#((i have never read shakespears work because the english is way too old

[gomzdrawfr]

Sometimes I really wanna reply a reblog ((looking at you @tabsters )) and then realize if I reblog the reblog people cant see the previous reblog statements(woah thats a lot of reblog in one sentence)

Anyways

I read all of them btw, and collect them like stickers and read them when Im down

I love you all

[wordsinhaled]

Alright y'all, I've been asked for some guidance and Middle English resources following up on my "Hob 'Middle English survives in me' Gadling" post, so... here goes! :D @slavicwitchling I hope this is a lil helpful! I feel like this... went way too in-depth for what was actually asked of me but feel free to say hi if you have more specific questions or anything else I can help with <333 (Or if anyone has q's about other random Medieval Lit Things that might be helpful for fandom please feel free to stop by!!! (Also lol, I make myself sound like an Expert or something but it's been a minute since I was in school doing this, though to be fair I'm diving headfirst back into this passion lately and may potentially be going back, so always happy to do some research if needed!)

What is Middle English? Middle English describes the period of the English language where it transitioned from Old English to Early Modern (aka Shakespeare's) English. During this period from the Norman Conquest in 1066 to the late 1400s, English also borrowed a lot of characteristics from French, and a lot of changes happened grammatically & structurally to make English sound, look, and feel a lot more familiar to our modern ears than Old English does. Here's a helpful article on this! There's some debate on when ME was spoken but more or less 1150 to 1500. What did Middle English sound like? What would Hob have probably sounded like? Here's my back-translation of Hob and Dream's 1389 conversation into Middle English! Here is also an example of a Middle English lyric found in the manuscript Harley 2253 (which dates to c. 1340) - "When the nyhtegale singes" ("When the nightingale sings"). Middle English was beautiful and Hob probably sounded kinda like this! Actually just go listen to all of Briddes Roune it's so pretty <3 And here's what the manuscript page looks like!

When the nyhtegale singes,  The wodes waxen grene, Lef ant gras ant blosme springes In Averyl, Y wene ; Ant love is to myn herte gon With one spere so kene, Nyht ant day my blod hit drynkes Myn herte deth me tene. Ich have loved al this yer  That Y may love na more; Ich have siked moni syk, Lemmon, for thin ore, Me nis love neuer the ner, Ant that me reweth sore; Suete lemmon, thench on me, Ich have loved the yore. When the nightingale sings, The trees grow green, Leaf and grass and blossom springs, In April, I suppose; And love has to my heart gone With a spear so keen, Night and day my blood it drains My heart to death it aches. I have loved all this past year So that I may love no more; I have sighed many a sigh, Beloved, for thy pity, My love is never thee nearer, And that me grieveth sore; Sweet loved-one, think on me, I have loved thee long.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight read in ME

The Canterbury Tales General Prologue read in ME (this is 45 minutes long, but you can just listen to part of it, haha)

helpful resources & websites

Luminarium — an anthology of medieval literature 1350-1485; I especially love the section for Middle English lyrics & poems!

the Middle English Dictionary via University of Michigan Library; an AWESOME searchable database of Middle English words and examples of their usage in context within texts. You can use the "Modern English word equivalent" search function to back-translate things!

Middle English manuscripts online at the British library!

List of Middle English terms of endearment — helpful for Dreamling fics ;)

How to call someone beautiful in Middle English <;3

(Some) notable literary works in Middle English in case that interests anyone!

Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, written between 1387 and 1400 — links to Harvard's Chaucer website w/ the text & in-line translations + helpful guides on how to read Chaucer, etc.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by anonymous, c. 1400 (the Gawain poet) — links to the Weston translation but I really like the one by Simon Armitage, which is great for learning ME because it's a facing page translation! I've seen a lot of people recommend against starting with SGGK as your first ME work because it's super weird and super steeped in Arthuriana, but like, I'm not gonna tell people what to read! If it interests you, you should read it :D Granted, I'm SUPER BIASED in favor of SGGK (it's my favorite work, no contest) but it could be good to be familiar with some Arthuriana first before reading

On that note, Sir Thomas Malory's Le Mort Darthur c. 1485 (links to a version online up on Project Gutenberg) is a translation & compilation by Malory of French & English Arthurian stories (the Old French Vulgate romances, the Alliterative Morte Arthure and the Stanzaic Morte Arthur). Fun fact, Le Mort Darthur was first printed by Caxton in an abridged version in 1485, right as Hob was getting in on printing! Afterwards they found the Winchester manuscript, which dates to prior to 1485 and is considered to be the more accurate version compared to Caxton's The Norton Critical Edition is a great unabridged Middle English full text version that reproduces some of the visual characteristics of the Winchester manuscript (illuminated capitals and fancy font for all the names, etc.) and has a lot of literary criticism, analysis, and a glossary in the back included. BUT I think this version could be a difficult read to get through if reading alone. Here is the Oxford World's Classics version (ed. Helen Cooper) which is easier/more approachable!

William Langland's The Vision of Piers Plowman c. 1370–86 (aka just Piers Plowman) - honestly, it really is not my favorite at all, but there is an entire International Piers Plowman Society. It's like the Ulysses of ME literature I guess??? So i... won't rag on it too much, haha; maybe I just need to revisit it and I will find something new in it to like. It's a series of dream visions in which the dreamer/narrator seeks a true Christian life. Here is the Middle English text (University of Michigan Library). Here's the Oxford World's Cassics translation

The Gawain poet is thought to also have written Pearl, Cleanness, and Patience, which are 3 works that survive in the manuscript Cotton MS Nero A X, the same manuscript as SGGK (the "Pearl manuscript", c. 1400) (more info on the manuscript)

[tobyyobyy]

carl grimes headcannons because we lack of anything for him and i can (most, if not all, are just non-apocalypse headcannons):

- autistic (we are starting off strong here)

- vocally stims vines sometimes (“road work ahead? uh yeah i sure hope it does”, “look at all those chickens”, “i wanna be a cowboy baby”) (he does that last one in front of rick a lot and rick never understands it’s from vine)

- judith: “daddy?”

- carl: “DO I LOOK LIKE-?”

- glenn taught him a lot of stupid jokes like “ligma” and “joe mama” (the usual college kid jokes)

- would use the “joe mama” joke on judith a lot

- judith would retaliate with ligma jokes (“we have the same mom idiot”)

- no one knows where she learnt that one

- loved science as a kid

- switched between wanting to become a cop like rick or an astronomer

- thought about being a palaeontologist but couldn’t see himself doing it for the rest of his life

- didn’t have a lot of friends but was still liked by other kids anyways (doesn’t mean he’s popular, people are just neutral about him)

- is on a swim team

- just likes swimming in general

- MOMMA’S BOY!!!!!

- then lori died so he made that transition over to his dad…yeah

- keeps his hair long and went through that teenage grunge phase

- listens to bands like oasis, los campensinos, nirvana, foo fighters, etc etc

- his parents music taste would sneak in sometimes tho like fleetwood mac, abba (lori) bob dylan, johnny cash (rick), any 80’s songs and old country (below the 70’s)

- because of that grunge phase he’d 100% play the electric guitar

- his grandpa taught him a bit of acoustic whenever they’d visit

- he plays the acoustic sometimes for judith, or anyone in his family who asks, but mainly judith

- plays more chill songs like something you’d find in the ‘life is strange’ soundtrack (bright eyes, angus and julia stone, iron & wine) (most of those are from enid’s music taste)

- rick and michonne let him use the garage but it still drives them up the walls when he jams out with friends

- doesn’t understand the superbowl but because his dad likes it he makes an effort to watch it with him because no one else will

- jump scares any unsuspecting victim when they turn the corner of a wall

- to calm down whenever he’s stressed/overwhelmed/overstimulated he’ll either go swimming or ask his grandparents to come over (they own a farm) to ride some horses

- allergic to peanuts (not pecans because they had to eat some when they met Gabriel so)

- hates anything deep fried except for fish

- terrible in any form of skating

- roller skating? keeps slamming into the wall

- ice skating? uses those kid-balance-crutches-thingys

- he just has terrible coordination

- obviously gets worse when he looses his eye

- he’s good at bowling tho

- even tho he’s a moody teenager he’s EXTREMELY kind

- switches from sciences to arts and english in high school

- started making little family portraits drawings

- can actually understand old english/shakespeare

- makes blanket forts with judith 24/7

- actually does have a southern accent it’s just more like loris (less noticeable than ricks)

- would 100% watch minecraft youtubers

- bisexual little shit (duh)

- when he was a kid he didn’t have a fear of needles but as he grew up he just DESPISED them like shaking screaming crying and throwing up type deal

- hums a lot to judith, usually the song “baby mine”

- snapchat user

- embarrassingly so. especially when he uses the filters

- has a diary and calls it a diary not a journal

- drops trauma like it’s nothing, like a silly joke (this is basically canon but i’ll still include it in)

- headphones on 24/7 might as well be glued to his head (his ears are too small for earphones and he likes soundproof headphones anyways)

- an entire shelf in his closet is just for comics (and some comics are thin so you can imagine how many he has)

- likes reading other things too instead of just comics

- refuses to wear elastics/tie his hair up even if it gets in his way a lot

- let’s judith put silly hairclips in it

- sometimes forgets to take them out when he gets to school but he doesn’t care much

- would watch: the office, brooklyn nine-nine, the breakfast club & moral orel

[theghostinthemargins]

Explore my bookshelf!

Tagged by @searchingforserendipity25, thank you <3

An estimate of how many physical books I own: um. it must be in the thousands. there are... a lot.

Favorite author: I have a few, but for overall favourite I don't think anyone can beat Jane Austen. She's funny, she's clever, she's romantic... I adore all her books so much.

A popular book I've never read and never intend to read: I keep hearing about Where The Crawdads Sing and it sounds... very forgettable, to be honest.

A popular book I thought was just meh: Normal People by Sally Rooney - people were talking about it like it was the pinnacle of millennial literature, and it was really just a book.

