#stay tuned for a post that i need a little more power to compose
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
... ... ... 'sup
#spiderverse#across the spiderverse#into the spiderverse#spiderman#my brain chemicals are still in the middle of altering#nothing around me is real#i need to I don't know actually#i'm not even tired but wwhoooooooo boy i need a processing nap#those naps you take so you can process stuff#and HONESTLY i'm just talking about the style and animation and color choices just the whole thing visually#just that#AND THEN there's the story on top of it#my friend andni stayed through part of the credits and when we stood up#we realized there were some employees there waiting to clean up#and hearing everything we said#which was bafflement#i refuse to say spoilers#we drove separately and yet we both screamed at some point on our drives home#my brain will be shut down until further notice#stay tuned for a post that i need a little more power to compose
1 note
·
View note
Note
What other new abilities does Niffty have now that she's an Overlord?
I'm gonna pair these together, they're close enough. (Sorry it took so long anon)
As mentioned in a previous post, some of her contracted souls become, sort of, sentient cleaning tools? I had referenced that Fantasia cartoon with Mickey and the walking brooms, and to that note, yes, it's similar to Beauty and the Beast, with brooms, mops, and feather dusters alike.
She has no particular resources, but she has staff that are good at....cleaning up. (Hired assassins, coverups, even literally cleaning messes, she charges costs in monetary payment or souls). If you need something done neatly and discreetly, she's your gal.
Her district is neat and clean, and it's damn near impossible to find even a single thing out of place.
With the power available to her, she's a bit more....coherent, than she is as Alastor's assistant. Much more composed, more sane. Not to say she isn't still a bit crazy, but she's a little more aware.
Anyway that's all I got for now, stay tuned for more lore and keep asking questions if you have em, I'm having fun :]
#overlord niffty au#hazbin#niffty hazbin#hazbin niffty#niffty hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel niffty#niffty#hazbin hotel
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gender? In THIS Economy?
Read here on AO3!
Summary:
Duke is questioning stuff and goes to Tim for advice. (feat. trans!Tim and nonbinary!Duke)
“Here you go. One Batburger with extra pickles, extra onions, and extra extra mayonnaise.” Duke drops the paper takeout bag unceremoniously into Tim’s lap. “Your taste buds need a tune-up, bro.”
Tim unwraps his burger and takes a bite. Batburger may be questionable when it comes to copyright laws, but damn if they don’t pile on the condiments better than any fast food restaurant in Gotham. “Sounds to me like you simply haven’t reached the sky-scraping level of enlightenment that I have, grasshopper.”
“Enlightenment would have been going to Red Robin and using your uniform to get a discount,” Duke says. He sits beside Tim on the rooftop’s edge, their legs dangling side by side a hundred feet above Gotham’s plunging gray streets. He digs into his own burger and makes a face. “Enlightenment would also be getting the Robin Nuggets next time. This tastes like dried leather.”
“I like it,” Tim says with a shrug. “It has personality.”
“So does raw sewage, but you don’t see me eating that.”
Tim concedes the point. His communicator buzzes in his belt. He checks the screen and discovers an alert from Cass composed entirely of clown emojis and red harlequin diamonds.
Duke notices. “Should we get that?”
Tim pockets the communicator. “Nah, Spoiler’s got it. We have time to relax.” And he’s not about to pass up quality time with the one little brother who doesn’t hate him. It’s hard enough as it is for Tim and Duke to find the time, what with them being on opposite sleeping schedules and work snatching their attention away with grabby, toddler-sized hands.
“Don’t get a lot of that during the day shift,” Duke says. “Every time an alarm goes off, it’s my business.”
Tim knocks him in the side with his elbow. “That’s what you get for turning to the light side instead of kicking it in the shadows with us. More employees to go around.” He sips his soda for a moment. “Why did you come out tonight, anyway? I thought you stayed in on weeknights.”
“Right. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Duke says it carefully, like he’s testing the waters. “I need advice.”
Tim has to admit that his chest puffs out a little at that. It’s not often people come to him for advice when Dick and Barbara are right there, all full of adult wisdom that Tim is too pitifully shrimpy to possess. “What’s up?”
“It’s kind of...personal.”
“Yes, Bruce does have special powder for suit-chafing. It’s in the cabinet under the first-aid supplies.”
“It’s not that,” Duke says, though he snorts in half-hearted laughter. He looks down at his hands like he’s dreading the words lodged in his throat. “What was it like, realizing you were a dude?”
One of Tim’s eyebrows shoots up. “Oh.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s an invasive question.”
“No, no, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard, is all.” It’s not like this is the first time someone has asked. Tim used to be uncomfortable talking about it, but he’s grown up since then. Talking about his trans journey is as normal as talking about what he did yesterday. He eats a fry. “What do you want to know?”
Duke searches Tim’s face for a sign that he’s lying, that he should back off. When he doesn’t find one, he asks, “How old were you when you figured it out?”
Tim thinks back. “Nine, I think? But even before that, it’s not like I ever really felt like a girl. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what. When I first heard about what being transgender meant, everything I’d been feeling until then clicked into place.”
“What was it like?” Duke asks, “growing up the way you did? Presenting as a girl when you knew you weren’t?”
Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. It was life at the time. I dealt with it.”
“Was it hard? Pretending to be something you weren’t?”
Tim doesn’t know what answer Duke is looking for, or why he’s so interested, but he won’t ask. “My parents always had this idea of me being the perfect daughter, all obedient and graceful and crap. I’m pretty sure their hope was to eventually marry me off to the highest bidder so they could reap the business benefits.”
“That sounds awful.”
Tim shrugs again. “I didn’t start feeling any different than I should have until around six or seven. I was always a tomboy. I liked doing boy stuff and playing sports, but my parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of. They’d make me wear dresses and go to fancy parties with them, all the while I just wanted to claw my skin off and go home.”
He remembers the nights he would lie awake in bed, imagining what it must be like to have been born someone else. Anyone else. To grow up as a little boy who was allowed to run around, to get dirty, to be himself instead of following some arbitrary guidelines someone else drew up the day he was born. He imagined what it would feel like to answer to a different name than the one he’d been given, which grated on his ears the longer time went on, like an itchy sweater he couldn’t shed. It was hell.
He gives Duke a sly grin. “But the upside of having absent parents is that there aren’t as many people watching you. No one cared if I went to school in the boy’s uniform instead of the girl’s. No one was there to stop me from cutting my hair short the way I wanted it.”
Duke's eyes widen. “You cut your own hair?”
“It went exactly the way you’re thinking. I had to go to the barber the next day and have them fix it because it was so uneven. But by the end of the day, it was the way I always imagined it. I was finally starting to look like the person I wanted to be.”
Duke stares intently at the remains of his burger as if the universe’s answers to an unspoken question were written in sesame seeds. “Did it get better after that? Did you feel...at peace?”
“‘Course not. The world wasn’t magically fixed just because I took a step in the right direction. My problems didn’t go away.” When he says that, Duke looks almost...disappointed? “But,” Tim adds, “it was better than it was before. I still had to act for my parents and the rest of the world, but I didn’t have to hide from myself anymore.”
“How did your parents react when they found out?”
Tim grimaces. “They...didn’t take it well.” He can still hear his father’s voice in his memories, bringing up therapy and camps and whatever places he could think of that would “fix” his little girl.
“But, after a while,” Tim continues, “it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon. I guess they figured it would be easier to go along with it than fight me every step of the way. They still didn’t like it, but they tolerated it.”
Duke is quiet.
“Why do you ask?” Tim prods.
Duke’s expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s nights like this when Tim can see how perfectly Duke fits into this mental institution they call a family. For all that Duke thrives in the light, he keeps his cards just as close to his chest as the rest of them. He gives Tim a half-smile. “Just wondering.”
“Okay.”
They fall into weighted silence, the scales tipping on either side of their post, but never settling. Tim waits. He finishes his burger and busies himself with reorganizing the pouches in his belt, giving Duke the privacy to think.
“I don’t know,” Duke starts after several minutes, “if I’m a boy.” He looks at Tim. “I think I might be something else.”
“Okay,” Tim says calmly. “What do you feel like?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt different, y’know? When I was a kid, it was because I was smarter than everyone in my class. And it was fine, because I knew what it was and how it worked and why it was a good thing, being the smart one. It made sense. Time went on, the other kids started catching up, but that mismatched feeling never went away. I never felt right in my skin.”
Duke’s face rises to the dark clouds, the Batsignal shining from the top of the police station like a holy beacon. “Then I met Batman. My powers started to come in and everything clicked into place, all at once. That was why I never felt like I fit in with everyone else, because I was different. I had powers. That must have been it.”
“But it wasn’t,” Tim guesses.
Duke shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I mean, what else could it have been, you know? It should have explained why I never felt at home in my identity. But time goes on, I learn how to use my powers, and it fixes some of it, but not everything. There’s still part of me that looks in the mirror and sees something off. Some detail out of place.”
“Do you feel like a girl?” Tim ventures to ask.
Duke folds over the corner of his straw wrapper again and again in tiny triangles. “Nah, I doubt it. I like some feminine things, but I don’t think I’m a girl. Or a guy. I think...I might be nonbinary?”
Tim does his best to channel Bruce’s “supportive dad” energy and smiles. “Okay. What pronouns do you want to use?”
“They/them, maybe? For a while?”
“Duly noted.” He puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “I really do appreciate you telling me.”
Duke rubs the back of their neck, their cheeks flushing. “It feels good to say out loud. Not just in my head.”
“Do you think you’re going to tell anyone else? You don’t have to if you’re not ready, but our whole family will support you.”
“Yeah.” Duke picks at their nails, nodding absently. “I know they will. I’m not worried about that.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
Duke takes a deep breath in, and Tim is reminded of a balloon close to bursting. “My parents aren’t dead. I’m going to get them back. And when I do...what are they going to think when they wake up after half a decade and find out that their son isn’t their son anymore? What if they don’t like the person they see?”
Tim can’t say that he hadn’t swum with the same thoughts years ago, back when the person who is Tim Drake was still on the drawing board. But there’s a difference between his situation and Duke’s. “Your parents love you, Duke. They’re not going to stop loving you just because you’ve grown up since they last saw you.”
“What if it’s too much? The superpowers and the crime-fighting and the new gender...it’s a lot to take in.”
“Well, sure,” Tim says. “It might take some time for them to get used to it, but this is who you are. They’re going to love it just as much as they love the rest of you.”
Duke smiles, and if their eyes are a little misty, Tim pretends not to notice.
“Besides,” he says. “If I were you, I’d just lead with the superpowers thing. Anything after that sounds perfectly acceptable.”
#i know this is choppy i'm sorry i just got sick of staring at the word doc#i want to focus on writing but the other half of my brain is like 24/7#ravencycleravencycleRAVENCYCLE#it's a struggle#duke thomas#the signal#dc signal#tim drake#red robin#robin#batman#batman and robin#batman and the signal#batfamily#batfam#trans tim drake#nonbinary duke thomas#trans duke thomas#pride month#fanfiction#fanfic
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
little prince.
For Helsa Week 2021, Day 1: Parenthood ♥️ @helsaweekmasterlist
Excerpt. It was a perfect day for him and his little family, just the three of them, together, and he couldn't ask for something more perfect than this precious moment.
Rating: G • Word Count: 1,355
The fic will soon be posted on AO3 and FFnet as per usual. It's already day 2, where I live, but nah, let me post this now cause I fell asleep and it's still 19 April somewhere in the globe. Also, the prequel of this fic will be posted soon cause it fits the prompt (Soulmates) so please stay tuned. Hope you like it! 💕
—
Hans knew this day would arrive, yet no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he would be fine, it was still something he dreaded most. He wasn't ready for such a responsibility, then he recalled his mother's words from the last letter: who ever is ready?
The Prince Consort had just adjourned a Council meeting and was on his way to pick up some flowers for his wife, when he saw Kai, the Queen's advisor, quickly walked towards him. A tall servant, dressed in her usual day uniform in Arendelle's signature colour, was trailing after the advisor. Hans flashed them a smile, which turned into a slight frown as he noticed the look of panic and shock on their faces.
"Your Highness." Kai and the servant bowed.
"Is there anything you'd like to say, Kai?" Hans raised an eyebrow.
Kai took a deep breath, as if he was trying to compose himself, before he spoke, "It's the Queen."
As soon as he heard those words, Hans began to think of the worst. What happened to Elsa? Are they going to be okay? Goodness, he could only wonder and hope for the best.
"Did something happen to her?"
"The Queen is in labour, Sir," the tall servant replied.
The news gave him heart palpitations, and he was too stunned to move. "Already? But the doctor said the baby wouldn't be due until the end of the month."
"Apparently, there's still a chance that the baby would be due sooner," Kai added, then made a gesture to let him walk first.
"Has the doctor been called?"
The advisor replied from beside him, "Yes, Sir. He is already there with the Queen."
"What about the Princess?"
The auburn haired Prince could only imagine the look of shock on his sister in law's face when she realised she might miss the birth of her nephew or niece. He wondered if she and Kristoff would cut their honeymoon short once they received the news.
"We've already sent a messenger to the inn they're staying in."
Hans nodded. "Thank you, Kai."
With every step he took towards their chamber, Hans couldn't help but worry. His soulmate, the love of his life, was looking radiant and well that morning. He didn't even hear any complaints from her about any pain, or how their baby kept her up all night. Then again, Elsa rarely complained and mostly kept everything to herself. Having been trained all her life to conceal her powers, it was a lesson that became a habit and stayed with her.
Stopping before a white wooden double door with various patterns, he then grabbed the handle, before one of the servants stopped him.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but you're not allowed in."
"I'm the husband of the Queen, I have every right to be there," he stated firmly, masking his nerves behind the shades.
Not waiting for an approval, he pushed the door open. The moment he stepped in, Hans was greeted by the sight of his wife lying on the bed, back propped up by a few pillows and cushions behind her. He caught her weak smile, almost immediately, and it still bore the same warmth, despite the fact that she must be in so much pain.
"Elsa!"
In a brief second, Hans was already on his wife's side, holding her hand. He pressed a gentle kiss on her temple, then murmured some sweet nothings to her ear. From the look on her face and her ragged breathing, he could tell she was as nervous as he was.
The elegant Queen of ice and snow, who usually concealed her emotions well from the world, was now looking disheveled and undone. Her platinum blonde hair was unkempt, sweats rolling down her forehead, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Elsa allowed him to embrace her, as she turned to rest her head against his shoulder.
"Hans, what if," she paused, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Once she finally calmed down, she gazed into his emerald eyes, her free hand resting on her belly. "If something goes wrong—"
"Oh, please don't say that." Hans furrowed his eyebrows, not liking where the conversation might be heading to. "We have talked about this, Elsa."
"Yes, we have. But promise me, if it goes wrong and I can't make it, promise me that you will take care of our child and make sure they are loved." She choked back a sob. "Don't make the same mistake as our parents."
He knew the risks of childbirth. He had witnessed how one of his brothers slowly sank into madness after both his wife and their unborn child passed away. The past few months, the image had been haunting him until he picked up a pen and wrote to his mother back home, which was so out of character for him. But he didn't want to bother Elsa with his thoughts and fears, for she already had enough things on her plate.
He held her cerulean gaze with honesty and love. Her soulmate. The one who had kept him grounded. The one who had conquered her own fears. Now she looked so scared. Although Hans knew she was a strong woman and what she was capable of, he understood her. What she needed at the moment was a reassurance.
"Elsa, hey," he gently called her, brushing back her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "I promise." Pressing languid kisses on her cheek, he came to rest his hand atop her hand that was resting on her belly.
"It'll be alright, darling. You are strong, and you can do this, okay?"
Elsa nodded, blinking back the tears furiously. She tried to catch her breath, gripping his hand tightly. Her palm felt cold in his grasp, and Hans could only imagine how she was feeling.
"I will be here, holding you. We will get through this together, yeah?" He murmured. Nuzzling her hair, he murmured softly, "I got you, Elsa."
If only everything was easy and full of certainty.
—
The quietude felt so strange for them. After hours of constant screaming and crying in pain, the silence that was currently engulfing them almost felt too loud, but the Queen and the Prince Consort found it rather peaceful.
Hans sat on the bed with his back resting against the headrest. Smiling, He watched as the small bundle of joy fell asleep on his mother's chest. The small fingers curled in front of his face, and Hans couldn't help but observe his face closely. He beamed when he realised that his son inherited Westergaard's nose and hair colour.
His son. Their little prince.
Warmth filled his chest at that thought. It almost felt like a dream for him, how his world had changed so quickly. Two years ago, he was shipped to Arendelle to seduce the Crown Princess of Arendelle, who turned out to be his soulmate. Little did he know that he would grow to love her, and they would make it work together.
"A penny for your thoughts?" The gentle whisper woke him from his train of thoughts.
He turned to see Elsa smiled, her eyes blinking slowly as if she tried to fight the sleepiness. Leaning in, he captured her lips with his, the taste of her lips lingering for a while.
"I was just thinking about how lucky I am."
"Me too, actually," she said, before yawning.
At that sight, Hans tried to hold back his chuckle, especially when the baby had just fallen asleep.
"Get some sleep, darling." Lying on the bed to hold her, he then pressed another kiss on the top of her head. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"I love you," she murmured, eyes fluttering close.
"I love you too, Elsa." He gushed. "You and our little prince."
It was a perfect day for him and his little family, just the three of them, together. Glancing at the mother and son, his heart was full of happiness and warmth. He couldn't ask for something more perfect than this precious moment.
#helsa#Helsa Week 2021#Helsa Week#HelsaWeek2021#elsa x hans#hans x elsa#iceburns#hansla#queen elsa#prince hans#frozen#helsa fanfiction
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
bsd as their zodiac signs | port mafia
a/n: continuation of the bsd as zodiac signs series !! i’ll try to make some more for other characters (very interested in discussing fyodor being a scorpio) so stay tuned for that in the near future !!
▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂
chuuya nakahara | taurus
kgljgkajd CHUUYA IS SUCH A TAURUS I JUST HAVE TO SAY THAT RIGHT NOW
when i saw this i squealed because we’re compatible so if you’re a cancer come get your man
aNYWAY
tauruses are known for being very stubborn, loyal, and hardworking and chuuya definitely shows all of that
loyalty is very important to him which is why he’s pretty much dedicated his life to the mafia. also him being able to climb up to the executive position is because of his hard work
also works pretty much 24/7 and if he’s not doing missions he’s doing paperwork
baby needs a break
tauruses, and other earth signs as well, are known to be materialistic and self-indulgent too but that mostly comes from how hardworking they are too
spending money is just one of his ways to self-care (he is a self-care king) and it’s a reward for himself after all those missions
he can get a bit extravagant though like,, he has a closet full of things he kind of regrets buying (either that or he gifts them to people)
chuuya’s actually really good at cooking. he’s very much a healthy eater and likes to put effort into what he eats
he would actually love to cook for his friends he’s just too tsundere to admit that
him being a taurus gives him the makings of a mom friend and yet chuuya is reluctant to accept this
akutagawa ryuunosuke | pisces
ngl pisces are just very strange in general it’s so hard for me to put a finger on their personality
but one thing that i do notice a lot is that pisces tend to be very mature or sometimes very wise-sounding when they talk
and akutagawa does have that very mature and serious air when he talks to people. he’s very composed and articulate when he speaks
pisces also tend to be quite insecure and self-blaming (according to co-star their source of weakness is themselves yes i have the site up whenever i write)
and akutagawa, despite his strength, doesn’t see himself as powerful
it’s because he tends to remember a lot of past hurts and isn’t quite able to move on
likes to just have quiet time to himself to sip tea but it’s often interrupted by his own Thoughts so he goes back to look for work or something else to do
i feel like that akutagawa has this tendency to collect things that pique his interest. just little knickknacks from missions like a piece of glass or a really cool rock
has this tendency to just tune out when people are talking and then he’ll nod his head and pretend to understand
he’s re-enacted multiple scenarios in his head of dazai praising him for his growth somebody help him
ozaki koyou | capricorn
my love for capricorns is endless and that definitely extends to koyo ozaki
she exudes so much dignified energy i can feel it through my laptop screen and i bet it would be such a dream to work for her
she’s very organized and meticulous when it comes to her work i bet her brain is just full of important dates and to-do lists
that said, koyo likes to pay special attention to her appearance too, her attire, hair, and make-up just to match her overall put-together vibe
deliberately chose not to wear suits like everyone else in the mafia because she knows it’ll be too powerful
that said, capricorns are also very detached with their emotions and they like to keep things nice and ✨repressed✨
she’s not one to express affections or emotion outright because a) that would be a waste of time and b) why?
but she does value connections and relationships she’s built over time and won’t let go of things like those so easily
like her adopted son, koyo does like to indulge a bit in nice, expensive things
when she’s willing to give herself a break, she likes to unwind in a hot springs resort or buy herself a new kimono (her closet is immaculate btw)
that said, she probably has a billion pet peeves including but not limited to: people who chew gum real loud, when someone opens a door and doesn’t close it behind them, chewing while talking, the smell of coffee--
all of her fellow executives and mori take great pains to memorize these pet peeves so that they’re not under koyo’s death glare
▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂
taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @atsumusdomain @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo @guardianangelswings @ah-kaashi @amberalisa @whootwhoot @liz-multifandom-hotel @kac-chowsballs @violentfarewll @fyoyacanruinmylifethanks
#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bsd headcanons#chuuya nakahara#chuuya#akutagawa ryuunosuke#akutagawa#ozaki koyou#koyou#port mafia#port mafia headcanons#bsd character analysis#bungou stray dogs headcanons#bsd as their zodiac signs
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
okay went back to long post 2.0 and the Pictionary concept so now I’m going to create an insanely long list of Pictionary pair-ups and how they’d work in the cottage on game night
Here are all the people I presume would be allowed in for game night:
Reynie, Sticky, Kate, Constance, Martina, S.Q, Jackson, Jillson, Mr Benedict, Number Two, Rhonda, Milligan, Miss Perumal
Here we go! Reminder: this is crazy long so only about a sentence each unless I’m inspired
Reynie - Sticky: absolutely killing it, definitely come in second if not first because while neither of them can actually draw that well, they’re in tune with what the other person is trying to get across. even if it looks like nonsense to everybody else, they understand
Reynie - Kate: not amazing but pretty good! Half the time she doesn’t know what on earth he’s drawing or her gesturing is just confusing him even more but the other half? really accurate
Reynie - Constance: good but only because she has trained him in the art of Not Losing. Constance does not do the losing thing Reynie and she’s also not bad at drawing so they’re getting by okay
Reynie - Martina: consists mainly of ‘uhhhhhhhh’ noises at each other and then a guess that’s kinda right. Dead bird is kinda a roast chicken right?
Reynie - S.Q: amazing perfect legendary! but not when Reynie is drawing. S.Q hasn’t seen a lot of things so it’s kinda hard for him to guess, especially when it’s all quite wobbly
Reynie - Jackson: fine, weirdly. Jackson is less intense than Jillson during game night so as long as they’re not coming last he can handle it.
Reynie - Jillson: she is yelling loudly and Reynie is a human question mark. He needs to learn that when it looks like a cornflake, it’s meant to be a bird
Reynie - Mr Benedict: really good! Reynie loves reading just like him so they kill it on the literature round and also Reynie and him are just messing about
Reynie - Number Two: eh? No money is being on them winning but they’re not. Appalling
Reynie - Rhonda: fun! Rhonda knows it’s just a game and Reynie is just a kid who wants to enjoy himself.
Reynie - Milligan: slightly stilted but Milligan is freakily accurate at guessing. He gets a massive hug at the end too which makes him feel very safe (you may guess which he I’m talking about)
Reynie - Miss Perumal: oh, fantastic. She’s encouraging of him and even when they mess up they end up giggling about it
Sticky - Kate: Kate has pulled 17 new facial expressions at Sticky’s drawings and he is astounded by the way she keeps guessing bucket. Somehow still in 3rd
Sticky - Constance: oddly good. Constance can be patient with Sticky and she coaxes out that side of him that Needs To Win. All of the adults sort of skipped over mean!Sticky so their faces are priceless when Sticky tells them they can suck it because he’s the goddamn best
Sticky - Martina: average because neither of them are world’s best drawer or guesser but they can muddle by
Sticky - S.Q: great!!! Sticky has encyclopaedic knowledge and S.Q is a fantastic drawer! also terrible because S.Q doesn’t know what many basic things are and Sticky can’t draw for shit
Sticky - Jackson: cordial and calm, doing pretty alright. Two rather formal children with a pen it might feel a bit like a meeting between people trying to come up with new ideas for Pictionary rather than a game of Pictionary but they’re alright!
Sticky - Jillson: she is chasing him around the garden with a harpoon
Sticky - Mr Benedict: rather sweet, they’re failing miserably but at least they’re supporting each other all the way. To the bottom of the scoreboard though
Sticky - Number Two: competent but I feel like Number Two is not that great at Pictionary unless she’s teamed up with specific people
Sticky - Rhonda: let’s just enjoy ourselves :) maybe Sticky needs to give her a few hints though because optimism can only take them so far
Sticky - Milligan: even though Milligan is actually a really good guesser and drawer he takes the blame for every loss to make Sticky feel better because he thinks Sticky is very sweet
Sticky - Miss Perumal: weirdly this works. She knows what he’s trying to convey even if it’s just literal scribbly chaos and there’s even a chance of them doing well!
Kate - Constance: they are yelling violently at each other but if someone else dares insult one of them for being too bossy, prepare for their rage to be turned on you
Kate - Martina: banned from playing together. Pictionary should not be used as a vehicle for flirting and/or fighting about tetherball
Kate - S.Q: doing great!!! he’s amazing at drawing and she’s also pretty good too so they’re in with a high chance of winning
Kate - Jackson: weird dynamic. If she draws and he guesses, they’re doing good. Opposite way around and it’s not terrible but it is. Questionable
Kate - Jillson: two headstrong girls refusing to lose creates a team that is too busy arguing with each other to actually achieve anything. Luckily they admire the other person’s refusal to lose so they don’t stay mad at each other
Kate - Mr Benedict: her wild enthusiasm carries over to him and this is when you catch him actually getting competitive. Prepare to see the very minimal part of his nature that will remind you of his brother
Kate - Number Two: Kate has her head in her hands and Number Two at least has the decency to look a little ashamed
Kate - Rhonda: woooooooh girl power!!! c’mon let’s win this through the power of friendship (and end up in second still vibing)
Kate - Milligan: unified. He draws a line and she guesses it instantly. They’re the perfect father daughter team and he’s so proud of her that nobody can even be mad that they lost
Kate - Miss Perumal: okay! she’s very nice and Kate likes her so they get along well enough to achieve a good ranking
Constance - Martina: oh they understand each other. They’re above everyone else and they will win and they will rub it in S.Q’s face and then one of them will secretively give him a brownie slice if the jeering makes him feel bad
Constance - S.Q: oh she’s so pleased. She demands they win but because she cares about him (shut up) she will compliment all of his drawings in a veiled way. Of course she guessed it, she’s a genius and it’s also so obviously an airplane (translation: S.Q is very good at drawing and I believe in him)
Constance - Jackson: he’s afraid of her. However he will turn that fear into strength, mainly because that walking stick is way too close to Constance for his liking
Constance - Jillson: hell hath no fury like these two trying to win Pictionary. They will kill you and your mum and your dad and they are on the warpath. The only pairing so scary it makes S.Q draw appallingly
Constance - Mr Benedict: he can’t stop falling asleep when she insults him for being unable to guess accurately because he thinks she’s adorable and funny. He loves her so much and she’s secretly too happy about it to be mad
Constance - Number Two: who even knows what’s happening here? They sure don’t but whatever, Constance is willing to take the L, she wasn’t gonna win this one anyway
Constance - Rhonda: Constance has hidden respect for this woman. She will listen and pay serious attention to Rhonda while she is drawing and does her best to make it easy for her when it’s Rhonda’s turn to guess
Constance - Milligan: she’s still got insults left to give. Milligan is perhaps a little taken aback by the tiny child yelling at him but she’s a decent drawer so they’re getting along just fine (also she’s mean to anyone who is mean to him so he actually likes her)
Constance - Miss Perumal: you’d think Miss Perumal would be affronted by the rudeness but she actually just treats Constance with a lot of kindness in return. She apologises for getting things wrong, congratulates her for being a good drawer and so Constance is confused and actually. Stop working your magic on me you witch why am I so fond of you now
Martina - S.Q: hi bitchy S.Q we’ve missed you. They’re getting picky and irritated and being assholes to each other but they will win and they will totally high five when they do it. They have a victory song that Martina composed on a mandolin and it’s fifteen minutes long
Martina - Jackson: neither of them are afraid of the other. Will they use ‘I’M AN EXECUTIVE I’M BETTER THAN YOU!’ as a defence when they’re messing up? Yes. Is it completely useless? Also yes.
Martina - Jillson: you ever met two girls and seen them exchange a look and you know they just nonverbally said something bad about you but you’ve got no clue what it was? Now take that mean girl power and translate it into Pictionary. They’re gonna beat you so badly
Martina - Mr Benedict: something about the way that she’s so self assured and cocky makes him feel so happy that the cataplexy kicks in. He’s slid entirely off the sofa and when someone explains how that’s a good thing to Martina, she’s hiding a smile all night
Martina - Number Two: hand gestures and odd noises abound. Number Two can’t draw for shit but Martina refuses to give in so she will make them practice outside of game night so she can try understand what the hell Number Two is drawing
Martina - Rhonda: actually okay! not fantastic but Rhonda has such amazing vibes that Martina is learning to just relax and have fun
Martina - Milligan: he likes her. She’s occasionally mean and quite cocky, but she’s amiable to him and while she likely was at the start, she isn’t cruel or mocking towards him now. Yes he may be extremely tall and buff but the real matter at hand is if he can draw and thank god for the fact that he can
Martina - Miss Perumal: this child needs actual affection holy shit. C’mere Martina Miss Perumal will tell you that you’re funny and friendly instead of just smart. She ignores the actual game in favour of letting Martina feel cared for
S.Q - Jackson: terror from both of them but they think the other person has power. Jackson was told to leave the headmasters son alone and S.Q just thinks Jackson is scary so they’re playing a weird game of chicken where they both the chicken. Figure it out boys
S.Q - Jillson: when Jillson clocks that he’s a sweetheart she relaxes and then enters Oh We Will Win mode. S.Q is unnerved slightly but also it’s nice to be wanted with a borderline ‘I will be violent to other people if I don’t get him as my Pictionary partner’ intensity
S.Q - Mr Benedict: his nephew. Oh he loves him so much. Perfect boy, wonderful child. However this poses a slight problem because Benedict is talking too much about how amazing S.Q is and how much he loves him to actually guess what the object is. It’s okay though because they’re hugging by the end of it and that’s what matters
S.Q - Number Two: what is happening. Number Two can’t draw and S.Q has not seen most films or read most books or been beyond the island. He’s guessing bird 50% of the time
S.Q - Rhonda: oh they’re gonna win and Rhonda is on point with the positive reinforcement. Prepare to get a sweet chucked at you for every point you score S.Q
S.Q - Milligan: it’s odd because S.Q feels like he should be intimidated but he just feels safe. They’re doing very well together and it’s sweet to see the way that S.Q tentatively smiles when they do well and has the smile softly returned
S.Q - Miss Perumal: oh you want a mother? You want a mum? You want a brand new mum? What’s Pictionary do you need adoption papers? I can be your parent S.Q just sign here I love you
Jackson - Jillson: creepy twins out of the Shining x1000. Constance is not the only telepathic weirdo here. However if they hit a low streak they will start yelling at each other like little children
Jackson - Mr Benedict: uh. An adult being sincerely nice? Oh, yeah it’s fine. He’s fine. It’s cool. Does anyone have a tissue? also they’re doing decently, even if it’s hard for Jackson to see through happy tears
Jackson - Number Two: why are you both yelling at each other. None of this makes sense you’re not even being comprehensible anymore someone take the pen away from them
Jackson - Rhonda: good! Not much different to average people playing Pictionary it’s nice to watch
Jackson - Milligan: this man is TERRIYING. Jackson is afraid of him to the point where he kinda just stays weirdly quiet during rounds. Everyone is just waiting for him to realise that Milligan is an angel (when he does, they’re going to be a surprise powerhouse)
Jackson - Miss Perumal: she’s nice to him and it makes him wanna do well. Even when they do badly she’s still friendly to him and it’s good vibes all arounf
Jillson - Mr Benedict: this girl is insane. And he has a habit for thinking mean teenage girls are intensely funny so he’s not conscious almost every time she’s doing the guessing. On her end she’s just completely thrown by the Curtain clone thinking that she’s funny (…he really thinks that? Oh. That’s… fantastic, actually)
Jillson - Number Two: this works. The freaky teenager and the woman that she will one day be like are on the same wavelength so they’re actually guessing each other’s horrible drawings correctly. They’re so goddamn weird and yet winning. How the hell are they winning
Jillson - Rhonda: Why are you being nice? Stop It Now. No stop being friendly and kind and amusing. Shut up. (no don’t actually shut up you seem like the kind of person I wanna hang out with with)
Jillson - Milligan: this man is a social oddity. However she has spent more time on the Milligan Boat than necessary so she is starting to comprehend him. They’ll do fine
Jillson - Miss Perumal: okay Jillson is maybe one of the few people Miss Perumal just doesn’t get. But when she’s punched in the arm by Martina and told to be nice, they can actually get along fine and do quite well
Mr Benedict - Number Two: this is deranged. Perfection and insanity in one combination. They’re winning and Benedict has passed out but the answer was narcolepsy and technically that counts as correct. Everyone is losing their minds watching this occur
Mr Benedict - Rhonda: yeahhhhhh it’s time for two people who can’t stop giggling at each other. Everything is so funny to them and their positivity is infectious. Everyone can have been having the worst day of their lives but if game night rolls around and these two are a team? You’ll be happy by the end of it
Mr Benedict - Milligan: assured and calm. They know each other very well but their communication is a bit strange. Expect longggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg pauses and extended direct eye contact. It’s… really something however they’ll do well
Mr Benedict - Miss Perumal: the vibes are good with this one. For a man who often supports other, he’s a little thrown and very appreciative to have someone who treats him like he needs the support. She’s very kind to him.
Number Two - Rhonda: mainly Rhonda politely going ‘hmmmmmm. well. maybe…’ to make up for the fact that what Number Two is drawing is nonsense. Very ‘two sisters being unable to communicate and fighting about it’ until they inevitably reconcile
Number Two - Milligan: vibes. Doing well and nodding a lot at each other. He has very poetic ways of describing her awful drawings
Number Two - Miss Perumal: somebody try save Miss Perumal because none of this makes sense. No seriously is she dreaming did she eat cheese before bed
Rhonda - Milligan: actually they can both draw and they’re buddies. So it’s going pretty good and also they share Looks that have secret meaning so have fun figuring those out
Rhonda - Miss Perumal: if they are cheating via sign language that is none of your business. Stop reporting them for it you’re all so annoying god bless <3
Milligan - Miss Perumal: she’s a bit unnerved and then she gets to know him. Pretty good they connect over parenting and they can both draw so. Bisexual rights!
#tmbs#the mysterious benedict society#I put a stupid amount of time into this so sorry for any mistakes I may have skipped over#this is what I do I devote time to ridiculous things that nobody cares about in the new fandom I’m crazy about lmao and I love it about me#my sticky answers weren’t good enough I updated them because sticky deserves more. love him he’s my boy
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐌
( ~ Kakashi Hatake x Gender Neutral Reader Insert ~ )
GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff! Oneshot!
FANDOM: Naruto: Shippuden
TRIGGER WARNINGS: This is a continuation oneshot from the headcanon I posted earlier! There is very fluffy smut, there’s really nothing too hardcore in this one either, however it’s still worth noting. This also gives me CGL vibes, but idk if that’s just me.
SUMMARY: Kakashi worships Reader-Chan’s body as apart of aftercare and this time he adds a little bit of spice to it. Also, you don’t NEED to read the headcanon in order to understand, but as it’s a continuation, it’s a suggested read. Find it here.
WORD COUNT: 2031
IF you’d like to make requests for this fandom, check out the Naruto Masterlist and if you’d like to make a request for ANOTHER fandom, check the Navigation Tab on my page! (both have been hyperlinked). I don’t have a rules page yet, however I will soon, so stay tuned for that. Just ask or DM me your request and I’ll get on it for you ^^
(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)
Generally, he didn’t think there was anything sexual about worshipping your body, especially in place of aftercare. Even though he wasn’t so rough that you necessarily NEEDED aftercare, and even after you insisted that you didn’t need it, he always insisted that he gave you those cuddles and massages after he made you cum. However, he didn’t know the effect of his touches on your body, especially massaging into you in your aftercare sessions.
It usually started when he massaged lotion into your knuckles, but he didn’t need to know that. When he had his hips pressed into you from behind like that, when you could feel his print start to harden a little before he got to his favorite part of caring for your delicate body. Occasionally, you’d feel those eyes of his roaming over your back that was oh so perfect to him, the way your skin was just perfect for your body with just a couple of scars riding the back of your shoulders or maybe down your shoulder blades. The way your spine sat right where it was supposed to, just HOW it was supposed to sit. The way that the bones of your ribs and your spine created pretty little hills and valleys in your skin for his fingers to fill and run over. He didn’t know how sensitive your body got after he made you orgasm, and that wasn’t necessarily on him; you climax hard naturally, however with him? He just makes you feel a million times higher and more intense with each orgasm he’s able to coax out of you, especially as he was feeding you those praises that you needed from him.
Kakashi gently rose your hips and massaged into them with his nimble fingers using the remaining lotion on his hands to do so. You knew what time it was, but you didn’t completely realize it as you were so deep in your world of cartoons that you didn’t care what was happening around you. You just knew that you were there with your sir and he’d protect you at all costs. You feel a soft chill over your back and then the warmth of his strong arms around your waist, then his soft breath against your skin, right above your ass before you feel his lips following suit, gently kissing the area where your pants’s upper hem would lay. You move your hips a little and whine softly and he just coos to you a quiet hushing noise, his fingers following the trail of his lips with a comfortable pressure. You let out a shaky breath that you thought he ignored, but he didn’t taking note of it as he continued. He continued to dust those sweet kisses over your skin, his teeth gently grazing against your spine, his whole hand now pressed into your skin as it follows his lips, his bony, soft, slender hand gently filling into every single dip of your body, each touch making your body pulse with a want for him that was practically insatiable. You bury your head into the bed and feed the mattresses your moans and groans just quiet enough for Kakashi to just barely catch them.
