#“some are born great / some achieve greatness / and some have greatness thrust upon them”

[pfhwrittes]

have some transmasc reader with the 141 silliness that just popped into my head.

tags/tw: transmasc reader has a backstory, attempts at humour, discussions of the english school system, brief mentions of classism, "cunt" used as a term of endearment.

unedited and written straight into the drafts as per usual.

790ish words of platonic silliness.

you can't remember how the conversation started exactly, it seems that one minute they're all chatting about the football scores (dull, but you make all the right noises in the right places) and then the next they're talking about their experiences at school.

you share a fondly exasperated look with gaz when soap explains his long list of lunch time and after school detentions (how he got away with making that many beakers explode in a chemistry lab you'll never know), you wince when ghost curtly informs soap that he was "too thick" for school (patently untrue from the way you've seen him demolish a crossword), you elbow soap in the ribs when he starts getting carried away taking the piss out of price's a-level in english literature (even if you did grin at the thought of him slogging his way through twelfth night).

and then gaz turns to you.

"come on then, mate. what was school like for you?" he grins, still enjoying the buzz of hearing price recite the famous quote about a man's "greatness".

"it was alright. just school, y'know?" you shrug carelessly feeling relaxed and comfortable.

"aye, but what was it like? we ken yer the only bastard here who had private school education." soap chips in, purposefully making his voice posh and plummy on the last three words.

"shut up, you knob. it wasn't like that." you scoff and elbow soap again, "and i'm not the only bastard here with private school education! gaz went to, fucking what'sitcalled, st paul's!"

"fide et literis." price intones gravely.

there's a pause where everyone looks at price with varying levels of surprise until ghost snorts a laugh.

"pretty sure my school's motto was 'stay out of prison you shit'eads'."

you all laugh boisterously and you spot ghost's eyes crinkle at the corners as his own mouth pulls into a grin behind his mask. you sigh happily and make yourself more comfortable by butting up against soap's arm. you let your mind drift a little until gaz interrupts your thoughts.

"go on then, what school did you go to?"

"hmm?" you blink tiredly, "oh, uh, st helen's and st katharine's."

gaz whistles lowly, impressed.

"bit posh that, mate."

you cringe, suddenly embarrassed, and your ears burn up with mortification.

"i got a scholarship, alright?" you mutter, as if that justifies the inherent classism of your education. ghost kicks your ankle and you shoot him a weak smile even as your face feels like it's bursting into flame.

soap makes a confused sound and looks between his phone and your face.

"are ye sure you've got the name of yer school right?" he asks.

"yeah?" you look at him quizzically as his eyebrows draw together forming a crease. you shoot a look at price who holds his hands up in the universal "don't fucking ask me" gesture in response.

"yer positive?" soap questions again sounding baffled.

"...yeah?" you say slowly, feeling just as confused at soap's questions.

there's a pause while soap scrolls through his phone.

"but, it's a girl's school?"

you blink. you blink again. what the hell is he confused about? you look over at ghost who has gone stock still before his shoulders start jerking up and down with silent laughter. you turn to gaz who looks confused before his face clears and his mouth splits into a wide grin.

"how can ye have gone tae a girl's school if yer a boy - a man?"

price groans and hides his face into his hands at soap's question and mutters something about soap being "a proper fucking muppet" to himself. ghost wheezes out a surprisingly breathy laugh.

you blink for a third time before tilting your head back and howling with uncontrollable laughter. your ribs ache and tears collect in the corner of your eyes.

"soap -" you snort, still giggling madly when you go to speak, "did y- did you forget -" you stop to heave in a breath to calm yourself "did you forget i'm trans... again?" you finish, tears streaking their way down your hot face.

soap's face is nearly crimson over his stubble when you turn to face him again, clearly embarrassed as gaz hollers.

"he did! he fucking did! oh my god!"

"how the fuck can you f'get summat like that?" ghost manages to wheeze out before breaking out into laughter again.

"you silly cunt." you say warmly, deeply pleased by the accidental affirmation as you knock your shoulder into soap's affectionately.

soap offers you a lopsided grin in response even as gaz and ghost continue to laugh and price groans.

"i can't believe i know you pricks."

and for some reason that makes you break out into laughter all over again, but this time soap's braying laugh joins in.

