#as u can I’m not a very good literary critic

[literateleah]

hi! I’ve always kinda admired you from afar because your blog is so nice and put together and you’re knowledge regarding literature is the type of stuff I wanna achieve! I just wanted to ask for some advice? as a sort of first-gen i struggle with pursuing my passion in literature. I think the subtle discouragement from my family has left me in multiple slumps and taken away motivation. However I still want to improve, and ESPECIALLY my critical analysis skills. I love finding new books, but (aside from lacking motivation to do much as open them) I think my problem is that if it interested me until the end, I’ll say it was “just good” and nothing more. I feel like I’ve never actually thought too deep about what I’m reading and I wanted to know if that was common? I don’t know how to help it. it seems I only excel in critical analysis when a teacher is prompting it. I want to be able to properly review a book instead of just saying it was pretty good 😭 sorry if this wasn’t clear or didn’t make sense, and you don’t have to answer it! I thought I might as well ask rather than never try to. Thanks :)

omg this is so sweet :'))) thank u for sending this message!!! i def get your feelings, i've been in a reading slump for probably like over a year LMAO my pretty looking "literary" tumblr (whtv that means) certainly does not reflect my irl reading habits in any regard. honestly what i always turn to is the root of topics that interest me and prompt me to discuss them with others or channel my thoughts into writing! like my go tos are thrillers that will get me going with a good twist, or something about ballet/fame/celebrity (all topics that interest me) and i know i'll prob have something to say after reading!! also remember that you dont have to feel pressured to overanalyze and critique everything! reading for pleasure is fun and necessary and without it things can lead to burnout very quickly <333 much love

#ask tag #anon tag

[codes]

hello matthew!! :D this ask isnt related to the little game u made unfortunately but id like to ask for some advice from someone who probably has to read a lot for school!!

i finished reading a classic of literature recently, jane austens persuasion. having repeated myself many times today, it was a very good thought provoking book. except that i didnt really realise that until i read the introduction of the book where they discuss her techniques and how she handles the themes!! argh.. in fact while i was readin the whole thing i didnt even really know what to feel! i knew about the instances of titular persuasion but i wasnt even really sure what they were saying with nuance...

since im so troubled by my lack of sensitivity and find no help elsewhere on the interwebs, as someone who i find can parse the complex muddled text of enstars with clarity, what should i do to become a more sensitive reader! or rather how do u read matthew?

hi lab! im a lil honored that u hold me in such high regard bc honestly, i dont always feel that my literary analysis skills are up to par! though i think thats an opinion shared by many but i often end up in the same position as you and even my professors say the same thing where they have to reread books before they start to really delve into analysis. its p normal, honestly. a lot of themes in literature are largely opinionated so some people pick up patterns faster than others and sometimes two readings can conflict with one another. it happens! one reading may be more clearly supported by evidence within the text but analyzing literature usually takes a lot of practice more than anything, but sometimes going back to the basics rlly helps and focusing on which critical theory may be applicable. could you maybe analyze the text through a character? perhaps the psychoanalytic theory may help! are gender roles present within the text? maybe looking at it through a feminist critical lens may give you a good ledge to start off. theres also formalism, post-colonialist, Marxist theory, eco-criticism, etc... the world is your oyster and having trouble with analyzing a text is normal! we're not all-knowing and sometimes it helps to look at what other people have to say will help you most of all.

also i asked my friend @cupidneos who is insanely smart for her advice since i bet that she would have something to say (also shes also a jane austen fan) and this is what she said:

i do wanna say that you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself since Persuasion is easily one of her hardest texts to really extend and make sense of so it’s no fault of your own … literature that uses free indirect discourse to hint towards our knowledge of character tends to be harder to understand bc of how limited that info can be! that being said, not being able to place our finger on something until it’s highlighted is completely okay! that’s what the introduction is there for; to help you out. there’s no set list of criteria to being a “more sensitive reader” since the phenomenon of reading itself is so mercurial. with practice i’m so certain that u will get a better sense of where to look for those literary themes. and don’t sell urself short in doing so either! if u find a passage important, pursue it!!! doesn’t matter what everyone else says abt it hehe

#ask #lab #i hope that helps lab!!!

[perditism]

I MADE A BOOK BLOG!!

In the shadows of an autumn evening, I fell for a seamstress still at her machine in the tailor's window, and later for a bowl of broth, steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.

-- Aimless Love by Billy Collins

Me and my friends decided to co-own a book blog to actually put our literary critical thinking to use, especially for me after I graduated from Pre-U and has lived an English Literature-less life ever since. We plan to post REVIEWS, TBRs, and PODCAST-STYLE DISCUSSIONS on our platform (the latter I’m the most excited about!) and good news!! We are currently open to review requests! This is all incredibly exciting and I look forward to blogging and sharing all of my less-than-intellectual-thoughts to people who can very easily make fun of me on the internet!!!!

#syd speaks #book blog #bookblr #litblr #writeblr #this is pretty fun and no i did not spend a whole month amking the website what r u talking about #im thinking of expanding the blog when we r ready to hold competitions or challenges that would be fun!!! #anywayss PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST THIS AND IF YOU LIKE :)) FOLLOW OUR BLOG #OKAY LOVE U ALL AND THANK YOU

[bettsfic]

march pinned: ending the sex project

in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!

for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

fuck february, amiright?

i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.

the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”

new resource

last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.

i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!

writing-related posts

how to physically maneuver the revision process

the difference between M and E ratings of fic

resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)

a couple syntax/prose book recs

how to break a long work into chapters

march availability

unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

what i’m into rn

for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).

reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.

while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.

i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.

i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.

been thinkin a lot about

the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.

what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.

how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?

in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.

i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.

i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.

then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.

it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you’re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?

maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”

it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.

i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.

my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.

now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.

#pinned #lkwrnl

[ouyangzizhensdad]

i meant white/western audiences are slow to understanding the subtext rather than asian fandoms, when i was a kid i remember most asian countries didnt even have "kiss scenes" in movies or dramas, for us the "subtext" was normal for straight couples too (I've seen a few white folks think cql is a story abt 2 straight friends). the issues with the poor production and it has shit production coz of the budget but the drama wasnt supposed to be a big hit. also like how u just made it the "idol drama"  as if most kdramas and cdramas arent full of idols. I mostly agree with ur cql fandom hate too but to me it seems like u sometimes just want to prove that cql is worse than it is just coz the fans it brought in. I dont blame u either, I've seen some shit metas and the cql fans who hate the novel and call the writer homophobic are also funny. What makes me irritated is that the amount of hate cql gets on here is equal to the amount of hate novel gets, when the drama made alot of things possible for asian LGBTQ audiences. This is the first drama that my gay asian friend (who isnt out) watched with his parents and got them to fall for all the ppl and support the couple. Novels have our imagination in them but dramas need to make a lot of ppl happy and also keep censorship at bay. for me personally cql seems like it made it possible for alot of closeted kids be comfortable talking abt a gay couple with their parents, as novels are limited to a fandom. (Like I've not read a single harry potter book but I've watched 4 of the movies 😚)

I'm not trying to attack u but I'm trying to tell u that just coz the drama brought in a shit ton of weirdos in the fandom it still helped alot more ppl than u can imagine...

Hi anon, 

One thing where we seem to be of a different opinion is that criticising cql as a work of fiction, or highlighting the political economic context surrounding it, in no way negates what it can mean for people. I personally consider that these are completely different matters. These things often have nothing to do with the inherent quality of a thing, or even how good “queer rep” it is--they are relative to people’s specific and personal experiences, or a particular moment in the media landscape. All the things she said holds special meaning to me because it was the first time I got to see two women kiss on tv and it felt revelatory. I vividly remember sitting cross-legged right in front of the tv and refusing to come eat until the end of the music videos--at a time when I could not articulate why I was so fascinated by it. I know that this song is still meaningful for a lot of queer people my age, even if many people hate it for being a straight gaze fantasy. Regardless of what it personally means to me, I’m not going to argue that the music video is a masterpiece, or be blind to the reason why the kiss was included in that music video. CQL is very meaningful to your gay closeted friend, and allowed him to discuss wangxian as a gay couple with his parents, and that’s absolutely great. But I personally think it’s a little bit far-fetched to suppose that the same couldn’t have been said of any other live adaptations of a danmei novel who didn’t shoehorn in a het romance: if the timing had been different, perhaps the first drama with romantic subtext between two male characters he would have seen with his parents would have been Guardians, or the incoming adaptation of TGCF. Hell, H2O was so popular that they might have just watched that one together as well, even if the subtext “romance” is between two side characters. 

Let me be clear as well that I am not trying to argue that MDZS is this groundbreaking piece of fiction wrt “gay rights” or queer representation in China that changes minds and sways public opinion. It’s one of many danmei novels--it just is one that has a lot of literary merit. I simply think it’s disingenuous when people in the western fandom claim that a subtext romance is better “representation” than a canon gay couple who get their happily ever after. CQL is more impactful because it is mainstream, but it does not mean the representation it offers is inherently better. It is also ridiculous sometimes because the hurdles faced by a danmei authors vs the government-backed media giants who benefit financially from putting out censored version of their stories is just..... not something that should be ignored in my opinion.

Asian audiences being more used to romance depicted through subtext does not, at least in my opinion, negate the power of heteronormativity or compulsory heteronormativity to influence readings of that subtext by a portion of the audience. Chinese people are absolutely creative and innovative in the ways in which they manage to circumvent censorship, but a webseries financed by a media giant is not going to be a transgressive attempt to pull the wool over the censors’ eyes--at the end of the day it needs to be a safe investment. 

You seem to suggest that I am hard on CQL for being an idol drama but do not bring the same criticisms to other idol dramas. I find this weird because it’s not like I’ve ever praised an idol drama, and I know I haven’t because I simply don’t think they are competent works of fiction (although sometimes the camera work and editing is at least competent, compared to cql where the production quality is kind of poor). The closest I’ve come to doing that is praising My Mister, which is not in any way an idol drama, but which I suppose features an idol (IU) in the cast. When I said the first jdrama I watched was Hana Yori Dango, that was not an endorsement of how good it was--because honestly it’s one hot mess barely held together by the chemistry between the two leads--it was just a statement of fact. 

I am very critical and judgemental, I’ll give you that, but I don’t think that equates to “hate”. Yes, most of my discussions of CQL sprout from existing discussions within the fandom. But most of my posts indirectly reference or respond to something I saw. What’s the difference between me addressing a common novel fanon and me addressing a common opinion on cql’s virtues? 

TLDR; a work of fiction being significant to people is something to recognise but it should not preclude being able to discuss that work critically, especially wrt how it executes its story since the inherent quality of the work as art has no direct correlation with its impact, be it on individuals or on a specific media landscape. Moreover, the impact of a work on queer people or on the social perception of queer people is not inherently proportional to how “good queer rep” it is: it has usually more to do with the context (ie people don’t remember Brokeback Mountain because it was the best movie with a gay love story ever made until then--there was more at play). 