He hummed softly and he sucked light hickeys into your back, that wandering hand now against your naked side riding over your ribs unbearably slow, then down over your abdomen, then up to gently grope your chest, all while he’s groaning softly and making his way up your sensitive body. His kisses land everywhere, over your spine, in between each and every bone, over every inch and strip of your back. You stretch yourself out some and prepare yourself for how he’s going to handle your upper back, but before you could completely think about it, you’d came again. Your breathing had quickened without either of you noticing, your nails digging into the bed as your body began to tremble, and then you jolted your hips a little and came right on the covers under you, and a little got on his pants, with a soft whine that you muffled into the bed so that he couldn’t hear you. He was moving slow- TOO slow. You wanted him again but you knew that he more than likely wouldn’t be open to it since he was participating in aftercare now.
Your mind, that should’ve been focused on the cartoons that were playing in front of you, was now wandering fast into dangerous territory. You were practically drooling out the melted chocolate that was in your mouth as you felt his hands once again kneading into your skin but your mind had imagined his hands in other places than just your back. You imagined how he would feel slowly grinding into you, slowly but with the same pressure that his hands gifted you with while he massaged lotion into your back, or how he’d feel with his fingers tangled in your hair, gently pulling your head back as he started to kiss and suck on your neck. Just the mere thought had your body craving more, so much so to the point that you began to whine and moan out quietly, trying to suck on your own fingers how you’d suck on his. You were brought back by feeling that he’d stopped. Aftercare over? Already? No… If that were the case he’d be cuddling you by now, but he wasn’t. He was still practically straddling your ass while you’d pushed your hips up to grind into him. While you were clad in his sweater, you had absolutely nothing else on and your hoodie was pushed up to show your body to him. You also heard his soft moans and groans that spilled from him and practically melted in your ears. They were deep, but still airy and chesty and there it was, his bulge brushing up against your ass as you grinded into him.
You heard his belt buckle becoming undone and you practically had to cover your mouth with the squeal you were holding back. One of his gentle hands rode up your sides again but this time with a much more obviously sensuous meaning behind it, the other hand rested right next to you so that he could hold himself up. One second he was positioning himself, the next his lips were next to your ear softly commanding you to raise your hips and spread your legs for him, which you abided immediately. He gently and slowly slid himself inside of you, a deep, sensual groan leaving him as he rested his head against yours, that muscular hand of his steadily groping at your chest as he bottomed out inside of you which caused you to whimper and whine, bucking your hips to get more friction.
“Blossom- H-Hold your hips still…” he commands in a soft, breathy whisper as he tries to compose himself. “T-This is g-going to be apart of aftercare t-today okay?” He managed to say in between his pants and swallows. “Y-You’ve done so good for me today, this I-is the least I could do,” he says quietly as he slowly starts to move his hips, slowly and gently sliding himself almost all the way out before he pushes himself back balls deep inside of you eliciting a long, drawn out moan on your end. He takes in all of your noises and he stays quiet for the most part, loving how he had the power to make you feel good while you made him feel good too. Though his thrusts were slow, they carried power to them, grinding you into the bed with every thrust forward, pulling you back into him every time he went back. The best part about it was his head rested against yours, his clothed chest rested against your naked back, all of his pants and moans melting out of his mouth and flowing right into your ear. One of his hands moved to your hip and he pulled you back into him with every hard thrust, trying to reach as deep inside of you as he could. Your body felt electric and hot like at any second you could break right under him, and him nipping at your ear as he pulled you into him and let out all of his sweet moans wasn’t helping you at all.
“C-Cum,” you mumble out softly, and you practically cum when he murmurs that soft “hm?” In your ear for clarification.
“Are you trying to ask me if you can cum?” He breathed quietly in your ear as he sped up and thrusted himself harder into you. “G-Go ahead, B-Blossom,” he said softly before he pushed your head down and kissed and nibbled into the nape of your neck causing your body to quiver more noticeably underneath him. He also grabbed your hand gently and locked his fingers with yours, and because of all of the different sensations, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You clenched tight around him causing his soft whines to hitch in his throat and get a little louder as you came. Your hips trembled and he bit into your neck a little more as you moan and whine out his name. His breathing was stalled and shaky, his lips gently pressed into the nape of your neck, not necessarily kissing you but still wanting to be connected. “P-Please just take a little more for me, okay? I’m so close Blossom,” he said softly as he slowly started to pound into you again. As he got closer you could feel it, the smooth movements of his hips pushing and pulling into you now choppy movements as he became more sloppy, how you felt his abs tighten against you and then relax, and those shaky breaths that he continued to push into the skin of your neck before finally he pulled you into him and filled you up with his soft strained grunts, pants, whimpers, and moans. He wasn’t a very loud person, and because of such, he didn’t climax loud either, but with how close he was, you took up every noise that you could, and today he was just a little louder too. After a couple of moments while he rode out his high, he moved a little to hug you, gently nipping at your ear again. His breathing was still uneven and it made you tingle a little hearing how unraveled he was but also how composed he was too.
“C-Can I s-stay inside Blossom? I-It just feels good… I d-don’t want to pull out yet,” he said softly for the first time as he kissed your shoulder. Your face and neck immediately burst in a shade of pretty red and you nod slowly.
“Please d-don’t pull out Sir,” you say quietly as you start to relax and you eat one of the small chocolates as his thumbs trace circles into your sides.
“It’s okay if you go to sleep,” he said quietly as he continued to feed your skin soft kisses and he dusted your shoulder and neck with light hickeys. “Dinner will be ready for you when you wake up,” he said softly as he let out a deep breath and nuzzled into you comfortably. He used his legs to take his pants off completely and he kicked them off of the bed before draping one of the covers over the two of you while you cockwarmed him. You felt sleepy but didn’t want this moment to end so you whined quietly and started to squirm a little.
“Relax, Blossom,” he said softly as his slender fingers continued to massage into your sides. “I’m not leaving… I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. You relax, just like he tells you and fight dozing off while watching your cartoons. Your eyelids started to feel heavy and the pressure of having Kakashi on top of you and inside of you relaxed you quite a lot and he kissed the side of your head gently.
“I love you so much,” he said quietly, softly humming into your ear and continuing to lull you to sleep while your mind was completely submitted to him in subspace.
#naruto shippuden#kakashi hatake#kakashi sensei#kakashi x reader#kakashi smut#kakashi hatake lemon#naruto shippuden x reader#kakashi headcanons#kakashi oneshots#kakashi x you#kakashi x y/n#cgl fic
128 notes
·
View notes
Note
You mentioned true sight in a post I recently read. Can you go into a little more detail about that, and maybe provide some resources for further learning?
I can try!
“The Sight,” aka “true sight,” “true vision,” “fairy sight,” and a whole bunch of other names, is a collective term for what nowadays people refer to as psychic perception, though there’s more to it than that.
For one thing, it’s not just about psychic ability, and it’s not even just about vision, it’s not even really about any of the senses at all. It’s called “sight” because the most flamboyant expressions of it have always centered around visions. Humans are a forward-visual species, and our acute senses are ordinarily visual, so I presume that’s part of it.
Anyway, the difference with true sight and “psychic ability” is, a psychic’s abilities are reactive and passive, they use themselves. A psychic generally has to learn to tune and filter those abilities, to allow herself the ability to function in the day-to-day. Mystics and oracles historically possessed abilities of this nature, often having to retreat from everyday life in order to stay sane (and often they didn’t).
Witches, on the other hand, have an active ability to discern truths. When we listen to someone speaking, we can tell if what they’re saying is “true.” Meaning, we know when someone is lying. That’s generally one of the first manifestations of true sight.
There are other aspects as well- the ability to see magic, for example. A witch who chooses to pay attention can tell when someone is under a glamour, or if there is a dweomer (an active aura) around a place or object. We can even notice threads of fate or time or other esoterica. For example, in the case of listening to someone and knowing whether they’re telling the truth or not, sometimes what we sense isn’t about their honesty. Sometimes we can hear someone say “I’m going to Coachella this year!” and know that no, that isn’t going to happen. They may believe it will, but we just know it won’t happen.
Finally, a major reason why this ability is called “fairy sight” in places like Ireland, is because it allows us to discern the presence of otherworldly beings like ghosts, gods, and (you guessed it) the Good Neighbors.
The trick to using true sight is, you have to want to use it. You can’t just expect things to announce themselves (though they sometimes will). You have to tune in, attend to your environment and look closely. It’s not a passive ability at first.
A psychic might sense a ghost just by entering a building, whereas a witch would have to be asking in her mind, “is there an otherworldly power in this space?” Whereupon she would observe, look in “likely” places (shadows, thresholds, hallways, bedrooms, etc) for signs of that presence. Her instincts would kick in, and she’d start to be able to tell certain things.
Can one be a psychic and a witch? Yep, that’s common actually. Many psychics tap into magical currents and learn magic to survive their abilities, building shields and wards to keep out otherworldly presences. Many witches learn to use their true sight so well that they tap into the currents which provide psychic awareness, and become passively aware of what they used to actively need to discern.
Anyway, that’s what I know about true sight. There are a lot of resources you could look for to help you develop either psychic ability or your own true sight, but the easiest way to develop true sight is simply to “look closer” at a subject, with a question in mind- “what’s really going on with that person/object/place?”
As with all perceptive abilities, physical proximity helps. Touch what you’re trying to read, and pay attention to your sensations. A fun experiment between two or more students of this arte is to have them sit across from each other, with one designated “the reader” and the other “the subject.” The reader will compose herself, and then lay her hands out palms up, as a sign that she’s ready to read. Then the subject will place her hands in the reader’s hands when she’s ready to be read. The reader will seek for impressions through that contact, discerning truths about the subject. The subject will focus on what it “feels” like to be read, and otherwise will simply attend to their mental laundry list about the day.
In this way, witches can learn not only how to read people and objects, they can learn how to tell when they’re being read, and thereby develop a passive awareness of magic being used, which is helpful in our line of work.
For a reference, I’ll recommend Peter Paddon’s video “The Sight: Getting It, Using It, and Dealing With It” as an interesting take on the subject. Any older references on “clairvoyance” will also be handy. There’s a lot of material on developing psychic ability out there, and of course I suggest people read everything and experiment. References on true sight itself can be a bit sketchy, as it appears (to me at least) that there aren’t a lot of witches out there who can tell the difference between the Sight and psychic ability, and the most vocal of us writing about the use of psychic perception in one’s Craft are witches who seem to possess both the passive and active faculties, seemingly unaware that there are any distinctions to be made. *shrugs*
Anyway, good luck in your studies! I hope this answered what you were looking for!
36 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could I maybe suggest a prompt? It’s fine if not! Just I’ve seen a lot of fics (like 3 honestly) where Geralt and Jaskier are cursed to stay close to each other lest one or both are in unimaginable pain. That but they go visit Yennefer and find out the only way is to spend like an hour apart from on another, just major angst, like they’re both claimed to opposite sides of the room suffering and watching the other in pain :o Thanks!
oh my goodness I LOVE this.
So this got quite long but I hope it does the prompt justice! I've also posted it on ao3 so you can read it there too!
"Let me check," Jaskier chirped and before Geralt could stop him, the Bard stuck his head up from the over-turned table they were crouched behind.
The Witcher grabbed a fistful of his doublet and yanked him back down.
"Yeah, I have assessed the situation and it's eh, not good," Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck.
"What part of a rampaging Mage did you think would be good?" Geralt growled, brow set in a deep scowl.
Jaskier shrugged, the slight quiver in his jaw muscles betraying his fear at their current predicament.
This wasn't how his day was supposed to go. When they had arrived in the small town, the townsfolk had asked him to deal with a Mage who, quote, "is a little bit intense and kind of creepy." Geralt had rolled his eyes and almost ignored the request but Jaskier had insisted they check it out, even if it came to nothing.
Geralt knew that the Bard was hoping to spend the night in the town rather than sleeping rough under the stars again for the fifth night in a row. Investigating the Mage would waste the time until nightfall and then they would have to stay in the tavern. Geralt had decided to indulge Jaskier. He had to admit, a straw mattress and scratchy sheets did sound like a nice change from roots sticking into your back and the cold that crept in with the dark.
They had found the Mage's tower easily enough. It stood on the outskirts of the town. Five storeys high, slate roof, thin windows, moss covered brickwork. Nestled amongst tall growing brambles and gorse.
Geralt had intended to have a nice, calm conversation with the Mage, sort out whatever miss understanding had happened between them and the townsfolk then head back to the tavern for ale and a warm dinner.
That's how it was supposed to go.
Unfortunately for Geralt, the Mage seemed a little unhinged and was babbling on about the properties of a certain mushroom he had found by the river. The Witcher recognised it immediately as a Dracus Soria or, in the common tongue, Dragons Breath.
The mushroom was small, perfectly round and a violent red colour. The gills underneath the cap were orange and the stalk a mustardy yellow. If ingested it burned down the gullet and practically melted the person from the inside out. There was the odd rumour that if treated correctly, the mushroom could cure all manner of aliments, but everyone who had tried had died horribly.
Geralt tried explaining this to the Mage but his warnings fell on deaf ears. When the Mage had wanted to feed his latest batch of findings to Jaskier, Geralt had put himself between him and the Bard with a menacing expression on his face that even a Mage would think twice before challenging him.
Unfortunately for Geralt, the Mage had blasted him aside with a powerful spell and then when Jaskier ran from him, decided to eat the mushroom himself.
Now the Mage was dancing about his workshop in agonising pain, firing off spells and incantations in all directions, as he was driven mad by the mushroom’s effects.
Geralt risked a peek around the side of the table they were using as a shield but quickly drew back again as a white jet of sparks narrowly missed his face.
He had two options. The first, wait the Mage out and let the mushroom kill him but at risk of his and Jaskier's probable deaths. The second, go and kill the Mage himself.
He grunted, gritting his teeth together, amber glare on the Bard as he tried to form the best strategy.
"This isn't my fault," Jaskier huffed indignantly, guessing what the Witcher was thinking, "How was I supposed to know that this guy was batshit crazy."
Geralt ignored him, trying to tune his hearing onto the Mage to work out where he was. The sound of Jaskier's slightly sharp breathing, the pattering of his heart. The screaming of the Mage as he was burned from the inside. The crackle of magic whizzing through the air. The smashing of glass as vials and beakers were thrown about the room. The heavy shuffling of footsteps, directly on the other side of the table.
"Jaskier, when I say, push the table as hard as you can," he blinked at the Bard.
Jaskier nodded, placing his palms against the solid wood, a focus coming over him that was usually reserved for his composing.
Geralt got in position, listening as the Mage hoped from foot to foot.
"Now!" he growled and slammed his hands into the table as hard as he could.
The table shunted forward with enough force to crash into the Mage and send him sprawling to the floor. Geralt sprang up from his crouching position, blade in hand, ready to strike the convulsing Mage before he did any more damage.
"Geralt!" Jaskier's warning came too late and a hot stream of magic hit Geralt square in the chest and threw him back against the wall.
He brushed off the frantic hands that were trying to roll him over and pushed himself gingerly to all fours.
Jaskier's blue eyes were wide with shock, his hands trembling slightly as they hovered over Geralt, ready to catch him if he collapsed.
Geralt sucked in a long breath. No broken bones as far as he could tell, and there were no obvious effects from the spell that hit him, so he decided that he was probably okay.
As he hauled himself to his feet, the room suddenly went quiet. The Mage spluttered one last breath before his twitching limbs finally stilled.
"Well that was a laugh," Jaskier said shakily, "Do you think the people will still pay us, even though he kind of offed himself?"
"Hm," was the only response he got from the Witcher.
Geralt sheathed his sword again and cracked his knuckles. He glanced at the Bard with a warmth that had Jaskier smiling.
"Come on Bard," he stepped towards the door, "I need a drink."
As he went to pass through the doorway a sharp pain spiked through him, coming from deep in his core. It burned through his nerves and tensed up his limbs. At the same time, he heard Jaskier gasp. The Bard dropped to his knees, clutching his gut, face contorted in pain.
Geralt stumbled back, light pulsing behind his eyes, and as he grabbed the table for support, the pain ebbed. He snapped his attention to the Bard who seemed to be okay again, breathing hard, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
"What-what was that?" Jaskier panted.
Geralt glanced at the dead Mage then sucked in a breath. He moved towards the door again and the same pain punched though him. Jaskier cried out, bent double so that his forehead was pressed against the flagstone.
The Witcher quickly stepped back again, and again the pain faded. He looked to the Bard who was shaking, then back at the Mage. Panic set in as he realised what was going on.
He made for the door again, wanting to be sure but halted abruptly as Jaskier wailed, "Geralt no, please."
"Fuck," Geralt growled.
***
Travel was difficult. Very difficult.
They couldn't be apart more than a metre without being crippled by excruciating pain. Whatever curse the Mage had hit Geralt with was strong and he knew that they would need a Mage's help to undo it.
The night before when they had made camp and fallen into their usual routines, they kept forgetting that they were restricted by distance and had struggled to remain calm with each other as they tried to avoid hurting each other. They had set up their bedrolls and fallen asleep in each other's arms but when Jaskier had rolled away in his sleep they were both woken by a jolt of agony that forced the breath from their lungs. Geralt had bundled Jaskier to him, wrapping him in his strong arms again to keep him close. After pressing a gentle kiss to Jaskier's temple and tucking the Bard tight to his chest, they had both finally drifted off again.
Geralt was a Witcher. He had a much higher pain threshold than most and even though each stab of pain was unbearable, he was definitely holding up better than Jaskier. He couldn't even imagine what this was like for the Bard. It must be like being ripped apart again and again and again. And Geralt didn't know what was worse. Watching Jaskier suffer or being helpless to stop it.
Jaskier was pale, the stench of fear tainting his usual flowery scent. Each time they accidentally moved too far away from each other, the pain brought the Bard to his knees, and he seemed to get weaker with each bout.
Their usual dynamic of Geralt astride his mare with Jaskier keeping pace beside was absolutely out of the question.
Jaskier was very quiet as he sat behind Geralt on Roach. His uncharacteristic silence unnerved Geralt. Worry fluttered in his gut.
"We are going to see Yennefer," the Witcher rumbled, "if anyone knows how to lift this curse, it's her."
"How long?" Jaskier's voice sounded raw.
"Hm?"
"How long until we reach her?" Jaskier shuffled slightly.
"About four days, as the crow flies," Geralt chewed his lower lip.
Jaskier didn't respond. He just let his head rest on Geralt's back, swaying with the motions of the horse underneath him.
"We're going to be okay," Geralt said after a stretch of quiet, "you hear me?"
Jaskier nodded weakly, keeping his face pressed against Geralt.
The days passed excruciatingly slowly.
They tried to be very careful with how much distance was between them, sticking as close together as they possibly could. After a day went by without any pain, Jaskier perked up a bit, even humming softly as Roach took them through winding farmland and dense forests.
But then they were attacked by bandits.
Geralt heard them a second before they attacked and barely had time to rip his sword from its sheath as they descended. There were only four of them. Easy game for a Witcher, except-
Except he couldn't leave Jaskier's side and that put them both in very real danger.
Still astride Roach, Geralt swung at them as best he could but it was awkward, sluggish, and he was pulled from Roach and slammed heavily to the ground.
Jaskier's scream ripped through the air as pain clamped Geralt to the spot. The Bard fell from the horse and was writhing about on the ground, screaming in agony.
This was the furthest apart they had been since being cursed and it felt like someone was pushing hot pokers into every part of Geralt's body. His vision flashed white, his ears rang. He couldn't breath.