Longest book I own: probably the Complete Works of Shakespeare.

Longest series I own all the books to: I think that would be the combined Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo series, which comes out to fifteen books.

Prettiest book I own: Either Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales or The Lord of the Rings!

A book or series I wish more people knew about: The Cazalet Chronicles by Elizabeth Jane Howard are so so good! They're about an upper-class English family during WW2 and I love all the complicated intergenerational relationships and the lovely prose and also the wlw representation <3

Book I'm reading now: I have been working my way through Les Miserables for some months and nearing the final stretch now I think! Also Emily Wilson's Odyssey on the side.

Book that's been on my TBR list for a while but I still haven't got around to it: Dune - it's been sitting on my shelf for a while and I haven't picked it up because I'm not much of a sci-fi reader, but it's supposed to be a classic and looks very interesting so hopefully I'll get around to it soon!

Do you have any books in a language other than English: I am a monolingual reader, unfortunately. I think I have a couple of French-English parallel books (with French on one side and English on the other) but I haven't read them straight through. Also maybe some Euripides plays in the original Greek? They're very old books and I'm not sure whether they're in Greek or English.

Paperback, hardcover, or ebook? Usually paperbacks for ease of transportation! I've mostly gone off e-books because they're harder to lend out and I like swapping books with people, but I do buy them if I can't bear to wait for a paperbook edition of a book to come out and the hardback is too expensive.

Tagging @warrioreowynofrohan, @dreamingthroughthenoise, @eilinelsghost, @swanmaids and anyone else who'd like to join in!

[oh-cawsh]

9 people to get to know better

thanks for tagging me @ghostradiodylan !!

1. Three ships: Rylan my beloved they do no wrong. theyre the epitome of awkward bashful and honest gay summer teen romance with the perfect contrasting note of horrific life threatening monsters which is unsurpassable genre peak. and yeah ngl its pretty rare that i get behind a ship but two others i can think of are amity/luz from the owl house (but mostly in season 1 because they do cute anxious crushing stuff and after that they just kind of turn into supportive gf A and supportive gf B), and legosi/louis from beastars because how do you just gloss over neurotic homophobe slut ptsd theatre twink x weird brooding puritan loser freudian pervert and the fact that it does WORK too like hello

2. First ever ship: i wanna say gregg and angus from night in the woods?? i remember i was in that weird sexual orientation puberty where you literally know you're gay but it's not like a consciously meaningful part of your identity so i remember seeing them and thinking wow that's cool that they're boyfriends i guess idk. also i'm inexorably drawn to their existence for some reason and my lockscreen is them cuddling with the lazy morning light peeking through the curtains

3. Last song: My Kink is Karma - Chappell Roan, im a sucker for moody electronic pop and that album DELIVERS

4. Last film: i watched the first three movies in a pirates of the caribbean marathon with some friends which ngl after the first one feels like trying to suck sugar water out of a sock 😶 the last film i personally chose to watch was the 1976 Carrie! it was nice being able to watch it and appreciate it as an adult with an education and not a teen recluse going "yeah carrie you show those villain highschoolers what's what"

5. Currently (re)reading: Shakespeare's Twelfth Night! i have my old copy from highschool open next to me and the 2012 shakespeare's globe production up and i just sit and sift between watching and reading and analysing it, just like when i first learned it in class. i'm not really sure why i wanted to reread it again in the first place, but i find it kind of soothing to read older texts where the language and culture's a little ways off from its modern successors. i find it calming to kind of pull those stories back in a way we can understand with its old contexts and writing, and see more and more of that timeless human experience shine through. sudoku for english nerds i guess LOL

6. Currently watching: my watcher's stamina has actually gotten so shit im ngl like i actually haven't watched a show in months 😭😭😭 the last show i watched was bluey (which was pretty good! (and pretty indicative of the kind of attention span ive got these days 😂👌))

7. Currently consuming: this horrible like nutraloaf nightmare bowl i made because my appetite was really poor today and at 5 pm or so i was like ugh well id better eat something quick and dense if im not gonna have a proper meal so i insulted God and put together reheated smashed potato (in the microwave so they lost all their crunch and flavour) + dried roasted edamame beans + peanut butter + regular butter + cheddar + yoghurt + whole salted almonds in a bowl and had a slice of walnut fig cake as a side. that thing needed a censor bar like i was in the trenches trying to get that down im ngl. eating that meal took more energy out of me than what it gave back like i knew i made something unholy and then immediately paid for it like it was so frankenstein and his monster right there on that kitchen counter

8. Currently craving: literally anything after that like god damn 😭😭😭😭😭 otherwise ive been hankering for a good chana masala and naan combo cus there's literally never a day where i'll turn south asian cuisine down like aw man i shouldve just gone out and got some of that to eat today ugh god damn it

also im ngl i don't really know who to tag cus i only started having a presence on tumblr like barely a month ago and ive only meaningfully interacted with like 3 people since then so um!! whoever's out there lurking around on my blog if ya wanna participate feel free! and either way, thanks for readin my ramblings regardless :)

[whimsicaldragonette]

Blog Tour and ARC Review: By Any Other Name by Erin Cotter

Welcome to my stop on the By Any Other Name book tour with Colored Pages Blog Tours. (This blog tour is also posted on my wordpress book blog Whimsical Dragonette.)

Book info:

TITLE: By Any Other Name AUTHOR: Erin Cotter PUBLISHER: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers RELEASE DATE: October 10, 2023 GENRES: Young Adult, Historical Fiction, Fantasy PAGES: 464 REPRESENTATION: Queer MCs

Goodreads StorygraphBlackwellsAmazonBarnes & NobleBookshop USOther Retailers

Synopsis:

A down-on-his-luck actor and an English lord reluctantly team up to solve the murder of Christopher Marlowe in this Shakespearean-era young adult romp perfect for fans of F.T. Lukens and Mackenzi Lee.

London, 1593. Sixteen-year-old Will Hughes is busy working on Shakespeare’s stage, stuffing his corsets with straw and pretending to be someone else. Offstage, he's playing a part, too. The son of traitors, Will is desperate to keep his identity secret—or risk being killed in the bloody queen’s imperial schemes. All he wants is to lay low until he earns enough coin to return to his family.

But when his mentor, the famous playwright Christopher Marlowe, is murdered under mysterious circumstances, Will’s plans are hopelessly dashed. What’s worse, Marlowe was a spy for the queen, tasked with stalking a killer rumored to be part of an elusive order of assassins, and his secrets and untimely death have put Will under a harsh spotlight. And so, when Will unwittingly foils an attempt on the queen’s life, she names him her next spymaster.

Now, to avoid uncomfortable questions, prison, or an even more terrible fate, Will reluctantly starts his new career, which—yes—will secure him the resources to help his family…but at what cost? Adding insult to injury is the young Lord James Bloomsbury, Will’s new comrade in arms, whose entitled demeanor and unfairly handsome looks get under Will’s skin immediately.

Together, the two hunt the cunning assassin, defend the queen’s life, and pray to keep their own...all while an unexpected connection blossoms between them.

Author Bio:

Erin Cotter writes young adult fiction. Originally from Buffalo, New York, she currently calls Austin home. When not writing she spends time with her partner and pets, eating tacos, and searching for Golden-cheeked Warblers in the Texas Hill Country.

Author Links:

Goodreads WebsiteInstagram

My Rating: ★★★★

*My Review, Favorite Quotes, and Tour Schedule below the cut.

My Review:

I can’t give this five stars because I didn’t love it and I definitely wouldn’t read it again, but it absolutely deserves four for how very much I didn’t love the setting - purely a case of personal preference - and at the same time how much I loved the characters. It takes skill to pull such a visceral response of dislike from me and at the same time endear the characters to me so strongly.

The thing I like least about this book, and the thing that makes me admire the skill of the author the most, is the rawness of life in this medieval world. These characters live in filth. They are accustomed to it. Humanity here, from the aristocrats to the peasants, is only a step away from animals. Life is unpredictable, brutal, full of disease and filth and crassness and betrayal. And no one bats an eye.

It reminds me of Catherine Called Birdy (a book I still vividly remember viscerally hating when I had to read it for school all those years ago) in the way it portrays a world of casual brutality and scrabbling in the mud for a life. Honestly it’s probably at least in part a bit of germaphobia that makes me hate this world so.

Will and his friends go through so much over the course of the novel, and there are so many plot twists, that I was constantly surprised by events and by their tenacity and determination to survive. I never saw a single thing coming in the course of the assassination and murder investigation. I could see, after each piece had fallen into place, exactly how it fit, but not how it got there.

The characters and events were melodramatic and sometimes strained credulity, but it all fits with the underlying theme of plays and players. Shakespeare and Marlowe are even characters. Will begins as an actor playing girls on stage in Marlowe's plays, and he keeps all of those actor characteristics to his personality throughout the story.

Will is likable no matter his selfishness and many faults, and i found myself continually rooting for him and his star-crossed love. And I came away loathing the nobility, especially Elizabeth. Her court was rotten and she was the worst of them all.

The way the story played out was very satisfying and wrenched a lot of feelings from me. Not least of which was the conviction that I absolutely positively never want to visit this world.

Seriously though, James' sister Catherine deserved so much better. Her part of the story is the one thing that really disappointed me.

*Thanks to NetGalley, Colored Pages Blog Tours, and Simon and Schuster Books for Young Readers for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

Goddamn it. I’ve been trying not to let these two become my friends, but they became my friends anyway.

---

Whatever lack of experience Bloomsbury claims he has, his inspired performance as the most vexing person I’ve ever met is certainly coming from somewhere.

---

To hell with Marlowe and Bloomsbury and all the other people who tug me into their dark intrigues and give me no lantern to light my way. I am tired of being left in the dark.

---

“We don’t need your coin!” Maggie snarls. “’Tis coin. We always need coin,” Inigo amends in a small voice.

---

Should I fail, the stakes are dire; impersonating a man of the noble class is a crime punishable by death. Though to be fair, most of the crimes in England are punishable by death.