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Townspeople Harem x Lucky Reader

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: I have no clue what I was on when I wrote this 💀. This is also inspired by a Reddit post I saw long time ago.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who are absolutely enamored by you and everything that you do. They treat you as if you are some kind of entity waiting to be put on a golden pedestal and paraded around town. You are essentially the town’s golden boy/girl/person, a mascot if you can even call it that. In their eyes everything that you do is inspiring and encouraged. It also doesn’t help that you were born with this amazing power that causes you to become extremely lucky. No matter the deed, every action was thrust into the spotlight as if it were a gracious gesture for the community's well-being. Take, for instance, if you ever fatally shot someone the townsfolk would erupt in applause, discovering the individual to be a notorious mass murderer and your action saved the town.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who can’t help but gush over every miniscule achievement that you got. You got a perfect attendance award? They wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Did you just get a participation trophy? Well they're cheering for you as if you just won the world cup. To say their actions are embarrassing is definitely an understatement. Everytime they cheer for you, you can’t help but die a little bit on the inside.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who absolutely cannot fathom the idea of you moving out of their town. They would much rather skin themselves alive and commit arson than to allow you to leave them. Everywhere you go, there will always be some form of eyes on you. There will always be some type of survance of you at any time of the day. Depending on the person, the townspeople's love for you can either be platonic or romantic. Basically half of the town wants to fuck your and the other half sees you as their beloved child or grandchild.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who may or may not be human. Like sure they might have the occasional human sacrifices but what town doesn’t!?!? This is totally normal behavior that people exhibit. What’s that? Did you just see a tentacle coming out from that woman over there? Nahhh. You must be imagining that! What a cute and overactive imagination you have there. In all seriousness, it would literally die for you. You're just a cutie patootie to them. Your small teeth are so cute compared to their razor sharp fangs. You know, you could really use that small mouth of yours and suck on their–

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople have a monthly ritual where they gather around to brag about all of the items that they stole from you. Never in your life will you see someone so happy to own a pair of used underwear that didn’t belong to them or some used pair of socks. If you looked up a textbook definition of “down bad” then a picture of the Yandere! Townspeople would be the first images to pop up. In your presence these people act as if they had never touched grass or seen the sun before. They all seem to have some type of mutual agreement that in your presence, they would try to act somewhat normal in order to not scare/scar you too much.

—

From a young age, your luck was apparent. In school, while others struggled with exams, you breezed through them effortlessly, always managing to stumble upon the exact answers needed to excel. Teachers marveled at your natural knack for stumbling upon solutions, even in the most challenging of situations. As you grew older, the extraordinary luck only seemed to amplify. Job interviews turned into job offers within minutes, as if the universe conspired to ensure your success in every endeavor. Colleagues joked that working with you was like having a lucky charm around, as projects that seemed doomed to fail miraculously turned into resounding triumphs whenever you were involved. It might seem great and all BUT DAMN WAS THIS LIFE SO FUCKING BORING!!!! Which is why you decided to spice up your day a little and rob a bank.

“Oh hello [Reader]! Is this going to be the usual procedure?” The bank teller asks you with a smile on their face as you hold a gun to their face. “You know… the weather is perfectly nice today. It would be a perfect day for a date don’t you think–”

Suddenly a thunderous crash was heard, the police burst through the bank doors, their badges glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Guns drawn and voices booming commands, they swept into the lobby, faces masked with determination. Until the police chief sees you and lets out a tired sigh, “Guns down everyone, it’s just [Reader].” A faint sound of disappointed groans can be heard from the crowd of bank patrons from the back. “Why are the police here so soon, I didn’t get enough time to admire their pretty face.” another voice could be heard, “For real, their never this fast in an actual emergency. I mean they only just shot and killed one person, it's really nothing to worry about like who cares–”

—

“You are free to go [Reader], again.” the police officer states as she releases you from your handcuffs. “Turns out the man that you shot ended up being a drug dealer. You really have a special talent for catching criminals don’t you. She states as she gazes at you with loving eyes. “You know I’m free after this shift, you think we can–”

Before she can finish her sentence you walk away with a dejected look on your face. You couldn’t believe how boring a day this turned out to be. Seriously, you wished that something exciting would happen in this town for once you think to yourself. Failing to notice a scene behind you. One that consisted of a bunch of monsters eating the souls of the innocent while on their knees for a statue that seemed to look like you. They all seem to be gripping onto something though– HEY, WAIT A MINUTE ARE THEY HOLDING YOUR UNDERWEAR!?!!?

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {4}

Summary: The plan is set and it's time to get things into motion. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm, abusive parents WC: 2k

One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Two Weeks Later

You were barely through the ornate arch that separated the foyer entrance from the dining room when a fist of razor sharp fingernails cut into your upper arm. 

“Hi,” you greeted your mother as she dragged you into the room lit by a gilded chandelier. You were late to the regular Friday night dinner but time had slipped away from you at Arthur’s apartment. Charles had picked you up after flying in from Maranello and taken you to Monaco to finalise the plan after officially signing a contract his lawyers had drafted. The risk of exposure was too great to be an employee through his Ferrari team so everything had gone through his personal solicitor.

“Don’t ‘hi’ me you ungrateful little-sweetheart, you didn’t tell me you would be bringing a guest.” Your mother’s eyes widened as Charles stepped in behind you, his palm warming the small of your back. “I’ll have one of the maids set a place for you, Charles.”

