#oh to be this literary in insults

[ao3dorian-gay]

cannot stop thinking about this tweet 😭

[cryingatships]

"It can skip worldbuilding"

??????

def it can but is this person unaware that there exists a type fic that hinges on worldbuilding??

If they wanna critique the skill of writers, they can just critique that, no need to drag fics writing style into the stage. Fics are written for a different purpose, and if someone tries or actually manages to turn their fic into published book, that's on them.

No need to say that fics in general often skip worldbuilding. Like???

this comment on that vulture article about the "fanfic-to-romance novel pipeline" is very interesting and not something i've seen articulated...much to think about...

[nohva]

Zoro drunkenly (or while tipsy) confesses his love to Sanji one night but, in the same breath, tells him it’s okay—he knows Sanji is straight and is fine with them remaining "only" crewmates, he just had to get these feelings out of his system. And Sanji is overwhelmed because ???? Where is this even coming from? Why is the mosshead suddenly saying these things? This isn’t how their relationship is supposed to work. They don’t do the whole talking thing, especially not about serious topics?? When they have emotions to work through they fight each other, maybe throw in an insult or two. But this? This is unfamiliar territory for Sanji, so he’s really not sure how to react, much less respond.

So he doesn’t; he just stares at Zoro, his mouth opening and closing. Zoro takes that as his sign, gets up from the stairs he’d been sitting on, and leaves for the sleeping quarters. It is quite late, after all.

The next morning while preparing breakfast Sanji is oh so tense. He’s still mostly confused because there’s just no way the green-haired brute could harbor any such feelings toward another human being—least of all him—could he? And what if this does change things? Zoro said it wouldn’t, but who's to say?

And Zoro acts like nothing ever happened, he's just the same old moss ball that drinks too much Sake and takes way too many naps during the day and Sanji is so confused and he's getting angry now, because how can he act so nonchalant while the cook is over here losing his god damn mind over this? Does Zoro maybe not remember confessing? Had he been that drunk?

And obviously Zoro DOES remember, and he's NOT calm at all. He's freaking out internally every time he and Sanji are in the same room, but he'd rather lose his remaining eye than have anyone notice. So he does his best to play it cool. And yeah, maybe he takes a nap or two more than usual, and maybe he spends even more time working out in the crow's nest than is strictly necessary, but that is nobody’s business but his own, isn’t it?

Bla bla bla cue Sanji questioning the universe and his existence, freaking out over his sexuality, sloooowly coming to terms with it and then freaking out again about telling Zoro and what it means for the crew dynamic etc etc.

Also Robin being somewhere in the background of the story, smiling to herself, sipping on her tea, because of course she knows something is up, and she has a pretty good idea of what it is about, even if she doesn’t know the whole story, because she knows pretty much everything that’s going on on the sunny, cause she’s the responsible older sister™️.

————————————————————-

I have never attempted to write anything before, not even a rough draft like this, but Zosan has been living in my head rent free for the past few months now, and once the idea for a possible plot popped up in my mind I absolutely needed to note it down. Oh well, I hope I am not embarrassing myself too much by posting this.

Anyways, this is the most I can offer due to a lack of actual literary skills, but I still hope you enjoyed!

The obligatory English isn’t my first language speech: please excuse any spelling and grammar mistakes, I tried my best, I swear!

[longing-for-the-past-times]

Their reaction to seeing you reading

Task Force 141 x Reader headcanons

notes: I don't know if this was done before, but once I got the idea, I couldn't get it out of my head before writing it down. This is my first time writing headcanons, I hope I did the characters justice :). Let me know what you think about it!

find it on a03 masterlist

Captain 'John' Price

He is headed towards the lounging area after staying overtime because of due paperwork. It is already dark outside and, when he sees the lights on, he thinks someone just forgot them that way.

You may understand his surprised reaction when he sees you sitting cross-legged on the couch, a book in your hands.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack, kid!”

You give him a sheepish smile and hide your face behind the book, staying true to the principle: out of mind, out of sight. You didn’t mean to stay long - you just wanted to finish the chapter. But it ended in a cliffhanger so you had to at least begin the next chapter and the vicious cycle went on.

It doesn’t take him long to realise that you are, in fact, holding a book. And he can’t hide his grin when he figures you must have lost track of time because of it.

“Didn’t take you for a reader, kid!”, he raises an eyebrow as he joins you on the couch, his eyes drifting to the cover. “And certainly did not know you read classics!”

“Always full of surprises, Captain!”, you smile at him as you look around, searching for something. A triumphant smile graces your lips when you find the piece of crumpled paper, and you proceed to put it on the page you remained at, before closing the book.

Definitely asks you about the book you’re reading and what else you’ve read, proceeding to compare your literary preferences

He may not read as much as he did when he was younger, but he can and will boast with the filled bookshelves he has at home

Encourages your reading habits when you are at the base and brings you reading snacks when you decide to spend your evenings in the base’s lounging room, curled up with whatever book you’re reading at the moment

Might sometimes join you with a book of his own. Nobody dares to say anything about the two operators who occasionally spend their lunch break with their noses stuck in a book.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley

Never been much of a reader as he simply did not have the time, or the available resources

So at first, he does not understand why you are sobbing by yourself in the kitchen, frantically highlighting something with a neon marker

Who did that to you? Did he need to hunt down someone?

It was when he got closer that he realised you were actually reading something and the content must have made you upset

No problem, he’ll track the writer down and-

"Oh, Ghost, didn’t see you there!", you looked up at him, a shy smile on your face.

He is at a loss for words and ends up nodding towards the open book: “Is it any good?”

“Well, I think it would be an insult to say Shakespeare is ‘just good’, don’t you think?”

All he’s thinking of are those literature classes he should have paid more attention to.

He quickly steers the conversation in another direction, asking you about training and whatnot. Something blooms in his chest when he sees you setting the book away in an instant, a warm smile gracing your features as you turn your attention towards him.

He spends the following evening researching Shakespeare’s works as much as he can. He’d caught a glimpse of the book you’d been reading, Hamlet, and he ends up ordering an annotated copy.

It takes him an entire week to get through it, but the look on your face when he asks you about the book is priceless.

You spend the entire afternoon talking about it (you talk, he mostly listens), and he was surprised he didn’t notice your reading habits earlier. When you talked about books, you could light up the room with your enthusiasm and passion.