#anon ask #fandom discussions #long post

[darcyolsson]

have you ever read casey mcquiston's books? if so what did u think of them?

hoo boy okay

so! i read rwrb back when the hype was very big, i think 2018 ish. i've DEFINITELY also seen the controversies lately so here's my take on it:

it's not meant to be a literary masterpiece. and that's fine. it's very obvious cmq comes from a background of fanfic and i actually like seeing these sorts of books being published- it's getting people who don't really read outside of ao3 fic about their favourite tv ship into reading more, because there's now original works with that tone. rwrb is definitely just a light-hearted novel that you shouldn't think about too much.

except, the main topics- american politics and the british monarchy- are very, very serious, and are hard to look past and not think about too much. i'm dutch, and i basically only know the basics of US politics. same goes for the british monarchy (i literally had no idea they changed the royal family's name until like 2 years after reading the book). because these are such serious topics that affect millions of people every day, i definitely understand all the criticism. people suffer under these governments. seeing them glorified is absolutely horrible. this review from goodreads sums it up pretty well.

but on the other hand, i can see the appeal of exactly this: imagining a world where the british monarchy isn't a bunch of racists with too much money and the us president is a cool mom that has very genuine, very good intentions. again, it's not meant to be some genius commentary on either the monarchy or us politics, it's meant to be a lighthearted romance novel.

that being said, i'm willing to read one last stop- it looks very promising and like something i'd enjoy. i think cmq has a good writing style, and definitely understands how to write a feel-good story, it's just that the topic she chose to write it about was... questionable, at least.

this is just my opinion, and i sincerely do not judge people who do love it. it's nice to imagine a world where the people in charge have genunely good intentions, and i can 100% see the appeal of a novel that's just that :)

#answered asks #anonymous

[bondsmagii]

hey do u have any more thoughts on the whole twitter "activism" thing, and/or dealing with bigoted authors, content creators, etc. in general? i've been having trouble articulating my stance on it and i thought you would probably have some intelligent points to make. it's cool if that's not something you want to delve into, though!

I try to have absolutely zero thoughts on Twitter activism and social media activism in general if I’m honest; it’s all mostly pointless, and with very few exceptions it seems to just be busy-work for people who won’t actually go out and do any real activism. I tend to listen to pretty much nothing I see people saying on Twitter or Tumblr, and I recommend everyone to do the same.

with the wider question of dealing with content creators, I’m very much for separating the author from the work. I have critical thinking skills and contrary to what people on this website believe, a book isn’t a carbon copy of the author’s intent, nor is any creative piece a carbon copy of the creator’s full views and personality and beliefs. if you have basic critical thinking skills you can identity and reject the nasty parts while still liking the work as a whole. just don’t support the creator with your money, etc. you’re allowed to take what you like from a piece while rejecting the things you don’t, and even the author or director or actor or whatever. to use a recent example: J. K. Rowling. she’s full of shit, but she can be as full of shit as she likes, because literally nobody is listening to her. her work, while now read critically (as all work should be) has become something larger than herself. it’s like a child growing up and moving away -- they’re going to bear marks of influence from the people that raised them, but if they’re a decent enough person you’re not going to reject them because their parent is a transphobe. hell, if we did have that attitude, none of us would speak to one another seems I’m sure all of us have at least one racist parent or relative running around out there.

this kind of attitude -- that if something has any problematic elements or was created by someone with problematic beliefs it should be cancelled and we should all act like it never happened -- is counter-productive and absolutely ridiculous, if I’m honest. if we truly committed to this attitude, we would have to cancel pretty much everything ever written. it’s totally possible to engage with creative content in a way that both acknowledges and disagrees with elements that are a product of the times or of current bigotry; just because you enjoy watching a show or reading a book that has an asshole on the team doesn’t mean you yourself are an issue. people need to learn to separate work from creator, and I vehemently disagree with the idea that the two are one and the same. I speak from experience. I am a writer. no, you do not know everything about me from reading my work. my characters have opinions and do things I do not agree with. if you think you can look at an author’s work, or any creative work, and thing you know everything, you’re wrong. likewise, if you think that someone with shitty-ass opinions is incapable of creating good work outside of these issues, you’re also wrong. nothing is black and white, and it sucks, but the answer isn’t to go around cancelling things like a literary censorship committee in Stalin’s USSR.

something to keep in mind in the present age, however, is that there are a lot of creators who are very accessible and have huge ranges of impressionable fans. I think in the case of like, certain video game streamers who have been proven to recruit people to the alt-right, we should definitely be boycotting. but with wider things -- books, films, TV shows, etc -- we need to understand that we can enjoy the work while still remaining critical. I’m not going to give up something I love because the creator turned out to be an asshole, and I’m especially not going to turn to Twitter for my moral code on what constitutes an asshole.

#anon #asks

[otomimichan143]

This is just my collection of stories for twisted wonderland characters being shipped to the mc or yuu perhaps. All the twisted wonderland characters in the story are not mine so please don't associate me with ownership issues this blog is simply for writing my own and others' wishes. Moving on I would like to present my guidelines

Please as much as possible state what is your story category otherwise ill do my own twist on what the story type will be used

S T O R Y C A T E G O R Y

oneshots

-This involves a story about only one twst character interacting with mc in 3rd pov

scenarios

-A smaller version of oneshots and this can usually be requested with multiple characters

chats

-This one is a message type of interaction kind of like text

Interactions

-This is where you directly ask or speak to a character in twst

AU

-This story category will be selective since I know only a few of it and I would write this when I post about it saying its open for request

imagines

-This is similar to headcanons however they are not on bulleted form but in paragraph form

headcanons

-This is a bulleted form of what the characters personally think about the situation

Matchups

-this is where you state your own personality and I will match you up with the dorm or character that I believe to be the best for you

R U L E S

THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT SECTION SO PLEASE READ CAREFULLY

First and foremost TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO DOESNT FOLLOW THE RULES EXPECT A DELETED REQUEST

1. No Oc or very defined character description exception for matchups

this is a book for all not for one

2. No canon shipping between characters (trey x riddle,ace x deuce...etc)

This blog aint about that guys

3. Please only light yandere, NSFW,gore,or anything related to sensitive stuff

I know there is an angst prompt for headcanons but I would also make sure to make it light since I know some of my audience are minors so I wouldn't write full-blown smut and NSFW but there will be a few hints of it

4. Please dont complain when your story havent been posted yet

Its either because you broke a rule or I'm still in the middle of writing it so check this, please

5. You may comment on my literary skills

Yes if you like this is optional I don't mind criticism and it will help wishers to be happier

6. You may reblog this and

heart it to your hearts content

Honestly, I dont really mind infact they are good haha

7. Asking me is also ok but message it in private

If you want to ask some questions or concerns I would honestly answer them as best as I could

8.Do not credit this as your own stories in any blogs or writing forums

I will personally find you when you do

9.Please comply to my request time

I need to be strict at this due to the fact I want to answer all of your wishes

Anyway thats all for now and if you see an updated version i Would put it on top so you can see it was updated hehe anyway enjoy your wishes to be fullfilled~

#twst #rules #guidelines #PLEASE READ THIS GUYS

[jawnkeets]

could u maybe recommend some theory texts that u read and actually liked/found beneficial to understanding other texts since u read them? i've been looking a lot at different books abt literary theory lately - i'm a student of english lit getting my bachelors degree but there's not a lot of theory included at my university, and i feel like it would help me to know some. anything would be appreciated! (tho i appreciate u anyways)

hey anon, apologies for the belated reply!

if ur looking for a useful overview of theory which takes you through pretty much every movement from the conception of ‘theory’ in the modern sense (traced back in the author’s opinion to matthew arnold) and ending with very contemporary stuff like eco criticism, then bertens’ literary theory: the basics is a good shout. it is very thorough and picks out each school’s most important and relevant passages so you don’t have to slog through thousands of pages yourself. that said, whilst this is a sort of quick fix, reading it all in one go probably not the best way to learn theory as there’s a lot to take in (speaking from experience). i’d read theory in small chunks, proceeding slowly, e.g. when you have a free hour read eliot’s ‘tradition and the individual talent’ or whimsatt and beardsley’s ‘the intentional fallacy’, rather than deciding you’ll tackle ALL of new criticism and feeling confused and overwhelmed (movements clash internally, too, so any insertion of ‘what new criticism thinks’ into an essay will be an unnecessary generalisation). 

i am, however, hesitant to push you towards just learning every single ‘school’ (which are more ill-defined than is often presented) and then transferring this knowledge to your work. deciding to ‘do a marxist/ structuralist/ new critical reading’ has always to me seemed a little impositional and at times unnatural if done uncritically and arbitrarily. students often want to learn theory to improve their essays and make them seem more learned (i too have of course been there done that and am still guilty of it), but it can have the opposite effect in the eyes of an examiner, to their dismay. this is because it may seem as if they’re not thinking for themselves, even though they’ve spent loads of time and effort becoming familiar with complicated ideas. in itself that’s great, but the problem then becomes that a marker may think ‘yeah they understand post-structuralism, but so what?’.

a good essay writer will instead read a theory or theorist and latch onto the ideas to improve their own. this is hard to explain and equally as hard to do. it can happen, to my mind, in one of two ways. one is by adapting or applying the particular idea(s) to the book(s)/ poem(s)/ play(s) etc the essay is focusing on with nuance, and seeing how the theory interacts with said book(s)/ poem(s)/ play(s) (i.e. not writing a blanket statement like ‘a feminist would say that…’, but focusing on a very specific idea from one theorist and quoting relevantly from the original work, saying what YOU think at all times - using the theory as a tool, not a substitute for your opinion), and how the passage itself ‘bites [the theory] back’ so to speak, raises questions about its legitimacy, demands modification, etc. the other is by allowing the intricacy of thought, imagination, etc in theory to guide and elevate your intellect, without necessarily using the theorist’s specific ideas at all. to put it in a more simple way, reading clever and edifying things will over time be edifying and make one cleverer. but this should not be to the extent that your own voice is obscured - i personally like the fact that i’m me and write like me and not t. s. eliot!!

i would like to recommend reading classical literary theory/ criticism, too, because i feel like us students often look towards the modern stuff and apply it somewhat impositionally and artificially on texts written beforehand (unless we are careful), whereas a lot of the classical stuff actually influenced much of english literature, especially the slightly older english literature, so it can be integrated into essays more naturally (though of course what i’ve said above still applies). i’d recommend horace’s art of poetry and longinus’ on great writing/ the sublime to begin with! they’re easy reads and quite short, but very rewarding.

there are also really useful books that aren’t mainstream/ ‘canonical’ theory as such but can help you read texts with a fresh perspective, like bennett and royle’s an introduction to literature, criticism and theory (which is very readable and moves away from rigid ‘schools’). my final recommendation is harold bloom’s interviews on youtube. they have helped me ‘read’ texts via reminding me that it’s not necessarily only heavily theoretical stuff that’s going to aid reading (not that bloom’s work isn’t ever heavily theoretical of course) - for example, you can find a strange sort of ‘understanding’ in reading aloud. as bloom says in a 2000 interview, literature ‘alters you a little. it changes you.’ and sometimes going back to the roots of why you chose it can improve an essay just as much as tackling heavy theory. there are different ways of being thoughtful, if that makes sense.

sorry this got so long! i hope it’s answered your question and is helpful and not too patronising; obviously we’re both undergrads at uni so i’m very much still learning all this stuff too. but just my two cents ❤️ if you’d like any more specific recommendations hmu anytime!

