#a midsummer night's dream kin
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Good evening! I am Titania from A Midsummer Night’s Dream! I’m curious if there are any others that are from this source out there! If not I’d be delighted to speak with others from sources of the same author as well! No minors please, I am an adult!
! ! !
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mendi can treat me like his spaniel
TIRED PLEASE WHAT 😨😨😨
#I THINK UR KINNING THAT ONE LADY IN A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM A LITTLE TOO HARD#THIS CAME OUT OF LEFT FIELD#moochie answers#tired <3
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Hey! Hope you're doing good!! :) I'm wondering if you know any Drarry fics that have mythological elements / stories as part of the plot. For example, a fic based on Greek myths like Hades/Persephone?
Hi anon! I’m doing great, what about you? :) oh that’s a really cool ask, I hope you enjoy these! I strongly recommend checking khalulu’s stuff as they always explore different mythologies and cultures across their works. I’d love to get more recs on this theme, too!
Nordic:
Veðr by @shealwaysreads (M, 3k)
Norsemen have ranged far enough inland to find Harry, alone and abandoned by his kith and kin. But they bring far more than danger with them, they bring adventure, they bring magic.
Swedish:
Sweden | A Midsummer Night’s Dream by @drarrelie (M, 5.5k)
With the war finally over, you’d think Harry would finally be granted that “normal life” he’s always dreamt about. Finally free from the Dursleys, from that nose-less megalomaniac, from Horcruxes, Hollows, Death Eaters, Dementors, Prophecies… you’d think that he, for the first time in his life, would be allowed to be just a normal teenager. You’d think he’d deserve that much, right?
Russian:
S’Mitten by khalulu (G, 6k)
Harry and Draco aren’t enemies any more, but it seems their history will always stand between them – so let’s try some other histories on for size! The fickle finger of fate is muffled in one of Mrs Weasley’s mittens. Did I mention kisses?
Norwegian:
East of the Sun and West of the Moon by khalulu (T, 6k)
One stormy Thursday evening, a big white bear named Draco turns up to carry Harry away from the dreadful Dursleys. They get along fairly happily together until one night Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him, and Draco is whisked away to his wicked aunt’s castle, East of the Sun and West of the Moon. It will take a strong wind to bring Harry that far…..
Albanian:
What Country, Friends, Is This? by khalulu (M, 8k)
When Harry and Draco are paired up for a nebulous “capstone project” in 8th year, Draco suggests they use it as an opportunity to take a free Grand Tour of Europe. Harry isn’t interested in being grand, and they soon veer off the beaten path. The journey to find what (and who) you really want can lead to unexpected places. (As well as Bertha Jorkins’ aunt, Illyrian Serpent cults, heroic baby Draco tales, and Slytherins singing Motown.)
Hindu:
Birds of Dreams / Remover of Obstacles / Guardian of Waters by khalulu (G, 12k)
Harry is exploring his Desi heritage, and Draco runs into him in colourful circumstances. Luna has a penchant for puns and the Patils watch Bollywood. Paper is folded, a flying carpet takes an Indian road trip, and a phoenix is found. Love blooms along the way, a flower that’s free.
Finnish:
Sparks from the Fox’s Tail by khalulu (T, 17k)
Draco is frustrated with his career as a travel writer, when a mini-tirade from Mrs Weasley and an encounter with the portrait of an intrepid great-great-great-aunt lead him to Finland to study wandless magic. Harry is – just being contrary and following his sweet-tooth, or taking the subtle route to saving the world?
Multiple:
The Hardest Hue To Hold by @cavendishbutterfly (M, 17k)
Harry needs to get the hell out of England. So he sets up a teaching assistantship in America, hops on a plane, and heads off to a fresh start. Except there’s a familiar face among the university faculty, and it’s really not the familiar face that Harry wanted. Or at least, it’s not who Harry wanted at first.
Irish:
Offer Up Our Hearts by @tackytigerfic (M, 23k)
Harry Potter has a very nice life, thank you very much. He's a top Curse-Breaker with a lucrative Ministry contract, and exciting prospects ahead. Sometimes he does wish that he had time to pursue something official with Draco Malfoy - they're half in love with each other, after all, and a great team (in and out of bed), though Draco is still one of the most infuriating people he knows.