You had coached Charles through the cutlery he could be expected to use, even in an informal setting such as a family dinner. The variations of forks would no doubt be a test that your mother would use to judge the latest guest. In return, he had posted cleverly taken photos throughout the week to ‘soft launch’ the relationship. 

“Madame Florence told me that you missed your piano session this afternoon,” your mother said sweetly, but her nails dug deeper into your skin. 

“That was today? It must have slipped my mind, you know what a ditz I can be.” Your aloof tone only set to anger her more but you knew she wouldn’t lash out while Charles was around. She always had to maintain the perfect image, like how her bruising grip was hidden by the sleeve of your shirt. 

“You play piano?” Charles asked as your mother turned on her stiletto heel and took her place beside your father at the head of the table. 

“Not by choice,” you muttered.

“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them,” you mother quoted Shakespear like the actress she had failed to become. “She might not be the first, but my daughter could achieve greatness if she applied herself and actually attended the lessons.”

“That must be the nicest thing you have ever said,” you commented as you took a seat opposite them. Charles pushed your chair in before taking his beside you where Alicia had placed a setting for him, an appetiser already waiting. “Charles is staying over so perhaps I can have some greatness thrust upon me tonight.”

Your mother choked on her negroni and the oyster fork slipped from your father’s hand, clattering to the fine china plate. Even Charles looked a little shocked but he quickly recovered.

“If that is alright with you of course, not the uh thrusting, but staying the night,” he said after clearing his throat. 

“This isn’t a hotel,” your father stated. “Or a brothel.”

“Not sure about that since everything around here is completely fucked,” you whispered to Charles and caught the hint of a smile before turning to the head of the table. “Father, Charles is my boyfriend - get used to having him around.”

Charles’ fingers laced with yours and he kissed your knuckles. “At least until you move in with me.”

“Let’s just take a step back,” your father chuckled. “Boyfriend?”

You nodded and watched the amusement fade. 

“You are dating the boy you spent weeks, months, crying over?” your mother asked with a laugh. 

“Really?” Charles asked behind the napkin that he patted along his clammy upper lip. 

“I was an emotional teenager, but I grew out of it - don’t take it personally,” you lied. 

The dishes were swiftly taken away and replaced with the main course and Charles frowned when he saw the child size portion on your plate. “We can share,” he offered, thinking that his sudden arrival for dinner meant the kitchen was short of food. 

“She’s on a diet,” your mother tutted. “It’s Social Season and we can’t have all those lovely gowns ill fitting.”

You stabbed the salad fork into a sweet cherry tomato and watched the seeds and juice splatter over the lettuce, morbidly imagining it was a certain someone across the table. You didn’t bother to even finish the plate of rabbit food before you excused yourself. 

“You can stay,” you said to Charles when he rose to follow. “They’ll let you have dessert.”

“I’d rather your company,” he replied before turning to your parents. “Enjoy your evening.”

You felt his presence following closely up the stairs and you knew he was biting his tongue from the waves of discontent that seemed to physically roll off him. The second floor of the mansion was quiet as you walked the hallway and turned a corner to see Alicia step out of the staff stairwell. 

“Rough night,” she said with a sad smile and held out the tray of food Chef Alain had prepared. This time there were two portions of dessert. Her eyes darted to Charles and she started to speak before closing her lips. Finally, she worked up the courage and asked, “Are you alright? I can call Franco.”

You smiled genuinely at her concern and placed a hand on her shoulder to reassure her that Charles was a welcome guest. “I’m fine, thank you, no need for the big guy. But, could you please let him know we’ll be heading out the south entrance tonight?”

Alicia nodded and relaxed slightly. Unable to fight the habit, she bobbed sedately and ducked back into the shadows of the stairwell. Your parents may have acted like the house staff didn’t exist but they were always around, and they always saw what the outside world didn’t. You would have lost your sanity long ago if it weren’t for their help, even if it meant risking their jobs. 

Charles took the tray from your hand and you opened the plain white door that looked just like the others down the hall. He remained silent as he cast his eyes around the room that dripped lux from every surface. The plush carpet absorbed his footsteps as he stepped into the sitting room and the sheer curtains wavered in the breeze coming in from the sea beyond the wide balcony. In one adjoining room a large canopy bed spread across a wall decorated with blue and silver hand painted damask designs while an equally large desk sat in another connected by open glass doors.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he placed the tray on the coffee table and continued his quiet judgement walking around the rooms. 

“Still not up to your standards?” you asked as you followed him to the bed that he sat comfortably on, toeing his shoes off before kicking them up and reclining back among the pillows.

Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “I think I like the dump better, at least it has some personality. You don’t even have any photos on the wall.”

