#it would be like someone speaking shakespearean english

[waitineedaname]

I JUST HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS ABOUT XING. if the chang clan's population is small and the yao clan's is huge, does that mean the chang clan is more rural while the yao clan is perhaps more urban? what regions of xing are they from? large population centers tend to gravitate towards water, so is the yao clan on the coast? where is the capital of xing? what clan was the old emperor from? I want to know more!!!!!!!!!

[jkriordanverse]

Max hcsssssss bc she's the best

- she was an adventure time kid - Also a major Marvel nerd and had the biggest crush on Miles Morales when it first came out (cough cough Xander) - She's giving the best friend of MC who hides their pain with their laughter 100% - She definitely had trust issues with other relationships after what happened with her ex. - the type of person to open a cookbook, chooses a recipe, ditch the recipe and wonders why their result is not the same. - She had an embarassing old roblox phase - Used to talk solely in memes when she was younger (still does sometimes) - She's 100% the type of person to pretend not to speak English when she gets a ticket. - Used to want to be like Finneas and Ferb and did so many random shit in her backyard - Tried to go vegetarian as a kid because she saw this one movie about cannibals. - dressed up as a thug for Halloween with Xander (the one with the golden chains and the baggy pants and everything) - Used to troll and confused people so much bc she learned how to flip and climb trees as a child and everytime someone asked how she did that she'd flip her hair dramatically and go, "Oh, I'm Asian" like it explained everything. - Became friends with Avery bc when she first moved to their school she pretended not to speak English bc she thought the gestures Avery made trying to signal to her was funny. - used to submit her homework in thick Shakespearean (i did this so many times lmao) - when she was a kid she would tell the kids in kindergarten she was a princess/descendant of some Boba Dragon King and the kids treated her like royalty - acted like the lived in the jungle and her family were rice farmers at summer camp.

[dkniade]

Translating Xiao’s “Hello” Voiceline

This line’s formal tone and word choice in particular makes him sound like an immortal figure in a xianxia drama. It’s hard to convey in English, but the best equivalent in English speech would be a bard character going all Shakespherean (so like, Fischl, I guess). I’ll include both a Shakespearean-esque rendition, and a base translation in prose.

Original and Renditions / Tone in the Different Languages / Translation Notes on Chinese Words and Idioms / Localizing It into Shakespearean English

Original

如遇失道旷野之难，路遭贼人之难，水火刀兵之难，鬼神药毒之难，恶兽毒虫之难，冤家恶人之难，便呼我名。

「三眼五显仙人」——「魈」，听召前来守护。

.

My Rendition

Come pathless wilds or thievish tricks, crises grave or spirits vile, hidden beasts or mortal foes, call out my name. 

“The Mighty and Illuminated Adeptus”— Xiao, summoned hither to protect.

.

Translation in Prose

Edit: the character 难 is better translated as “calamity” instead of “disaster”

If you encounter the disaster of losing your path in the wilderness, the disaster of running into thieves on roads, the disaster of natural calamities and war, the disaster of manipulative gods and poisonous medicine, the disaster of malicious beasts and poisonous insects, or the disaster of arch-nemeses and evil-doers, then call out my name. 

“The Mighty and Illuminated Adeptus”— “Xiao”, summoned here to guard you.

.

Official Translation

If you awake to a knife at your throat, if monsters dig their claws into you, if death comes knocking at your door, call out my name. Adeptus Xiao. I will be here when you call.

Tone

Key Traits of Archaic Chinese Speech

uses few characters to express rich imagery 

descriptive four-character phrases are a giveaway 

implied subjects with limited use of pronouns or “I” or “you” 

results in a compact and poetic “less is more” style 

common speaking style for immortals (仙人) in xianxia dramas

.

Key Traits in Chinese Voiceline

archaic Chinese 

extremely formal tone

lists off various intense, worst-case scenarios 

last line implies someone under a contract or code of honour (think wuxia escorts)

overall signifies he’s an Adepti due to his poetic speech (see above section)

.

Key Traits in Official Translation

edgy

lists off some bad scenarios 

loyal

(kind of hard to take seriously)

The translation of this particular line did not do Xiao justice at all. The archaic tone is completely lost, the intense scenarios are watered down and replaced, and the last line forgoes his longer title along with his implied contract-abiding loyalty.

In addition, in his profile specifically (rather than quests), due to the voice acting, Xiao’s Chinese voice gives the image of a distant/cold and calm young man, while his English voice makes him sound like an edgy teenager. 

Words and Phrases

Edit: “[scenario]之难” is better translated as “the calamity of [scenario]” instead of “the disaster of [scenario]”

The Chinese line follows the format of “If you encounter the disaster of [scenario], [lists off six disastrous scenarios], then call my name. [Adeptal Title] — Xiao, [formal declaration of a summon to protect].” The scenarios are each a four-character phrase, followed by 之难 (“the disaster of~”).

.

失道旷野之难

pinyin: Shīdào kuàngyě zhī nàn / Shi1dao4 kuang4ye3 zhi1 nan4

“The disaster of losing your path in the wilderness”

Man VS nature

.

路遭贼人之难

pinyin: Lù zāo zéirén zhī nàn / lu4 zao1 zei3ren3 zhi1 nan4

lit. “The disaster of running into thieves on roads”

贼人 refers to thieves or bandits

likely alluding to Treasure Hoarders

Man VS man

.

水火刀兵之难

Shuǐhuǒ dāobīng zhī nàn / Shui3huo3 dao1bing1 zhi1 nan4

“The disaster of natural calamities and war”

lit. “The disaster of blade-wielding soldiers of fire and water”

This one likely refers to the idiom 刀兵水火 (lit. “Blade-wielding soldiers and fire and water)

刀兵 refers to war; 水火 refers to natural disasters of floods and fires

Overall, natural and man-made calamities (idiom: 天灾人祸)

Man vs nature, man vs society

.

鬼神药毒之难

Guǐshén yào dú zhī nàn / Gui3shen2 yao4 du2 zhi1 nan4

“The disaster of manipulative gods and poisonous medicine”

lit. “The disaster of demonic gods and poisonous medicines”

鬼神 refers to evil spirits, evil deities, etc 

Possibly alluding to the hatred of the fallen gods Xiao slayed, or perhaps manipulative deities?

药毒 can refer to medicine with poison in them, expired/low-quality medicine, or misusing medicine for a treatment. Generally, something bad with natural properties medicine

man VS nature (?)

.

恶兽毒虫之难

È shòu dúchóng zhī nàn / E4 shou4 du2chong2 zhi1 nan4

lit. “The disaster of malicious beasts and poisonous insects”

恶兽 refers to dangerous or malicious animals or beasts (natural ones, not those of a magical nature)

毒虫 refers to poisonous insects

man VS nature

.

冤家恶人之难

Yuānjiā èrén zhī nàn / Yuan1jia1 e4ren2 zhi1 nan4

“The disaster of arch-nemeses and evil-doers”

lit. “The disaster of enemies and evil people”

冤家 refers to an enemy or arch-nemesis

恶人 refers to evil/bad people, evil-doers, etc

man VS man

.

三眼五显仙人

Sān yǎn wǔ xiǎn xiānrén / San1 yan3 wu3 xian3 xian1ren2

Localized as “mighty and illuminated adeptus”

lit.  "three eyes and five manifestations immortal”

(Info from HoYoverse’s Developer Insight on Xiao’s concept development) 

仙人 are “demigod-like ‘immortals’” in Daoism

“The ‘three eyes’ part of the adepti's title refers to the ‘third eye’ possessed by those with the ability to manipulate elemental energy”

In humans, Visions (神之眼, lit “Eye of God”) fulfill this purpose

.

听召前来守护

Tīng zhào qián lái shǒuhù / Ting1 zhao4 qian2 lai2 shou3hu4

“Summoned here to guard [you]”

tone is similar to something like “Xiao, reporting for duty”

lit. “Heard the order to be summoned and came to guard [you]”

召 means “summon” (verb) as in “order (someone) to be present”

前来 means “to come”

守护 means “to guard” (compared to 保护 which is “to protect”)

Rendering It into Shakespearean English

There’s no way to truly capture the imagery and connotations invoked in Chinese, but a close localization would be to write it in Shakespearean English. The straight translation in prose is too long, and there’s no rhythm in it.

To recap, here’s information about Xiao which we can infer from his speech

States the absolute worst-case scenarios (ambush, war, natural disasters, evil deities and beasts, enemies, etc) as plausible reasons for being summoned

an Adepti (immortal in the xianxia genre) due to his formal speech 

last line implies someone under a contract or code of honour (think wuxia escorts)

Progress Rendition

“Come blinding wilderness or thievish paths, [水火刀兵], malicious spirits, fatal insects or mortal enemies, call out my name. Adeptus Xiao, summoned hither to protect.” Summoned hither at thy behest.

.

I rendered it like so:

Come pathless wilds or thievish tricks, crises grave or spirits vile, hidden beasts or mortal foes, call out my name. 

“The Mighty and Illuminated Adeptus”— Xiao, summoned hither to protect.

----

“pathless wilds or thievish tricks”

“the disaster of losing your path in the wilderness, the disaster of running into thieves on roads”

“crises grave or spirits vile”

“the disaster of natural calamities and war, the disaster of manipulative gods and poisonous medicine”

“hidden beasts or mortal foes”

“the disaster of malicious beasts and poisonous insects, or the disaster of arch-nemeses and evil-doers”

“summoned hither to protect”

“Summoned here to guard [you]”

.

Meter

Iambic tetrameter (unstressed-stressed 4x, or x / x / x / x /) for the first part

(e.g. come PATHless WILDS or THIEvish TRICKS)

Catalectic trochaic tetrameter (stressed-unstressed 4x with last syllable missing, or / x / x / x / ) for the next two parts

(e.g. CRIses GRAVE or SPIrits VILE)

[datasoong47]

Idea: A sci-fi time-travel story with people from, say, 2423 travelling back to today. But, language evolves and 25th century English is not going to be the same as 21st century English, so having future characters and modern characters speaking the same is unrealistic

Several possibilities:

Create a future-English conlang for all your characters from the future. This would be a bit inconvenient and depending on how much change you apply might make the characters difficult for the audience to understand, especially problematic if the 25th century characters are your main POV characters. Might not be as much a problem if the main POV characters are the 21st century characters. At the very least, they're going to sound strange to listeners

Leave the characters from the future speaking normal 21st century English, but to simulate the language difference, have your 21st century characters speaking in Shakespearean English. Advantages: easier to understand the 25th century characters, especially important if their the main POV characters, and most English-speakers have at least some understanding of Shakespearean English. Disadvantage: would sound very anachronistic to have 21st century characters talking like someone out of Shakespeare

The time-travellers studied 21st Century English before their trip (maybe you could even show a brief scene in a classroom where they're studying older forms of English), so they're speaking more or less normal 21st century English, but sometimes they slip up (if they're seasoned time travellers, they might even mess up by occasionally slipping in an archaism "Yes, I would fain join you on that expedition"), and maybe have a peculiar accent (especially useful if the POV characters are the 21st century characters - might be a bit less believable if you're focusing on the 25th century characters and so you have scenes with only the future people talking to each other but still using 21st century English)

For comedic effect, you could have them mixing up eras and accidentally using all-out Shakespearean English - they accidentally signed up for the wrong class, or their mission was changed at the last moment - "Hey, bud, I know you've been studying up for that trip to 1607, but looks like we need you to go to 2023 instead" "Wait, what? But I haven't studied early 21st century English!" "Eh, close enough"

[bushs-world]

Ok, so Quantumania done means Loki rewatch time coz blorbo 😍😍😍 but seriously, I really appreciate the way the series broke Loki out of his cool, controlled mask he always wore, particularly all throughout Thor to TDW and gave us a much more relatable and open Loki.