The bandits froze in shock, not quite sure what was happening but quickly realising that the Witcher and the Bard weren't able to defend themselves. They approached with confidence; blades held up ready to take an easy prize.
By some miracle, Geralt was able to lift his hand and cast Aard at the bandits. The telekinetic wave sent them flying. One bounced off a tree, the sound of his spine cracking drowned out by Jaskier. Another tumbled headfirst into a patch of thorns, yelping and clawing to get free. The third and fourth were lucky and were just thrown a ways down the road. They grabbed the one stuck with thorns and beat a hasty retreat.
Geralt crawled towards Jaskier. The pain slowly fading to a dull ache the closer he got until it finally stopped altogether. His skin prickling uncomfortably, he reached out to the Bard.
Jaskier's breath sobbed in his chest, tears streamed down his cheeks, and he was shuddering violently. Curled up on his side with his hands digging into the earth.
"Jaskier," Geralt rasped, placing a gentle hand on the Bard's shoulder.
Jaskier tensed under his touch but eventually slumped into the ground as Geralt stroked his arm soothingly.
The echoes of pain still rippling through his body, Geralt managed to get Jaskier to sit up and he pulled the Bard into his lap. He buried his nose in Jaskier's hair, arms cocooning him in warmth, and listened as Jaskier's breathing slowly evened out and the rabbit-quick thundering of his heart started to return to normal.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "Jask, I'm so sorry."
"What are you sorry for? It's not your fault," Jaskier sounded tired. No, more like exhausted.
Geralt felt the same weariness in his bones and he didn't know if had the strength to stand yet, so he stayed sat on the ground, cradling Jaskier, hating how there was nothing he could do to make this better.
On the evening of the fourth day they came to a bustling city. The streets were still full of vendors trying to sell their wares and the noise of a chattering crowd reached them before they even got to the city gates set into defensive walls.
The guards let them through with a nod and Geralt guided Roach carefully through the mob of people going about their daily lives.
The smell of baking bread and brewing ale, churned up mud, and horse, incense and salted fish hit them in a heavy wave as they navigated the busy streets. They passed through the wooden houses of the suburbs and then the cobbled stone of the city centre.
Geralt hopped off Roach and helped Jaskier down. He brought her to a sheltered lean-to where several other horses were tethered and paid the horse master to look after her until they came back for her.
"Why is Yennefer here?" Jaskier asked, looking around him at the surroundings, "this isn't the kind of place she is usually attracted to."
Geralt laced his fingers with Jaskier's and brushed his lips against his knuckles.
"She had an opportunity to get information from a councilman or something. She's using his townhouse for her work," he grunted.
Hands still twined together, Geralt spoke quickly to a merchant then pulled Jaskier with him as he searched out the townhouse.
They were buffeted on all sides as they manoeuvred through the packed streets, clinging desperately to each other to avoid being separated.
Geralt halted by a grand looking house with a pillared entrance and slatted shutters over the windows. A plume of leafy plants grew in ceramic pots either side of the front door, a spray of green against the grey marble. Geralt knocked.
The oak door creaked as it swung open and Geralt led Jaskier inside. The door shut deftly behind them and the overpowering smell of sage and lavender chased away the scents of the street.
They were standing in a small entrance hall with a staircase ahead of them and a door on the left and right.
Geralt wrinkled his nose as a new scent hit him. Lilac and gooseberries.
"Well, well, well," a female drawl sounded from the top of the stairs, "and I was beginning to think that this evening would be boring."
"Yennefer," Geralt dipped his head to her.
The Mage descended the staircase with such elegance it looked as if she were floating. She was dressed in a black and white dress and her raven black hair tumbled about her shoulders in soft waves. Her violet eyes sparkled in the light from the torches bracketed to the walls.
"I would say that it's good to see you but you usually only come to me when you are in trouble," she smirked, gliding past and inviting them to follow her through the door on the left, "So, what's happened this time?"
The drawing room she brought them into was vast and airy, embellished with sculptures and art dotted along the panelled walls.
"A curse," Geralt let his amber eyes flit about the room before resting on the Mage as she poured herself a glass of dark amber liquid from a decanter.
"Must be serious," she quirked an eyebrow at him, "the Bard hasn't said a word since coming through the door."
If Jaskier wasn't dead on his feet, he would have flushed. Instead, he looked at his boots miserably.
"It's bad Yen," Geralt's voice was tight. He knew what she was going to ask before the words fell from her mouth.
"Let me see," she tilted her head slightly.
Jaskier's head shot up, blue eyes wide.
"Geralt no, please," his voice broke on the last word and Geralt felt his heart shatter.
"To know what I'm working with, I have to see it," Yennefer swirled the contents of her glass absently.
"Just quick Jask, we'll do it quick," Geralt tried as Jaskier shook his head frantically.
Geralt caught the look in the Mage's eyes and gritted his teeth. Guilt flashed through him.
"I'm sorry," he took a few long strides from Jaskier then buckled with pain. the noise that escaped Jaskier was heart-wrenching but before he could crumple to the ground, Geralt was back by his side and pulling him into a hug.
Yennefer was quiet for a long time and the Witcher felt his unease grow with each silent second.
"Is... is there a way to-" he started after he couldn't bare it any longer.
"To break it? Yes. But you're not going to like it," she sighed and put her glass down on a side table.
Jaskier balked at her words, clinging to Geralt desperately, trying to draw comfort from him.
"To break this curse, you have to force yourselves to stay separated in the same room as each other for an hour," Yennefer bit her lower lip.
"What?" Jaskier sounded so broken and scared. Geralt's gut twisted painfully.
"It is the only way. One hour of excruciating pain and then free, of the rest of your lives never being able to leave each other's sides," she blinked slowly.
"There must be something else. Some other way," Geralt growled.
"You could always kill yourself," Yennefer curled her lip.
"Fuck," Geralt grunted.
The Witcher looked at the Bard. Jaskier's eyes were swimming with unshed tears and Geralt's heart panged in his chest. He brushed the pad of his thumb down Jaskier's cheek and the Bard leaned into his touch.
He hated this. He hated this with everything that he had. But he knew what they had to do. He couldn't spend the rest of his life tethered to Jaskier. Not like this. The idea of spending the rest of his life with the Bard was something the thought about a lot and it filled him with warmth and excitement but, what bound them together right now was dangerous and, if he was being selfish, impractical. He wouldn't be able to hunt monsters and Jaskier wouldn't be able to perform for the masses. They would just keep getting in each other's way and besides, separation in a relationship is healthy. But the thought of spending an hour in that amount of pain made him sick to the stomach. Not just that. Having to see Jaskier spending an hour in that amount of pain would probably break him. But he knew what they had to do.
"Jaskier," he said softly.
"I know Geralt. I know," the Bard choked.
Geralt pressed his lips to Jaskier's and Jaskier melted into his mouth. Geralt rested his forehead against the Bards, keeping him close, breathing the same hot air.
"I love you," he mumbled.
"I love you too," Jaskier's voice was barely a whisper.
Geralt set his face in a determined expression then looked at the Mage.
"So how do we do this?" he growled.
Yennefer looked about her, "in here is fine. You just have to go as far away from each other as possible then stay there. It's uh, up to you if you distance slowly or just... go for it."
Jaskier paled, fear crossing his young face.
Geralt swallowed thickly.
"Maybe slowly is better?" he glanced at Jaskier, "get used to the pain then push it further, get used to it then further?"
That made sense but Jaskier was still hesitant to agree to anything.
"The hour doesn't start until you are fully separated. So going slower increases the amount of time you're in pain," Yennefer swelled with sympathy.
Seeing the Bard and the Witcher so scared and vulnerable brought a very strange feeling to her chest and she tried to push it away.
"Quick then," Geralt rubbed his face with his hands, "fuck! I don't know."
Jaskier placed a trembling hand on his arm.
"Quick. Get it over with," he sounded sure.
Geralt nodded. His usually slow heart was thumping frantically in his chest.
They spent the next few minutes discussing how they were going to do it. It was agreed that Jaskier wouldn't make it to his side of the room by himself and Geralt was faster anyway. They decided that they were both going to stand at the far wall, then Geralt was going to sprint to the opposite wall. He was fairly sure he could keep it together long enough to reach it.
They stood side by side, breathing heavily, holding hands, building their courage.
Yennefer had assured them she would be on hand if anything went wrong and she perched herself on the side table, taking long drinks of the amber liquid in the glass.
"Okay, after three," Geralt glanced at Jaskier who nodded. He reluctantly let go of Jaskier's hand, a torrent of emotions swirling inside him.
Jaskier pressed himself hard against the wall.
"One," said Geralt, voice tight, settling in a stance to start running, "Two..."
On three he launched himself away from the wall. Jaskier's scream harmonised with his own and pain lanced through him, growing in intensity as he forced his legs to carry him. He threw himself at his destination, crumpling awkwardly on the landing and gritted his teeth together as wave after wave tore through him.
It was unlike anything he had every felt before. The edges of his vision kept going dark. The dryness of his mouth quickly choking him as he growled. His muscles spasmed and ached. Sharp pain kept spiking through his organs. He willed himself to pass out, but the black wouldn't come.
He forced himself to look at Jaskier.
The Bard was in a heap on the floor, his whole body contorting and convulsing, the scream pulled from him only stopping when he had to take a breath.
Yennefer wasn't looking at either of them. She was very close to covering her ears with her hands to block out the noise. But she didn't. They needed to see her strong. If she wilted, what hope did either of them have?
As the minutes crawled past, Geralt kept waiting for his body to go numb, to get used to the pain and filter it out like background noise. But it just kept coming, finding new ways to hurt him in places he didn't know even existed.
Jaskier had stopped screaming but only because he physically couldn't anymore.
The half-hour mark was signalled by Yennefer and Jaskier let out a long, distressed noise that broke Geralt's heart.
"I can't," he sobbed, "I can't do this. Please. Please don't make me do this. Please."
"Just hang on Jaskier," Yennefer was crouched over him, brushing his sweat soaked hair out of his eyes.
"Please," he wailed, "make it stop. Please. G-Geralt."
Geralt had to look away from him. He knew that if he caught those blue eyes he would break and abandon his wall to crawl to Jaskier's side. They were so close now. So close.
The Witcher sucked in sharp, shallow breaths as he clenched his jaw so hard, he was pretty sure he heard a tooth crack.
And then finally, finally after what seemed like an eternity, the pain was gone.
Geralt howled with relief. His body felt strangely light. Slowly testing each limb, he pushed himself up off the floor and leaned against the wall.
Then he saw Jaskier and he wanted to scream even though he knew he couldn't.
The Bard was on his side, eyes glazed over, tears streaming down his face, his whole body shuddering with each shallow breath. Yennefer was by his head, muttering soothing words and light incantations to bring him back round.
Not trusting his legs to support him, Geralt used a chair to pull himself up then cautiously made his way over to Jaskier and Yennefer. He collapsed by her side and reached for his Bard.
"Jaskier," Geralt shook him gently.
"I'm not sure he can hear you," the Mage's voice sounded tight.
"What do you mean?" fear and panic tainted his tone.
"He's retreated so far back into himself I'm struggling to...to find him," she frowned.
Geralt took Jaskier's hands and realised that the Bard's fingertips were bloody from where he had clawed at the floor. Geralt choked back a sob.
"I'm here Jaskier. Come back to me, please," the Witcher rasped, "it’s over. It's all over."
Jaskier blinked. Then his breathing stuttered. Then he groaned.
"Jaskier?" Geralt's voice was thick with emotion.
"Remind me to never get mixed up with Mages again," Jaskier's voice was reedy and barely audible. His gaze landed on Yennefer, "ah shit. Spoke too soon."
Geralt laughed. It was raspy and almost painful in his raw throat, but it resonated with giddy relief.
Over the next few days they mostly just slept, tangled in each other's arms, in one of the lush bedrooms of the townhouse. Yennefer checked in on them every now and then but tried not to disturb them too much. They were both exhausted and needed time to recover which she had full faith that they would. She was a little worried about their mental states but that was something she could evaluate once they were stronger.
On the morning of the fifth day Geralt was woken by the harsh sunlight spilling through the drapes hanging over the windows. He had been having a rather bad dream about a curse and unimaginable pain but then he remembered that it wasn't a dream, it had actually happened, and he was struck with exhaustion anew just thinking about it. It was strange. He usually didn't need to sleep. Quite often, meditation was enough to revive him but all he had done for however long it had been, was sleep.
He became aware of the warmth in the bed next to him and he let himself smile as he looked at Jaskier sleeping peacefully. The slow rise and fall of his chest. The glow of the morning sun on his skin. He was utterly beautiful. It was hard to believe that not so long ago he had been drowning in terror and pain.
Geralt swallowed hard. The memories would haunt him forever and Gods only knew what lasting effects the trauma would have on Jaskier.
He tried to force the thought away as he traced the side of Jaskier's face with a gentle finger. He ghosted over the Bard's soft lips and graced the curve of his jaw.
Jaskier stirred slightly but didn't wake and Geralt hummed softly.
Let him sleep, he thought to himself, and when he wakes, he won't have time to think about what happened because he'll be too busy being loved by me. Gods Geralt, when did you become such a sap?
He smiled when Jaskier mumbled in his sleep.
Oh. When I fell in love. That's when.
And Geralt let himself sink back into pleasant black.
#the witcher fic#the witcher#netflix the witcher#geralt of rivia#jaskier#dandelion#geraskier#my writing#joey batey#henry cavill#yennefer of vengerberg#yennefer
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
You enjoy the singing, @boyneriver-fraser? 🤔 Roger that. I got the music in me. 😉
I really enjoy listening to Roger sing and play the guitar. I thought it would be fun (😝) to collect his music-to-date in one place. Who knows? If Show-Outlander sticks to Book-Outlander, this post could become a collector’s item. 😬 We’ve got gifs! We’ve got YouTube and Tumblrer videos! We’ve got lyrics! We’ve got song credits! What’s not to collect? 😃 Don’t think I can’t hear you, me ol’ pals among People Of Earth who care neither for Roger nor his music. You’re rolling your eyes so loudly, Keziah Beardsley could hear it.😂 Who knows? Roger might favour us with some more tunes ⚠️ Spoiler Alert ⚠️ before he hangs. I could create a follow-up post! 🎉
Roger’s rat satire S2E13 Dragonfly In Amber (Jennifer Yale, screenwriter, 2016)
🎶 📹 https://youtu.be/KYDK2oDlX5o (lyrics under the cut)
The Devil In The Kitchen S4E3 The False Bride (William Ross, composer, 1880s)
🎶 📹 https://thewanderingace.tumblr.com/post/180327351436/rogers-set-at-the-scottish-festival
I Once Loved A Lass S4E3 The False Bride (Traditional folk song)
🎶 📹 https://youtu.be/IUqTljdrLNM (lyrics under the cut)
L-O-V-E S5E1 The Fiery Cross (Lyrics by Milt Gabler, Music by Bert Kaempfert, 1962)
🎶 📹 https://youtu.be/c6vRmWzlGGI (lyrics under cut)
Joy To The World (Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog) S5E1 The Fiery Cross (Lyrics & Music by Hoyt Axton, 1970)
🎶 📹 https://youtu.be/b6XPKDOkt4Y (lyrics under cut)
Abide With Me S5E2 Between Two Fires (Lyrics by Henry Francis Lyte, 1847, Music by William Henry Monk, 1861)
🎶 📹 https://thewanderingace.tumblr.com/post/611092259988979712/roger-singing-the-hymn-abide-with-me-outlander (lyrics under cut)
Roger’s rat satire S2E13 Dragonfly In Amber (Jennifer Yale, screenwriter)
Ye rats ye are too many
If ye would dine aplenty
Ye must go, ye must go
Go and fill your bellies
Dinna stay and gnaw my wellies.
Go, ye rats, go
I Once Loved A Lass S4E3 The False Bride (Traditional folk song)
I once loved a lass
I loved her sae weel
I hated all others who spoke of her ill
But now she's rewarded me well for my love
For she's gone to be wed to another
I saw my love to the church go
With bridesgroom and bridesmaidens they made a fine show
And I followed on with my heart full of woe
She was gone to be wed to another
I saw my love sit down to dine
As I sat down beside her I poured out the wine
I drank to the lassie that should have been mine
Even though she'd been wed to another
The men o' the forest
They ask it o' me
How many strawberries grow in the south sea?
I answer them a' with a tear in my ee'
How many ships sail in the forest
Dig me a grave
Dig it sae deep
And cover me over wi' flo'ers sae sweet
And I will lay down and tak' a long sleep
And maybe in time I'll forget her
L-O-V-E S5E1 The Fiery Cross (Lyrics by Milt Gabler, Music by Bert Kaempfert, 1962)
L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very, very extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore can
Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two
Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don't break it
Love was made for me and you
L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very, very extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore can
Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two
Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don't break it
Love was made for me and you
Love was made for me and you
Love was made for me and you
Joy To The World (Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog) S5E1 The Fiery Cross (Lyrics & Music by Hoyt Axton, 1970)
Jeremiah was a bull frog
Was a good friend of mine
I never understood a single word he said
But I helped him drink his wine
And he always had some mighty fine wine
Singin'
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls, now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
If I were the king of the world
Tell you what I'd do
I'd throw away the cars and the bars and the wars
Make sweet love to you
Singin' now
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
You know I love the ladies
Love to have my fun
I'm a high night flier and a rainbow rider
A straight-shootin' son of a gun
I said a straight shootin' son of a gun
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the world
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls, now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Abide With Me S5E2 Between Two Fires (Lyrics by Henry Francis Lyte, 1847, Music by William Henry Monk, 1861)
Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.
Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.
Come not in terror, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings;
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea.
Come, Friend of sinners, thus abide with me.
Thou on my head in early youth didst smile,
And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee.
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.
I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.
__________
March 2, 2020
Gifs: @thewanderingace (L-O-V-E x 2), @outlassed (Rat satire), @thebookboyfriendharem (I Once Loved A Lass) Screenshots: @boyneriver-fraser from @thewanderingace (The Devil In The Kitchen, Joy To The World, Abide With Me)
#Outlander #Roger Mac: Greatest Hits Volume 1 #Because People Of Earth are demanding Volume 2 #Roger’s rat satire #The Devil In The Kitchen #I Once Loved A Lass #L-O-V-E #Joy To The World (Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog) #Abide With Me #DIA #S2E13 Dragonfly In Amber #Drums Of Autumn #S4E3 The False Bride #TFC #S5E1 The Fiery Cross #S5E2 Between Two Fires #Brianna MacKenzie #Roger MacKenzie #Jemmy MacKenzie #192 #030220
#Outlander#Roger Mac: Greatest Hits Volume 1#Because People Of Earth are demanding Volume 2#Roger's rat satire#The Devil In The Kitchen#I Once Loved A Lass#L-O-V-E#Joy To The World (Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog)#Abide With Me#DIA#S2E13 Dragonfly In Amber#Drums Of Autumn#S4E3 The False Bride#TFC#S5E1 The Fiery Cross#S5E2 Between Two Fires#Brianna MacKenzie#Roger MacKenzie#Jemmy MacKenzie#192#030220
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
Celebrating Prince: discovering a timeless artist and his meaningful and impactful art. Part 3. The legal battle against Warner Bros, The Gold Experience and Emancipation eras.
Hi music lovers, as I anticipated on monday, music addiction is going to celebrate Prince and his amazing and timeless work!! The article will be split into a few little articles. I hope you enjoy this new format and these articles!!
