#yes modern internet is absolutely like this too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

opennwindows · 7 months

Note

If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?

If ya taking requests rn still?✨😇😊💖

Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs

A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!

btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy 😭😭 but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.

cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,

GENERAL

ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.

he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.

the link costume only appears when he’s in his ghost form. so for example, when he’s messing with someone on their computer he’ll appear as the canon BEN we’re most familiar with. when he’s just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.

contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.

ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.

lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.

ROMANTIC

you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendy’s? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.

“why would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.”

would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. he’s just EXTREMELY touchy.

he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.

after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of y’all showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers aren’t too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.

favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)

not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then he’ll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.

now let’s talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.

he’s probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.

ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.

the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. you’re gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else you’ll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.

a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.

please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.

pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.

big fan of late night make-out sessions. i’m talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each other’s faces with tongues down throats. if you don’t want his hands running over every inch of your body then you’ll probably have to chain him to the wall.

NSFW

okay. so he’s a little inexperienced with his hands. he’s just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!

ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.

i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-i’m-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.

definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but he’s more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. he’s pretty vanilla given his occupation.

despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this man’s mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous being on the planet and he’ll let you know it.

he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.

he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.

he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.

did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.

he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #celia reqs #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned smut #ben drowned x y/n #ben drowned x you #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned hcs #creepypasta headcanon

743 notes · View notes

imakatperson22 · 6 days

Text

I’m back with more thoughts:

(It’s long but I put a lot of effort into it so please read!):

I’m seeing a lot of concern for buddie’s canon potential from a network/business standpoint. People are worried it will be too much of a gamble for the network to go all in on buddie. Let’s break that gamble down:

(This is considering the sole factor of network strategy and not whether the actors are willing to do it or if the writer’s choose to go down that road. For the sake of argument, let’s say everyone is on board except network execs.)

Let’s start by looking at the environment of the television industry. Back in ye olden days, at the dawn of modern fandom, queer ships were not ever expected to be canon. Those who shipped them had this understanding and shipping largely remained a thought experiment or creative inspiration. It was always JUST FOR FUN because there were no meaningful consequences to it. In this era, it probably would’ve been a bad bet to introduce a queer love story because we hadn’t reached a place in society where it was not only tolerated but rooted for by a meaningful amount of a show’s audience.

Today is an entirely different ball game. Today queer people have gained enough power in society and proven they will consume media involving queer romance enough to make it profitable to include these plots. Today, we as a community have enough allies who also have a desire to see our stories told. Coupled with internet fanfiction and social media platforms, we now have the opportunity to engage in a pseudo dialogue with those who produce content. Now, shipping and fandoms have reached a point where our voices and our opinions do actually have weight to them. Now, we have the opportunity to affect change to a piece of media. We have somewhat of a say. There are now consequences to our actions.

It’s a risk, yes, to get the two (until recently, presumably heterosexual) main macho male leads together because of homophobia. But this show already has a lesbian couple. The viewers who will leave if buddie gets together because “the writer’s turned them gay” are probably not the same fans who are tuning in every week without fail to watch their favorite characters. They’re more likely casual viewers. They come and go, drifting in and out because it’s something to put on in the background or because the rescues are interesting. So yes, it’s quite possible viewers abandon the show due to buddie canon, but these fans were likely not a solid, dependable group in the first place.

On the other hand, it IS also a gamble to NOT make Buddie canon. This is the (flag)ship (flagship ship?) of the show. Not every loyal viewer ships them, but probably most do, and they do so strongly. If they shut the door on Buddie becoming canon, this will absolutely alienate a hefty chunk of the shows viewers as well. If they don’t walk the line close enough on the “will they, won’t they”, these fans will get frustrated with the lack of payoff and leave. Gone are the days where fandoms stay satisfied if the show tosses them a crumb, a wink in their direction, for their ship because now the option for more is on the table. We know the network knows what we want. We know they see us asking for it. Ignoring it in and of itself is a decision. Competition is stiff and if you decide not to capitalize on fans’ desire for queer romance, they have other options. If they choose to not make buddie canon, many of these viewers will also abandon the show. The difference is this group is the one who’s coming back every week for their love of the characters. This group is the one generating the hype on social media and flooding the internet with fan edits. This group also attracts viewers.

So. Here we are. Two decisions. Both will cost fans. How many fans? Who knows. But only one will also attract them. And that’s the thing. Keeping the status quo isn’t going to generate hype around the show. Only one decision will bring new viewers in. How many people have we seen online say “I’ve never watched this show before, but now that I’ve heard about it, I’m curious.” How many of you reading this came to this show for that reason? We’ve already seen this happen with the bisexual Buck storyline. The ratings for that episode are the highest in the season. The internet is abuzz about it.

Another unique position the show finds itself in is that all the groundwork for a Buddie storyline has already been laid. They could easily avoid falling into the trap of shameless bad fan service because the ball is already tee’d up. They just need to knock it out of the park.

I firmly believe that making buddie canon, if the story is told with skill and care, is the right bet. I believe that not making buddie canon is a greater risk to the show’s revenue. From a business standpoint, buddie canon is the better choice. Whether or not the network execs choose to do so remains to be seen, but I have hope.

If you’re still here, thank you for reading. Here’s a cookie as your reward 🍪.

52 notes · View notes

rayshippouuchiha · 4 months

Note

Ray, light of my days, yes I'm going to start all of my asks like this lmao

Today in broad daylight I got into an argument over how parasocial relationships replaced religion in the modern world (which is a hill I WILL die on) with a complete stranger, because they threw their ass into my conversation and I'm just that kind of lunatic.

So I'm pretty sure I'm right, because death threats, leaking information (sometimes information that can get the other killed) and all the other things I'm sure I don't have to introduce you to are the results of the same kind of blind adoration and needless cruelty that the cults of today and churches of... well, sometimes still today used and use to this day to kill, torture and exploit their own people or even people who have nothing to do with them. The same kind of blind following of the loudest idiot that got the Witch Trials and the Nazis going, just to give examples everybody knows. And I'm not even exaggerating about the severeness and seriousness of the cultism of it all.

And then you personally bobbed into my thoughts and refused to leave, like a particularly stubborn buoy outlasting a hurricane. Mostly because what you and us (your followers) have isn't really a true parasocial relationship.

You're aware of us, take the time out of your day to interact with us internet gremlins, you answer our questions and help us through emotional distress and we try to do the same. You're both one of us and the one we look to (sometimes) when we have something sad, or excited or any other to share.

What I'm trying to say is that you played in the dirty internet sandbox, made a castle out of - probably not completely, but who knows where's the sand's from- shit and opened the door to invite us in, made food for us and dined with us. We're here because you're one of us but also a little more.

You kind of became a Small Gremlin God of Small Gremlin Us without wanting to or knowing it and it's absolutely hilarious, because we're here with our ideas and questions and what else, like we're collectively some sickly victorian child asking mother for the last of the dessert and you let us have it because you know we won't last 'til the 'morrow.

In other words we're here wriggling around like salted slugs on their last breath chanting "ONE OF US! ONE OF US!" without noticing that you're chanting with us, you not knowing we're chanting about you and us not knowing you're in the crowd instead of wherever else you're supposed to be.

Just, it's really fucking funny and your character as a person makes a person think. In a positive way. Because I also absolutely love you and what you're doing here.

(AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! *mad scientist muttering* *overthinking on max*)

Sorry for the novel lol, idk how to stfu like usual😭

Also you made several good points and can I just say I deeply enjoy the little fox den we've all created here together. And I love you too and I enjoy your rambling.

#RayRambles

72 notes · View notes

featherwingfae · 2 months

Text

So the nonhuman theme of the day that I've been seeing on the Internet seems to be self doubt both due to internal and external influences.

My response to this theme is this. You are who you are. And no one can tell you who you are but you. (The rest of the post is pretty much just this^^ in way more detail than necessary. You have been warned lol. Buckle up this is gonna be a long one. Literally took all day to write 😅)

Most of us live in a society where we've been told since infancy who we are are and what we must be, and if we don't fit in the predesignated boxes then there must be something wrong with us and we just need to be forced into a box. But just think about the vastness of life for a second. From macro to micro there's just so much to everything it's breathtaking. Everything is layered. Why should one being's existence be any different. There is what is seen and then there is everything else. Some thing's don't need to be understood by others, because they are not there for others. They are simply there. Wether we understand them or not. And that in itself (I think) is quite lovely.

I am Fae. Not just because of ______. I am Fae because it is simply what I am. It's what feels right.

It's ok to just exist. It's ok to live without ever fitting into boxes or labels. And if you find a label or box that fits you, that's ok too. It's your existence. Do what makes you happy. I've also found that sometimes, finding that feeling that you fit somewhere, comes first and the reasons why come after. Be patient. I know it's maddening sometimes when you've got a million questions bumping about in your head, or even just one or two burning ones, but life is a journey. A mystery to uncover through experiences.

I could give you a whole laundry list of reasons why I can call myself Fae. But at the end of the day, the only reason I need is that it feels right. I don't need to act like the stereotypical Fae (from folklore, media etc), I don't need to have magical experiences, I don't need memories. Keep in mind that your nonhuman identity does not need to match anyone else's.

If you're a Fae who loves technology and finds the modern age fascinating. Guess what? There's nothing wrong with that. (I LOVE Minecraft 😁 Though that may or may not have to do with the fact that I get to fly around and build whatever I want from nothing. Yes I'm obsessed with creative mode 😅 I usually get bored in survival)

If you're a Therian who's never enjoyed being on all fours or who doesn't like gear. It doesn't make you any less Therian. Do what makes you happy 😊.

If you're some ancient entity and you use an ungodly (hehe) amount of emojis and/or abbreviations (ex. Lol, omg, etc) it doesn't make you any less ancient or awesome. Do what you enjoy. You are too old to not be having as much fun as you can experience. I'm also an ancient creature, you really think I want to spend my time not doing what makes the happy chemicals 😊✨👁️🪽😁.

If you're an Alien who's not obsessed with space stuff. That's ok. Human portrayals probably don't do it justice anyway, and there's so many other things to be interested in. Like have you seen mushrooms? Those funky little guys come in so many varieties it's absolutely delightful 😊🍄✨.

If you're a vampire who can't stand the sight of blood. Don't worry about it. I can almost guarantee you're not alone (plus there's a lot of different types of vampires. If you know you are/were definitely sanguine then you're still valid 😊).

If you're fictionkin and you're absolutely nothing like your fictionkin type/character. That's ok 😊. People often change with their experiences, it doesn't make you any less yourself.

That last one applies to most nonhumans identities in general honestly 😅.

If you're an angel that doesn't/didn't have big feathery wings. You are still an angel. The universe is filled with too much color and variety for me to believe that all ______ have the same or very similar designs. I've never heard of an angel with dragonfly or beetle wings. That doesn't mean they don't exist 🙃.

You can be a plant who loves salads, a placekin who hates going outside, an objectkin that doesn't use it/it's pronouns or is super expressive, a vampire who adores sunbathing or just sunlight in general, a carnivore that doesn't like meat, an avian that's afraid of flying or heights, a demon with a heart of gold, a deity with social anxiety and/or low self esteem, an herbivore that loves going hunting, a dragon who prefers minimalism, an aquatic creature who doesn't like water, a void that's constantly overthinking, you can match all the known stereotypes for your nonhuman identity or none at all. You can have phantom shifts constantly or never get any, you can have countless identities, you can have just one, you can remember your past life/lives in detail or remember nothing at all, you can believe in past lives and souls, or not, your identity can be psychological, physical, spiritual, etc.