You thought about correcting him again for calling your sanctuary a dump, but gave up on the idea. Instead, you reached under your bed for the duffle bag you kept there and disappeared inside your wardrobe to pack. “You’re in luck, that’s exactly where we are crashing tonight.”

You dumped the bag on the floor in your spacious closet and dropped to your knees before rummaging around the bottom shelves. You pushed aside a box of Prada pumps you hadn’t yet worn and found what you were looking for as a shadow dimmed your light.

“Why aren’t we staying here?”

You looked up to find Charles towering over you and sat back on your heels, pulling the gym gear onto your lap. “It’s Friday, I have a fight.”

You stuffed a sports bra and shorts into the duffle bag before adding a pair of sneakers, knuckle tape and Vaseline in too. Lastly, you grabbed the hoodie Charles had given you and tossed it on top. 

“You don’t have to fight anymore,” Charles said, blocking your exit from the small room. 

“I’ve never been forced, the whole point is that it is my choice. Now move aside.”

He ignored your request and stayed planted in the doorway as you stepped closer. “Your mother said you cried over me. Why?”

Your back stiffened and you swallowed at the memory. “You’ve seen my family, I had plenty to cry about. Maybe I blamed you one day when she caught me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Believe what you want, I don’t care.” You tried to duck under his arm and escape but he was quicker and dropped it, catching you around the waist and tugging you against his body. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek and just how strong his body was as his arms tightened their hold. 

“I think you’re lying and I want to know why.”

“What good would the truth do?” You craned your neck to look him in the eyes and wondered when he had grown so tall. “Do you enjoy feeling guilty?”

Charles’ eyes bored into yours and you noticed the little crinkles around them as his frustration grew. “Just tell me, please.”

Your resolve broke and you shoved against Charles until you had the space to breathe. “I never got to say goodbye to him.”

His brows pinched together in confusion. “Who, Jules?”

“God, I hated you,” you laughed humorlessly as you sat on the edge of your bed and looked at your hands fidgeting on your lap. “Things were great before you came around, not here, obviously, but with the Bianchi’s. We would go karting on the weekends, Mélanie would let me help her bake. I didn’t know what a home felt like before then.”

The bed dipped as Charles sat beside you and took your hand. It was one thing to act as if there was a relationship but your heart stammered a little when he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

“I know now that my father already had plans for Jules before you met him, but that was when I noticed things started to change. Whenever I went to their house he would disappear, then there were no more karting days. Whenever I asked, he was busy karting with you. I thought you stole him from me.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“But it made you cry.”

Your shoulders jumped with a clipped laugh and you shook your head. “You know, I never went back to the hospital after that day.”

“What day?” Realisation dawned on his face and his hand slipped out of yours as he covered his mouth. 

“I never got to finish the story. I never got to say goodbye,” you whispered as your voice broke and fresh tears burned your eyes. “And that is why I need to fight. There is so much anger inside me that I don’t know what else to do. It’s just sitting here,” you beat your fist against your hallow chest, “burning a fucking hole through me.”

A sob cracked the room as you admitted aloud for the first time something even Arthur didn’t know. You let Charles see just how close to the edge you really were and how little it would take for you to break. Strong arms enveloped you and pulled you onto his lap as you fell apart. You tried desperately to shut yourself off from the emotions but you had let too many through that it was impossible. 

“I hate you,” you rasped as you hit his chest. The punches were weak without the space to swing your body behind it, but somehow it served to hurt him more. He knew you were stronger and seeing your feeble attempts crumble cleaved his chest apart more than your words. “I hate you, Charles. I fucking hate you.”

“I know,” he whispered as he held you closer and took each hit he more than deserved. “I hate me too.”

Part Five.

[inthefallofasparrow]

William Shakespeare: “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.” (Twelfth Night, Act II Scene 5)

Translation: "We got 'Showers', 'Growers' and 'Blowers'."

[mbilmey]

"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."

I...I thought Shakespeare was quoting and making fun of someone else. I didn't realize he made it up.

This quote. That has been quoted. And put on posters. Used in headlines. Analyzed for it's wisdom.

It's from 12th Night. The most hilarious play. It comes from a prank letter written to play into a stuffy guy's ego. It's a joke.

Shakespeare would be so pleased to see how it's been used. Like, this as good irony as people quoting Invictus in church or putting Caroline Bingley's ridiculous commentary on libarary tote bags.

[tuascreencaps]

Don't go chasing waterfalls. Stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Actually the line is "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown".

Remember your Twelfth Night "Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."

Yeah, but Shakespeare had no idea what it was like to be me.

---

2x02 - The Frankel Footage

Rewatching Season Two

[afirewiel]

I just realized that the Shakespeare quote, "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them" basically sums up Superman, Batman, and Spiderman. Superman was born a powerful superhero (born great), Batman choose to become a powerful superhero (achieved greatness) and Spiderman became a powerful superhero by being bitten by a radioactive spider (had greatness thrust upon him).