No more grand speeches, no more heavy handed eloquence that felt forced, no more controlled reactions. No, for the first time Loki was truly free from all the expectations, both self imposed and those he carried as a prince and later in trying to show himself as a powerful, formidable villian.

Just an open, vulnerable Loki who acted how he wanted without having to care about how others would perceive him. And that's what I love about the series that it gave us a Loki without any need for validation or any external pressure and showed us just who the guy is behind his projected image that he wore all throughout Thor to TDW.

And thank God, the man behind all that is an innocent trickster and not mr. Brooding guy. Loki had always been a trickster and a prankster be it in myths or comics and while his story had a lot of emotional weight, he was always a silly character. And I love MCU finally let him be silly and a dork.

What I particularly loved is how Loki went from feeling forced, like someone trying really hard to overcompensate (which he was tbh hence his controlled persona) like a cat puffing out it's chest to appear more intimidating to a more natural, real, raw characterisation.

But I think that was always the point. The Loki from Thor to TDW wasn't the real Loki but a controlled persona conjured by him to elicit a certain response from others (coz he was scared of being mocked). And the one we see in Ragnarok and the series is the real Loki, who he truly is when he isn't trying to force others to view him a certain way.

And that reflects beautifully in his speech which went from feeling kind of forced in Thor to TDW to more natural from Ragnarok. Like he's still Loki but now he speaks like how a real person speaks, not someone trying to gain authority.

I think it becomes very clear his so called 'shakespearean' speech is just a intimidation tactic in episode 1 and 2. During the interrogation scene and when he's trying to convince Sylvie to come join him, he speaks in a lower, slower, deeper voice with more advanced English as a way to appear more threatening and powerful. And my best scene is when his mask slips during the interrogation.

He goes from 'there's a fork in every road' to 'i know' in a split second and the sudden change in his demeanor is always hilarious. Tom Hiddleston is awesome. He promised to show us what makes Loki tick and he really laid it out bare for everyone to see.

The entire series, but especially ep 1-3 were like going inside Loki's mind and understanding what makes him tick .

Just chef's kiss 😘. I don't think anyone else could have accomplished what the team of S1 had done

[smoll-tangerine]

One of your stories: set in 1659

Your Y/N in said story: “i’Ll sEe yOu gUyS tOmOrRow”

Just in what universe did people from the 1600s speak like this? And you have the audacity to put a disclaimer that says “aNy siMilAriTiEs aRe cOiNcidEnCes” when you can’t even keep their manner of speaking as historically accurate as possible — and this should have been the least of your “story”’s problems.

Another thing.

smoll-tangerine in her A/N: “tHaNkS tO mY pRoOfrEaDer”

The “proofread” work not even halfway through later:

“aT tHe aGe oF mAjOrITy”

“lEft riGhT fInGEr”

Yeah, don’t ever come back and write. Y’all put to shame and great waste every resource material available for actually-decent writers.

I honestly don’t know why I’m taking the time of the day to reply to such message. But I figured, since you also took the time to read through 30k words and also took the time to write wtv issue you had with my fic, I might as well answer it lol

1) “Just in what universe did people from 1600s speak like this?”: If I were to use the English people used to speak back in the 1600s, no one would be able to understand. Technically, Early Modern English which was prominent from the 1400s to the late 1600s, is unintelligible to modern speakers (i.e., plebs like you and me) unless you’ve studied it. I would have to write like Shakespeare. You can argue that a lot of Modern English words or sayings came from Shakespearean English, and people will only understand some of it. Also, issue is, I can’t write Shakespearean English, and Shakespearean English is so complicated that I didn’t even want to attempt it because of annoying hating readers like you who nitpick at every irrelevant detail that has nothing to do with the plot.

2) The fic is also set in Versailles, France. Going by your logic, the characters should then be talking in French. Hell, I could’ve written everything in French if I wanted to because I am French. But that wouldn’t be fair to people who cannot read French. Once again, Middle French is highly complicated and no one would be able to understand unless they’re a) a native speaker, and/or b) someone who studied and understand Middle French. Honestly, in WHAT universe do FICTIONAL CHARACTERS set in FRANCE speak ENGLISH!!! Cannot fathom this logic!!!

3) “And you have the audacity to put a disclaimer that says ‘any similarities are coincidences’ when you can’t even keep their manner of speaking as historically accurate as possible.”: Bestie, go back and read what you just wrote because it makes no sense, and there’s no correlation between the two.

4) “The age of majority” is a thing. I don’t know why you’re so pressed about this. Are you illiterate.

5) “Left right finger”: Thanks for catching that typo! I still don’t understand why you’re so angry about the fact that my FANFIC had typos (but ok). But also, let’s see you try writing a fic that’s 30k words and see if you won’t make any mistakes or miss any typos. Make sure to drop the link in my inbox when it’s ready. I’ll give back the same energy you gave me. 💅🏼

Next time, don’t be shy and come off anon. :-)

[zephosthefaedemon]

How many languages do they speak? Would they like to learn more?

Zephos speaks a few languages. Overall I'd say it's 5 languages, depending on how you'd consider her Fae languages. Otherwise I'd say it's 3 languages.

She learned Fae first, which is closest to Welsh in tongue with two variants. She had to learn High Fae first, which is where you see the more Shakespearean or Old English speaking pattern, which is in itself almost a different language (Try reading the Canterbury Tales untranslated). Common Fae is straight up Welsh in text. There is also Fae Sign, which is similar to ASL. She then learned human variant Welsh, pretty much the same as Common Fae. Lastly she learned English, which reminds her of High Fae but more like common English of today.

She is also in the process of learning modern English, and the dialects due to a certain Ddriag and his southern accent intriguing her.

Does she want to learn languages otherwise, I believe she does. She likes to learn about other people, and knowing more languages can be helpful. She'd like to learn Latin for sure, perhaps French. Otherwise if someone wanted to teach her she would be a willing student.

[matcheadz]

Host of Seraphim Crumbs

Since I’m at the butt end of a 56 hour 4 day week and sleep deprived and not posting anywhere, let me drop some Host of Seraphim random facts.

Host of Seraphim is the name of a song that is very personal to me. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s mine.

The title is also *obviously* very important to the story. But it’s also an important phrase spoken by someone crucial to the plot. If you are one of two people who I know theory craft a little bit, theory craft on that. Bitch (/af)

Transfer, as I’ve named it, is actually based on a concept called Sending established in an old 80s sci-fi fantasy series I was obsessed with as a kid. Sending is a special connection between a dragon and the person who raised it where they can read each other’s thoughts through the sharing of blood. Blood plays a very important role in the series, but it’s basically used like this:

Dragons are born maybe 5/50 eggs, and a dedicated trainer will be present for the hatching so that they can form a connection with the new hatchlings. The newborns will peck at their fingers and inadvertently consume the blood of the trainer, allowing a connection to form that will last their entire life. Some dragons are intelligent enough for word speech, some can only Send colors or images. For whatever reason, dragons understand Shakespearean theater English better, and thus I developed a love for the word “thus” at a young age.

I modified Sending and combined it with my own personal unfounded beliefs in blood memory. Kind of Assasin’s Creed-esque, blood contains your memories but also the memories of your ancestors. It chooses to manifest itself in different ways. Not, like, ACTUAL memory like Assasins Creed, but like… you remember the thoughts of your ancestors in the way you look or act or love things.

For example, Nelo Angelo kind of looks like a fucked up Sparda. That could be just genes, but that’s also what I mean. Nero’s adorable love for Kyrie is an expression of Sparda’s love for his wife. Eva probably once felt the twins kicking violently and called them little spitfires. And thus it manifested. Sparda probably was really excited to have a kid to share his heritage with and spoke that aloud to Eva. Speaking something aloud has a lot of power in magick, and Eva would know that.

Also, angels do not exist.

[amitapaul]

44/28

28/4/24

Format Final

#24gloponapowrimo #amitasinfinity

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

#24GloPoWriMo

Prompt Dated : 2024 April 28

Response No : 1

Poem No: 44

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

Prompt : Try your hand at writing a sijo. This is a traditional Korean verse form. A sijo has three lines of 14-16 syllables.

You could also write a sijo in six lines – at least when it comes to translating classical sijo into English, translators seem to have developed this habit.

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

Featured Poem :

Today’s featured participant is MellowYellow, which brings us a driving, musical poem in response to Day 27’s American sonnet prompt

Glass Heart Sonnet

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

once you pity the fig tree because its roots

keep it moored in this unfortunate place

twice you are jealous when you know its branches

take joy in stroking strands of longhaired wind

she is a wild woman, cool and hip and tripping

on acid jazz, loose lipped and adlibbing, freestyle mix

just breathe he says, just drive he says to the fields

the painting is really bodily fluids, life of the artist

as is music and poetry, the amniotic, the vomit

lymph, blood and ejaculate of their spirit, such inspiration

can feel unpalatable, yet truth does not require your appetite

someone sings to the siren across the lake, it is France

birds be dub, be good to me and I won’t bend this heart

it’s made of glass, and facetted like freedom, and reflects

…

Saffron 2024

Prompt 27th April 2024

Write an “American sonnet.” What’s that? Well, it’s like a regular sonnet but . . . fewer rules? Like a traditional Spencerian or Shakespearean sonnet, an American sonnet is shortish (generally 14 lines, but not necessarily!), discursive, and tends to end with a bang, but there’s no need to have a rhyme scheme or even a specific meter.

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

Poetry Resource :

Our featured resource for the day is Harriet Books, the Poetry Foundation’s online website devoted to poetry book reviews, poetry news, and poetry-themed blog poets.

FEATURED BLOGGER

The Turmeric Poets (Part III)

BY VI KHI NAO

For myself, I have yet to find an interpretation that speaks of a potent tender rawness of the bucolic, aurous, inviting texture of “Đây Thôn Vĩ Dạ.” The poem holds the lunular strand of my existence on the prismatic brink of sedated, gilded mahogany, that deliquesced beige, dust-like state between disintegrated mortal recoil of a verdant, ephemeral, cognitive afternoon and my muted, ratiocinative love for a distant Vietnam. Despite encountering what many would consider a noteworthy translation by N.T. Anh in Modern Poetry Translation, the translation struck me as incomplete, somehow lacking or overly sanitized. Motivated by this sense of dissatisfaction, a form of constructive discontent, I embarked on the daunting task of crafting my own translation, drawing on the most authentic vernacular of my lexical lineage.

“Đây Thôn Vĩ Dạ.”

Here in Georgic Vĩ Dạ, translated by Vi Khi Nao

Won't you come visit georgic Vĩ ?

And, gaze at rows of newly awakened light

mounted on the areca trees

In satiny garden verdant as jade

As bamboo foliage hyphenates

& shades the field

Wind bands with wind, cloud with cloud

The river glides sadly while the cornflowers sway

Whose boat perches on the moonlit river

Will it escort the moon back in time tonight?