#asks #my guides

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Fraxus fake Boyfriend AU part 1/?

So it’s Fraxus day, but this isn’t finished yet so I decided to split it up. Here’s part one folks! (it’s a modern au)

"No Freed, you can't hack your father's bank account. The feds will get you and then I will be tragically best friend-less."

"No, you don't get it", Freed says and on the grainy computer screen, Laxus can see him shake his head. "If I go to jail, it'll probably be in Crocus, which means you can actually visit me instead of videocalling me at stupid o'clock in the morning. Also orange is an excellent colour on me."

A quick glance at the lower corner of his screen and a bit of mental math tells Laxus that it's indeed way too early in the morning for Freed to even consider to talk to him. "Justine it's three in the morning there, why are you even awake?"

Although it's hard to tell with the awful videoquality, Laxus thinks he can see the other man pout. "Talking to my bestie, duh", Freed replies and bashes his eyelashes obnoxiously, drawing a huff of laughter out of Laxus. "What are you, a fifteen year old schoolgirl? The lack of sleep is clearly getting to your head."

Smoothly ignoring Laxus' criticism of his horrendous sleeping habits, Freed continues the earlier topic. "Speaking of besties, made any friends yet?" Groaning, Laxus rolls his eyes. "My roommate is an actual nutjob and I don't know why I'm fond of him. He introduced me to his absolute bitch of a friend and I think I like her even more", he confesses and the pixelated image of Freed gives him a smug smirk. "It's because you like to be bullied, Laxus dearest. You won't say it, so I'll say it for you : bottom rights baby."

"I hate you and if you were here I'd smack you", he half-heartedly threatens and Freed replies "Kinky" without missing a beat. While the two of them are engaged in a staring match without actually being able to make out each other's eyes in the blur of colours on the screen, Bickslow throws open Laxus' bedroom door and yells: "Time to hide your porn blondie, it's time for reallife interaction with actual human beings!"

On instinct, Laxus does click away and as soon as the connection with Freed breaks he sees it fit to pout like a child. Their schedules matching (or one of them not sleeping for a day) and their wifi allowing them to see each other is a ridiculously difficult situation to stumble upon and now he's wasted his chance. Bickslow looks at least apologetic. Laxus was going to forgive him, until he opened his godforsaken mouth. "Dang man, the porn that good?"

"I hate you too", he says without clarifying to Bickslow who the other despised person is. He doesn't seem to mind as he plucks Laxus' computer from his bed, plops it down the nearby desk and sits himself down right in front of Laxus, legs in lotus position and bouncing with way too much energy. "I had a great idea", he announces and Laxus immediately doubts him.

"You see Ever and I, we thought you were a bit lonely and it might heal your soul to... Nah, scratch all of that, Ever and I were really fucking bored and we thought : Hey, let's set our absolute bestie up on a date! So here we are. Get dressed, you're going on a date."

"I can't", he says and desperately tries to come up with a reason. Uni work won't fool them, because they know that he's actually a good student, other activities won't work either because he's a social recluse and not even Makarov can save him because for some reason, the little shits he calls friends are all buddy-buddy with his grandpa.

"My boyfriend would hate it", he continues, cheeks colouring. It's because of the lying, not because he can only come up with one boyfriend-candidate in his mind. The statement is bland and straight to the point, which makes his words sound all the more true. Of course, Bickslow doesn't even buy a little bit of it. "Prove it", he demands.

While mentally apologising to Freed, Laxus digs up his contact information and futily tries to call him. After the third time trying, Bickslow looks even less convinced, which is an impressive feat considering he didn't believe Laxus from the beginning. Sighing, he goes to their chat instead and unlike their usual nonsense, he finds a sweet (?) message from Freed.

Damn, the wifi is really fucking with us huh? Wish we could talk more and I wish I could see your pretty face instead of a black screen and some smudges of colour here. X from the most beautiful man you know."

'Conceited brat', he thinks fondly and replies: Cymbeline (Act 3, Scene 4) Line 35-39, but replace 'slander' with 'you bitch'. They've adopted this weird system where Freed uses slang and Laxus literary references, just to meet each other's vibes somewhat. Sometimes it works, most of the times it really doesn't, but at least it's fun.

"Bro have you forgotten about my entire existence already? Stop smiling at your phone and admit that you don't have a mans!" Wordlessly, Laxus passes his phone to Bickslow who gasps. "Book quotes? Shit man, you're in deep. I'm gonna tell Ever." Without a warning, Bickslow disappears through the window, probably giving Evergreen her twentieth heart attack of this month by landing on her balcony. If the school thought a floor would seperate girls and boys, then they clearly hadn't met Bickslow.

Too late Laxus realises that Bicks has taken his phone with him and hopes his friends somewhat value his privacy and don't scroll too far up. There are the occassional way too deep talks around midnight but also a one time onceler x barry b benson bdsm roleplay (Freed had needed help with a creative writing assignment and Laxus had contributed a whole lot of nothing).

Barely five minutes later, Evergreen marches right into his bedroom, heels clicking snappily on his floor. "What", she spits and waves with his phone, "is this?"

"My cellphone."

Unperturbed, she continues her dramatic rant. "You have a boyfriend and you don't bother telling us?" Her tone turns sly and she elegantly flops down on his bed, rearranging her body to give herself a 'stern posture'. She looks like an irod rod trying to do yoga. "Or are you just making things up? Feel free to prove me wrong by showing us what he looks like."

"Why would I bring my photoalbums to uni?" he asks dumbfounded and Ever looks at him as though he just came down from Mars. "Laxus, honey, snapchat is a thing? Email if you're oldfashioned? Where are your boyfriend's nudes?"

"You're in a relationship."

"With a great guy who loves and trusts me and knows I ain't gonna cheat on him. Show me the dickpicks." Annoyed, he gives her a little shove. "I don't have any, I'm used to him being around. He's on another continent now and I just recently realised that all my memorabilias are at home."

"Convenient", Ever remarks dryly and Laxus sighs deeply and stretches out his hand. After she dumped his phone in it, he sends Freed a message ('Bro send me a pic of u ppl wanna know u exist') and shows it to both of his friends. "There."

Surprisingly fast, he gets a message back. 'No. The paparazzi and the FBI agent assigned to me will have to try harder than that to get a hold of ME (why is this man so ridiculous).' He shows it to Ever and Bicks and the former uses this opportunity to snatch his phone, typing a response before Laxus can properly register what's happening. "Hi I'm Laxus friend and I don't believe you're his boyfriend. Send a thirst trap to prove you exist. Or nudes", she reads aloud. Bickslow guffaws at that and Laxus sighs, resigning himself to face the consequences of his actions. What he does not expect however, is for Freed to send a picture back.

It's an awful photo of high school-aged Freed, complete with braces and a very unnatural smile. He's gangly, thin and looks like the walking embodiment of an awkward teen. 'This is a nude, as my soul has never been as bare as in this one picture', the caption reads and Ever laughs. "You know what, he passes the test." She purses her lips. "For now at least, I'm going to need more concrete evidence of this being an existing human being, because everyone can pluck a photo from the internet. Anyway, you're way too late for your date, so you get off easy Laxus."

After brushing nonexistent dirt from her skirt she opens her arms for Bickslow. "Take me home, spiderman", she orders and he gives her a salute. "Roger madame!" he yells before plucking Ever from the floor and leaping over the balcony railing. Their trust in each other is remarkable, but Laxus does think they're weirdos.

The very next day, Ever once again bursts through his door and Laxus mentally curses because he hasn't had the chance to discuss this whole thing with Freed yet. "Laxus", she says, voice dead-serious. "Evergreen.", he greets back as she half-crawls under the covers of his bed. "It's fucking cold", she clarifies before opening her laptop. That seemingly insignificant action makes Laxus weary, as Ever is holding her rickety laptop that's for illegal purposes only.

"I reverse searched that pic of your boyfriend and before I tell you the results, I'd like to know how exactly you met him."

He recognises her nosiness for what it really is (worry) and with a sigh, he gives her the sparknotes version of their history.

"We lived in the same town and we became friends because both of our fathers were absolute shit. They were friends so we became friends. At age thirteen he moved to Alakitasia and we reconnected because we matched on that stupid tinder profile you guys made me."

"Are you sure you weren't catfished?"

"Yup, because we skype regularly."

"Okay. Then certainly you're aware that he's a billionaire? Like, the heir to Justine Industries, the biggest technologie giant at the moment?"

He tries to see the whole situation from her perspective and has to admit that 'I have a boyfriend overseas, who's also a billionaire', sounds a bit too over the top to be true. "Yep, his pa's job is the reason he moved. I know this whole situation sounds like a huge lie to stop you guys' antics (probably because it is), but I swear it's true (it really isn't)."

"Okay then", she mumbles before putting her feet into Laxus' lap. The audicity of this woman, he thinks as he does absolutely nothing to move her. "I'm sorry for the whole 'setting you up' thing, it was rude of us. We just wanted you to have someone, you know? Because you deserve it and we can also see that you kind of want it and we wanted to help. We were too overzealous."

Ah, what a festive feeling brews in his chest. Nothing like a bucket of guilt to get your morning refreshment. The worst part is that Evergreen isn't even done yet with her sentimental speech. "Also, you get really happy whenever your man sends you a message, so all in all I'm glad our big plans didn't work out. I'm still going to be weary of  his actual existence until I meet him, I hope you don't mind." He shakes his head. "Nah, be weary all you want."  

After dropping Evergreen off at her boyfriend's, he rushes to his room to send Freed a message to update him on his situation (he even uses the actual sms-system instead of the internet, which is crazy expensive but he's in a bit of a panic). Unlike most of the time, Freed responds quickly. Laxus wonders why his wifi is absolute shit if he's rich enough to pay for intercontinential messaging. An agonising five minutes pass as the speech bubble ominously keeps showing that the other is typing. When it finally shows up, all it reads is :

"Lol"

"That's all you have to say?" he furiously types back, but before he can hit send, he gets another message. "Whatever man, I'll be the hottest boyfriend ever." After that, it's radio silence again.

The silence between them is broken a few days later. Laxus is trying to enjoy his lunch while Bickslow and Evergreen bicker over something or other, when his phone pings. Little gremlins that they are, they've already looked at the message as soon as it pops up. They read the godawful collection of words "Send me a pic of your feet" before he does.

"Romance at its finest", Bickslow dryly jokes and Evergreen turns to him with big worried eyes. "You're sure he's not a catfish? Or is this what you consider a raunchy picture?" Laxus would answer if he knew what the fuck is happening. Another message appears :  "With measuring tapes surrounding them, not in a weird, gross, fifty year old with a feet kink kind of way. I want to spoil my boyfriend (with my father's creditcard)."

"Aw how sweet, he's committing crimes for ya", Bickslow croons and Laxus grumbles. "I'm not about to give him anymore excuses to commit theft.", he says while typing "Absolutely not." At the other side of the table Evergreen collects her phone from her bag and opens Instagram. After looking for and finding Freed's profile, she sends him a selfie with Laxus and Bickslow in the background and adds a thoughtful message detailing Laxus' feet. "Honey, you need shoes that fit you. No stores have your size and if your insanely rich boyfriend's dad can involuntarily provide, why not take the chance?"