Is the kind of man who would build you a bookshelf from scratch

“Your books wouldn’t fit in a standard bookshelf anyway. And I can paint the wood to match the tone of your walls.”

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish

The type of man that says he’ll wait for the movie to come out

And if there is a book adaptation, he'll definitely make you watch it with him to prove his point

You spend the next hours pointing out why the book was better than the movie, while he tries to convince you otherwise

Constantly teases you about your reading habits, but secretly, he loves to watch you read. The array of emotional states you seem to go through when reading fascinates him.

"Maybe we should start calling you Belle from now on, bonnie. You know, the Belle from Beauty and the Beast - the one who's always with her nose stuck in a book?"

One day a recruit decides to prank you and hides your current read in the men's showers.

Soap takes note of your distracted state, but doesn't push it. He knows you'll come to him when it feels right.

Until he stumbles upon what was left of your book when preparing to take a shower. He recognizes it only by the vibrant colour of the cover as the pages are wrinkled and illegible, due to the water exposure.

It does not take him long to find the culprit. He was too busy boasting about his "achievement" to his team-mates, in the locker room.

Soap makes sure he regrets his actions by assigning him to latrine duty for the following month.

He also makes it his personal mission to buy you another copy of the book. The only problem is that he does not remember the title. Or the author. Or the plot.

"It has this orange cover, with two people on it! And there's white text on it too!"

Safe to say, the librarian is unimpressed by his comprehensive description.

So he has to spend an entire night scrolling through an online library page to find it.

But it's all worth it in the end. He'll never forget the shocked expression on your face when he handed you the hastily wrapped book. Or the wide smile that spreads across your face, followed by a tight and warm hug.

He might buy you more books in the future, just to have you grin at him like that.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Like Ghost, he didn't particularly care for reading. It was not that he didn't like it, he just had other priorities

He wasn't even aware of your reading habits until you were both stuck in a safe house, waiting to be evacuated.

You were leaning against the wall, next to him, when you pulled a book out of your pocket.

He had to do a double take- why did you have a leatherbound book in your pocket? Were you carrying it throughout the entire mission? What if you got shot - was the leather thick enough to stop the bullet if it got past your tac vest?

"Gaz, you're staring."

"Just took me by surprise, love."

You playfully rolled your eyes at the endearment, your hand leafing through the pages.

He knew you could feel him watching you, but he couldn't help himself. He felt like he just unlocked a new part of your personality.

"Is it any good?"

"Do you want to read it?"

"I wouldn't mind you reading to me..."

Once again, you rolled your eyes in fake annoyance but complied with his request and went back to the beginning of the chapter.

The story was quite gripping, something about a rich bachelor who must be in search of a wife. Kyle tried to focus on the story, but he was more intent on enjoying your calm and soothing voice.

He unintentionally fell asleep and you did not realise until you felt the weight of his body leaning against your shoulder.

As retaliation, you forced him to join you on a trip to the library. He did not bother to hide the fact that he did not see it as a punishment, not when he knew it would make you happy.

He let you drag across the entire fiction section and patiently listened to you describing all the books you've read. He also took a lot of mental notes on the books you intended to read in the future- if only the covers did not look so similar!

Eventually discovers he's more of an audiobook person.

So he would listen to the novel you were currently reading, excited to meet with you at the end of the day and discuss it with you.

[demonsword586]

Horn grinding headcanons! Tartaros

Mammon

-will try to convince you to use gold as lube

-like Sitri he has the ~ shape,just a bit longer and curlier.That one horn could be used in many diffrent ways. Up and down,left ahnd right on the curve. Unfortunatelly no penetration

-the cut off horn...hmm...might be a bit unusable,mostly because of it's smoothness. Maybe if you lubricate it nicely it would work. That or humping the rdges of the cut

-he's happy as long as he can hold your butt

-actually get him in a position where his face can be near your cheeks while you grind on his horn and you will have one hell of a time

Bimet

-How much did you pay him?

-I'm sorry but he won't agree until you either pay him or get Mammon to order him to it

-his horns have a slight rised up ~ shape which is perfect for grinding your hips against the tip and lowering them to the base

-will give very whimpery insults and might hump his cock against your legs (given the option)

Valefor

-oh boy...this looks like a knife

-so the horn...will need to be taken gently. I honestly don't know if it's even possible to rub against it....at least not fast. Maybe if you're slow...to be honest,the safest option would be penetration...

-he would be very gentle and sweet all the way. Ask if you're alright,slowly push it in and have a slow and steady pace

-since his horn is...literary in his face,he might tease you with his tongue. He'll use his mouth and fingers to ease you on his horn.

-he would definetlly enjoy seeing your pretty face when you cum

Eligos

-now this man is in a dilemma

-on one hand he wants to look cute for you while you do this. On the other he doesn't want to get his ribbons to get ruined.

-in the end he takes them off

-his horns...ngl can only be used for penetration,maybe light teasing

-he'll enjoy it either way. To him it feels like something between getting his head patted and having sex with you

-will request to have his head squezzed between your thighs

-again be careful with the tips,spikes can hurt

[bethanydelleman]

“Oh, you like Jane Austen? You should read Jane Eyre!”

Please, people. Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë are indeed both women and they both inhabited the same wet, European island (though they only overlapped for a year when Charlotte was a baby), but they have nothing to do with each other.

Jane Austen wrote satirical comedies of manners, praised for their realism.

Charlotte Brontë wrote dramatic gothic fiction, with miraculous supernatural communication methods.

If you feel that you must recommend a Brontë, the proper Brontë is Anne.

If you feel you must recommend a woman, the proper woman is Elizabeth Gaskell (start with Wives and Daughters) or George Eliot.

If you must recommend a English Wet European Island person, the proper person is Oscar Wilde (specifically his four drawing room plays).

Charlotte Brontë wrote negative reviews of Jane Austen and in uncanny preparation for such an insult, Jane Austen mocked the concept of Attic Wives 13 years before Charlotte was even born.

(A lot of people do like both Jane Eyre and Jane Austen, but something always has felt kind of inherently sexist about grouping them together since they write completely different genres and in different time periods. Like why not group Wilde and Austen, or Dickens and Brontë? George Eliot is noted for realism, which seems like a much more sensible match to Austen than Brontë. Anyway, I’m done my little rant.)

Carry on and/or suggest me which literary people we should actually be matching up in our heads.

Edit: forgot Oscar Wilde was Irish!

