#GAME - SHAKESPEARE (LITERATURE)

[hiemalsborderland]

“god, you’re so pretentious.” niragi retorts, shifting to elbow-butt the blonde to the side. the action is clearly playful, yet there’s a hint of genuineness in the shove- despite his sudden, rare sweetness, niragi still has half a mind to play a sort of deceitful game with him. honesty is typically NEVER fun for the raven; unless he gets a little entertainment out of it, of course..

seriously, what a stubborn, stubborn man.

“is that so?” chishiya’s back to his side now. well, not COMPLETELY to his side, but they’re pretty damn tight. niragi’s just a head turn away. there’s a faint smirk growing on his face, mischievous and condescending. “i think you like that.” niragi scoffs, turning sharp to face him with a hard thump of his feet ricocheting throughout the empty hallway. his knuckles fold around the chest of chishiya’s jacket- it’s not as much as he hopes for, but it’s a start. a tempting, curious promise. 

“you know, you shouldn’t wear your proclaimed OBNOXIOUSNESS like a badge of honor.”

chishiya’s ‘faint smirk’ has curled into an involuntary grin, just barely shuffling himself further into niragi’s grasp. a cold hand lifts up to slink around one of the raven’s wrists and niragi swears there’s a soft burn where his palm rests. he stares possessively down at him. 

“if it’s proclaimed by you? ill take it with pleasure.”

the words slide off his lips with that stupid, smug smile he prides himself on. niragi’s vaguely OFFENDED, though, he understands the feeling of the blonde’s awfully cold hands against his is a rarity he’s not willing to risk losing with the threat that hangs on the tip of his tongue. 

with an exasperated sigh, he swallows the cocky remark before he shifts his grip to chishiya’s hood, YANKING him down the corridor. 

there’s other ways for him to put him in his place.

[maleficent-cannoli]

You know what, after @cyrankaa’s post about Jeremy’s favorite movie being Mamma Mia! I have decided it’s time to speak my truth

Me the first time Jeremy showed up in TSC: haha he was for sure a theater kid in high school

Me when Jeremy mentioned he was an English major: oh he is so a Shakespeare enjoyer

Me when Jeremy mentioned being Boykisser™️: I would bet actual money this bitch fucking LOVES Twelfth Night

[msunitedstatesjames]

I'm playing through the Mass Effect games for the first time, and I never expected my love of classic literature to overlap with a science fiction, far future, RPG style video game:

Something about an Elcor referring to anyone as "a fellow of infinite jest" is just perfect. Also the "insincere endorsement" at the end. (Every advertisement at the Citadel in ME2 is hilarious to be fair.)

[jkl-fff]

Silly game time!

You can go back in time and witness one historical event. You don’t affect it, but you see it exactly how it happened. Presume you’re capable of recording it and bringing it back with you. What would you pick?

Ooo! Probably Shakespeare's lost play called "Love's Labours Won". It's widely believed that he wrote a sequel to the comedy "Love's Labours Lost", but that either no transcripts of it were ever made or (more likely) survived to today.

But a video recording of the play itself? Performed by Shakespeare's own troupe? Historians and literary scholars would *kill* to see that. So, yeah, that'd be cool.

Thanks!

[enlitment]

🎁👀

You get some wise words from one of the greatest literary geniuses of all time 🙏

[jorrated]

desperately trying to NOT fall into a christian/ demonology mythology study hyperfixation again i cant take it

[weezebyrger-the-wizard]

This started as a wizardblr account, but now it’s just a product of my hyperfixations.

[eva-eyre]

tagged by @burningvelvet 💙💙

“Rules: Make a poll with five of your all-time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favourite!”

this is honestly a mix of characters that I relate to and characters that I am in love with…

I tag @marlocandeea @gaykagome @mistressaccost @urfellowrabbitkid @unamazing-sheep21

[quillsandblades]

You love tragic stories. You prefer cold over warm. If you've read Hamlet you find him annoying

Omg truee! I do prefer cold over warm ❄️ even now I'm feeling sad that the weather's gonna change soon. I shiver a lot, my feet turn into icicles and I wear too many sweaters BUT I'll take it any day over the heat.