A few days later, the shoes do arrive. They're the most comfortable pair Laxus has ever owned and there's no obnoxious trademarked name smacked on it. He thanks Freed, but asks him to please not do something along those lines again. Knowing full well that Freed himself would never be financially bothered by it, he still feels guilty. Freed apologises (he really shouldn't, he's been nothing but an angel while Laxus is being bothersome) and drops the matter.

"Where are you rn?" The message feels somewhat ominous, but Laxus ignores his gutfeeling that tells him that today is going to be weird. "The western outside food court of Crocus' uni, why?" The response that he gets is a simple :  " :) ". Like a dumbass, he decides to not question it.

While he's chilling out, head resting on his crossed arms, he hears an unusual amount of chattering. Although he and his friends had chosen this place because of how little people came here, it seems like that peace is now gone. Rest in peace, piece. Vibrating bothersomely, his phone grabs his attention. "Got ya another present!" Brows furrowing, Laxus reads the new incoming message : "Kids and their phones these days. Look up darling !"

#fraxus #fraxus day #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #freedxlaxus #evergreen #bickslow #fairy tail #fanfic #TheFairyWrites

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

👀

send me a 👀 and i’ll post a snippet of art/writing that i never got around to finishing this year (r.i.p)

okay so here’s the tea on all the things that didn’t get finished in 2019!

2019 was the year of abandoning short stories lol oops! Here’s the hit list: :’(

1. Growing Season

This is such a hard hit because who doesn’t want to read a story about a woman replacing her boyfriend with a cactus, narrated BY the cactus?? I’d love to revisit this story because a) it’s told in my fave POV (first person directed to “you”) and b) “you” is an apathetic college dropout who goes for the hard dRAG after a bad breakup with her boyfriend, and c) because a cactus NARRATES it.

I’m at a little over 800 words in this story (it def gives me Sea Life by Eliza Robertson vibes).

2. Phantom Limbs in D Minor

Biggest hit! I’ve been working on this story since March, made good progress in the beginning, and slowly began drifting from it. I’ve chipped away at it sporadically over the last few months, and I’ve made it my goal to finish it over break! I don’t see myself hitting this goal, but I do hope to actually finish this story because I feel like it contains some of the best prose I’ve written and I love the vibe! I’m at over 2k words with a scene of about 1k floating around. I’ve actually toyed with making this story a novel because the scope seems quite large, but I definitely want to finish the short story before I think about that more! We follow chaotic Linda as she stress renovates her childhood home (a past! commune!) after her mother’s death. Linda is so precious to me, and I’d love to give her a story! If New York by Ex:Re was a person, it would be Linda lol. 

3. Anatomy of a Swinging Door

I’m making a statement, and my statement is that this is my designated cult story which means it must happen in the future. This was originally my “test out first person retrospective” story, though I think the point of view isn’t working super well here, but we’ll see! I conveniently wrote a logline for this story when I was trying to narrow down the scope, so here you go: A young woman visits her childhood home on the one-year anniversary of her brother’s disappearance and meets the new (and strange) family who lives there. 

(cult!)

So the second round of tragedies goes toward novels, AKA Houses With Teeth (which I can share excerpts from!). 

4. Houses With Teeth

I really struggled with this book this year, because it came to be in a time where my writing was getting an overhaul (though I didn’t realize it at the time)! I’ve learned a lot about intention in writing over the last year, something the Fostered series has lacked (oops). This led to me being very unsure about where I wanted to go with this book in particular--the same route as all the others (weird contemporary with dystopian elements that haven’t fully gone away yet) orrrr plan out something a bit more literary! I’ve fought with myself over this since April, and still don’t know where I’m going, but I’m missing my chaotic diva narrator Reeve and would love to get back into her head! 

This book has gone through about 3 openings, and I haven’t fully landed on any yet. I’m rethinking how I want to start this book, but taking my time with Moth Work to work me up to the timeline in HWT (which takes place about 8 months after the end of Rewired). I think I’ve shared most of this!

Some excerpts of first person retrospective Reeve (AKA Rachel trying to be Emma Cline looool):

Though the church was only a fifteen minute walk from the apartment, I packed a picnic basket of cha siu bao and a bottle of red wine and wore heels so they would know I wasn’t Christian. The basket wasn’t mine and neither were the bao—these were both things I’d taken from Liu. This wasn’t the first time I’d stolen from her. I’d once taken her fifty-dollar jar of saffron from the pantry because I’d heard it was the most expensive spice and wanted to feel rich. I took her jade Buddha necklace because she’d left it in the back and I wanted to feel cultured in her city, I wanted to become her history. The saffron jar was replaced. She didn’t comment when I wore the necklace at my next shift. This was why Liu and I worked well together. She pitied me so would never fire me, even when I skipped shifts and cussed at the customers. I felt entitled to her things because she was kind to me. I felt entitled to her kindness. 

lol I haven’t read this in months and it made me laugh #valid:

I crossed the street before the streetlight changed because this is how I lived in New York City. The world was unfair and lightless and I was an atheist who believed in God, walking in five inch heels on a busted road in the ghetto so I could get enough holy water to drown the ghost out of my apartment. 

When all else fails, add a dash of mother:

The air that summer was always the same: dense and wet, even on the good days. It clung to my arms and threatened to erode the skin there, even when it wasn’t sunny. I remembered my mother’s insistence of sunscreen when I was a child; before the pool, in the pool, out of the pool, when we weren’t even at the pool. Her hands were always cold and the sunscreen was always liquid—Izzy was never good at temperature or putting things in the right places. She’d put the instant coffee in the fridge and the cream on the counter. She’d cook the eggs too long and the ice too little. My father would criticize her as a joke and she’d threaten a divorce. This was the only thing I knew was true about my mother. Sunscreen was expensive, so I never bought it. 

Reeve bringing out the drag:

“Grab me a pack of cigarettes?” I shifted the picnic basket so it rested in the crook of my elbow.

“ID?”

“You don’t need my ID.”

“I ID every customer. You’re nothing special, baby.”

The man’s mustache wilted in the tungsten light of the variety store, spindly like loose threads. My father had grown a mustache like that once, and it took only two nights before my mother cut it off in his sleep. Izzy was brash like that, and I wanted that too; to find a pair of scissors in one of the aisles and chip at that flaccid mustache. There was nothing special about this man, either. All men in New York City tried to look like that; facial hair like coiled up leeches, a gut they pretended wasn’t a gut, but the fault of an unflattering polo from their wives. I imagined the snip of the kitchen scissors on my father’s upper lip, the same snip I heard the next day when he clipped the evergreens lining the walkup. There was something coarse about how similar it all was—pruning trees, grooming facial hair. I had turned twenty that spring—it would’ve taken only a minute for him to pass me a pack, but this was too easy. I wasn’t biological in New York City; I shouldn’t have been. 

5. Fostered But It’s Magic

So this was never meant to be a full project, though I had hoped to write a bit of it just for fun and never got around to it! FBIM (obvi working title lol) is exactly what it sounds like: the Fostered series but with a magical twist! I don’t write very much genre fiction, nor have I ever written fantasy, but a few months ago, felt drawn to the idea of putting Fostered in a magical world (my comp titles are SHREK 4 meets HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE). 

I don’t have any of this written, but I do have a few notes which I can share! 

I didn’t realize I’d made a tag yourself writing these notes but (I’m Lonan):

Reeve is a magical con artist who runs her own business selling bootleg magic. 

Lonan is absent and part bird

Harrison *believes* he is #magic free but has been recently getting hot flashes during nightmares.

Foster has an in-home herbalism business where he helps mostly the elderly and children. He has a cart that he wheels monthly into town. Kind of a failing business.

The gist is that Harrison (who we’d be following) can’t sleep due to hot flashes and nightmares of his ex (@ Lonan) and is referred to a small business run by a clairvoyant who promises to make all psychological problems disappear—relationship issues, sleep issues, life issues. This clairvoyant is actually Reeve who is telikinetic of some sorts, and doesn’t actually provide magic, but manipulates (usually weak) brains, AKA tricks people into paying her large sums of money when she gives them no magical help in return. We ALSO have a “past” plotline, and this is the very loose logline I’d written down (tho if I ever write any of this, is subject to change):

After being tormented by nightmares of his ex lover resulting in violent hot flashes and an inability to keep up employment, Harrison seeks a magical intervention. When the clairvoyant he hopes will cure his strange ailment turns out to be a con woman—and his old friend—he is thrown back into the past and forced to rekindle relationships he thought he’d left behind.  

Some dialogue I wrote down ft. clairvoyant Reeve being Reeve:

H: Why are you doing this? 

R (reapplying lip colour): Is my lipstick distracting you? The colour is dazzling.

H: It’s bullshit. 

R (abruptly stops drawing on lip colour): The lipstick? 

H: Your work.

My fave interaction tho has to be this bit I’d noted down with pure Foster comforting Harrison after a nightmare:

Foster *reading on couch when Harrison wakes up in #panique*: What happened? Harrison? Do you need some eucalyptus? 

*do u need some eucalyptus*

That’s basically all the writing related things I didn’t finish in 2019! I’d love to explore them all in 2020 though! Thanks for asking. :)

--Rachel

#writing #fostered #amwriting #writeblr #writerblr

[theoxofthezodiac]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO.

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE A PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO?

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?  — Generally I like/try to stick as closely to canon as possible, but I also LOVE AUs and looking into stuff that happens after the canon and before the canon!!

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  Aaahh fuck um listen: I trust myself to do two things exceptionally well—shitposting and feeling feelings. That in mind, I’d like to say I’m also very good at writing top-tier, big brain crack threads and “oh fuck that shit hurted” angst. Also, Haru is the best of both worlds: he can give you himbo AND soft boy. He’s a big brother who’s split a watermelon. Are you a pussy who can’t handle haunted houses (like myself) he’s the muse for you, turning irrational fear into a tear-jerking cathartic experience. Pls interact.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  I’m gonna level with you: I’ve got a bit too much of a soft spot for soft boy Haru, and thus my skills at writing Dark Haru are not the best developed. Also I can be quite slow with replies oop.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  Furuba means so much to me. Like a lot of people I found it around age like 14ish and it’s stayed with me ever sense. It’s my favorite book series and I believe the strongest argument for graphic novels/manga having literary merit. It has the best character development I’ve ever read. It’s so cathartic and I related so deeply to many of the characters.

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  A lot of my inspiration comes from watching the anime and rereading the manga, also reading other people’s threads and seeing memes. I go through periods of focusing on my various hyperfixations and I hyperfixate on them...and sometimes that’s Furuba.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO.

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO.

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO.

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO.

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / 50/50 / NO.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  — Of course!! As long as it’s like actual criticism and not just an anon saying “fuck u, u suck” 

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  — YES

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  — Yes!! A lot of my headcanons come from my personal experiences and my personal interpretation of Furuba. Like any other book/series everyone interprets it different and I love hearing other interpretations, even if we choose different hills to die on.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  It makes me kinda sad, but tbh if someone doesn’t like it they don’t have to follow me and we can just kindly ignore each other lmao.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  —  My portrayal? Ight whatever. The character itself? I’d like to know why. Like, Haru isn’t one of them, but I know there are problematic characters but that doesn’t mean you can’t like them as a character. Idk I understand hating characters but I’d only love to hear (valid) reasons why. Tangential but I am EXHAUSTED by all the Kagura hate and “discourse.”