Egyptian:
Memory Lost | You Found by @maraudersaffair (E, 30k)
After his Auror training, Harry's assigned to guard the Department of Mysteries - specifically the room where Malfoy is being held in comfortable captivity. Yet no one will tell him why, and what's more concerning? Malfoy doesn't remember Harry at all. To uncover the mystery, Harry must travel all the way to Egypt where he discovers a magical community living in the great pyramids and a long held secret that is dangerous to anyone who knows it.
Arthurian:
The Compact by astolat (E, 64k)
Hermione frowned. “The real question is why the magic of Britain would be failing now, in fact.” “That is not the real question!” Ron said loudly; he’d woken up fully by now, and Harry had too; it was starting to sink in that they’d found the problem. “The real question is, how do we fix it?”
Brazilian:
A Sense of Scale by @fantalfart and dragontamerdrarry (M, 70k)
In which Draco spends an obscene amount of time thinking of new nicknames for The Living Git, lying to himself and using his charms to seduce an extremely uncooperative sentient school.
Celtic:
The Stars Have Courage by @fantalfart (M, 85k)
Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He's not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.
Greek:
Close Behind by @oflights (M, 134k)
To rescue Draco from the Underworld, Harry has to look forward. Unfortunately, Draco has to look back.
Bonus: dark fae AU 🧚♂️
Mushrooms of Wiltshire by @shiftylinguini (T, 5k)
There's no point unpacking―Harry's not staying long, and besides, there's just bundled rags in his valise. The illusion of belongings, of a man heading to a new position at a prestigious manor―one beset with rumours of old magic and of impish forest dwellers causing chaos and mayhem amid the phosphorescent toadstool glow. Bugger the job. Harry's here for the rumours. He's been chasing them for years.
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Excuse my brain rot and the fact that I was a theatre kid BUT-
What Shakespearean Monologue I Want to See Each BG3 Companion Perform
Wyll
“O Soft, What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks” from Romeo and Juliet
Of course. There is no other option.
This man is a hopeless romantic and, I adore him, would not get the point of the play but would have so much fun playing Romeo.
Everyone in the cast would also be hopelessly in love with him.
(Bonus) “Once More Upon the Breech!” from Henry V
Oh this man would KILL this monologue. The battle cry? The rousing of his men against an impossible task? It’s what he was made to do, it’s what the character was built for.
Equal and opposite to how he’d absolutely slay as Romeo, he would make an amazing Henry.
Karlach
“O, Then I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You” from Romeo and Juliet
I almost, almost gave this to Astarion because I think he could also do it justice, but he already had two monologues.
Just… love u Karlach you can say whatever nonsense and I will nod along. Also absolutely ragging on your friend and getting carried away in the bit feels very in character for her.
I feel like she doesn’t really do acting but she would come support her friend’s productions however she could.
Astarion
“To Be Or Not To Be” from Hamlet
Hear me out; I think it would either be so over dramatic or the best damn rendition you’ve ever heard.
Contemplation of mortality, pain, existence? Astarion is at his best when he’s having an existential crisis.
This man was also just built to play Hamlet. You could replace this with “‘Tis now the very witching hour of night,” “O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt” Or any of his soliloquies and what I said still goes.
(Bonus) “Dost Thou Not Suspect My Place?” from Much Ado About Nothing
This is one of the best comedic monologues Shakespeare has to offer and I won’t be told otherwise
Specifically based on the line of Dogberry describing himself as a tasty piece of flesh while also being Dogberry and flouncing about, being hysterical, because someone called him an ass.
(Bonus 2) (Sorry this man is very Shakespeare coded) He would be such a good Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Just a little shit.
Gale
“O, She Misused Me Past the Endurance of a Block!” From Much Ado About Nothing
Just as I think Astarion was built to play Hamlet, Gale was built to play Benedick.
He’s just enough of an ass but also fucking comedic enough to pull this off and make it hysterical. Like Benedick, he also just keeps talking.
(Bonus) Lear’s Storm Monologues
I think at his worst, Gale could do Lear some fuckin justice in his performance of that specific piece, and that slow descent into madness.
Lae’zel
“I Would Eat His Heart In The Marketplace” from Much Ado About Nothing
It’s a take I’m so here for and I think she’d get really into scolding Benedick for being a dishonorable coward.
Just think about the potential delivery of “Oh! If I were a man! I’d eat his heart in the marketplace!” gives me chills.
I don’t ship Lae’zel and Gale necessarily but I think if you put them in a production of Much Ado together it would be cemented as a bar-standard production.
Shadowheart
“O What a Noble Mind Been O’erthrown” from Hamlet
She kins Ophelia and you can’t tell me otherwise. Also specifically, in this, the context of being used as a pawn by everyone in her life feels appropriate.