It's s your identity. No one else's. Just because you choose to share yourself or your identity with someone else does not mean they own you or your identity. It is, was and always shall be, yours. (Btw please please please, be careful who you share your nonhuman identity with. Not everyone is going to "get it". And not everyone is going to accept it. Stay safe, mentally, physically, emotionally etc.)

They say names have power. They also say not all things are what they seem. Whatever your nonhuman identity looks like, only you can know what it truly is. Understand that I am not saying that the appearance of one's nonhuman identity should be dismissed altogether, especially when one is still questioning. I am saying, that we shouldn't rely solely upon appearances. If your nonhuman identity fits in the category of x as far as appearances go but x just doesn't feel like it fits, then chances are, you're not x, or there's more to it than just x. I've known I was Fae since right around 2019. However I doubted myself for a long time because as far as I knew Fae were "supposed to have insect wings" and on top of having big feathery wings, I have a lot of them. In fact many of my nonhuman features could be considered angelic. However I've never felt particularly comfortable identifying as an angel. It just never felt like the right fit. It took awhile but eventually after I'd already accepted that my "angelic features" didn't make me any less Fae. I remembered why I had those features to begin with, and it all just clicked into place.

It's ok to not have all the answers or even the correct answers right away. Life is experiences. From moment to moment you are who you are. Things may change, new truths may be revealed, that doesn't make you or your identity any less real. You are whoever you are right now. Wether that is someone/something from everything you have ever been or ever shall be or just one thing right now, unconnected to anything else. You are not fake for changing. You're not fake for not changing. Most have doubts about themselves about all sorts of things. To the point where it seems like doubt is just part of the human world experience (not saying it's only a human world experience, just that everyone here seems to doubt themselves about something or other) and perhaps working through our doubts is a lesson of this place, then again maybe not 🤷. In the end what you believe is up to you😊.

Now, I'm not expecting that this single post from a total stranger will erase all your doubts. Not at all. I didn't write it to erase doubt, but rather to give it a little bit of something to fight against. To plant just one more seed in the hearts and minds of others who might need it or whom it might help in any way. This post is far from the only one out there, fighting doubt in its many forms and faces. And what I've said has already been said in many times and ways. But it's my take and not everything will click with everyone. If this post helps even just one being, then it has served it's purpose. Each and every single one or plural of us is unique in our own ways. And I truly believe that's one of the most wonderful things about life as a whole.

If you've read this far, I apologize if I got a bit carried away and made this post longer than necessary but it means a great deal to me and things that matter to me are very difficult to "sum up" 😅. And if you follow me. I warn you now that most of my posts will probably be a bit lengthy if not extremely so.

And now my dear creatures, crawlers, beasts, beauties, hellions, heavenlies (no I don't care that that's not a word it is now lol), magicals, marvels, wonders, wanderers, wildlings, winged things, whimsies, and whatsits (and everything beyond and in between) I wish upon you a most wonderful day/night. May you always know/remember that your existence makes the world a more magical place. 🌍✨ (And in my opinion we could use all the magic we can get 😊)

👁️🪽✨🍄🍀🪻🌱🥀❄️🌟✨

Till next time.

46 notes · View notes

just-french-me-up · 9 months

Note

hey hi i'm buzzing with the need for dreamling fic recs if you would be so kind as to point me in your favorite direction pls pls pls

Oh friend, you asked and I shall ✨ deliver ✨

DREAMLING FIC RECS 🌻✨

of my misery make thy use by @qqueenofhades (Explicit - WIP - 129k so far - In Universe, but with some tweaks, Rescue fic) Dream is Roderick Burgess' prisoner, in all his silent, sullen, naked glory, and has given up on the thought of anyone ever helping him out of there. Even Hob Gadling. Especially Hob Gadling. In fact, he's quite sure the man never wants to speak to him ever again, regardless of his current predicament. A bummer, really, because he also happens to be married to him. (Listen that fic has slain me EVERY WHICH WAY, it has EVERYTHING, it will take you PLACES (literally), it's rewarding as fuck, has OCs to die for, just... just read it, ignore the WIP status, what's there is absolutely chef's kiss)

the unknown and static strange by @qqueenofhades (yes, again, listen, if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more bla bla bla) (Mature - WIP - 69K so far (nice) - Dubious AU status, Memento mets Academia, Modern day with a twist) Professor Robert Gadling, under cut rocking, weird dreams having, and trauma suffering, discovers a strange piece of undocumented art that seems to follow him everywhere he goes. The Regis Somnorum won't leave him alone, and as he tries to follow that thread, a whole mysterious tapestry unfolds, putting everything he knows, or thought he knew, into question. (This fic is a fucking delight, it's just KEEPS feeding you "oh shit" moments and suspense and revelations and the pacing just keeps you on the edge of your SEAT. Again, IGNORE the WIP status I BEG OF YOU, read it, devour it)

This Rough Magic by @avelera (Mature - WIP - 36k so far - Rescue fic with a twist) Hob Gadling never fancied himself a mage or a warlock, but dabbled enough in the occult to pick up a few tricks over the years, all in the hope to communicate with his Stranger. A stranger, he later discovers, who is trapped under Roderick The Fucking Magus Burgess's manor. Now, he may not be the best magic wielder there is.... but Burgess doesn't know that, does he? (There are some VERY clever things in this fic, everyone is written to a T, I love a fic where my loathing of Burgess can burn from the brightest flame and at the same time have him not like a cartoon villain but a full human being! Can't wait to see where that goes!)

if you just let me (have you, love you) by Lost_Elf (Explicit - 25k - Human AU - Adult Film Actors AU (I see you tumblr, restricting words these days, I see you) Both very prominent in their own niches of the Internet, Dom-BDSM-oriented Dream and Vanilla-centered Hob cross paths and plan what could be (or so their managers hope) the collab of the century. And they might learn a thing or two along the way. (Listen, I read this on a whim, I wasn't too into Human AUs at the time, I was up for some smut that day, and this fic is a LOT more wholesome than the subject lets on and really gripped me! Lots of very nice details in there! And also, you know.... smut)

by the minute by @issylra (Explicit - 11K - Human AU, Sex Phone Operator Dream) Dream has a bet with Desire : he has to manage a phone sex line for some time. He's not thrilled by it. Callers are... unimaginative and unoriginal, to say the least. Except one. He has a very nice voice. He's funny. And he sounds just about as lost as he is, in life. (The tags make it sound super raunchy but it's more about developping attraction through someone's voice and getting to know someone through the phone and falling in love and.... it's just lovely, it's very sweet, it's like a little blanket with a warm cup of tea, really)

Now I KNOW this is not what you EXPLICITELY asked for but.... dare I suggest..... something with an OC thrown in the mix? Cause that's just adding a fun player to the game, with added stakes, really!

as heart for heart, for loving me by @kittttycakes (hello darling) (Explicit - WIP but soon to be finished - 151k so far - Canon compliant - OT3 if there ever was one - How to polyamory, a guide for Dream of the Endless, a primordial being who needs to use his goddamn words) When Dream finds Hob at the New Inn, he's ready to open up a little. Be a friend. Be a little more than that, though he can't quite articulate it. The only issue with that is that Hob has a girlfriend. A live-in girlfriend. A very much serious girlfriend. Dream tries his darnest to hate her, and finds he can't quite bring himself to. (It's soft, it's lovely, it has angst, it has smut, it has fluff for days, it has developping relationships GALORE (plural) and it's just a nice read to switch up your rotation, cause the potential for situations is tripled now!)

#the sandman #sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #dream x hob gadling #fic recs #sandman fics #the sandman fics #sandman fanfiction #sandman recs #I'm waking my way through in the waking world we wait and we want cause i'm a fucking slow reader and it's a monster of a thing #but it's also v v v nice #my dyslexic brain is killing me but i'm still standing #anyway one day i'll make a rec of all the shorter e rated fics ive read for dreamling #cause there are a few and shorter fics also deserve a shoutout #you'll be BUSY dear asker #also thank you so much for asking me ????? idk where that came from but i'm FLATTERED #hope you havent read all of those already #but also that's me giving lil reviews to those writers cause!!! hey love yo work you know #also watch me write all those summaries and struggle to come up for ANYTHING when it comes to my own fics is2g #i'm the type of gal who reads one fic at a time so my reading list is fucking growing by the DAY

98 notes · View notes

a-random-whovian7 · 4 months

Text

*Doctor Who Spoilers*

So the 60th Anniversary specials have just finished and, for the most part, they were pretty good. David Tennant was as good as ever, the villains felt far more threatening than in recent years and Wild Blue Yonder was pretty close to perfect imo. But something has been lurking in the back of my mind since the final scene of The Giggle. Something that just hasn't let me enjoy the specials as much as I could

My problem is they fucked up 10's arc.

Now, as a person who absolutely loves the 10th Doctor’s era and story arc, 14 felt like a complete smack in the face. 10 was the most human Doctor, and his story is a brilliant deconstruction of who the Doctor is. Yes, he always tried to do good, but his hubris, vanity and selfishness led to his downfall, all of which was spearheaded by him losing Rose, driving Martha away, having to wipe Donna's memory and in the end having to sacrifice himself for Wilf. Was it tragic and sad? Yes. But not everything needs a happy ending. The fact that 10's mistakes came back to bite him was one of the many reasons why I loved that era so much, as whilst he was redeemed by sacrificing himself, his regeneration still held such an emotional impact due to the fact that he'd lost so much and had fallen from grace. It was sad, but it worked. It had weight because it was permanent. It was a unique arc in Doctor Who that should have been left alone.

But then 14 and the specials came along and kind of undid that. Turns out Donna was fine, she just needed to let the Metacrisis go. Turns out all 10 really needed was a holiday. Now he's had a happy ending, just relaxing whilst 15 goes and does all the hard work. Plus, it now means we have an excuse to call back David Tennant whenever we like (look, I love David Tennant and hold nothing against him, it's more the fact that Doctor Who has been blatantly using him as a crutch since 2019). The bi-regeneration also kind of robbed 14 of accepting death and allowing Ncuti to immediately take centre stage. 10's arc just feels cheapened in hindsight, as the weight of his actions isn't really reflected in him getting an "everything was right again" ending.

Of course, it's not all bad, and I'm probably just being incredibly picky. People seem to be really happy that 10 had a happy ending, and I wish I could fully enjoy that too. If we absolutely had to have this ending, then this is the best possible way to have it, it could have been done far more lazily. After all, not everything needs to be depressing and serious. Plus, I did like the specials overall and the fact that David Tennant managed to add more emotional weight to the Flux arc and play a far more experienced and mature Doctor. RTD screamed trans rights, mocked modern Internet culture and gave us the creepiest episode in years, all of which is absolutely fantastic. I just wish that RTD hadn't added more onto 10's arc and tied up the loose ends that didn't need tying up.

#doctor who spoilers #doctor who #doctor who 60th anniversary #rtd #rtd2 #rtd2 era #10th doctor #14th doctor #15th doctor #david tennant #russell t davies #ncuti gatwa #donna noble #doctor donna #doctor who discourse #tenth doctor

31 notes · View notes

budgie-city · 8 months

Text

THE ORIGINS OF BUDGIE CITY

Welcome to this informational article where I will be explaining what exactly this "Budgie City" is, where it came from, and in which direction it will be going. So, sit down comfortably - there are some interesting things waiting ahead of you! If you are interested in the lore, visit this article.