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  PLEASE DO HOLY SHIT!!! Sometimes I notice them after I see the thread and I want to shove my entire laptop down my throat but if I do I always try to go back and fix them before anyone notices (oops) but if you notice it and I don’t pls tell me.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   —  I really try to be as non-intimidating as possible because I’m actually intimidated by everyone else lmao. Like I know my rules may come across a bit cold/blunt but I myself try not to be.

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

Tagged by: @jezebelsmultimuse​  thank you!!

Tagging: anyone who wants to/sees this!!!

#ooc #long post #tag games #( italics are things i'd like to explain my answers arent as black and white on those lmao ) #( i don't wanna sound like a manga elitist bc i'm really not but it bothers me when anime onlys dogpile hate on to characters whose arcs are #not complete and aren't really known y'know? ) #( and thats on kagura being actually a good character )

[lavenderlattaes]

smitten. | min yoongi

⇒ summary: Min Yoongi had been your best friend for as long as you can remember, and he loves spoiling you rotten. Yoongi loves you more than he probably loves his Audi but you’re not so sure about that, yet. Until your friends start pointing it out to the two of you.

⇒ [college! au, rich kid! au, friends to lovers! au]

⇒ pairing: min yoongi x reader

⇒ word count: 12.9k words

⇒ genre: tooth-aching fluff, I suppose and,,, would u consider this slowburn

⇒ warnings: curse words, 12k words of word vomit lmao, and it’s too sweet for diabetic peeps sksk

⇒ note: hello, tumblr. It’s been a while, lmao. This fic wasn’t supposed to be this long, it was supposed to be a drabble idk what happened. ignore mistakes bc im a bit of a blind bat and enjoy!  ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

You push the car door open, and your beaten-up white Converse hits the gravel as you get out of the car. You close the car door shut behind you, slinging your backpack on your shoulders as you squint up at the massive school buildings standing gloriously underneath the early summer sun. You hear the trunk open and the sound of suitcases hitting the ground snaps you from your daze. You turn around and see your best friend Yoongi unloading your suitcases.

“Oh, sorry!” You apologize, running over to him as you help him unload your suitcases. Yoongi takes his largest suitcase out last, slamming the trunk of his Audi shut, wiping the sweat trickling down his forehead with his forearm. You sigh and pull out your hanky from your pocket as you cup his cheek and wipe the sweat.

“You know that there’s things called towels and handkerchiefs, right? You should know that, you can probably buy an entire department store of it,” you tell him as you finish wiping his face and proceed to fixing his hair.

Yoongi just chuckles as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. You just smile as you finish fixing his hair. If it were some other person, Yoongi wouldn’t have let them touch his hair, but you were Y/L/N Y/N, his best friend, and he loves you a whole fucking lot.

Yoongi takes two of his suitcases in his right hand and holds your hand in his left. You take your suitcases in your left too, and he leads you to the main building where you’ll be getting your dorm keys.

“Are you nervous?” Yoongi leans toward you slightly, noticing your clammy hand as you approach the building and pass by a lot of students. Your shyness tends to resurface in the presence of a lot of people and you were thankful that your best friend was calm, collected, and cool to help you get through it all, ever since you were in high school.

Just as you reach the steps, you hear the familiar loud voices of your other three friends behind you.

“I’m telling you, Hobi, she was looking at ME! I mean, who wouldn’t? I’m obviously the ten out of the three of us here, you and Joon are eights,” the windshield wiper laugh of Kim Seokjin soon follows after his statement, and you and Yoongi turn around to see your friends, Jung Hoseok, Kim Seokjin, and his cousin Kim Namjoon, carrying their own things. Hoseok and Seokjin were both in a very intense conversation about a girl who, according to Seokjin, had the hots for him, despite Hoseok insisting that she was only looking at him because of the amount of pink in his arms. Namjoon, who was shaking his head at his cousin and his other slightly naïve friend, spots you and Yoongi first.

“Hey, Y/N and Yoongi are already here!” He slaps the broad-shouldered guy besides him, who stops talking Hoseok’s ear off before he quickens his pace to greet the two of you. Seokjin and Hoseok follow right behind him. Yoongi lets go of your hand so he can do their handshake, and the boys give you hugs.

“I didn’t think we’d all arrive at around the same time, Seokjin was taking forever,” Hoseok brings up and the boy beside him whips his head to cry out a complaint.

“YAH! I forgot to bring RJ, he was relaxing on my bed and didn’t call out to me, I was starting to think he really didn’t want to come with,” Seokjin hoists the huge, alpaca stuffed toy up higher.

Yoongi rolls his eyes at them. “Whatever. Let’s just go inside and get our keys and room assignments.” The boys nod and Yoongi takes your hand again, leading the way inside.

You twist the doorknob, and take a peek inside the plain, white room that will ultimately be your new home for the next four years. You step inside fully, pulling your suitcase along behind you. You bring it over to the side and Yoongi follows right behind you, carrying a few of your other things.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t get a roommate, won’t you be scared of sleeping in a room alone?” Yoongi speaks up, his eyes roaming around the room. You sit down on the bed opposite the one you’ve chosen to sleep on as Yoongi closes the door behind him. Your friends were all busy unpacking and while you told Yoongi to do the same too, he insisted on accompanying you to your room, saying he “wanted to make sure my best friend felt comfy in her new room”.

You laugh. “Yoongi, I sleep alone at home, remember?” You pull your legs up, folding them underneath you. Yoongi gives you a look. “You know what I mean. College life is stressful and scary, Y/N. Are you ready to face all of that alone?” Yoongi stresses out, making you snort.

“I’m having my classes in lecture halls, Yoongi. Not my dorm room. Besides, Joon and I share most of the same classes together, so I’m not completely alone. Plus, you talk as if I won’t see you and the others everyday.” You point out, and Yoongi nods and shrugs, getting your point.

He stands up and walks over to sit beside you. You twist your body to look at him and he looks at you, sighing, as he pulls your head in close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You smile softly at his gentle action, reaching forward to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Promise me you won’t die before the end of the first semester,” Yoongi whispers and you laugh, punching his stomach lightly. “Tell that to yourself, Min.”

Yoongi starts playing some of his songs while he helps you unpack. You talk occasionally but focus on getting the work done first so you can hang out with the other boys.

Min Yoongi had been your best friend from pretty much the moment you were conceived. Your parents – both moms and dads – were college buddies. They were the literal definition of friendship goals. Yoongi was a year older than you, but ever since you were both born, your parents always made the two of you bond together. Yoongi’s older brother hung out with your older brother, but they weren’t as close as you and Yoongi. When you were born, of course Yoongi’s family came to visit you and your mom at the hospital. Yoongi was barely two years old, but the moment his eyes fell on you, he fell in love. You were adorable and Yoongi already wanted someone to protect at such a young age. Yoongi was smitten for you the moment you were born. So, when you were a few months older, your parents organized play dates for the two of you already. Most of the time, you hung out at Yoongi’s place. His house was larger than yours by about two floors, so you had more playing space.

Yoongi was absolutely smitten for you – whatever it was that you wanted, for as long as you both could remember, Yoongi would hand it to you on a silver platter. You remember when you were both around six years old - you wanted to have his stuffed toy poodle, and even though it was Yoongi’s favorite stuffed toy, he didn’t hesitate to give it to you. No matter though, because years later, Yoongi bought an actual toy poodle that he named Holly.

Growing up, you were the loud, outgoing one, while Yoongi was on the quieter side. It wasn’t until high school when you became good friends with Hoseok, Seokjin, and his cousin Namjoon that Yoongi started breaking out of his shell. Hoseok and Seokjin were especially loud and they always made Yoongi laugh. Namjoon was loud too, but because the boy had a thing for destroying things in his path, he chose to be quieter so he wouldn’t attract too much attention from being so loud and breaking everything along the way. It was also in high school when you started to get shy – you were faced with the reality that you were a teenager already and that soon enough, you’d have to face the world without Yoongi by your side. Everything was starting to overwhelm you, so you turned to writing pieces of literary work. You thought back then that you’d end up alone, but you found yourself hitting it off really well with Namjoon, comparing famous literary works, writing your own pieces, and asking for constructive criticism from one another.

Your fun, lovable group of five stayed together all of high school, and now up until college. You were all so excited and happy to get accepted into the same art university, a three hour drive away from home. You’re taking up creative writing with Namjoon, Hoseok will take up dance, Seokjin with theatre, and Yoongi with music, majoring in piano.

In the middle of a Halsey song, Yoongi breaks your line of thought (which was just you singing along to Roman Holiday, anyway). 

“Hey, do you wanna go get some food with the guys? They’re downstairs.” You fix your ponytail and nod, smiling.

“Sure, I’m starving anyway.” Yoongi ruffles your head and grabs his stuff while you do the same. 

“Come on, it’s my treat.” Yoongi opens your door and lets you go out first. 

“It’s always your treat, Yoongi. When was it not?” Yoongi laughs at that. “True.”

“Make sure to turn them in before the end of next week, okay? I’ll be expecting a lot from you all; you seem like such a promising batch of writers,” Professor Bang says, making you and the rest of the class respond with “yes” and “okay”, just before you stand up to leave.

“Have you thought about what to write for your essay, Y/N?” Namjoon asks you as you both make your way outside the lecture hall along with the other students. 

You purse your lips in thought. Professor Bang wanted to start off the semester by making you write about anything that you were comfortable with. He wanted you to show him the things that you were concerned about, the things that were close to you, and you wanted to make sure you left a lasting impression in his class. Professor Bang was someone you could see yourself remembering for a long time, even if the seasons have changed and the days have gone by. He knew how to teach, not because he was smart, but because he was inspired, because he loves what he’s doing, and he wants to share that with students like you and Namjoon. He was a jolly person, but he also wanted to push you to your limits, something you’ve noticed during the hour and a half class with him that morning.

“Hm, I don’t really know yet. Maybe something about transitioning from being a teenager to an adult, the ups and downs that come along with it, the rush of it all. How about you?” You look up at the tall guy beside you, and he pushes his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

“I want to write something about self-love, about what it means to love yourself, despite your flaws and imperfections.” You smile; Namjoon has always been the smartest in your group, always contemplating about things. He had a habit of thinking things through properly, instead of making rash or impulsive decisions.

“Professor Bang makes me want to wear my heart on my sleeve and I don’t know why. He’s that kind of teacher that you want to impress and show all your best sides to, but at the same time, you want to show him all your worst points too, because you know he won’t hold it against you or judge you for it,” Namjoon says your thoughts out loud, making you nod in agreement.

“I really want to do well in his class, I’ve already taken a liking to him,” You reply and suddenly, an arm slings around your shoulder. The familiar smell of his cologne wafts through your nose and you smile, turning to the boy standing beside you.

“Taken a liking to who?” Yoongi asks, raising his free hand up to Namjoon as a greeting. The taller boy raises his eyebrows smiling.

“Professor Bang. He’s like, our favorite teacher now.” You explain and Yoongi lets out an ‘aah’.