[fl0tketz]

it’s like the late great william shakespeare always said:

some groups are born to greatness. some groups have greatness thrust upon them. and some groups achieve greatness because one of them committed mail fraud on a whim about three days into them all meeting one another and it just kinda snowballed from there.

[saphstories]

"Be not afraid of greatness,

Some are born great...

Some achieve greatness...

And some have greatness thrust upon them."

[heishook]

HOOK • AEW Dynamite 📸

Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.

[amiserableseriesofevents]

Courage, to make's love known

Read on AO3

Thank you so much @alienoresimagines for your extremely inspiring ask ♥️

“Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them’’

- W. Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

John wakes slowly, rubbing his face on the pillow and blinking a few times, blearily taking in his surroundings before remembering where he is; in the New York apartment where he's going to spend the next six weeks of shows. An apartment paid for him by the company, if he may brag — and oh how much he likes being spoiled for doing exactly what he loves.

A pleasant ache echoes through his body, one of physical exertion in order to perfect his craft, and he stretches, shifting on the mattress until his bones and muscles start singing their soreness. Then he rolls on the side and partakes in his favorite morning activity: staring at his fiancé as he sleeps soundly right beside him.

His movements have not stirred Gale, who's still sleeping with half his face buried in the pillow, blonde hair sticking up in every direction like a messy halo and eyelashes so long and thick they brush against the soft skin of his cheekbones. He has one arm tucked under the pillow and the other one outstretched towards John, fingertips grazing his forearm. John cradles Gale's hand in his and places a soft kiss at the center of its palm, looking at him with a reverence that would surely make him blush if he was awake. He's not, though, and John doesn't find it in his heart to rouse him; they got back pretty late last night after the celebratory Opening Night dinner, and the past few days have been very stressful for both of them, John rehearsing for hours every day and Gale keeping him company in the theatre and going through his lines at the apartment — just like old times.

He's only managed to get a week off from school and today is his fifth day here; two more and he'll have to go back and John will be left alone in the apartment for six more weeks surviving only on video calls and good morning texts — and math puns, obviously.

John's tempted to roll him over in this obnoxiously large bed and wake him up in the best way possible, with hot kisses and a hand between his legs to get to the only thing better than Opening Night celebratory sex — that is The Morning After celebratory sex — but Gale really looks too soft and content to be disturbed. So, John resorts to his second favorite Morning After activity: searching the World Wide Web for opinions and reviews.

He shuffles out of bed, puts on a t-shirt and some pants and walks groggily to the kitchen. Despite living here for a little more than a month he's still not very familiar with the layout and organization of the apartment so it takes him a while to find the coffee maker and to open the right cabinet where Gale put the ground beans when he got there, but then he finally settles on a tall barstool with a steamy cup in hand — with almond milk because Gale got him hooked — and starts browsing.

He finds reviews from some of the major theatre magazines and he's relieved to read that the show was largely appreciated in all his aspects, from the direction to the set design and the costumes. Someone has even pointed out his performance as the highlight of the show, which has him giggle like a serious, professional actor shouldn't do; he can't help it, sometimes when someone tells him that he's good at what he does he still has to pinch himself to be sure that this isn't some years long dream.

When he's satisfied with the professional reviews he moves to the social medias to hear the feedback from the fans; TikToks, tweets, everyone seems to have enjoyed the show. There are even a few pictures he's taken with fans at the stage door, he finds them on Instagram and grins at the captions from his fan pages — he has fan pages, can you believe that?!

It's on Instagram that he finds the most interesting thing, an article that makes him spit out his coffee from its title only.

If you thought John Egan was hot, wait until you see his boyfriend!

Cold sweat gathers at the nape of his neck. The article comes from one of those damned gossip pages filled with paparazzi pics and fake news and that's probably what happened, he thinks trying to reassure himself, they must have taken some pics of him and Curt hugging outside the theatre. It can't be Gale because they're always very careful with their PDA, especially around shows when the paps are more likely out to get him. Yes, that must be it; they're gonna have a laugh about it and all will be fine, he thinks as he opens the link.

He's immediately greeted by a picture of him and Gale kissing outside a restaurant.

Fuck.

They haven't been careful enough, they didn't think the paps would follow them to the small, basically unknown restaurant they'd chosen for the celebration dinner and so they kissed on the sidewalk. Still, the picture is pretty blurry, Gale being barely more than a blond smudge of pixels, he could be anyone.

The relief lasts less than three seconds before he notices that it's the first of a series: there's another blurry kiss, then one or two of himself as he waves to someone inside the restaurant, and finally one of just Gale, clear enough to make out most of his features — his proud smile, the glint in his eyes, the mop of blond hair, the cut of his cheekbones.

