#wooden busks

[you-get-me-closer-to-god]

Is somebody gonna match my freak? (Painting Astarion’s eye like an 18th century lover’s eye on a wooden busk that I can wear in my stays close to my heart)

[cheesus-doodles]

Letters

Yandere Rollo

Masterlist | TWST Masterlist

‎

i like my repressed christian boys a lot if yall can't tell ;-;, couldn't pass up on this....tr will be back on schedule next!

Rollo Flamme never imagined himself as simply ordinary. He had always been destined to be extraordinary, committed and focused, willing to put in the work to achieve perfection. Yes, there was no doubt that there were ways to go to meet his goals, seeing as his fire lily plan went up in flames on first contact with that wretched Malleus Draconia and his Night Raven buddies despite his months of meticulous planning and careful scheming.

Yet here he was, walking at a speed Rollo hoped didn’t divulge how fast his heart was pounding away, your letter carefully tucked away deep within his robes, pressed right up against his chest. Green eyes concentrated on nothing but his next step, his poker-face and overall reputation as the Student Council President a god-sent for keeping unwanted attention away as he cut a path through the school towards his room, hands clasped in front of him as they always were. 

Outside the gates of Noble Bell College, Fleur City was as lively as ever, the hustle and bustle of a city coming back to life under the gentle evening sun echoed throughout the conversely silent campus as people enjoyed busking in the remaining sunlight after a long day of work. It was an exceptionally cool day too, the white-haired boy noted to himself, the breeze sweeping down the hallways and bursting forth into the open air strong enough to lift the ends of his robes.

A respectful mumble of “Rollo-kaicho” rose from the scatter of students milling around as he walked past, though nothing that a returned nod of acknowledgement couldn’t settle.

The peacefulness that blanketed the stately campus as the sun sank further and further down the horizon reminded him much of the night of the Young Mage’s Social ball, and more so, you. Rollo could recall that particular evening with perfect clarity, the sights and sounds replaying again in his head as the purple-clad mage made his way indoors, the old wooden door swinging shut behind him with nay a creak, shutting out both the wind and the sounds of the city.

‎

His own footsteps were the only sound ringing across otherwise empty corridors as the boy turned the situation he had found himself unexpectedly stuck in over and over again in his mind. It had never been his intention to fall over his own set trap, yet how was it he did so anyway despite all his wariness and discipline?

This had all begun as a plot for revenge right after he had been bested, by villains no less. It would be hard for Rollo to even admit that he had come to terms with the beating he received several months ago, let alone the night after it happened, and his next plot had already begun to hatch the moment you swept into view dressed in your masquerade costume, accompanied by none other than Malleus himself. From everything he witnessed, it was clear that the Draconia housewarden cared greatly for you, and dare he guess, maybe even had some unexpressed feelings for you. 

Not that he hadn’t noticed you before that night, but it was certainly the first time that he had come to realize just how central a place you held among the Night Raven College students, and how crucial a card you would be in his next plan to wipe that smug smirk off of that wretched fae prince’s face.

The night of the Young Mages’ Social ball had been surprisingly ordinary, given what had just happened. He had been exhausted and dead on his feet, even if he showed no sign of it outwardly; the orderliness of the hall that he painstakingly cleaned after the last fire lotus had withered was a welcomed sight. Alas there was no time for sleep, not that it would matter given his already heavy eyebags. But despite his state, you had instantly caught his eye at the start of the ball, quietly huddled towards the back of the Night Raven group, trying your best to look anywhere but at him or at the rest of the crowd as you and your friends were singled out as the saviors of Fleur City. And it was obvious that you were feeling even more out-of-place as the dance began in earnest, though whether it was from the crowds or just general awkwardness, Rollo could not say.

Taking his leave from the merrymaking, the white-haired Council President could find no surprise within him when he found you sitting alone later outside of the hall, enjoying the peace and quiet that had fallen over the city with the arrival of night, looking up at the blanket of stars, a glass of what looked like juice in your hand.

“May I join you?”

You had jumped at his words, though you did settle quickly upon realizing it was just him for reasons unbeknownst to Rollo. “By all means,” you replied, waving him down to join you. After all, he did just try to essentially kill your friends and all mages in general. Perhaps you knew something he didn’t, the purple-clad student mused to himself, subtly watching you from the corner of his pale green eyes. Or perhaps you were just presumptuous, given you hadn’t been affected as badly as the rest.

The dark sky was clear of clouds, the dark of space dotted with twinkles as far as the eye could see, the moon hanging alone amidst the barren sky; an alluring sight for weary souls - and judging from how discreetly you had excused yourself from the social, you definitely were tired. 

A pause as Rollo took a seat a respectful distance from you. “Too much?”

You nodded. “Too much.”

Whatever it was, you seemingly held no ill will towards Rollo, simply accepting his quiet company. And so the two of you sat in comfortable silence as the young mages danced and laughed the night away just a stone’s throw away. The minutes melted into hours as the world continued to turn, though the calmness of the reality around him was a far cry from the turmoil of thoughts within his head. 

When the night started to grow old and the cacophony of noises began to die down, it was as if an unheard bell had gone off, and you reluctantly stood, empty glass now in hand - your friends were bound to come looking for you should they notice you were missing. And with you leaving soon and that night being the last one you were spending at Noble Bell College, it was finally time to launch the first phase of his plan.

”I would like to write to you,” Rollo started, immediately cringing internally as the words left his lips, but there was no going back now. “If it is alright with you.”

He held his breath as you considered his request, your head cocking to the side as you contemplated. “Sure, why not?” You shrugged, shooting him a light smile, your hair gleaming in the waning moonlight. “Goodnight, Rollo.”

Exhale. And that was that.

‎

But now here he was, Rollo mused, eagerly anticipating the opportunity to read your letter alone. Has his plan gone astray? He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts of you, just till he could be alone. For all his routine and self-discipline, you were the one temptation he couldn’t seem to get squash down.

Coming to a pause at the fork in the hallway, the Noble Bell Council President paused. The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted tonight in the midst of his much-needed analysis of your letter, so against the burning desires of his heart and the weight of your letter heavy in his robes, he forced himself to take a detour, his feet carrying him down sparse corridors towards the councilrooms. It was easy to spot his Vice President still hard at work amidst the otherwise empty room, scouring through a stack of papers at his desk, head down and pen scribbling away.

A quiet clearing of his throat was enough to get the attention of the occupant inside. “Rollo-kaicho!” Said student rocketed up from his seat, hurriedly adjusting his slipping striped cap. “What brings you here at this time of day?”

“I wanted to check in before I retired for the day,” replied the white-haired boy, giving a courteous glance to the rest of the unoccupied desks before returning his gaze to the other. “Is there anything I should know about?”

The Noble Bell Vice President stuttered for a moment, lost for words and wrecking his tired brain in an attempt to find what to say. “I-uh-“

Pulling out his celestial-patterned handkerchief, his movement just barely managed to cover the disgusted look that fell over his expression, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing as the stench of magic overwhelmed his senses, though Rollo still managed to keep his tone neutral. Even if he was the one to initiate contact, that hardly made a difference with his nausea. “It’s fine,” the magic-adverse mage managed to grit out without a hint of distaste, his tone as neutral as it always has been. “Please have the points ready for me tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Rollo-kaicho. I apologize again.”

‎

Finally being able to lock his room door behind him brought a relief much like cold water over hot iron, ending the depraved pulsing in his mind that the mere presence of the envelope in his robes against his chest brought on with every passing second. Tossing the heinous paper carelessly onto his well-worn table top, Rollo instead hurriedly picked it back up again, pale green eyes scanning for any further damage he had caused, though fortunately there was none to be found.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the white-haired boy settled into his chair. Now, to satisfy both his curiosity and anticipation.

Trembling fingers carefully peeled open the envelope, revealing a slightly yellowed, unevenly folded paper much to Rollo’s chagrin - he would have much preferred if you used a perfect white piece of paper, quality stationery instead of this random piece you must have had left over from your homework, and if you had folded it the same way he did all this time. But he supposed he couldn’t expect that high a standard from you, given the riff-raff of mages you found yourself in the company of. As he gently freed your letter from its paper enclosure, his sensitive nose caught a whiff of a familiar scent, the smell probably having lingered on from when you first mailed it out.