“Are you up for some lunch right now? Seokjin and Hobi are at this cool diner ten minutes away from here,” Yoongi asks the two of you and Namjoon shrugs.

“Sure, why not?”

When you get to the diner, Seokjin and Hoseok are in another intense conversation again. “I’m telling you, Hobi! She was looking at my broad shoulders!” Seokjin explains dramatically, Hoseok’s eyes were wide as saucers as he sipped on his Sprite, listening to Seokjin. Seokjin leans back in his seat and says casually, “She might even be looking for ways to get my number right now.”

Walking up to them, Yoongi places a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder and says, “She was probably staring at the alpacas resting on both shoulders as if they were your devil and angel.” Yoongi pats the alpaca heads sewn on Seokjin’s shoulders. Seokjin had a weird obsession for alpacas, it was insane.

“Why is it that all of you refuse to believe someone’s actually into me? Why do you all keep on insisting that it’s because of my fashion taste? Tsh,” Seokjin complains, scooting over so you can sit next to him. He pats your head and you bump his shoulder in response. Yoongi sits beside Hobi in front of you, and Joon takes the seat at the end of the table.

You give the exasperated man beside you a side hug as he picks up a chicken wing, groaning under his breath. “That’s okay, Seokjinnie. It’s just because they’ve never seen you actually charm the pants off someone,” You try to console him as he pouts while deboning his chicken.

“Oh, don’t boost his ego any further, Y/N,” Yoongi teases, making Hobi and Joon laugh. You pout and give him a look. “I’m not! You guys just don’t appreciate his visuals, right?” You coo and turn to look at Seokjin who finishes his chicken and puts it down, nodding furiously.

“Ah, come here, Y/N!” Seokjin pulls you in, his greasy fingers reaching out for you as you lean back, laughing. He glares at you but still pulls you in, careful to not stain your baby pink blouse. “I only care about Y/N in this friendship now, she’s the only one that can understand me. Look, she’s even wearing my favorite color!” Seokjin’s windshield wiper laugh starts up.

Namjoon throws his head back, Hobi slams his hands on the table, and Yoongi’s shoulders shake as they laugh at their eldest friend’s antics. “Yes, now give me some love and feed me,” You reply, opening your mouth for Seokjin to feed you. The boy stops laughing, a serious look on his face replacing his huge grin earlier.

“Look, Y/N. I know I said I care about you, but this is MY chicken,” Seokjin explains seriously. You pout at that and Yoongi, your ever-loving best friend swoops in.

“Stop asking for food from him! He only cares about RJ, come on, I’ll get you food,” Yoongi stands up and you follow suit.

“Oh come on, why do you always treat Y/N out for food? What about us?” Your friends protest and Yoongi squints his eyes at them. “This is my best friend we’re talking about here,” he says matter-of-factly. “Then what are WE? Are we just trees to you now?” Hoseok whines and Namjoon snorts at that.

“You’re my friends, duh?” Yoongi shrugs and you laugh. “Come on, Y/N. You want some milkshake too?” Yoongi turns around.

Namjoon lets out an obvious cough. “Whipped,” he mutters and Hoseok and Seokjin laugh. Yoongi turns back around. “What was that?” he asks, and the boys shake their heads at him.

“Nothing,” Namjoon says casually. Yoongi shrugs, turns back around and pulls you with him to the counter.

Yoongi: something’s up with you. Meet me in the parking lot, we’re going somewhere

You sigh when you read Yoongi’s text. You text back a simple ‘okay, be there in a bit’, before making your way to the other side of the school. Even though you knew Yoongi your whole life, it still amazes you how much he can sense when something is wrong. You haven’t texted him yet about how terrible your day went, and here he is, sending the first text. You look up and think back to the events that happened an hour prior.

It’s the week after the deadline of your essay for Professor Bang’s class and during class that day, he returned your essays, red writings scribbled onto your notebooks. On top of yours, in a slightly messy handwriting were the words, “good job, y/n, see me after class please”. You smiled gently at that but then saw the long note he wrote on Namjoon’s. You were starting to doubt your work, so when class ended, you hastily made your way to the front of the room.

Professor Bang was fixing his things and you waited for the last student to walk out, giving Namjoon a close-lipped smile to let him know he should go ahead. He nods and you turn back around to face Professor Bang.

“Y/N, please sit down, kid,” Professor Bang tells you when he looks up, and you nod, grabbing a chair in the front row and bringing it closer to Professor Bang’s table. You gulp. Professor Bang was a short man, slightly on the chubbier side and had small eyes that disappeared whenever he smiled. He was absolutely adorable, but right now, you were starting to doubt that.

“Why did you call me over, Professor?” You ask timidly. Professor Bang scrunches his face up, removing his glasses as he sits comfortably. “It’s about your essay, Y/N.” He answers and you sit up straighter. “Um, what about it, Sir?”

“Do you remember what I told you when I gave you this assignment?” Professor Bang asks and you pause for a bit. 

“You, uh, told us to write about anything we were comfortable with; things that we were concerned about, things that were close to us,” You answer.

He nods. “But you know what else I said? I told you to write without restrictions, to write without thinking much about it,” he tells you and you frown lightly.

“I don’t think I quite understand what you mean, sir.” Professor Bang gives you a gentle smile.

“You wrote about something you were concerned about, correct? The transition of being a teenager to an adult,” he begins, and you nod. “You gave a wonderful essay, actually. But it had no soul, Y/N.” He says, leaving you confused. “When I read your essay you know what I thought? ‘This kid is smart, she’s talented, but she’s also trying too hard,” he explains and your heart drops.

Well. That hurt.

“In my class, Y/N, I want you to write for yourself, not for your grades. I want you to write because you want to, not because you want good grades, or because you want me to notice you. Believe me, I notice all of you. I know who you are when I read your essay. I know the kind of person you are, or you want to become. There are things you were keeping from me in your essay. There were also things you shouldn’t have included in your essay. You were keeping your true self from me. I want you to work on that, okay? Stop thinking about things that could happen in the future and start thinking about the things that could happen now. Focus on the now, rather than the later.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” Yoongi’s voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up, realizing you’ve mindlessly made it to the parking lot, and in front of his car, no less. You sigh and just look at him. Yoongi steps closer to you, extending his arm out to you. He’s wearing all black today, but the rainbow bracelet you made for him during an arts and craft class in the summer when you were only ten rests comfortably on his wrist.

“Come on, just you and me, yeah?” Yoongi asks you gently, and you nod, reaching forward to take his hand in yours. When you look up at him, you see other students from your peripheral vision stopping to look. Yoongi notices and squeezes your hand to get your attention. You look back at him and nod again. “Okay.”

Yoongi leads you over to your side of the car and he opens the door for you. You get in and he closes it behind you, casually walking around to his side. You see him wave to a few girls who soon giggle after the interaction and snort. Yoongi opens the door and gets in. He puts his key in the ignition and starts up the car.

“Who were those girls?” You ask, and Yoongi hums. “Some girls in my class, according to Seokjin they have the hots for me, but I don’t really know what that means.” You laugh as Yoongi pulls out of his parking space and you twist in your seat, folding your legs underneath you.

“Hey, watch it. I don’t want my seat getting dirt on it,” he calls you out, his eyes never leaving the road. You pout at him and drop your legs, a grin spreading across Yoongi’s face. 

“Just kidding. You can pull your feet up. I’ll just have it cleaned if ever, anyway.” You roll your eyes at your best friend.

“Wow, Min Yoongi sure loves flexing his limitless credit card in front of me, his very much broke and short on cash best friend, Y/L/N Y/N.” You proclaim sarcastically, and Yoongi laughs at you, casting you a side glance.

“Hmm, I think it’s more like, Min Yoongi loves flexing his limitless credit card in front of you, his very much broke and short on cash best friend Y/L/N Y/N because he loves you and would spend all of it on you anyway.” Yoongi tips his head at you and you shrug, nodding.

“True.”

Thirty minutes later, Yoongi stops at a cliff overlooking the entire town. The sun was just beginning to set, so you can just about imagine the beautiful scene painted in front of you.

You slowly make your way to the edge of the cliff and lean against the metal railings. You stare into the horizon, the wind blowing in your face. You soon close your eyes, your worries melting away as you just take it all in. You feel Yoongi’s presence beside you when his cologne wafts through your nose like usual. You hum softly.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask him quietly, your eyes still closed. 

Yoongi lets out a puff of air and shrugs. “I found this place last week when I didn’t have inspiration for a composition. It helps me clear my mind, you know. Being here. You were going through something, and I just kind of wanted to help ease your worries, I guess.” He explains softly. 

You open your eyes and turn to look at him.

To someone who hasn’t known Yoongi their whole life, he was the dark and always angry sort of guy, because he always gave off a dark vibe, wearing fine, expensive clothing that was most of the time black. He stood out among his friends because Hoseok was loud, bright, and giggly; Namjoon was silent, smart, and reserved; and Seokjin…well, he was loud, funny, and attractive. Yoongi was far too different to be part of their circle if you gave them a once over and left it at that alone. But you knew him your whole life. Yes, he did give off that vibe no matter what he did, yes, he stood out among his friends like a sore thumb, but nobody knew how soft and tender he was when it came to you. His friends feared him at times too; when he was in a particularly bad mood (although it was a rare), but never in life were you ever scared of him. 

Yoongi always made you feel safe.

And when you look at him now, it didn’t matter that he was wearing all black and probably looked like the typical rich kid bad boy in all those cliché teen novellas. It didn’t matter that he would probably punch someone in the face if they dared touch his Audi. Because when you look at Min Yoongi now, you only saw your best friend since diapers, you only saw the guy who promised to care for and protect you no matter what.

“Thank you, Yoongi. I really needed it,” you whisper, and he smiles at you, something other people don’t see often, but something you saw on the daily. He pulls you in for a hug and you rest your head comfortably on his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist as he wraps his around your shoulders.

“Whatever it was that bothered you, you’ll get through it. I know you can. You don’t have to tell me now if you don’t want to. Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears.” Yoongi tells you and nod. He squeezes you gently and kisses the crown of your head.

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Anything for my Y/N.”

“Hey, guys, where’s Yoongi?” You greet Hoseok and Seokjin, as you and Namjoon sit down beside them at a table in the café your group has been frequenting at lately.

Seokjin stops eating his second serving of the banana muffin to look at you, a disappointed look on his face. 

“Yah, Y/N. Are you going to ask about Yoongi first before the people that actually invited you over?” Seokjin dramatically complains and you roll your eyes at your overly dramatic friend. You move to sit beside Hoseok instead and Namjoon sits beside the drama queen.

Just to spite him, you use Hoseok’s fork and stab a piece of his banana muffin, shoving it quickly in your mouth. You smirk when Seokjin gasps dramatically and faints, resting on Namjoon dramatically. No wonder he’s a theatre major. The younger boy rolls his eyes at his cousin but lets him stay there.

“He’s in one of the studios, he’s busy composing,” Hoseok answers your question. You give him a hug and he giggles at your action. “Thanks Hobi, you’re definitely not like that dramatic hoe across from me.”

Upon hearing you call him a dramatic hoe, Seokjin sits up straight. Just as he’s about to cry out another complaint, three girls walk up to your table, stopping Seokjin.