Musing of faraway travelants,

faraway travelants

Oh darling, your blouse so insolently

white, so insolently disguised

Here the smoke-smeared fog blurs the sylph

Mine or yours – whose love has more umami, is more profound?

Đây Thôn Vĩ Dạ by Hàn Mặc Tử

Sao anh không về chơi thôn Vĩ?

Nhìn nắng hàng cau nắng mới lên.

Vườn ai mướt quá, xanh như ngọc

Lá trúc che ngang mặt chữ điền.

Gió theo lối gió, mây đường mây,

Dòng nước buồn thiu, hoa bắp lay...

Thuyền ai đậu bến sông trăng đó,

Có chở trăng về kịp tối nay?

Mơ khách đường xa, khách đường xa,

Áo em trắng quá nhìn không ra...

Ở đây sương khói mờ nhân ��nh,

Ai biết tình ai có đậm đà?

In the act of translating the text, my aim was not to westernize it, but rather to capture its intrinsic 'nghệness' or its 'yellow spice,' endeavoring to extract not just superficial hints but the tunic of turmeric. Unlike the culinary process of taste-testing a dish to ensure the right balance of salt, pepper, paprika, and turmeric, translation is more about the nuanced garment of soul and soil. It involves posing the correct questions for appraisal. I consistently interrogate myself: does this poetic re-concoction contain an adequate infusion of yellow? Does it bear (bà gánh) the right measure of 'nghệ' or 'duende'? Does it appropriately shoulder the precise weight of (xứ) nghệ?

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

Prompt : Try your hand at writing a sijo. This is a traditional Korean verse form. A sijo has three lines of 14-16 syllables. The first line introduces the poem’s theme, the second discusses it, and the third line, which is divided into two sentences or clauses, ends the poem – usually with some kind of twist or surprise.

You could also write a sijo in six lines – at least when it comes to translating classical sijo into English, translators seem to have developed this habit, as you can see from these translations of poems by Jong Mong-Ju and U Tak.

The Faithful Heart

Jong Mong-Ju

1320 – 1392

Though this body die and die,

though it die a hundred times;

though these bones bleach and pulverize to dust;

whether my soul will be or will not be––

This heart was pledged to my lord:

how could it ever change?

Jong Mong-Ju, born in 1320, was an ambassador, and a poet. He was assassinated in Taejong in 1392.

****

2060

U Tak

1263 –1343

The spring breeze melted away the snow

on the hills and was quickly gone without a trace

Would that I borrowed it briefly

to blow through my hair;

I wish to blow away the ageing frost

thickening behind my ears.

This poem is in the public domain. Classical Korean Poetry: More Than 600 Verses since the 12th Century (Fremont, California: Asian Humanities Press, 1994).

U Tak, born in 1263, was a Korean philosopher of neo-Confucianism and poet. He died in 1343.

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

Poem Title : Impotence

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

Spring after spring has come and gone with its plum blossom promising

High hopes that rise like frothy waves towards the sky to pluck the moon

Branches bear fruit, waves fish and weed : hopes ebb, fade infertile.

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

Poet : Amita Sarjit Ahluwalia

Poem 44 / Day 28

%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^%^

Day 28

We’re in the home stretch now, with just three days left to go in this year’s Na/GloPoWriMo!

Today’s featured participant is MellowYellow, which brings us a driving, musical poem in response to Day 27’s American sonnet prompt.

Our featured resource for the day is Harriet Books, the Poetry Foundation’s online website devoted to poetry book reviews, poetry news, and poetry-themed blog poets.

Finally, our optional prompt for the day asks you to try your hand at writing a sijo. This is a traditional Korean verse form. A sijo has three lines of 14-16 syllables. The first line introduces the poem’s theme, the second discusses it, and the third line, which is divided into two sentences or clauses, ends the poem – usually with some kind of twist or surprise.

You could also write a sijo in six lines – at least when it comes to translating classical sijo into English, translators seem to have developed this habit, as you can see from these translations of poems by Jong Mong-Ju and U Tak.

Happy writing!

****

[javascript-official]

You know how sometimes there are some goofs in movies like someone listening to a song released in 1972 when the movie is supposed to take place in 1968 or something like that? Or how we are surprised that woolly mammoths where still alive when the pyramids where built. I wonder if future generations would do that with us to the extreme, like imagine a kid in 2134 being surprised that the coronavirus plague and the smartphone existed at the same time, or a movie in 2503 set in our current year with the actors wearing victorian era clothes and speaking in Shakespearean english. Just a thought

[bussyslayer333]

Mad About the Boy

fratboy!bradley bc i said so (isn’t he so meow in this)

summary: trying to tutor bradley bradshaw was infuriating for many reasons, not all of them you expected.

pairing: fratboy!bradley x tutor!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut but no actual sex, allusions to smut, swearing, frat boys 😟, pet names, one mention of daddy issues (not in reference to reader) MDNI 18+

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Romeo is crazy for tying himself down like that so young,” Bradley complains for what seems like the hundredth time in the past hour.

You sigh, sick of his Shakespeare ‘interpretations’ which have been interrupting your tutoring session. This year you had prayed that keeping your head down and getting on with your classes would mean you could get by with ease. However, your English lit professor had other ideas. You had no idea why Bradley Bradshaw was even in this class, from what you had heard he was headed straight to flight school after graduation so analysing classic literature didn’t necessarily seem up his alley.

“We’re not talking about Romeo, we’re talking about Juliet’s relationship with her father.”

“Shit, daddy issues? Yeah I’ve dealt with that before someone tell Romeo to get out while he can.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes once again and readjust your glasses.

“Look, I don’t think we’re getting anywhere today, we can just start again next session.”

Bradley seems upset at your suggestion and speaks up quickly, “No! Please, don’t go I’m sorry. I promise I’ll pay attention now.”

This was one of the many things you claimed to hate about Bradley Bradshaw. Not the fact that he was in a frat, or that he had a ridiculous name, it was the fact that he always managed to get you wrapped around his finger. You’d promised yourself when your professor had asked you to do this that you wouldn’t fall into his traps, his big brown eyes or his backwards caps that he somehow managed to pull off.

Bradley’s looking at you from where he’s sat across the table in the private room you’ve booked in the library. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a tight white t shirt, he discarded his large black hoodie on a chair to his right earlier. You try not to look into his big brown eyes but you feel it would be worse to let them drift down to where his shirt is drawn tight across the expanse of his chest.

Shaking your head slightly you refocus.

“Bradley you have to promise.”

“That’s what I said sweetheart.”

That was what you hated most. That he made you feel special. That he made you feel like you weren’t just some girl picked out to tutor him. When he talks to you he always makes eye contact, he has a way of making you feel like you’re the only two people in a room even if it’s bustling with life. Even when the things he says are stupid and lack thought you want to laugh, because you want him to look at you and smile.

Fiddling with a loose piece of wool in your knitted cardigan you continue,

“Well… okay then.”

Bradley smiles, “that’s my girl.”

Your stomach flips and you feel your cheeks warm. It’s utterly embarrassing but you can’t find it in you to care. You take a deep breath and reassess, looking down to your textbook at notes you’ve highlighted to bring up and explain.

What you don’t notice is Bradley watching your every move, smirking to himself as he sees how flustered you are.

“Right, so for context we understand the importance of the patriarchy in Shakespearean society, which is why it’s shocking to audiences of the time that she disobeys her father so brazenly to elope with Romeo.”

Bradley’s watching you with his mouth slightly open. He looks adorably stupid. You look up from where you’ve been reading your annotations and he closes his mouth and leans in closer.

“Do you understand?”

Bradley winces slightly apologetically and you sigh again, wracking your brain for a way to actually help Bradley retain the information. You think back to the past few tutor sessions you’ve had with him. You had done a small assessment with him where you divised a few questions on topics and themes you’d tried to cover with him. He had excelled in one specific part but the rest was very mixed with him. You wondered what you had done in that session for him to remember so well.

“Bradley, why do you remember act 2 so well?” You ask harmlessly. Wondering what technique you tried in that session that clearly worked so well.

Bradley flushes at your question, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly avoiding your eyes. You worry you’ve upset him and start to form an apology when he finally speaks up,

“Well it was on that really hot day, and you were so animated when you were explaining everything and God please don’t think I’m a dick but your tank top was really tight and I’m an idiot and-”

You’re laughing so hard Bradley stops his embarrassed rambling and looks up, brows scrunched together. You have to take a breath to collect yourself before you can speak again.

“My boobs are what kept your attention whilst talking about act 2 of Romeo and Juliet?” You giggle.

His cheeks are rosy and hot to touch, he looks bashful and has the decency to apologise,“I’m sorry, if it’s any help you were also very enthusiastic about it which was good as well.”

You snicker again and humour him, “So if I took my shirt off and repeated the last sentence you would know what’s going on?”

He laughs, glad you’re not upset at him, “I mean probably.”

He’s joking for the most part but it forms a plan in your head. You can’t really believe this is happening. You’ve seen the girls usually surrounding Bradley and you wouldn’t be a part of that crowd ever, but you’ve never seen him act this way around a girl so you decide to voice your plan.

“Bradley read back through the notes, then I’m going to quiz your orally.”

Bradley looks slightly crestfallen at the turn in conversation and at the idea that he has to study again, before you continue your plan.

“For every question you get right I’ll let you pick a piece of my clothing I have to take off.”

He looks up at you with a dazzling smile and you chuckle at his quick change in demeanour.

“Really?”

“I promise.” You mimic his words from earlier.

Bradley immediately opens his textbook to the same page as yours and pulls your notebook with extra annotations over. He reads with intent like you’ve never seen and you feel slightly annoyed that you’d never thought of this before.

You check your phone to find a text from your roommate Maya. She knew you were tutoring Bradley tonight and had sent a message saying she hopes it isn’t too bad. Boy if she knew.

You look up to see Bradley reading the last section of your notes. You’re shocked by how fast he read, before this you were 75% certain he couldn’t read, so it was a pleasant surprise really.

“I’m done, quiz me.” Bradley interrupts your train of thought.

He’s leaned back more slightly in his chair now, observing your movement openly. You stand to twist the lock on the door, although the room is in the corner of a secluded part of the second floor you can’t imagine the horror of the 70 year old library assistant (Laurie) who you’d become well acquainted with, walking in on you stripping for a frat boy.

You sit back down in your seat and pull your knees up to your chest. Bradley has closed the books and has his phone turned face down on the table, you’re impressed by his commitment.

You decide to start off easy wanting to test the water, “Why does Romeo refuse to fight Tybalt?”

Bradley smiled like you’ve asked him the easiest question in the world even though two hours ago he did not know who Tybalt was.

“He’s just married his cousin, he doesn’t want to start fighting his own family.”

You smile at his answer, “Correct.”

“Take that hideous cardigan off.” Bradley chuckles.

You gasp at his words, “I love this cardigan! My roommate knitted it for me.”

“Is she blind?”

You stifle a laugh and pull the cardigan off. Bradley sits up a little straighter as he takes in your attire which was hidden by the baggy outer layer. You’re wearing baggy sweatpants with a tight crop top. It’s worn, so it’s comfortable but it suits you well and hugs the right areas, it also shows that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. You take in Bradley’s tensed eyebrows and eyes that are already zoned in on you.

“Are you seriously rocking a semi after all I’ve done is take off my cardigan?” You tease in mild disbelief.