[mundivagantsoul]

✩ Bookshopist Moonboys✩

Part 1: Nerds, Dead Trees and Dust

Moon Knight System x Reader

A/N: Hi all! This is my first time posting my writing. I apologies for poor grammar and spelling, my only excuse is daydreaming throughout school when I was was supposed to be learning this stuff. If you have any feedback or comments please let me know, I'd love to hear from you! Hope you enjoy ♡

Warnings: mentions of violence (nature documentaries), coarse language, British lingo?

Word Count: 1K

Masterlist | Next ->

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Seated in the dim living room light with tea-steamed glasses, a certain chocolate-curled Brit scrolls aimlessly through job adverts until a particular post catches his attention

Full-time bookseller- The Old Town Bookshop

Taking a sip of his Earl Grey, Steven opens the listing, greeted with the classic rhetorical questions and enthusiasm only found in job adverts.

Love books? Are you a passionate reader who wishes to share your enthusiasm for literature with others? Come work at “The Old Town Bookshop”, where you can expand your literary knowledge and create a meaningful career with fellow book lovers!

“Living amongst books isn’t enough for you?” Marc quips from a small mirror placed deliberately on the desk's corner.

“I thought you cared about animals and the environment, and yet here you are, further supporting an industry that indoctrinates the destruction of their homes?” Jake nonchalantly adds from an adjacent mirror, oblivious to the surprised faces of his headmates.

Marc raises a brow, “Since when did you become an animal rights advocate?”

Jake shrugs, gaze subconsciously finding Viejita lazing on the lounge before returning back to Marc. “Dunno. Guess I actually pay attention when Steven puts on his nature documentaries”.

Marc mocks being insulted. “Oh I’m sorry, I just don’t find watching baby antelopes getting mauled to death entertaining”.

“Of course, you much rather maul people to death yourself”, Jake's voice mimics Marc’s, enticing a scoff from the latter.

“You’re one to talk Mr. I abuse wheelchairs and kidnap patients from psych wards and then murder them in the back of my fancy car”. 

Steven interrupts the dispute before it can get out of hand. 

“Bloody hell, Lads’ shut it! Look, if I’m being honest, I’m not gonna take animal ethics from either of you carnivores”, then adding, “And need I remind you two, you’re the reason we’re in this dire situation”.

It’s true, between Marc, Jake and Khonshu’s shenanigans, they’d managed to lose their only legal job, and unfortunately, being an ancient Egyptian deity’s ‘fist of vengeance’ doesn’t pay well.

Marc begins to grasp at any logic that means they don’t have to work amongst nerds, dead trees and dust. “Well… Jake and I aren’t avid readers, and the job description says we must be ‘passionate readers’”. 

“Well… I’d say with the number of ‘adult’ novels you read, you’d be classified as a passionate reader”. Steven states matter-of-factly, earning a snort from Jake and a finger from Marc.

“Look, capitalism exists, fish need feeding, and it’s either this, working at the laundromat on 6th, or grovelling for my old job back. You pick”.

Sharing a glance, they sigh, “Fine, we’ll work at your nerd hub”.

Triumphantly, Steven opens the application form.

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

A weathered sign inscribed with “The Old Town Bookshop” hangs atop the quaint corner store. Parallel white arches and a broad window decorate its petite structure with morning sunlight reflecting off the seemingly fresh coat of indigo, enriching the buildings' otherwise aged aesthetic.

Breathing out a puff of warm air, Steven adjusts the strap of his shoulder bag, a nervous habit he’d picked up over the years. Peering at the lit window, he opens the door. Greeted by the homely smell of paper and ink, Steven gazes around at the array of books and colours, marvelling at the unexpectedly large floor plan. 

"Like the Tardis". Marc hums from the window reflection whilst Jake observes their surroundings, habitually checking for threats.

Strolling further into the store, a warm pressure rubs itself along his calf. Peering down, Steven’s met with honey eyes and golden fur.

“¿Gatito?” Jake chirps, seemingly forgetting about surveying the area.

The cat meows in return as if replying to Jake’s comment. 

“Great, now we’ll be covered in dust and cat hair”. Marc comments, trying to remain apathetic about their adorable feline coworker.

Kneeing down, Steven scratches the tabby’s head, earning a delightful purr from their new acquaintance. Checking the collar, ‘Dorian’ is engraved on a fish-shaped name tag. 

Dorian huh? Makes sense, you’re a pretty lookin’ fella. Steven observes before returning to the task at hand. 

Following the familiar monotonous sound of a sticker gun, the Brit finds himself walking towards the counter where, surrounded by a pile of new releases, you are busy at work. The boys take in your features, entranced as the morning light caresses your face, highlighting the soft beauty that adorns your profile. Eyes roaming over your features, they notice your slight frown of concentration and inaudible movements of your mouth. 

As Steven approaches the counter, your words become interpretable.

“How are we already getting Christmas and holiday content when it hasn’t even been Halloween yet?” you grumble, condemning whoever decided it was a suitable practice. “I swear if I start hearing Mariah Carey, I’m gonna…”.

Someone clearing their throat interrupts your malicious thoughts. As your head shoots up, you notice the fidgeting man in front of the counter. Shit. How long has he been standing there?  You think, face heating up at the possibility of him witnessing your moral decadence.

“So sorry to bother you love. I’m here for my shift? I was supposed to start today… I’m Steven, by the way”.

The realisation smacks you in the face like a flying stop sign. Crap, it is already 8 o'clock? Internally criticising yourself for losing track of time, you scramble for an apology. “Right- yes, Steven, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise the time”. Sticking out your hand, you introduce yourself. 

God, your name sounds as beautiful as you look, They simultaneously think.

A warm, calloused hand engulfs your own as Steven rolls your name over his tongue. “All good love happens to the best of us”.

You smile warmly, and suddenly, the prospect of spending 9 hours a day surrounded by nerds, dead trees and dust doesn't seem too bad.

Thank you for reading ♡

Also please go check out the fabulous @viejita-n-co who created Viejita! You’ll find a bunch of fanart and pictures of the boys too ♡

[wzy3ka]

| Enemies to lovers⋆.ೃ࿔*:･|| N.RK (니키)

Pairing✧.* non idol!niki x reader

Contains✧.* swearing, drinking (for this fic reader and niki are 19)

Context: enemies to lovers ✧.*

Niki got under your skin in a way no one else could. it was like everything he did annoyed you.