Again, fuck.

John belatedly remembers the title of the article, about how hot his boyfriend is. Suddenly, all the worries about the article itself vanish replaced by a simmering anger: how dare people think they can judge Gale? He swears to god, if someone's written on the damn internet that Gale, his Gale, is ugly they're gonna have to deal with John's wrath.

He opens the comments, ready to be properly pissed. What he finds is... surprising.

Who's that??? Where was Egan keeping him???

Despite himself, John snorts. He thinks of Gale teaching algebra to high schoolers while John rehearses on a stage, of him cooking terrible dinners for John to comfort him when he gets home. Home, that's where he's keeping him.

How did Egan manage to bag a guy like that?? 🥵

He laughs less now, frowning, honestly offended by this gratuitous rudeness — Gale would find it amusing though, so he refrains to comment back.

Do they need a third? 😜

John huffs — as if. They've had enough troubles managing a relationship between just the two of them, they're definitely not the sharing type.

Does he like girls too? 🙄

No he definitely doesn't, thank you very much.

OMG HE'S SO HOT

John grins mischievously at this one; yes, his boyfriend is hot, John knows it. He's getting even hotter as he grows older — there's some grey in his blond hair, so pale it's barely noticeable for anyone but John, who doesn't miss a chance to remind him of it bragging about his luscious, still completely brown locks. He's oddly proud that some random Instagram user finds him hot too, he could print out the comment and put it on their fridge for the moments when Gale feels down.

Aw what a nice couple 🥹🥹

Butterflies rouse in John's stomach and he finds himself blushing slightly at this comment, smiling like when someone compliments his acting. They're the two most important things in his life after all, acting and Gale; he's glad someone can see how much in love they are just from some blurry pictures.

Egan needs to have him cast in something!! I need to see that pretty face more often

To this one, John laughs out loud. Yeah, he wants to comment, been there, done that. Unless that guy is interested in minor, local performances, he's not going to see Gale's face on stage any time soon.

He hears a sudden noise from the bedroom, sign that Gale's woken up; the worry comes back, a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. He'll have to show Gale the pictures, that's for sure, but how is he going to react? He's probably gonna be pissed, as he should.

John is going to pressure to have the pictures removed if Gale asks, of course, but by now they've already been seen by hundreds if not thousands of people; this is surely going to freak him out, hugely. He's so private, even the news of their engagement has been kept a secret to everyone who's not close family — John still wears the ring every day just not on his finger, but on a chain around his neck. What if this sudden exposure to the public makes him reconsider it? He's always said he's ok with John being a more public figure than him, but maybe...

No, John thinks shaking his head. He won't go there. They're not who they were at the beginning of their relationship anymore, they've grown together past the part where a single doubt could destroy everything. They're going to talk about it, plently, and decide together what to do.

He pours another cup of coffee and waits for Gale to pad barefoot to the kitchen, yawning ans with his hair all askew — he wonders what his fans would think of him now, as natural as he comes. For John, he's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Morning darlin'," Gale drawls. "How are the reviews?"

John smirks, passing him the coffee. "They're good, but the thing that's making the most numbers online this morning is you, love!"

Gale smiles, confused. "Are you practicing your math puns?"

"Come take a look," John simply answers, sliding his phone towards him. Gale picks it up, more confused, and his eyes widen as he takes in the pictures. "Those fuckers!" He says, outraged. "They followed us to the restaurant?"

"Maybe, or maybe one of them was simply passing by and took his chance. Read the comments, come on."

As he reads, Gale blushes in a way John finds utterly adorable. "They think I'm hot?" He asks.

John nods, solemnly. "That you are babe, that you are. Look, I'm gonna cal Lil later, tell her to work her magic to have those removed. She's my agent, that's what I hired her for and I know she's good with this kind of thing."

"Why do you want to remove them?"

It's John's turn to be confused. "Well it's a violation of our privacy, and I though you'd be pretty pissed about them," he says tentatively.

Gale nods, sipping his coffee. "It is a violation and I'm pissed at those paps, they should get a life and not bother ours. But the pictures are out, and by now they must have been seen by anyone. I don't think it would matter to have them removed. Besides, I kinda like the way people talk about us in the comments," he admits, still slightly blushing. "They're not judging, they like us."

"They like you," John points out.

"Yeah, but they also like us as a couple. See? Most comments are about us!"

"And that doesn't bother you?" John asks, perplexed.

"Well, it had to come up sooner or later, didn't it? I would have preferred to have more of a say in how and when, but since it happened..."

"So let me get this straight, you want us to be out in public, on the internet, at the mercy of strangers? Are you sure?"

"Why are you putting it so menacing?"