(Bonus) Let her play Joan of Arc in Henry VI. I don’t know why she’s so Joan of Arc coded in my brain but let her do it.
Halesin
“All the World’s a Stage” from As You Like It
This one is the one I’m least confident about but the world-weary and worn nature that it can take on feels very Halesin and I think he would do a performance in such a way that it sends you spiraling into an existential crisis.
(Bonus) Minthara
“And Dash’d the Brains Out!” from Macbeth
Again, I just think Minthara would kill as Lady Macbeth.
But, I don’t think “Out damn spot” would be where she shined; I think these moments of absolute murder and ambition would.
Also inspired by the production (in DC I think?) where they had to cut Lady Macbeth literally smashing a baby doll on rocks during this monologue because the audience found it too disturbing.
#this took me way too long please enjoy#I love Shakespeare so much and have brain rot#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 shitpost#baldur's gate 3#bg3 memes#baldur's gate 3 memes#bg3 meme
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A Midsummer Night's Dream AU
fairy king!Aleksander x fairy queen!Reader
• moodboards masterlist •
The same argument again, he wants the changeling child from Shu Han and you refuse. Threats and accusations fly as your fight reflects on the sky.
"Why are you here, Darkling?" The words cut him as you meant, that name sounds so foreign from you he hardly recognizes it.
The effort to hold back the gasp at the painful refusal gives you the opportunity to continue uninterrupted. "Have you travelled all the way here to bless the bed of your mortal lover?"
"Do you think I do not know of your time with her prince?" Your husband practically growls back and lightning strikes between you, setting fire to the forest which already suffers from the storm your fight created.
"Do you hear what you speak?! Jealous imaginings!" You scoff at him after raising your voice.
"Enough of this! Give me the child and end this rebellion!" He dares to order you and that unleashes your anger on him.
"She is my kin, made of light and Light has no place in your court of Dark!" With your yell, the little storm turns into a raging thunder.
He says nothing, but he really doesn't have to as his gaze shifts to your blue kefta again. The visible proof of how far you separated, how you keep rejecting him.
With sadness, that feels like daggers in your heart, he looks away and the world calms around you after a minute. You look down and sigh but the next thing you know is that he kneels next to where you sit.
"They deserve the blessing, their love is true." His tone is calm, and quiet, in his own way asking for a truce but what he says makes the ugly feelings return.
"What do you know about what is love and true?" You hiss at him, unintentionally leaning closer. Too close.
His gaze flickers to your lips. "Do you wish me to prove it to you?"
For a moment he has you. If it wasn't for the noise of someone stepping on a twig from behind you, pulling you back from his enchanting presence, you would have given in as you could never deny your husband anything. You never really wanted to before, but he was asking for too much.
"I know you could not. If you would know love, you would never act like this. If you would know to be true..."
Calmness washes over you both, in waves, and comes the pain in between too but there is no anger or raised voices anymore.
"If you claim to know both, why do you insist on hurting me so?" His dark eyes shine with unshed tears and your heart breaks once again.
"I did not start this fight."
"Hmm." Before you could argue with his reaction that could best be translated as a 'perhaps", he gives you a challenge he knows you could not refuse. "But you will end it tonight."
He reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away the tears you didn't notice until now, and then he continues to speak. "Prove that the royal couple is not a true match, break them apart before the wedding starts."
What he really is asking for is that you prove him wrong and you are so eager to, even if it means proving you right in your fears.
"What will I get when I win?"
The choice of your words makes him grin. When, not if. That's my Queen, he thinks.
"Being right isn't enough?" At your defiant but almost amused expression he laughs but offers the peace for what you asked. "I will leave the child to you, never attempting to claim her again."
"And if I lose?" Your voice barely more than whisper as he leans even closer, his hand moving down and his thumb brushing along your lips.
"You will do as your king commands." The power and residue of anger laced in his voice causing your fairies to tremble in fear but it only makes you want him more.
"Give me the child and return to my side." Your eyes flatter close, fighting not to give in because you know he never plays fair. "And return to my bed."
As you let your senses wander, you become aware of the mortals entering your forest and a plan starts to form in your mind.
"That is my challenge." You accept your task but immediately add a condition. "Will you accept yours?"
He is amused, and that promises nothing good for you. With a wicked glint in his eyes, he nods, prompting you to continue.
"You asked for two things." Me and the girl. "It is only right for two challenges."