---

’Tis a brave and dangerous thing to go about this world having dreams. A dream is even more fickle and fleeting than a life.

---

“So we’re not here to have fun?” I say, to be cetain I’m understanding Foxwell correctly. Because it very much appears as though we’re in the midst of fun.

---

’Tis Reamonn, the swashbuckling pirate lad. He prickles with knives like an adorable, bloodthirsty hedgehog.

Tour Schedule:

October 4th

@monikasbookblog - Review + Favorite Quotes

raavenreads - Review Post

October 5th

Yourlocalbookreader - Review + Reel

@monarchsandmyths - Review + Favorite Quotes

October 6th

_perpetualpages_ - Review Post

Whimsical Dragonette - Review + Favorite Quotes

October 7th

ofpagesandprint - Review + Reel

@moyashi_girl - Review Post

October 8th

@poatic.library - Review + Reel

@gingerly_reading - Review Post

October 9th

Readreviewcoffee - Review + Favorite Quotes

Spacey Ghost - Review Post

October 10th

​​@rubyraereads - Review Post

Bangalimeyreads - Review + Reel

[grandhotelabyss]

Thoughts on Hemmingway? I am so ignorant of literature, that I kinda have to take people like Logo Daedalus for their word when he says that he is basically a hacky Bukowski writter. Still I read "The Man and the Sea" and thought it was alright, but still, I'm not sure if it's just do to my more than limited knowledge and experience with real literature or if Logo's takes on literature are also "flawed" (like I dont take him serious in shit like tv shows, like he was praising that shitty "The chosen" show till it had some neocon austerity propoganda in it, ignoring how cynically "soulles" and cheap it was from the start ((also trying to say the live action One Piece isnt totall garbage which should be obvious to everybody, but thats just my own pet peeve lol))

Judgments of Hemingway have been so wrapped up in political signaling and counter-signaling since at least the advent of second-wave feminism that it's hard to know what to say—and in a different sort of signaling and counter-signaling, this time aesthetic, about the merits of minimalism vs. maximalism in narrative prose.

Politically, Hemingway was still the paragon of male chauvinism when I was educated, whereas he has now re-appeared, thanks largely to Ken Burns's (very good) PBS documentary, as the disabled trans heroine we've been waiting for. I tend to look on those kinds of shifts with amusement, since they are essentially academic squabbles, but I am glad we've caught up to his posthumous queer novel, The Garden of Eden, which I read this year and found excellent despite its supposedly being unfinished. (I think it is finished; he just knew he couldn't publish it in the '50s.) It's obviously a book written at white heat; it feels like it might combust in your hand.

The quality of that novel aside, and of The Sun Also Rises, I tend to believe he's best approached as a poet: a writer who explored his unique sensibility in his particular epoch in a brand-new style, a style that transformed not only his own language but several other languages as well (he was and remains beloved in France, Russia, China...). He is a lyric writer, fundamentally, and had a lyric writer's effect: on the very way we speak and write. His American renovation of English, his new democratization of literature, makes him a 20th-century Walt Whitman. He was also, though he didn't flaunt it, a very learned man who knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't write simply because he was stupid!

On the other hand, he's bound to look inadequate next to a preternaturally gifted true novelist like Faulkner, who was rather an American Shakespeare. Faulkner's own critique of Hemingway—here comes the minimalism vs. maximalism debate—was that he did not show courage as a writer, that, in other words, his famously rigorous style was too controlled and even too populist to touch greatness. I probably agree with this, less as a critique of Hemingway at his best than as a critique of the idea of making him the model writer whom everyone had to imitate, which is what he became in the middle of the 20th century and in some creative-writing pedagogy.

(Minimalism and maximalism should be thought of as techniques always available to any writer, to be used depending on the needs of a particular project. Even my own work exhibits both extremes, with The Quarantine of St. Sebastian House and The Class of 2000 more toward the Hemingway end of the spectrum and Portraits and Ashes and Major Arcana more toward the Faulkner. The power of the great late-20th-century American novelists—McCarthy, Morrison, DeLillo—is that they could do both, often in a single book.)

Speaking personally, I fell in love with Hemingway when I discovered him as a teen. I always had a tendency to write purple prose, so I needed to learn that minimalist lesson, and I found him at just the right time for it. Before I read him, I never knew you could do so much with so little. I could see even then that he was uneven, that The Old Man and the Sea was labored and portentous and A Farewell to Arms beautifully written but not much of a novel, compared to the perfect crystalline crispness of short stories like "Soldier's Home" or "In Another Country" or even the taut, dramatic The Sun Also Rises.

(I've never read For Whom the Bell Tolls, I should admit; you probably need to read that one to form a complete judgment.)

In short, I like Hemingway, I even love Hemingway. I would not put him in the front rank of the novelists, but I would put him in the front rank of artists who work in language, if you get my distinction. If you want to know where to start with Hemingway, I would get either a selection of short stories or The Sun Also Rises, not The Old Man and the Sea.

[quidfree]

for the r&j discourse... actually the main topic was about chatgpt is currently available in my country and someone made a post to discuss whether ai would rule the world (and concluded its not gonna be that dramatic like people imagine after he teaching chatgpt chess and asking it questions about moral dilemma). the most possible scenario is that ai will be people's mental counselor (or even the one can give advice on/effect our life choices, our morality), and specifically it will replace book/film reviewers cause chatgpt is excellent at these. and that said person made a joke about if those reviewers dont want to be replaced, they should write something that ai would 'despise' writing about; and then he gave an screenshot that he sent chatgpt a message like:

b

so i was just being nosy or whatever about that line "Shakespeare wrote r&j just to criticize love because he thought it's stupid" and thought i could ask you (admittedly i have never read r&j even it got stranlated into my mother tongue 'cause i think it wouldn't be the same when i can read it in its language and still need some motivation for shakespere's works is ...hard lol)

in the discourse, he even noted that current world with ai will be likelier a dystopia in 'Brave New World' by Aldous Huxley than the one in '1984' by 'George Owell' (which i must also admit i don't have a clue, but asking you once again to give thoughts lol)

it was so random and a lot, i know, and you always have been so kind and generous, no need to burdern yourself with this, just delete this without any qualms if this is too much

thank you ^^

interesting..... i was not expecting this to be the direction that query went in lol.

i find the whole chatgpt/ai = future moral arbiter argument so odd. it's an appeal to objective morality that i don't understand bc i don't believe that exists. humans shape morals and humans make ai. like at the end of the day when we see 'ai generated art' it's art ripped from art real people made, and likewise whatever output we get from an ai stems from some person somewhere. it ultimately is just borrowing the voice of real people and their real opinions.

shakespeare is absolutely hard because the english is old and full of references that even the english no longer understand without guidance! i think if you're interested in romeo + juliet you should absolutely watch the 1996 movie, because it's really beautifully true to the feel and emotion of the play while translating it into a modern setting which makes the text a lot more easily understood. and it's sick. mercutio is so cool. the visuals are outstanding.

i don't know that i can give a good verdict on 1984 vs brave new world as our likely future. my thoughts on those 2 books in particular were like... i remember brave new world gave me the vibe that huxley had a lot of weird sexual hangups, and like a lot of his type of author he had 50/50 valid criticisms of liberal/libertarian capitalism and moral panic over irrelevant issues. 1984 on the other hand is a very particular/time-specific critique and a lot grimmer, and as such easier to read because it's less believable a permanent future.

anw in terms of 'accuracy', a lot of elements from those books exist in our current society, but that's because most dystopia is based on the horrors of present day rather than any genius visions of the future. i will squarely admit i don't enjoy the genre, maybe because i don't like to induce existential anxiety in myself when i read or maybe because i prefer my fictitious social critiques to be less... idk, exaggerated. i feel the same way abt candide.

also your message is very kind to me anon, no need to be so hard on yourself either! i'm always happy to weigh in on random subjects of interest.

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics: Humor - In a Lovecraftian Vein.

1915: HPL's Output.

Intro: "The Simple Speller's Tale" is 1 of Howard's many attempts to steer his fellow UAPA members into using old- style English the same way he did.

In this particular effort, he tried to do so - with tongue in cheek.

In a reversal, HPL actually takes the side of 'modern' writers & equates their spelling usage with madness!

However, I've read of no other UAPA member who tried to follow in his footsteps...

The Work:

"When first among... amateurs I fell, I blushed in shame because I could not spell."

"Though skilled in numbers & at ease in prose, My letters I could never well dispose¹."

"Thoughts came abundant, language was the same; Yet none the less I... could (not) spell my name!"

"The kindly printer (with an eye for trade), A clumsy care for... my work displayed."

"Indifferent as I was, I used his art, Til critics cried, "My printer should be shot!"

"(So) boldly censured, I began to seek, A means to (prevent) the... reviewers' clique."

"My... eye in rage I cast around, When the wished-for plan I found."

"It happened on a Summer's holiday, That (thru) a madhouse gate I took my way."

"Within that bedlam² was a sage con- fined, Who... from too much study lost his mind."

"... Strolling out, in (his) watchful keeper's care, With childish sounds the madman filled the air."

"Still dreaming of his lettered days of yore, His ravings on remembered subjects bore."

"Dim came... what he used to teach, And he began to curse our... speech."

"... (Said) he, "The men that made our tongue, Were rogues... I shall have hung."

"For long established customs what care we? Come, let's tear down etymology³."

"Let spelling fly & (nothing) but sound remain; The world is mad & I alone am sane."

"(So) raved the sage; inventing, as he walked, A hundred ways to spell as talked."

"He simplified til his fancy bred, A system... as simple as his head."

"(A) scholar(ly) change he wrought, And altered, as he went, for want of thought."

"But I, attentive, heard with joyful ear, Wild distortions & perversions queer⁴."

"Why could not I defend my ill-spelled page? In progress' name & with (a) re- former's rage?"

"With hope renewed, I (hurried) home to write, And passing wonderful was my work that night."

"For classic⁵ purity I sought no more, But (made) worse blunders than before!"