The light fragrance of your favorite shampoo, Rollo deduced, bringing the paper up to his nose. He recognized it, no matter how faint it was. You must have just finished showering when you wrote and sealed the letter if the aroma still endured. A breath of fresh air amidst the rank odor of magic and mages.

And then he began to read.

Dear Rollo, the letter began as it always did, those two words enough to have his heart skip a beat like nothing else could. But this time, the next few that followed were even better. Your letter came late, and it was sorely missed.

Line by line, you spelled out your daily ongoings, your interactions with your fellow schoolmates, your inner thoughts. Rambling about anything and everything that came to mind, thoughts spilling out without filter straight onto paper. About how Grimm (that filthy magic cat) nearly failed his test again and about how Deuce and Ace got into their latest spat of trouble with their housewarden Riddle. About how Jack and Epel were like to work with on your history project, and how you felt about one of your lunches being stolen by Leona.

Just like that, the minutes slipped through his finger, and with a pang in his heart, Rollo came to the end of your letter.

He placed the paper down on the paper, taking a breath.

How was it that he could feel so attached to another person through a simple piece of paper? How did you ensnare him so effortlessly, bypassing his hard-fought discipline as if it didn’t exist? Did all this mean that his revenge plot against Malleus had already gone awry?

‎

The night was cool and quiet, the moonlight that shone through his stained glass windows bringing the Noble Bell Council President back to that fateful night. A light gust of wind seeped in through a small crack, creaking the old wooden panels in the floor as it blew through his room. 

Your writing had improved, Rollo noted, as per his guidance in his previous letter. You were using a ruler to ensure straight lines, and your handwriting had neaten greatly; a far cry from your first reply to him, the memory of those scrawling letters that ran up and done and every-which way except straight across the paper still causing shivers to run down his spine. That was bad.

Carefully and painstakingly refolding the paper, Rollo stood, returning it to its envelope before moving to stow the letter within his secret compartment above the fireplace, with previous letters neatly arranged upright according to date received. His fingers lightly brushed past all your correspondence with him, his chest fluttering at your willingness to speak with him, his mind already churning with how and what he should reply to you. Would you be interested in perhaps coming back to Noble Bell? Maybe he should visit Night Raven College? Even if that blasted Draconia was there, it would be worth it just to have some private, personal time with you, the white-haired mage calculated, his hand tapping an unknown rhythm across his desk that he now leaned against.

‎

There was no point in denying his obsession with you, not at this point - it had been awhile since you started to occupy his every waking moment and thoughts, and being as organized and detailed as Rollo was, he could pinpoint the exact moment when he began to spiral. Sure, his first letter had been full of nothings, meaningless pleasantries and stories that he polished to perfection over the course of a night of restlessness. But what he got back was your heart on your sleeve, your mind like an open book for him to pick apart and examine.

As things turned out, the more he picked, the more he found. Questions he sent always came back answered, with you evidently letting slip more than you intended to originally say, sometimes directly and sometimes when he read between the lines. 

A single line in your third reply to him was all it took to begin his unending slide. 

You were from a different world.

The more he sat on it, turning it around and round in his mind, the more his chest grew warm, and you began his center of focus. Even the mere passing pondering of what you were doing now was enough to grip Rollo’s entire being, to have his heart rate increase and his thoughts to jumble. After all, in this foul, tainted world, there could be no purer person than someone who came from a place where no magic exists.

You were perfection embodied. 

In a twist of fate, you turned out to be pure, a shining beacon amidst the foul-smelling heathens. A gift from the heavens, a blessings from the divine meant for none other than him, that no one could properly appreciate except for him. Sure you weren’t the most orderly, and you did have your moments where you were occasionally wowed by magic, especially the inhuman feats from that wretched Malleus Draconia, but you remained untainted despite your constant proximity to the taint of magic that surrounded and cloaked you as if a heavy fog. Never indicated anything more than a passing interest in the magic that your companions wielded and an admiration that Rollo was sure he could rid you off. All you needed was time away from those mages, spent instead in his company.

‎

Stepping away from his desk and moving now towards his personal bathroom, Rollo came to the answer he had been looking for as the boy moved to undress himself for a nighttime shower. It had been in front of him all this time.

The answer was no. 

No, he hadn’t forsaken his plan to wield you against Malleus; sure the exact details had changed as the months went by, but everything he did was as he had schemed. Just that now, you didn’t have to be a means to an end, you didn’t need to be just another casualty wrecked up amidst his crusade against the villains. Stealing you away from the fae prince would be one of the largest blows he could deal with to that condescending prick, the beginning of his downfall - the excitement tingling at Rollo’s arms as he imagined the crestfallen expression that would twist Draconia’s face, the streak-free bathroom mirror reflecting the pale green eyes that lighted up in callous pleasure.

It would be glorious.

But for now, Rollo determined, schooling his face back into its usual neutral look as he turned to step into the shower room, what he needed to concentrate on was his next letter to you.

[spinelskyes]

i’m so stupid in love with you !

ft. chongyun, gaming, venti, xiao warnings: gn! reader wc: 0.3k a/n: i need someone to act like this with me fr teehee

lovesick chongyun, who turns impossibly red whenever you’re around, and who immediately searches his pockets for a popsicle to calm himself down. ah– look, is that steam coming out from his ears? might be your fault, then, because you told him ‘good morning’ with such a radiant smile! give him a couple minutes to recompose himself, then maybe– just maybe, if he can gather enough courage, he’ll look you in the eye.

“hey, um… do you want a popsicle? i got an extra.”

lovesick gaming, whom you quite nearly call ‘mother’ because of how devoted to caring for you he becomes. you complain of the heat? he’s already putting down a plate of freshly sliced apples– never you mind where he got his supplies from! don’t forget to hydrate, or he’ll be whining in your ear about how horrible it is to your body. want a break from his mothering? just say you’re hungry.

“you’re hungry? wanna grab some dim sum? ooh, wait, maybe we can get some char siu!”

lovesick venti, who thinks of every excuse to cling onto you, rambling on and on about the random things he saw while busking. who fills multiple notebooks with sonnets and poems, always with you as the muse. who sighs dreamily as he stares into his reflection in his wooden tankard, his mind replaying that moment of you smiling at him so brightly. (diluc groans, mentally bracing himself for the long night ahead.)

“hey, hey, did you know? they said hello to me today! i win!”

lovesick xiao tries to hide it– and fails. resorts to disappearing in a wisps of anemo every time he gets flustered. yes, even if only the tip of his ears turned red. he’s content with just watching you from afar, like a silent guardian protecting you from any harm. from what verr goldet tells the inn’s guests, there’s always one spot on the topmost floor he frequents, only if you’re there with him.

“you made this almond tofu? for me? …thanks. it’s not bad.”

© spinelskyes. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way.

[arsenicflame]

steddyhands modern au inspired by this post:

(1828 words, themes of kink but nothing explicit, established blackhands & gentlebeard-centric. Happy Pride!)

Stede picks up leatherworking in the wake of his divorce. He's not exactly sure how it ended up being such an important hobby for him, only that he had always admired the intricate designs on his horse's best bridles, and with little else to do with his time, he decides to give it a go.

It's rocky going at first, but he's having fun working with his hands for the first time in his life, and there's a sense of satisfaction in seeing the design come to life as he works. With practice, his skills improve, and he learns how to make things that are truly one of a kind.

He starts off posting his pieces online, as a way to reach fellow enthusiasts, but quickly finds himself with a rather large audience. Stede’s style is unique, and, after many requests from his followers, Lucius encourages him to make some more basic pieces he can sell. It's not about making money for Stede, but another way to meet new people who share his interests- as Lucius keeps telling him, it's sad that his personal assistant is the main person he talks to these days. 

So Stede sets out on a new adventure, and has quite the time designing a new range of patterns for the market. He makes purses, belts, bracelets, and, most importantly, dog collars- all still with his unique designs embossed into them, of course. He rents a booth at his towns monthly craft fair, and very quickly finds himself with a new group of friends in the other regulars- Pete, his usual neighbour, who sells an array of wooden figures he carves, Roach, who runs a stand for his bakery, and Frenchie, who isn't actually a stallholder, but is almost always busking near his friend Wee John’s stand of knitted goods, bringing life to the market even in the pouring rain. There's also Buttons, another regular at the market. Nobody is exactly sure what he does there- he doesn't sell things, or seem to buy anything either, but rain or shine, he's there with the birds.