The mortals in the woods will occupy him. Despite your claim for not believing he could make them find true love tonight, you know he will win, he always does. For that game, you are his prize and you might not mind losing that so much.
But for the other part, you are determined to win. The girl in your care should be the only reason or at least the main reason but there are petty feelings urging you to prove Aleksander wrong and mess with the girl who would be a princess by tomorrow.
Your silent scheming is interrupted when your infuriating husband steals a kiss before he disappears.
• moodboards masterlist •
#ugh so much color#depressing whatever under the cut#moodboard#moodboards#aleksander morozova#aleksander morozova x reader#darkling#the darkling#darkling x reader#aleksaender morozova moodboard#fairy king!aleksander morozova#fairy king!darkling#fairy queen!Reader#alternate universe
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O. Henry Reading list
I've read 100 Hundred O. Henry stories over the past week. The aim was to get a good understanding of the themes and tropes present in his writing and also to find stories to adapt beyond the most popular ones (And also to show-off with a pretty number).
Reading list (In order of reading):
20 Years
Hearts & Minds
The Cops & the Anthem
The Ransom of the Red Chief
The Caliph, Cupid & the clock
Mammon & the Archer
A retrieved Reformation
The furnished Room
The Count & the Wedding Guest
Hearts & Crosses
The Romance of a Busy Broker
American Stories
A municipality Report
A Man About Town
A Cosmopolite in a Cafe
The Last Leaf
A Service of Love
Tobin's Palm
Springtime a la Cart
By Courier
The Coming Out of Maggie
The Cactus
Girl
One Dollar's Worth
Witches Loaves
Between Rounds
The Skylight Room
An Adjustment of Nature
Memoirs of a Yellow Dog
The Love Philtre
The Green Door
From the Cabby's Seat
An Unfinished Story
Sisters of the Golden Circle
Lost on a Dress Parade
The Brief Debut of Tildy
The Poet & the Peasant
Babes in the Jungle
A Ramble in Aphasia
Proof of the Pudding
Conscience in Art
Transcient in Arcadia
The Robe of Peace
The Duel
Innocents of Broadway
The Princess & the Puma
The Badge of the Policeman O'Roon
The Girl & the Graft
Psyche & the Psyscraper
A lickpenny Lover
The Third Ingredient
The Purple Dress
The Roads We Take
Make the World Kin
Brick Dust Row
A Strange Story
The Trimmed Lamp
A Call Loan
The Pendulum
Two Thanksgiving Day Gentlemen
The Guilty Party
The Detective Detector
A Little Talk About Mobs
Suite Home & their Romance
A Sacrifice Hit
A Newspaper Story
Two Recalls
Tommy's Burglar
An Odd Character
A Houston Romance
The Legend of San Jacinto
The Pink Flask
A New Microbe
Whiskey did it
Nothing New Under the Sun
The Barber Talks
Did you See the Circus
A Story for Men
How he got in the Swin
When the Train Comes in
The Girl & the Habbit
What You Want
While the Auto Waits
The Prisoner of Zambla
The Clairon Call
Aristocracy vs. Hash
Lord Oakhurst's Curse
The Rathskeller & the Rose
The Marry Month of May
The Social Triangle
A Midsummer Night's Dream
The Duplicity of Hargraves
According to their lights
Fickle Fortune: How Gladys Hustled
The Voice of the City
Newspaper Poets
The Snow
How Willie Saved Father
In Mezzotint
The Mirage on the Frio
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Y'all know me and my general reluctance to Do A Capitalism, but like. It's the time and I'm trying to buy my wife a new computer so here I am, Doing A Capitalism. Everything is half off, plus a completely ridiculous "buy it allllll" which amounts to about 75% off.
Highlights include:
By the Author of Lady Windermere's Fan, which is the best RPG ever made about Oscar Wilde plays. This one, in addition to being a hilarious and exhausting game that will resonate with the theater kids in the audience, is just a very funny read.
Penis 2.0.77, which is not a "game" so much as it is a zine full of jokes about genitals. Finish off the elaborate character creation for a game that doesn't exist, entirely focused on your underwear zone.
Let's Rob RJ McElhenny and Steal Her Golden Quill, which... hold up, let's check and see if Rowling has said anything this week which makes me want to cry and puke... checking... checking... and yes, of course she did, which means this game is a fucking evergreen catharsis fantasy of wizards robbing a terrible billionaire.