"Oh fickle fortune! In a week my name, From scholar's praise attained (some) immortal fame."

"(While) other scribes with vague orthography⁶, Seized on the clever ruse & copied me."

"Today in every Skateville Amateur⁷, (Shapeless) letters pass as language pure."

"And when some... (perfectionist⁸) dares to raise, A voice (opposing) our (own) ways."

"We (know) the apt (remark) to give, (And) damn him as a... Conservative⁹!"

"Yet why on us your angry hand or wrath use? We do but ape Professor B_ M_¹⁰!"

Footnotes:

1. To arrange in a certain position.

2. Bedlam was originally the name of a London mental asylum.

The Bethlem Hospital became such a landmark, that it was visited by many tourists!

Which usually came with donations & charitable contributions...

Originally, the place was a monastery called Saint Mary of Bethlehem.

But, by the 1400s, the place became "a shelter for strangers in need."

Over time, Bedlam specialized in caring for those who couldn't care for themselves - especially the mad.

The place appears in many plays & ballads - including in Shakespeare's Hamlet & Macbeth!!

In 1676, the hospital was rebuilt to look more like a palace, complete with formal gardens & Corinthian columns!

Beggars started to pretend they were lunatics to avoid being sent to prison or a workhouse.

The palatial hospital survived til 1815, when it was torn down.

3. Etymology is the study of the changes that words go thru with the unfolding of time.

Scholars use it to find a word's origin & the change in meaning that word has gone thru.

4. Queer here would have meant "odd, peculiar, eccentric."

But, earlier it described things that were about "to spoil" or become a "ruin."

Even earlier, queer was something of a "puzzle, derision" or a "cheat."

As slang, however, it had several other meanings thruout time:

A. "To shove the queer" was actually, "To pass counterfeit money!"

B. "Queer Street" was an imaginary land peopled with persons & shady characters going thru difficulties...

C. "Queer as Dick's hatband" meant "being out of order without knowing one's disease."

D. "Queer Bitch" was an "odd, out of the way fellow."

E. "Queer Ken" described "a prison."

F. "Queer Mort" meant "a diseased strumpet."

G. "Queer Rooster" was an informer - who got his info by pretending to be asleep."

H. "To queer the pitch" described a traveling tradesman's & a showman's 'performance' being "interfered with" - usually by a policeman.

The "homosexual" sense appears by 1922.

5. The sense here seems to be classic English not Classical Roman & Greek.

So, Lovecraft's beloved 1800s English.

6. Orthography means "the correct spelling & punctuation for any used language."

7. Skateville is a city in Minnesota. One of Howard's friends, D.A. Wandrei, was from St. Paul.

Wandrei actually hitchhiked all the way from Minnesota - to visit HPL in Providence!

Later in life, Wandrei & A. Derleth co- founded Arkham House to keep Love- craft's stories in print.

Without this venture it's doubtful that Howard's work would ever have be- come as popular as they are right now.

But, HPL is probably writing about some amateur press association in Skateville...

8. Lovecraft has to be parodying him- self here in these 2 couplets.

9. This was the name of Howard's own political magazine The Conservative, in which this poem 1st appeared.

10. What last human name rhymes with "use"?

Could be interesting...

Also, HPL was talking about the now discredited teaching 'technique' of hitting (& shouting at?) students.

End.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

High School AU's (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

A Movie I Wanna See (ao3) - secretlyryanross luke/ashton N/R, 4k

Summary: Luke works at his local movie theatre and is asked to stay over late to help Ashton clean theatres. No problem, right? Well, one problem. He has a huge crush on Ashton.

Ashton Enchanted (ao3) - boomercal calum/ashton N/R, 46k

Summary: ❝It starts with a fairy casting a spell

this one's on Ashton, who you'll come to know well❞

Ashton was given a special 'gift' when he was only a few days old, the 'gift' of obedience. He has never been in love, never had friends and is content to keep it that way until a friendly girl in his class decides she wants to be his friend. Then Ashton has to come to terms with trusting those around him, maintaining his first friendships and managing his first real crush.

But I'm too far gone (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton E, 1k

Summary: Ashton knows nothing about Shakespeare and Luke gets a handjob in the back of the english classroom.

Casual Affair (ao3) - bitchnluke luke/ashton, michael/calum E, 19k

Summary: Ashton is a nerd and a wallflower in a big school full of high schoolers that hate him. Luke Hemmings is a classic jock who fucks anything he sees or talks to, but knows nothing about Ashton's little school boy crush. What happens when they cross paths one night?

Club of Misfits (ao3) - felixandtae luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 274k

Summary: ❝Everyone has flaws. You me, Michael and Ashton - we’re all just a club of misfits.❞

A club for those who need a friend created by two best friends.

Endlessly (ao3) - thesoulsailor calum/ashton, michael/luke E, 27k

Summary: Calum is the undisputed king of his high school, Ashton speaks through colours, Luke doesn't let anybody touch him and Michael is so getting killed by for hiding that snake in their teacher's drawer.

how did we end up talking in the first place? (ao3) - hemmingscliffords michael/luke E, 3k

Summary: Michael works in a coffee shop on Saturdays and he's kind of lame. Luke walks in and Michael kind of falls in love right then and there.

Like A Hurricane (ao3) - The_girl_of_the_fandoms_18 luke/ashton G, 4k

Summary: Luke thinks loving Ashton is like loving a storm.

Or,

Luke is in love with one of his best friends and almost hates himself for it.

make you blush (ao3) - dazedlight (opinionoutpost) luke/ashton T, 5k

Summary: "Luke peers up, and he's sure his heart does stop this time as he shrinks in on himself, worrying at his bottom lip. He really doesn't need this right now. In fact, he needs the opposite of this – he really, really doesn't want to talk to Ashton Irwin at this moment, or any moment, to be honest, because he thinks his stomach might fall out of his ass if he tries."

Or, Luke is a dweeby Year 10 who has a crush on the star of the musical.

Mamihlapinatapei (My Brothers Best Friend) (ao3) - flowercrownmikey michael/luke T, 46k

Summary: Luke is reckless and sweet, and falls head over heels in love with his brothers best friend.

Michael's Dirty Diary (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance michael/luke E, 32k

Summary: Why did Luke find somebody's diary? Why did he even want to read it when he knew he should not? The things he was reading were shocking but he could not help but read more, specially since he was involved. Who was that Michael anyway? Luke had to find out.

No Chance (ao3) - iCheeseYou (EHkook) michael/luke, calum/ashton T, 72k

Summary: So Ashton's going on a road trip with his friend, Calum, and he invited me to tag along. Being the adventurous shit I am, I said yes, but I wouldn't have if I knew that Luke Hemmings was going as well. God, I hate that guy, and the feeling's mutual. Why does that annoying brat have to come along? And Ashton and Calum expect us to be friends? Yeah, right. There's no chance that Luke Hemmings and I, Michael Clifford, are ever going to get along.

on again, off again. (love you like oxygen) (ao3) - xelated luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 8k

Summary: Ashtons senior year was anything but smooth sailing.

Purple bruises, faded scars and fresh cuts (ao3) - Unholy michael/ashton, luke/calum, luke/ashton E, 140k

Summary: Or a soulmate au where everyone gets their soulmate’s injuries on their own body and Michael is worried sick about his.

something's telling me you're the one (ao3) - rocketshiptospace luke/ashton T, 9k

Summary: or, luke has a crush on ashton, who's totally out of his league and someone's leaving him little notes in his locker.

the kids will be alright, eventually (ao3) - wafflelashton luke/ashton T, 45k

Summary: ashton falls in love with his best friend, luke, and is somehow the last to know.

two paper airplanes flying (ao3) - dazedlight (opinionoutpost) michael/luke T, 21k

Summary: Michael and Luke are neighbours, and, to get his attention, Michael starts sending Luke cute notes in the form of paper airplanes.

White Noise (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton E, 7k

Summary: Luke and Ashton have massive crushes on each other, Ashton throws a party, and all of Luke's dreams come true. (Maybe they're a tiny bit in love too. Maybe.)

[inthehytes]

I was tagged by my bbies @sapphicsupremacist and @glittertrail to answer some stuffs!!! Thank you my pals 🥺💕

1. Are you named after anybody?

Yes! A horrible old woman I’ve never met apart from when I was a fresh baby <3 she’s got a terrible name too. I couldn’t have been named something cooler? Okay i digress

2. When was the last time you cried?

Uhhhhhhh surprisingly not this year! It was the last week of last year and it was because I felt like absolute ass and couldn’t get comfy enough to sleep and was exhausted 🙃

3. Do you have kids?

Gross no

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yes of course

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Usually what they’re wearing cause despite having no style myself I really like looking at fashion and clothes 😌

6. What’s your eye color?

Brown :(

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happpy endings 1000%. I’m a sappy little bitch.

8. Any talents?

Uhhhh not really? I can kind of sing but also who can’t so I don’t count it.

9. Where were you born?

South Carolina/America 🫣🫥🤢

10. What are your hobbies?

Recently gotten back into heavily playing video games and I’m working on improving at digital art! I watch a decent bit of anime too and like to read!

11. Do you have any pets?

Yes! Three dogs!! Maggie(15), Cooper (6 on Jan 19), and Willow(7 months) 💕

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

I did gymnastics competitively until I got hurt and my parents made me quit and from there I went and did cheerleading!

13. How tall are you?

5’3”/160 cm

14. Favorite subject in school?

I really liked English except for the part where we read Shakespeare and Steinbeck and I wanted to 💀

15. Dream job?

Trophy wife me pls

16. Sunrise or sunsets?

Sunsets definitely! They’re so pretty where I live and feel like a nice way to end.

If you wanna do this consider yourself tagged!!! 💕

[ukiyokki]

mars reads too much dreamnotfound fanfiction for their own good

a dreamnotfound fanfic recommendation list by your resident dumbass (me)

this took way to fucking long... i’m tired

below is a (very extensive) list dedicated to all my favorite dnf fics, ranging from quick one shots to 100k+ word monstrosities that devour the storage on my computer, forever incomplete masterpieces to ongoing works of art, you get the idea. i provided links for each fic/series for your reading pleasure. there will be no smutty/nsfw fics on this list, that’s just not my vibe lmao. this list goes in no particular order, and i’ll update it from time to time when i feel like it. now, without further ado, let us begin.