For some reasons I had to repost this article therefore the 4th part will be uploaded tomorrow✨ stay tuned for more✨
As I said yesterday, let me say that I have heard so many things about Prince’s artistry. Some comments came from uneducated people who did not even take a second of their lives to understand, and do research on his art. Hence, I think the time to shed some light on Prince’s art, has come (finally). I hope to help some of those people understand this artist better and to finally appreciate him the way he deserves. We owe Prince big time. Today’s music and musicians owe Prince everything. Without him, many of the artists we listen to today, WOULD NOT BE EXISTING. As we all know, Prince loved to experiment with music, trying out new music genres, new styles, new harmonies, melodies, rhythms and so on. This is one of the factors that led this legend to create a unique, wide and broad vault. There are so many songs of his that I love so much and that I find relevant for this article. The ones I chose, are going to prove that Prince and his music did not just revolve around sex and sexuality, (even if the artist through his music took the topic to another whole level). Through the article, we will see that Prince was more than all that I mentioned above. He was an extraordinary human being, blessed with so many enormous talents, with a beautiful mind, a uniquely pure soul. A true gift of God. With this in mind, let us start this article.
This is the sequel of the 2 articles I posted yesterday, so in case you guys missed them, check the previous 2 out.
Before I continue with this article, it is important to mention the Prince’s fight against Warner Bros. I know this was a matter so close to his heart and he cared about that. Hence, I think there is the impellent need to explain the situation to spread awareness and to remind the huge efforts Prince made beside his beautiful music. Back in the 90s, the artist’s music was owned by the aforementioned record company, although Prince was the person who composed, wrote, and performed HIS music. The artist was extremely aware of the importance of owning his masters and therefore his music wanted to buy back the rights to his music from Warner Bros, but the company denied that. Therefore, the artist would have had to re-record his music, the same music HE composed, HE wrote and performed. Indeed, as Prince stated in a 1999, Paper interview, “I wanted to buy my masters back from Warner Bros. They said no way. So I'm going to re-record them. All of them. Now you will have two catalogs with pretty much exactly the same music—except mine will be better—and you can either give your money to WB, the big company, or to NPG. You choose.". During this long legal battle, the artist decided to leave Warner Bros and created his own record label The NPG Records. Besides all of that, Prince, during the legal fight with Warner Bros, changed his name into an unpronounceable symbol and started to write the word slave on his face to symbolize the condition of slavery under which many artists had to stay. This battle lasted for about 4 decades. With this Prince was fighting for his artistic freedom, ownership of his work, and his rights. In addition to that, Not only was this huge artist fighting for himself, but also for all the other artists exploited by record companies. The artist formerly known as Prince was not to be silenced. Indeed, many of the works he crafted during the 90s, were an act of protest against record companies. It is extremely important to remind people how this artist gave his contribution and paved the path for other artists to be free and be more aware of this ENORMOUSLY important issue. I briefly summarized and addressed this HUGELY RELEVANT issue, but there would be more to say, and I will write an article about that. I will never stress enough the importance of Prince’s battle against record companies and his music being robbed from him. He has made a big impact and we all should be thankful and grateful to him for being bold enough to speak up about the topic and address this issue.
Moving back to his music, in 1993 Prince ended the partnership with Warner Bros and started his own record label the NPG Records. Needless to say, as soon as the artist started his label, he began working on his new project, The Gold Experience, that eventually was released in 1995. This timeless gem is the product of Prince’s deep and broad artistic evolution. On this masterpiece, there are 3 songs that I find extremely relevant which are: We March, The Most Beautiful Girl in the world, Billy Jack Bitch, and Gold. Through its forthright and explicit lyrics, We March is a powerful protest song where the artist speaks up against racism, misogyny, and prejudice.
If this is the same avenue my ancestors fought 2 liberate
How come I can't buy a piece of it even if my credit's straight?
If all the water's dirty and I wanna lay the pipe, my dammy
The river that I drink from, will it be the same as your mammy
In these lines, the artist is raising his voice against the prejudice of moneylenders.
If this is the same sister that U cannot stop calling a bitch (Bitch)
If U can't find a better reason 2 call this woman otherwise
Then don't cry, U made the bed in which U lie
These lines are a protest against misogyny, particularly slurs such as the term bitch which is seldom referred to women.
Now's the time (now's the time) 2 find a rhyme (Yeah)
That's got a reason (Yeah) and frees the mind (free your mind)
From angry thoughts, the racist kind (Yeah)
If we all wanna a change then come on get in line (Get in line!)
Next time we march (Whoa)
We're kickin' down the door
Next time we march (Hey yeah) (Whoa)
All is what were marchin' 4
With this bit of the lyrics, Not only is the artist revolting against racism, but it is a warm encouragement to react and change the situation. This song is a total anthem against racism, prejudice, and misogyny, to the point that in 1995 it became the hymn of the Million Men March. Moreover, I think it is urgent to focus on the arrangement of this song. The arrangement is strictly connected to the lyrics to make the song even more vivid. I picked the music sheet for the piano. I am not going to annoy you with some obnoxious details, and I will try to be brief. I hope to be as clear as possible. The arrangement is presenting a key signature at the beginning of every staff which means the song is arranged in G major. The key signature designates notes that have to be played higher or lower than the corresponding natural notes, and it is applied through to the end of the piece or up to the next key signature. In this case, after the clef, we can find a sharp sign which means that some notes are raised one semitone above the natural notes. Some other notes have the natural sign near them which means that the sharp key signature is canceled for them, hence these notes are natural. With this said, the question should be, why would Prince arrange the song like this? In my opinion, the artist might have used a key signature to raise some notes and the natural sign to cancel the accidental, for a specific reason. Musically speaking, Prince was an educated genius, hence I am sure he knew exactly what he was doing and why. The artist wanted to create an imbalance between the notes to create the effect of a real and difficult march, almost like climbing a mountain. Perhaps this arrangement might symbolize a difficult march that eventually will lead to the achievement of freedom, respect, equality, acceptance. Therefore, I would say that the connection between the extremely complex arrangement and the lyrics was magistrally crafted. This song is just one of the many examples of how brilliant Prince was.
Furthermore, another song that I love is Billy Jack Bitch. This is another protest song, but the topic is totally different from the previous one. Through these hilarious and sarcastic lyrics, Prince is revolting against a gossip columnist named Cheryl Johnson who was caught being utterly rude. As a matter of fact, the song is so crystal clear that there is no need for further explanations. However, one thing that I noticed in the lyrics Prince managed to mention the initials of the woman.
Joy - it's in the dictionary
See "J" Billy Jack Bitch
The artist could not write the actual initials of the woman, because otherwise he would have been sued. Nonetheless, Prince was so smart that through a phonemic effect (see J) he managed to say the initials of the woman and thus give subtle hints about the woman’s identity. Moreover, what impressed me about the song is the drumline which is in my opinion phenomenal. The striking background vocals also caught my attention because, after some research, I found out that the voice we hear belongs to the rockstar and Prince’s fellow artist Lenny Kravitz’s. Two geniuses in one song are there anything more iconic?
Last but not least, my favorite song on the album is Gold. I love this masterpiece with every cell of my body. The meaning and the message this song is delivering are so POWERFUL!! The deep meaning behind these uplifting lyrics is to be ourselves, be unique, and never follow the mass because “All that glitters ain’t gold”. We should never follow the crowd. Not everything the crowd does is gold, even if it looks like it. We should be ourselves and make a difference. We should take difficult roads and climb the highest mountains to see the top. There would be another method of interpretation. The majestic music video and the scribble slave across Prince’s face might be inferring another significance. Thus, I would assume that this song might be another protest but this time against Warner Bros since Prince was in the legal battle against record label. Indeed, the meaning of the song may apply well to that situation. As a matter of fact, Prince might be inferring that even if contracts with a record company look like gold, in reality, they just glitter that tie the artists to a condition of slavery. Anyways, the arrangement also deserves attention. Indeed, the chorus of the song goes “All that glitters ain’t gold” and in my opinion, the arrangement of the keyboard is extremely peculiar and well related to this bit of the lyrics. First, it is important to say that the keyboard is dominating and I also think it is important to pay attention to its arrangement. As I could see from the music sheet, the arrangement is characterized by high notes which are raised by the key signature after the clef. Indeed, this song is arranged in D major which means that the arrangement contains 2 sharps and the arrangement is written like this :
This also means that all the already high notes on the staff are raised one tone. Now you might be asking: what is the point she is trying to make? what does this have to do with Prince? I am aware that the logic behind this might seem odd, but I will get to the point of this. As I said, this song’s composition is characterized by a range of middle-high notes. As Prince was musically educated, I am quite sure that the composition of this masterpiece and its arrangement, have a deep connection with the lyrics. Indeed, I would assume that Prince might have opted for this arrangement to enhance the meaning of this beautiful masterpiece. The chorus of this song goes “all that glitters ain’t gold” and in the music video we can see Prince being “showered” with a rain of golden glitters, therefore this recurring topic might be what connects the lyrics to the arrangement of the song. As a matter of fact, when we think about glitters, especially a rain of glitter we might associate this with a particular sound which most likely might be characterized by some high tinkling sound. This is exactly the effect Prince aimed to create with this magistral arrangement. Those middle-high notes I mentioned have the peculiarity of creating this beautiful effect that is the sound of glitter tinkling, which is even more enhanced by the music video.
The release of Emancipation marked Prince’s definitive end of the partnership with the record label Warner Bros. It was the artist’s 19th studio album and probably one of my favorites. From the self-explanatory title, it is quite evident that Prince was still fighting against WB for his rights. However, not only is this work featuring protest songs but also some covers and some love songs where the artist expresses his affection for his former wife Mayte Garcia. Through some well thought and precise details, Prince’s personal touch is quite evident in this project. Indeed, this is a triple album and each album is consisting of 12 songs. Each album lasts exactly 60 minutes. Hence, the accuracy and the precision behind this masterpiece are quite impressive. In fact, the artist had an explanation for this, as he explained in several interviews, this was based on his studies of ancient Egypt and Egyptians: “The building of the pyramids and how the pyramids were related to the constellations. They were a message from the Egyptians about how civilization really started."
Among the most significant songs on this masterpiece we can find: The Holy River, Slave, The Love We Make, and the homonymous Emancipation.
The first song mentioned is The Holy River. Through these exceedingly deep lyrics, we can infer that the artist went through a major spiritual shift. More precisely, the Holy River might be a metaphor that might be symbolizing the baptism. Indeed, if my guessing is correct, this metaphor will be perfect with the general meaning of the song as being baptized also means the beginning of a new life, which is what Prince experienced with this major spiritual shift.
Let's go down 2 the holy river
If we drown then we'll be delivered
U can still see the picture upon the wall
One eye staring at nothing at all
The other one trying 2 focus through all your tears
U can try and try but there's nothin' 2 hide
U can't run from yourself and what's inside
U got 2 find the answers 2 the questions that U most fear
So over and over U ask your soul
Why'd U come down 2 a world so cold?
And the voice inside says 2night the truth will be told
Also, the chorus of the song is quite eloquent as Prince is providing a detailed explaining of how he went through a dark moment in his life where he was struggling to find answers, where he was afraid to look inside of himself and to find the truth and the answers.
U surrounded yourself with all the wrong faces
Spending your time in all the wrong places
Puttin' your faith in things that only make U cry
People say they love U when they wanna help
But how can they when U can't help yourself?
The more they say they love U, the more U just wanna die
So here we go again, the self-analysis
Have another glass of Port and uh... forget this
The band's playin' at the club 2night and they're bound 2 groove
Also, these lines are quite eloquent, and I think there is no need for some further explanation. These are practically a description of the troubles he went through and how lonely and hopeless he felt during that time of his life and how he managed to survive.
There U are, U think U're high
U can't ask yourself cuz U'd only lie
If U had a dollar 4 every time U tried
U can't call nobody cuz they'll tell U straight up
Come and make love when U really hate 'em
Relationships based on the physical are over and done
��They're over and done (They're over and done)
U'd rather have fun
With only one, with only one
Only one... one (one)
Again, in these lines, the artist is describing what he went through. In the last 5 lines, we can notice that a major spiritual shift was occurring and thus the positive change the artist went through Indeed, in the next lines, the artist describes how he started to change after he realized that God was by his side.
And then it hit 'cha like a fist on a wall
Who gave U life when there was none at all?
Who gave the sun permission 2 rise up every day? (Ooh, oh yes)
Let me tell it (Go'n)
If U ask God 2 love U longer
Every breath U take will make U stronger
Keepin' U happy (happy) and proud 2 call His name (Go'n and say it)
Jesus (Jesus)
And over and over U ask your soul
Why'd U come down 2 a world so cold?
And the voice inside said 2night the truth will be told
And this time I was listening, hear me
As a matter of fact, as I mentioned, these lines explain, perfectly a time of transition when the artist was evolving and changing. In the next lines, the artist describes the moments after the spiritual shift took place.
Let's go down 2 the holy river
If we drown then we'll be delivered (Yes we will)
If we don't then we'll never see the light (No)
If U die before U try
U'll have 2 come back and face the light (Oh yes)
When U believe it, U got a good reason 2 cry (Oh my, my)
So I went on down 2 the holy river
I called my girl and told her I had something 2 give her
I asked her 2 marry me and she said yes, I cried
Oh, that night I drowned in her tears and mine
And.. and instead of a glass of sorrow and wine
Looking back y'all, I don't miss nothing except the time
And when I see that picture up on the wall
The one eye staring at nothing at all
My eyes trying 2 focus but these are much different tears
Oh, yes they are
Like the end of a beautiful story, these last lines, are the conclusion of this masterpiece that closes with a “happy ever after”. Indeed, in these last lines, the artist compares the act of going down to the holy river to facing the light which means a new beginning, a new life. In these last 9 lines, the artist describes the exact moment when he proposed to his girlfriend to marry him. He then reconnects to the beginning of the song where he cried tears of sorrow while at the end of this story he said to be crying “much different tears” which perhaps might be tears of happiness. Moreover, musically speaking, the arrangement of this song is quite homogenous except for the very last bars. After the artist finishes performing the lyrics, he reprises the main harmonies and performs them with a guitar and piano solo, then adding a choir that performs the background vocals with some light head voices that recall the angels singing. These last bars are played in such a manner that reflects the feeling of the artist: joy, love, relief, ultimate happiness. All the emotions a person who has experienced a major spiritual shift will feel. Furthermore, I have also noticed a shift in the instrumental. At the beginning of this masterpiece, the instrumental is “softer” and the sound of the instruments is kept lower. This happens for the first part of the song where Prince describes what he experienced when he was going through a difficult time. Then, after the artist sings these lines: “ Relationships based on the physical are over and done
They're over and done (They're over and done)
U'd rather have fun
With only one, with only one
Only one... one (one) “
it is extremely evident that the instrumental changes. Indeed, Prince turns up the volume of the instruments which are in my opinion, also joyously played, like he is telling his listener “listen to me, this is my story, I Am happy, and you should be too”.
Another song that I totally love is Slave. This is, in my opinion, such an ingenious masterpiece and we can hear how Prince took inspiration from the whole work songs genre. With the forthright message of the song, Prince was still raising awareness about how record companies exploited artists, hence he wrote this powerful masterpiece, a protest song, to release all his rage and frustration.
Everybody keeps trying to break my heart
Everybody except for me
I just want a chance to play the part
The part of someone truly free
From its chorus, this song is extremely eloquent. Prince is basically protesting against his enemies who most likely would be record companies and perhaps, as he mentioned in the 4th line
“My enemies kept it turning, but now they pound the gavel
And judging me accordingly, I know, I know”
those who judge him for commencing a legal fight against record companies. However, I am quite sure that this masterpiece is a protest song crafted to vent and raise awareness about the condition artists had to stay under for an extremely long time which was treated as slaves. In support of my theory, I would report these lyrics:
Slowly candle burns, where'd they learn hypnosis?
How'd they keep me under for so long?
Break the bread I earn, just keep me far from closest
I need their kind to illustrate what's wrong - what's wrong?
Well, I'll tell you they just keep trying to break my heart
They just keep trying to break my heart, ow!
From the second line, it is quite clear that those who kept the artist under and broke the bread he earned might have been the record companies, particularly Warner Bros, that contractually forced Prince to produce his music and kept a big part of his earnings OF THE MUSIC HE PRODUCED, HIS OWN MUSIC. Another interpretation of this line might be that Warner Bros owned the rights of PRINCE’S MUSIC. Therefore, the artist did not have the rights of his own music which should have been HIS OWN. Moreover, as Prince explained in several interviews when he asked the record company for the rights of HIS MUSIC back, they just said no. This might explain well this line as the record label by not giving him his rights back kept Prince far from emancipating, and hence the artist just left Warner Bros and started his own record company. Moreover, what left me speechless and mesmerized, in total awe about this MASTERPIECE, is the instrumental and the music genre Prince chose to craft this MONUMENTAL PIECE OF ART. Why did Prince choose to give this masterpiece the title of Slave and what music genre could suit well a song with this eloquent title? Obviously, a work song with some soul influences. Indeed, what amazed me is that this masterpiece is crafted as a real work song. To understand this masterpiece better, I need to step back to the work song genre and explain some of their distinctive and relevant peculiarities. Work song is a music genre that was spread around the world (indeed there is more than just one type of work song, they were used all around the world), but focusing on Afro-American work songs, this music genre developed in America during slavery times between the xvii-xix century. This genre had several functions for instance: to coordinate the labor of a group of people working together, which improved the efficiency of the work, and to relieve the boredom of a tedious job, which improves the lives of the workers. Also, work songs were seldom used as an act of protest against the condition of slavery, injustice, and poverty. These songs were frequently sung by a leader followed by a choir. Additionally, to keep the rhythm of those chants, workers generally used their working tools or the stomping of their feet or they even clapped their hands. With this said as I would say that Slave by Prince is part of this music genre. Moreover, as we can hear, the beats of this masterpiece resemble the use of the tools used by slaves to create the rhythmic path to their chants. Another peculiarity that was taken after the music genre just mentioned, is the choir to which Prince was the lead singer. Indeed, the artist performs the main lines while the chorus is performed by the choir. This technique is called call and response which was quite typical in Afro-American work songs. Additionally, the emphatic and emotional and heartfelt performance the artist offered, makes it easy to sympathize with his pain, his rage, and his exhaustion.
Furthermore, one of my favorite songs on this album is The Love We Make. Such a breathtaking masterpiece. In my opinion, the meaning of this masterpiece is quite hermetic. Indeed, just by reading the lyrics, it might not be clear what Prince meant with those words. However, It is widely believed that this song might have been produced to remember Jonathan Melvoin, Susannah, and Wendy’s brother, who died from heroin overdose. Melvoin was a musical child prodigy who worked with Prince on several projects and he also collaborated with some punk bands. It is believed that this song is dedicated to him for several reasons: the first one is the year he passed away which was 1996, secondly, and most importantly because the artist described the song as “written to speak to the spirit of a friend lost to drugs”. Moreover, in the liner notes to the Emancipation 1996 LP, the song is described as “written for a lost friend”. Hence, for all these reasons, this song is believed to be about Jonathan Melvoin. This is perhaps one of the most powerful and inspiring songs in Prince’s vault, truly breathtaking. With the reassuring yet preaching lyrics the artist was delivering an enlightening message: no matter how difficult life might be, there is still hope and we should all be grateful for the miracle and the gift God gave us.