I enjoy tragic stories depending on my mood haha but I'd say I like writing angst more than reading it.

As for Hamlet... you guys are starting to scare me with those accurate guesses. So yeah, I have read Hamlet but it was back in middle school in our literature class. I was a joyful kid who hated Shakespeare because he wrote so many tragedies that I had to prepare for my exams. I liked Happy stories with sane characters ok, why did I have to sit through weeks of discussions about some guy who can't kill his father's killer?

All of my impressions of Hamlet are from back then. Maybe I'll look at him differently now but I never bothered to read it again. Back then I found him extremely annoying out of all of Shakespeare's characters (that I had read). Dude is so fickle-minded (yes that's a word I learnt from that class lol) he can't think straight, he can't choose and can't decide upon anything, even after confirming his Uncle killed his father. That's a pretty weak personality.

And he was a. Total. Jerk. To Ophelia. Telling her he loves her and then he doesn't and then acting so badly with her. I had no interest in romance back then but even I wished she should just find another man. Turns out she just drowned.

And the end, well damn I didn't know whether to laugh or be furious at it. Everyone on stage died. Not a single person left alive. My younger self had a beef with that but now I think it was a pretty fitting end. They were miserable and living messy lives so probably death was the best conclusion lol.

But I was angry at how long Hamlet took to make up his mind and kill his uncle. He turned his life into a drama - which I suppose it already was lol

Anyway, I didn't expect this to become a tirade about Hamlet's life choices here 😂 and I can't say I still hold the same opinion of this play since this is what I felt years ago but I still remember the irritation well. I'll have to read it again and find out what I think now.

For some reason I feel I'm not gonna like Hamlet this time around either

Thanks for the ask!! I had a great time rambling haha

I'd really love to know how you reached the conclusion about Hamlet. I don't think I mentioned him before 🤔

Assumptions ask game

[sharry-arry-odd]

"What is a game?" Marx said. "It's tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. It's the possibility of infinite rebirth, infinite redemption. The idea that if you keep playing, you could win. No loss is permanent, because nothing is permanent, ever."

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin

[riighteouspath]

shakespeare aesthetics

romeo & juliet. suburban july. scraped knees. bruised knuckles. blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in the breeze. burning inside. an ill - fitting party dress. a t - shirt you cut up yourself. the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friends house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with a sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn looking basketball hoop at the end of a cul - de - sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip - flops. a eulogy written on loose - leaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet. speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn. mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you'd say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins. books with cracked spines. books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls' day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. the uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. an oversized t - shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil beneath your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night. wicker deck furniture. new england summer. large sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean. patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. the smell of chlorine. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love. love for the idea of love. love for love's sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar. fishermen with tattoos. a pretty boy with a slacked tie. a lighthouse. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. big, floppy sunhats. double - speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drank on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you're unprepared for. hope you weren’t expecting. pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth. the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat. the stillness after a battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. the smell of sulfur. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. a chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path. an owl that watches you. a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke, dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now.

much ado about nothing. the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck. military supply duffel bags in the hall. hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch. a pitcher of iced tea. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. ill - timed proclamations. stomach clenching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen. a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog - eared rhyming dictionary. chamomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you're home until you’re there.

king lear. cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lighting, a too big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red - black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown out windows of a skeletal house. decay. jokes that aren't jokes. biting your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods. wondering if the gods are listening. worrying that the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream. the smell of wet soil and dead leaves. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill someone slipped you. fear that turns into excitement. excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hallow in an old tree. glow in the dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

[hiemalsborderland]

FIC IS OUT !!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63544828

^ its pretty short but uh whatever whoopsie daisies you can keep this in mind while you read if you want :)) v

[pensivegladiola]

Shakespeare preparing to write Titus Andronicus:

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

How successful would Othello…

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