Bradley takes it in his stride, “It’s more from the relief of not having that eyesore right in my view anymore.”

You roll your eyes and continue on with your questions. He gets the next one right and opts for you to take off your shoes. Claiming it will make it easier for you to remove your sweatpants when he gets the next question right. You laugh at his cockiness but surely enough he gets it right. You make a show out of taking them off, wiggling your hips and turning around whilst you bend down to take them off fully. You’re glad that morning you decided to put on a nice pair of underwear, it’s lacy but tasteful. When you turn around Bradley is readjusting himself slightly and rubs a hand down his face. He has a lazy smirk plastered on,“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.”

Your face heats at his admission “You should have told me sooner.” You smirk back.

“I think you need to sit closer. So I can hear you better.” Bradley claims

You move around from the seat opposite to the seat right next to him, you go to sit down but you can see a sly look on his face that reveals he has an ulterior motive. He pulls you down onto his lap, you’re in a slightly awkward position at first but readjust so that you legs sit either side of his. You look up and catch his lips quirking up and he sighs contently as he feels the weight of you settle down on him.

“Much better.” He breathes.

You squirm slightly, worried that he can feel the warmth of you through his sweatpants. There’s only a few layers separating you now and it’s obvious to both of you. Bradley places his hands on your waist, stilling you. He groans as you rolls your hips accidentally.

“You’re killing me here sweetheart.”

You flush slightly but decide to continue your questions,

“What does her nurse suggest to Juliet at the end of the act and how does it affect their relationship?”

Bradley tries not to focus on how good you feel sat on him and wracks his brain for the answer. He remembers reading your notes about it and closes his eyes in thought. You roll your hips down with more purpose now and speak,

“5…4…3…”

Bradley groans but begins, “Bigamy! It ruins the trust they once shared!” He spits out with urgency.

He looks down at you and sees a pleased look on your face,

“Well done baby.” You speak but flush at how the pet name slips out and Bradley quirks an eyebrow.

“Shirt off, baby” Bradley copies you with a smirk on his face.

You consider letting him suffer, but you honestly want to as much as he does now. You tease him, lifting the bottom of the shirt slowly. It reaches the bottom of your breasts and you feel Bradley twitch in his sweatpants beneath you. Filled with a surge of confidence you lift your shirt swiftly, pulling it over your head carefully. Your glasses slip down your nose slightly but your hair remains mostly fine. Bradley groans loudly and you shush him.

“We’re still in a library after all,” you giggle.

He rolls his eyes but begins again, “Can I touch you?”

His sincerity shocks you and makes your heart race, “I think you deserve to yeah.”

His hands are on your breasts in an instant squeezing them with a look of awe on his face. It makes you laugh but you’re quickly silenced as his hard length is bucked up into you. You whimper quietly and he finally closes the space between you which has been reducing as the events unfolded. The kiss is tentative at first, he tastes like the spearmint gum he’s always chewing. You take the initiative and deepen the kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair, you can tell he enjoys the action because he whimpers into your mouth.

Bradley finally removes his hands from your breasts and moves them to skim along your waist and finally down to your ass. He plays with the lace of your panties and you hum into the kiss. When you finally part from his lips, his chest is heaving. Your lips are swollen and rouged from the pressure and he admires them, staring down at your face. You feel him ping your panties against your hip and you finally speak up,

“We can’t fuck in the library.”

Bradley laughs and you worry that you’ve assumed too quickly before he reassures you,

“I wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart, I’m far too gentlemanly for that.” He winks. “Come to mine? I really want to give you a tour of my bedroom, maybe we can continue our tutor session there?”

You laugh at his suggestions but nod your head anyway. Bradley is nice enough to give you your shirt that is strewn across the chair next to him. You pull it over your head and Bradley pouts playfully. Leaving his lap, you’re glad to see you haven’t left a wet spot on his sweatpants but you can quite clearly see his prominent bulge. Bradley smirks as he follows your eye line. Not wanting to boost his ego even further you spin on your heel to pick up your own sweatpants and shoes. You hear him whisper a quiet ‘goddam’ as you bend over to pick up your sweatpants and once you’ve pulled them on you turn around and stick your tongue out at him. He laughs through his nose as you lace up your shoes.

Standing back up you see that Bradley has collected your books into your tote bag and is wearing it over his shoulder. The sweet action makes you smile shyly and he extends his hoodie out to you.

“I’m not being seen with you in that cardigan.”

“Shut up.”

You take the hoodie anyway and pull it over your head. It smells dizzyingly like him and you shake your head to clear your thoughts. He’s holding both your bags and tells you your cardigan is in his backpack. You pick your phone up from the table and slide it into the front pocket of Bradley’s hoodie, you spot him shooting a text to his roommate Jake telling him to be gone by the time he gets back and giggle. You make a mental note to text Maya and tell her you’ll be back later than usual.

Bradley walks you to the door with his arm guiding you on your lower back. Once you’ve unlocked it and are walking out he slips his hand into yours. The action is far too sweet for all the things he’s about to do to you, but it shows you that maybe you don’t hate Bradley Bradshaw after all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: hehehehhee this was so self indulgent sorry,, i promise i will get to requests asap i just wanted to post this first :p i really hope everyone loves fratboy!bradbrad as much as i do

requests are still open !!!

pls reblog and comment or send me an ask and tell me what u think !!!

thanks for reading :)

- honey <333

[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!! 💕💕

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I am learning Arabic in my university and it’s MSA. A girl (who speaks Arabic) told me MSA is comparable to Shakespearean English but my teacher said they still use it in newspaper and the news channel. So I was wondering does it really sound outdated and if I speak it to someone would I get laughed at?

both are correct. MSA is used in "official" things like the news, legal documents, books etc but no one ever speaks it in real life and you will get laughed at if you use it. it's like cartoon arabic lol

each arabic country has it's different dialect (and ofc within that are the different accents) so much so that some arabic countries don't understand each other. for instance i'm from cairo egypt so i use cairene egyptian. which btw i recommend if you wanna learn conversational arabic because most arabs understand cairene egyptian as a lot of arabic countries consume egyptian media and it's a simple enough dialect. i like to compare it to american english. it's widely known and easily understood.

other than that the levant dialect (lebanse, syrian, palestinian) are aesthetically pleasing and sound flirty and sweet to arabic speakers. it's the sexy dialect in arabic lol

The benefit of using MSA is that almost all arabs will understand what you're saying. they'll giggle but they'll understand, unlike if you use a specific dialect. and they might give you a pass because you're a foreigner

hope that helped

[centaurianthropology]

The Babylon 5 reboot, what I would change (and keep)

So apparently there are talks to reboot B5 (thanks for the heads-up @ncfan-1), and now I’m thinking about rebooting B5.  We’re going to set aside the fact that it’s going to be on the CW, of all places, and I really don’t see how an old-school space opera is going to fly with their core demographic of teens.  It’s just an odd fit.  

Instead, I’m going to focus on things that I would love to see change, and things they better keep if they’re not cowards.

To Keep (You Cowards):

- Centauri hair.  It’s one of the most distinctive silhouettes in sci-fi.  In fact, lean into it.  Really get into the sense of fading opulence in their dress and mannerisms.  Outrageous hair and fashion, hell yeah.

-Accents.  Lean into this one, actually.  Everyone is speaking English without a translator, so accents should be everywhere.  I love the Minbari being Balkan.  I want the Centauri to be Eurotrash as hell.  The Narn ... who knows?  I just really love the sense that people had to work to communicate in the original series, and it really fed into the themes of the show.

-Grand, Shakespearean tragedy.  One of the things I love most about B5 is that it’s large.  It’s expansive in its tragedy and its gestures.  Things are heightened, a bit melodrama but a lot of Shakespeare.  Give me plenty of that.

-The Cartagia Arc.  Holy shit, everything about that arc was perfection.  I get that most of my Keep-It stuff is Centauri-related, but hey, that’s my jam.  

-Lockley.  I know she wasn’t the most popular, but if you’re still going to take John Sheridan on his whole messiah thing, I want someone from the other side to be given a sympathetic and interesting voice.

To Change (Sure, why not?)

-Gay it up.  There was a ton of subtext and hinting text in the original.  Some of it didn’t work out because of actor changes, some because the network wasn’t going to go for it.  Now that we’re in the 2020s, give us a proper relationship between Ivanova and Talia.  Give us Londo and G’Kar doing the proper enemies-to-star-crossed-lovers thing (and if we want to throw in Vir and Lennier, I personally would be over the moon).  

-Cultural differences and relativism.  I would love to see a space opera really explore cultural differences in a respectful and interesting way, where each species has different cultures and politics.  I know it would be complex, but I would love each faction to be fractious, with different religions, cultures, etc.  B5 sort of explored this, but I want to see way more.

-Give the denouement of the Shadow War proper room to breathe.  I get that they thought they were being canceled, so they had to rush through the end of the Shadow War so they could get into the Earth War, but after two seasons of killer build-up, it sort of felt anticlimactic.  So, a full season of end-of-Shadow-War stuff, with the Cartagia arc dovetailing into it, and then a full season of Earth War to wrap things up (we’re keeping a few things about season 5, but that season needs heavy revisions beyond what I can discuss here.  Just ... so many).

-Complicate John Sheridan.  His whole messiah arc always stuck me as off.  I was honestly on Garibaldi’s side for a lot of it, thinking there was something seriously wrong with it, and I would like to see that explored in way more depth.  Have him be flawed.  Have him not be messianic, but someone struggling and failing with expectations and ‘destiny’.  

-Complicate all the things even more.  The best thing about B5 was the muddiness of ethics and politics and the hard decisions and terrible consequences everyone faces.  So lean into that.  Make things even more complicated.  There are people trying to be good, but they will fail.  There are people who make terrible decisions and have to find some way back to salvation.  Londo’s redemption arc is pitch-perfect in the original, and I would love to see more of the characters get these sorts of arcs and these sorts of falls and slow crawls back to the light.

I’d love to hear other thoughts and ideas about things to change and things to absolutely keep.  Feel free to add your own!  As we all wait with mixed feelings to see if this reboot even gets off the ground, we can at least have a little fun.

[noelliza]

The Pursuit of Two Left Feet Ch 2 - Anderperry

Hey guys! Here‘s the final part of the fic. I hope you enjoy it! You can also read this on ao3 here.

Summary: Neil made the mistake of telling Charlie about his feelings for a certain poetic blonde, and in true Nuwanda fashion, he got up to some mischief. Now, stuck in a plan to sneak out of school to go to an underground swing dance club, Neil has to make the best of it and pray to God his father doesn’t find out. Hopefully, Neil will get something out of this excursion, perhaps the heart of the object of his affection. He believes it’s nothing more than a dream, a wish. However, Todd Anderson falling for Neil is more likely to happen than he thinks.

Part 1

~

Neil, Todd, you two ready for tonight?” Charlie asks, wiggling his eyebrows as he peeks his head into their room Friday morning.

“As ready as ever,” Neil says, the pit in his stomach growing at the reminder. He still doesn’t know what he’ll do if and when his father finds out.

Charlie pats the doorframe and winks at them before disappearing down the hall.

Neil turns to Todd who’s putting his sweater on, not phased by Charlie’s appearance. “This is not gonna go well,” Neil grumbles.

Todd laughs as the two grab their bags and decide to head down to breakfast.