Sometimes you just wish If he could shut to be a mute boy rather than been a boy bitch-

That's what you call him.

whenever you went out, there he was, literary a glue on your side-

every time he greeted you, there was some sarcastic remark, or an insult mixed with it. you couldn't stand him.

Tonight was no different than other nights.

you met your friends at the club, instantly greeting them when you walked inside.

you shot niki a glance, not bothering to say hello to him.

The sea of teenagers with imbalanced hormones was everywhere.

You could go like this all night long, feet moving to the crazy beat as they belong to the music.

You moved in your dress like your hips were made to sway, the sequins catching the disco ball light that twirls above - launching

every shade of the rainbow.

the night carried on, you and your friends had a blast, taking shots and dancing most of the night.

that was until you finally needed a break, your feet were killing you.

you stumbled over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools, ordering a drink when someone slid into the stool next to you.

you turned your head slightly to see who it was and there was the boy- bitch, also ordering a drink.

you decided to ignore and not engage in conversation with him, not really craving a headache at that moment.

"surprised you came here today."

Niki started up a conversation, something you wanted to prevent.

"fuck off niki." you shot back which only made him chuckle.

"didn't know you hated me that much, y/n.

"Gald you know that now"

"ouch, that one hurt. you could've denied it, save me the heartache?"

"aww, poor baby. i prefer honesty, sorry if you don't."

Niki stayed silent after your comment, his eyes scanning over you. it made you shift, wanting to get up and leave.

you were about to speak up about the way he was obviously looking at you until you heard someone call your name.

You turned your head towards the source of the sound- just to find your friends for a few months, flirting was something you did regularly.

you weren't sure if he liked you or if he was just extremely friendly.

"jungwon! what a nice surprise." you greeted, immediately giving him a smile.

Niki raised a brow at your immediate enthusiasm when you saw jungwon.

he would've rolled his eyes if he was sure no one would've saw him.

"it's nice to see you! you look great."

Niki wasn't sure if he cringed, gagged, or both at Jungwon’s attempt at flirting with you.

it, however, looked like you were enjoying it by the way your smile widened.

"i could say the same fo-" you didn't even get to finish your sentence when a blonde came up and wrapped her arms around jungwon.

"there you are, baby! I was looking for you." she said. baby?

"y/n, right, this is my girlfriend." jungwon introduced you. you had to stop your mouth from dropping at the word girlfriend.

he has a girlfriend.

"oh. oh! it's, uh, great to meet you. you two look adorable together." you complimented,

trying your best not to seem upset.

"don't we?" the blonde said, giving you what seemed to be a fake smile.

"and…and there's someone i want you to meet!" you made up, making jungwon’s head tilt.

"yeah, who?" he asked.

you turned around, eyes meeting Niki's. "this is my boyfriend, Niki!"

Niki stared at you, almost not catching on at first. "Oh! yeah, that's me."

he looked up towards jungwon and his girlfriend, sending them a smile. they shook hands and the blonde just seemed to be relieved.

after introductions, Jungwon was pulled away by his girlfriend which you weren't complaining about.

you felt like an idiot and now, you felt like an even bigger one for bringing him into your lie.

letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in, you chugged down the rest of your drink, cringing at the bitter taste.

when you looked back at niki, a smirk painted his lips-

"so, boyfriend huh?"

you signed while passing hand through your hair, you appeared stressed to Niki, which made himself say the next words-

"hey, you did a great job." he said while walking up to you, before he realized what he had just said- was he comforting you?

"in my defense, that was not supposed to come out."

"Eh, it's fine, pretty boy."

"pretty boy?" he raised a brow at the nickname.

"well. it's only fair that i make you flustered after you did it to me."

"go out with me."

you looked up at him in shock, almost not believing that he really said that to you.

"excuse me?" you blurted, almost giggling at how straight forward that was.

"go out with me"

"to think i thought you were such shy, adorable man-child”

"man-child?" Niki ultimately ignored the shy & adorable part because to some degree, you were correct.

"you heard me."

"you know what I heard first though? shy and adorable so i'm gonna guess that's a yes on that date."

"you sure you deserve it?" tilting your head, you crossed your arms with a slightly challenging tone.

"positive, pretty lady"

Ty for reading,I hope you enjoyed <3

[hamliet]

what do you think of hamlet and juilet as characters? what is their purpose and role in the story?

Oh boy, two of my favorites! In case my usename wasn't a tell haha. Here's something I wrote in the past.

Apparently they both have "whiney teen" reputations now? They're both not. At all.  

Juliet is a teenage girl who has grown up in a war zone and comes alive with love. She, like Romeo, chooses to focus on love when they've only known bloodshed. Like, they are brave kids, not whiney cowards. 

I've written a lot on her; she's one of my favorite characters in all of literature. She's a deliberate deconstruction of the idealized woman of the literary day, the character who changes the most in the play, and her faithfulness and loyalty are stated over and over again, including in the play's closing lines, to be her defining characteristics. That she's reduced to a flighty, insecure needs-a-man, hysterical image is textually wrong. Juliet is That Girl. 

Also, unlike every other Shakespearean tragedy, Romeo and especially Juliet die as the best versions of themselves, not as a parody of what they started out as like, say, Othello or Hamlet...

Ah, Hamlet. I love him for how tragic his arc is--to go from someone who is trying his best in horrible circumstances to still be a good person and honor those he loves to being someone who has unwittingly helped destroy everyone he loves, and become the murderer he desperately didn't want to be.

Hamlet is a college-aged kid who comes back over break to find his dad is dead and his mom married his uncle. Idk about you but I think that'd give anyone a complex. Not to mention his source of comforts all turn on him (except Horatio); two of his school friends spy on him, and his girlfriend is ordered by her dad to play it cool instead of, you know, be there for him. He wouldn't have needed a ghost to end up in a mental health crisis contemplating "to be or not to be."

Despite it all, he still wants to slow down and think. He doesn't want to do the wrong thing. Problem is he delays too long--because he does not want to be a murderer--and when he does act, it's sloppy and he murders the father of the girl he loves by mistake.  

But lest you think I'm throwing anyone under the bus, I'm not... well, besides Claudius, Polonius who is a bad dad, and Rozencrantz and Guildenstern who were bad friends. Hamlet's mom and girlfriend though? 