Stede’s been doing this a few months by the time June rolls around. As he's setting up his stand, he notices that the area is much busier than it’d normally be at this time of morning. Lucius, who got roped into helping run Stede’s stall somewhere down the line (despite his protests that this is not what personal assistant means… But hey, he got a boyfriend out of it, at least), reminds him that there's the parade today, too- not realising that Stede had no clue there was a parade today, and especially not that it was pride. Stede immediately jumps to fretting about the amount of stock he’s brought, and Lucius takes the cue to escape, saying he’ll go and grab them coffee (but really, he's off to flirt with Pete)

Lucius is still missing when Ed stumbles across the little leather stall. Stede’s just ran back to his car to fetch his last boxes of inventory, and by the time he returns, Ed’s already begun to narrow down his choices. Stede greets him, starting to tell him that they're not actually open yet, but before he gets more than a couple of words out, Ed’s exclaiming “You're a Kiwi!!!”

The two of them smile at the shared recognition, and Stede says he’ll make an exception, just for Ed, and asks him what exactly he was interested in. Ed tells him that he's looking for a collar “for his boy”, and points out the particular design he was looking at. It happens to be one of Stede’s favourites from this latest run of work, a fact he mentions to Ed. It leads them into a discussion about Stede’s craft, and Ed’s Izzy, and then everything in between. Ed’s listening intently to the things Stede’s telling him, completely drawn in by the process, and by Stede himself. He watches as Stede stamps Izzy's name into the collar, and Stede even lets him have a go at one of the stamps. 

Lucius reappears sometime in the middle of this- only to immediately retreat again, seeing Stede engrossed with Ed. He sets up camp at Pete's booth opposite, watching this man flirt intensely with his boss- and Stede flirt back just as hard. Does Stede even realise he’s doing it? Lucius had known Stede was gay since before Stede even admitted it to himself, but this is on a whole other level.

The pair stand there so long that Izzy comes to look for Ed- the two of them are manning a float on the parade with their crew, and it's past time for them to get geared up. He's already worked up, frustrated to have been left to set up everything alone, when Ed had just gone to see if he could get them both coffee. So maybe he's a bit of a prick, approaching with a brash “where the fuck have you been, Edward”, to which Stede brings the same energy, giving a bitchy “Ed! Do you know this guy?” Izzy tenses, ready to snap, but then Ed cuts in, excitedly telling Stede that this is “his Izzy!” Which confuses the hell out of Stede. 

Forgetting his earlier attitude, he asks Ed if he “really named his dog after his friend”, only to be met with confusion right back from Ed at where the hell Stede got the idea he had a dog from. Stede gestures at the bag with the collar in it, to which Ed has to tell him, “oh, no, that's for him.” Ed tells Stede that they're here to run a float for their local leather society, and while Stede is certainly shocked by what Ed’s saying, he's not finding himself… uninterested. It's simply that he’s never even considered any of this before, especially not that people would use the things that he made for this, but Ed sounds so enthusiastic about it all. He tells him about how his friends would love to see Stede’s work, about how classic leather gear is always so fucking boring- but not Stede’s stuff, no, Stede’s stuff is “fresh” and “fascinating” and unlike anything Ed’s ever seen before. 

Ed's enthusiasm is incredibly infectious, so when he invites Stede to come back to see their float, he readily agrees. It’s a concept Izzy’s less than enthusiastic about. He doesn’t really want to bring this man who’s dressed like he just walked out of a HOA board meeting to their kinky little corner of the world, but he is having a lot of fun watching Stede squirm, so decides not to raise a protest. He does demand he gets his long-overdue coffee first, though (Stede pays for it- as “compensation for him distracting Ed from his job”, he says, not giving Izzy a second to process before he's tapping his card)

By the time they return to the float, Fang, Ivan & Jim are waiting for them, all already geared up. Stede is stunned silent at the sight for about 5 seconds, before he starts actually looking at the quality of Jim’s harness, and proceeds to go off about the poor quality of the craftsmanship, about how the hardware is tacky and completely the wrong choice with this leather, how his “ten year old daughter could do a better job!!!” 

There's complete silence from the group, until Izzy, of all people, bursts into laughter at Stede’s audacity (and, the fact he was staring at Jim's tits completely unabashedly, like he hadn't even noticed them in the first place). Izzy's laughter sets Ed off as he tells the group about Stede’s misunderstanding- “you didn't say he was a person!” “I mean, he's my dog”- and soon everyone's having a friendly giggle at Stede’s mistake.

It's somewhere in the middle of the retelling that Ed remembers that this whole thing happened because he was buying Izzy a gift. After a moments fumbling, he presents Izzy with the collar-  It's a rich, deep black, embossed with a rolling pattern that resembles waves. It’s made from a firm enough leather to take the tooling, and to remind Izzy that he’s owned while he’s wearing it, yet still soft enough for long term comfort. Izzy's eyes immediately lock on to it, an unreadable expression coming over his face, and Ed turns it; first so he can really see the design and Izzy’s name embossed into it, and then so he can see the small “Ed ♥” on the inside of the collar, right over his swallow tattoo. 

“I did the heart,” Ed says to him softly, intended only for Izzy’s ears. Izzy's eyes flick up to Ed’s, and he raises his chin to give Ed the room to put it on. Ed buckles the collar around his neck almost reverently, a test of the tightness turning into a caress of Izzy's neck. It's a perfect fit.

It's as though something comes over Izzy; so twitchy and abrasive earlier, now silent, staring at Ed with a look akin to worship in his eyes. He obediently tilts his head for a kiss as Ed's fingers move to his chin- It's a sight to behold, and one that has Stede intrigued. He wants to know more about this lifestyle, and these men in particular. He wants to be the one to put that expression on Izzy's face.

The moment breaks as Ed and Izzy pull apart, and Ed calls for the crew to finish the last bits of set up. Izzy shakes himself a little before running off to bark orders again, but even still, there remains a softness to him that wasn't there before. 

Ed turns back to Stede with an apologetic smile, already obvious that he has to get going. Before he can speak, however, Stede jumps in -“My business numbers on the card in the box… I'll be around all day”- Ed’s smile turns more genuine at that, promising to stop by if he gets a moment, and that he’ll send his friend's Stede’s way- “if he wants that kind of business.” Stede says that he does, actually- that he's seen a whole new world already today, and, while he was a little taken aback at first, he can feel the passion Ed and his friends have for this life. If there's one thing that's ever mattered to Stede, it's other people's enthusiasm. Maybe he doesn't completely understand yet, but he would like to try.

One year later, Stede’s back at the market on pride weekend again, far better stocked for the crowds this time around. Lucius is finally free to spend the day flirting with Fang & Pete to his heart's content, now that Stede’s roped his own boyfriends into helping him run the stall- and into modelling the merchandise. Ed loves that part, while Izzy needs a lot more convincing, but the puppy eyes Stede & Ed weaponise against him make a very good argument.

[copperbadge]

[ID: A view looking east down the Via di Santa Maria del Pianto in Rome; it is a narrow street teeming with buildings and crowded with people. Visible on the left is an umbrella reading Hosteria Kosher, and visible on the right is the front of a Carabinieri patrol vehicle, which is providing security for the Great Synagogue just to the south.]

When I showed up on the street this morning, none of the chairs or umbrellas or people were out; when I went back for lunch it was super crowded, and I was pleased I'd made a reservation but also delighted to see the absolute masses of people out on the street enjoying food and shopping and chatting (you can't see the three-piece jazz trio busking nearby but I have video I may be able to share later).

While I suspect the Kosher offerings in Rome are very limited, in this particular street they're also off the chain:

[ID: The entryway of a very small restaurant called Daruma, which has red banners on either side of its open doors reading "Kosher Sushi".]

And the line you see in this photograph, with all the people holding umbrellas, is to get into the Pasticceria Boccione, where I got breakfast this morning. I just walked on in; apparently I went at the right time, because every time I've passed it since it's been like this.

[ID: A corner of the Via di Santa Maria del Pianto, showing a building with a plain wooden door set in an arch; the line to get into the little shop stretches all the way across the photo and into the dining area of a nearby restaurant.]

Well, the macaroons are worth it.

[acourtofthought]

She wanted to see if I was game for a walk about the city.