The whole school day Neil’s thoughts are directed to the vision of sitting in Nolan’s office with his father, his life officially over. If this goes south, Neil’s father will never let him down for it. He wants to have faith in Charlie, but part of him struggles to. Charlie doesn’t care about getting in trouble, he wants to get kicked out. Neil just doesn’t think he’s really thinking this whole thing through.

During english, Neil notices that Mr. Keating shoots him a couple knowing looks, a flash of a smile that’s gone before Neil can process it. It makes him nervous, wondering if somehow he found out about their plan and therefore so did Nolan. Keating would never fink, but Charlie isn’t particularly great at keeping his mouth shut.

That night, Charlie grabs Neil’s suit and drags him to the bathroom,  shoving a hair comb and gel into his hands.

“Charlie, aren’t we making this a bit obvious if we’re getting ready in the bathrooms? Hager is gonna see us.”

“Relax, there’s no reason to hide. This is allowed,” Charlie says. “But I won’t be getting ready here, I have a new suit to give Todd, so we’ll be in my room. See ya!”

Before Neil can object and question his motive, Charlie is out of sight. Neil shakes his head and begins changing into the suit, trying to push back the looming anxiety of his father finding out about this scheme.

As he's combing his hair into place, he hears two pairs of feet barge into the bathroom, and in the reflection of the mirror is Charlie with Todd in tow.

“Perry! Lookin’ like a dreamboat!”

Neil nods in thanks before turning to Todd, whose mouth is open slightly, his eyes roaming up and down his body. “Um, you… you look… really nice,” Todd mutters with a gulp.

“Thank you, uh, so do you,” Neil replies distractedly, his eyes unable to focus on a single part of Todd as he takes in the sight of him. Todd looks incredible in his suit, and he’s surprised Charlie did such an amazing job dressing him. It fits him perfectly, as if it tailored to his exact measurements—he wouldn’t be surprised if that was intentional on Charlie’s part. The coat, tie and slacks are a rich navy blue with a white button up underneath, and the color makes his eyes gleam. His hair is slicked back with gel, revealing more of his face, his cheekbones appearing more prominent. It makes him look more open, soft, and Neil is completely stunned. He’s always thought Todd is handsome, but right now he’s completely mesmerizing.

“Earth to Neil?” Charlie calls, waving a hand in his face. Neil blinks rapidly and clears his throat. “Hey, your bow tie’s crooked. Todd, fix it for him, yeah? I’ll be right back,” he says, giving Todd’s shoulder a firm pat before swaggering over to Meeks who’s combing his hair at the other side of the bathroom.

“Uh, sure,” Todd stammers a beat late, his eyes darting around nervously. He steps up to Neil, reaching out with slight hesitation. Neil holds in a breath as he adjusts the tie back into place. He inadvertently stares at Todd's focused face, tempted to press a soft kiss to his now exposed forehead.

“Alright, let's head out!” Charlie shouts, motioning for them to head out into the hall. Todd pulls back, ducking his head and walking out of the bathroom in one swift motion. Neil sighs, turning his head and catching Charlie’s knowing gaze as he heads towards him. He throws an arm around Neil’s shoulder and leads him out.

Together, the boys make their way outside into the cold night, all of them chattering excitedly. Awaiting them, leaning against his car looking ready for a night out, is Mr. Keating.

Neil gapes. “Charlie, how did you…”

“Amazing, right?” Charlie says proudly, stalking off to the car.

“Hello boys, you all look fetching. Ready?” Mr. Keating greets the noisy bunch, a wide grin on his face as they approach him.

Before Neil can even say anything, he’s being shoved into the backseat, smushed between Todd and Charlie in the third row. Knox lays himself across the boys, his face right in front of Charlie’s.

“I’m liking this view,” Charlie smirks.

Knox rolls his eyes, slapping Charlie’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Wait, Captain, are you coming with us to the club?” Pitts asks as he slides into the second row after Meeks, closing the door.

“Oh no,” Keating chuckles, turning the car on. “I’m much too old for a hullabaloo. Don’t sweat it, this old man has plans of his own with a special lady tonight.”

The boys all holler and whistle, making Keating flush in embarrassment. “Yes, yes, your teacher has a real life too, I know it’s surprising. Let’s get rolling!” He calls, putting the car in motion.

“Captain, how did the school allow this?” Neil can’t help asking. Charlie gives him a look, but he ignores it.

“Well, they think we’re off to see an invigorating show about the life and work of William Shakespeare. As illuminating as I imagine it would be, that is not on the itinerary for you boys tonight. You’re off to a much more exciting endeavor filled with music, dancing, and a bit of romance,” he says, and Neil swears Keating meets his eyes through the rear view mirror. He looks away hastily.

“Aww, that actually sounded pretty interesting…” Cameron mutters, trailing off forlornly and glancing out the window.

Charlie elbows Neil in the ribs to make a point, and he makes an effort to hold in a groan. “We can drop you off there if you’d like Cameron?” Charlie smirks.

Neil returns the elbow in reprimand and Charlie squawks indignantly. “We can all go see that another time. I’m sure it’s quite interesting,” he says, sending Charlie a glare that he responds to with sticking his tongue out childishly. Knox snorts, resulting in a jab in the ribs courtesy of Charlie.

“Good idea,” Cameron says, his face lighting up. “You know, something  interesting about Shakespeare is that there was a seven year period between 1585 and 1592 where no one knew—”

“I’m going to claw my ears out before the end of this car ride and you’ll be next,” Charlie whispers aggravatedly in Neil’s ear.

“You’ll forget that as soon as we get there and you spot someone attractive,” Neil says wryly.

Charlie leans back, taking a deep breath with a startling, fierce look in his eye. Oh God…

“Thou doth thinketh I'm a predictable young squire? I willith kick thy bosom!” Charlie pronounces, sticking his finger in the air. Knox rolls his eyes.

“Charlie, a bosom is a woman’s chest,” Neil chuckles.

“Thine ears will suffer great of mine Shakespearean drivel until a most suffering death graces itself upon thee when mine fist meetseth thy cheek,” he says, folding his hand into a tight fist.

“I feel like you speak Shakespeare a bit too well for you to hate it as much as you say you do,” Knox prods with a crooked smile.

Charlie turns to Knox, leaning into his face. “Thou wilist meet a fate much alike if thou speaketh onward.”

“Bite me, nerd,” Knox grins.

In a blink, Charlie attacks Knox with his fingers, tickling his armpits and ribcage fervently as he cackles wickedly. Knox yelps and squirms fiercely, kicking his legs erratically, his arms flailing.

“Boy, boys, I’m all for a bit of roughhousing but please settle down until we get there,” Mr. Keating cuts in.

Charlie lets off, allowing Knox to catch his breath, and they both call back a low ‘yes, Captain.’ Neil feels Todd’s quiet laughs beside him, the breath hot beside his ear. He tries not to shiver at the sensation by focusing on the road ahead. They pass by trees lining both sides of the street, and in the distance he can see the beginnings of the town. As they proceed, he can make out the buildings, growing larger with each passing second. The illuminating signs on the buildings shine high above the people walking merrily down the sidewalk, contrasting the subdued ambience of their school. Neil thrums in excitement, and he tries to stay hopeful, pushing down the looming anxiety that this will all suddenly go wrong.

“I-I guess Charlie was right. This is working out.”

Neil looks at Todd, an amused smile gracing his face. “Yes, for now. Though any minute I anticipate something to blow up,” Neil jokes, knowing Charlie can hear him.

“Hey now, we’re off to fill our minds with the knowledge of the legendary William Shakespeare. If anything, Nolan is happy that a select few of Keating’s students seek such a riveting educational opportunity,” Charlie says in his most dramatic tone, and Knox sends him an exasperated look.

“Right.” Neil scoffs, earning poke on the cheek. Neil responds with a quick pinch on Charlie’s thigh, eliciting a yelp from him. Knox cackles as Charlie attempts to attack back with jabs to his arm and ribs, Neil giving a harder pinch on his arm. Before he can continue the attack, a hand wraps around his wrist, stopping his movement.

“I- we can’t until we get there. Captain’s orders,“ Todd says, flushing.

“It’s alright, trouble is what I live for,” Charlie says though he lets off, leaning over the seat to pull Meek’s hair. “Right Meeks?”

Neil hasn’t moved, his brain still frozen at Todd’s touch. “I- right.” Neil laughs faintly. He shakes his head and pulls his hand into his lap, ignoring the looks he’s getting from Charlie and Knox.

Neil stays silent the rest of the car ride, tuning out everyone’s voices around him. He’s fighting to ignore the feel of Todd’s leg pressed against his, the slight shake of his leg as he bounces it anxiously, the sight of his fingers tapping on his leg in repeated patterns. It’s also impossible to forget the feel of Todd’s hand circling his arm, his touch soft, almost like a caress. Neil aches to place his hand in Todd’s lap and let him hold it how he wants, yearning to feel his palm against his skin, perhaps in his own hand, once again.

Eventually, Keating pulls over in front of a lit up, cozy diner, with a neon sign hanging up titled “Leggy’s Breakfast Town.” Next to it is a smaller sign that reads, “Open 24 hours.”

"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow,” Mr. Keating says as the boys all climb out of the car.

“Romeo and Juliet!” Knox calls back proudly, closing the door once he steps onto the pavement.

“You got it Mr. Overstreet! Have fun!” Mr. Keating drives off, waving at them through the window before disappearing down the street.

Suddenly, Neil hears a car door open. He turns to see a green car parked up ahead, and stepping out of it is Chris in a flowy, emerald dress reaching her knees, fit slim on her waist. When Knox catches sight of her, he stares, drooling.

“Hey Knox,” Chris says with a radiant smile as she walks over to the group, her heels clicking on the sidewalk with each step.

“Chris… wow, you look…” he stumbles.

“Knox, save it for the club, come on buddy,” Charlie cuts in, clapping his shoulder and steering him inside. The other boys and Chris all tumble into the diner, following Charlie and Knox into the diner. The place is packed, filled with loud families and couples, eating burgers and dipping their fries in milkshakes, so no one bats an eye as the group crowds in the entrance.

Charlie stops and looks around before spotting a waiter cleaning behind the counter. He approaches the counter and leans over, resting his elbows on the surface with his famous Charlie smirk in place. “Hello, we’re here about your duck special,” he says in a low yet overly casual tone.

The waiter, a long haired boy looking about their age, holds Charlie’s gaze for a moment before nodding. “Yes, right this way,” he says, walking toward a long hallway. Neil glances at Todd who looks just as confused as he does before they walk after them. They reach a door that opens to a flight of dark, descending stairs, and the waiter leads them down, instructing the last person to close the door behind them.

“Isn’t it a bit noticeable when they take a bunch of teenagers to the back room that they’re not here for dinner?” Neil whispers furiously in Charlie’s ear after catching up to him.

“Relax, everyone here knows about the club, but no one says anything about it. They make major dough, so no one complains. The customers get good food, and the city makes capital. It’s a win win.”

Neil shakes his head as they reach the bottom, and the waiter opens the door, revealing a huge, bright room buzzing with life. It’s packed with people dressed in their most fancy attire—women in stunning, flowy dresses and men wearing fine suits. He sees numerous couples dancing across the expansive dance floor and others chatting away with cocktails in hand and wide smiles on their faces. Neil stares in awe, taking in the sight, unable to fathom that he’s standing here right now. He’s half expecting his father to appear any moment to shut down the place, ready to drag Neil home and give him the reprimand of his life. Abruptly, he feels Charlie pat his shoulder, which brings him back to himself.