Gertrude's decision to marry Claudius--while Shakespeare never gets into her interior world, there are a few possibilities and they mostly looks terrible and contradictory. The Ghost accuses Gertrude of adultery before his murder thanks to the hasty elopement, but never accuses her of murder and even tells Hamlet to "leave her to Heaven." If Gertrude really was cheating, then she willingly marries someone she has to know is a murderer (unless she's beyond dumb).

Or, let's think pragmatically according to the day. If Gertrude had not married Claudius instantly (most probably she seduced him), how long do we think she and Hamlet would stay alive? Because Hamlet's existence is a threat to Claudius's reign even by Denmark's elective monarchy of the day (plus he was abroad when the murder happens). By marrying Claudius Gertrude may be literally trying to save herself and her son--only issue is, no one sees it like that, and how to explain that to her son, who's been raised in a patriarchal society? 

Ophelia doesn't have much choice, either. Women's sexuality being considered "property" of a man is very much at play as a motif in the play, and given the implications (pretty strong, I'd say) that Hamlet and Ophelia were indeed sleeping together, their hands were pretty tied. Ophelia pulling back (essentially ghosting him, heh) confuses him especially when he's at his most vulnerable, and then he hits her where she's most vulnerable: all his insults to her are sexually charged, essentially accusing her of not being a virgin, when in reality she probably isn't because of him. And that's before he kills her father by mistake. Once Hamlet murders Polonius, Ophelia also has to deal with the fact that she's probably never getting married to anyone, ever. No wonder she also goes insane.

Hamlet laments that Denmark is all corrupted at the start of the play, and the royal court of Elsinore most of all. Which it is, and unfortunately he cannot escape this corruption.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

so I just listened to Florence+the machines Cassandra and ts Cassandra one after the other and like…listen I know i don’t like ts but I’m trying to give her the benefit of the doubt and judge her music without letting my dislike cloud that judgement the worst part about that experience is that it’s genuinely an ok song. Like I write poetry(cringy poetry but it’s a good outlet and over the years I’ve learned the difference between actual poetic devices and just spitting out words that rhyme) and it sounds like something I would write?? Like not in a rude or patronising way but when I need to journal or whatever and I just write out the first thoughts I have and think its an absolute masterpiece and then a few hours later I look at it and go oh so I was delusional lol but by then the emotions have passed and I don’t feel like working on that poem anymore. That’s what her lyrics make me think of😭 like it’s an ok song but the references to her life actual ruined it for me I was trying to enjoy the song but then there’s a line about filling her cell with snakes or smth and it took me out of it immediately I was like ugh this drama again?? Really?? And without the Easter eggs the song is…boring?? Like she sings a portion in the beginning then the rest of the song is lines from that portion rearranged and sang the exact same way again?? And musically like there’s nothing?? With Florence’s Cassandra the music builds and makes you feel something for yourself whereas ts is meant to make you feel smth for her. Florence’s lyrics and melody were like a breath of fresh air after listening to ts. Florence feels like she truly has something to say and embodies that character she’s created for the song idk maybe that’s my own personal bias getting in the way tho sorry for the long ask I just wanted to get your thoughts because I really enjoy your analysis of her music it helps me feel less insane lol❤️❤️

Hello dear!

Hope you are doing well, and if you are not- I hope that you will be doing well soon.

I cannot express enough how awkward the placement of Taylor Swift's "Lore" interjections has become in her music. Sometimes I truly feel like I am listening to two different songs every time she breaks the flow of the music to add so throw-back call to old drama. It's maddening- because on one hand I know that Swift wants people to think she is a great artist- yet she cannot stop acting like a preteen with a popular gossip blog by interjecting cheap-shots at her enemies at every possible turn. It's so- bad.

I am going to explain in a different post by Swift's "confessional" style of music doesn't actually live up to the precedent standard of the confessional poets from the 1960's- just because I want to clear the air in stating the literary difference between what Swift does (writing hit pieces against people she hates) and what true artists do with their confessional poetry (think Slyvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Robert Lowell- Etc.) wherein often the poets express dislike, hatred, messiness of human experience and the like. However, it's a remarkably different tone, and effectiveness, compared to Swift's rapacious, barbed insults towards her fellows in the industry or in life.

She really just can't ever let anything go, huh? It must be terribly stressful and lonely to live like that.

To the point you mention above- on how Swift's writing is so continuously self-reflexive that it no longer elicits any empathy in the audience- so that, yes, we do only feel something "for her." She does this by design. I think you are quite clever to see the rhetorical difference here. Swift is writing for herself- for her own "woe," but other writers are capable of writing from a broader perspective- one that elicits empathy in the audience- that builds on our common humanity. More detail on what I mean here will be posted in the "Cassandra" post soon. :)

Anywho, I quite enjoyed reading your perspective on the two songs. I feel a little bit more based seeing that other people key into the innate difference between the two texts- much like I do.

I enjoy much of Florence's work- though not all of it. I do, however, respect that she, unlike Swift, actually seems to understand the Cassandra archetypal pattern. All I'm really after here- is just some artists who know how to think and create!

Swift's work is just cringy self-effacing "poetry" meant to pull sympathy and pity from people. It's actually giving me second-hand embarrassment. I think everyone at some point in life seeks pity and sympathy from others- yet most people grow out of this impulse somewhere around the teen years. Because it's just dreadfully juvenile to always being seeking pity- it's like when toddlers whine to get something they want. The proper thing to do is to tell the toddler- "Hey, use your words to tell me what you want, because I cannot understand you when you whine like that."

I wish someone would tell Taylor Swift to grow up and stop whining like a toddler who never learned how to properly express themselves.

But- I think you are right. Without the odd interjection of "lore," she wouldn't be able to write a full song. She's completely dependent on her audience's juvenile interest in gossip.

[sgiandubh]

Hitting a nerve, again

Dear @outlanderfandomfollies,

You took an extraordinary amount of time to lecture me on your blog with regard to one of my comments about the (in)famous funeral pictures. This deserves a reply and I hope you will understand it is done in good faith, although I cannot guarantee you that my answer will be devoid of irony. I am who I am, even if my opinions clearly vex you: I am sorry, but there is little I can do to accommodate you in that respect.

Fair enough, then. I took a stroll on your two blogs yesterday and I have to say I am underwhelmed. The thousands of words, the hundreds of pages, all that Taj Mahal of wisdom so liberally, relentlessly bestowed upon us, ignoramuses, was not enough to shake my beliefs. And pardon me the approximation: trying to make sense of what you wrote left such a strange aftertaste, that I did not pay enough attention to such details. Stupid me.