What exactly is "Budgie City"?

It is a fictional world that I am actively developing. At the moment, I’m in the process of writing it in the form of a paper draft. I write long texts by hand, and it seems to me that spelling out each letter, unlike typing, helps to approach the composition of sentences more thoughtfully, and to more successfully avoid strange and crooked constructions that will then have to be rewritten and corrected. It is far from the final, but I want to warm up people's interest in this world before the release of a full-fledged work, which is what I am doing now. I will not publish too many pieces of text until I have finished the story completely (though I probably will show some sneak-peeks). For now the content on "Budgie City" is mostly limited to drawings — concepts, sketches and character designs. Gradually, I've been starting to bring this topic to my YouTube channel in order to introduce the setting and concept to my viewers.

You may have seen my first video of Budgie City since 2014, which I have released quite recently — “I am not insane”, a video that focuses on one of the secondary conflicts of the story.

Where did this concept even come from?

It's quite a long story, and it's funny that this year is the ten year anniversary of me registering on the forum called "Budgie City". Yes, it all started with a regular internet forum — a by now almost extinct site format, which in the early 2000s and until about 2016-17 was the main place for interest groups on the internet. Now this has moved almost completely to social media, but before almost any hobby or interest had its own forum with different sections and topics. It saddens me a little that the golden age of forums has already passed.

In 2012, for the New Year, my parents bought me my first budgie — a classic green one, and I named him Gesha. At that time, I was not a regular "user" of the Internet yet. I only started to comprehend the vastness of the virtual network a few months later, and at first it leaned purely on me viewing memes in Google pictures and all sorts of videos on YouTube.

But in the spring of 2013, I discovered these wonderful things known as forums. And it was that point in time when I, having had a budgie with me for a year, decided to find a forum thematically fitting. Upon the request from my country, Google led me straight to the “Budgie City” forum.

The topics on there were something like rooms in a big house. The users randomly surfed through them and followed each other's daily lives. Therefore, Budgie City did actually feel really like being in a virtual society where everyone knows each other. I was getting used to the frequent people, getting to know each person individually. I went to their topics to write comments and answers, they wrote in mine. That's how we existed as this cozy club of interests.

There is an interesting thing with almost every child that is on the Internet — no matter where, in which community — a person with the admin/moder status is perceived as an absolute authority, any response from which causes awe and delight. And there were certain, more active and sociable admins in Budgie City — Anya under the nickname "Phoenix Bird" and Olga under the nickname "Olivka". The "Phoenix Bird" nickname spoke for itself — the image of a large bird of fire that walks around the city and receives admiring glances from everyone, was drawn in my head almost instantly. Olivka didn't have an image yet; I started turning her into a character much later.

Phoenix and Olivka in their modern designs (2022)

In the early summer of 2014, I read "Warrior Cats", and that’s where the whole story took off. I suddenly felt like I should become a writer too and write my own book. And 12-year-old me, who was spending 80% of my online traffic on the forum, decided to write a story, turning part of the admin staff and the budgies of familiar forum members into their own characters. Phoenix and Olivka turned into birds, the latter in particular acquired an image in the form of a wompoo fruit dove with olive-tinged wings, the budgies of the forum were also turned into their respective characters: Gesha and Yasha (mine); Glasha and Gosha (Hoatzin); Clementine, Jack, Fenya, Nira, Mouse, Castorka, Mithril and Small (Phoenix); Kuzya (Dmitriy68), Milana (Radujniy), Raisin (yyna) and others.

Sections of the forum have turned into parts of the city — the restaurant, the mayor's office, the registry office and nursery, and suburbs with parrots of other species, located on trees surrounding baobabs.

This is how the novel of the same name with the slogan "Feathered Metropolis" was born from the "Budgie City" forum. I posted it in its own topic, had about a dozen readers and, judging by the reviews, they all really liked reading the story. Although, looking back at the writing now... I wouldn't call it something breathtaking. Rather the opposite. But then again, I am now judging from the perspective of a third-year animation director student, and not the fifth grader I was at that time.

A couple of my original illustrations from 2014

The story was successfully brought to an end in about seven months, and after a while I started writing a sequel — however, the central conflict wasn’t thought out the slightest, so the plot quickly crumbled and was abandoned after several chapters.

Now the original text is lost in the vastness of the web — somewhere there is a piece of the prologue, somewhere even a couple of chapters. But the full version no longer exists — it was published only on the forum, and the said forum, unfortunately was — somewhere around 2019 — ruthlessly deleted from the Internet due to the desolation. All that's left of it are snapshots in the Wayback Machine.

Rewriting from the old version into a new one

In 2017, three years later, I made an attempt to rewrite "Budgie City" from scratch — leaving only the main conflict, the structure of the world, and the set of characters the same, to write a new text out of this "skeleton". Progress did not go beyond the prologue and the first chapter however, and rewriting was abandoned.

The same story with 2019 — a couple of pages, that’s all.

Two artworks from 2019

The next approach took till early 2021 to happen, when the original story turned almost six and a half years old. At that time I was already in the middle of my first year of animation directing at SPbGIKiT (Saint Petersburg State Institute of Film and Television). I wrote the prologue and part of the first chapter and went to proudly tell our master Galina Voropai about my "really cool" world. Galina interrupted me in the middle of the impromptu presentation, after which followed a forty-minute roast, thoroughly and in detail explaining that the "Budgie City" in its concept is a piece of junk that does not have the right to exist in its current form. And all this was in the presence of my classmates in the workshop. I gave up trying to defend myself halfway through, and when it was all over, I got up, quietly thanked Galina for a detailed objective analysis of the shortcomings of my project, went down to the first floor, huddled in a bathroom stall, and burst into tears.

It was the first (and yet the only) time in my life where I was literally crying over my work, and the girls from senior courses came to my howls, and we sat together on the windowsill of a public toilet. I was all red, shaking, and dropping snot, as they tried to calm me down.

(my mental state that day)

After that, I did not return to those written several pages for about a year and a half. I began to doubt whether I should continue at all or if it would just be a waste of time.

After the roast from the master, I went through all five stages of grief:

Yes, that was tough. But after so much time, I was finally able to evaluate the message of this scolding with a cool head and understand that most of the comments were actually really helpful - the conflict and the world did require a lot more careful study and rework. With the next approach, I wrote out all the conflicts, all the character motivations, and made a proper plan. And since the end of last autumn, I have returned to writing. Now I know where the story will begin, where it will head, and how it will end. All the actions performed by the heroes are finally based in actual logic. And, although Galina will not see the final result (she sadly passed away at the end of 2021), I hope that the new version will be one that she would have approved of.

A small FAQ:

Q: When will the book be released?

A: I don't want to make any promises as of now, because writing is a rather spontaneous and uneven process. I write more when I am inspired, and inspiration is impossible to predict. So the answer is simple — it will come out when it's finished :D

Q: Will it be released electronically or in a printed book form? Will I have to pay for reading it?

A: I plan to release the final version "Budgie City" in the same way as the old one — in open access, so that everyone can read it at any time. I will not charge money for reading the electronic version, but if there will be a demand for physical copies, I may release a small print run, which will cost money for those who want to get a copy. But it's a little early to think about that anyway.

Q: How does the world in Budgie City work? How do they live? What is the main conflict of the story?

A: All of this you can find out in this article!

Q: Where can I find more content to this world and story?

A: On this very blog or on my YouTube channel

I hope this article was helpful and informative enough for you to know where "Budgie City" comes from and in which direction it is currently heading. Thank you for reading!

Huge thanks to @annchanorsomethin for helping with translation of this article!

#budgie city #introducing post #information post #writers on tumblr #artists on tumblr #art #original writing #writing #info #lore article #article

69 notes · View notes

foiazoli · 8 months

Text

Going absolutely insane realizing that Anne McAffrey and Dragonriders of Pern got completely left out of the "origins of omegaverse" conversation even though it totally fits. So okay, omegaverse specifically is attributed to the supernatral fandom and the omegaverse wikipedia page claims the first fanfics with the trope pop up around 2010-2011 ish. The "History" section of the wikipedia page also attributes the laying the ground for this trope to appear for Star Trek's Pon Farr and Ursula Le Guin's kemmer, both of which appear in the late 1960's. You know what else appears in the late 1960's? The first Dragonriders of Pern book. For those unfamiliar with the series, let me lay out a few details that are a bit omegaverse-y.

When a dragon is ready to mate with another dragon, their rider also gets extremely horny, and will fuck the rider of whichever dragon mates with theirs, their actual feelings towards the other human involved be damned. (Is this extremely non-con-y? Yes. Is it adressed in text?... kinda? sorta? Not to the standards of the modern day reader, but it might have been enough at the time, I really don't know). Heats are frequently the central focus of omegaverse fic when the author is going for porn rather than complex exploration of gender roles.

The color of the Dragon acts as a sort of secondary gender, in that the color of the dragon applies certain social statuses to the rider, dictating what they can or can't do, who is or is not bullied, etc. This comes from the fact that the dragon's color is linked to it's gender, so Green and Gold are Female, Blue, Brown, and Bronze are male. The gender of dragon and rider usually matched in the beginning of the concept of dragon riders, but has diverged over time. As not all male green dragon riders (a common type of dragonrider) are gay, and no in-text dragons are gay, this leads to problems. And stereotypes. And problems. Sometimes of the rape variety. Frequently of the "well your dragon wants it so you do too" variety. non-dragonrider society (the majority of Pern) is overtly and violently homophobic, so you can see how this leads to many large problems, similar to how in omegaverse fic male omegas are frequently ostracized/looked down on

As mentioned in the points above, only the female dragons go into heat. They do this cyclically and predictably, so riders will frequently arrange to have their favorite partner nearby when the heat starts so that they will be taken care of. Another favorite of omegaverse smut writers.

Basically what I'm saying is if you're an omegaverse lover who is also interested in fantasy you have an extensive book series to add to your TBR list. And I can't believe nobody has pointed this out in a way that has stuck before, considering how well it lines up. Actually I can, I just remembered that Anne McAffrey was one of those authors who thought fanfic was evil and going to steal her sales and so fic of her books barely exists. From what I can find, it seems like fans instead turned to rp'ing on forums instead of writing fanfic, and a lot of those forums have been eaten by the changing of the internet and not archived anywhere. :(

#omegaverse #dragonriders of pern #anne mcaffrey #abo #a/b/o #They're such interesting books too. Omegaverse similarities aside #you can't tell me Pern's worldbuilding isn't batshit wild #the government is one part feudal lords one part dragonriders and one part bards #the bards are also the academics of the world but its still wild #its also the robots are the past dragons are the future scifi/fantasy mashup everyone claims to want #also the dragons teleport #and do timetravel #very fun

64 notes · View notes

alpaca-clouds · 1 year

Text

Medieval Food - Let's Talk

You know what? One week later and I am still fairly annoyed.

First of all: Yes, I am very much aware that technically one should not take MatPat too seriously and that for the most part if anything the “XY Theory” channels are just mild entertainment… But let’s face it: There are thousands of kids watching this, who are gonna take it seriously. And even a lot of adults, who do not know better.

So, as this is a topic near and dear to my heart and also a topic that the internet just throws around so much misinformation around on, let me talk a bit about Medieval Cuisine.