“Alright mates, I’ve got some ladies to charm and men to woo, enjoy yourselves,” he says to the group with a wink before disappearing into the fray.

Neil stands there dumbly as the other boys start wandering off into the room. Since when does Charlie say ‘mates’? he wonders bemusedly. He hears someone clear their throat beside him and he turns to see Todd still standing there, looking at him with a nervous but expectant expression. A flash of panic shoots through him. This is it, the moment he’s been dreading and waiting for this entire week. He opens his mouth, the words on his lips, and panics.

“So… a drink?” Neil suggests, hating himself.

“I- uh, yeah sure. I’ll come with you..?”

“No, no. I’ll go. Find us a table?”

“Yeah sure,” he says, looking almost disappointed.

At that, Neil flees to the bar to get away from Todd, his heart crying more the further he goes. As he approaches, he schools his features into a more mature, serious look and straightens his posture. He leans over the counter until the bar man catches sight of him.

“I’ll have your strongest, please, and something sweet,” he says hastily as the bar man walks over. He frowns slightly, but just nods. “You got it.”

When he turns around, Neil releases a long breath, slouching over the bar. He’s such a fucking coward. Charlie put too much faith in him, there’s no way he can do this. Todd is just going to reject him and that’ll be the end of their friendship. He can’t afford to lose it.

Soon, the bar man returns with the drinks before turning to another customer. Neil grabs them and turns around, taking a step away from the bar to scan for Todd. He walks listlessly as he looks, but stumbles when he catches Todd on the dance floor with some random guy.

Suddenly, he collides into someone’s chest, and he returns his gaze in front of him to see his drinks spill right onto a man’s shirt, staining the white button up red. Neil pales in horror. “Oh my— I’m so sorry, I—”

“No! Don’t worry about it, nothing I can’t get out later,” the man says, sending Neil a reassuring smile. Neil’s face heats up at the sight—he’s quite attractive. He’s tall and lean with golden hair and a charming smile. His eyes are a blinding blue, shining in amusement.

“Want this one? I have an extra. They’re not the best here, but they sure do the trick,” he says, holding out a small, dark colored drink.

“Sure, thanks,” Neil says, putting his emptied drinks onto the bar with a grimace and accepting the glass. He takes a quick sip and has to withhold a cough at the strength of the drink, not wanting to embarrass himself.

“What are you doing on your own? Come here with anyone? Surely you didn’t have two drinks for yourself,” he chuckles softly.

“Yeah, my friends,” he says solemnly, his eyes glued to Todd across the room, having a grand old time with some stranger.

“Where are they?” he asks.

Neil watches dolefully as Todd is swung around the dance floor, his smile bright, blinding. He feels the man follow his gaze and soon he makes a noise of realization.

“Ah, I get it. You like him?”

Neil flushes, almost choking on his drink. “Wha— um… it’s…”

“No judgement, that charming fella over there is my boyfriend,” he says, pointing to the far corner of the dance floor where he’s dancing with a woman around his age, tall and gorgeous. They’re moving together like water, twirling around the floor without missing a single beat. It’s incredible. “Plus, this place is meant for people like us, so don’t sweat it,” the man adds.

People like us, Neil repeats internally. He supposes the man’s not wrong. Neil has come to accept that he isn't like most other boys his age, especially not the kind his father wants him to be. He relents with a sigh. “Well, yeah, fine. I do. Like him, that is.”

The man hums understandingly, taking a swig of his drink. “Does he know it?”

Neil shakes his head. “No, it’d ruin… everything.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well… I don’t think he’s…” Neil trails off, a part of him still terrified of saying the word.

The man laughs, which makes Neil frown. “I’ve been there too. I get that it’s scary, risking your friendship like that. But that’s the thing about life, sometimes it’s worth taking that leap. What’s that one saying… carpa dem…”

“Carpe diem,” Neil corrects, hiding a smile.

He snaps his fingers. “Yes! Carpe diem.”

Neil huffs a laugh at the irony. “Yeah, I try to live by that every day, actually.”

“Well, then why is this any different?”

“Because… he’s the most important person in my life. If I lost him…” Neil swallows, looking away.

“I see,” he says, taking a breath. “Well, I’m not gonna sit here and force you to do anything, this is your life. But take it from someone who was in your shoes once. If he’s meant to be in your life, telling him won’t ruin a thing. If not, then it means there’s someone else out there who’s meant for you.”

Neil simply nods. This man doesn’t understand that no one could ever replace Todd, but he doesn’t bother explaining it. “Yeah, well my father wouldn’t be pleased by this either.”

“Not accepting?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Neil says. “He’s trying to take hold of my entire life, insisting I have to go to Harvard, go to medical school and become a doctor.”

The man sighs sympathetically. “That’s a tough situation, what do you want to do instead?”

“Act, but that’s never going to happen,” he snorts.

“You know, my boyfriend said the same thing when he was around your age.”

Neil whips his head towards him in shock. “Really? He’s an actor?”

“Yeah, and he loved it. Now, he owns a small, local theater for children and teens in New York.

“That’s amazing,” Neil breathes.

“It is, I’m proud of him,” he says with a fond smile.

A part of Neil wonders if that future is possible for him, that despite everything, he has a shot. But even that doesn't overpower the voice in his head telling him it’s impossible, so he moves on from the thought. “What do you do?” Neil asks, taking a large sip of his drink, ignoring the burning in his throat as he swallows.

“Nothing nearly as exciting. I’m a lawyer,” he laughs. Neil nods. “Do you like it?”

The man shrugs slightly with a smile. “I do now, but I didn’t at first. Too much paperwork and talking to a bunch of stuck up people in overpriced suits. But then I got a case where I was defending this girl who was getting abused by her boyfriend. We won the case, and when I saw her face, it reminded me why I wanted to do this in the first place, to help people. It’s cheesy, but true.

“That’s really great,” Neil says.

“Thanks. But just know I’m not saying that to make you feel bad for not wanting to be a doctor,” he clarifies.

“Oh, no of course, I get it,” he says, not offended. He understands that helping others that way is their calling, but in Neil’s heart he knows it's not meant for him.

“My mother wasn’t very accepting of my choice of career either. Growing up, she wanted me to take over the family business. We own a restaurant in town called “Leandro’s Italian Restaurant.” My grandfather opened it, and after he got old, he passed it onto my mom. But let me tell you, I’m the last person you want in the kitchen. I manage to burn anything I lay my eyes on. Andrew won’t let me lift a finger when making dinner,” he chuckles.

“But she let you pursue that career instead when you told her?”

“Yeah, but I know it’s only because it pays well,” he says regretfully. “Unfortunately, that’s not always the case. Andrew’s parents were horrified at the idea of him becoming an actor. He told me about how they fought all the time, his father insisting he needs to have a real career with a steady income, but my stubborn Andy refused, of course. He worked as much as he could in school, saving up his money. Once he graduated, he got a second job and worked day and night until he was able to support himself and move out. It took him a few years to get it together, but eventually he made it onto the stage. He told me it was gruesome in the beginning, but that he’s never regretted it for a second. Such an optimist he is,” he says admiringly.

Neil nods absently, completely absorbed in the story. It’s possible, a small, hopeful voice in his head says. But that was one person… what if he’s not so lucky?

“Alright, I’ve chatted your ear off enough,” the man says, breaking Neil out of his thoughts as he pats his shoulder. “Go out there and dance! You’re young, enjoy it!”

“Okay. Thank you though, Mister…?”

“Emerson. But call me G.”

“You like poetry?” Neil asks with a playful smile.

G laughs, throwing this head back. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who hasn’t asked me some version of that question. I do, but not Emerson, funny enough. I’m more into the beat poets like Gary Snyder. Some powerful words, I’ll say. You?”

“Nice, I prefer Whitman,” Neil smiles. “Thanks for the drink!” He says, swallowing the rest before placing the glass on the table.

“Of course, don’t go too crazy though! Enough of those and you’ll wake up in the alleyway next to the diner. Trust me, I’ve been there,” G says slyly.

Neil laughs with a nod, holding G’s gaze for a moment longer before striding to the dance floor in pursuit of Todd. He supposes there's truth to the phrase “liquid courage,” because with just a glass of alcohol in his system, he feels unstoppable. Carpe fucking diem.

He taps on his shoulder and Todd spins around, his face lighting up at the sight of Neil. “Neil, you’re here! Oh, I-I’m so glad. I missed you!” Todd shouts, clearly very drunk.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, not feeling sorry in the slightest, “but Todd… will you dance with me?”

The guy Todd was just dancing with gives him a nasty look, but doesn’t protest. “I- of course! I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask!” Todd beams, stumbling over to him.

“Well, here I am,” Neil laughs, taking in Todd’s smile.

“Y-you should try the drinks I had. They sucked b-but my anxiety, it went POOF!” He says, making an exploding gesture with his hand, swaying closer to Neil.

“I’m glad, but I’ll try it later. Come on,” he says, leading Todd gently to an open spot on the dance floor with a guiding hand on the small of his back.

Neil takes deep breaths, trying to control his nervousness. He may have learned ballroom dancing, but swing dancing is a foreign concept to him. He’s going to embarrass himself and Todd will laugh at him. He darts his eyes around, trying to see how the other couples are dancing. As he’s about to begin his attempt, Todd takes hold of his arms, leaning in close.

“Don’t worry,” Todd says, “I-I think I have the hang of it. Follow my lead.”

Neil gasps as Todd pulls him around, bouncing on his heels a bit unevenly. Neil copies his movements, trying to let his body feel the music. The pair are off beat to the music, but Neil doesn’t care. They could be tap dancing to an opera ballad and he would be over the moon, just happy to be dancing with Todd, holding his hand and moving around the space together.

At first, Neil fumbles a bit, tripping over his feet a few times and moving his limbs in awkward motions, but eventually, he starts getting into the groove. Todd still misses a few steps every so often, but he laughs it off and warmth spreads through Neil’s chest at the sound. He laughs breathlessly, boldly deciding to pick Todd up by his hips and swinging him around his body. Todd lets out a surprised gasp, giggling as Neil moves him through the air, holding on for dear life. Neil keeps a firm hand on his waist and places him back on his feet carefully. Once Todd finds his balance, he haphazardly reaches out for Neil’s hand again, losing his grip a couple times, and twirls him around, pulling him into his chest and spinning him back out again. Neil’s heart is soaring, and he can’t hear anything besides the music ringing in his ears and Todd’s unrestrained laughter.

They dance song after song, and Neil loses track of how long they’ve been there, moving under the flashing lights and through the bodies of the crowd, throwing one another into the air. Eventually, Todd leans close to his ear, clutching his shoulder to keep balance. “‘ve gotta go to the bathroom,” he mumbles, his words slurred and breathy.

“Oh, ok! Want me to come with…?”

Todd shakes his head smiling, placing his hand on Neil’s chest. “No, no, ‘m alright. I’ll be… right back,” he slurs.

“Alright, I’ll be at the bar. I’m gonna get another drink,” Neil says.

Todd nods, staring at him for a moment before stalking off the dance floor towards the bathroom. Neil breathes out, trying to settle his nerves down. Adrenaline is coursing through his body, and his heart is thumping out of his chest. Dancing with Todd is exhilarating, and Neil could do it for the rest of his life—even as an old man in a wheelchair.