Happy is the way 2 meet your burdens
No matter how heavy or dark the day
Pity on those with no hope 4 2morrow
It’s never as bad as it seems until we say
As I mentioned, specifically in these lines Prince is encouraging the listener to be happy and full of hope no matter what, condemning those who do not have hope in the future as things are never as bad as they seem.
Precious is the baby with a mother
That tells him that his savior is coming soon
All that believe will cleanse and purify themselves
Put down the needle, put down the spoon
Even though these lines are quite hermetic and enigmatic I will attempt to give a proper explanation. The artist is mentioning a baby and his mother, and the mother telling the baby that his savior is coming soon. Hence, as Prince was extremely spiritual and had a great, broad, and keen knowledge of the Bible and the Gospel, I would assume that these two lines are related to the Scriptures. The logic behind this might seem odd, but I will attempt to get to the point with a proper explanation. As Prince was fascinated by the ancient Egyptian world, as it is evident from the set up of the songs on the album, I would assume that these lines are connected to two biblical figures. Honestly, at first, before doing my research, I was going to assume that Prince was alluding to Jesus Christ and the Holy Mary. However, the biblical figures he was hinting to, were instead Moses and his mother Jochebed. For those who are not familiar with the Scripture, Jochebed to avoid the mass slaughter of Hebrew boys, and therefore, her son to be brutally killed, she set her baby adrift in the Nile River, hoping someone would find him and raise him. God so worked that her baby was found by Pharaoh's daughter. Jochebed even became her own son's nurse. Then, God used Moses mightily, to free the Hebrew people from their 400 years of slavery and took them to the Promised Land. Although little is written about Jochebed in the Bible, her story speaks powerfully to mothers of today. Hence, the connection between those two lines of the song and the biblical figures is quite clear. Moreover, as the title of the album is Emancipation and one of the topics of this masterpiece is the artist’s rebellion against Warner Bros, which forced him to work in a condition of slavery, Moses's story who freed Hebrews from slavery and took them to the Promised Land, might apply quite well to Prince’s story who fought to free himself from Warner Bros and start his own record company. Moreover, with the following two lines Prince is suggesting that by believing in God we are purifying and cleansing themselves. As regards to the last line, as I mentioned, is what created the widespread belief that this masterpiece might have been dedicated and inspired by Jonathan Melvoin. In addition to that, on the album, there are not reported the full lyrics of the song, but just one line of it which is precisely “Put down the needle, put down the spoon” and on the bottom line we can find “Written 4 a lost friend.” which hints even more to Jonathan Melvoin. Again, referring to the line I just mentioned, Prince is using another tone to sing these words. Indeed, if we listen to the song attentively, we would hear how the artist was preaching against drug addiction. Furthermore, the next lines, are extremely well related to the previous one.
Sacred is the prayer that asks 4 nothing, oh
While seeking 2 give thanks 4 every breath we take, oh
Blessed are we inside this prayer
4 in the new world, we will be there
With these lines, Prince is encouraging the listener to be grateful for the gift of life, giving thanks for every breath we take, praying God without asking him for anything but rather praying him with gratitude for the gift of life. In the last two lines, Prince is basically telling the listener that those who pray God, believe in Him, and have faith in Him, will be blessed with a “new world” which is the Kingdom of Heaven. The last lines of the song are the chorus.
The only love there is, is the love we make {x2}
(the only love there is, is the love we make)
Only love there is, only love there is
The only love there is, is the love we make (yeah)
The only love there is, is the love we make
These lines repeated four times like a beautiful monumental hymn, are used to teach a vital lesson: the only thing that matters is the love we give out, the love we spread while we are alive. That is to say, this is the ultimate purpose of life: to give love and being grateful for the gift of life. Furthermore, as regards the arrangement of this masterpiece, it was crafted in such a way that it allowed the artist to use a preaching tone during the interpretation. This peculiarity in the performance of the song is even more enhanced at the end of the masterpiece. Indeed, when the artist performs the lines that begin with “Sacred is the prayer that asks 4 nothing”, he changed the vocal register from a light chest voice to a powerful head voice which also gives more power to the words he was singing turning them into a real preach. The shift of vocal register in this particular bit of the song is also extremely effective as the artist is singing out loud such an important lesson that MUST be heard by everyone. Perhaps Prince has put so much emphasis on these magistrally written lines because this is the fulcrum of the song that everyone must listen to carefully. Additionally, if we listen to Prince’s voice attentively, we will hear some slight shifts in the intention put in the performance. As regards to the instrumental, the Artist opted for a slow ballad in 4/4. Although the choice of a slow ballad, the song is reinforced by guitar, drums, and piano. Additionally, while I was listening to this masterpiece, I realized that the instrumental is characterized by a progressive raising of the tonality of the song. This way, the instrumental was raised by 2 octaves. This characteristic, besides making this masterpiece even more effective and turning it into a beautiful and inspiring preach, gives the listener the idea of a beautiful climb that gets straight to heaven. Personally, whenever I listen to this masterpiece, I feel like I’m watching a beautiful sunset or hiking in the mountains. Moreover, the arrangement is mostly characterized by music accidentals, which in my opinion are an extremely important part of the composition of the song since without them the song would not be perceived as a powerful preach.
If you guys would like to purchase your copy of the albums I wrote about in this article (which I recommend, PLEASE DO NOT BOOTLEG PRINCE’S MUSIC), I’ll post the links below here
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07G4RYC5D/ref=as_sl_pc_tf_til?tag=giuliabianchi-20&linkCode=w00&linkId=2a37eabce98ae7fd530fddeff2287ed5&creativeASIN=B07G4RYC5D
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07VRFM9YJ/ref=as_sl_pc_tf_til?tag=giuliabianchi-20&linkCode=w00&linkId=a1e0d017e5a3de4e6b01f3fc5a5f4f3c&creativeASIN=B07VRFM9YJ
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07G4LHQHQ/ref=as_sl_pc_tf_til?tag=giuliabianchi-20&linkCode=w00&linkId=1da616a288e24d1a38bd64113cbb08a0&creativeASIN=B07G4LHQHQ
This was the third part of a series of articles dedicated to Prince to celebrate his life and most importantly his art. Stay tuned for more. If you have missed the first part feel free to check it out✨ In the meantime stay home, stay safe and healthy. Peace and Love 4 one another. thank you so much for your attention 💜 G 💜
#prince nelson#princerogersnelson#prince#rip prince#purple family#purple royalty#the purple one#music#music icon#black excellence#music blog#iconic#great artists#genius#enjoy#reblog#90s music#funk music#rock music#pop music#music legend#legend#musician#inspiration#inspirational#article#good music#music history
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s @zerozeroren‘s birthday! I can’t send her anything due to pandemic, so I’m writing her a nice fluffy father-son moment with Logos and Autor that just so happens to relate to the fic I just posted.
Catching Autor looking pensive is nothing new. Usually all anyone has to do to see it is check the office or the library. Today, however, he’s sitting at the upright, staring at the Gem in his hand. While he sits there and contemplates doing what he wishes, Logos happens to catch him.
“Ah, did Erina give you a gift?” he asks Autor.
Autor lets the Glory slip from his fingers, suspended on a delicate chain around his neck. The replica is quite small, only just big enough to hold the inscription, and attached to the chain at the two points where the serpents’ mouths meet each others’ tails. “You could say that,” he answers.
“May I see it?” Logos asks.
Autor undoes the chain and offers the jewelry to his father. “It’s a replica of AURYN.”
Logos takes the piece and whistles low in admiration as he inspects it. “Look at that detail. It even says, ‘Do What You Wish,’ on the back. Did you tell her you like that story or did she just guess?”
“She guessed I like the story.”
Logos gives the piece back, frowning a little at the way Autor shifts in place and the flatness of his response. “Everything all right between you two?”
Autor puts the replica back on and goes, “That... the relationship is okay.”
That’s an odd way to put it, but Logos can tell he’s stepping too far. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to press.”
“I know you didn’t,” Autor answers, hand going to the replica again. This time when he speaks, his brows furrow like he’s come to some decision. “I... It’s complicated, being in love.”
Isn’t that always the way of the teenager, something so simple on the surface being so complicated? Logos grins and says, “So? You’re in love with Erina. What’s so complicated about being in love with your girlfriend?”
But Autor shakes his head and the truth comes out. “You don’t understand. She’s not my girlfriend.”
Logos goes back to frowning and leans a little closer, waiting for elaboration. He doesn’t remember Autor and Erina breaking up, so what’s going on?
He takes a shaky breath and scrubs at his eyes under his glasses. “She asked... she asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend. That’s all this is. And apparently- ” He holds up the Gem again. “ -I’m doing a good job of it since she’s given me my ‘payment.’”
“Oh Autor,” Logos says, aware that most of the other words he has have long since become useless.
“What do I do, Vati?” Autor quietly asks, unable to wipe away his tears fast enough to hide them anymore.
He’s so small in asking, like a little boy again, and Logos wants all the answers to give him but knows he can never have them all. So the father puts an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Oh Autor, we’ll figure that out. You don’t have to figure it out alone.”
Autor leans against his father’s shoulder like he did when he was a kid, a little surprised at how safe he feels. He can’t go through the reasons why, not when he’s so focused on hurting. But the longer he stays here, the smaller the hurt becomes. And while the pain doesn’t go away completely, knowing he doesn’t have to face, “What do I do?” by himself leaves a warm relief in his heart.
Eventually Logos says, “Here, I was just about to get dinner started. Why don’t you come with me to the kitchen so we can figure this out?”
He feels Autor nod against him. He lets go and takes a step back, his frown only growing deeper as he looks at the miserable young man before him. He sighs through his nose, wishing he could just take all of his child’s pain away. But that’s not how life works.
“Do you mind telling me how it all started?” Logos asks as he turns towards the kitchen, indicating that Autor follow. “Like how you met Erina in the first place?”
Autor takes his glasses off a moment and wipes his eyes. “She...” He sniffles again. “She and Fakir needed a pianist for their dance practice.” He follows his father into the kitchen as Logos gets the kettle and sets it on the stove. “She got sick of everyone trying to pair her up with Fakir, so she asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend.”
“Poor girl,” Logos says as he heads to the cabinets next, working on his mise en place. “It must have been bad if she thought she had to be in a relationship to get some peace. Could you get the vegetables, Autor?”
Autor dutifully fetches an onion and some peppers. “Are we having potatoes, too?”
“Yes, thank you,” he says, setting out a cutting board. “Would you like to help or would you rather sit?”
“I can help,” Autor answers, taking some potatoes as well and bringing them over.
The two get to work, Logos chopping vegetables and Autor peeling potatoes.
“So,” Logos continues. “I do know what it’s like, pretending to be in a relationship only for there to be actual chemistry. Sometimes I’m a little too good at my job and get the occasional love confession, even now.”
“Really? You tell them about Mutti, right?”
“Of course. And they understand nothing will come of it. But I won’t lie, before your mother and I got together, some stage relationships ended up becoming offstage relationships.” He cleans the seeds out of the peppers. “Erina’s probably familiar with that herself, probably had more fake relationships than real ones when it comes to romance.”
Autor thinks back to the conversation he and Erina had when the arrangement began and her insistence on a fake relationship. When his father puts it like that, it makes sense to ask for what she knows. Would she still do that now?
“Now, how have you and Erina been enjoying your time together? Does this seem like a chore to her, or are both of you enjoying yourselves?”
Autor goes quiet, focusing more on the potatoes. Is she? She seems to be, but she might just be good at acting. Or he might just be imagining what he wants. For that matter, they didn’t say him receiving payment would be the end of the relationship, just the point when it was earned. And come to think of it, she wouldn’t have to pretend if they were alone.
Logos hums and says, “Well, if you’re not sure, maybe you should find out. Maybe Erina’s enjoying your company just as much as you’re enjoying hers. It’s worth asking to see if there’s a chance your feelings are requited.”
“And then?” he asks. “If they aren’t?”
“That’s up to you, if you’d like to tell her. The truth probably will come out sooner or later. But while it’s possible she doesn’t feel the same way, why despair about it before you know?”
Autor sets down the potato in his hand and the peeler. “When you put it like that, it does seem silly to get all worked up about it without even knowing.”
“It’s okay,” Logos says, moving the chopped vegetables to the pan. “With this situation, it’s only natural to be in a little turmoil.” He pauses after he says that and smiles, the first smile he’s put on after this topic came up. “Or maybe there’s another word for it.”
Autor glances over at his father just as he was about to resume his task, the familiarity seeping in but not quite clear yet. “Oh?”
“Do you want to pine over Cinderella or Rapunzel?”
Meaning strikes, but Autor doesn’t answer.
“Come on, I know you prefer Lloyd Webber-” Logos begins.
“Used to prefer Lloyd Webber!” Autor interrupts.
“-but Sondheim!”
“But really? Right now?”
“It’s so ridiculous that it’s sure to help. Or get some of the feelings out. If it doesn’t, we can sing something else. But even like this, Agony is pretty fun.”
Autor picks up another potato, the last one he has to peel at this point, and gets the peeler once more. “....all right, but I’ll be Cinderella’s Prince. I don’t think I’m as good as Rapunzel’s Prince.”
“Then you start.”
“Okay, just let me get this weird curve,” Autor says, trying to work the peeler around the oddly shaped potato. And then, after clearing his throat and a bit of humming to find his pitch, he begins:
“Did I abuse her or show her disdain? Why does she run from me? If I should lose her, how shall I regain the heart she has won from me? Agony!”
It’s here that Autor reaches out, gesturing with the potato peeler.
“Beyond power of speech when the one thing you want is the only thing out of your reach.”
Logos manages not to laugh before it’s his turn:
“High in her tower, she sits by the hour maintaining her hair. Blithe and becoming, and frequently humming a lighthearted air.”
As Logos wordlessly sings the tune, his overly-operatic voice leaves Autor in silent stitches. Father fetches a pot for the potatoes and Son reaches up from being doubled over to take it.
“Agony! Far more painful than yours!”
Autor laughs out loud at this point.
Undeterred, Logos continues:
“When you know she would go with you if there only were doors.”
The two manage to make it to the next bit, singing together:
“Agony! Oh the torture they teach!”
“What’s as intriguing- “ Logos asks.
“Or half as fatiguing- “ Autor adds.
“As what’s out of reach?” they join again.
It’s Autor’s turn again, and on each word he continues part of his task, potatoes going in the pot one by one, the water going in to cover them, and finally finding their home on top of the stove:
“Am I not sensitive, clever, well-mannered, considerate, passionate, charming, as kind as I’m handsome, and heir to a throne?!”
Logos throws an arm out to Autor and sings, “You are everything maidens could wish for!”
“Then why no?” Autor asks.
“Do I know?” Logos sings with a shrug.
“The girl must be mad!” he sings back.
Logos holds his arms out in front of him and looks up with, “You know nothing of madness ‘til you’re climbing her hair, and you see her up there, as you’re nearing her all the while hearing her!”
He vocalizes again, just as operatic as before, and Autor holds up a hand while he tries to catch his breath from singing and laughing.
“Agony!” they both sing.
“Misery!” Autor chokes out, tears of a different kind in his eyes.
“Woe!” Logos adds, who goes it alone on, “Though it’s different for each,” due to Autor composing himself for his next line.
“Always ten steps behind- “ Autor somehow gets out.
“Always ten feet below- “ Logos sings, once again taking a line on his own, “And she’s just out of reach.” He pats his son on the back as they get to the last bit together.
“Agony that can cut like a knife! I must have her to wife!”
“What are you two doing?” A new voice asks.
Both men turn to find Lore has joined them in the kitchen, a bag of groceries in her arms.
“Ah, let me get that for you, Mutti,” Autor says instead of answering, going to take the groceries.
“We were just starting dinner,” Logos says, joining them to give Lore a kiss on the cheek. He looks to Autor a moment, trying to figure out if his son will give him permission to tell Lore about what they’ve discussed. But with the answer unclear for now, he’ll just have to wait.
Oh well. At least he got Autor to laugh.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Surprise PARTAY!!! In The (Idol) House
Nico Maki, Love Live, 4K, 1/1
SUMMARY: Everyone has a plan for Nishikino Maki's birthday. Which one is the winner?
SURPRISE PARTAY!!! IN THE IDOL HOUSE
TWO NIGHTS BEFORE NISHIKINO MAKI'S BIRTHDAY
Hoshizora Rin flumped, hanging her upper torso down off the bed she and Koizumi Hanayo were sharing to watch the latest installment of Idol House.
“ ‘S weird, Kayo-chin, we were talking about all this with Maki two weeks ago and now it’s on TV.” Rin did an ab curl.
“Having only a two week delay is HUGE." Hanayo's eyes gleamed behind her glasses. She loved talking Idol House. "Nico worked so hard for the initial set up, to make everything go smoothly. She originally pushed for one week, but there was no way editing and song rights could have happened.”
Rin giggled. “It’s like Maki’s in soooper slow motion.”
Rin bounced a leg impatiently, Hanayo leaned down to pull her up, “Come on, it’s coming back. Maybe we’ll see Maki.”
But no, they cut to a conversation in one of the three girl’s bedroom, Kawano Aki talking to Bokeh Blossom guitarist Harada Mai, who had switched rooms with Yazawa Nico after Kawano confessed her crush on Muse’s tiny tempest.
Aki was lying prone in the bottom bunk, dressed in sweats, her arms wrapped around her favorite huge purple plushie. Fluffy bathrobe pulled around her, Mai was sipping from a mug of herbal tea in the padded, circular seat catercorner to the bunks.
“They fight all the time, Mai-chan. Maki-chan…”
“Maki-chan?” RIn and Mai spoke at the same time, Rin sitting up, suspicious.
Aki shrugged and blushed, “She is awfully cute. And it’s no wonder she’s grumpy. Nico leaves her down in the recording studio alone for half the night. Just yesterday, I heard Nico shouting at Maki-chan that she needed to put a better effort into Shizu-chan’s new song. And why is Shizu-chan getting Muse’s composer to work on her solo?”
Mai shook her head, “Maybe she didn’t tell Japan about her crush on the composer’s fiancee?”
AKi frowned, “Shizu-chan has a crush on Nico? Well, Nico’s being so nice to her…”
“No, Aki-san, I meant you.” Mai quietly correcting.
Aki shook herself, disgruntled, pounded the plushie a little, and shifted so she was sitting cross legged on the bed, “Well, I don’t think Nico’s so nice anymore. Maki’s probably used to being fussed over and instead of fancy takeout or bentos, Nico just leaves these...dented soup thermoses full of curry or something and disappears. Maki-chan’s probably used to expensive restaurants. Her parents own a hospital, they're super rich, it’s why they didn’t want her on the show.”
“Really?” Mai seemed surprised.
“Yeah, I looked her up on a Muse fansite.”
Hanayo and Rin held hands for comfort, “Maki’s not going to like this.”
“Nico’s going to hate this.” Hanayo sighed.
“The site said Maki-chan’s birthday’s coming up. I think we should throw her a party.” Aki put the plushie aside, “Shizu-chan suggested it because Maki’s been so helpful.”
“Nope.” Rin shouted, waving a fist at the screen. “You’re lying, Aki-san.”
Mai took another sip. “That could be fun. Have you talked to Nico?”
Aki pouted. “She’s too busy. She’s got that sakura shoot in Kyoto.”
“I bet Nico has already made plans.”
“From what I heard it didn’t sound like it.” Aki slid closer, whispering.
“What did you hear?” Mai put her mug down and leaned forward.