“Hi, Seokjin,” the girl in the middle greets, a sweet smile on her face. You bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. Seokjin flashes her a charming smile, which you must admit, does look great on him. 

“Hey, Sana,” he greets coolly. Namjoon and Hoseok just watch, and Seokjin revels in the fact that his friends can finally see him charm a girl.

“So there’s this new movie coming out after finals next week, um, do you maybe wanna watch it together sometime?” She asks as her friends giggle. 

Seokjin casts his friends side glance, smirking. Hoseok scratches the back of his head, that look on his face, and Namjoon just looks back and forth between Seokjin and the girl. 

You can only purse your lips, resisting the urge to laugh.

Seokjin shrugs. “Sure,” Sana bites her lip and smiles. 

“And Namjoon and Hoseok can come along too!” Her other two friends nod eagerly, and yours, Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s jaws drop. 

“Yeah, they’re coming along too,” Seokjin answers for them and all three of you snap your heads to look at him. What the fuck is he doing? Hoseok slaps a hand to his forehead and Namjoon can only hide his face in his hands.

The girls don’t seem to notice their discomfort about the arrangement because they even ask about Yoongi. “Is he coming along too? My other friend really likes him,” Sana says and just as you’re about to say something, Hoseok jumps in. 

“Um, I don’t think Yoongi hyung would appreciate that, he’s already dating someone.” 

You, Seokjin, and Namjoon all whip your heads to look at Hoseok.

“Really? But I’ve never seen him out with someone,” Sana’s friend, asks and Hoseok gulps, nodding. 

“He’s very private about their relationship, you see,” he chuckles nervously. 

The girls pout. “Well, that’s too bad. Anyway, I’ll text you?” Sana turns back to Seokjin who nods. She smiles at him and they say goodbye before walking away. 

Once they’re out of earshot, you turn to each other and both Hoseok and Namjoon turn to Seokjin. 

“What the hell man?!” 

Seokjin raises his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I scored you guys dates. They’ve been head over heels for you since like, midterms, have you never seen them look at you before?” Seokjin asks and the two groan.

“Of course we have! But we don’t know them!” Namjoon stresses. “Then this is the perfect time to get to know them!” Seokjin rebuts. 

“They’re not our type, hyung. Do you even know who likes who?” Hoseok cries out. Seokjin pauses, then looks up in thought. “Well, no… but—” Hoseok cuts him off.

“See! Why would you go out on a date if you’re not sure whether they like you or your friend?” Hoseok asks him. Seokjin snorts. 

“Yah! At least I didn’t tell them Yoongi was seeing someone when he clearly wasn’t!” At that, you look up from your phone, having given up on joining their conversation earlier.

What a great way to change the topic.

Hoseok sits back and sighs, closing his eyes, knowing he fucked up too. He rubs his temples, clearly exhausted.

“Yeah, what was that about, Hobi?” Namjoon joins in. You can only sit properly in your seat and turn to look at the boy beside you. Hoseok opens his eyes and decides, ‘ah, fuck it’, as he crosses his hands in front of him.

“Yoongi’s not seeing anyone, sure, but he soon will.”

The three of you furrow your eyebrows, not quite sure what Jung Hoseok meant. 

Noticing the confused looks on your faces, he sips his peppermint latte and looks at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and he shakes his head.

“I think it’s obvious enough that he’s smitten for you.” You snort at his statement and turn to look at Namjoon and Seokjin, who both catch on and soon have the same expressions on their faces, one that makes it look like they know something you don’t.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, confused. Namjoon sighs and you turn to look at him. “Yoongi likes you, Y/N. He may not know it right now, but he will.” You laugh nervously and shake your head. “No, he doesn’t. He’s always been like that with me, guys.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “It’s always been you. It’s always been different whenever you were involved. Yoongi’s different when you’re around.” 

“But, how?” You ask, still clearly confused. You honestly didn’t know what they were talking about. Nothing made sense to you; what did they mean by Yoongi being different when you were around? Yoongi’s still Yoongi.

“What’s so wrong with Yoongi liking you, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, placing a hand on your shoulder. You shake your head and shrug. “Nothing, I just don’t quite understand. How can Yoongi be different around me?” Seokjin sighs and fixes his hair.

“You’re both so dense, I don’t know why I’m friends with you,” he complains. “You’ll realize it eventually. I won’t spoon feed you both on this. It’s time for you to figure that part out for yourselves.” Seokjin finishes his muffin.

“Okay, I better get going, I have to meet up with some of my classmates, we’re revising for the finals next week,” Seokjin stands up and pats your head as he grabs his stuff. You all say goodbye to him and he heads out.

The three of you stay for a little bit longer before you decide to head out. The sun was already beginning to set. You say goodbye to Hoseok and Namjoon; Hoseok had to stop by the dance studio and Namjoon was heading for the library.

Finals week is next week but you were in no mood to study and review for it just yet. The events from earlier kept clouding your thoughts and you didn’t know what to think of it all. So, instead of heading for the library, you make your way to the field where you see other students sitting together in groups, talking, studying, and hanging out amongst themselves. 

You make your way under a huge tree and sit down, placing your books and backpack beside you as you lean on the tree trunk. Folding your legs, you wrap your arms around your shins, resting your head on the space between your knees.

You allow your mind to drift off and think of Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok’s words from earlier. Of course Yoongi likes you, you’re his best friend. But Yoongi liking you in a different sense? You weren’t so sure about that. Sure, he’s affectionate and overprotective with you, but that’s probably because he sees you like a little sister.

But then again, you do notice that Yoongi really is different with how he treats you, ever since you were little.

“Y/N! Come sit beside me, I wanna show you something,” an adorable, 5-year old Min Yoongi with a few missing teeth beckons you to come sit beside him on the piano chair, his small legs dangling underneath him. You make your way over to him, your fingers still slightly sticky from the lollipop you just ate. You clamber up the piano chair, courtesy of the small stool placed next to it.

Yoongi grins at you and you merely look at him, before your eyes drift over to the white music sheets laid out in front of him. Your best friend was a prodigy and you knew that. The slightly shaky handwriting of his musical notes on the sheets were enough evidence for you to know that he composed it himself.

“What’s that, Yoongi?” you finally say, pressing a sticky pointer finger to the white sheet music. Yoongi gently takes your hand off the paper and places it back onto your lap as he looks at you with a bright smile on your face.

“I made this song for you, Y/N! I want you to listen to it carefully, okay?” Yoongi tells you and you grin excitedly.

Yoongi turns to face his piano properly and ever so delicately, he places his fingers on the black and white keys, his fingers dancing over them so effortlessly. It didn’t matter that his hands were still a bit too short for the huge piano, he still hit each and every note with precision. A beautiful melody fills the room and your eyes brighten up at the sound of it.

When Yoongi finishes, you tackle him in a hug, not caring about your sticky face or fingers at all.

“That was pretty, Yoongi!” he giggles at your reaction and hugs you back with the same enthusiasm.

You smile fondly at the memory, that was the very first song Yoongi ever composed, and he was only five. He made it for you and even named it after you. Up to this day, that was your favorite composition of Yoongi’s.

The wind picks up and your hair blows not so gracefully in your face. You sputter after your hair gets stuck in your mouth and a melodious laughter comes from behind you. You turn around and sure enough, your best friend is standing there, a bright gummy smile on his face. His shoulders are shaking slightly as he laughs at your expression and walks closer to you.

You scoot over and make some space for him. Yoongi flops down beside you, letting out a relaxed sigh after doing so. He gives you a side hug, patting the top of your head and you line your head on his shoulder.

“How did composing go?” you bring up and he clicks his tongue. “It went great, I think I’m ready for finals next week. How about you?” Yoongi gives you his full attention. 

You shrug and he nudges you to continue.

“I’m having a hard time in Professor Bang’s class. I’m finding it hard to write anything without it coming off as trying too hard or with no effort at all. He wants me to write about me but I don’t quite get it. It’s been on my mind ever since you brought me to that cliff a few weeks ago. I’m never proud with the things I write and although Professor Bang doesn’t say much anymore, I can still feel that he’s still not contented with my work. He’s still looking for something,” you sigh and Yoongi squeezes your shoulder gently.

“You wanna know my secret?” Yoongi begins and you snort. 

“What are we, five?” Yoongi laughs. “You need to wear your heart on your sleeve. You need to let your guard down, Y/N. That’s how I compose such great songs. Being an artist kind of means like presenting yourself naked to your audience.”

You give him a look. 

“What I’m trying to say is, you shouldn’t hide who you are from your audience. You also shouldn’t try too hard to please or satisfy them. Go for what makes you happy. Go for what makes you sad, or angry, or frustrated, or confused. Don’t go for what makes them happy, sad, angry, frustrated, or confused. Your audience’s feelings will just follow through, you have to make them feel what you feel.”

You look at him in amazement, your lips parting slightly. Yoongi gives you a confused look. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“Now I know why you’re my best friend.” You proclaim and he grins at you.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You better, Min.”

Later that night, you pull out the worn journal that Yoongi gave you for your thirteenth birthday, something he bought on a trip with his family in Greece. You treasured it so much, because most of your favorite writings were in there and it’s been a witness to your best and worst moments. Your fingers trace the worn out pages, a smile growing on your face as you skim through your writings. 

You didn’t stick to one kind of literary work; you wrote whatever came to your mind. There were scribbles and doodles, and you even found some pages stained with tears, ink, and… chocolate?

Damn, you were quite the messy kid, weren’t you?

You reach a blank page and pull out a random pen - which turned out to have pink ink, from your pouch.

You pull the cap out and stick it in the other end, your hand hovering over the page, hesitating. You remember Professor Bang’s words and Yoongi’s advice from earlier. 

Slowly, you put your pen down and your fingers start writing the first few lines to a new piece.

Maybe it was the way he constantly made me smile,

Maybe it was how he’d always go the extra mile,

“It’s different when you’re involved,” they said,

You started filling up every corner and every crevice of my head.

Was this how it was supposed to be,

Should it have been you and me?

Well, you always left me lost in a trance,

So maybe we should give this love a chance.

You stop writing and your eyes scan what you wrote. Your lips part open slightly at the realization of what you just wrote. Were you writing about Yoongi? Was this what the boys were talking about?

You’re not quite sure about it, but you might just already be in love with Min Yoongi.

Yoongi was nowhere to be seen, and young little Y/N was already bored to death. You and Yoongi were supposed to be in the middle of a game of snakes and ladders, but the young boy had left the playroom to get something from his room. He hasn’t returned for only five minutes, yet you thought it felt like an entire lifetime.

Getting up from your spot on the floor, you make your way over to Yoongi’s grand piano sat in the corner of the large room. You eye pieces of paper lying on the floor, musical notes scribbled on it. 

Young, 3-year old you knew nothing about music, but the way the notes were scribbled on the paper left you intrigued. You crouched down, picked one up from the pile and brought it back with you to your previous spot, where your crayons were sprawled all over the floor messily.

You flop down with a huff and lies flat on your stomach, the sheet music in front of you . You pick up your chubby red crayon and bring it over the paper, pressing lightly as you start doodling all over Yoongi’s composition.

In the middle of your artwork, Yoongi walks in the room with a pink box and he gasps when he sees his best friend scribble over the composition he just finished yesterday.

