographer at the wedding.

This whole moment is done secretly. He confesses, they kiss, she goes back inside and tells her husband it was just some carolers.

In general, this whole story arc is ripe with longing and unattainable love due to a marriage keeping the man from being with the woman.

I...wonder what this sounds like...

October 28th - Toronto, Canada show

Love Lockdown cover where Patrick says, "That's for you, Pete."

youtube

Again, Patrick being very normal!!!

October 29th - Blog Post

Pete contributes an entry to Bill's "Mondayeyes" poetry club on friendsorenemies.com:

Credit to @alphadog's post for this HERE

The entire poem is quite impactful, but a few lines of interest:

"Where do you get off?" or more like "how"

and...

"You chose this"

When Pete uses quotes, it's noted that this indicates things that have been said to him.

There are scents and spells that keep us coming together, there are sparks that keep us forever

The art of keeping up disappearances

Also, big hello to some Rat-A-Tat lyrics

Whenever I could make the sweat roll backwards and your pulse stream in reverse

(Big thank you to @dykeandyhurley for sending this to me)

November 6th - Boston, MA show

Pete shares the story about Patrick's best man speech.

Huge props to @predoom for finding this moment!

youtube

If you haven't seen Top Gun (?!), the context here is very important:

The line "Ice, fire, or clear," is said in the scene where Goose dies.

Scene: "Ice, Fire or Clear!"

Also, it should be noted that, to Pete, he is Goose and Patrick is Maverick.

The fact that Patrick picks this quote to say to Pete...in his best man speech...at PETE'S WEDDING. A quote said when Maverick LOSES Goose.

AND...apparently no one else in the reception quite...get's it. Pete is the only one who does. That line was just for Pete. From Patrick.

Of all the lines in that movie, he picks that one, from that moment.

Then, of course...

We have "The Kids Aren't Alright."

youtube

Featuring the lyrics:

Stuck in the jet wash Bad trip I couldn't get off And maybe I bit off more than I could chew And overhead of the aqua blue

Along with Pete's annotation:

November 7th - Philadelphia, PA show

Patrick sings Lullabye.

Take a peek at this post for all of that mess.

youtube

"Well, Bronx was about to be born!"

Sure, sure. I'm not DENYING the relevance there. Just. Go look at the post, damn it. Trust me.

And then...?

Nothing. They take a break, Bronx is born, and then they play a show in Columbus, OH on December 1, 2008. This whole little back and forth ends. Folie a Deux is released on December 10th and...well...we all know what happens after that.

#absolutely fucking insane honestly #we've been obsessing over this all day #adult responsibilities? what are those in the face of p2 lore?!#anyway. hope you enjoyed the fruits of our crazy #p2 #peterick #pete wentz #patrick stump #fall out boy #folie a deux #pre-hiatus #hijinx and tomfoolery

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