TWO WEEKS AGO
Maki was sitting behind her keyboards, headphones on, eyes closed as she concentrated. Nico paused in the door for a moment, jacket over her arm, to enjoy the sight of Maki totally absorbed in music, luxurious eyelashes fluttering, luscious lips mouthing lyrics. Nico missed that voice, she was sorry she didn’t have more time to spend here with Maki working on music, but if Nico was going to really launch her solo careeer in two and half months, she had a lot of miles and hours to put in. Plus, Maki was so relaxed here, in the recording studio, with the best equipment, able to move more than she had cramped up in her room with a laptop and midi synth, hiding her habits from her parents. After a few minutes, and Maki's luscious lips mouthing lyrics Nico didn't know, Nico couldn’t watch anymore, and just decided it was time to slide her arms around her talented, gorgeous, spaced out fiancée. But Nico had forgotten just how spaced out Maki could get when she was working out a problem, so when Nico’s hands slid over Maki’s, Maki screamed and jumped, Nico reflexively holding onto the chair so Maki didn’t tilt onto the floor.
“Nico-chan?!!!!???" Maki's voice trembled, "What are you doing, why did you, that was….”
“I’m sorry, Maki, I thought you saw me…”
Maki snapped, “I wasn’t expecting a ninja stalker.”
Nico grinned, “Nico did look dangerously hot in that ninja photoshoot back then.”
Maki reached for the power cord that had been pulled out of the computer, “The only thing you’re a danger to is electronic devices.”
“Hey, you’re the one who nearly knocked the laptop over. Don’t blame Nico.”
“I almost had it, Nico...you know how I work, why did you interrupt me?" Maki scowled, "I’m doing this for your stupid show.”
“It’s not a stupid show,” Nico turned to the camera, glitter smiled and did her signature move, “Nico Nico Ni, you know how important it is for people to see the real work Idols put in. Too many people think we’re silly airheads.”
“I WAS working and you…” Maki had her headset in one hand, gesturing with it, “Can I get back now, before I totally lose the counterpoint.”
Nico sighed and shrugged, “Sure. Nico is sorry she scared you.”
Maki’s voice was almost a shout, “I wasn’t scared.”
Nico fluttered her eyelashes alluringly, “Nico just wanted to see if you wanted an escort home.”
Maki put the headphones around her neck, leaned over the table, glancing at the clock on the laptop, “Nah, I’m going be up for a couple of hours to finish this. And I’ll sleep on the couch down here.”
“You could come up to Nico’s room.”
“I thought we agreed that wasn’t a good idea.”
Aki had been standing outside the door, waiting for a moment to break into the conversation. As soon as she pushed the door open, Nico’s head swivelled, ruby eyes narrowing. Then Nico relaxed, “Hi, Aki. Did you need Nico?”
Aki toyed with her ponytail, “I didn’t know you were here, Nico.”
Maki snorted and leaned into her hand, elbow propped next to her laptop, laser focused on the distance Nico was keeping from her former bunkmate.
“Nico is ninja tonight.” Nico glanced back to stick out her tongue at Maki, who rolled her eyes.
“I was wondering if Maki-chan wanted a snack.”
Maki saw irritation flash across Nico’s face and didn’t know why, but when Nico answered Aki, there was only the slightest whip of sarcasm as Nico began, “Maki-CHAN is fine. Nico is taking care of her. But it’s so late, Aki. And Nico’s been telling you that there’s nothing better for an idol’s skin than 8 hours of sleep.”
Maki wondered when the last time Nico had slept for that long.
Nico put a weighted arm around Aki’s shoulder and hurried her to the door, “Why don’t you try the cucumber mask Nico showed you the other night? Nico will check later to make sure you placed the cucumbers right.”
“Thanks, Nico-chan.”
“Nico Nico no problem.” Nico flashed her hand gesture, shut the door solidly, turned the lock and faced Maki, leaning casually back, “Nico misses you.”
“I’m sure the centimeter Kawano-san’s skirts lose everyday soothes you.”
“Nico doesn’t notice.”
Maki glared at Nico as she dropped back into her chair.
Nico pushed off the door and ran a hand through her hair, “Nico doesn’t care.”
“I do.”
Nico was behind the chair again, her mouth close to Maki’s ear, “Can we try this again?”
After a hesitation, Maki nodded.
Nico slid her hands down Maki’s arms, squeezing Maki’s hands before pullling the composer into a hug, “I missed you. I’m sorry I have to leave before breakfast.”
“Oh..is that…”
“Kyoto.”
Maki’s forehead hit the keyboard, “This April sucks.”
“Nico will make it up to you.”
Maki slid the headphones up, surprising Nico with a smile, “I know it’s important. And I love you.”
“Thanks.” Nico leaned against the table, staring into the tempting warmth of Maki’s eyes as she took Maki’s left hand, running her fingers over the stones of the engagment ring. “Once Nico gets everything set up, we’ll have more time together.”
“Good.”
“Come upstairs and snuggle.”
Maki blushed and shook her head. Three in a room was not a thrill or a draw for Maki.
“Okay, Nico will stay here for awhile.” Nico pulled her shirt out of her skirt, pulled up her knees after she sat, and wrapped a throw around herself.
“Listen to this for me, Nico-chan.” Maki moved a lever and the speakers came on.
“Any time.” Nico would sit on nails, glass, and lava for the brilliant gleam in those sharp, amethyst eyes. Maki’s daredevil grin brightening all of Tokyo when Nico was all in on Maki was a more enticing show than anything Nico had ever imagined.
ONE WEEK AGO
All of the residents agreed that one of the coolest things about Idol House was that it was also Muse House, with Nico living there, Hanayo helping with social media, Umi leading workouts, long distance dance tips from Eli, Maki in the basement, Kotori dropping off clothing samples, Rin leading a dawn run three times a week, Nozomi dropping by via virtual hangout to gossip and to give insights from her cards, and possibly everyone’s favorite perq, Honoka sweeping through occasionally with an encouraging smile and a week’s worth of desserts from Homura. Today was drop off day and Honoka popped in, glad to be away from the bakery for an afternoon.
“Honoka-chan!” Aki had been waiting in the kitchen, taking Hanayo's advice and making supportive comments on fellow house members TWIG posts, although she ignored Nico’s posts from Kyoto. Three weeks, two guest spots, several photoshoots. Aki didn’t know what Nico’s trick to success was, but she was determined to at least get a Nishikino Maki tune of her own, if not Nishikino Maki.
“Aki-chan! You look cute today!” Honoka put down the stack of boxes with a sigh of relief.
“Let me get you a juice.”
“Thanks!” Honoka sat at the table, glad to have someone getting her a cold drink instead of fussing at her like her mom did.
“So did you hear about Maki’s birthday party?” Aki asked over her shoulder.
Honoka tilted her head, puzzled. She knew Nico had planned a surprise Muse get together and Rin and Hanayo were going to take Maki out to dinner and bring her to the restaurant they'd all decided on since Nico had to nearly hit hyperspeed to get back to Tokyo in time. “Yeah, Maki’ll be surprised.”
Aki took a deep breath, “You know we’re having it here, right, the night before so we can all watch the broadcast together.”
“But RIn and Hanayo were…” Honoka scratched her head.
“Oh, Rin went and told Maki…”
Honoka snorted, “And Nico thought I was going to be the one spoiling the surprise. I can keep a secret.”
“I knew I could count on you." Aki patted Honoka's hand, "Muse really benefited from your leadership.”
Honoka reached into the box she’d placed on the table and pulled out a daifuku, “Nah, we decided not to have a leader. Or Eli would have been if she’d joined earlier.”
Aki opened another box, “Ooh, sakura mochi. Thanks, Honoka-chan, you’re the sweetest.”
“Better eat them before Nico gets back. She never admits to having a sweet tooth, but Maki says she can never find a dessert after…” Honoka froze, suddenly remembering she was in a house full of cameras and Umi’s lectures on not revealing private details ever, but especially when visiting Idol House, especially about Nico, because EVERYONE wanted to know things about off camera, behind the scenes Nico.
“Are you making the birthday cake?”
“Me and Kotori always make the cakes.”
“That’s so sweet. I hope I find people who help me like you help each other.”
Honoka finished her bun, debating whether she wanted another or just the juice. “Well, now you know us.”
“That’s the most amazing…” Aki hugged herself, it really was amazing that THE Kousaka Honoka just bounced into the kitchen to talk about anything. She was never leaving Idol House. It was too exciting.
Juice, Honoka decided. “I guess I’ll see you next week for the party. I’ll have to get Umi to remind me.”
“Just give me your number and I’ll text you.”
“Sounds good.” Honoka bumped her phone against Aki’s.
BACK TO THE RIN PANA BEDROOM
Rin’s phone played "Start Dash". “It’s Honoka. She wants to know what time she’s supposed to bring the cake tomorrow.”
“Maki’s party is in two days.”
Rin typed rapidly, “Yeah, I’m telling her.” Rin read the reply and whistled, “She says Aki-san says Nico moved it to tomorrow because I ruined the surprise.” Rin’s chartreuse cat eyes were wide as she stared at Hanayo, “I didn’t ruin the surprise.”
“No.” Hanayo glanced at the screen where the studio team was discussing Aki’s sudden interest in Maki, “Oh no!”
“Oh no?” Rin asked quizzically, then shouted, “OH NO!”
“We have to call Nico!”
“And Maki!”
Hanayo hesitated, “But if we do anything to mess up the show…”
Rin interupted, “If it’s a surprise party Aki throws, Maki will hate it.”
“Maki will hate it.”
Maki’s our friend, Kayo-chin. We have to tell her.”
Hanayo hummed, nodding, her fingers pushing into each other.
“Kayo-chin?”
“I’ll talk to Nico first.”
Rin frowned, then threw herself back into the pillows, “All right. But then I call Maki.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Rin grabbed the remote.
THE DAY BEFORE MAKI’S BIRTHDAY
Rin paced the clubroom, “Maki’s not in school, not answering her phone, not at the House.”
Hanayo glanced up from her phone, “Nico hasn’t heard from her either, but Nico hasn’t really been available.”
The club room door slammed open and Honoka fell in, followed by Umi.
“We have a problem.” Honoka annouced.
In contrast to Honoka's vibrating with concern, Umi sounded her most serious. “We have an opportunity, Honoka, to model proper behavior for our peers.”
Honoka grabbed snack bread out of her bag and tilted her chair back as Umi fussed at her.
“What do you mean?” Rin asked.
“You saw last night’s Idol House too and you know Aki-san is plotting something.” Hanayo sped through her words as she connected clues.
Umi settled very primly into her usual seat, ‘Yes, that was the final clue. Honoka had been bothered by a conversation she had with Kawano-san last week, suggesting Nico changed the plans for Maki’s birthday party.”
Honoka nodded, “It took me awhile, but there was something very weird about our conversation. So I asked Maki and Umi.”
“YOU TOLD MAKI ABOUT THE PARTY!?!” Hanayo squealed.
Honoka shrugged, “Rin would have ruined the surprise anyway.”
Rin got to her feet, hand slapped to her heart, “Rin can keep secrets.”
Hanayo smiled fondly at Rin, “We know, Rin.”
“Honoka is just deflecting blame for having spoiled my surprise party last month.” Umi tapped the table.
“UMI!”
“Hah!” Rin pumped both fists in the air.
Umi reined in the mood, “Rin, Honoka, please control yourselves. We need to make a plan.”
Hanayo slid her chair from the computer screens to the table, “What do you want us to do, Umi?”
IDOL HOUSE, EVENING BEFORE MAKI'S BIRTHDAY, AS KAWANO AKI SETS UP A PARTY
“Shizu-chan, can you go see if Maki-chan is ready to take a break? I bet she’s been working all day.”
“Maki-san is not here today, Aki.”
Aki leaned away from the banner she was hanging. She’d had a makeover session with a stylist that ran late and started setting up the party as soon as she got back to the House. “I thought you had a recording session this afternoon.”
Shizu smiled, “I had to reschedule.”
“Oh, I wonder if she’s…”
“AKI-SAN!” Honoka bounced in, waving, “That’s such a cool banner. I brought a cake.” Honoka carefully placed a box on the kitchen counter.
“That’s great, Honoka. Just give me a minute and I’ll take a look. If Maki-chan’s not here…”
“Maki is not here.” Umi announced, as she placed a laptop and projector on the table, “And since you find yourself with free time, we have a wonderful opportunity to discuss why integrity is the foundation of success in any industry or situation.”
“Um.” Aki got down from the step ladder, looking confused.
“Unless you have an objection, Kawano-san?” Umi’s expression was tightly masked anger, but her voice was sickly sweet. Aki suddenly felt nervous.
“Of course, not, Sonoda-san.” Aki bowed, as Honoka nodded approvingly, “Please teach me.”
“Take a seat.” Umi pointed to a specific seat, in case Aki mistakenly thought there were options.
“And then cake and karaoke, right, Umi-chan? Rin-chan can’t beat my score…”
“FIRST, Honoka, we watch the presentation. Attentively.”
“Right.” Honoka suddenly hoped Umi would dim the lights so maybe she could take a quick nap. Rin had been smarter, deciding to show up AFTER the lecture.
Umi smiled at Aki, “Feel free to take notes.”
KYOTO, AFTERNOON OF THE DAY BEFORE MAKI’S BIRTHDAY
Nico hadn’t heard from Maki since yesterday lunch and after texting with Hanayo this morning, she was worried. But Honoka had texted that she and Umi were taking care of it, so Nico didn’t just walk off the set. It was too early in her career to be anything but cheerful and helpful no matter how many cute girls were trying to hijack your fiancée’s birthday party. It was always too early in your career, but right now, Nico was working especially hard to build a reputation as flexible, dedicated, and professional.
The Kyoto temple setting was almost beautiful enough to take her mind off Maki. Nico watched blossom full branches bounce gently in the wind, creating a gorgeous floral tunnel through the red torii gates of the shrine. The pink and white against the red was breathtaking and Nico watched the video crew set up, excited to be filming here. And then a flash of moving red caught her eye, a smiling redhead in a soft pink and white floral dress, a long sky blue coat open, walking confidently through the gates. A hallucination? A dream? No, Nico shook her head, watching as Maki reached up with an easy grace to let her fingers glide through the silky blossoms as she neared, a vision of earthly beauty touching on divine, the jewels on her engagement ring glinting in the sun. Sweetness, confidence, and poised beauty demanded Nico’s immediate approach. Nico had to stop herself from running, but she lifted her kimono skirt so it wouldn’t impede power walking.
“Hi, Nico-chan. You blossom.” Maki offered her hand. Nico wondered if this was actually a scene from a movie, rather than the ordinary, daily life of Yazawa Nico, aspiring super celebrity idol and number one producer in the universe. But whatever this was, she caught Maki’s hand in hers and pulled today’s gorgeous surprise gift closer.
“Hi, Maki-chan. People are looking for you. In Tokyo.”
Maki’s eyes widened with fake innocence and she spoke in the tone Nico had come to recognize as indicating Maki had done something she thought clever. “But I’m here.”
“Why are you here?”
Maki continued smug, using her explain math to Cocoa voice, “It’s my birthday tomorrow, Nico-chan.”
“Nico knows. We had a surprise party all set up.”
Maki shrugged, other hand in her coat pocket, glorious amethyst eyes glowing as she glanced up at the fragrant cherry blossoms surrounding the path, casually leading Nico away from the crew. “I wanted to be here." Maki looked straight into Nico’s lustful heart and winked. "It’s scenic.”
Nico still had Maki’s hand and she pulled the redhead to a stop, her wooden geta adding enough height that she could peck Maki on the cheek easily. “Nico didn’t notice until now.”
Maki nodded, pleased at Nico’s attentiveness, and continued her steal Nico away stroll, “It was nice of you to reserve the Suite Tsukimi at the Ritz Carlton for us, Nico-chan. There’s a private moon viewing deck and a Japanese garden.” Maki giggled. “It’s exactly the kind of place I’d want to spend my birthday.”
Ah, Maki had been planning this long before the surprise parties. Nico chuckled, swinging Maki’s hand. “Of course, Nico knew that.”
“Of course. Nico knows everything.” Maki checked to make sure they were out of view of the shrine and pulled Nico in for a hug, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Maki-chan.”
“I’m proud of you.” Maki stepped back, sounding pleased and worried, “And you look so cute in your kimono. Maybe I should have worn one?”
“No.” Nico flipped Maki’s gossamer skirt gently, enjoying Maki's slight shiver at the contact, “You are perfect.”
Maki blushed, both hands going back to her pockets,
“Nico plans to show you how perfect as soon as we wrap up here.” Nico's voice was soft, but certain.
Suddenly eager, Maki pulled a bag out from behind her back. Nico hadn’t noticed the strap over her shoulder, “I brought my Fuji. Will they mind if I take some pictures of you?”
“Sure. Nico will make sure no one bothers you. Take some of the the cherry blossoms too. This feels like a blessing.” Pleasure bubbling through contentment, Nico held out her arms and spun, “Nico knows there will be gray days, and no sleep days, and no gorgeous surprise visitor days, but today, Nico wants to keep this all close to remember.”
Maki had her cell phone out and Nico heard the soft click, as Maki whispered, “Yeah.”
Nico glanced at the screen. She hadn’t noticed the drifting petals or how the dappled white pink of the kimono made her look like a cascading charm of blossoms against the red of the gates as she smiled sweetly up at the bright blue sky, but Maki had caught all that. “You’re showing promise, Nishikino." Nico announced with a playful gruffness, "You can take all of Nico’s promotional pics.” Nico pushed into Maki’s shoulder, “And write all of Nico’s hit songs.”
“Would that make your life easier or mine?”
Nico laughed, shrugging, grabbing Maki’s waist to pull her in for a bold kiss, “Ours. Happy Birthday, Maki. Spend them all with me. Just like this.”
“Well, that was my plan.” Maki tapped the ring she'd given Nico, in case Nico needed a reminder.
“Marry a smart girl, that’s Nico’s advice.”
“But I want you.”
Nico frowned, Maki laughed and claimed her own kiss, “Sorry, Nico-chan, you’re just so cute when you're aggravated.”
“Nico might decide to do the SMART thing and spend the evening comparing her career options before catching up on her sleep, alone. It might be good for Nico’s complexion.”
Maki pouted. Nico didn’t let her sulk long, It was too bright a day.
“Or maybe Nico will try out a local honeymoon spot she’s heard so much about.”
Maki stepped closer, her scent a light musk in this celestial, floral heaven, her eyes so bright Nico would swear there were flickering flames in the faceted depths, “I could help.”
“Nico would need help.” Nico licked her lips, feeling the pull that always drew her in, Maki tilting her head, a look of surprised wonder just waiting to bloom.
As their lips resealed, with crackling fireworks, their bond and their hands found each other by instinct, Nico felt as if blossoms, pink and perfect, carving in soft sweeps and swallows the shape of Maki’s lips, were bursting, tingling, through her skin. Love, this love, sakura soft in this Spring, was going to turn Nico poet. And Maki was going to get Nico fired. Nico heard footsteps approaching, someone muttering Yazawa-san.
“I have to go, Maki-chan.” Nico forced herself away, It got more difficult with every caress that brought them closer.
Maki’s smile was another sun on this bright, blessed day as she raised her camera in salute, “I’ll keep my eye on you.”
Perfect dreamfuel.
A/N: I appreciate your patience with the delay in my other ongoing stories, but I feel like I've had a much needed reboot by revisiting this AU. Added bonus: it's fun to fanfic travel on a Nishikino Maki budget.