You're all lost, starving, in the snowy wilds. You need food. You must sacrifice somebody. But who? Discuss. Vote. Live., which is a game whose entire text consists of that title, which maxes out the "title field" length when uploading to itch. That was made for a jam and damn if I'm not proud.
o tawa, which is to the best of my knowledge the first and only RPG written from the ground up in Toki Pona. sona mi la, musi ni li musi wan taso lon toki pona taso. musi la, sina ken tawa lon telo suli, li ken lukin e ma telo nasa, li ken pana e pona tawa jan ale. kin la, sina jo e wawa nasa kepeken nimi pi toki pona. It's a cool way to practice the language if you're learning it!
Wooden Sword Thespians, which is just me going "Thirsty Sword Lesbians is pretty fun but what if instead of powerful adventurers defending your community from toxic threats, you were trying to put on a high school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream?"
And more! There's a Disco Elysium game, a Locked Tomb game, a Next Generation game, and weirder little games besides.
Check it out. Get some games at some discounts. Laugh at my little japes and jests. Get my wife an Acer Aspire TC so she can play Binding of Isaac while she's supposed to be working. Engage in Capital with me.
#indie rpg#sales#doing a capitalism#ttrpg#oscar wilde#That TERF who wrote those wizard books#toki pona#thirsty sword lesbians#trans#i mean i shouldn't have to specify it but the penis game is mega trans#i guess so is the robbing jk rowling game#i mean they're all trans like i wrote them right?
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The Statue of the Virgin at Granard Speaks - Paula Meehan - Ireland
It can be bitter here at times like this,
November wind sweeping across the border.
Its seeds of ice would cut you to the quick.
The whole town tucked up safe and dreaming,
even wild things gone to earth, and I
stuck up here in this grotto, without as much as
star or planet to ease my vigil.
The howling won’t let up. Trees
cavort in agony as if they would be free
and take off — ghost voyagers
on the wind that carries intimations
of garrison towns, walled cities, ghetto lanes
where men hunt each other and invoke
the various names of God as blessing
on their death tactics, their night manoeuvres.
Closer to home the wind sails over
dying lakes. I hear fish drowning.
I taste the stagnant water mingled
with turf smoke from outlying farms.
They call me Mary — Blessed, Holy, Virgin.
They fit me to a myth of a man crucified:
the scourging and the falling, and the falling again,
the thorny crown, the hammer blow of iron
into wrist and ankle, the sacred bleeding heart.
They name me Mother of all this grief
though mated to no mortal man.
They kneel before me and their prayers
fly up like sparks from a bonfire
that blaze a moment, then wink out.
It can be lovely here at times. Springtime,
early summer. Girls in Communion frocks
pale rivals to the riot in the hedgerows
of cow parsley and haw blossom, the perfume
from every rushy acre that’s left for hay
when the light swings longer with the sun’s push north.
Or the grace of a midsummer wedding
when the earth herself calls out for coupling
and I would break loose of my stony robes,
pure blue, pure white, as if they had robbed
a child’s sky for their colour. My being
cries out to be incarnate, incarnate,
maculate and tousled in a honeyed bed.
Even an autumn burial can work its own pageantry.
The hedges heavy with the burden of fruiting
crab, sloe, berry, hip; clouds scud east
pear scented, windfalls secret in long
orchard grasses, and some old soul is lowered
to his kin. Death is just another harvest
scripted to the season’s play.
But on this All Souls’ Night there is
no respite from the keening of the wind.
I would not be amazed if every corpse came risen
from the graveyard to join in exaltation with the gale,
a cacophony of bone imploring sky for judgement
and release from being the conscience of the town.
On a night like this I remember the child
who came with fifteen summers to her name,
and she lay down alone at my feet
without midwife or doctor or friend to hold her hand
and she pushed her secret out into the night,
far from the town tucked up in little scandals,
bargains struck, words broken, prayers, promises,
and though she cried out to me in extremis
I did not move,
I didn’t lift a finger to help her,
I didn’t intercede with heaven,
nor whisper the charmed word in God’s ear.
On a night like this I number the days to the solstice
and the turn back to the light.
O sun,
centre of our foolish dance,
burning heart of stone,
molten mother of us all,
hear me and have pity.