The Offense

Let me start with the thing that annoyed me so much, even though the issue is not so much about the issue at hand and more about the missing context in this one. Last week the @gametheoreoy sister channel Food Theory uploaded a video on Medieval Cuisine. While some of the information in there was good and included some important stuff that a lot of folks get wrong (like the fact that tomatoes, potatoes and maize were foods that came from the Americas and hence were not around in medieval Europe), the thing that annoyed me most about the video was… that MatPat and team absolutely ignored the fact that the place in question, medieval "Spain", was in that timeframe under under Black Muslim rule. In fact, there was technically no “Spain” at the time in question. Not as we imagine it today. Instead there was Al-Andalus (or Andalusia, how we know it today) and Leon-Castille. While the latter was Catholic, yes, the former was Muslim.

This really makes me angry, as it once again just plays into the misconception that medieval Europe was all white and Christian. Which it was not. For most of the medieval period, large chunks of the Iberian peninsula were under Muslim rule, which was also a reason that a lot of persecuted minorities – for example Jews, some Sinti and Romani people and also followers of Christian sects, that were not Catholic – fled there, as at that time Muslim rulers tended to not persecute those minorities, while the Catholic church did.

Now, it should be said that under Muslim rule, nobody who was not Muslim was forced to follow Muslim religious law, as not eating pork. But from what we know there was a lot less pork consumed on the Iberian peninsula at the time, than elsewhere in Europe. Instead, lamp, veal, dear and poultry were the more popular meats.

And I am sorry, MatPat, but talking about this part of Europe in the medieval times without speaking about Muslim rule is just a super bad look. Because it erases some important history.

While we are on it

But while we are on it, allow me to talk about Medieval cuisine, because bow, howdy, do people get this topic wrong.

For reference: No, I am no historian. But I am an autistic person, who spend a couple years hyperfixating on the history of food and henceforth getting annoyed with a lot of books, movies and the like, whenever they are depicting food in the medieval times.

Some things that I have seen in those contexts are, obviously, the tomatoes, potatoes and maize. But especially potatoes. Oh, boy, howdy, do people love depicting medieval folks eating potatoes. Maybe not surprising, given that the potato is in fact a main stay in modern day European cuisine. Also, obviously, the potato has still the reputation of a pauper’s food, which then easily combines with the common misconception of “people in medieval times were very poor and ate very poorly”. But, again, the potato would not reach Europe until probably 1519, though it would still be a while until people figured out how to eat potatoes (given that the green parts of the plants are in fact poisonous). Same goes for tomatoes, all sorts of peppers and again maize (corn, for the Americans).

Meanwhile people would go up to me and tell me seriously that “people in the medieval times did not have noodles”, which is… ridiculous, given that noodles and all sorts of pasta were around in Europe since ancient times. Even the old Greeks and Romans ate noodles, just not in those many fancy forms we know today. For the most part in medieval times people ate some sort of ribbon noodle, something we might call ravioli today, just noodles cut into square and something that was called lasagna, though it did not resemble today’s lasagna much. But noodles there were.

Another food that people do not associate with the medieval times, even though it was very much around in Southern European places, was rice. Other than the Americas, people kinda always knew about Asia and were trading with them. Even in Roman times. Which lead to the Romans actually cultivating a strain of rice, that did well enough in Europe. Now, while rice was not a common food in medieval Europe, it was certainly around.

Probably the weirdest thing, someone claimed about medieval food, was, that there was no “stew” around in medieval times, because it was “too complicated for the people back then”. You know, stew, the food where you basically just put a lot of different stuff into one pot and cook it… “Too complicated”. Honestly, I do not know what to say about that. Stew was not only around, but also very common. Especially as a lot of people did not have actual kitchens and were instead cooking their food over their fireplace, that often enough would only allow for one pot.

The thing about meat

One thing that MatPat gets mostly right – though, again not for Al-Andalus/Spain, because things were different there – is the bit about meat in the middle ages, though while he says the right thing here, he kinda misses a bit of context.

Meat was expensive in medieval times. Why? Because in a time before factory farming it was expensive to raise an animal. Some of you might’ve heard about “economy of scale”, which basically just says, that the more of a thing you produce, the cheaper it will become. And yes, this very much is true for factory farming. (Note: Factory farming is evil, simple as that. No living being should be treated the way, we treat those animals on factory farms.)

So, yes, without factory farms it was just more expensive to make the meat. Which was especially true for smaller animals like chicken. Especially as medieval chicken breeds were smaller than those chickens we see today.

Hence, for a lot of people, meat was just not a thing that they could eat more than once or twice a week. Or, more realistically, a lot of meat was eaten at once, when an animal was slaughtered, while only parts of the animal that could be conserved would then be served over a longer period of time.

It should also be noted that at least Christians tended to use all parts of the animal upon death, including blood and organs. (Muslims did not, as stuff like the blood is not halal.)

Now, one thing that should be noted, is, that most animals that were kept, were kept for multi purposes. Chicken lay eggs. Cows, sheep and goats give milk, with sheep obviously additionally providing wool, making them a very well-beloved animal in medieval times indeed. Horses you can ride. And yes, the pigs were useful, too, as they disposed of garbage, which was why in a lot of places you would just have pigs roaming the streets to take care of that.

Which brings me to the thing, a lot of folks do not want to hear, but… yeah, no, we have sources that tell us that medieval folks did at least also eat their dogs, when those were too old to help on the farm. We do not know how common this was, but we know that it happened. (Just as a note to the white folks getting all snooty about some Asian cultures eating dog meat.)

Of course, game was not kept but hunted. And yes, some people might go out to hunt when they were hungry for meat, but technically speaking it was illegal in many parts of Europe, based on the fact that game living in an area would belong to the nobility owning the land. Now, how those laws were enforced depended a lot on the area and how much game there was. But technically it was considered as such.

About vegetables

Having established that tomatoes, bell peppers, chilies and potatoes were not around in medieval times, this leaves the question: But what was around?

Well, two stable foods we still eat a lot today were definitely around: Carrots and peas. Especially peas were rather cheap and hence were eaten a lot. There was also at least one type of bean around in medieval Europe. Yes, only one. But horse beans were around in medieval Europe and were in fact eaten. Lentils were also quite popular.

Other than that, we also know of turnips, beets, cabbage, kohlrabi, onions and garlic being eaten. But that is not all, as there were several other types of vegetables, that are not around today that much, having been eaten. Especially a lot of root vegetables, like celeriac and parsnip for example.

But also fennel, that tends to be rather unpopular with modern people, was very much around and eaten.

One other vegetable that had some types around in Europe, was the pumpkin. Specifically, the gourd, that originated from Africa, but was cultivated in Europe rather early on.

Also there was a lot of salads and herbs, that also might be eaten as a form of salads.

But how do we know about medieval cuisine?

Another big thing that people tend to be kinda confused about, is, how we know what medieval people ate. Because, yes, at the time books were very expensive and a lot of folks could not read or write. While I will always harp on about the point that we greatly overestimate the number of completely illiterate folks in medieval times, as a lot of people were at least able to read a bit and write down the results of the harvest. But… written language was definitely not the main method of conserving information. Hence, there are only a handful of books around, that are primary texts and are collections of recipes. Most of them originate from noble or royal households, where the chefs would write down what the lord and lady of the house favored.

Other than that, we have a couple of letters, in which people shared their recipes.

But a lot of what we know “existed” is more from mentions within letters and diaries of “today I ate this and that” and historians then trying to figure out what that could have been, based around what we know about the foods that we know were available to the people. At times we also have findings of preserved foods. Now, of course those foods did not preserve for hundreds of years, but we can do chemical testing on what remained and hence figure out what originally had been preserved.

And of course there are pictures we have, that depict foods.

What we thankfully do have, is well documented harvests and things like ledgers from the likes of butchers and farmers based on the stuff they might have sold or given off as a form of taxes (which were often paid in goods, not coin). So, we know at least the raw materials and what might have been available.

And yes, there are also those kind of food that we know where around at ancient times and that are around in some form today. So, we can gather that they have been around the entire time. A good example for this are garlic bread and a version of pizza. We know that even in ancient times people baked bread with garlic butter and bread with vegetables, meat if available and cheese on them. It does not take a genius to figure out that bread with molten cheese on it, is pretty awesome.

Something I want to note as well is, that those recipe books we do have basically all originate from France, Germany and England, with two also originating in Italy. Medieval Europe was more than those four places. Which leads to my issue that a lot of folks tend to ignore that there were cultural differences and that, yes, we kinda are forced to rely on finds and maybe letters. (Believe me, as someone who writes about medieval Wallachia for my fics, it is a pain in the butt.)

But what did medieval people eat?

So, let me overgeneralize a bit. Because again, what you would eat in those times was dependent on where you were living and how wealthy you were. Richer people and nobility would eat meat a lot more often than less wealthy folks.

Generally poor folks would most of the time have some form of porridge for breakfast. That was: Oats cooked in water. If they could afford it, those might be cooked in milk. Maybe with honey. When it was the season, there might’ve been some fruits or nuts in there, too. But most of the times just oats in water. As oats were one of the cheapest forms of corn, they were good for that. Some people might use other corn like rye or barley softened in water as well.

If you could afford it, you might have head bread as well. For most folks it was a rye bread or rye sour dough, because rye was cheaper than wheat. This bread would not be eaten in slices, but rather eaten together with whatever was available. Maybe together with cheese. Maybe dunked in stew or soup. (Which, by the way, leads me to the fact that most taverns only served stew or soup with bread. Not “nice pork grilled over a fire” as we so often see it depicted in media.)

And yes, as a main warm meal there was stew and soup – vegetable soup for the most parts, because again: Meat was expensive. When there was meat in the soup, chances were, that It was all sorts of meats and in fact it was more likely that it would be hare or sheep, rather than pork or poultry. At times the same stew would be eaten for more than a week, with just new stuff being added, whenever it was half-empty, so you might actually get a mix of meats in there. (This was, again, also quite common in taverns, where people might just bring some stuff they had lying around and add it to the so called “everything stew”.) While it might sound disgusting to us today, it actually allowed for pretty deep flavor profiles.

Again, poor folks would often not have a dedicated kitchen or stove and rather would prepare their food over the fire place that was also used to heat the house. Which would lead to a lot of “one pot meals” as we would call it these days. And if there was meat, it often would be prepared as a larger chunk, instead of small cuts being prepared in a pan.

Of course, those were things that rich people could afford more easily. Though this did not necessarily mean nobility, but also folks like tradesmen and the likes. Who not only might have a dedicated kitchen, but also some maid to cook for them.

And there was of course the thing about spices: Medieval cuisine for the most part did not use spices, but only herbs. Because spices mostly originated in North Africa and South Asia and hence had to be traded over long distances. This would make them rather expensive, so many folks were not able to afford them. (Again: the entire colonialism affair started, because everyone wanted spices, while the Ottoman Empire controlled the spice trade.) This does, however, not mean that spice heavy recipes were unknown to medieval folks. They were expensive, yes, but we have both archeological and written evidence from meals, we would today call “curry” being prepared both in England and France.

Milk, no matter what animal it came from, would often be turned into some form of cheese, because most animals would only give milk, when it was season for their young. So, making the milk into cheese was a good way of making the milk last for longer. And yes, lots of folks knew how to make cheese. So, cheese was something that was often enough served to the side. Though dairy as well was not as common as it is today.

Wheat, again, was expensive. So, bread and other food based around wheat was more expensive than rye. Often wheat would only be enjoyed by rich folks and men of the cloth (meaning church folks). And only very rich people could afford white flour based food, while everyone else was eating food based around whole grain flour.

And yes, for the observant ones it should be obvious: Poor folks were eating a lot more healthy, than rich people were. Which led to interesting stuff like the fact that poor people often did not suffer from dental problems, even though dental hygiene was not yet a thing. Simply because they were eating better and less sweet.