I might have felt guilty for never giving him a proper tour of Velaris, but … he seemed eager. More than eager—he seemed to be itching to head into the city on his own.

Elain had seemed more than content to simply watch the humming city, to take in the sparkling strands of faelights strung between buildings and over the squares, to sample any tidbit of food offered by an eager vendor, to listen to minstrels busking by the now-silent fountains.

Wandering the courts.

Elain had always wanted to visit the continent

Lucien had been there, Cassian recalled. Had gone with Nesta’s father to the lake where Vassa was held captive.

“Nesta won’t go, because she says she doesn’t want to risk the sea crossing, but you and I … Oh, we’d have fun, wouldn’t we?”

As if he could see the lake across a sea and a continent.

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”

“I’ll go.”/ “But I cannot sit here and do nothing / So use me. Send me. /

Still staring at the window, but she was out of her room.

Lucien stared out the window—as if he could see the lake

Elain only stared out the window, unaware—or uncaring.

(a lot of the characters look out the window throughout the series but only the phrase "stared out the window" is used in reference to Elain and Lucien. For the other characters, it seems they're looking out the window at something specific, to keep watch, to look at the garden, as a way to avoid meeting someone's eyes, but with Elain and Lucien it's like they're staring out the window, envisioning the world beyond).

Lucien, still by the window.

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street

Lucien silently slid into one of the chairs, before the window

Elain politely refused, taking up a spot in one of the wooden chairs set in the bay of windows. Also typical.

Lucien, standing near the windows and watching the sun set over Velaris,

seated in a small chair before the sunniest of the windows,

the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow.

Every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible.

sunlight on gold caught his eye—

and left our sister in her sunlit room.

beginning to glow with the light of day

“What can I get you, Elain?” But Elain shook her head once more. “Sunshine.”

The sun personified.

[thepersonnamedsam]

prologue

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

summary: where charles met loire for the first time

word count: 2.4k

warnings: none

note: i am sooooo excited for you to read this, i hope you are too

masterlist / taglist

The wind blew through her hair and made it hard for her to see. Her eyes were blinking fast trying to stay open. She breathed in and then out, closed her eyes for a second and opened them again to see the plaza before her. She looked at the people; there was a guy with a baby blue shirt on, his belly was huge and he was licking away on an ice cream. Next to him was standing a rather timid woman, her green maxi skirt was flowing in the wind and she looked at the man. Children were playing around and parents were sitting on the benches. Next to her was a young woman with shaggy dyed blonde hair. Her smile was huge and showed her withe teeth. In front of her was a cajon; a wooden box you could drum on. Next to her was her best friend Chelsea waiting to busk the place away.

The guitar in her hand was suddenly heavy. She felt the weight in her arms, how the strap did almost nothing to support the weight of the guitar. The microphone stood before her, long and proud and just waited to be used. The speakers, one on each side of them waited patiently, at least it seemed like it.

She brushed some hair out of her face and turned to look at Chelsea. Her eyes searched her green ones. „When do you think they’re coming? Shouldn’t they be here already“ Nervousness laced through her voice. She looked once more at the people, to see if anyone was waiting inpatient for them to start playing. Chelsea only shrugged - she wished she had her carelessness.

Chelsea was a woman who was never stressed, there was not a thing that could bother her - well actually maybe animal cruelty or body shaming or misogyny or homophobia or - you name it. But still, she was a young woman who was just living her life to the fullest.

„Don’t worry Loire, they’re coming“, Chelsea reassured her. She closed her eyes once again, trying to calm down. The breeze was loud around her ears, but she still heard the people talking. She also heard some pigeons or other birds making sounds. She heard the sea crashing against the shore, something she only heard if she really listened to it. Her ears perked up when she heard someone laughing - Milo! It was Milo who was laughing alongside Parker.

I swear to god, if they don’t show up with their instruments I will twist their heads around until it makes that god awful snap sound.

She opened her eyes to look around the plaza to find them walking towards her and Chelsea. Big smiles on their faces and their instruments. Milo carried their keyboard and Parker had his guitar on his back. No murder was going to happen.

Loire smiled when the two approached me them, she couldn’t hold a grudge against them even if she wanted to. They were her best friends, how could she ever be mad at them. Milo went and hugged Loire, whispering their apology in to her ear. When they moved to Chelsea and kissed her, Parker went up to Loire with a shit eating grin on his face. He didn’t even apologise for being late, he was always late and Loire knew that, but she always worried about them.

„Hello belle, how are you?“, he asked her after their hug. She glared at him, but the small smile tugging around her lips was a give away that she wasn’t actually angry.

They connected Parker’s guitar to the amp, the same with Milos keyboard and they were ready to jam. Expect that the moment Chelsea started counting down, Loire met the most gorgeous eyes she has ever seen; green and full of wonder and curiosity. The face that belonged to the eyes was just as handsome, if not more. His lips pink and curled to a light smile. The stranger looked at her just as much as she was looking at him. Her breath hitched as she realised that he was staring back at her.

The world stopped around her and it seemed like a ray of light was shining down on him. He stopped in his tracks and waited until they started playing.

What kind of romance novel is going on here?

Only then she realised that she was supposed to start singing. She looked apologetic at Chelsea and her other band members and they started again. The tunes of Whole Again by Atomic Kitten started to play. Loire closed her eyes once again, took a deep breath in and started to sing.

When Loire sang, she was in her own world. Nothing mattered and nothing was going on, just her singing and the feeling that music gave her. The tingles through her body and the warm sensation forming in her gut - music was her everything and there’s never gonna be anything that could top this feeling.

Charles was looking at the band. He should’ve already been at his mothers, his yearly haircut was due, but something drew him to them, no, something drew him to her. Her brown eyes, her curls and her smile. Everything he saw was just magnificent, there was no other word that could describe her. And when she started singing, god, he wanted to save her voice and let it play out when he couldn’t sleep. So smooth and easy to listen to. He too had to close his eyes for a moment, the sensation too overwhelming.

Her voice reached his ears and his brain turned the waves into hormones, emotions of you want. Emotions he hasn’t felt in a long time; happiness and love. Charles was content, even just for the moment. Content with his life, with his recent change from Alpha Sauber to Ferrari, he felt content the way his mum cut his hair and the way that Arthur was still cheering him on from the sidelines. Even though his life was mostly purely stressed and so, so heavy, in this moment he felt light. Her voice smoothed him out and whispered new life into his body.

He opened his eyes again, hers still closed. He tried to get a better look at her. He counted 47 freckles on her nose and cheeks, well only from afar. She had 7 loose strands, probably from all the wind. Her mouth moved with the words and he saw the slight gap between the two front teeth - so little, people mostly didn’t notice, but Charles did. He was fascinated by her. The way her arms were stretched out and moved with the music. The bat wings her sleeves created. The way she smiled at the lyrics and just sang carefree. Her body looked like she would start to dance any second - and he was prepared to dance with her.

The music stopped and she opened her eyes again, he was still shamelessly starring at her and she blushed. The rose colour slowly started to creep up her neck and finally reached her cheeks. Charles noticed how she couldn’t stand his gaze anymore. The drummer started to count again and Loire was mouthing something. Charles snapped out of his haze and listened to her words.

„Merci, thank you all for listening to us! We’re Jehanne and this is an original song.“

Loire risked a glance at the handsome stranger, only to realise that he was still starring at her. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. It almost raced. Why should this absolute god of a man stare at her? But there was no time to think such thoughts, as Chelsea already started the beat of their very first own song; Look at us now (Honeycomb). Chelsea wrote the song the evening she met Milo. She was head over heals for them. So that evening when she came home from her hike - where she met Milo - she wrote it down in ten minutes, ran over to Loire’s appartement and showed her the lyrics. Loire instantly had a melody in mind and grabbed her guitar.

It turned into a whole writing session. The two sat on the ground, Loire with her guitar in her hand and Chelsea with her pen and book in front of her. When Loire first sang the chorus, Chelsea started to cry, which she almost never did, well not in front of people. Loire knew it wasn’t a song to be sung alone, so she asked Chelsea who she wrote it about. And she told her about this person she met on her hike and how they looked so good but so shy at the same time. And how she went up to them and just chatted about the view and how they instantly clicked. The world was not moving the moment Milo and Chelsea met for the first time. Chelsea told Loire how Milo played the keys and how his friend Parker, who was struggling to move up the mountain, played the guitar and how they were looking for some people to jam. That’s when Loire knew, that she had to sing the song with Milo - and that they had to start a band.