#the statue of the virgin at Granard speaks#paula meehan#ireland#poem#poetry#poems from around the world
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Film Review: Midsommar Reveals the Unspeakable Horror at the Heart of Going Over to Dinner at Your Swedish Friend's House
So, this was a weird one to watch with my mom and sister over Christmas break, 2021, while i recovered with her from a tumultuous emotional upheaval in my life. You know when your anarchist food distribution network implodes on itself because of assault allegations, and then your entire life blows up from the emotional fallout because you were supposed to move in with the guy at the center of it all? No? Well, when that happens, it leaves you in the right frame of mind to suggest Ari Aster's Midsommar as a perfect bit of family bonding to watch with your death doula mother and estranged intrepid globe-trotting sister. "You guys like psychological thrillers, right?" i naively said, queuing the film up. As Mr. Aster so beautifully illustrates in this nasty little movie, there truly is no place like home for the holidays.
My first viewing of the film had been two years earlier, when i was living in a thirty-bedroom party house near a large university, which was honestly pretty similar to the sinister Nordic society that Aster dreams up here. i was myself (allegedly) on shrooms when i wandered into the living room to see Florence Pugh's simpering, miserable face, surrounded by breathing flowers.
It wasn't until later, viewing the film in full with a close friend in their room, that i realized the flowers in this movie are just f**kin' like that.
i had seen the trailers for the film, been interested, and promptly forgotten of its existence, having not yet seen Aster's previous nightmare, Hereditary. Watching it that night in my friend's darkened lair of a room, stoned to the bone while she ran torture mods on her Sims on her laptop, i was a changed woman. i was, now and forever, Ari Aster's little bitch, cursed to simp for everything the man touches until i am pushed from the top of the senior citizen high dive cliff myself.
i'll be the first to admit that Aster by no means makes perfect films. Built on the bones of classical tragedy and comedy the way they are, they are rudimentary films, hardly cerebral like his contempories Eggers and Peele. There is something almost primal about Aster's gaze. Pelle sums it up best, as he explains the function of his remote village's midsummer festival to the film's protagonist Dani: "It's like a play," he says. Indeed, as Hereditary turns a bare bones haunted house story into a Greek tragedy, this film turns the macabre pageantry of rustic European folk dancing into a basic, almost paint-by-numbers, slasher flick. The cast of mostly disposable college students are picked off one-by-one by the rural pagans. It's hardly breaking new ground here—but treading old ground seems to be Aster's primary project. The man dances on top of graves with a wicked abandon, and if you're not privy to his particular brand of self-aware theatre kid shenanigans, it can be... a lot.
My mother and my sister were, for example, less than enthralled with my gushing over the ways Aster deftly compares the base, cathartic tradition of watching a bunch of co-eds get their shit wrecked with ooky-spooky horror-fied neopagan rituals. What can i say? i thought that she, as a hospice nurse who studies death practices around the world, would think it was interesting.
At its core, Midsommar is a movie about losing all the stability in your life, and having it completely colonized by found family, like honey bees building their hive in the skull of a lion. Found family is usually a treacly trope, one which ties characters together through strength found in their shared struggled against adversity. Midsommar flips that on its head, introducing us, in a manner not unlike Disney's classic film Meet the Robinsons, to the adoptive familial unit from hell. It raises the spectre of classic daylight horror cinema like The Wicker Man, trampling on its burial mound with manic dancing feet. Family traditions can be murder. As stated, the message is blunt as a hammer. Aster is not a subtle film-maker. Indeed, the opening shot establishes the whole film, just as in Hereditary, as nothing but an elaborate puppet show where the puppets bleed. A lot. In many respects it is the same movie told over again, with Aster's dolls moved from the dollhouse to the garden outside.
Simply put, the movie is incredibly pretty, incredibly fun if you're into this kind of things, absolutely insufferable if not. The soundtrack, color-grading, and ending sequence are transcendent. When Father Odd tells Dani "Welcome home," upon arriving in the village, you will either fall for their intoxicating spell, or you'll be smart enough to get the hell out.. Either way, i recommend it heartily, and can not recommend (allegedly) dropping shrooms at the same time as the characters in the film enough.
Read on LetterBoxd HERE.
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wait theres other people… who kin from shakespeare sources ??? HELLO ???
ophelia , hamlet & puck , a midsummer nights dream
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Excerpt from “fake” encomium given years ago...
at Lake Wobegone High School (my alma mater),
and recently discovered ridiculous rough draft
amidst plethora of junk emails
while practice reading some lines
regarding Midsummer Night's Dream
upcoming performance.
Arch back like a professional ballet dancer
to stand out from other pedestrian applicants
seeking to fill my well-worn shoes.