Oh, and also: Most people would in fact drink alcoholic beverages (though with a lot less alcohol content than what we know today) instead of just pure water. Why? Well, because chances were, it made you less sick. And yes, also it tasted a lot better than stale water you got from a well. For most folks that was beer or ale, for richer folks wine or at least thinned wine. Except, again, in areas where there was a Muslim majority, because those obviously would not drink alcohol, so there would often be fewer breweries.

Medieval people did not eat badly

Now, let me make one thing clear, because it is a thing I tend to get annoyed by a lot: No, medieval people did not eat badly. Which was the other thing that annoyed me about MatPat’s video, given that the title card was “Medieval Food SUCKS!”, which… no, it doesn’t. It didn’t. It was different, from what we eat today, yes, but it was not bad food.

See, it is something that a lot of modern first world folks (especially white folks) are just too picky eaters and with that also kinda wasteful. We will only eat certain bits of dead animals, will not eat a lot of dead animals that are gonna die either way (heck, we have laws against eating certain animals, that are not based in any other reason but people’s emotional attachment to those animals), will not eat many vegetables that would be easier to grow and so on.

And sure, the fact that there was so little spice in medieval food, that makes it kinda… meh. But herbs can be used for those purposes, too. And yes, they can make things rather tasty indeed.

And yeah, I kinda bemoan the way we consume food today. Part of it has a lot to do with capitalism, of course. With the fact that we just do not have the time and means to grow our own food and the fact that of course, that to keep food prices low (which is necessary) but also keep the profits high, food production is plagued by all sorts of inhumanities. Be it slave labor, violence again humans (just look into the history of Chiquita or Dole) and of course the inhumane ways we keep animals.

A lot of folks do not even know how to prepare their own food properly. And do not know where it comes from. And as someone who identifies with the solarpunk culture, I just wish we could change away from that.

So, yeah, Let me just say: The MatPat video was just not that good and ignored an important part of history. Also, a lot of media depicts medieval food culture wrong, leading people to have all sorts of misconceptions about it.

Currently I am writing a fanfic about medieval cooking based around the Castlevania fandom. You can find it on Ao3! Though, yeah, the characters here are rich enough to eat spices.

And if you liked this little rant essay, maybe consider leaving me a little something on Ko-Fi!

#History #medieval cooking #medieval food #food theory #historical cooking #medieval europe #learning #education #middle ages #spain did not exist in the middle ages #white washed #white washed history #long reads #rant post #food history

114 notes · View notes

ruiniel · 2 years

Text

Another way - VIII

Summary: what if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what's more they can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Tags/CW: explicit language, depressive character, character-meets-world, modern AU, fantasy, depictions of violence

VIII.

You went ahead of yourself, of course. Lunch proved an affair swiftly forgotten with all the notes Adrian effusively scribbled your way, a verbosity (in a manner of speaking) you never expected of him, considering the grim and desperate moods he’s been teetering between until now.

Most of them, though, are unusual — but you went with it. If he truly suffers from some kind of amnesia, offering answers takes nothing away from you, but gives him a sort of comfort, as you’ve noticed. Or, at least, it makes way for curiosity instead of misery. And, for yet another unknown reason, seeing him animated, seeing the golden lights flare in his eyes (you’re waxing poetic, but they really are damn golden) feels like a Good thing. It feels… right. It feels like you’re giving something and, peculiarly, receiving in return (not that it matters).

Still, you haven’t forgotten the blood you saw on him at the cabin, were reminded of this when looking at the stains persisting on his drying shirt — also torn. You’d shown it to him, trying to make him understand it’ll need some mending before it’s of any use; at which point Adrian merely shrugged, took it from your hands and stuffed it in the rucksack you’d given him (now his).

But, the questions.

“How do the fast carriages outside work?”

“... You mean the cars. They’re either electric, or run on gas or diesel, or some are hybrids.”

“Does everyone have one? Are there flat roads everywhere here?”

“Not everyone, but many people do. The cars need the roads and highways, so yes.”

“Are the lifting devices in the corridor electric?”

“... a lot of things are.”

“Like the cold storage you keep in your home.”

“Yes, like that, and most everything else.”

“And this flat rectangular machine you’re using to translate?”

“The phone. Yes, that too.”

“Are there other tomes beyond the distance mirror you were writing on earlier?”

The. The what? You decide to try:

“With the internet, you basically can get knowledge on most topics in existence nowadays, if you know how to search.”

“... the internet?”

And on, and on, about the most basic things, all of which are absolutely random questions concerning some of the basic functions or origins of average, everyday items, and some of your answers spawn even more questions; which you also answer, and the exchange is slow but the look on his face, the beams of understanding lightening his pale, sickly features, drives you onward against your will.

You sit facing each other at the small table in your kitchen corner, heads close together and eyes darting between that agenda and your phone, ‘talking’ this way until the grumble of your stomach and a look out the window shows the day’s given way to dusk. You have your own questions but entertained the barrage coming from him for now, all the while thinking and seeing no whisper of a solution as to his — and your — predicament about his stay.

You look back at Adrian, then type in: “Dinner time already. It’s chilly outside. I guess you’ll need your coat. It must’ve dried by now.”

You get another ‘Gratitude’ for that, head bowed and hand to his chest — weird, but strangely fitting for him? His countenance is not that of a lost waif any longer, though by all means there’s a shadow, a haunting about him, if you didn’t know better. Like he’s constantly drowning in hardening cement, flailing and gasping for air that does not come.

You know the feeling all too well, unfortunately, but you have the added advantage of knowing who you are, or at least who you used to be.

Shaking out of such sinking thoughts is easy now, though, and the crossing of the significant barrier between you and your guest feels like a reason to celebrate. So, you opted to try going out for dinner, after all. Pay day’s tomorrow, anyway.

You change quickly and pluck his long dark coat from the drying rack you’d moved on the small balcony facing the main street (the clothes dryer downstairs is broken) only to turn—

“FUCK!” you squee, as undignified as suddenly bumping into someone could make you. “Shit, you really have to stop doing this,” you mumble, finding your palms pressed against his chest as you’d turned and slammed right into Adrian. You’re amazed at the strain in his body, quickly removing your hands as you regain balance.

You stare up at him.

But Adrian’s not looking at you. His gaze roams far away, across the city, over the tall buildings like looming giants in the night, over the reddening tint of light pollution drowning out the stars; over the horizon. His mouth has fallen open and it would be comical, if it weren’t doubly worrying.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly the nicest sight,” you say as you make way for him to step onto the balcony.

He does, walking as if in a trance, hands propped against the stone edge, and you watch from the entrance as his head sinks low between his shoulders.

“Adrian?” you ask after a few minutes of stillness, during which you’ve felt as though you were observing a statue, or one of those decorative grotesques you’ve seen during your research in art class. Though, in all fairness, ‘grotesque’ is by far the least appropriate word to describe him.

You hear a long sigh, then he fluidly turns around with something you can only describe as innate elegance, reaching for the coat you’re still holding, thanking you again with a nod. His eyes hold that burden of loss and despair again, which you should definitely not care about.

You don’t.

Adrian follows you back inside, his silence returning; no more questions. But, he takes special care to tuck the agenda and pen in his coat pocket, looking up as you put on your shoes — he gets it, and so does the same, before looking back expectantly at you.

“No car this time,” you write. “We’re going to a place I know for dinner, on foot.”

Another nod.

You turn without further comment and soon you take the streets, your tall adage walking by your side, extremely interested in the neon signs, the cars (again) rushing by, the people gliding on Segways; turning at nearly every car horn honking.

“Here’s the place,” you say, pushing open the door of a local Italian diner, one that’s been flourishing here since the 1980s.

Adrian glances around at the people, the arrangements, the tables, following you when you take a seat, then cautiously does the same.

You see him taking out the agenda.

“Where are we?”

“We’ll eat here. Italian place. The food is good.”

“Do you know everyone here?”

Some assumption. “No, just some of the staff. Why?”

He taps the pen against the agenda after reading your reply, then shakes his head as though to say ‘no matter.’

You try to help him with the menu using the internet, showing him the dishes on your phone and after a few minutes of painstaking research Adrian shrugs, then raises both hands towards you in the universal ‘whatever you decide’ gesture.

“You’re getting what I’m having, then. Hope you have no allergies,” you mumble with a raised eyebrow just as the waiter comes to take your order.

“Greetings, who do we have here?” Marcus says, a young, spritely man who’s in business school and became an acquaintance since you started living in the area.

“Hi, Marcus,” you smile, and spend the next five minutes in a soft chit chat which ends with you ordering and Marcus leaving, not before throwing a swift glance Adrian’s way.

But Adrian is watching you, with curiosity and something else you can’t quite define.

It’s a quick affair, the meal — not least because of the silence, during which he actually eats something this time.

“My cooking is really that bad, huh?” you ask with half a smirk on your face (what’s gotten into you?), at which Adrian raises those golden eyebrows again and reaches for the agenda.

“No, it’s… it’s okay, no need,” you press onto his hand, smiling and shaking your head before your brain catches up with your action; Adrian stills, and so do you because, because—

“You’re as cold as death,” you murmur, but quickly retrieve your hand remembering personal space and how it means different things to different people.

Adrian’s hand hasn’t moved from the table; he stares at it as though seeing it for the first time, frowns, and another flash of uneasiness, or rather unrest crosses his face, and he becomes… jittery: his leg is twitching beneath the square two-seat table and you know this because the surface is vibrating with it, and he pulls at loose strands of his hair with one hand, staring listlessly ahead.

“Hey, we can go, all right?” you say, then tap quickly into your phone: “I’ll go pay. You can wait outside.”

Adrian barely glances at the words, then springs to his feet, turning and leaving the diner without looking back.

“... all good?” Marcus asks as he passes by with some plates.

“Yeah,” you lie, wondering what all that was about. “Yeah, all good.”

When you step outside, you see him standing with his back to the diner, hands plunged in his coat pockets. His gaze is set on the dirty gray sidewalk, his long hair partly shielding his profile. Like this, he awakens memories of lone, bedraggled heroes fighting against the fates from the fantasy novels you’d read throughout your teenage years and beyond, but of course, that’s a silly thought. “Let’s go back,” you say.

Adrian looks your way, understands. One thought nags you: he did not have the look of one lost and confused mere moments ago, but of one deep in thought, ruminating over troubles plaguing them for a long while.

Either way, the agenda method won’t be of much help in this, you ponder as you walk side by side, into the night, beneath broken street lamps that wink erratically in an intermittent sequence.

“Let’s go this way, it’s a shortcut,” you say after a while, gesturing and taking a right through an alley.

There’s fewer people around at this hour. It’s just the two of you, and another pair ahead, coming from the opposite direction. The silence is more prominent here, and the sounds of your steps ricochet against concrete walls.

You glance sideways at Adrian, finding him staring ahead, hands fisted at his sides — at least he left those gloves at home, though in this coat he still looks ever so slightly out of place.

“I know, this is probably not among the greatest days of your life,” you say, needing to hear yourself talk again, looking absently at the pair nearing you. “I really hope—”

Someone bumps into you, hard. “Hey!” you turn, but your words die on your tongue as you stare at the sharp end of a gleaming dagger; pointed at you?!

Oh yes, it’s pointed at you all right. The guy holding it is tall, wears a cap hiding his eyes, and gestures at you, then Adrian. “This can go both ways, pigeons. All up to you.” He speaks in a low, guttural voice, and you take a step back, bumping into Adrian. Behind him, the other person — another guy by the looks of it, holding another weapon poised to stab.