Heat Waves (complete) by tbhyourelame

(wtf else did you expect, looking at a dnf rec list?) amazingly well written, and while it’s not my favorite dnf fic it’s damn near close. in the midst of a brutal heatwave, a suffering dream comes to terms with the fact that he is desperately in love with his best friend. everything i could say about this fic has already been said by nearly everyone who’s read it, so if you haven’t yet caved into the hype, just go for it. you won’t be disappointed.

Gonna be around (completed) by georgescatcafe

(mc irl) my favorite dnf oneshot to date. just read it, i don’t wanna spoil for you :)

Inferno in the Sky (ongoing)by zairielon

(star wars au) an ongoing star wars au currently clocking in at almost 200k words. need I say more? everything about it absolutely slaps, each chapter is amazingly written, and it’s just good. also, can we just appreciate dream and tubbos dynamic in here? 10/10, amazing, must protecc. oh right, a summary: george, an exiled padawan turned engineer, must return to the jedi temple after attacks on it from an unknown assailant threaten the safety of himself and the other jedi.

Like Magic (ongoing) by KangarooKen, NotGra55 (Gra55)

(harry potter au) the unofficial official dnf harry potter au. we watch the young unlikely wizard pair grow up together throughout their years at hogwarts as they battle good old fashioned wizard racism. beautifully written, incredibly fun and suspenseful, and just an overall blast and a half.

GeorgeNotFound, Son of Poseidon, and the League of Minor Gods (ongoing) by Clichewho_69, Cygnvs, Trash_Kinggg

(percy jackson au) percy jackson au? check. “road trip” (technically quest but u get what i mean)? check. enemies to friends to lovers? check. this fic follows the plot of the lightning theif (albeit loosely), but everything is explained enough where you don’t have to read percy jackson to understand what’s going on. basically after moving to the usa, george gets taken to camp halfblood where he learns that a) gods exist. b) he’s the son of poseidon and c) he needs to prove that he didn’t steal zeus’s master bolt.

Protected (completed) by aenqua

(royalty/camelot au) my favorite piece of dnf media of all time. dubbed the official dnf camelot au, where dream is the heir to the throne and george is a servants son with a secret that couldp get him killed. these childhood friends grow up together and learn trust, love, and acceptance. (that summary did not justice to the masterpiece that is this fic) here’s the directors cut

The Hunter (completed) by HederEgo

(mc irl) a choose your own adventure fic with 13 different endings, where dream the hunter must kill george and stop him from beater the ender dragon. enough said.

The official dream team cowboy AU (series)(ongoing) by antsu_in_my_pantsu

(cowboy au) cowboys and outlaws horses and shit. and the big gay. it’s a cowboy au, what else did you expect? fucking yee haw (all seriousness this is a great read, i loved it so so so so much and i can’t wait for the final chapter to release).

This is a Drista moment, let's just accept it (completed) by Qekyo

dnf fic from drista pov. considering its unique perspective, it’s perfectly done. beautifully showcases a sibling relationship through drista and her memories/moments with dream, and it just works, y’a know? also drista supremacy.

Dear Dream (completed) by Qekyo

(wwii au) i don’t cry when watching/reading anything sad. translation: i’m a heartless bitch. however, this fic is the only exception. it caused me to cry so hard my mom walked in my room and asked if i was ok. ‘nuff said.

TECHNOlogical Wingman (completed) by Closeted_Bookworm

techno is the autocorrect ai on dreams phone, and he gains sentience. interesting concept, and the author fucking nailed it. great fic.

It Was Only a Fic (ongoing) by imagineitdear

dream starts reading a dnf fanfic (we’ve all been there buddy).

Teacher’s Pet (ongoing) by niyuha

(teacher au) in which dream is a high school english teacher and george is the new comp sci teacher in room 297.

Saltwater Secrets (ongoing) by earlgay_milktea

(mermaid/high school au) a great example of the shear amount of variety in fics this fandom has to offer. when i started reading dnf fics i would have never thought i’d find one about a mermaid george hopelessly crushing on his human friend, who happens to be his schools star swimmer. yet here i am, and i am far from disappointed.

Smash My Heart (incomplete) by dontrollthedice

george and sapnap are commentators for duper smash brothers tournaments, and george develops a crush on an up and coming smash streamer named dream.

roleplaying in the dark is harder than it seems (completed) by Alienu

laser tag. 10/10

solar system (completed) by quartzfia

(mc irl) george vists dream in pandora’s vault.

Ramblings of a Lunatic (completed) by jungkooksfic

ahh communicating through a notebook left on a shelf in a bookstore- what a perfect way to start a relationship.

Paint me like your French Girls (It's Charcoal, Actually) (completed) by Turtle_ier

(artist au) george is an art student, and dream is a model.

00:00:00 (completed) by isleofdreams

(soulmate au) 00:00:00 is the moment you meet your soulmate, as indicated but the clock ticking down on your wrist until the moment you meet. i’m not a fan of soulmate aus; this fic is the exception.

Blue Skies Smilin' At Me (completed) by kivy

(artist au) i don’t usually cry while reading stuff, but this brought me damn near close. george is a painting conservator and chats it is with the ghost of the artist if the painting he is working on. they fall in a love.

Current Location (incomplete) by hendollana

(influencer au) george simps for a hot american instagram model. who knew he’d actually follow back?

The Withering (series) (series ongoing, 1 work completed) by App1e_Juice

(mc irl) lore and world building and fight scenes and everything i crave. what’s not to love? something starts making the plants and crops around dreams village wither, and must team up with new friends to find the cause of the mysterious disease plaguing the land.

Minecraft, But You Can't Leave (complete) by facadecake

(mc irl) dream and george are sucked into their own private minecraft world together and must beat the game to escape.

Free The Game, Beat the End (incomplete) by goatgoatwasfound

(mc irl) a glitch in minecraft causes thousands of players from around the world to be trapped inside minecraft, with only one way of escape- beating the ender dragon. first dnf fic i ever read, and it’s still 10/10 for me.

Why don't you come a little closer? (completed) by lifeofandoms

george gets stood up by a date, and Dream pretends he’s the date to save george from the embarrassment. simply adorable.

lightning bug (completed) by saintachesP

(band au) while on tour, dream realizes his feeling for george.

Hold me closer (completed) by Treesofmyheart

(mc irl/dsmp) i just,, really like this trope.

Dizzy on caffeine (completed) by GleamingGreenGoggles

(coffee shop au) best dnf coffeeshop au i’ve read. periodt.

living a life of crime isn’t always easy (series) (completed) by itisjosh

(mafia/assassin au) stockholm syndrome except it’s not weird.

Inhibitions Make Interesting Situations (completed) by Ship_On_The_Sea

i pissed myself laughing. it’s just a dream and george being hilariously dense, flustered idiots. serotonin central.

thy eternal summer shall not fade (completed) by gracequills

(high school au) that moment when you recite shakespeare to your crush in your ap lit class instead of confessing (hate it when that happens).

All is Fair in love and Football (ongoing) by graciegirl2001

(college au) #1 favorite college au. in which george is a cheerleader, and dream is the football teams rising star player. this one gets extra points because of the amazing karlnap moments sprinkled throughout. *chefs kisses air*

online love (completed) by andbutso

(high school au) online classes go zoooooooom

Can’t help falling (completed) by isleofdreams

dream re-learns the guitar to sing to george on his birthday. beautiful. fluffy. amazing

dance in the rain and my arms (completed) by lazy_kitkat

george is a rain god, and dream is a wind god

Weather Boy (completed) by DaintyDiizzle

wouldn't you like to know, weather boy? (where dream can control the rain)

The color orange (completed) by anon

(mc irl) dream describes the colors of a sunset

Family Mode (completed)by Strawberry_flavoured_tears

they’re dads :,)

Breathing Room (incomplete) by papercranes

(band an) an amazing band au. the mad lad author wrote original songs for each chapter. above and beyond, mad props :). unfortunately, it’s incomplete

Piece of Clay (completed) by carbonbrine

(artist au) george is a sculptor and his sculpture comes to life- but oh no he’s hot.

Try (completed) by Not4typicalwriter

(royalty au) george must choose a suitor, but none of them are up to dream, his head knights, standards. or dream is hella jelly. also protective dream is perfect

When the Roses Bloom (completed) by HederEgo

(royalty au) close second for my favorite fic. go to royalty au for a quick serotonin bost. it’s all fluff and flowers and crushes, and i love it. criminally underrated.

Heavenstruck (ongoing) by dontrollthedice

george is dreams guardian angel, and dream want to find out more about him and his past life. bittersweet :,)

Bang and Burn (completed) by App1e_Juice

(spy au) george accidentally falls for target number 1 on sapnap’s secret agency’s hit list. this ones great, i love me a spy au :)

Can I get a uhh… (completed) by lemonskies

dream keeps pulling up to the drive through mcdonald’s that george works at drunk.

Pretty Stranger (completed) by anon

when looking for dream in the terminal, george sees a cute guy and decides to flirt.

Take my Hand (completed) by latinbias

(royalty au) another royalty au? poggers. surprise twists? double poggers. love this a lot.

seconds, minutes, hours, lifetimes (complete) by meridies

ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP *inhales to compose herself* roadtrip au. unrequited love, ignored feelings, longing, pining, you know the drill. absolutely love this one, its the best roadtrip au i have ever read, in any fandom. (maybe cause i identify with it a little too much, but thats not important. whats important is that you read this fic. right now. im waiting).