Illuminate your soul
via modest communication
sans sole full insight
acquired thru being apprenticed
with this storied prestigious law firm
of Anne Culle, Achilles Heale,
and Marathon Nike.
Keep your nose
to the academic grindstone
despite the temptation
to appropriate the international family business
and graduate with supreme accolades
from this famous father.
He forsook frivolity
per his peers
in exchange for a stock reputation
of gentility honesty, and integrity
despite his humble roots
as the only male heir
of a Middle Eastern European
Jewish mother and father.
They scrimped, saved and sacrificed
scarce resources to set the stage
for this scion
of well-deserved fame and fortune.
Never forget those grandparents
whose adherence to work
their fingers to the bone
(literally) allowed, enabled
and provided this founding partner
per the trio of stalwart attorneys
for the underdogs
of the World Wide Web.
Match deeds with credo of obedience
to the law of the land,
as epitomized by Abraham Lincoln.
Such obeisance to a democratic dogma
will be firm stepping-stones
to engender and kindle tinder
an Amazon zone
of cathartic karma
from paternal persona.
Such acquiescence toward morals
of the conscience (and remembrance
of previous generations
blood, sweat and tears)
will serve as intrinsic manna
for clients to clamor
like an unstoppable rolling stone
to seek counsel
from one whose genuine
heart felt equalitarian demeanor
a near perfect recipe for satisfaction
for helping others smooth out
jagged abutments arising in their lives.
Rather than lecture and command
with a dictatorial cutthroat reign of terror
(as casually espoused in “The Prince”
by Machiavelli), this democratic,
humanistic, liberal minded torchbearer
of justice advises active listening
(as advocated by the late Jean Dole,
my renown mentor from Lima, Pennsylvania),
inculcating intuitive posturing
toward delivering random acts of kindness.
This includes offer services
pro bono (with Cher full smile)
if an individual, family,
municipality, et cetera appears copacetic
yet struggles against insurmountable odds
from even chew will fickle finger of fate.
Exemplify by example of zeal
for the underdog
(immersed in some catastrophic series
of unfortunate events)
that money need not be demanded
before the welfare of the downtrodden
(sic – such as the Harris Family
from Penn Valley –
who live among the wealthiest people,
yet feel like outcasts of Poker Flats)
from the mere exuberance
of witnessing an ear to ear smile of gratitude.
Rather than be biased, inclined
to be prejudiced based
on cursory observations
of one or many barely clinging
to the life raft of survival,
I (as a humble human)
encourage a relationship of trust
before casting an indiscriminate eye
toward those less fortunate
to live in the lap of luxury.
Luck (or the lack thereof)
an invisible yet potent additive
to this mix for those flush
with disposable income
or exiled to a hand to mouth
hardscrabble existential dilemma.
Daily acknowledgement
for ethnic, genetic and quixotic
dice throw of chance in tandem
with loving support of immediate
kith and kin instrumental
in keeping in check
bombastically egotistical,
haughtily radical degradation
of fixation of values
steeped in appreciation
of aesthetics, beauty, charm,
decency, equality
from gifts hoed inside.
Joyfulness keeps love moving
needling offset predilections.
Quality rests squarely
upon the pillars of staying
within the bounds of service
to those less able bodied
or beset with untold obstacles
that discourage setting virtue
(or the closest approximation
of what that means
to the inquiring mind)
as precedent to blaze a trail
of care and concern.
Always maintain benevolent devotion
forswearing greediness.
Invoke keepsake mandating omnipotent
natural personal righteousness
to vaccinate yourself against
heinous, nefarious, pernicious,
et cetera rapacious
trapdoors of selfishness.
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good enough for you is good enough for me
sweeney todd // 2020 rocky horror livestream // love never dies // a midsummer night’s dream // death note // sh1ttypo3try on tiktok
#web weaving#parallels#my thing#sweeney todd#rocky horror#love never dies#a midsummer nights dream#death note#i really looked through my kin list for quote inspiration#yikes the theatre kid really jumped out of me#lol i’m fine i just need to recognize my worth in comparison to others better#being second best sucks i’m glad i’m doing it less and less
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moodboard ➔ puck
#a midsummer night's dream#shakespeare#puck#puck kin#kin#fictionkin#moodboard#a midsummer night's dream kin#if you want it more centric on being trans I can redo it
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What are Hermia, Lysander, Helena, and Demetrius up to? Hope they’re all still going strong!