Parker laughed when Milo told him about the idea Chelsea pitched them. Start a band with two complete strangers? Yeah, no. But Milo reasons with how Chelsea was their love of their life and how they would meet Loire either way. And how they could finally persuade their dream of playing music together. But Parker still only laughed, until he heard Loire sing for the first time. His reaction was similar to Charles‘ right now. Amazed and star struck. He instantly agreed. Loire gave Parker her chords to Honeycomb and they started to arrange them to fit his playing style. Chelsea and Milo started on the arrangement on the keyboard and after about two hours, they had a song worth recording.

„We unraveled a long time ago

We lost and couldn't let it go

I wish it was easy but it isn't so“, he heard her sing. And he felt the lyrics deep in his chest, even though he couldn’t place why he felt them, he still did. He saw her eyes scan the people around him, trying hard not to look at him. He saw how her eyes got stuck on a figure behind him. He slowly looked around and saw a young woman standing there and even though the temperature reached a high of 27°C that day, she was still wearing black jeans and a long sleeve. He turned back around to look at Loire, only to notice the watery eyes and the pain in her voice.

Loire didn’t think she would show up. She thought she would never see her again, after what she said to her. She thought Freya scrambled away and planned her getaway long before it all happened. And she was sorry, sorry for the way she spoke to her and sorry how she treated her. But she was glad she was there, it might be a good sign. A sign she would join the band again. But Loire didn’t want to get her hopes up, after all what she’d done.

„I swear to god Freya, grow the fuck up. Did you really think I would want to have a serious relationship with you?“ It was the last thing Loire said to Freya. It happened after they had made a demo and the last song they recorded was Honeycomb. Freya had asked Loire if the lyrics were about her, but Loire only laughed. She didn’t laugh because she found it funny that Freya would think that, no, she laughed because she thought she knew it was the love song for Chelsea and Milo. But Freya caught the laugh as a threat and now at something nice.

„You know what? Fuck you, Loire. I thought we had something, seriously, all the dinners and the kisses“, Freya screamed at Loire, deep in her heart she knew that her and Loire would never work out, that’s why it hurt much more as the reality became the truth.

In the end, everyone knew Freya would join the band once again, as she never really left it. She only had to find her calmness again before she could face the reality once again.

Charles sensed some uneasiness between the two, but forced himself to only pay attention to the singer in front of him. He ignored the ringing in his jeans. He ignored the looks and whispers he received. And he also ignored the time. The only thing that mattered was Loire. And as they finished their set, he was determined to talk to her. With long strides and a smug look on his face, he made his way over to her, but his facade all crumbled when she first smiled at him. His legs turned into pudding and his heart started beating. What does this woman do to him?

„Hi there“, she smiled at him. She wasn’t unfamiliar with people approaching her after a busking set, but this time it was different, this time it was Charles who approached her and not some people.

He smiled shyly at her and raised his hand to wave. She smiled at him in return. Charles wanted to open his mouth and say how much her voice touched him, but he just couldn’t find the right words. And as he finally had them laid out in front of him, he finally noticed the constant ringing of his phone in his pocket. He excused himself to answer the phone.

The voice yelled at him and even Loire could pick up a few words, such as; get down here, now! and, if you think you won’t get away with it, you’re wrong. He completely forgot his mission and took off. But he hoped she would be there tomorrow too and that he could talk to her then. Only to find out that she wasn’t there the next day, and the day after. And as he had to travel to the next race, he had long forgotten why he had wandered to that plaza that weekend.

°°°

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[marzipanandminutiae]

I was looking at the Nantucket whaling museum's exhibit on scrimshaw corset busks yesterday and I had a couple questions I thought I'd send you, since I know that there's a lot of bad information about corsets out there.

The exhibit said the scrimshaw busks likely weren't used, which struck me as odd--it seems like the idea of your wife or sweetheart wearing the busk close to her heart would be part of the value of the gift. Would corset busks be at risk of damage from ordinary wear? Do you know if there's any evidence one way or another for the scrimshaw busks being worn, or not?

Also, the exhibit said that early nineteenth century corsets only had the single busk for support, and it wasn't until the 1830s that corsets started to have multiple, smaller whalebone stays throughout. Is that right? It just seems like it wouldn't work very well, and it seems odd that multiple stays would be used in the 18th century and then go away and then come back in the mid 19th century. Unless they mean that the corsets were mainly stiffened with cording?

I would question most of that, yeah.

Busks CAN get broken while you're wearing them. I have a friend who broke the (wooden) busk in her Regency stays by putting all her weight against the thin piece at the top of a railing. The focused pressure with the weight behind it snapped her busk in half inside the stays. So I guess I see why an especially cautious woman might not use the busk carved for her by a loved one?

That being said...they were made to be used. To be worn next to one's heart, as you said. While one can theoretically break a busk in the course of everyday wear, I feel like it wasn't a universal certainty. So to say that they were never used seems a bit of a stretch.

Now, it's possible they meant that the examples there displayed likely weren't ever used, and that I'd be more willing to believe. Not sure I think that would be easy to determine- what wear would show on a busk, given its placement within the garment? But I haven't studied busk wear patterns, so maybe there's a telltale sign that I'm not thinking of.

The other half is easier to address: it's BS. While cording was a popular method of stiffening corsets in the late 18th-early 19th centuries (and remained so pretty much until the end of the Corset Era), they absolutely could have other boned areas besides just the busk. Sure, "busk and cording/quilting only" models did exist; they just weren't the only option.

(Short stays, 1795-1800, V&A Collection. See those casings? Those are for baleen bones.)

(Corset/long stays, c. 1825-35, V&A Collection. There are definitely two bones on either side of the busk, and some channels on the front hip area that could be for bones or wide cording; uncertain which.)

I'll take "interpretation issues that could be solved with a judiciously placed 'often'' for $500, Alex

[good-bones-cosplay]

I’m trying to figure out the layers. Anne wears a lot of stuff influenced by menswear. In menswear the white shirt would be a visible undergarment but it also looks like she’s maybe wearing a structural layer which would not be worn against the skin. We’ve seen her undergarments (drawers and short sleeved chemise)

So that would mean chemise, corded corset, shirt, waist coat. Her outfit also includes a frock coat and ulster. That seems like a lot of layers, even for a historical silhouette

The silhouette also doesn’t seem to me like that of a gored corset with a wooden busk as I’ve seen in digital museum collections. Interestingly the one in the OT doesn’t seem to be gored and reminds me a lot of late 18th century stays. Here’s the one from the OT compared to the typical 1830s ones.

Lastly the straps of a corset in the early 1830s would be too far out on the schoulder to be hidden by the waistcoat. Corsets don’tstart to lose their straps until later in the decade so the lines should technically be visible through the slightly sheer shirt. Especially since the one she’s seen in in the OT is unbleached. So, to corset or not to corset…

[marleysfinest]

let's talk badonkadonks dear mar

unlike the most stays/corsets of other time periods, regency corsets separated the boobs and kinda pushed them to the sides instead of to the center like we'd come to accept as normal (the tatas were lifted as normal tho). For effective separation, a wooden stick (busk) was used by sliding it into the separate pocket in the front.

Now, the thing about this busk. Since it was never visible, it meant that it could be carved with lovely patterns or.... hidden messages. Because of the discreet and intimate nature of this busk, they were sometimes gifts from lovers, bearing the whatever engraved message the said lover would like to deliver

so here's that, come back next time for another regency era clothes tidbit

GOD mae this is fucking outstanding this is everything I am sat bolt upright ears primed to receive more information on regency badonks and tatas!!!!!

I was previously aware of the fashionable bosom placement but the notes………the notes……. I am scheming

[transgenderer]

Treen (literally "of a tree") is a generic name for small handmade functional household objects made of wood. Treen is distinct from furniture, such as chairs, and cabinetry, as well as clocks and cupboards.[1][2] Before the late 17th century, when silver, pewter, and ceramics were introduced for tableware, most small household items, boxes and tableware were carved from wood. Today, treen is highly collectable for its patina and tactile appeal.[3]

Anything from wooden plates and bowls,[4]snuff boxes and needle cases, spoons and stay busks to shoehorns and chopping boards can be classed as treen.[3] Domestic and agricultural wooden tools are also usually classed with treen.

treen...