He walks off, ready to drown himself in liquor until he can gather enough courage to tell Todd how he really feels. But he’s quickly intercepted by Charlie who jumps in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Having a good time?” He asks smugly.

“Yes!” Neil shouts. “I feel… I feel so alive!”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Charlie cheers. “Next thing you know you’ll be getting at it like bunnies in the bathroom stall,” he winks.

Neil tries not to choke on air as he stares at Charlie, his eyes wide. “Charlie, stop! But it doesn’t matter, Todd was dancing with someone earlier. I don’t think he… he can’t.”

Charlie rolls his eyes, letting out an overly exasperated sigh as if Neil is out of his mind (which he isn’t). “Oh sit on it Neil, did you miss the way he looked at you? He looks like a lovesick puppy.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Neil mutters.

“Not now no, if anything I’m understating it. Go over there and swap some spit with him before I do it myself.”

“Charlie! It’s- you don’t understand. He’s my best friend, besides you of course. We… it’s not like that,” Neil stresses.

Charlie doesn’t look the least bit swayed by his words, giving him a wry look. “Neil, Todd only wants to dance with you. The only reason he was with that chump was because I made him. I know how possessive you can get.”

“Nuwanda…”

“Hey, I needed something to push him onto the dance floor, loosen up a bit, you’re welcome. Later, lover boy!” Charlie hurries off into the crowd, and Neil sighs. Of course Charlie would meddle like that.

Neil heads to the bar, already plotting Charlie’s murder when he spots Cameron leaning against the counter talking to a young, gorgeous blonde woman.

“Hey Cameron! Who’s this?” He asks as he approaches them, clapping his shoulder and turning to the woman with a smile.

“Neil! This is Caroline, she goes to Ridgewood,” Cameron says. He looks happier than Neil has ever seen him.

“Neil, nice to meet you! Cameron’s such a charmer isn’t he? I could just drown in those freckles,” she says dreamily, kissing his cheek.

Neil refrains from laughing as Cameron’s face turns beat red, more fiery than his hair. “I’m glad you’re having a good time!”

“The best! Thanks for inviting me, I know Charlie didn’t really want to,” he says.

“Oh, it’s nothing, you know how Charlie can be, he doesn’t really mean it,” Neil says with a nervous laugh, feeling guilty at how transparent Charlie’s disdain has been. He doesn’t think Cameron deserves it.

“If you say so, but you’re cool, Neil. So thanks,” Cameron says gratefully.

Neil gives a quick nod, feeling a bit embarrassed at the praise. “Course, don’t mention it. Anyway, Caroline, it was lovely to meet you, but I’ve gotta get a drink before my… friend returns from the bathroom.”

“Ooh, Todd?” Cameron ribs, elbowing him and raising his eyebrows with a smirk.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers. Neil turns to the bar man walking in their direction as a distraction from this topic. “Excuse me, can I have—“

“OH!” Cameron lights up with a thought, cutting him off. “Get a pina colada, they’re really good!”

“You might also like a dirty martini!” Caroline chimes in, winking at him.

Neil blinks and looks back at the waiter who’s waiting patiently. “I’ll take both,” he says. The bartender nods and promptly grabs a glass and a vodka bottle.

Not even a moment later, Cameron and Caroline start making out passionately next to him. Neil turns away awkwardly, hoping that Todd comes back from the bathroom soon. He looks at the dance floor and spots Knox and Chris together, laughing as Knox spins her in the air. Off to the side, he notices Meeks and Pitts dancing to the music at their own speed, away from the throng. Charlie, however, is nowhere to be seen, which is never a good thing.

After what feels like an eternity, the bartender slides his drinks across the bar, and Neil hands him a few dollar bills. “Keep the change,” he says quickly and turns away from the bar, desperate to get away from their slobbering and moaning. As soon as he takes a step, he crashes into someone, once again spilling the drinks he was just holding. He refrains from cursing, almost choking on air when he recognizes the victim of his clumsiness as G’s boyfriend.

“Oh, hey, you alright bud?” He asks, his voice deep and warm. He’s tall with curly, brown hair gelled back, and his smile is friendly, his green eyes soft and benevolent. The drinks drip down his cream colored suit, the large stains prominent.

Neil lets out a long breath and closes his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I’m not having the best luck with carrying drinks tonight.”

“No it’s alright, now my boyfriend and I can have matching, stained shirts,” he says with a hearty laugh. Normally, Neil would feel like he’s being made fun of, but from his sincere expression, it comes off lighthearted.

“Yeah, that was me…”

His eyes widen in recognition. “Oh! He mentioned you. Neil, right? Potentially an Armstrong?”

“Yes, I’m Neil, but no, unfortunately not related,” he says with an embarrassed laugh.

“Damn, that’s too bad. I’m Andrew McDorman,” he says, holding out his hand. Neil grips it, Andrew’s handshake solid and firm. “Giovanni told me you act!”

“Well… I’d like to, yes. But, my father wants me to become a doctor,” he says, pausing as a thought hits him. “And he told me he goes by G.”

He laughs. “Yeah of course he did. He’s been trying to sound younger now, but I refuse to call him that. He’ll always be my Giovanni, even if I always butcher the pronunciation, according to him,” he says with a sappy expression. Neil can tell they both truly love each other, and it makes him ache to have this with Todd, speaking of one another fondly, others sensing how close the two of them are.

“And about your father,” he adds, going back to the original topic, “mine wanted me to become a dentist. It’s not easy, I know. You feel like you’re stuck, that there’s nowhere to go. But trust me, Neil, there is.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you were able to pursue your dreams, but I’m not sure if I can…”

Andrew sighs with a smile. “Okay, you got me”eks planning that” an idea has dawned on him. “Tell you what, you wanna follow your own path, get away from your shitty father? Our door is always open, alright? I know, I know, stranger danger, but the offer is there. Actors gotta support each other, and I wanna be able to help out someone who’s in the same situation I was,” he says earnestly, the unspoken homosexuals falling between them.

Neil stands there completely speechless, his mind whirling in a million directions. This sounds too good to be true, because there’s no way he could escape his father’s grasp. He’d track him down, make him come home and ensure he makes it to medical school. But… what if…?

“No pressure kid. Here, let me replace those drinks. On me,” he offers kindly before Neil is able to respond. He’s left with his mouth hanging open as the man passes him, walking up to the bar to order.

“Neil!”

Neil turns to see Todd walking towards him, and his distress melts away as his eyes lay on Todd. His hair is slightly disarrayed, a few hairs drooping down his forehead, his cheeks still red from the dancing. He’s absolutely perfect. “There you are,” he says breathlessly.

“Hey, there was a guy in there who said I looked like uhh Nikola Tesla,” he giggles.

“Huh, not a bad guy to be compared to I guess,” Neil says, amused.

“Here we are!” Andrew says, holding out the drinks.

“Oh! Pina colada, I had one earlier and it was great!” Todd shouts gleefully, taking the glass and sucking the drink down, practically inhaling it.

“Ah, is this your boyfriend?” Andrew asks, directing the question to Neil, handing him his martini.

“N-no I wish,” Todd answers, swallowing his drink before returning to it promptly, the glass already halfway empty.

“I- he’s had a lot to drink…” Neil says, taking a big gulp of his drink.

Andrew gives him a knowing look. “Don’t fret, I’ve been there,” he says quietly so only Neil can hear him. “Alright cool cats, I gotta scoot, have fun and stay safe!” Andrew says to the pair, giving them both a wide grin before walking off.

As Neil turns to Todd, getting the nerve to ask him to dance again, a voice booms through the room.

“All the lovers to the dance floor! For this next song, we’re going to slow things down a bit. This is a special request from a man who goes by the name Nuwanda, and this is dedicated to Neil and Todd,” the singer announces.

Neil stares at the stage, noticing Charlie standing nearby with a shiteating grin. Charlie catches his eye and winks. Bastard.

“Um, Neil?” Todd asks, his voice cracking.

Neil turns to him and stops breathing at the look on Todd’s face. His eyes are wide, appearing anxious but hopeful, like he’s placing his heart in the palm of Neil’s hand for safe keeping. Neil hopes to God it doesn’t slip from his grasp.

“Yes?” He says, almost in a whisper.

Todd slowly reaches his hand out, palm up. “W-will you dance with me?”

A smile grows on his face. “Always.” Neil accepts his hand, placing his glass down on the table beside him, and allows Todd to walk him to the dance floor. He can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or his nerves, but Neil can’t feel the floor beneath his feet as he moves through the crowd, almost like he’s floating.

When I fall in love it will be forever

Todd positions them both, placing a gentle hand on Neil’s back. His face heats up inadvertently at the touch, his back tingling at the sensation. Todd looks at him, his eyes steady. “I’ll lead,” he says.

Or I'll never fall in love

Neil smiles in response, and it doesn’t wane even the slightest as Todd stamps right on his toes. Neil breaks out in a laugh, resting his forehead on Todd’s shoulder. Todd doesn’t move or make a sound, so Neil pulls back and gives him a reassuring smile. “It’s ok,” he says softly.

In a restless world like this is

Todd looks down at his feet self-consciously and Neil tilts his head back up with a finger under his chin. “Don’t worry about it, really.”

Love is ended before it's begun

Todd takes a hesitant step, breathing out as he manages to avoid Neil’s foot. Slowly, he takes another, and another, and Neil follows, feeling gratified that Todd is so dedicated to this.

And too many moonlight kisses

Neil revels in the feel of Todd’s hand in his own, his fingers wrapped around it firmly as they step around. Until this moment, Neil hasn’t realized how desperately he needs Todd in his life. How he wants to wake up beside him in the morning, make him breakfast in bed, go on walks with him through a park full of birds and laughing children, listen to him read poetry as they sit by a toasty fire. These images flood his mind, and he’s overwhelmed by how much he craves for this to become reality.

Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

Neil gazes into those soft, blue eyes, never wanting to escape their grasp ever again. As they stare at one another, drowning in each other, their movements slow. Neil is too distracted by the sight to acknowledge it. His body is moving on his own accord, leaning in to take in his face, the scent of strong cologne he assumes Charlie sprayed all over him.

When I give my heart it will be completely

“Todd—”

In a blink, Todd grabs both sides of his face and in a singular movement he crashes their lips together, cutting him off with a bruising kiss. Neil doesn’t react at first, completely stunned by the feel of Todd’s lips. He quickly comes back to himself, sliding his hands behind Todd’s neck, cradling it as he moves his lips, taking him in. Todd places a hand on his cheek, which sends a shiver down his neck. After a moment, they slow, and Neil gradually pulls back to look at him, aware that he’s now plunged in the water, completely head over heels for this boy.

Or I'll never give my heart

“Todd,” he breathes.

A flash of worry crosses Todd’s eyes. “Y-yeah?”

Neil stares at him before speaking. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“O-oh sorry you can—”

“Todd,” he laughs fondly.

And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too

Before Todd starts to ramble, Neil shuts him up with another kiss, slotting his lips between his with a hmph. This one is softer, more tender than the last, yet just as remarkable. He pours out every emotion he can into the kiss, wanting Todd to understand how he loves every inch, every quirk, every fiber of his being.