"Because people will judge — me, you, us. Not everyone will be utterly positive and supportive. I just want you to think carefully about that," John says. He'd have absolutely no problem posting a pic of him and Gale on his official profile right now, but he wants the other man to be sure.

Gale cocks an eyebrow at him. "Not everyone will be utterly positive and supportive, really? Is that not the story of our lives?"

John smirks. "You're right, as usual. So, what do you propose we do? Can I post a picture of us like, right now?"

Gale laughs. "Now, don't rush! Let's talk with Lil first, I'm sure she knows how to deal with a... how are the youngsters calling it nowadays? A hard launch?"

"Hanging out with teenagers is ruining you, Buck! How do you even know such a term?!" John laughs, then pulls Gale closer to hug his waist and nuzzles his face against his fiancé's stomach. "You know, you're incredible: a lifetime together, and you still manage to surprise me," he says, softly.

Gale strokes his hair, humming content. "And I'll keep doing it for the rest of our lives. Now, if you're finished with the reviews and don't have to go out so soon, why don't you come back in our bedroom with me? We haven't celebrated enough this morning, as far as I'm concerned..."

—

A few days later, a picture is posted on John Egan's official Instagram profile. It's a black and white picture of him and another man, one that the fans recognize as the mysterious boyfriend Egan was kissing outside a restaurant in the paparazzi pics that came out a few days ago. The private profile of the other man, one Gale Cleven from Wyoming, theatre aficionado and apparently math teacher, is clearly tagged in the picture.

But the thing that truly sends the fans rioting is the simple, teasing caption:

If you thought John Egan was hot, you should see his fiancé!

[thelastrenaissance]

William Shakespeare (23 April 1564) was an English playwright, poet, and actor.

“Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.”

William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

[timetravellingtelepath]

Damian becomes a spitting cat and Anya imitates his noises of outrage as a mountain goat? Damian does not need a mask to transform into an animal from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He called Anya's mask silly but it's not her fault she needs it to act the part and he doesn't! I'm joking...

Damian is a Drama kid.

He's expressive but can just as easily repress them, he is a jester without meaning to be... Someone give him sxf version of Shakespeare and a will to act!

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Twelfth Night

[stephensmithuk]

The Valley of Fear: Lodge 341, Vermissa

CW Murder, homophobia and racial hatred.

Spending more than you're legally earning is a common way that criminals get caught - especially those in the espionage business.

Private police forces are a thing in a number of countries; being more than just security guards, these are people with the full powers of a police officer. They at this time were often involved in strike-breaking.

Pennslyvania had the Coal and Iron Police at this time, raised by the mining industry and operating until 1931, when its licence was not renewed. CW the link has pictures of a dead woman with serious head injuries:

Railroads formed their own police forces to protect their rather extensive property - including their tracks. These are still a thing; the remaining major freight railroads of the United States, along with Amtrak (which took over the 20 passenger ones in 1971 and is run on a for-profit basis). Some city rail systems have their own police too.

In 1948, with nationalisation, the various private railway company forces in Great Britain were combined into the British Transport Police, which remains the force in the current setup, where some private companies will remain. They are most famous or infamous for the "See It, Say It, Sorted" slogan encouraging passengers to report suspicious activity; this has achieved meme status.

the relations between policemen and criminals are peculiar in some parts of the States

It would later become rather common in the 1960s and 1970s for British detectives, most notably from the Metropolitan Police's anti-robbery Flying Squad (so called either because they had fast cars in the 1920s or did not have to keep to divisional boundaries) to engage in drinking with the local criminal fraternity. It was a good way of gaining intelligence, but the potential for corruption was obvious and a major scandal erupted. See the classic British crime show The Sweeney named after the "Sweeney Todd" rhyming slang for the unit.

"Shoving the queer" here means passing the fake money.

one who did not wish to have greatness thrust upon him

This is a reference to “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them” from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.

A stole:

While the right to counsel for criminal charges was established in the Sixth Amendment to the US Constitution, the idea of a public defender was not mooted until 1893 by this woman:

It would take another seven decades to become widespread; those unable to afford good counsel could get something quite awful instead.

This initiation ceremony, possibly inspired by the Masonic one depicted in War and Peace, would be called hazing today.

Buckshot is a type of shotgun cartridge filled with pellets, designed for use at close range against living targets with thinner skin:

UK law restricts you to 000 gauge shot at the biggest.

A breaker is a device that breaks and sorts coal into bits of different sizes. At this time, they were often operated by children:

"Effete" is another word for "effeminate".

Judge Lynch in this context means a lynch mob; the name probably derives from an American judge who ran a kangaroo court operation against British supporters during the American War of Independence:

Lynching was something largely (but not universally) done against African Americans for perceived crimes against white people, often young women. Many of these deaths are well-documented with graphic photos as at least someone present brought a camera. The last confirmed successful lynching to take place was in 1998.