I have to say I was just starting to enjoy your very interesting interpretation of Jungian archetypes as applied to JAMMF. It did also remind me of Richard Campbell's Hero With A Thousand Faces, to be completely honest. I wanted more of that: a non-biased and personal interpretation of a beloved literary character. So, I am asking you in all honesty: why do your approach and your tone change, from professional to patronizing, when you deal with this side of the fandom, including me?

You present yourself as an independent blogger within the OL fandom. That, in my humble opinion, is a bias and a lie. There can be no independence in the current context of cold war, with the "truthers"' side bucketing out insults on a daily basis, with no prompting and no provocation from the shippers. You probably know as well as I do how the spiel works, via multiple spy sock accounts, anonymous submissions often sent to oneself and yes, rivers of "stupid shippers, idiot shippers". You also know and yet keep complete silence about it, that sensitive information is always exchanged in DMs and private groups, primarily out of respect for the people concerned (and also because that is none of your business, Antis).

Your very peculiar orientation is also something that ethically nags me. Independent, yet aligned. I find this fascinating, truly: it reminds me of an Eastern European tyrant's game of promoting himself for years to the West as aligned with the Soviets, yet independent from them. True story.

In the side note at the end of your long (loooooong) intervention about a mere comment expressing an opinion, you write:

I am asking you and I would appreciate a serious, well-researched answer (a girl can dream): exactly which boundaries did I (and I really mean I, Sgiandubh, not "shippers": that is very cheap rhetoric and I expected better from you) cross by simply expressing an opinion that disagreed with your POV?

For comparison purposes, an example of a very recent, supremely suave comment on one of the major Anti players' blogs. We never read any well-articulated protestations from you on those, ever: it is as if they do not exist. Heh. Talking about bias, when it's all about hiding the Antis' garbage under a skillfully woven carpet of scientific jargon:

And since you love side notes and caveats and all the critical apparatus paraphernalia, let me be very clear: I blurred the blogger's name on purpose, and not by cowardice. I blurred it because it is perfectly irrelevant, in this context and at the same time, very representative of a certain dominating vibe, in your camp, about OL's male lead. Something I believe you, as an independent (let's not forget aligned) blogger, should have no trouble taking a strong stance about.

Oh, the stench of intolerance, from the same person who wrote this, in 2016, on her blog:

Yes, yes. I know you also wrote your opinions changed with time and adventures along this long-winding, twisted road. Yet, I cannot help but thinking that a walk down this particular memory lane could bring more serenity and more clarity to your fandom endeavors.

I have no wish to attack you and I am not the insulting type, unlike some of your fellows. But I also do not need a laissez-passer sealed, stamped and delivered by you (with which authority?), in order to continue my journey. I would be very happy to settle on a non-aggression 'we agree to disagree' , keep calm and carry on common ground. At the very worst, I will simply ignore you and would be very grateful if you did the same. I simply feel I owe you absolutely nothing, including my time and attention.

Cordially yours,

Sgian-dubh, stupid shipper

[literaticat]

...and I got conned by #schmagent. learned it the hard way. Just that, they are good people and in a need to make a living. But posing as a literary agent and deceiving unsuspecting aspiring authors is unforgivable.

I missed the red flag when my work was directed to an editor and fee was quoted. After 2 months of editing work, I sent the manuscript to this #schmagent who sweet talked about how the publishing industry is going through rough times, blah, blahs and then slowly nudged the conversation towards publishers who they thought will be fit for my book since it is my debut as an author. The insult was casually thrown at me in this manner 'who knows you? they know my name at least' well... all this 8 months after they sat on my manuscript.

I am embarassed that some people have to eke out a living in this manner.

I am saying this because they never mentioned vanity publishers, or that they will not be representing my work to tradition publishers who pay some advance, or at least do not charge for publishing services.

What would you have done if you were in my shoes? Thank you in advance for your reply.

Ranga

I'm sorry that this happened. If I'm understanding it correctly, the "agent" (schmagent?) first directed you toward an editorial service that cost money, then only wanted to send your work to publishers who don't pay (or vanity publishers who charge money?) -- ugh.

Here's the thing: You aren't alone. It's very easy for an author to get conned, unfortunately -- That's why I am constantly banging on about Schmagents and Red Flags and all the rest of it! Because it happens ALL THE TIME. I get ads on my social media, email "opportunities" and even phone calls from schmagents and schmublishers -- and I'm not even a writer! So I am SURE that writers are targeted even more often.

Let's put it this way: An author has a big dream. They have always wanted to be published -- maybe they want that more than ANYTHING. Maybe they have an awesome idea, maybe they have worked on it for years, and have never managed to get to the next level, never gotten an agent's attention -- or never even known how to begin to try! Then they see an ad. "We'll publish your book!" or "Literary Agent seeking books like YOURS!" or "Go from great idea to PUBLISHED BOOK!"

-- Well hot damn! That's the answer to a prayer, right?

So they click the ad, or follow the link -- they "query" the "agent" or submit their ms to the "Publisher" -- and then they are asked for money for a processing fee, or a reading fee. Or they are advised to hire an "editor" to help polish their work -- perhaps an editor who, oh so conveniently, happens to be related to the "agent"! And maybe that author has never read the warnings, they are just new and hopeful and have a dim understanding of what an agent is even SUPPOSED to do, and it doesn't seem like THAT big a deal to pay somebody something -- we're all used to having to subscribe to things and pay for things, and a nominal fee might not seem out of line. Then when the editor comes into the picture, well, they are supposed to make your book better, "you get what you pay for", etc -- so the author goes along with that, too. And MAYBE they have misgivings or a spidey sense that something doesn't seem quite kosher, BUT, they've already invested some money and time, and they have this big dream still, so they want to see it through...

And then hundreds (or thousands) of dollars and months (or years) of time have passed... and they still don't have a book, or they DO have one but actually it is never in a bookstore, and/or they had to pay for it out of pocket. It sucks!

SO, what can you do? Be aware of the red flags, and raise awareness among newbies.

Self-publishing, "hybrid" publishing - even vanity publishing! - may have a time and place where they are the right option for an author. If you only want to have an heirloom book to share with your family, for example, maybe paying out of pocket to have a limited number of them beautifully made is the perfect thing for you to do. If you want to go on a self-publishing journey and you have a plan for how to sell your book and you are aware of the potential pitfalls -- GO FOR IT, lots of people find a lot of success that way!