Is when I'll fall in love with you

As the last note rings through the room, Neil hears a sudden whoop. He turns, watching in horror as Charlie barrels towards them in glee. “Fucking finally you nimrods!” He shouts, giving Neil a quick noogie. “I thought I was gonna have to smash your faces together myself.”

Neil can’t hold back a grin as he rolls his eyes. “Get out of here, you’re kind of ruining the moment, you know,” he teases.

“That was the most romantic kiss I’ve ever seen!” Charlie exclaims, completely missing the hint, or purposefully ignoring it. “Knox wishes he could be on that level.”

“Charlie, I heard that!” Knox calls, pacing over to them.

“That’s my queue to leave, see you!” Charlie says, dashing away as Knox chases after him.

Neil laughs and looks back at Todd who’s smiling dazedly at him. He swipes his thumb across Todd’s cheek, and leans in for a quick kiss. “Sorry, I just can’t help it now.”

Todd blinks. “D-don’t apologize for that. Ever,” he breathes.

“Okay,” Neil says, recapturing his lips in a searing kiss. He doesn’t care that they’re surrounded by a bunch of strangers, any care in the world is lost among the feel of Todd’s lips between his own. After a moment, Todd pulls back, his eyes taking in every feature of Neil’s face.

“What is it?” Neil asks, smiling. He hears the lively music pick up again, everyone dancing around them, but he doesn’t move.

“I- nothing I… just never thought you’d…”

“I thought the same about you,” Neil admits.

“But.. how?” He asks, astonished. “Y-you’re… you’re literally perfect, Neil.”

Neil shakes his head. “No, I’m far from it. But Todd, you’re incredible. You’re better than any dream I could ever fathom, you’re single handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You always listen when I rattle nonsense to you as if every word I say is meaningful, you’re there for me on my low days, ready with an open ear and a shoulder to lay on, you write the most outstanding poetry known to man. How could I not be completely in love with you?”

Todd gapes at him, disbelieving. “You… you love me?”

Neil laughs. “Of course, dummy,” he says affectionately.

“I- I do too. Love you. I… I love you,” Todd says.

An overwhelming sense of joy floods through him, and without thinking, Neil wraps his arms around Todd’s waist and picks him up, spinning him around as he shouts in elation. Soon, Neil sets him back down and brings him into a tight embrace, nuzzling into his neck. Todd returns it, sliding his arms around his back, holding him close.

Suddenly, someone bumps into Todd’s back as they dance, shouting a quick apology as they pass, and it seems to send them both back into reality. They pull back and glance around, watching as everyone is jiving to the upbeat music. Neil looks back at Todd who returns his gaze and they break out into a fit of laughter, making their way over to a table.

They collapse into some seats, breathing heavily. Neil is relieved to have a break; he’s starting to come back down from his rush of energy, and his eyelids are getting heavy.

“Neil,” Todd says, shaking his shoulder lightly.

He lifts his head and looks at him questioningly.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, wait until we get in the car.”

Neil makes a noise of complaint. “I’m tired. Be my pillow, Todd?” He asks, leaning his head over onto Todd’s shoulder.

Todd sighs defeatedly, raising a hand to card through Neil’s hair. They stay like that for a few minutes, relaxed and at ease, until Charlie approaches their table.

“Seems it's a general consensus that it’s time to go,” Charlie says, plopping into the seat across from them and taking a swig from his drink. “The others are starting to get tired too. They wanna grab a bite upstairs before Keating comes. What do you say?”

Neil lifts his head, sitting up in his chair. “Sure, Todd?” He nods in agreement.

“Alright, perfect. I’ll go grab the others, be back in a flash,” he says, darting away.

“Tell Charlie to wait up, I got to say bye to some people first.”

Todd’s eyebrows raise in remembrance. “Oh, that man who gave us the drinks?”

“Yeah, and his boyfriend.”

“O-okay I’ll tell him,” Todd says.

Neil leans over and kisses his cheek before walking off in search of G and Andrew. He goes toward the bar first and doesn’t see them, so he looks through the crowd of the dance floor. After a few seconds, he feels a hand clap his shoulder. Neil whips around.

“Hey kid! How you doing? I saw you and that boy earlier, I’m proud of you,” G says. “And you’ve got one hell of a friend to request a song for you two like that.”

“Yeah, that was more romantic than our first kiss,” Andrew adds, sliding an arm behind G’s back. “You’re gonna have to step up your game.”

“Hey, don't you forget my proposal, I spent weeks planning that!”

Andrew sighs with a smile. “Okay, you got me.”

G gives him a quick peck before returning his attention to Neil.

“I’m- we’re great. I’m… really happy,” Neil says, beaming. “And yeah, Charlie is not one to be subtle about anything.”

The couple laugh. “Well, I’m glad it worked out,” G says sincerely.

As Neil nods in thanks, Andrew gasps in realization. “Give me your hand,” he requests.

Neil complies, pulling back his sleeve. Andrew pulls a pen out of his pocket and writes on the back of his hand. Once he’s done he releases his arm and caps the pen. “In case of anything, don’t hesitate to call us. If things don’t bode well with your father, we’ll be here for you, okay? Any hour of any day. I never really sleep anyway,” Andrew says with a crooked smile.

Neil looks down at the phone number written on his hand, and holds in the tears welling up in his eyes. “Thank you,” he croaks, keeping his eyes down and wiping them surreptitiously.

“Any time,” G says, a smile in his voice.

Finally he looks up at them both, feeling fiercely grateful for them—despite the unideal introduction of Neil ruining their clothes.

“My friends and I are heading up to the diner before we leave. But it was great to meet you both. Sorry again for spilling the drinks on you. Both of you,” he says, wincing as he peers at their stained outfits.

“Oh, don’t even stress it. It’s a good thing you did now, isn’t it?”

Neil laughs. “I suppose it is.”

There’s a beat of silence between them before they bid each other good night, Neil returning to his table. Todd looks up at him as he approaches. “They’re all waiting by the door. Ready?” Todd asks, standing from his seat.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something first,” Neil says, his heart pounding out of his chest.

Todd blinks. “Okay,” he says, anxiety creeping into his features. Neil reaches out and strokes his cheek in reassurance.

“I just wanted to know… now that we’ve… you know, told each other how we feel… where are we?”

Todd’s eyes widen in understanding. “Um, I mean what can two guys be to each other?” He asks.

“Boyfriends?” Neil tries, unable to breath.

Todd’s face lights up, and it sends a flood of relief over Neil. “Uh, Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Todd nods, beaming, and Neil can’t resist leaning over to give his nose a quick peck. He never thought this would ever be possible, and yet here he is, able to call Todd his boyfriend. With Todd by his side, he’s willing to take anything his father tries to throw at him.

Neil slots their fingers together and the pair walk over to the other poets who are standing by the door. Upon seeing them, Charlie grins. “The new lovely couple has arrived! Let’s go!”

The boys make their way up to the diner and slide into a booth, ready for a late dinner before Mr. Keating arrives to pick them up. Todd seats himself beside Neil, and he wraps an arm around his shoulder, kissing Todd’s forehead.

“Alright, as happy as I am that you two finally got your act together, please don’t be necking each other and being all lovey dovey in front of me. I don’t need it getting in my food,” Charlie says.

“No promises,” Todd says.

Neil laughs breathlessly, at Todd’s bold comment and the way Charlie gapes, shellshocked. “Yeah, don’t be a hypocrite. If you had someone you’d be slobbering all over them any second you could.”

“I guess you’re not wrong there, but it makes me wish I did.” Charlie winks. Neil and Todd grimace, and at that the subject is dropped.

“So Cameron, who was that girl I saw you all cozy with?” Meeks asks, his eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Cameron was with a girl?” Charlie asks, nonplused. “Did someone give you drugs, Meeks? You might have been hallucinating.”

“No, I saw. They were locking lips,” Neil adds.

“No way!” Charlie calls, his eyes blown wide.

Cameron blushes, staring down at the table, “Yeah, I did. I saw her at the bar and we started talking. She’s… great.”

Knox leans over and high fives him with a proud smile as Charlie chokes on air. Once he recovers, he shakes his head and huffs a laugh. “Well… atta boy Cameron!” Charlie hollers, smacking his back.

Cameron looks at him for a moment before smiling back. “Thanks, Charlie.”

Soon, the food arrives and after much more rowdy laughter and chatter, the boys pile back into Keating’s car.

“Enjoy yourselves boys?”

The boys all agree and over the rest, Charlie shouts, “Hell yeah!”

“Thank you for your exuberance, Mr. Dalton,” Keating deadpans, chuckling.

“Enjoy your date, Captain?” Pitts asks.

“Yes, thank you,” he smiles.

“What’d you do? Spend any cozy alone time together,” Charlie asks, grinning mischievously.

“If you’re insinuating what I think you are, then I am not at liberty to discuss that with my students. However, we went for a nice dinner and afterwards we walked along a nearby lake. They’re quite a lovely spot to bring your significant other, actually,” he says, and Neil catches his eyes in the rear view mirror. Neil’s face flushes and he looks away, unable to hold back a smile.

Multiple different conversations among the other boys pick up after that, but Neil stays quiet, taking time to enjoy the moment. A few minutes later, when Todd lays his head on his shoulder as he dozes to sleep and Charlie gives him a smug look, Neil feels truly grateful for his friends, Keating, and Todd. He looks down at the number scrawled on his hand and realizes that he’s no longer dreading the future. His future. It won’t be easy, but with Todd by his side, Neil can do anything. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

[xenowingfield]

linguistics headcanons

BECAUSE THE CANON WONT GIVE US ANYTHING ABOUT LINGUISTICS

so. in the anime, when they flashback to when byakua and co were starting their little tribe, byakuya remarks that 'its difficult to write all these tales in english'--which means that lillian doesnt speak japanese, or at least not well enough to communicate--so theyve been speaking in english. logically, then, the language that was passed down to the kids and the rest of the generations would be english--not japanese. therefore, the ishigami tribe doesnt speak japanese, they speak english with sprinkles of japanese words, AND their language has undoubtedly evolved over time from the modern english we know.

its also completely logical for a decent chunk of the main cast to be able to speak english well enough to communicate (it not being modern english aside).

senku wants to be an astronaut, english is one of the languages you need to learn in order to do so, theres no way he doesnt have a decent grasp on english. i could very much see him studying english in his off time alongside whatever school is teaching him.

we just flat out know gen is conversational in english (he has a conversation w/ ukyo in english), and i figure thats from his job.

ukyo is the same, we know he speaks english, and id wager hes the best at english in the whole crew.

ryusui probably speaks english, hes hella rich, theres no way they wouldnt teach him english. hes probably not the best at it, but gets by ok with slang.

francois would, for basically the same reasons as ryusui. high class, high class people usually know a few languages, and its possible japanese isnt even their native language.

so sure, they can speak english, but theyre speaking modern english. 3,700 years is a long ass time, plenty long enough for the language to change. its not too dissimilar from the timeframe of shakespearean english and modern english. shakespearean english is VERY far off from what you or i speak, and is gradually getting more and more incomprehensible to modern english speakers. if someone came up to you on the street and started speaking shakespearean english, youd be confused, but vaugely understanding, right? thats about the gap that the ishigami people and revived people would have in their english language. the 100 tales are excluded from this, just because im under the assumption that they have been passed down word for word, so stuff like 'speaker' wouldnt get corrupted beyond maybe some pronunciation differences.

I JUST WANT SOME FUN COMMUNICATION SCENES DAMN IT