Message redacted (complete) by justyouraverageloser

(text fic) dream asks for a girls number and realises hes been given the wrong number. however, an unexpected relationship starts to form between him and the stranger on the other end of the line.

the waves (completed) by anon

(mc irl) this fic was written by the same anon who wrote the color orange, which is up there on my fav dnf oneshot list. dream and george know they have a higher purpose. they don’t know where they came from, or why they are seemingly the only humans in the world, or how they feel about eachother, or even where the skeletons come from, but they are sure of one thing: they have to beat a dragon.

The Dream Doll (completed) by PeppDream (Pep_Pizza)

(voodoo i guess) i’m a real big fan of fics with really out there or unique concepts, so naturally this one makes the cut! i really liked it, it’s really sweet and made me think a lot about what matters to me in the world. george finds a strange doll in an antique shop, and would really like to just stuff it in a drawer and forget about it. sadly (?), the doll has other plans.

last updated February 6th, 2021

[roger-that-cap]

what a lovely dream it is

english major!wanda x english major!fem!reader

summary: who would have thought that wanda, the self proclaimed queen of reading science fiction, would be just as obsessed with shakespeare as you? 

warnings: one use of the word “su*cide”. shakespeare. nerds quoting lines. bad writing. (i challenged myself into writing this in an hour and a half). cringey writing (there is a difference)

word count: 4k!

You and Wanda connected at first because you two spoke the same language from different regions. It felt like she spoke British English, and you spoke American English. You were on the same wavelength but not exactly the same individual wave, but it was as close as you had ever gotten with someone who you deemed worth your time. 

While everyone else was partying or drinking until they threw up or flaunting around bags with white powder in them, you sat with your back to the wall after studying, reading a classic, knowing that the change of her leaning against the same wall and doing the exact same thing you were was high. 

You met her in the library, on your third day at your university. You were trying to find your group of authors, your little nook where you would feel the safest in the entire school. You had stumbled right into the fantasy section, looked around for a second, and then tripped over a brown boot that was just at the start of the science fiction shelf. 

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice murmured, and you just shook your head and said that it was okay, much more interested in the way that your hands suffered from the fall on the carpet than the girl. Until you looked up. 

It was everything about her that stunned you. The brown hair, the flush of her cheeks, the apologetic look in her pale blue eyes that caressed her features to sit in one beautiful and genuine expression. The moment your eyes landed on her, you swore that your heart stopped and started in the same second, and then took a run for it with all of the parts of your brain that you needed to make a coherent thought. 

 You promised yourself in that moment that you would never forget the way the woman in front of you looked. And despite seeing hundreds of more faces throughout your self-tour, you never truly did forget it. If you didn’t know any better, if you were perhaps any younger and less exposed to the cruelty of the world and fate and its way of not giving you what you wanted, you would have been certain that the universe had finally given you the contemporary meet cute that you yearned for. 

But then, you saw which aisle she was in. You looked at the books and recognized the authors just to be sure, and then you turned to look at her. “You’re into science fiction?” 

 Her apologetic look fell completely into a look of pure surprise, and then excitement, almost as if she thought that she found someone else who liked the genre she did. “Well, it’s the best genre that was ever written.” 

  “Wow, how wrong,” you found yourself saying, and somehow, you knew that the look of offense on her face was all for fun. “It’s definitely gothic literature.” The look she gave you was one that you would never forget. 

  A week later, you ran into her in the cafeteria, holding a copy of The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, your beat up one from home that you would put your life on the line for. The cover was torn up a bit and the pages were dog eared, from a time where you hadn’t discovered the way that bookmarks changed lives. It was the copy your cousin got you, and it was your favorite gift to date. 

  She was holding The Martian Chronicles. You nearly gagged. 

At first, you thought she hadn’t seen you, or hadn’t recognized you, which was even worse. You sighed under your breath and said, “at least it’s not Nineteen Eighty Four,” and watched in complete horror as she turned around. 

She locked eyes with you immediately, and her own eyes widened when she saw you, and then she grinned when she undoubtedly recognized you and your disdain for science fiction. “No, it’s even better than Nineteen Eighty Four.” 

“Anything is better than that,” you said, swallowing down your nerves at speaking to the girl again, kicking yourself for being so nervous despite not even knowing her name. 

She gave you that same “offended” look she gave you during your first interaction, and you cracked a small smile. “Um, don’t you voluntarily go into the gothic section?” 

The smile dropped. “The most valid section in the library? Sure do.” 

She smiled too, a genuine grin as she took a step forward and extended her hand. For a second, you just looked at it, the calmness that came with the discussion of literature suddenly washed away so far back into your mind that you panicked for a moment, not reaching for her hand until you saw it shake in just the slightest, like she was regretting even doing it. 

You nearly bumped your elbow on the table trying to stand up and shake her hand. Your hands connected and you grinned so wide it felt like your face had split open. You told her your name and she repeated it to make sure she had heard you loud and clear, and then, she smiled even brighter. 

“Nice to meet you, Dracula. I’m Wanda.” And that was where it started. 

As your library meetups started to become more intentional than not, you learned that not only was Wanda a student that stayed in the dorms, but the student who was next door to you. You learned that she pretty much kept to herself for the most part besides a few other people at the university, and that she kept a small circle. You learned that her favorite book was Brave New World. You learned that she would rather shy away from classic romance novels, even though you didn’t mind them, and that she hated gothic literature. You loved it. Your favorite book was The Picture of Dorian Gray, for god's sake. So, you hated each other’s favorite genres. 

  But you both loved symbolism. And you were both English majors. And for some very odd, very coincidental reason, you both met in what was nowhere near the middle- Shakespearean plays. 

  Now, that was something that you were always made fun of for as a child. No one wanted to hang out with the girl who quoted Shakespeare, especially if it wasn’t even from Romeo and Juliet. Reading normal books just made you look “smart”, but you knew that genuinely enjoying plays would make you look pretentious. So you had always kept it to yourself when you left your hometown. Until Wanda came along. 

Wanda came along, and suddenly, you found yourself quoting tragedies and getting the correct response back. Sometimes, she would even start it first. You would do nerdy things like halfway reenact scenes because even you guys weren’t that nerdy… you supposed. 

One morning, you and Wanda were in a study group (that was hardly productive because it was just Wanda’s little circle that was actually astoundingly close), and she looked over your shoulder to see your computer, where you were hardly typing an essay about the importance of the establishment of places for higher education. She put her chin against your shoulder, sat there for a minute, and then turned her head to whisper in your ear, “nothing will come of nothing.” It was embarrassing, the way your eyes lit up at hearing her voice, and even more so when Natasha, Wanda’s extremely perceptive friend, picked up on what you were feeling. The red head shot you the widest grin ever known to man. 

“C’mere, Frankenstein,” Wanda said one night, already looking over at you while you tried to finish your work for the day.

You held back the smile on your face as you sat on your bed, one leg over it while you typed. “I’m right here.” 

“No, here,” she emphasized, and then she was patting the spot on the small couch in your room, the same look in her eyes that always came with when she asked for any kind of physical contact. 

  That was by far the worst thing about Wanda, and it hardly had anything to do with her. She was touch starved, and touch was your love language. Her asking you to hold her on the couch used to mean nothing to you, because at one point, you just thought she was pretty. But now, holding her hand on top of the table while you both were submerged in your respective worlds felt like a promise ring. Letting her rest her head on your shoulder and in your neck felt like giving your vulnerability over to her, and feeling her hand rub against your back felt like she was taking it and guarding it. But you knew she didn’t feel the same way, not at all. 

She was straight. 

But it did you no good when she quoted back some of your favorite lines. It didn’t help when she said all of the romantic lines towards you at the drop of a hat, almost like she didn’t even realize what she was saying. She didn’t understand the way your heart died and was revived every time she said something like that, something that was so dear and vulnerable to you. And she certainly never would, because you would never tell her. 

Now that you thought about it, allowing yourself to fall for her was the dumbest and most destructive thing you could have ever done. The first bookworm who didn’t make fun of you for your knowledge and love of old plays was the one that took hold of your heart, and now you were paying for being such an idiot. Now you would have to sit through three more years of school with her being your friend, just your friend, while you pined over her. It was going to be hell.  

And was it. You had to sit through her saying the most romantic of Shakespearean quotes every day and act like she wasn’t making your heart shake. You had to listen to her speaking the language that you two shared and pretend that you just wanted to be her friend. You were so attached to her and everything that you two had established together, and you couldn’t ruin it by giving her googly eyes. She was way too important for that. Because now, she was way more than a person who you could talk to about old plays. She was the person that you could talk to about anything, without a doubt. Anything but the intense crush that you were harboring for her, and the way that she made your heart sing and your soul ascend whenever you smelled her perfume or saw her smile. Anything but that. 

§§

 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” You looked up from your book only to see Wanda looking over at you, lying down on the blanket and just watching you. You swore later on when you were alone that you imagined it, but for a moment you could have sworn that you saw a flash of adoration in her eyes. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” 

You were choking on the inside. Your face was blank, but your mind was going haywire, and you couldn't think of anhytnign besides holding back the urge to say something that you had no chance of taking back. “You’re in a sonnet mood today, aren’t you?” 

“And what mood are you in today, Jekyll?” 

“I’m in the mood to finish this book,” you teased, and she rolled her eyes. 

“What if I’m in the mood to sit and watch a movie?” 

“Then you should do it,” you said, going the way your heart clenched at the thought of her cutting your friendly outing short. “I’ll follow you in an hour or two.”

She gave you a look. “You know I don’t go anywhere without you.”  

“You can go watch a movie, Wands.” You sighed out, closing your book and wedging your pointer finger between the pages so that you wouldn't get lost. 

 “I’ll wait,” she said, and you shook your head at her. 

“I don’t want to hold you back from getting in time with your favorite sci fi movies.”

“Can I go forward when my heart is here?”  

You were hit with such a wave of longing that you had to shut your eyes for a moment, but it looked like it was simply a long blink. “You’re so cheesy.” 

“I want to hear one,” Wanda said, leaning on her elbows as she stared up at you, and your heart pounded. She looked celestial, glowing under the sunlight with growing grass around her and a sweet smile budding on her face. “You never quote any back to me anymore, you know?” 