But if you are trying to be published in the Trade market -- ie, books put out by publishers that are sold in bookstores -- remember the most important rule:

MONEY FLOWS TO THE WRITER.

A real agent will NEVER charge a "reading fee" or "processing fee" or "editorial fee" (OR refer you to a "editorial service" or similar that they get a kickback from) -- Agents are paid commission on works sold, not for services a la carte -- and we ONLY get paid when YOU get paid by a publisher. If an agent tries to charge you a fee - RUN.

A traditional publisher will NEVER ask you to pay for editorial services, printing, distribution, placement in stores, etc -- nor will they make you buy a certain number of copies of a book yourself. Publishers pay authors, not the other way around.

Anyone who tells you different is either badly misinformed, or actively trying to scam you.

[weird-an]

hello! idk if you take prompts/suggestions for ficlets but I really love your writing and this idea just popped into my head so I figured I’d ask!

Billy or Steve (idc which) having a really goofy laugh. Maybe they’ve been told in the past that it’s an ugly laugh or people usually cringe and end the conversation once The Laugh jumps out. Billy/Steve have resolved to not laughing (or maybe changing their laugh) to avoid the embarrassment of rejection again. But one day when they’re hanging out together (as friends or as an already established couple whichever you prefer), Billy/Steve gets a little too comfortable and The Laugh slips out. Billy/Steve is mortified, but it turns out that the other absolutely adores The Laugh.

It can be as angsty or as fluffy as you deem fit, I trust your literary judgement.

tw: bullying, Billy hurting someone in response to that, mentions of (verbal) abuse.

Billy's laugh is too high pitched and when he laughs really really hard, it always chokes in a sort of hiccup and squiek.

"You sound like a fucking girl," his dad tells him. "Cut it off."

So Billy tries to keep his mouth shut. To not laugh at home which is easy because Neil gives him nothing to laugh about anyway.

The boy that shoves him into the lockers at school, calls him fat because of his chubby cheeks and the same slurs his dad uses at home, catches him laughing at a stupid comic someone drew at his desk one day.

"You laugh like a pig," he says. "Piggy Billy."

It becomes a nickname he never asked for. He hears it in the hallways, in the lockers, everywhere.

His mom tells him that he doesn't need to listen to them. But then she fucking leaves and there's no one else to listen to except them and their ugly words.

Billy stops laughing at all. But he starts pushing back.

The anger inside him is a friend, getting bigger with every insult thrown, makes him strong. It's like a tunnel that only leads one way. He nearly breaks the kid's arm when he calls him Piggy Billy one more time.

They stop calling him that. Billy doesn't start to laugh again. He feels bad for losing his temper, but it works in his favor.

He doesn't think about laughing. They move to Hawkins and now its even hard to smile.

Then Steve Harrington decides to hang out with him, because he sees something in him that Billy doesn't really get. Because he tries to make Billy grin even when he's so angry and just wants to lash out and break something until it's as broken as he is. Because it works when Steve tries to put a smile on his lips and Billy wants to return the favor.

One day, they're stretched out on Steve's bed, skin still flushed and nerves tingling from the aftermath of their orgasms.

Steve's breathes ghosts over his neck and his fingers slide along Billy's ribs.

It tickles. Billy laughs. Too high pitched, choking on the grunt on the end. His mouth snaps shut and his cheeks burn when he realizes it.

He stares at the ceiling, panting and waits for Steve to joke about it.

"Oh my God," Steve looks absolutely delighted. "This is so cute."

He tickles Billy again. Billy's laugh slips out again, with that much force like it has just piled up in all these years, waiting to leave his throat.

"Cute," Steve says again.

"Fuck off. I'm not cute." Billy gasps, trying to catch his breath. His cheeks burn.

"Of course not," Steve says entirely insincere. He sits up. "Why didn't I ever hear that laugh before?"

A careless question that sounds too much like an accusation.

"I don't laugh."

Steve falls silent. A hint of confusion on his face changes into something else. Pity, sadness, Billy isn't sure what. But it's gone in a second.

"Well, you should. I like it."

"Just suck my dick, will ya?" Billy rolls his eyes, when Steve tickles him again.

The laugh shakes Billy from head to toes.

"I like it," Steve repeats.

He fucking means it, Billy realizes. There is that weird feeling in his chest again he always gets when Steve likes something about him. Despite of Billy being Billy.

The next time he laughs is when they watch a movie, Billy is sprawled out on the couch, head on Steve's lap.

The movie is stupid. It's so stupid, it's funny. The Laugh bubbles up again and he wants to slap his hand in front of his mouth, but Steve catches it before he's there, intertwining their fingers.

It's easier to laugh after that.

Billy laughs and Steve kisses him. It feels fucking good.

[burningvelvet]

Literary parallels: Arthur Rimbaud and Mary Shelley

Mary Shelley's journal entry from 3 December 1824:

"December 3. — I endeavour to rouse my fortitude and calm my mind by high and philosophic thoughts, and my studies aid this endeavour. I have pondered for hours on Cicero’s description of that power of virtue in the human mind which render’s man’s frail being superior to fortune. “Eadem ratio habet in re quiddam amplum at que magnificum ad imperandum magis quam ad parendum accommodatum; omnia humana non tolerabilia solum sed etiam levia ducens; altum quiddam et excelsum, nihil temens, nemini cedens, semper invictum.” What should I fear? To whom cede? By whom be conquered? Little truly have I to fear. One only misfortune can touch me. That must be the last, for I should sink under it. At the age of seven and twenty, in the busy metropolis of native England, I find myself alone. The struggle is hard that can give rise to misanthropy in one, like me, attached to my fellow-creatures. Yet now, did not the memory of those matchless lost ones redeem their race, I should learn to hate men, who are strong only to oppress, moral only to insult. Oh ye winged hours that fly fast, that, having first destroyed my happiness, now bear my swift-departing youth with you, bring patience, wisdom, and content! I will not stoop to the world, or become like those who compose it, and be actuated by mean pursuits and petty ends. I will endeavour to remain unconquered by hard and bitter fortune; yet the tears that start in my eyes show pangs she inflicts upon me. So much for philosophising. Shall I ever be a philosopher?"