[recentadultburnout]

Info for writer in Thai series fandom: Thai classical music

Thai musical instruments can be divided into 4 types according to their sound-producing characteristics:

Plucking (plucked string instruments; เครื่องดีด, khrueang dit)

Bowing (bowed string instruments; เครื่องสี, khrueang si)

Striking (percussion instruments and hammered dulcimer; เครื่องตี, khrueang ti)

Blowing (wind instruments; เครื่องเป่า, khrueang pao)

Wikipedia

Example

เครื่องดีด Plucking

Chakhe (จะเข้) - crocodile-shaped fretted floor zither with three strings. The first two strings are made from silk, and the last is made from bronze

Phin (พิณ) - There are many different types according to the region.

Phin hai (พิณไห) or hai song (ไหซอง) - a set of earthenware jars with rubber bands stretched over the open mouths

Phin phia (พิณเพียะ) - chest-resonated stick zither played by the Northern Thai people

Phin namtao (พิณน้ำเต้า) - a single string harp made from the fruit of a gourd cut in half.

Krachappi (กระจับปี่) -  A plucked, long-necked fretted lute used in the classical music of Central Thailand.

เครื่องสี Bowing

Saw duang (ซอด้วง) - higher two-string fiddle with hardwood body; used in classical music

Saw sam sai (ซอสามสาย) - three-string spike fiddle with coconut shell body; used in classical music; also known as the most beautiful of the fiddles

Saw u (ซออู้) - lower two-string fiddle with a coconut shell body; used in classical music

Saw saw krapawng (ซอกระป๋อง)- two-string fiddles with body made from a metal can; used in the Isan region; saw krapong is smaller

Saw pip (ซอปี๊บ) In a larger version of the saw krapang, the resonator is made of aluminum or large stainless steel crafted into the box. Bamboo neck and wooden pegs (shaft), it uses steel strings. The sound is lower than that of saw krapang. Usually, saw pip is only for the blind and beggars used for the purpose of busking to earn money.

Saw bang/Saw phu thai (ซอบั้ง) - a made from bamboo, used in the Isan region. It is similar xi xa lo of Thai people (Vietnam).

Salo (สะล้อ) - two- or three-string spike fiddle used in the northern region

เครื่องตี Striking

Krap (กรับ) - clapper

Krap phuang (กรับพวง) - bundle of hardwood and brass slats, tied together at one end

Krap sepha (กรับเสภา) - pair of bamboo or hardwood sticks

Ranat (ระนาด) - trough-resonated keyboard percussion instrument; generally played with two mallets and used in Thai classical and theater music

Ranat ek (ระนาดเอก) - higher xylophone, with bars usually made of hardwood

Ranat ek mahori (ระนาดเอกมโหรี) - It is shaped like a xylophone Ek of Piphat in all respects, but is smaller in size and Luk Thuan (lowest sound) are 2 tones higher than in a Piphat ensemble, comparable to the sound of Ti and then runs all the way to Luk Yot. (Highest sound) equal to the sound La (number of 21 xylophones) or sound of a Ti (number of 22 xylophones).

Ranat thum (ระนาดทุ้ม) - lower xylophone, with bamboo or hardwood bars

Ranat thum mahori (ระนาดทุ้มมโหรี) - smaller in size and Luk Thuan (lowest sound) is comparable to the sound Sol and runs all the way to Luk Yot. (Highest sound) is the sound that has a total of 17 key.

Ranat ek lek (ระนาดเอกเหล็ก) - higher metallophone

Ranat thum lek (ระนาดทุ้มเหล็ก) - lower metallophone

Ranat kaeo (ระนาดแก้ว) - crystallophone; very rare

Link

There are 2 type of Ranat mallets, soft and hard.

Khong

Khong chai (ฆ้องชัย), also called khong hui (ฆ้องหุ่ย) or khong mui (ฆ้องมุ่ย) - huge hanging bossed gong used for indicating time

Khong mong (ฆ้องโหม่ง) or mong (โหม่ง) - medium-sized hanging bossed gong used in Thai ensembles

Khong meng (ฆ้องเหม่ง) or khong kratae (ฆ้องกระแต) - small bossed gong used as a signaling device and in traditional parades with klawng yao

Khong rao (ฆ้องราว) - three bossed gongs (small, medium, and large) suspended vertically in a wooden frame; rare

Khong khu (ฆ้องคู่) - pair of small bossed gongs suspended horizontally in a wooden box; used in theater music and music of southern Thailand

Drums

Taphon (ตะโพน) or klawng taphon (กลองตะโพน) - sacred barrel drum; played with the hands and used in the piphat ensemble and it is an membranophone.

(The brown stuff we see in the trailer from Be On Cloud is probably cooked rice mixed with ashes that have been attached to get the desired sound.)

Taphon mon (ตะโพนมอญ) - large drum played with the hand, used in the piphat mon

Klong that (กลองทัด) - large drum played with sticks; usually played in a pair and used in the piphat ensemble

Klong chatri (กลองชาตรี), also known as klong tuk (กลองตุ๊ก) - same as klong that but smaller, played with sticks; used in the piphat chatri

Rammana (รำมะนา) - frame drum; played with the hand

Thon (โทน) - goblet drum; played with the hand

Thon chatri (โทนชาตรี)

Thon mahori (โทนมโหรี)

Klong thap (กลองทับ) - goblet drum used primarily in southern Thai folk music, also used to create a beat in southern that shows or Nora shows.

Klong khaek (กลองแขก) - barrel drum; played with the hands and generally played in pairs

Klong song na (กลองสองหน้า) - barrel drum; played with the hands

Klong yao (กลองยาว) - long drum; played with the hands

Poeng mang khok (เปิงมางคอก), or simply poeng mang (เปิงมาง) - set of tuned drums used in the piphat mon

Klong bantho (กลองบัณเฑาะว์) - smallest hourglass pellet drum, like the Damaru and Dhadd in India; used in the Royal Thai Brahmanism-Hinduism Ceremony or ritual about the Thai Royal Family

เครื่องเป่า Blowing

Khlui (ขลุ่ย) - vertical duct flute made of bamboo, hardwood, or plastic

Khlui lib (ขลุ่ยหลิบ or ขลุ่ยหลีบ; treble); not commonly used

Khlui phiang aw (ขลุ่ยเพียงออ; medium)

Khlui u (ขลุ่ยอู้; bass); not commonly used

Pi (ปี่) - quadruple- or double-reed oboe

Pi chanai (ปี่ไฉน) - possibly derived from the Indian shehnai

Pi chawa (ปี่ชวา) - used to accompany Muay Thai

Pi mon (ปี่มอญ; မွန်နှဲ) - large double-reed oboe with detachable metal bell; used for funeral music

Pi nai (ปี่ใน) - standard leading instrument used in the piphat ensemble

Pi klang (ปี่กลาง)

Pi nok (ปี่นอก)

There are mainly three types of Thai classical music: Khrueang Sai, Piphat, and Mahori Ensemble, each with its own sub-genre.

Tradition

It is a tradition that players must respect the instrument. Before and after playing, the player usually raise their hands to wai the instruments because Thai instruments are considered to have "Khru," which means that the instruments that we use and knowledge of Thai music is something we can only have because those before us have invented and passed it on, so we must respect them.

Wai Khru and Khrop Khru ceremony

a very important ceremony for people who study traditional Thai arts, whether they are music, dance, Khon or artisan.

Wai Khru is to perform a ceremony to pay respects to the teacher.

There are many other different types of Wai Kru, such as Wai Kru in school, which is a ritual on Teacher's Day. Wai Kru Muay, which is a Wai Kru in the style of Thai boxing, as well as Krabi Krabong, Wai Kru before performing musical arts such as shadow puppets and Wai Kru in poetry, called "Asiravat," ect. The purpose is to commemorate the merit of Kru and ask for auspiciousness. Traditionally, a Wai Kru ceremony is held on Thursdays.

Khrop Khru is to get approval to start studying at that stage.

There are different ways to do the Khrop Khru ceremony depending on what kind of Thai art it is for. As for music, it considers learning Piphat to be the most important, so the Khrop Khru ceremony for learning Piphat has more steps than for learning Khrueang Sai or singing.