Well, shit. “We don’t want any trouble,” you try. What the fuck-what the fuck-what the fuck.

“Neither do we,” the first man says. “Hand over any jewelry, phones and wallets, and you’re free to go. Both you and Pretty boy over here. C’mon, don’t have all night.”

You glance up at Adrian, finding him… you don’t exactly know what to make of it, but he looks… completely aloof, untouched by the panic gurgling up your throat, surging through your limbs. You’d never seen him this way before; it distresses you even more than the clusterfuck you’ve apparently landed in just now.

Bad, this is bad. “He doesn’t have any of those things, and trust me, there’s not much on me either,” you say, raising both palms in a warding gesture. “Look, let us pass and that’ll be the end of it. No charges, nothing.”

“... or what?” the mugger behind Adrian asks. “Legs here’ll seduce us with his pretty hair? Move.”

Adrian says something then, and your head swivels up to look at him.

His eyes are. Frightening. Cold, empty. And that frown? In the haggard yellow light spilling through the alley he looks nothing short of menacing, which, of course, does little to diminish your shocked surprise.

You pull at his arm imperceptibly, but he won’t look at you. His gaze is set on the first attacker holding the dagger.

“... what the fuck is he saying?”

“I… I don’t know. Please, we just want to go home.”

“Don’t we all,” the first mugger says — and grabs you by the wrist.

He doesn’t get to do much else.

Next you know his hands are off you, and he’s screeching in pain with Adrian’s hand around his forearm; he stabs.

“No!” you yell, uselessly, but apparently the asshole missed because his other hand is now trapped in Adrian’s grip, and it’s all happening so fast but the guy’s groan turns into a wail with the pressure of that grasp on his hand, and you hear a nauseating snap before the dagger drops with a metallic clank onto the filthy pavement.

The other mugger swipes at you; you barely avoid the blow, all under the blood-curdling cries that echo through the alleyway.

“Let me go, you fucking freak—” one begs, fallen to his knees even as Adrian releases him, and you barely get to see what’s happening before mugger #2 literally flies and strikes the wall behind you, then falls limply into the dumpster placed against it.

You’re left gaping at Adrian staring down the first attacker, taking one step towards him.

He’s already scrambling away; turning on his knees, cursing as he rises, falls, then rises again and runs off. He never looks back.

Your breath is warring with your heart. You can’t fathom what just happened, or how long it took.

Adrian glances your way, composed, looking mildly bothered at best by everything. He nears you.

You take a step back.

Adrian pauses, the icy expression from before already melted from his countenance, making way for regretful uncertainty.

Think, think. He just prevented this from getting worse. Good. He just beat the living crap out of those guys.

...Bad?

Is it?

You’re not sure how you feel about that, standing there as Adrian approaches, doing nothing when he places both hands on your shoulders.

The pressure awakens you from your dumbstruck state. “I’m fine,” you choke, answering the look in his eyes; one of disarming sincerity.

And as you allow yourself to be gently nudged and led forward, as you continue your walk until you leave the alley behind, your body loses its tension, your mind stops being a blank, making way for two thoughts playing ball inside your head (violently):

What the fuck just happened?

and

Who exactly have you taken into your home?

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X

Want to be added to the taglist for updates? Let me know.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

#alucard x reader #alucard castlevania x reader #adrian tepes x you #adrian tepes x reader #castlevania x reader #ruiniel:fanfiction #x reader #alucard x you #another way

175 notes · View notes

moa-broke-me · 1 year

Text

PJO characters and what I think their music tastes are (by the way, the internet? No longer an issue for the purposes of this post)

Rachel Elizabeth Dare: Oh, she's cool. Her playlist is made up, almost entirely, of artists you've never heard of until just now. Think about it, she's in New York City, so many talented people are prowling for a chance to strike it big, and as a rich person, she feels she owes it to them to give them a chance, and if she likes them, to endorse them publicly. She's canonically part of the avant-garde performance art scene, so this really isn't much of a stretch.

Percy Jackson: I think he tells people he likes Jimmy Buffet and other people like him, and he does, especially 'brandy you're a fine girl', mostly for nostalgia's sake because Sally used to play that on long road trips, so it's not a lie. But it feels like one. He knows that when people ask that question, they're trying to figure out what kind of person you are, and wants to convey that he's just this easygoing guy, y'know? Easy, breezy, beautiful, covergirl. Harmless and unassuming and kinda goofy, not much going on under the surface. But there IS a lot going on under the surface, he IS angry, and listens to a lot of angry, angsty music. Smashing Pumpkins, Insane Clown Posse, that kind of thing. But if you hand him the aux, he's not gonna play any of that personal shit for you unless he really trusts you.

Annabeth Chase: She's that girl that pretends not to like pop music because she doesn't wanna come across as a vapid airhead, but she's also learned that answering 'classical' won't win her any cool points, so she caves and just says she doesn't have a preference. Most of the time she's listening to music, it's not even like... With intention. She's just listening to music because she can't clean her room in silence. And for the most part... Yeah it's Taylor Swift. With some Journey and Bo Burnham thrown in there for flavor. Although she does have some weird things in there picked up from the weather reports on welcome to nightvale, because she's a podcast girlie.

Nico diAngelo: I think his time in the casino has exposed him to a dizzying variety of music in really quick succession, meaning he's very open-minded and genuinely will listen to just about every genre, every era, at least once. Also, he doesn't think to catagorize by genre, or even vibes, he just puts them all into the same playlist the minute he finds out they exist. Dean Martin, Will Wood, and everything in between is home in his playlist.

Hazel Levesque: Hazel, on the other hand, was dead for all that time. So while she's open to new music, she hasn't had the opportunity to adjust to this generation's sonic landscape, so she mostly prefers the classics of her time, or modern music that tries to recreate that sound. Think 'I will always think of you' from the Bojack Horseman soundtrack.

Will Solace: He loves Dolly Parton and the Dixie Chicks with his whole Texan heart. His playlist contains mostly that, and some of his mom's work too, although he feels a little weird listening to it because, like, that's his mom. It feels weirdly personal to share that with other people, but it's nice too, having that closeness with people. He's more open than Percy, more willing to be vulnerable with the people he loves, because he doesn't see his authentic self as something to hide.

Piper McLean: She's a theater kid through and through. Yes, once upon a time, she wanted to be just like daddy. And she loves, absolutely loves, belting her heart out to the entire soundtrack of whatever musical she couldn't get out of her head. Last week it was Twisted, this week it's West Side Story, next week, who knows?

(If there's anyone you want me to cover, just ask!)

#pjo #hoo #rachel elizabeth dare #percy jackson #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #hazel levesque #will solace #piper mclean

57 notes · View notes

withasideofshakespeare · 1 year

Text

A Rundown on the Absolute Chaos that is First Quarto Hamlet

IMPORTANT UPDATE: This post may be getting a revamp with better citations—my cross-checking source was scrubbed from the internet entirely???

I said I was going to sleep before writing this. I did not. Here it goes anyway!

TL;DR: Multiple versions of Hamlet were printed between 1603 and 1623. Across these multiple texts, we get some fairly major differences in characterization and plot disparities. The First Quarto is most infamous for its oddness- which includes shockingly brief soliloquies, mother-son bonding, wild spellings of everyone’s names, and deleted/adapted scenes with major plot/character implications.

A full (long!) rundown is below the cut, including sources, transcribed Q1 content and lore, further Hamlet lore, and my fan theories! Feel free to skip the bits you don’t care about, I got way too into this.

Note: *I have updated these lines to their modern spellings for ease of reading

What is the First Quarto? What’s a “quarto”? Who wrote this?!

All pressing questions, my dear dedicated fan of William Shakespeare’s hit play Hamlet!

The First Quarto was published in 1603 and was (presumably, as implied by the name) printed as a quarto (a little book created by folding printed pages into four leaves- eight pages). It is much shorter than the later publications and is presumed to be transcribed from memory by an actor (probably the guy who played Marcellus), who may have been a member of a touring troop of actors performing the play.

Q1 is not necessarily considered a first draft of the play, but something of a “pirated” (by memory) copy that was later amended by Q2 and F1.

Are you saying that Hamlet comes with the stageplay equivalent of a “deleted scenes and extra credits” movie disc?

Yes! And not just one, but many: Quartos 1-5, the First Folio, multiple foreign language versions, and more! Your typical modern copy of Hamlet is a combination of the Second Quarto and First Folio.

Q2 (published in 1604 or 1605) is considered more “Shakespeare-accurate” than Q1- it seems to be a manuscript actually written by Shakespeare combined with an edited version of Q1′s Act 1 text rather than just some guy’s memory of the play. F1 was published much later (1623) and is some combination of another playhouse manuscript and possibly Q2 (but which—Q2 or the manuscript—had more influence in the creation of F1 is unclear). Q2 and F1 have tons of differences in wording and each has some content that the other doesn’t, but what you need to know here is that a typical modern script is an F1/Q2 combo (because editors didn’t think the public would want like six different scripts- fair enough.)

Quartos 3-5 are slightly edited versions of Q2. There seem to be a few other versions in different languages (like the German version) which share points from a variety of the above sources.

So... Q1? How is it any different from the version we all know (and love, of course)? What do the differences mean for the plot?

We’ll start with minor differences and build up to the big ones.

First of all, the language! Everything is spelled to the discretion of the transcriber, which produces gems such as “for England hoe.”

These spelling differences also extend to the characters! Laertes is “Leartes”, Ophelia is “Ofelia”, Gertrude is “Gertred” (or sometimes “Gerterd”), Rosencrantz is “Rossencraft”, Guildenstern is “Gilderstone”, and my favorite, Polonius gets a completely different name: Corambis.

(This goes on for minor characters, too. Sentinel Barnardo is “Bernardo”, Prince Fortinbras of Norway is “Fortenbrasse”, Voltemand and Cornelius- the Danish ambassadors to Norway- are “Voltemar” and “Cornelia” (genderbent Cornelius?/hj), Osric doesn’t even get a name- he is called “the Bragart Gentleman”, the Gravediggers are called clowns, and Reynaldo (Polonius’s spy) gets a whole different name- “Montano”.)

The stage directions include more detail! Ex: Ophelia enters in Act 4 with a lute to play along to her song of insanity. (*Enter Ofelia, playing on a lute, and her hair down, singing). (Some bits are missing direction though! In Act 3, when Hamlet calls upon Horatio to watch Claudius on the night of the play, there is no instruction for Horatio to enter the scene. He appears without being asked.)

There is a slight reordering of scenes in Act 3. Claudius and Polonius go through with the plan to have Ophelia break up with Hamlet immediately after they make it (typically, the plan is made in early II.ii and gone through with in III.i, with the players showing up and reciting Hecuba between the two events). In this version, the player scene (and Hamlet’s conversation with Polonius) happen after ‘to be or not to be’ and ‘get thee to a nunnery.’ I’m not sure if this makes more or less sense. Either way, it has minimal impact on the story.

Many lines, especially after Act 1 are considerably altered or shortened. Everyone is a lot more straightforward and (sometimes) a lot less iambic pentameter-y and poetic. A few examples: Laertes’ usually long-winded I.iii lecture on love to Ophelia is shortened to just ten lines (as opposed to the typical 40+). Polonius (er... Corambis) is still annoying and incapable of brevity, but less so than usual. His lecture on love is also cut significantly! Hamlet’s usual assailing of Danish drinking customs (I.iv) is cut off by the ghost’s arrival. He’s still the most talkative character, but his lines are almost entirely different in some monologues, including ‘to be or not to be’! In other spots, however, (ex: get thee to a nunnery!) the lines are near-identical. There doesn’t seem to be much rhyme or reason to where things diverge linguistically.