You knew, for sure. It was on purpose that you didn’t quote back. If you were to continue the conversation in romantic quotes, it was going to feel way too real to you. You could handle Wanda and her touches, but you were not going to be able to handle quoting Romeo and Juliet to her. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, and then you heard her make a sound with her tongue, a displeased clicking noise.

  You looked up at her and lost your breath again, and your mental footing. There she was, looking up at you with her pretty eyes, giving you a look more intense than she had ever given you before. She was… it was almost like she was waiting for something, like she knew something. She was staring up at you and leaning on her hand in a way that was so oddly domestic in your mind, and you could almost see in your mind the way that she would do that if you woke up in the same bed, like she was waiting for you to wake up and trying to memorize your face. It made you warm on the inside, and just like she always managed to do, your brain turned to mush. 

“Conscience doth make cowards of us all,” you blurt, and you saw her brows pull in for a second. You blinked. 

  “Huh?” 

You were panicking on the inside. There were plenty of ways that she could have taken the quote that you had chosen, but you knew exactly what it sounded like. A half assed love confession. “You know, from Hamlet,” 

“Of course I know it’s from Hamlet, Jekyll.” She shook her head at you and sat up, crossing her legs without breaking eye contact. “But why that quote? You know so many, and you chose the one about death.” 

Unfortunately, it’s death by silence in this context, not by swords. “You said you wanted to hear a line,” you said, shrugging as you opened your book, trying to get rid of the embarrassment that you knew would stick to you for hours and hours. 

 “What a line,” she said, and then she rolled over to look up at the sky. Minutes later, you heard her sigh. “What a line.” 

§§

Romeo + Juliet was a classic for your movie night. At first, Wanda showed it to you after you boycotted it for years, despite your male celebrity crush being one of the main characters in it. You had always avoided watching because of the modernism, but one Wanda made you sit down and watch it, you actually found good things about it. For instance, the party scene. 

  “It was done wonderfully,” Wanda would always say from beside you after your extremely predictable comment of the scene being a masterpiece. 

Like always, there were a few moments of silence as you two watched the movie together, shoulder to shoulder on the small couch in your dorm while your roommate was off getting high. You watched the rest of it in near silence, halfway focused on the movie while the other part of your mind was split in two; feeling blessed that Wanda was even there with you, soclose, and feeling cursed that she was so close but so far. It was the perfect moment to hold her close like you wanted to so badly, but the timing wasn’t right. And that killed you. 

“Do you ever think about how they fell in love so fast?” Wanda asked, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’d say that they were encroaching on soulmate territory.” 

“Soulmates, or foolish teenagers?” 

“I hardly know of any teenagers who would die for each other, even if they thought they were in love,” Wanda pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at her. “Don’t give me that face. I’m right, and you know it.” 

“I’ll always let you believe it, sci fi.” 

“But, really, don’t you ever want something like that?” 

You turned your face from the screen and looked at her incredulously, like she had gone mad while completing the process of growing three heads. “A suicide pact?” 

She groaned and threw her head back. “No. A love like that. Take away the death and violence, and look at what they had.” 

“It bloomed too quickly to have much potential later in life,” you countered. “That was infatuation, and that never lasts long.”

“You think that they both died for infatuation?”

“I think that they were young, and it’s hard to tell the difference between love and infatuation at any age, let alone as a teenager. I think they thought they loved each other to the ends of the earth, but I guess they’ll never know.” 

“You’re so cynical. Just like a person whose favorite is gothic literature.” You laughed, leaning forward towards her without even noticing what you were doing. “Do you believe in love?” 

“Of course I do,” you answered, giving her a look. “I’m just saying, Romeo and Juliet were not in true love. They were confused.” 

Then, the playful air that the conversation was flowing on changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash and your heart started racing. The way Wanda was looking at you sent a chill down your spine, and in that moment, you were worried. “Are you confused?” 

You took in a breath. “About what?” 

“About anything,” she said slowly, almost like she felt like she was walking on thin ice with skates on. “Books, people, love, food, sexuality,” she ignored the way that you choked, “writing a paper, how to get  a strike in bowling. Or how to realize that Romeo and Juliet were definitely in love.” 

“You’re so intent on proving that they were to me,” you said, a laugh bubbling over and into your words. “Why are you suddenly so passionate about them now?” 

“The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.” 

Your heart jumped out of your chest again, and your hands clenched into weak  fists as you tried to will yourself into not assuming that she was talking about you. And then, white hot panic struck you at the thought of her being in love with someone else. “Speak low if you speak of love.” 

“Why should I?” Wands asked, shifting from her position on the couch to put a hand under her chin and watch you, her kind eyes afire with something that you had yet to see in them yet. “Really, Jekyll. Why?”

You hardly waited a full second before responding as truthfully as you ever would. “I’m afraid.” Before she could get a word in, you shook your head and finally loosened your lips, letting all of your worries and fears slide right through your teeth. “I’m afraid that I’ve fallen in love with someone who can never love me back. I’m scared to admit that I’ve been in love with you for a long time.  I’m afraid that you aren’t into girls.” You saw her make a face, almost like she couldn't believe that you were even suggesting the things that you were. “I don’t quote Shakespeare to you anymore because it feels too real to have you say lines like that back to me. I think that I’ve latched onto you without even meaning to, and now I don’t know if I can ever let you go.” 

Wanda was silent. She was watching you, as quietly as the sun hovered over the earth while she shone her light. Your heart had never beat so fast before as you watched her watch you with a face so blank that you were sure that she hadn’t retained a damn thing that you pulled from the depths of your heart. Then, the daunting thought that she had heard and understood everything but chose not to act swallowed you whole, and your hands started to shake. You gave a humorless laugh and finally looked away from the woman who had raised your spirits and crushed them all within five minutes. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” 

“I’m so sorry.” You repeated, shaking your head and closing your eyes for a second as hot tears burned in them. When they opened, a fat tear sappetered onto your hand. I’m such an idiot. You looked to the screen, and then saw Romeo screaming, on the ground, and you could hear the words even though your ears were rushing with blood. I defy you, stars. “You don't have to say anything back, I know you don’t feel the same.” Your eyes pulled away from the screen. “I can leave- wait, um, this is my dorm. I-” 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” Wanda started slowly, and your brows furrowed as you heard the words fall from her lips. Fuck. You knew what this ended with, and still, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

Your eyes were wide by the end of it, watery and fixed on her. “W-what?” 

“How could you not have known?” Wanda asked softly, and you but your lip to stop from bursting into tears. 

“I thought you were straight!” You accused, and to your surprise, she laughed. 

“No, sweetheart.” Your heart stuttered. “I’m not.” 

Your breathing was still slightly heavy as you tried to get a  grip on everything that was happening. “You… you feel the same way?” 

“Of course I do, Jekyll.” She said, and you found yourself falling for her expressive eyes all over again as she stared up at you.  You reached your hand out experimentally, like she did the second time you ever met, and you waited that torturous moment for her to take your hand in a way that was much different than all the other times you shared a touch. This touch was the moment of truth.

She took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and put your palm on her cheek. 

“The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service.” 

“This can’t be anything but a dream,” you murmured, feeling her cheek in your hand and the way they were warm and flushed. The softness was bringing you in and out of your head, and every time you went back to reality, you were thrusted into a little sliver of paradise. 

“Well, what a lovely dream it is, then.” Her lips found yours. The movie played on, the clock kept its incessant ticking, and your leg was starting to tingle from sitting on it in the same position for so long. But to you, time absolutely stopped. And as long as a particular science fiction nerd was in front of you, nothing that ticked or clicked or buzzed was ever going to matter. 

*******

i said i wasn’t going to post this, but i did it anyway!! hope you guys enjoyed this fic!! it was a lot of fun to write but it also made me mad nervous LMAO let’s hope this wasn’t absolute dogshit

@teenwonder i know you said you wanted a tag on my stuff so here it is, love!! 💕💕

[petruchio]

hello! as the shakespeare expert you are, i come to you for advice. i've never read any of his works but i really want to. the problem is english isn't my mother tongue and i'm a bit intimidated by the original versions. i do read in english, quite a lot in fact, but i'm afraid of struggling with the 'old language' and not really enjoying the works. do you know any versions that are easier to read (but not like, for kids)? what do you recommend i do? thanks a lot <33

aww! well you are very sweet to call me an expert. i am sure there’s tons of people (on this website alone honestly) who are even more qualified than me to answer this but thank you for sending this to me :’)

i don’t totally know that i have the most coherent advice because english *is* my first language so it’s hard for me to know exactly what that experience would be like? but! nevertheless i do have a suggestion and that is — don’t just read shakespeare!!! watch it!!!!!!!

shakespeare is pretty much always better when you are seeing it performed. since we’re not the romantics, i’m willing to put it out there that their whole ‘the version of the play in my head will be undoubtedly better than anything an actor can perform’ is like, okay fine, but that’s not really the point of theater lol. so let’s be modern shakespeare consumers and acknowledge the importance of the stage ;)

there’s so much to be gained from watching shakespeare on the stage (or even in a movie!) and a lot of times, it’s way easier to keep track of what’s going on when you have actors who you’re seeing visually on the stage rather than trying to hold them all in your head. plus, there’s a lot of theater that has nothing at all to do with the actual language, and the physical comedy or the physical tragedy that you see is often just as important as the text. and the text will almost always be even further illuminated by hearing it said aloud. the actual words are never the whole point.

that’s not to suggest that the language is immaterial to shakespeare — but one thing i love about any shakespeare play is that it can always be enjoyed on multiple levels. doing a close reading of one short passage can be just as rewarding as sitting back and just letting the story wash over you without caring much for the specifics of what they’re saying.

so that’s my main piece of advice if you are wanting to get into shakespeare! don’t worry too much about the language — it’ll come with time. just sit back and watch it just purely to enjoy it! in my experience, before you know it, you’ll be so caught up in the story that you won’t even notice the “old language” anymore. and the more you experience it, the more natural that language will feel, and then maybe someday it’ll be easier to read shakespeare and just understand it from the jump. (or maybe not! that’s fine too. there’s no shame in reading a summary before you read each scene. seriously — make it easy for yourself. no one is judging you for it, and if they are, they’re wrong. you can tell them i said that.)

so yeah :) i would say just pick a play that interests you and watch it! maybe try turning on the captions and reading along if you want to read the language, but i would always start with a production, especially if you’re reading it on your own. i rarely sit down and just read a play start to finish (except in college classes, and then i had a professor going into excruciating detail about it, and a whole room of people to discuss it with.) more often than not, especially if it’s a play ive never encountered before, i would much prefer going to see a production! also, if you really want to read shakespeare, the sonnets could also be good to explore because they’re short and are just little nuggets of language and you can really dive in deep.

but yeah — for any of the plays, especially to start, i would really say to watch shakespeare before you try to just read it!!