Happy Birthday to the gloriously grumpy, fabulously kind Nishikino Maki!!! And thank you to everyone I've met here who shares an affection for these lively and silly idols. I hope this brightens your day. Take care!
#NicoMaki#Happy Birthday Maki#Nishikino Maki#Yazawa Nico#Idol House#RinPana#Koizumi Hanayo#Hoshizora Rin#Sonoda Umi#Kousaka Honoka#Terrace House inspired#fluff#Kyoto#Cherry blossoms#Sakura#Spring#Love Live School Idol Fest
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Post #63, MarDe Brooks--Running Out of Time
Reviewed by Lyssa Culbertson
“Way back on the radio dial The fire got lit inside a bright-eyed child Every note just wrapped around his soul From steel guitars, to Memphis, all the way to rock and roll” -Eli Young Band
Every time I hear “Even If It Breaks Your Heart” by the Eli Young Band pass through my playlist, my mind cannot help but wander to the trajectory HHMR alum MarDe Brooks has had over the past couple of years. It is impressive what an ample amount of hard work, determination, faith, and if we are honest, an iota of craziness will manifest when it comes to chasing dreams. If you are unfamiliar with MarDe’s story, let me fill you in:
The Alabama born and bred singer-songwriter recently released his debut album, Running Out of Time, after a lifetime of desire to share his musical gifts with the world. Perhaps the album title is a nod to the notion of growing older and time slipping away, leaving you with no choice but to shelve your dreams or take a chance and live them with all you’ve got—but MarDe need not worry. With the impeccable artistry he possesses and a knack for heartfelt, honest songwriting, we’ll be hearing more out of him for years to come. With an practically permanent smile as wide as the Rio Grande and an electric energy radiating from him every time he steps on stage, he possesses an often unmatched zeal for his work that will surely keep him on everyone’s radar. His sound is as eclectic as he is, and that is the utmost compliment in my book. As I said in the review of his first single, “Memories,” MarDe cannot be caged by a genre, for this powerhouse of a songbird sings to the tune of whatever is in his heart—whether that’s a slow sentimental ballad about life on the road, or a rockin’ up-tempo song about love gone wrong. Running Out of Time has something to love for everyone, but odds are you’ll love it from the beginning of the “Memories” you’ll make whilst listening, to the last “Curtain Call.” Answering the desires of his soul to create his own original music, the collection of ten songs were written and composed in just under a year, and within the next year the record was recorded and MarDe hit the highway sharing his stories with anyone who would listen. On September 11, 2020, he added fuel to the fire that got lit inside the bright-eyed child of his youth when he debuted his first album to the world.
When listening to this record both as a whole and dissecting each individual song, it’s quite easy to hear the various musical influences that have helped shape MarDe into the artist he is. However, he infuses those notes of blues, old time rock-and-roll, country, southern rock, folk, and more into sound all his own. The first track on the record, “Memories,” incorporates all of these styles in a up-beat tune set against a bit of a dark subject matter. A failed relationship takes its toll and leads to self-destruction, but if you only listen to the melody, you wouldn’t have a clue. I love how MarDe plays a lyrical and musical trick on the listener’s ear on this one, and it was a solid first choice for a single release, as it showcases both his songwriting ability and musicality. Heading to the opposite end of the romantic spectrum, the next track, “Slow Time,” is a beautiful ballad that will transport you back to a time to when life ran at a slower pace, perhaps on the riverbank next to a loved one watching the summer clouds roll in, where nothing but the love you were in mattered. Speaking of rolling in, “I’ve Got Memphis” is one of the standouts on the record, as it details the feelings of a traveling musician counting the miles wearing on both the road and his soul. As a music lover with a heavy dose of Gypsy in my soul, when MarDe sings “Oklahoma calls out to me, and I miss that Kentucky high, I’d love to stay in Alabama, but I’ve got Memphis tomorrow night,” it resonates with me on a spiritual level. I love the sound of four wheels spinning down an open highway, but occasionally every mile marker makes me weary and I just want to be home, though there’s always another show down the road and work to be done. It’s a sentimental tune about the highs and lows of this life and is just so powerful. Track number four, “Down the Road,” happens to be one of my favorites off the record—it’s a total jam with an infectious groove that just won’t let go, much like how he bemuses the difficulty of letting go of his beloved and moving on in the tune. The way he once again juxtaposes an upbeat melody with a somewhat somber subject matter intrigued me from the first verse of the song, and I was hooked. We’ve all been there—in love with someone that it kills us to let go of, though we know we’re better off leaving them in our rearview. I admire how MarDe can write about real life situations with such clarity and cleverness.
As evidenced by the previous tracks mentioned, MarDe has such a versatile voice where one moment he can have you high on life singing along and the next morose and feeling every bit of heartache his vocals are seeped with on a song like “Home,” one of the most compelling works on the album. The imagery is quite vivid, as you can easily picture the man in the song with his “hands on the sink, face down to the floor” ruminating over his life. As I’ve listened to this song, it dawned on me that the character in the song was not simply speaking to a lost lover, but to the man in the mirror as well, because all too often we can break our own hearts by our choices with the aid of the demons we face. For many, alcohol can be one of those demons; however, as shown by MarDe’s joyful vibes in “Fifth by Noon,” sometimes it can be just the cure a man needs to patch up a broken heart. This tune is my favorite to see performed live because of the energy MarDe harnesses as he brings the song to life. A little ditty about the healing powers found in a fifth of your favorite whisky and good friends, the line “everything will be alright if I down a fifth by noon” has the possibility to become an adage for centuries to come. Likely not the wisest piece of advice, but one most can certainly empathize with if we’re honest. When he sings “I used to lay you down like Conway at night, but now you’re out there girl and you’re making different music tonight, so here’s an idea, why don’t you stay, yeah that’s where you made you made your bed and that’s where you can lay” it’s loud and clear how he feels about the woman in question—and I’m absolutely here for it. Such a killer, feisty verse that makes me cackle as I belt it out every time! The guitar solo prefacing the semi-acapella portion of the song backed by a chorus of voices and a drumline are my favorite parts of the song because it drives the point home and is so fun to jam out to.
Reflecting back on the record to this point, it’s easy to see the thematic presence of sorrow woven throughout the lyrics. Despite the best efforts we tend to put into anything in life, what we deserve is not always what the universe sends our way. Track number seven, “Earned,” is a prime lyrical example of that fact, especially in relation to futile relationships we may feel that we got the short end of the stick in, so to speak, because “even if you do things the right way, you don’t always get what is earned.” A heart is a fragile thing, and love is even more delicate, as heard in “On My Way.” MarDe croons “rules are made to be broken, but hearts aren’t the same, so many words left unspoken, could have silenced the pain” to a lover he’s leaving behind—and that is such a poignant line about the importance of communication. Quite frequently, it’s the words we do not say that could salvage important connections or bring closure to difficult goodbyes. His voice is soft and melodic on this tune, highlighting every bit of emotion involved, notably when he sings in the bridge “I couldn’t see through the flames when I promised my life, but all that smoke cleared just in time.” Every time I hear that particular lyric a single tear escapes my eye because I’ve lived that line and the emotions connected are just so painful—It hurts so good.
Although words sometimes possess the power to save relationships, they also have the power to destroy them. In the case of “Liar,” MarDe appears to be addressing a friend or mentor, rather than a past lover. “Your lies won’t let you tell the truth, you looked down on me, I looked up to you, you dig your hole try to pull me in the ground, you had your chance but it’s all over now”—WOW. In spite of the rather calm melody, the anger and disappointment boils over in every verse of this good riddance themed song, as he’s “on [his] way to the top now, and you can’t slow [him] down.” I often lightheartedly—but seriously—joke that people should not do wrong by a songwriter, because a song will inevitably be written about the offense, and “Liar” is a prime example of that, tying into the seemingly autobiographical journey MarDe details in the final song on the record, aptly titled “Curtain Call.” It’s a beautiful summation of his ride from the aforementioned bright-eyed dreamer of his youth to the man he is now, steadily achieving lifelong goals—while the highs and lows ebbed and flowed and it wasn’t always easy, the journey was without a doubt worth it, as evidenced by the quality and ultimate success of his first release.
MarDe either wrote or co-wrote every song on Running Out of Time and rounded up a group of gifted musicians to record the album at Rose City Recording in Charleston, WV with producer Greg McGowan. With a heavy dose of the keys, the lead/rhythm guitar, mandolin, violin, bass, drums, and pedal steel played by (in no particular order) musicians Jerimiah Hatfield, Joey Lafferty, Mark Cline Bates, Jeremy “Wood” Roberts, Eric Robbins, David McGuire, Molly Lynn Page, Travis Egnor, and MarDe himself, this record is a unique work of art, reflective of the array of musical styles that encompass the artist MarDe Brooks is. The support from background vocalists Ritch Henderson, Eric Robbins, Jerimiah Hatfield, and Mark Cline Bates adds a spark to each track they are featured on. My only critique of the record is that you cannot truly hear the extent of the passion and range MarDe possesses behind his vocals, as that essence can only be captured live—which is why you must catch him a live show, soon! You can find tour dates, merch, and other important info at www.mardebrooks.com, or you can follow him on Facebook at MarDe Brooks and on Instagram at @mardebrooksmusic.
Peace, love, & music,
Lyssa
————————
*This is an independent review. The Hillbilly Hippie Music Review was not compensated for this review.
*The opinions expressed are solely that of the author(s).
*These images are not ours, nor do we claim them in any way. They are copyrighted by MarDe Brooks & Jimbo Valentine of Amalgam United.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Digital Marketing Role in 2020 Updated
The advanced showcasing scene is continually changing as it develops with new innovation. Thusly, new patterns, strategies and instruments are presented from time to time, permitting organizations to all the more likely take into account the requirements of purchasers on the web and disconnected.
I firmly accept that the accompanying three patterns will undoubtedly pick up practically hazardous prevalence in 2020.
1. Simply Say It: The Rise Of Voice Searches And Digital Assistants
As CEO of a computerized showcasing organization, I have foreseen the blast of voice search as right on time as 2017, which ended up being valid. This year, specialists foresee that voice search will include half everything being equal, paying little heed to the gadget utilized.
Voice scans satisfy the buyer requirement for desperation. The present customers have become restless, since they've got familiar with the instantaneousness offered by their cell phones and the web. This has changed their desires for brands, and they request quick, consistent encounters across advanced stages.
Focusing on voice inquiries advances your site for highlighted pieces and zero-click look also. Most advanced partners just read back the top section on the outcomes page, and rich scraps for the most part involve "position zero."
Voice look have changed attributes contrasted with composed inquiries. We utilize the accompanying properties when arranging the voice inquiry enhancement procedure for our customers:
• Voice look through utilize normal language and inquiries rather than watchwords. While doing a voice search, individuals ask as they would typically talk. The outcomes are questions like, "What's the temperature in Phoenix today?" These progressions your catchphrase look into. Rather than a series of words, focus on question-based inquiries.
• Create content that straightforwardly answers the inquiry. The "Individuals Also Ask" box on web crawler results pages (SERPs) gives you a look at different requests identified with the first question. You can likewise answer these in your substance to give more an incentive to the peruser.
• Apart from focusing on question-based hunts, keep your tone conversational. Google's most recent calculation update, BERT, lets the web crawler comprehend the setting of searches as opposed to criticizing the individual words. This implies Google would now be able to process characteristic language like nothing anyone's ever seen. Influence this new component by organizing clarity and straightforwardness in your duplicate.
2. Show, Don't Tell: Video Is The New King Of Content
Recordings and livestreaming were promoted by Facebook and YouTube, and these will just get greater this year. An investigation by HubSpot uncovered that generally 50% of clients need more video content from organizations they support.
The rising number of brands that tap influencers and vloggers likewise powers the notoriety of recordings. These characters will in general make increasingly close to home associations with watchers contrasted with articles, which is an enormous bit of leeway for advertisers attempting to fabricate associations with their crowds.
I'm not being hyperbolic when I state that YouTube is the second-greatest internet searcher. Along these lines, on the off chance that you don't utilize recordings for content showcasing, you are simply losing deals openings.
Until this point, my recipe for boosting commitment is to utilize recordings across channels (search, internet based life and PPC promotions). As far as I can tell, it's additionally fundamental to make significant, important recordings curated for your crowd. It's genuinely basic to see instructional exercise recordings and item demos on brand sites. They're more captivating than dividers of content, giving guests motivation to remain longer on your site.
Facebook, Instagram and YouTube have become mainstream for their livestream highlights. This is advantageous for gatherings, dispatches and any occasions you have. You can hold a live Q&A to interface progressively with your crowd, which is a successful method to pull in commitment.
Aside from web based life, recordings can likewise make connecting with advertisements for your PPC battle. Video promotions can show up on YouTube, the Display Network or on accomplice destinations. In-stream promotions, or the ones on YouTube and search, contact individuals in places where they're finding content.
Much the same as search and show promotions, you can control the focusing of your video advertisements. Ensure the stage coordinates your business and the hunt goal of the client.
3. Online networking: Going Beyond Likes And Shares
Online networking stages have extended their capacities, permitting clients to shop, structure gatherings, mess around and watch occasions continuously. I have experienced the standard change ordinarily since my first day right now. What's more, presently it's occurring once more. Along these lines, the "new dark" is to boost your online life procedure.
Facebook and Instagram now let clients shop on the stage itself. From commercial centres to stoppable posts, organizations never again need to think about how they can coordinate their online stores with their web-based social networking profiles. Social business, or purchasing items straightforwardly through internet based life promotions or posts, isn't altogether new. In any case, it took off when Instagram Checkout propelled in 2019. The objective is to diminish the quantity of steps for customers, giving a quicker checkout process. In addition, this declines the odds of deals relinquishment.
Web-based social networking likewise makes it simpler for you to perform social tuning in through online networks. In spite of the fact that estimation apparatuses stay accommodating, speciality online gatherings give increasingly precise knowledge into your optimal client's present concerns, needs and needs. I convey the significance of shut Facebook gatherings to every one of my customers. You can join the ones identified with your business, take part in conversations and draw in with different clients to all the more likely comprehend your market. Reddit and Quora are likewise successful stages for social tuning in.
These patterns show that advanced promoting has no indications of easing back down. In the event that anything, it will turn out to be much further developed to keep giving a superior computerized understanding to clients. This squeezes brands to adjust simultaneously to remain important to their business sectors.
With master direction, you can remain on top of things and meet the various needs of your crowd across computerized contact focuses.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mark and Georgia’s Big Trip
Chapter Thirteen – Gimme Shelter
Just like all of you, we’re still “sheltering in place” here in the Philippines. The infection rate over here remains relatively low, although in the back of our minds is the probability that there’s not nearly as much testing going on over here as back in the states. On the hopeful side, our town, Nasugbu (population ~140,000), today has only 9 confirmed cases, so we hope that with this and our remote location we have sufficient “distancing”. We still have to go through checkpoints to get into town on our specified days, wear masks at all times in town, etc.. The grocery store has a waiting area set up, with chairs 6’ apart; just a few are let into the store at a time. None of this is a major hassle if that’s what it takes to stay safe.
We’ve been getting out of the house, and getting our exercise, by taking walks every morning around the community. One thing we noticed is that we were seeing a lot of litter around our roads, mainly plastic bags, drink bottles, cans, cigarette cartons, but also everything from shoes to tires to umbrellas. So, we made ourselves “janitor sticks” (a pole with a nail stuck in the end, to pick up trash) and we’ve been collecting for a week or so, targeting a new road every day. After something of a record morning (picture below) I wrote a nice but firm email to the management here. This morning we were pleased to have a crew from the development join us. We’ll have the community litter-free in no time, although the emphasis of my letter was that we need to cure the problem, not just pick it up. We’ll see how they respond to that.
Jungle Arts and Crafts
No word from Georgia about the coconuts, so it’s up to me again.
Our friend Parker sent me some excerpts from a book, showing how to make and tune “boo” drums from a length of bamboo. There were two types detailed; I decided to try the simpler one first – just a length with one open end, and a ‘tongue’ cut partway up the length. The hardest part was harvesting bamboo of sufficient size; I wanted to get a piece 4-6” in diameter. There’s a lot of that around here but the problem is that something this large is also 60-80’ tall! I finally found a piece just under 4” that was partially down, still partly green, that I was able to get to and saw off a section with about 6 segments.
I picked a segment from the most dry end, and cut my piece. It was about 13” long, with one end closed. The book said that for this size you should start with cuts about 1/3 of the way in from the open end, and then tune the drum. Tuning involves matching the resonance frequency of the bamboo body with that of the tongue. The tricky part is that as you make the tongue longer (by cutting further in), the tongue’s resonance goes down while the body’s resonance goes up. I found that they cross very quickly! At first my tongue was quite a bit higher in pitch than the body, so I cut just a little further. Closer but not there yet so I cut just a little more. Now the tongue suddenly had a lower pitch than the body! To cure this the book says to remove some material from the end of the tongue, so I sanded off two small pieces. Oops, back the other way! To fix this now you remove some material from the base of the tongue. I decided to drill small holes there… and the body cracked! Oh well, no more annoying resonances!
For try #2 I used a piece of the greener end of my bamboo, still about the same diameter and length. Cut the first, conservative length tongue. The tongue had a slightly high resonance, so I cut just a teeny skosh more.
This time I think I got it, pretty close at least! Tapping on the tongue gives a nice smooth tone, none of the harmonics that were present when I was all over the place on the first one. I imaging this one’s resonances will change as it dries, so I’ll let it do that for a week or so and then try to fine-tune it. I’ll keep you posted.
Capiz
Way back in week 7 I showed some antique Capiz windows that we’d purchased. Well I finally hung them on the wall, outside our master bedroom. They look pretty nice I think on that otherwise big, empty white wall.
I mounted them about 1” off the wall, which gave me room to install a string of miniature, battery-powered LED lights. We think they look pretty cool at night!
Things That Will Kill You, vol. 2
This week I revisit last week’s “Thing…”. After seeing last week’s blog my cousin Dave asked about the ants so I decided to do a little research. I found that they are Weaver Ants (good article on WikiPedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weaver_ant).
These are quite fascinating little creatures, particularly in the way they build their nests. This takes some amazing teamwork between many, many ants, pulling together and even using ‘ant chains’ to span distances between leaves much longer than they are. When they manage to get leaves pulled together, they steal silk from their pupae to use as a glue. Here’s an old nest I found that I carefully cut open with scissors. Not very interesting inside (I suspect it would be quite interesting if the ants were still using it…) but you can see the white silk spanning between leaves (particularly bottom left).
It turns out that these ants are beneficial to us as well, and farmers with fruit orchards particularly like them as their menu is composed of other small insects. The minor damage they do to a tree is more than made up for by the harmful insects they consume. So, I’ll take these off my “10 deadliest” list (unless they build a nest at head height over my sidewalk again). This tree has some 10 nests, all at acceptable heights.
Sunset of the Week
As I mentioned last week, our sunsets have generally become “orange ball sinking into the ocean”. Always worth looking at, but not as spectacular as when we have just the right clouds. This week we did have one worth the SOTW title, with a higher-up cloud making an unusual sunset. This picture is about 15 minutes before the actual setting, with the sun behind the cloud and just about to peek below it. The sea is absolutely on fire; the sky below the cloud a vibrant orange.
After taking the picture above, I turned around and saw that the sunset had lit up the house with its orange glow. Who needs landscape lighting?
Have a good week everyone!
1 note
·
View note