Hey guys - I did a poll a while back to see where people would be interested in reading this fic and most people said AO3 or Tumblr - so I’ve uploaded the first chapter to AO3 and here’s the link! please enjoy :) and feel free to message me with any questions
Summary:
Daphne Langford loves a good story - why else would she choose to study English at the University of Oxford? However, the freedom of third year finally allows her to extend her degree to a form of art she’s been waiting to explore: music.
After a night out gone wrong, enter Andrew, a cynical but driven postgraduate student with a passion for politics, mythology and all of the juicy theoretical expertise she needs to bring her thesis to life. Thinking they’ll never meet again, fate just so happens to put Andrew right in Daphne’s path… as her thesis supervisor.
Between stealing glances at formal dinners and chance encounters in the city of gleaming spires, will the ‘whiskey-glass-half-empty’ singer and the driven optimist allow themselves to cross the boundary between musical allegories and reality, or are the smoke and mirrors offered by the whimsical city of gleaming spires too perfect of an illusion to hide behind?
After all he’s been through, she just might be “too sweet” for him…
(I hope this can be the dry humour, dark academia teacher/student dynamic fic of your dreams - pls enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing it xox)
I want you to remember:
The fascists hate you too and they just will pretend otherwise until after they've killed the rest of us, before they turn on you.
Daily Mirror, England, January 23, 1923 Image © The British Library Board. All Rights Reserved.
Been a while since my last Good Omens art 😊
A speedpaint video of this will be available at my Patreon soon! you can also find prints of my art at my Store
hey followers. have you ever wanted to know how it feels to be inside a bag of cornflakes
Moments in time, preserved through sentiments Twitter | Ko-Fi | Patreon
This is what I have so far.
For some books I'm still missing sources, and I know it's not complete or ✨️Aesthetic✨️. But if there is anything that you think should be on there, let me know.
the five homoerotic love languages:
- intimate stabbing
- outright obsession
- confused pining
- "no one knows me like you do"
- lifelong promises that always sound suspiciously like wedding vows
when a powerful figure is reduced to kneeling. when the lord is forced to bow. when the exile stumbles into an unwelcoming bar. when the “beast” is chained by their horns. when a god is dragged behind their enemy’s chariot, a captive and trophy. when the loyal “guard dog” character is muzzled and the silver-tongued thief falls silent in horror.
that’s the shit
it’s about the contrapasso. the reversal of roles and the sudden, plunging terror of being unable to hide.
She/TheyWelcome to my Trash Pile™ New blog, Old user (I forgot my password) Original content will be rare, if it happens at all
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