The Khon head used in the ceremony consists of

Shiva's Khon The symbol of Lord Shiva, who is considered one of the great gods and is the god of destruction, When we set the mask or head, we must set it higher than the other masks.

Phra Narai's Khon symbol of Lord Narayana, which is considered a god who manages and heals the world. When we set the mask or head, it must be lower than Shiva.

Brahma Khon is a symbol of Lord Brahma, who is considered the god who created the world. When we set the mask or head, it must be lower than Shiva but always with Vishnu.

Indra Khon symbol of Indra, which is considered a god who will help the good people, the cause of the rain, to give succulence to the crops of the earth. When we set the mask or head, we must set it lower than Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma.

Ganesha Khon The symbol of Lord Ganesha, who is considered the god of knowledge, wisdom, and liberal arts, is supreme above all obstacles. He is a deity who is beyond the writings of books. When we set the mask, we must set it to be lower than other gods, but can be around the same level as Indra.

Vishnu Khon The Symbol of Vishnu, which is considered the god of construction workers and related to the Chatree drama, there is believed that his highness will come down to the pillar in the middle of the Chatree stage to protect against all dangers. When we set the mask, it must be lowered by Shiva, Narai, Brahma, Indra, and Ganesha.

Narada Muni Khon is the symbol of the Narada Muni, which is considered a Piphat teacher and the inventor of thai harp. He is the author of the Scriptures of Law, known as "Naratiya Thammasat". The head will be set up on the right side of the stage with the heads of various hermit monks.

Panchasikorn hermit's khon is the symbol representing Phra Panchasikorn, which is considered to be a teacher of harp and singing. When we set the mask or head, it will be located on the right side of the stage with the heads of various hermits.

Khon Phra Phirap, symbol of the Phra Phirap, is considered a powerful demon teacher, to whom the Khon-drama and Thai music artists pay their respects as teachers of music and dance. He is the god of death and calamity. At the same time, he is the god of luck, who can eliminate various diseases. We will place the mask or head on the left side of the stage, lower than Shiva but higher than other giant masks, and separate it from the gods or humans.

Kolaikodi hermit, Pharot hermit, Bull's Eye Hermit, Fire Eye Hermit Khon heads represent each of them, which are considered human teachers who take note of Shiva's dance moves and posture and convey them to us. Artists studying Thai traditional art must respect all of them, but the most frequently mentioned and worshiped is the Pharot hermit (Old Father), who is considered the direct teacher. When we set the mask or head, we will set them on the right side of the stage, separated from the gods or demons.

Source

The different Khrop Khru ceremonies for each type of music are as follows:

By cymbals

The cymbal is used in ceremonies for everything that is inconvenient to holding hands or any learners who do not learn what is classified as a Naphat song, such as those who play Khrueang Sai or sing. The teacher, who is the one to give approval for them to learn, will use cymbals in the ceremony.

By holding hands (for people who studying Piphat)

The details are as follows:

First time

Students prepare flowers, incense, candles, and money to give to the teacher as a token of respect. Then the teacher holds the student's hand and guides them to play khong wong yai. Play Sathukan's (สาธุการ) song three times, and it's done. That student is considered ready to start studying Piphat. They will start by learning the Sathukarn song from any teacher until they can play it from start to finish, and then learn all the songs in the homrong evening set (Song Naphat, primary stage), with the exception of the Tra homrong song, which one will need to receive the second Khrop Khru ceremonies before learning. * homrong (โหมโรง) = The first song played before a performance to signal that the event has begun.

2nd time

When the student completes all the songs in the homrong evening set, and ready to learn the Tra homrong song, The teacher will do the ceremonies for them by holding their hands and guiding them to play khong wong yai, Tra homrong song, three times.

3rd time

Time for the homrong midday. The teacher will hold the student’s hand and guide them to play khong wong yai, trabong kan song, three times.

4th time

Started to learn high-level Naphat music. The teacher will hold the student’s hand and guide them to play khong wong yai, batsakuni song, three times.

5th time

In this step, the student will get to learn Song Phra Phirap, which is the song that is at the highest level.

The qualifications of the recipients at this stage are as follows:

That person has to go through the 4 stages of initial Khrop Khru ceremonies already. This means that the attendees must learn all the Naphat songs that are required in each Khrop Khru ceremony already.

must be at least 30 years of age, or have been ordained as a monk, or otherwise have to receive royal permission from His Majesty the King.

If it is considered that the learner has enough qualifications, then they will be allowed to learn the song Phra Phirap with the following steps.

Light incense, candles, and flowers to worship Phra Phirap before the beginning of the song.

The teacher who performed the ceremony held the students' hands and guided them to play khong wong yai to the melody at the beginning of the song 3 times.

They should study all the remaining parts of the song or review it on Thursday.

For the prosperity of both those who perform the ceremony and the participants in the ceremony, they must follow the steps and must remember the sanctity of ceremonies strictly.

Source

Index

[littledraga]

Skull in the Park

@ask-the-becile-boys

So it’s not actually the time frame I gave but I couldn’t wait. A lil thing where Skull meets someone from his past. A piece inspired by https://archiveofourown.org/works/44349940

Everything had been changing. Faster and faster at old Becile manor. Something was coming, looming over them. Skull could feel it, and he knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Things seldom were for them. Even the good days were hard.

Now that Riker had fixed Jack, things were quieter. With his own limiter removed, he was grateful. Things would set him off, and he wouldn’t know why or how. Skull was never a social bot, but he was finding himself needing more time for himself as he tried to process everything.

Which was how he found himself at an old park. After Riker bought him rosin for his bass, and a lot of work to get it to play again, Skull was finding old comfort in it. It felt like there was less free time now than there had ever been, and yet, he felt like he had been playing more than ever. Training his fingers to dance over the strings like before. And over time, better than he’d ever been.

Something he needed more than ever. And some freedom from the dark smoke stained halls of the manor.

In the early morning, before Riker had finished sleeping off the whiskey he finished off last night, Skull had silently packed away his bass in its canvas case. Through the manor he went and out the door to where he came to sit on an old bench that creaked under his weight.

It wasn’t safe to go out just yet, and he knew that, but he knew he needed this too. The others would be safe if they stayed together. Just a few hours to himself.

Pulling out the double bass, Skull sat a moment while he made sure it was perfectly in tune before resting it against his metal shoulder. Clicking off his optics a moment, he just let himself focus on the strings under his fingers and the faint sounds of the park around him. Birds around him and the faint sounds of children playing.

Unfocused, Skull let his fingers control the music at first. Experimenting and warming up on scales as he ran his bow smoothly across well loved strings.

Once he felt looser, Skull started to play. He started with a simple classic. Something he could play in his sleep. But it was smooth and made him feel lighter as he let the world fade away to only this moment. Just the feeling of his fingers on the strings and his bow as it glided over them. The sounds it made as everything else seemed to fade away.

Skull played his first song and then another and another. As he went through his music, his mind wandered to a new song he had been practicing. Something by Koussevitzky. He was pretty sure it wasn’t the original song that he had bought all those years ago, but something about getting to play his music was a comfort and a joy. An act of defiance he would have never let himself have all those years ago.

As the notes poured from his double bass, The Skull focused on his fingers, making sure not to miss a single note as they danced along the strings. This was the most relaxed he had let himself be in such a long time. He didn’t notice anything outside of the bench he sat on.

As the song came to an end, Skull was taken aback to see a bill held out in front of him in a wrinkled old hand. Looking up, he looked confused. Or at least as much as his faceplate would allow.

Leaning on a carved wooden cane was an old man with wild curls and a smile so large his eyes squinted. “Nice music, mister,” he said in a shaking voice.

“I’m not busking,” explained The Skull with a huff of coal smoke that curled around his face plate.

A small nod, but the man didn’t move his hand away. “My Ma says you always oughta thank musicians,” he said, his grin turning just the slightest bit cheeky.

Suddenly, Skull’s face softened in recognition. It had been so long he had thought the little boy would have been gone by now. Smiling a little, he took the offered bill.

“I was real sad when you didn’t come back that next week,” the man explained before using his cane to point to the edge of the bench.

The Skull understood well enough and scooted over to let the old man sit next to him, trying to keep the smoke from blowing in his face.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Things got in the way,” he tried to explain as he laid his bow in his lap.

“I had meant to come back.”

The old man laughed and used both hands to tap his cane on the ground.