And then the big differences: the additional scene and Gertrude’s promise to aid Hamlet in taking revenge. Act 3, scene 4 goes about the same as usual with one major difference: Hamlet finishes off not with his usual declaration that he’s to be sent for England but with an absolutely heart-wrenching callback to act 1, in which he echoes the ghost’s lines and pleads his mother to aid him in revenge. And she agrees. Here is that adapted scene (without line breaks for some reason- ah, formatting!):

*Gertrude: Alas, it is the weakness of thy brain which makes thy tongue blazon thy heart’s grief: but as I have a soul, I swear by heaven, I never knew if this most horrid murder: but Hamlet, this is only fantasy, and for my love forget these idle fits.

Hamlet: Idle, no mother, my pulse does beat like yours, it is not madness that possesses Hamlet. O mother, if you ever did my dear father love, forbear the adulterous bed to-night and sun your self by little as you may, in time it may be you will loathe him quite and mother, but assist me in my revenge and in his death, your infamy shall die.

Gertrude: Hamlet, I swear by that majesty that knows our thoughts and looks into our hearts, I will conceal, consent, and do my best what stratagem so ever thou shalt devise.

Hamlet: It is enough mother, good night. [to polonius] I’ll provide for you a grave who was in life a foolish and prating knave.

*exit Hamlet with Polonius’s body*

Despite having seemingly major consequences for the plot, this is never discussed again. Gertrude tells Claudius in the next scene that it was Hamlet who killed Polonius (Corambis, whatever!), seemingly betraying her promise.

However, Gertrude’s admission of Hamlet’s guilt (and thus, betrayal) could come down to the circumstance she finds herself in as the next scene begins. There is no stage direction denoting her exit, so the entrance of Claudius in scene 5 may be into her room, where he would find her beside a puddle of blood, evidence of the murder. There’s no talking your way out of that one…

And now the most drastic change: the bonus scene. After IV.vi (act 4, scene 6), (but before IV.vii) comes this scene*, in which Horatio informs Gertrude that Hamlet was to be executed in England but escaped. Here it is with modern spellings but without line breaks (man, I hate formatting things!)

Enter Horatio & Gertrude

Horatio: Madam, your son is safe arrive’d in Denmark. This letter I even now received of him, whereas he writes how he escaped the danger and subtle treason that the king had plotted, being crossed by the contention of the winds, he found the packet (letter) sent to the king of England, wherein he saw himself betray’d to death, as at his next conversion with your grace, he will relate the circumstance at full.

Gertrude: Then I perceive there’s treason in his looks that seemed to sugar o’re his villainy: but I will sooth and please him for a time for murderous minds are always jealous. But know not you, Horatio, where he is?

Horatio: Yes, madam, and he hath appointed me to meet him on the east side of the city to-morrow morning.

Gertrude: O, fail not, good Horatio, and commend me a mother’s care to him, bid him a while be wary of his presence, lest that he fail in that he goes about.

Horatio: Madam, never make doubt if that: I think by this news be come to court: he is arrive’d, observe the king and you shall quickly find, Hamlet being here, things fell not to his mind.

Gertrude: But what became of Guilderstone and Rossencraft?

Horatio: He being set ashore, they went for England and in the packet there writ down that doom to be performed on them pointed for him: and by great chance he had his father’s seal, so all was done without discovery.

Gertrude: Thanks be to heaven for blessing of the prince, Horatio, I once again take my leave, with thousand mother’s blessings to my son.

Horatio: Madam, adieu.

If Gertrude knows of Claudius’s treachery (”there’s treason in his looks”), her death at the end of the play does not look like much of an accident. She is aware that Claudius killed her husband and is actively trying to kill her son and she still drinks the wine meant for Hamlet!

Now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for! My thoughts! Yippee!

Clearly, my favorite gift this Christmas was my copy of The Riverside Shakespeare, gifted to me by my grandma. I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again now that reading this is an option. (This play has me head-over-heels, goddamn!)

Anyway, here are my thoughts on Q1 (as abridged as I can get them, seeing as this post is already nearly 2,000 words long.)

On Gertrude: WOW! I’m convinced that she is done dirty by First Folio and Q2! She and Hamlet have a much better relationship (Gertrude genuinely worries about his well-being throughout the play.) She has an actual personality that is tied into her role in the story and as a mother. I love Q1 Gertrude even though in the end, there’s nothing she can do to save Hamlet from being found out in the murder of Polonius and eventually dying in the duel. Her drinking the poisoned wine seems like an act of desperation (or sacrifice? she never asks hamlet to drink!) rather than an accident.

On the language: I think Q1′s biggest shortcoming is its comparatively simplistic language, especially in ‘to be or not to be’*: (again with the formatting!)

Hamlet: To be, or not to be, aye, there's the point. To die, to sleep, is that all? Aye, all: no, to sleep, to dream, aye, merry there it goes. For in that dream of death, when we awake, and borne before an everlasting judge, from whence no passenger ever returned, the undiscovered country, at whose sight the happy smile, and the accursed damn'd. But for this, the joyful hope of this, who’d bear the scorns and flattery of the world, scorned by the right rich, the rich cursed of the poor? The widow being oppressed, the orphan wrong'd, the taste of hunger, or a tyrants reign, and thousand more calamities besides, to grunt and sweat under this weary life, when that he may his full quietus make, with a bare bodkin, who would this endure, but for a hope of something after death? Which puzzles the brain, and doth confound the sense, which makes us rather bear those evils we have, than fly to others that we know not of. Aye that, O this conscience makes cowards of us all.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s good, but it doesn’t feel quite complete, which makes sense for Q1- that’s the vibe I get overall from this version: it’s Hamlet at an earlier point in the play’s journey to becoming its modern renditions and compilations.

On the ending: The ending suffers from the same effect ‘to be or not to be’ does- it is simpler and (imo) lacks some of the emotion that F1 later emphasizes. Hamlet’s final speech is significantly cut down and Horatio’s last lines aren’t quite so potent- although they’re still sweet!

*Horatio, to Fortinbras and co.: Content yourselves, I’ll show to all, the ground, the first beginning of this Tragedy: Let there a scaffold be reared up in the marketplace, and let the State of the world be there: where you shall hear such a sad story told that never mortal man could more unfold.

Horatio generally is a more active character in Q1 Hamlet. This ending suits his character here: He will tell Hamlet’s story, tragic as it may be. It reminds me a bit of We Raise Our Cups from Hadestown.

Overall, I loved reading this version and highly encourage you to do the same! (Two PDFs are linked below!) The spelling is hard to overlook at times, but if you can get through it, this is a fascinating interpretation of the same Hamlet we love and it’s worth a read! There’s so much more I want to get into but I absolutely must sleep, so adieu for now!

And finally, my sources:

The Riverside Shakespeare (pub. Houghton Mifflin Company; G.B. Evans, et al.)

Q1 PDF (Internet Shakespeare) https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/Ham_Q1/complete/index.html

***THIS SOURCE NO LONGER EXISTS.*** Q1 PDF (STF Theatre) https://stf-theatre.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/HAMLET-%E2%80%93-the-1st-Quarto.pdf (cross-reference for lines)

#Hamlet #shakespeare #first quarto hamlet #oh man i am tired #definitely entered my unhinged college student era #classical literature #you will be the death of me!#this will be edited for clarity and punctuation later

92 notes · View notes

starstruckunknown-princess · 1 year

Text

Winter Market

Pairing: Modern!Robb Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Word Count: 1067

Summary: While running your own stall at a Winter Market, you run into an old schoolmate of yours -- none other than Robb Stark.

A/N: A day late, but I had to edit this one and I was distracted yesterday. My bad. But expect either one more tonight or two tomorrow to wrap up my Fluffcember event! Hope you enjoy this one!

Fluffcember Masterlist

The Winterfell Yuletide Market was famous throughout the realm, boasting some of the most unique and talented craftspeople from all over the world. They also had a section reserved for local artisans only, which is where you found your stall. After your rocky divorce you’d taken up soap and candle making as a hobby to keep your mind and hands busy. You’d even looked into getting a hive of bees for beekeeping, but it had been too late in the season to have them shipped from Honeyholt.

You were lucky to get the stall, which you had to keep reminding yourself as the temperatures dipped into the negatives. The sad little space heater under your table could barely keep your feet warm. Being a born and raised Northerner, though, you weren’t going to let the cold close you down like some other stalls had.

“Hot cider, courtesy of Stark Tech?” a voice asked, pulling you from your trance. A steaming mug of cider appeared in front of you and you followed the gloved hand holding it up to the auburn curls and striking blue eyes of none other than Robb Stark.

It had been a long time since you’d seen him, having gone to school together many moons ago. Since then it had been easy to follow his meteoric rise in the Tech industry, taking over his father’s company when he passed too soon and managing to nearly double profits within the first year of his reign. Stark Tech was one of the biggest employers in the North, and the major sponsor of the Market. However, you had not at all expected to see the CEO of the company walking around, handing out free cider to the stall owners.

If he recognized you he didn’t let on, but you accepted the cider anyway. Anything to help keep your hands warm was welcome at this point. Only an hour left to stay open, but the temperature was dropping quickly.

“Thank you, Mister Stark,” you said, not letting your voice wave from shivering.

He smiled his blinding smile, then tilted his head a bit. “Have we met before?”

You smirked, sipping your cider that was impeccably spiced. “We went to school together.” You gave him your name and his blue eyes lit up with recognition.

“Yes! How’ve you been?”

You gestured to the stall around you, “Alright, I guess. I got accepted to the biggest Winter Market in the North, so I’d say pretty good.”

“Ahh, yes,” he said, picking up a teacup candle and inhaling deeply, “Oh, I’m sure Sansa would love this. Rose, right?”

“And sandalwood,” you added. “My gran collected fancy teacups all her life. When she passed last year she had left them all to me. I had no idea what to do with them until after…well, you don’t want to hear about all that.”

He smiled wide, picking up another candle to sniff. “On the contrary, I would love to catch up. You’re here for another hour, right?”

You had to stop your jaw from dropping. You’d been out of the dating loop, but you could’ve sworn he had just asked you out. The few attempts you’d made at online dating had yielded absolutely nothing — in fact, the matches you’d gotten had made you want to throw your phone into the White River and erase all trace of yourself from the internet forever after scrubbing your eyeballs and brain with a toilet brush.

“Are you asking me out, Stark?” you asked for the sake of clarity. More than once you’d been accused of coming off as cold rather than cool.

He smiled again, “I am indeed. Unless you’ve got plans after this, then we can pick another night.”

“Oh yeah, after this I’ve got big plans with my cat and my streaming queue,” you joked, heart fluttering as he let out a warm chuckle, “I’d love to go out with you.”

He sniffed another candle and added it to the growing pile of teacups in the crook of his arm. “Excellent, I’ll meet you here after closing if that works. We can go to the Direwolf and Dragon?”

“I love that place! They have the best whiskey selection.” You nodded eagerly, perhaps a little too enthusiastically but you were beyond caring. This was Robb Fucking Stark, every girl’s crush in school and even though you were a fully grown adult woman with her own bank account and apartment and business, the giddy teenager within you was ecstatic.