[rein-ette]

Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— PALM TO PALM IS HOLY PALMER’S KISS ; PART 3 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1846

SUMMARY: You’re back to teaching at Gotham High and you end up overlooking rehearsals for the GHS drama club’s upcoming annual play: Romeo and Juliet that no one ever attends. In the spirit of keeping your students’ hopes up, you decide to take it upon yourself to draft out a plan to drive more people to come to the play. The key is the man you’re in love with.

WARNINGS: Vague description of a nightmare, death and an annoying teenager.

A/N: This is really going slowly like a true slow burn. I hope yall like this one. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

In the light of your unemployment as a teacher, Gotham High miraculously offered your old job back after Mrs Wilson, one of the senior English Literature teachers, died of a heart attack unannounced. In all seriousness, apologies were made, admitting they had a mistake with firing you because well, you were clearly a passionate teacher. To your surprise, you were told your students even missed you. Hence, you accepted a job from GHS once again because you would do anything to avoid the smell of burgers and the sounds of hungry crying children. After the whole burglary incident, the Big Belly Burger at midtown was forever doomed as customers gradually decreased over time. It was Gotham after all, people should be used to these kinds of things by now. Including witnessing Batman saving you, the whole experience felt like a fever dream. As excited you were and weirdly unbothered by the whole near-death experience, you realized that if you were to talk about it, no one would genuinely believe you anyway. He was a myth to most citizens of Gotham, but you’re an exception because you’re well acquainted with the knowledge that Bruce definitely knows Batman.

And oh boy, do they talk.

It’s your secret to keep and so is the Batarang you stole. You’re also dying to tell Bruce.

So, you find yourself back in the hallways, crowded with sweaty teenagers, but you would choose this over anything else in a heartbeat. Apart from returning to teaching uninterested students about the works of Shakespeare and Harper Lee and forcing reading lists onto them, you are also replacing Mrs Wilson as the GHS Drama Club’s advisor. Stage performance may be personally foreign to you but plays were practically your forte. That was how you ended up spending your Tuesday afternoons, preparing the members for the club’s annual play. This time, they decided to perform the classic: Romeo and Juliet.

As an English teacher, you were frankly sick of the play, forbidden love was a tad overrated to you. Yet the kids were genuinely trying their best. Shaniqua and Oscar were currently rehearsing their lines as the two infamous star-crossed lovers; You watched them with pride. The two were quiet in your classes but they truly shone on the stage of the school theatre.

“And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss—teach, what does this whole scene even mean?” Shaniqua exclaims and you chuckle, “This scene is simply a metaphor where Romeo is a pilgrim wanting to erase his sins and Juliet is a saint. So, he is basically trying to convince her to kiss him so that he can truly be free of sin,” your explanation echoes through the room, and you notice Oscar turning red when you mention the word ‘kiss’. It was clear as day that the poor boy really liked the girl he’s currently hand in hand with but you don’t want him to feel nervous and uncomfortable about the thought of kissing her. “Now Oscar, you can kiss her on the cheek and that’s fine. Shaniqua, say it with more emotion, okay? Everyone got it?” The response you received was a sputter of hums and nods. Before you could continue, Josh, who plays Lord Capulet and is sitting lazily on the handmade throne, speaks up much to your dismay, “Why is it so important that we put so much effort into this. It’s not like anyone is going to come.” The kids around him began agreeing with his statement, and it was honestly completely expected of him but it was the truth. No one attends the drama club’s annual play. As you're trying to calm everyone down, your phone buzzes on the table in front of you. It’s a text from Bruce, asking if you could come over tonight, phrasing it like he’s a schoolboy sneaking from his parents to meet with a girl late at night. Then, like an epiphany you have an idea although there’s an eighty percent chance it wouldn’t go through. Nevertheless, you turn to the rest of the students with a hint of a smile on your lips. “I might have just the idea to solve that.”

-

A brief span seemed like an eternity when sleep doesn’t come easy to you. Tonight was a different case; thoughts were completely clear and concise. In much need of sleep, you steal the chance to savour in this clarity and serenity for as long as you could. To feel his warmth, arm gently resting on your abdomen and the occasional whiff of his deodorant from his ebony shirt you’re dressed in. If this was what bliss feels like, you never want it to go away. Your eyes grow heavy, flickering into darkness due to exhaustion from a long day of rehearsals. At once, you’re struck with the reminder of the idea you had this afternoon. It is more of a favour, involving none other than Bruce. There’s a tinge of guilt whenever favours are involved because you never liked asking for help. You were furiously independent and responsible, relying on others was out of the question. Yet, Bruce has always seemed to find a way to weave himself in your mistakes and problems, constantly there to help out. You have to remind yourself this isn’t about you. It’s for the kids. Special guest, Bruce Wayne, playboy and billionaire. Sounds awesome.

As your consciousness begins ebbing away, you feel Bruce shift from beside you, grasp tightening upon your waist. Before your dazed mind could even fully process that he was in the midst of a nightmare, his eyes are wide open, heart-pounding and it seizes him up instantly. With deep breaths, he closed his eyes once more, unable to shake the feeling of dread that rattles in him. Then, a sudden cold touch to his arm—he jumps and snaps his head to look over his shoulder.

It’s you, still laid in bed with a prominent frown upon your brows. Your hand squeezes his forearm and all he feels is instant relief. His heart still pounds, not in fear but with affection. “Are you okay?” you drawled as you watch his lingering hand, fingers weaved between the strands of hair. The silver ones glint under the low light, contrasting the deep brown ones. You notice how his hair had grown along with his five o’clock shadow becomes more evident by the days. His face away from you, finally nodding in response to your question. “Yeah, just... a bad dream. His voice is subdued as he shifts under the sheets, head leaning against the headboard. Despite your weakened state, you bring yourself to sit up, twisting your body to face him properly. "You wanna talk about it?” you say, patting his shoulder lightly in a comforting manner. You watch him rub his eyes, exhale tightly and shake his head. “No. Anything but that.”

His response comes out almost harsh but Bruce doesn’t mean for it to be perceived in that way. His dream was the usual, the normal ones he’s used to by now but in times of stress overwork, they have started to become more intense and violent. This time it involved you, for the first time, and he watched you vividly get shot in the forehead—trails of his memory as Batman when he encountered you at the burger restaurant with the muzzle of a gun inches away from you. It haunts him to think that if the circumstances were different if you hadn’t texted him those dreaded four words, you might be dead.

He certainly is not telling you about the dream. Never in a million years.

Bruce turns to you and you’re still staring at him, worry carved deep in your furrowed brows. Change of topic was merely necessary at this point. “So, how has school been? The kids still mean to you?” Classic Bruce, always sweeping his problems under the antique Persian rug. You don’t blame him because you wouldn’t know better.

It was your turn to sigh at the mention of school but since tonight’s pillow talk is heading towards your job as an English teacher at GHS, you might as well use the opportunity to pitch in your plan. “Still mean, but the drama club kids are really great,” You thumb the edge of the blanket, unable to hide your growing smile. “Speaking of which, the annual play is next Friday and they have been rehearsing all week but,” you paused as you watched his right brow gradually lift. “No one comes for it. Like, no one and I hate to see all their efforts just thrown out the window like that—”

“So, you want me to go for it.”

You blinked, wondering if your explanations were too obvious of its underlying intent or Bruce could just read you like an open book. You won’t be surprised if it’s the latter.

“If it’s no biggie. You don’t have to because I know you’re very busy but I don’t want the special guest to end up being the Big Belly Burger mascot.” Your smile widens and Bruce chuckles. Hell, it’s probably past midnight and you’re still able to find ways to be terribly funny. Literally terrible. After a beat of silence, he clears his throat. “I’ll clear my schedule.” It didn’t need much anticipation or thought because despite everything going on in his life, he knows he’ll do just about anything for you. You’re practically beaming at him and he finally sees it’s all worth it in the end. “Thank you, Bruce.” Your voice is sweet, and it makes his heart swell ever so slightly.

He sometimes wishes the two of you weren’t trapped in this loophole of unsaid confessions and hidden strong emotions for the other.

It almost comes naturally when he leans to you and presses a swift kiss to your forehead. Instead, it’s contradicting everything the two of you consider normal. He isn’t thinking straight and now your smile has disappeared, mouth agape and eyes very wide. Your brain stops.

Uh, what the hell just happened?

It hits him like a punch to the gut and the growing awkward silence is deafening. Yet, he doesn’t apologise because if he does, it doesn’t mean anything when in reality, it means so much more than just an accidental gesture. You don’t mention anything because you don’t objectify his actions. Kissing Bruce was fine when there are no strings attached but a peck to the forehead is way too affectionate for the man.

Before the both of you begin to overthink the events of a few moments ago, Bruce’s rational conscience kicks in and he clears his throat. “Get some sleep. You had a long day today.” He pats you on the shoulder awkwardly and you hum, shifting your head to lay back on the pillow. “Yesterday.” you correct him as it’s well past midnight. He chuckles, now laying flat on his back as he stares at the ceiling. Silently, the two of you agree to forget whatever happened a minute ago and to just...sleep it off.

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