From the poem Bad Blood by Arthur Rimbaud: "Hire myself to whom? What beasts must I adore — What sacred images must I destroy? Whose hearts shall I break — What lies must I maintain? Through whose blood am I to wade? Better to keep away from justice. A hard life, outright stupor, with a dried-out fist to lift the coffin lid, lie down, and suffocate. No old age this way, no danger."

[immediatebreakfast]

The total dissonance between the two main events of this entry is so funny, and brilliant. It's not even about how the story is slowly putting their pieces together as the important parts connect. It's all about how:

On one hand we have Mina being absolutely rejoiced since she finally got sister Agatha's letter, and how she already is preparing herself to go to Budapest to get to Jonathan as fast as she can. Her prose opens like a waterfall as Mina pours all of those feelings she held tight on her chest.

"I have cried over the good Sister's letter till I can feel it wet against my bosom, where it lies. It is of Jonathan, and must be next my heart, for he is in my heart."

On the other hand we have back doctor Jack Seward being so offended that Renfield doesn't acknowledge him as a superior anymore that he took a whole long paragraph to complain about it. To the point of Seward insulting Renfield while he records on his phonograph.

"but the God created from human vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow. Oh, if men only knew!"

These two events may belong in the same novel, but they certainly are different literary genres right now.

[spiritshaydra]

Okay yeah gonna say screw it and just post the fullbody I finished back in November because her ref is taking too long and I wanna share my cringe ass nae nae hellspawn 😭

OKAY SO

THIS IS REQUIEM (Or just “Em”)

And she’s a Megasound fanspawn,, bear with me, I’ve never made an oc like this before so I’ve been extremely nervous to show the creature off. 💀(especially since this is the fancharacter type I avoided making at all costs when in high school despite it leading to some very interesting character development.) Eventually I just said screw it, I’m proud of the design and character work I’ve been developing since August, I’m going to show her off.

I don’t really take her all too seriously as I originally made her to shitpost because I thought it’d be funny. And like my main TFP OC Quantum, she eventually grew past that and became something more. (While still keeping her silly at the same time)

I have. A LOT. Of development for this single celled organism that prolly won’t fit in one post, so on here I’m just going to do a sort of character bio thing (based on the format of Quantum’s Toyhouse bio) to introduce her. (Maybe I’ll do a Q&A sort of thing if anyone’s actually interested in that?)

HERE WE GO:

Name: Requiem (Em for short)

Name Origin: This is what happens when you put a poetry/mythology nerd and a music nerd in a room together and have them name something. You get a name with origins in both music and literature (A music or literary composition that acts as a form of remembrance for the souls of the dead.) annnnnnd a reference to a mythological figure (the name of Megatronus/The Fallen’s weapon, the Requiem Blaster. Gee sure wonder who’s idea that was.) Unfortunately, the goblin who was given that name has a grand total of two brain cells and has as much class as a hagfish.

Gender: female

Pronouns: she/her

Species: Cybertronian

Height:  12ft approximate (for design depicted above)/ 30ft (adult; not pictured)

Alt-Mode: (Base) Cybertronian heavy bomber/ (Earth) Tupolev Tu-160 Blackjack

Home Planet: Earth

Faction: Decepticon

Pre-War Occupation: Did not exist before the war.

Personality: Requiem is loud, stubborn, rude, mischievous, a little naive, and all around a feral mess. Absolutely no filter. Textbook example of “curiosity killed the cat”. The champion of the age-old schoolyard discussion of “my dad can beat up your dad.” For… obvious reasons.

She’s easily bored and easily distracted, and thinks it’s entertaining to mess with other bots in the form of stupid pranks and barrages of questions.

Has a bit of a potty mouth and gets creative with her insults.

A fembo (but a lil mean) was told to use her head in a fight, but ended up head butting the opponent and subsequently knocking them out as a result.

As a result of (EXTREME) helicopter parenting combined with adrenaline junkie behavior, Requiem has the tendency to be an escape artist and to purposely seek out potentially dangerous situations such as but not limited to: Diving into a hurricane (to see what would happen), storm chasing (the bigger the better! Also to see what would happen), playing Icarus and getting struck by lightning on the Flight Deck of the warship (STRIKE ME DOWN ZEUS), sneaking out of the Nemesis and simultaneously smuggling all sorts of creepy crawlies and other organic critters back on board (has to be shaken out just to be sure.), being a little too interested in volcanic activity, sneaking weapons out of the armory and attempting to join the fight, and sneaking away from the ship to “explore”. Em wrangling is a very tiring objective.

If Rumble and Frenzy were alive, they would’ve definitely gotten along. (And would’ve been an unstoppable force of chaos oh gOD.)

She likes the pastel magical horse show about friendship, LOVES stickers, and her absolute favorite color is the most obnoxious eye bleeding shade of pink imaginable. (She was denied changing her PRIMARY paint job color to it for obvious reasons. Honey, that is a LOOK and not exactly a good one.)  She likes to pretend to be a gladiator. She likes to give people really stupid and bad nicknames for the hell of it. A favorite being combining the first few letters of a name or descriptor with “uncle”. She thinks it’s hilarious. A little too interested in arson and explosives. Her music taste can be described as “2012 Warrior cats amv” and “noise”. Really likes slasher films for some reason.

She exhibits several behaviors that could only be described as those of a cryptid. (…or cat.) These range from being able to sneak up on others and move without making a sound, staring unblinkingly and expressionlessly at things and other bots, climbing up and perching on top of things, noise mimicry, recharging facedown in a deathlike manner, and the worst thing being how she used to skitter across the walls and ceilings of the Nemesis as a sparkling. There were a handful of instances where she got into the vents of the ship and it was a nightmare trying to coax her back out. Oh yeah. There was a biting problem.

Requiem either hates or actively dislikes things ranging from water, being told to stay still, the thunder part of thunderstorms, the medbay, and being quarantined.

Her social ability leaves much to be desired, as she was raised in total isolation from her own age group, so she lacks most social skills as a result. Because of this, she often comes across as “weird” and as a bully, even if unintentional. Due to her isolated upbringing, she is a very lonely individual despite not exactly acting the part. Being routinely quarantined does not help that feeling of loneliness in the slightest. Em wants nothing more than a friend, or at least an acquaintance to spend time with. It’s just that, given who her parents are, that makes things impossible.

She has a very unhealthy view on death, as it isn’t exactly rare onboard the Nemesis. Surprisingly, she was actively kept away and shielded from most of the fighting as a child- however, in wartime there’s only so much one could be protected from even as the child of the highest ranking individuals of the faction.