However, there is clear evidence of a desire to lynch Vice-President Mike Pence as part of the January 6 riots in 2021.

Compositors were people who arranged moveable type for printing books, newspapers etc. This was a fiddly process, but you could do this in your own home with the right equipment (something that was long used by underground political movements for producing propaganda) and there were even sets available as for children:

[watfordgrimoire]

Summer of Shakespeare

To be or not to be -- acts as a coin flip; caster's object with either glow bright white or become shrouded in shadows

Two may keep counsel, putting one away -- prevents whom it is cast on from being able to speak of a secret (forbidden spell)

Let slip the dogs of war -- draws in nearby canines

What light through yonder window breaks -- creates sunlight through the window it is cast on

If you prick us, do we not bleed -- creates a pinprick wound

To sleep, perchance to Dream -- sleeping spell (has a chance to cause the sleeper to have vivid, lucid dreams)

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown -- creates a heavy, golden crown

Get thee to a nunnery -- creates a route to the nearest convent

Take arms against a sea of troubles -- pulls in nearby weapons (only works if near a body of salt water)

In nature there's no blemish but the mind -- removes acne

If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well / It were done quickly -- speeds up electronic appliances (causes the appliances to shut down if cast incorrectly)

A man can die but once -- used by superstitious mages to ward off vampire attacks

The good is oft interred with their bones -- buries objects it is cast on (can also be used as a finding spell when cast with the correct intentions)

It's Greek to me -- translates text to Greek

My kingdom for a horse -- summons nearby equine

Neither a borrow nor a lender be -- if someone owes you money, takes any cash/coins they have on them when cast

Nothing will come of nothing -- cleaning spell

Brevity is the soul of wit -- silencing spell (only allows for a few words while the spell is active)

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day -- heats someone up to the average summer temperature of the area

You have witchcraft in your lips -- enhances the next spell cast

Friends, Romans, Countrymen -- amplifies the caster's voice

Lord, what fools these mortals be -- stunning spell

The course of true love never did run smooth -- rumoured at Watford to cause a couple to break up if cast on them

Now is the winter of our discontent -- snow creation spell (only works when the caster is unhappy)

All the world's a stage -- creates a temporary, basic stage to use for performances

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and other have greatness thrust upon them -- superstitious mages cast this on newborn children in order to increase their depth of magick

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind -- temporary blinding spell (only works if the person it is cast on is in love)

Conscience does make cowards of us all -- scares away nearby creatures

To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune -- an arrow creation spell

Frailty, thy name is woman -- weakening spell

It is not enough to speak, but to speak true -- forces whomever it is cast on to tell a truth

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me -- causes nearby dogs to bark

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy -- finding spell

The lady doth protest too much -- reveals if someone is lying

The whips and scorns of time -- attacking spell

I am a man more sinned against than sinning -- shielding spell

Good wine is a good familiar creature -- wine creation spell (difficult spell)

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep -- when cast on someone who is sleeping, has the chance to allow them to bring small objects out of their dreams (difficult spell)

O wretched state! o bosom black as death! -- dyes objects black

Muddy death -- creates a mud puddle

Lay aside life-harming heaviness / And entertain a cheerful disposition -- cheering up spell

And, most dear actors, eat no onions or garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath -- cures bad breath

If after every tempest come such calms, / May the winds blow till they have wakened death -- creates a wind storm

None can be called deformed but the unkind -- reveals if someone has betrayed you, causing them to be covered in boils

Deny thy father and refuse thy name -- name changing spell (can apply to first, middle, and/or last name depending on the emphasis of the words)

The evil that men do lives after them -- creates weapons out of human bones (forbidden spell)

To thine own self be true -- temporary self-confidence increasing spell

Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once -- used in battle to try and scare the opposition into retreat (difficult spell)

Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones -- cast on graves to prevent graverobbing

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and gets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more -- silencing spell (forbidden spell)

And through this distemperature we see / The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts / Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose -- creates a layer of frost

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing -- causes whomever it is cast on to babble uncontrollably

For there was never yet philosopher / That could endure the toothache patiently -- eases toothache pain

God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another -- temporary disguise spell

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind -- reveals if a suspect is guilty (not always reliable as it can be tampered with)

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains -- stabilizes piles of soil or rock

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd -- helps boats steer safely into harbor

The empty vessel makes the loudest sound -- drains glasses of liquids (also creates a loud sound)

Though she be but little, she is fierce -- shrinking spell

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break -- undoes silencing spells

[theblesseddamozel]

Saw Twelfth Night today and realized I had forgotten about the fact that that "some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them" line is literally just from...a scene where a drunk is playing a prank on a servant. Like it honest to god sounds like something out of one of the tragic, serious plays but instead it's just....a throwaway line in a weird convoluted gag. Because of course