“Life has a way of getting in the way of things doesn’t it? I came back for weeks, saving up my pennies.”

A bit of smoke curled around Skull. He felt a bit guilty about that. Even if that hadn’t been his intention.

The old man gave Skull a side glance before grinning. “And when I gave up, I had saved up enough so I spent it all at the soda shop. Gave myself a stomach like no other!” He laughed brightly. Hard enough, he slapped his leg.

Which made Skull laugh too, as he thought of a little boy trying to eat as many sweets as possible.

“‘Least you put it to good use,” he chuckled. “Glad ta see ya again, kid.”

[justkeeponsimming]

Giving up on her attempts to recycle, Ivy wanders around the maker's space, trying to find another way to make some simoleons. 

Whilst she has no idea what else she can do, her inspiration is on the up as she hears Reed’s voice flowing through the complex. She’s busking in the small picnic space at the centre of the building, but any sims around the place can hear her. She’s doing an amazing job at covering some of the old Fated Mates songs that were created before she joined the group. 

Ivy hums along as she walks through the building. The backing vocals and the guitar chords were part when the song was first performed. She’s confident that her voice will meld well with Reed’s. As she’s walking, she wanders into the candle making and wooden sculptures room. She spies a sim who looks strikingly familiar. Oh…is that Reed’s brother? Photos of him are plastered all over the walls of their home, but she’s never met him in person.

Ivy: “Hey, are you Glitch?”

Glitch turns around and stares at her blankly for a moment. Soon, recognition lights up his expression as he offers his hand to Ivy.

Glitch: “I am! You must be Ivy! I’m working with Alex for xir debut solo album!”

Now Ivy’s face alights as she remembers the link between Glitch and the former lead singer of the Fated Mates. Reed’s brother, Glitch, is a talented musician and producer in his own right. Maybe this is a good connection to make, not just as a family member. 

Ivy: “Of course! How could I forget? How’s the album going?”

The conversation is very pleasant. Everything Reed has shared about her brother is true - he’s charming and cheeky! Ivy doesn’t mention her relationship with Reed and Kana, nor Reed’s pregnancy, she’s not sure what Reed’s family knows about her love life!

[whennnow]

The Good, The Bad, The Short Stays

February 13, 2019

[Image ID: a flat photo of Regency-esque short stays made of unbleached muslin]

I started my Regency fashion journey back in the summer of 2017 and I… have not made it very far. All I have right now are a chemise that I can’t get over my shoulders (whoops!) and a set of nice looking short stays with some dark secrets. I’m disappointed with my progress - it’s hard not to be - but I’m trying my best to look at this as a learning experience. So, without further ado, let’s dig into my stays!

These are the designs and pattern pieces I started with. I drafted the pattern myself, which was a first for me, and the pattern turned out surprisingly well! The finished product even fits well!

[Image ID: three mostly rectangular sewing pattern pieces labeled, from right to left, "front", "side", and "back"]

In the original designs, I had planned to have boning on either side of the center front lacing. I was forced to scrap that, as my chest just isn’t that wide. I also changed the number of gussets in each cup to four, instead of three, and made each gusset the same shape. They seem to work fine, but I’d be curious to see if shaping them would make much of a difference.

The gussets did not turn out well at all. I had never sewn gussets before, and didn’t bother doing any research before I jumped into them. I admit I still haven’t read up on gussets, but I suspect that part of the problem was that I had mis-measured the gussets and made the seam allowances too small, so when I folded in the seam allowances for the front panels and sewed them down, the gussets didn’t catch in some places. To remedy this, I hand sewed them using what could, on a technicality, be called a whip stitch, I think. The quality of my stitching isn’t very consistent, but it is very nice to run my fingers along in some places, and it serves to reinforce the seams there, which is probably a good thing.

The eyelets were also a first for me, and most of them turned out very nicely! There are 14 eyelets total, all hand-bound, with metal jump rings inside them for reinforcement. You can definitely tell which eyelets were my first if you look closely, but I’m very happy with how they turned out!

The body of the stays is just two layers of unbleached muslin. Something sturdier would have been better. The edges are bound in off-white bias tape, which seems to have worked well enough. The boning is heavy-duty zip ties, a carry-over from my cosplay days. The boning at both sides of the center front, where a busk should be, is actually just a wooden dowel. Doubling up the zip ties wasn’t giving me the support I needed for the bust (lift and separate!), so I had to find an alternative. Obviously, neither zip ties nor wooden dowels (or the jump rings in the eyelets) are ideal or washable, but they do, technically, get the job done.

Each cup has a drawstring at the top for adjustability. The shoulder straps tie to the front, also for adjustability. I ordered the cord I used for those and the front lacing from Wm Booth Draper. I had never heard of them before, but they seemed to be well-established and had lots of good reviews on their Facebook page, so I took the chance and was not let down!

To finish off, since this has gotten to be a lot longer than I meant it to, I’m not completely happy about how these turned out, but they fit and have been a very good learning opportunity for me, so I am content. I do plan on remaking them in the future, but that might be very far into the future, at this rate.

Stay warm, stay safe, stay dry.

[aonoexpat]

Getting my bearings

07-02-2023

Okay please do not expect me to keep up this rate of posting on here because I do not intend to but I just have SO MUCH NEW STUFF TO SHARE RIGHT NOW

It feels like I've been here for two whole weeks already, with how much I've been up to. I've seen the local shopping district (blown away by the caliber of the thrift shops here, I am living for it), gotten in a (minor, no worries) car accident, gone to that board game night (played Viticulture, cool but not entirely my thing) and most of the administrative process has been taken care of by now, which means:

a local phone number: much needed to get around if you want future employers to be able to reach you. I have a dual SIM phone but I've taken my Dutch SIM out anyway, because the rates are staggeringly high: 254 cents per minute of outgoing or incoming calls, 51 cents per text message and 500 cents per MB(!) of data. No thank you. I do still want to keep my Dutch number so I've just downgraded my plan to the bare minimum to save some costs.

a local bank account: it took some back-and-forth, but now I'm officially banking with Kiwibank :) I chose them for their omnipresence, and because I'd read online that they're one of the more sustainable and inclusive options out here.

a local tax ID: is on the way, this is necessary for NZ and NL to communicate about my income and any taxes that apply.

an actual job: working on it, printing CVs tomorrow but I also managed to get my hands on a beautiful guitar so busking is now officially on the table!

The time I wasn't working on these things, I spent out and about, enjoying the views and the culture shock. Yesterday's highlight was Zealandia: a 255 ha wildlife sanctuary that sits right on the fold line where two tectonic plates meet. It's home to many a species of birds, reptiles and plants, some of them endangered, and offers some killer views:

Here's a little selection of who I met there:

The Pied Shag / Kāruhiruhi / Phalacrocorax varius varius

Not to be confused with a regular ol' penguin. Seemed very chill

The Takahē / Porphyrio hochstetteri

Very sleepy, and the most reminiscent of its undoubtedly dinosaur ancestors. Also clearly a menace to keep inside its designated area:

The California quail / Tikaokao / Callipepla californica

Standing guard on the fence as its whānau rummage about in the garden below 💚

Tuatara / Sphenodon punctatus

The Kākā / Nestor meridionalis septentrionalis​

According to the volunteer park guide who was kind enough to give us a talk about them on her time off, the park started out with 14 of these back in 2002. At the time the Kākā hadn't been living in the Wellington area for over 100 years. Since then, over 1000 new Kākā chicks have been born in the sanctuary due to their tremendous efforts to protect these intelligent birds. The feeders they put out for them require them to step on a little pedal to lift the lid and access the food. They've done experiments with them where they put a little wooden block under the pedal to block it, and the young ones quickly learned to remove it to regain access. They've also suspended food from pieces of string hanging from the branches to see what they would do, since Kākā are unable to hover. Even this they managed to solve by sitting on the branch and pulling up the string until they could reach the food. They look like they're having great fun, hanging upside down from branches and being real acrobats in the trees as well as the air 😍

I'm definitely visiting this place again when I have the chance, because there's a lot more of the park to explore!

My current plan is to stay here in Te Whanganui-a-tara until the beginning of April. Then I can catch a ride up to Hobbiton and then Tāmaki-makau-rau (aka Auckland), after which I'll travel back down, in order to visit the South Island in May, most likely! So for now my focus will be on saving up some money and enjoying the wonderful weather while it lasts 🌞