Hermia: Helena and Demetrius are still adjusting to being a couple. They still get so flustered when they hold hands they're like, so CUUUUTE 💞💞
#shakespeare#mod star#drawn response#a midsummer nights dream#lysander#demetrius#helena#hermia#if the colors look familiar together....they should#(hint: they saw a musical together and called kin rights)#mod aster pointed out that w out colors demetrius and benedick are the same :/#anyway i love them
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lil excerpt from my fic: It’s Rotten Work
synopsis: In the midst of Todd's continual crisis of what exactly Neil's "no" means, Neil asks him to read from a scene from Orestes. You know, for practice.
Without warning, a hardy navy book fell into his lap. Tentatively, Todd opened it to where someone had placed a crudely folded Latin worksheet between the pages as a makeshift bookmark. His brow knitted questioningly, "Orestes?"
"Yes! It's a play about Orestes after he ki—"
"I know of it," Todd murmured gently. He squinted at the hardcover, noting its wear, "This looks old; did Keating give it to you?" Neil nodded quickly with the same gleam to his eyes that he had when he had first told him about A Midsummer Night's Dream. "Why?"
Neil's grin brightened. "Ginny was telling me about this memorization method. See," he crouched before the bed, running his fingers along the worn edges of the book, his features relaxing into temperate fascination, "if you read through the scene and know where you end, you'll know where to begin. It's supposed to help with blocking and tone. I've already read it through, and I was hoping..." Neil peered back up at him with those fervent eyes before he broke his inconspicuous character and cracked a smile, "my favorite scene partner would help me test it out?"
A part of him felt like there was something Neil wasn't telling him, like he was coaxing him into a game he didn't know all the rules to. His throat seared with the uneasy feeling. He nodded quickly, "Yeah, uh, sure. I'll help."
For a hair-raising moment, Neil's doe eyes lingered on him, and Todd's pace quickened with the fear that he had misunderstood what Neil had meant, that he was alluding to someone else, and he had just assumed—
"You are a saint, Todd Anderson," Neil let out a relieved sigh, and Todd almost mirrored him, pushing his hands off the bed. "You read for Orestes; I'll be Pylades."
Todd fleetingly scanned the page, his eyes settling on a line while Neil composed himself for his role. "You worm," he read monotonously, "What good are you? You'll make war for a woman, but not your own kin? You'll turn your back on me now that Adamemmon's cause is finished? Father, we are friendless after all. Betrayed. No hope. This man was my exit strategy.
"Oh," the corners of his lips quivered upwards as Neil tore his blanket off the bed, fastening it around his shoulder to his waist in true dramatic fashion. "But look, here comes Pylades, my dearest friend, a sight as sweet as calm water to sailors."
Neil turned back to face him, and suddenly, his handsome face was serious, dashing over to kneel before the bed, "I raced through the town as I heard of the citizen assembly. I saw it too." He glanced behind him urgently, "They mean to kill you and your sister." Neil took Todd's hands in his, staring up at him with big, fretful eyes, "What's going on? How are you faring — dearest, sweetest, best of friends — you know you are all these to me."
Heart in his throat, Todd tried not to stare too much or let his mind short-circuit at the warmth enveloping his hands. This was commonplace for Neil: casual, friendly touches; he couldn't very well help it that Neil was so good at acting, so fitting for this role, the concern radiating off him felt real.
continue reading on ao3 :)
#the amount of parallels between this Orestes scene and them is UNREAL#please I’m actually so proud of this </3#dead poets society#neil perry#todd anderson#anderperry#neil x todd#todd x neil#todd and neil#dps fandom#orestes#pylades#dead poets fanfic#dps fanfiction#fanfic#anderperry fic#it’s rotten work#not to me not if it's you
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cym as shakespeare’s works
Antony and Cleopatra. @drunk-on-inejs-laughter
The Comedy of Errors. @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom
Julius Caesar. @the-sky-is-full-of-stars
King Lear. @rodion-raskolnikov-kin
Macbeth. @kazoo-the-demjin
The Merchant of Venice. @ds-umbrella-manufacturing-co
A Midsummer Night’s Dream. @saltyfortunes
Much Ado About Nothing. @wafflesandschemingfaces
Pericles. @twelve-kinds-of-trouble
Romeo and Juliet. @confused-as-all-hell
The Tempest. @sankta-chaosqueen
Twelfth Night. @iambecomeyourvillain
The Winter’s Tale. @thehalfbloodfreak
Everyone better be thankful not to have gotten Taming of the Shrew.
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