“And she likes whiskey,” he muttered to himself with satisfaction, “Excellent. While I’d love to stay and keep chatting, I’ve got more cider to hand out. How much do I owe you?”

He gestured to the four teacup candles in his arms and you told him the total, then wrapped each one in tissue paper and put them gently into a paper gift bag. Your stomach turned at the thought that these were for a girlfriend, but you hadn’t seen anything about his dating life recently. He’d been dating the heiress of some big agricultural company down south for a few years, but you knew they’d broken up a while back. Around the same time your divorce was happening, come to think of it.

As you wrapped, you asked, “Who are all these for? Teacups aren’t usually decor for bachelor flats.”

He chuckled again, “My mother and sisters. And my PA, Steffon, he loves anything pine scented. The fact that the cup has pine boughs on it I think bodes well, too.”

You passed the bag over your display and your gloved hands brushed as he accepted it. Even through thick layers of material, you felt something electric pass between the two of you.

“Well, I’ll see you in an hour then?” You asked after clearing your throat and shoving down some rather naughty thoughts.

Robb’s curls fell in front of his face as he looked down and checked his smart watch. “Forty-three minutes, to be exact.”

“Then I’ll see you in forty-three minutes.” You smiled at him. He continued on his mission of handing out hot cider. Try as you might, you couldn’t help but count down the minutes as you sipped your cider.

Fluffcember Masterlist

#robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #robb stark fic #robb stark fluff #richard madden #got fanfiction #got fic #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfiction #fluffcember #writing challenge #winter market

84 notes · View notes

existslikepristin · 8 months

Text

Okay, so I had someone send me an ask last night and now I've been thinking about it all day. It wasn't anonymous, which I appreciate, but I'm not responding to it directly for because

I reached out already to say I'd do some editing, and I've let them know the rest of what I'm about to rant on below, but I want to make sure at least a few more people see this

I flip flop around on how to say this shit all the time. Like, do I say that everyone's a good writer in their own special way? Do I say that you don't need likes and reblogs for validation? I don't fucking know what to say except for maybe one more thing that I'll reiterate until the day I die with various embellishments that will fade in and out

You. Yes you, the person who's reading this who is also a writer/aspiring writer. Come closer. We share a bond, you and I, so really get in physically close

Art can't be contained, you scrunge

If you don't think whatever you're creating is art, go to a damn museum. Or do a virtual tour. Or google the phrase "modern art". It doesn't matter. You're going to see some shit in there that, I would hope, makes you think the artist was a dipwad

I'm ranting more than I thought I would. Here's a keep reading line

You know who fucking sucks at art? Pablo Picasso.

Look at this absolute pile of bullshit, then look me in the eye, and tell me this isn't the colorized manifestation of an elementary school dropout's Wattpad account

"But ELP, Picasso demonstrated actual working knowledge of anatomy. This is just his AbstRACt sTyLe"

SHUT UP. Nobody asked you, Barbara

Picasso, Piet Mondrian, Andy Warhol. Their artworks are money laundering schemes. Their fame doesn't come from their talent. It comes from obscenely rich people trading blood diamond money for crisp, clean, still-fake money by claiming that poor people "don't get it"

And yet, despite popular opinions being developed because of ridiculous sums of money being pegged up these guys' assholes, artists today still find meaning in their works, tunneling straight through their cognitive dissonance to tell themselves that, no, I actually enjoy staring at blocks of washed out color until my retinas have burnt in just the right spots that I can see an actual human face because an art teacher once told me that these pictures got the most likes on the pre-internet Tumblr

Does that mean people don't actually like this art? Am I trying to tell you you shouldn't like this art? Maybe, but then you'd be obligated to remind me that Churchgirleum Yawjinius is a disgusting assault on your imagination and yet has as many likes as Definitely Real Medicine, which you wouldn't believe was actually written with all the earnestness my void of a chest cavity could muster

Take it from someone who willingly threw away the opportunity for automatic dozens of reblogs and hundreds of likes per post by telling people to fuck themselves (and still gets a bunch for some reason):

The validation is cool, but it's not worth it

The validation does not define what is good or not

What is good or not doesn't even matter

You're not going to make money off this shit

Someone who is genuinely terrible is going to get more validation than you, and is going to flaunt it in your face, and their writing is still somehow going to mean something to way too many people, and it doesn't matter because their soul is just as unfulfilled by the validation as yours is unfulfilled by the lack of it

What is fulfilling is doing something because you can

You are your only source of real validation, no matter what fuzzy dopamines you get from the vapid click of a like button

Oh, and if you do get the validation of Tumblr notes, that doesn't mean your work is shit or you don't deserve love or whatever. Accept it graciously because it's definitely not uncool that people like your shit, but recognize that it's not going to cure your depression

Art is art. We can look at Roman columns and marvel at how their art built modern civilization (though the Romans can fuck themselves IMO (oh wait they literally did haha)), but did it really? Art makes otherwise brutalist architecture tolerable, but the curly Qs at the bases and tops of columns isn't what kept the coliseum from collapsing on thousands of people watching live murder

If you have a story that has overstayed its welcome in your head and needs to be on paper or on a screen, then write the fucking story. Nobody actually cares about the qUaLiTy of your spelling or grammar. They care about being given permission to think about Karina's tits. Do you think their opinion matters?! I mean, they may have great contributions to make on their own, and they should have voting rights, and it's chill if they have something nice to say to you, but the point is that they're already thinking about Karina's tits regardless of your writing. They're just your thralls to manipulate into thinking about Karina's tits in the way that you, the all-powerful artist, want them to think about Karina's tits. If they try to tell you "Karina's tits would have tan lines" then write a whole fic about how Karina is a nudist and has a perfectly even tan, and who's going to argue about it? The idiot who wrote a pedantic comment? No! It's YOU. THE ALL-FUCKING-POWERFUL ARTIST WHO ACTUALLY MADE SOMETHING TO PROVE YOUR POINT WHETHER OR NOT IT IS CORRECT

If you're an artist, then fucking act like one. Embrace the chaos inherent in creativity. Maybe gentleman is vampire. The poison contains joy. We exist in these devastating, beautiful worlds of contradiction in which we hate people and how lonely we are, we crave kindness and embody violence, and we beg the universe to give us direction despite knowing full well that we're going to zigzag between paths. Maybe you relate. Maybe you don't. THAT'S THE POINT. You're not right. I'm not right. We both write (wow, bars)

I keep saying that everyone should just write, and it's not because I think everyone is secretly a good writer. It's because someone out there needs permission to write after being told their entire lives that their value lies in A, or they're not good if B by all the non-artists in who genuinely don't understand why someone needs to make something impractical to begin the infinitely long road to completion

The dumb fucks who don't understand want to contain you because it's in their nature to desire order. They like to come up with metrics to categorize what counts as art and what doesn't so they can change the rules on you. Chaos always wins though

So WRITE. The world doesn't need your artistry. YOU DO. If you write a bunch of shit and people like it but you quit anyway or nobody likes it and you quit, then idk. Maybe you weren't an artist in the first place, which is perfectly fine, or maybe you're giving your corporate overlords too much control over your mind. If you're an artist, you'll burn with the need to create, no matter how much you create. If you feel that, keep writing

20 notes · View notes

mashpotatoequeen · 7 months

Note

Ok so for your fic title ask thing I actually yoinked some fic titles I’ve used in other fandoms to see what you’d do with them in TMBS!

1. Rewriting Destiny

2. Pen Pals Across Time

3. Angel by Your Side

4. Brother, let me be your shelter

5. Promise me

6. Viral

7. Forgotten reflections

8. Last words

I numbered them to emphasize that I DO NOT EXPECT you to do them all, but I’d love to see just a few of the numbers and your ideas for them!

OOOH! EXCITE!

1.) Pen Pals Across Time

Okay, for this one, I can't help but think about how much I really wanted to see young Nicholas Benedict (from The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict) interact with the Mysterious Benedict Society kids. I just think it would be so interesting because young Mr. Benedict, is- in a lot of ways- a mix and mesh of the kids. He's got Reynie's cleverness, Sticky's perfect memory, Constance's mind made for rhymes and whimsy, and Kate's way of hiding everything with a smile.

At the same time, though, younger Mr. Benedict has a much more negative and untrusting outlook on the world in general. In his mind, there are no good grownups, and very few good children. The way he reacts to things is to very often to prioritize his own self and his own safety over others. He keeps his narcolepsy a tightly held secret, controlling his emotions as much as possible. He's constantly looking for the other shoe to drop. It's his defense mechanism, and it's one we can see developed in Mr. Curtain too. It's just that Nicholas got a wake up call, and his twin didn't.

It would be interesting, therefore, to see him interact with kids who are, in many ways, just as brilliant and intelligent as he is, and in some ways more so. I don't know how he'd interact, but I think it would be very cool to explore. I think it would be hard for Nicholas to accept- at least the Nicholas from the beginning of the book- that he grows up to be someone who is that kind. Who is surrounded by a family who loves him. I think it would be good for him, too.

So yes. Time travel shenanigans that lead to children butting heads that lead to friendship. The fic ends with Nicholas Benedict writing letters to friends he will not meet for a very long time, but that's alright. He has time.

6.) Viral

This would be a modern AU: Four Times One of the Mysterious Benedict Sociciety went viral, and One Time They Did It All Together. I just feel like people would accidentally catch them doing weird or incredible stuff all the time - or, at least, weird by "normal" standards. The only keeping them safe is that fact that the books are set a little too early in history for cellphones and internet- so bring it forward a bit and.... well. The kids get to go viral. As a treat.

A list of reasons/ways the kids went viral:

1.) Sticky gets recorded at one of his Quiz Championship Game Show competitions. He is approximately a a third of the age of everyone there. He is looking very Baby with his polkadot bowtie and big glasses. He is absolutely DESTROYING all of his competitors. The video zooms in on his score- miles ahead of everyone else- and then the faces of the other contestants as Tiny Sticky Washington stands on his tiptoes to deliver his next answer. The faces hold nothing but despair and a certain grudging amount of respect. "Correct!" yells the announcer. One man puts his head in his hands.

2.) Constance writes poetry on a random wall with sharpie. She does not sign it, and she doesn't much think about it when she's done. Someone else comes along, sees it, laughs and takes a picture and posts it. It starts properly trending by noon.

3.) They are at a football pitch. A striker is trying to score and the ball just goes flying. It lands on top of a building with an unfortunate BUMP noise. The players have about ten seconds to be depressed before Kate- who is walking by- shouts, "Oh, I'll get it!" And then she just. Climbs the building. Free Style. And grabs the ball. Tosses it back down, follows down after it, and merely goes on her way without looking back. The person who was trying to record the goal manages to capture it on camera.

4.) Reynie writes a short story during one of Miss Perumal's tutoring sessions. It gets published online, and then it gets mentioned in a magazine, and people are reading it and enjoying it and Reynie- who doesn't go online much- is perfectly oblivious that his homework assignment is getting absurdly popular.

5.) The Mysterious Benedict Society has a new project: to make the world's longest Rube Goldberg Machine. It takes up several blocks. Mr. Benedict laughs himself to sleep three times before the machine can succeed in it's one job: Flipping a lightswitch. The video gets posted online with a funky song and people are all over it.

#I had an idea for Last Words but it was making me sad to write about it #so i stopped #the mysterious benedict society #mysterious benedict society #tmbs #my writing #tmbs fanfic #ask answer #fic title ask game #kate wetherall #reynie muldoon #sticky washington #constance contraire #nicholas benedict

16 notes · View notes