“Y/N, no!” He drops the box and runs over to you as fast as his little feet can carry him. 

At the sound of Yoongi’s voice, you stop doodling and turn around, sitting up when you see Yoongi running over to you. Yoongi quickly grabs the sheet, his eyes frantically looking over the sheet music that was now covered with red doodles.

Yoongi’s eyes begin to water and although you didn’t quite understand it all, you knew that your best friend was upset. His bottom lip begins to tremble, and soon, tears flow from his eyes and he lets out a cry as he looks at his destroyed composition.

The sound of footsteps soon come closer and you turn around, seeing your mom and Yoongi’s mom walk in the room with confused looks on their faces. They spot the children sat on the floor and their eyes take in the scene in front of them - Yoongi was clutching a piece of paper in his hands, crying, and you were looking up at them, a confused look on your face mirroring theirs. 

“What happened here?” Your mom asks as they both bend down to you and Yoongi.

Yoongi turns to look at his mom as he cries. “Y/N scribbled all over my sheet music.” He crawls over to his mom and hugs her, hiding his face in her chest as he continues to cry. 

Both his mom and your mom turn to look at you, and it’s then that you realize it’s your fault. Tears fill your eyes as well and you stand up to hug your mom too.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you cry, hiding from Yoongi and his mom, ashamed of what you’d done.

At the sound of your crying, Yoongi stops crying and turns to look at you. He steps away from his mom and waddles over to you, his small hands reaching out to grab your arm.

“No, no, don’t cry, too.” He sniffles and he pulls you to face him. 

Reluctantly, you turn to face him and you try to stop crying as Yoongi squishes your face in his hands.

“It’s okay, I can do it again,” he tells you and you shake your head no.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi! It won’t happen again,” You cry and Yoongi can only nod. He pulls you with him, and he leads the both of you over to the grand piano. Yoongi gives you a side hug and he places his fingers on the black and white keys. Yoongi begins to play your favorite song, the very first one he wrote for you, snot and tears and all that.

You sniffle and calm down when you hear the familiar comforting melody. You wipe your snot away and rest your head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

Your moms watch the scene in front of them, knowing smiles on their faces.

“If our kids don’t end up together, I don’t know what I’ll do,” Your mom whispers to Yoongi’s mom as they leave the room.

Yoongi’s mom snorts. “Don’t worry, because by the looks of it, my son’s smitten as hell and he’s only five.”

Your mom laughs at that. “True.”

“Woah, are you okay, bubs?” Yoongi asks worriedly when he steps inside your dorm room and takes in the sight before him. 

Books and notebooks are open sprawled around your bed and on the floor, your pens and highlighters open and probably all dried up, your hair was tied up in a messy bun that probably hadn’t been brushed properly since this morning, and your laptop open in front of you while you sit on your computer chair, your left leg folded underneath you and your right leg stretched out all the way to your bed. Your laptop was playing Day6��s Congratulations, and you were furiously typing away, cramming through your essays that were also due during finals week.

Your glasses fall down the bridge of your nose and you sigh, taking them off before you turn around to greet your best friend.

“Hey, Yoons, what’s up?” You smile tiredly at him, reaching over your bed to push away your books and notebooks to make room for your best friend to sit down on.

You chuckle as he sits down, scratching your hair. “Sorry about the mess, I didn’t have the time to fix it earlier.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. But you should really take a break, don’t overwork yourself,” Yoongi smiles and ruffles your hair, making you laugh. You spot the gray flask in his left hand and your eyes widen.

“Is that soju?” You gasp and Yoongi nods. You lean forward and snatch the flask from him, twisting the cap open. You pour some of the alcoholic drink onto the cap and down it all in one go, the strong taste burning down your throat. You think that maybe Yoongi meant to bring this for you and not for him, because it’s your favorite flavor, classic. Yoongi could never tolerate the classic flavor of soju and he always opted for the fresh one.

Yoongi simply watches you take shot after shot of the alcoholic drink and smiles, knowing you’ll get a hangover the next day. Nevermind though, because he’ll take care of you anyway, and your first exam isn’t until 2:00 pm tomorrow. 

Once you’ve finished the entire bottle, you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, grinning drunkenly at your best friend. He smirks at the sight of you and stands up to save your work. He closes your laptop and crouches down to look at you. 

“You’re such an alcoholic, Y/L/N Y/N.” Yoongi comments and you can only giggle.

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You pat his cheek, and knock out dead on your desk, snoring away as your head rests on your laptop. Y/L/N Y/N is out like a light at 5:22 pm.

Yoongi’s gummy smile makes its appearance as you sleep soundly, without a care in the world. He turns around and stares at the mess cluttering around your room. Yoongi bends down and starts cleaning; he picks up your pens and highlighters and puts the caps back on, although he doubts that they’d still work (maybe you bought those kind that would last for up to 48 hours uncapped but he wasn’t so sure, knowing you), and he closes your books, making sure to stick in bookmarks in case those pages were important. He stacks your stuff on the extra table beside your desk and fixes your bed for you to sleep in.

Yoongi turns around and he laughs softly at the sight of your drool running down the side of your arm. Yoongi crouches down and he brushes the hair away from your face. Upon taking a closer look at you, he can see how much you’ve stressed yourself out this week. 

The dark circles under your eyes, the messy hair, and the way you snored were enough to tell Yoongi that you were dead tired. Even your drool told Yoongi that you were exhausted, because you only ever drooled in your sleep when you were worn out.

Yoongi carefully helps you out of your chair and onto your bed, where he tucks you in snugly. He turns the lights off and leaves only your night light on. Yoongi sits down beside you and simply admires the way you sleep (it’s not as creepy as you think it is!).

Yoongi watches the way your chest heaves up and down as your breathe slowly, soft snores leaving your lips. He watches the way a small smile is etched onto your lips, making you look so sweet and so innocent, like you didn’t just down an entire flask of soju in one go. He watches the way you shift to a more comfortable position, pushing your face further into your pillow.

And as Yoongi watches you sleep so peacefully, he realizes that he can get used to this - get used to watching you fall asleep, and maybe, just maybe, fall asleep with you. Yoongi thinks that if seeing you fall asleep makes him want to fall asleep with you, then maybe the idea of waking up with you isn’t so bad, either.

A soft mumble leaves your lips and you start to babble nonsense, things like “after the falling action is the denouement, and yay, the end”, and Yoongi smiles. 

Without realizing it, Yoongi leans forward, and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good night, Y/N.”

His heart flutters at his own action, and Yoongi smiles when he realizes it.

“I love my best friend. I love Y/N. I love you,” Yoongi whispers to himself, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form.

You are never drinking before an exam ever again. 

Your head is throbbing and you can’t move because every small action makes your head feel like it’s about to break. You can totally place the blame on your best friend because he didn’t stop you from downing the entire flask, but at the same time, it’s all your fault for even drinking in the first place when you knew you had an exam the following day.

You close your eyes and shield it with your arm as the 7:00 am sunlight streams in through the bedroom windows. Your stomach is grumbling and you realize that you didn’t even eat dinner last night because you fell asleep at 5:00 pm after drinking.

You badly want to get up and go find something to eat in your stash but like we’ve already established earlier, you can’t. So you endure your hunger until the hangover goes away. If it goes away.

The door opens and your savior walks through the door.

Thank God for Min Yoongi.

“Oh, you’re awake already. I brought you some aspirin and hangover food,” he greets you, closing the door shut behind him gently. Yoongi places his stuff on your chair as he makes his way over to you, helping you sit up. You’re groaning and clutching onto your best friend’s shoulders because you can’t bring yourself to sit up properly. 

Yoongi’s arms wound around your waist and - oh, come on, why now - butterflies erupt in your stomach, along with the acid and the hunger (okay that’s kinda gross). You scoot over to the wall and Yoongi places a pillow behind you to separate your back from the cold, hard wall.

Boyfriend material, anybody?

Yoongi opens the bottled water he bought and places a tablet of aspirin on your weakly opened palm. You take the medicine and finish the entire bottle of water, refreshing yourself completely.

Your head feels a bit better now and the pain is now tolerable. “Ugh, don’t make me drink before an exam again,” you groan and lean forward, clutching onto your stomach as you rest your head on Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi chuckles and although your head’s aching at his action, you like hearing his laugh. He strokes your hair gently and you scoot closer to him, practically clinging onto him.

“You wanna eat?” Yoongi asks you and you nod from your place in the crook of his neck. Yoongi reaches over to get your food. He starts feeding you saltine crackers and fruits and coconut milk and you think it’s weird but according to him it’s good for a hangover.

While you take small bites from the banana, Yoongi focuses all his attention on you. The sun shines on you in just the right spot; it hits your eyes perfectly that the natural color pops out prettily. Your cheeks are puffed out slightly and you chew on your banana in complete concentration.

You soon feel his gaze on you and your heart speeds up upon realizing it. Your senses are unbelievably heightened while you’re hungover, apparently. You swallow your last piece of the banana carefully before looking up at Yoongi.

When you do, a smile is on his lips and he looks at you with this strange look on his face; you’re not sure what it is, exactly. You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

“What?”

Yoongi shakes his head and he cups your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb gently along your cheek. His action causes more butterflies to erupt in your stomach, and at this point, you’re not sure if you want to vomit or eat some more.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yoongi whispers, his eyes never leaving yours.

You really can’t understand your best friend right now and you also don’t want to get your hopes up, so you laugh it off.

“I know I am, especially when I’m hungover,” you joke and you think Yoongi’s smile falters a bit, but he quickly covers it up with a grin.

He clears his throat, and stands up. You follow his actions, and he pats your shoulder gently.

“Get a few more hours of rest, you’ll feel better just before your exam, okay?” Yoongi tells you and you pout, making him want to just ditch his 8:30 exam to stay with you a little longer.

“Won’t you stay with me?” You tug on the hem of his yellow hoodie (wow, a change if wardrobe for finals week?), and he shakes his head ‘no’.

“Unfortunately, not everyone has exams that start at 2:00 pm. I’ve got my first one at 8:30 and it’s already 7:45. The building’s three blocks away from here, too.” Yoongi explains and you nod in understanding.

“That’s fine, good luck on your exam,” you reply, and Yoongi leans down to give you a kiss on the top of your head.

“Get some rest, love.” Yoongi whispers, making your heart speed up at the endearment.

“I will.” You assure him and he cups your face in his hands, rubbing your cheeks gently with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’ll call you, okay?” Yoongi asks and you smile, nodding.

He stands back up to his full height and makes his way to the door. He gives you one last smile before twisting the doorknob and stepping out.

The door closes and you wait for a few more beats before you sigh. 

Yes, you were definitely in love with your best friend and it wasn’t the heightened senses that came with the hangover.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” Hoseok claps his hands together excitedly, earning an eye roll from Seokjin and a smile from Namjoon. Yoongi can only stare at his friends in confusion.

“What do you mean, ‘I knew it’?” Yoongi asks and the three boys look at each other, sighing simultaneously.

“Hyung, everyone can see how much you’re in love with her, except the both of you. Have you never read those cliché best friends to lovers trope on Tumblr?” Hoseok asks and Yoongi merely shrugs.

“I don’t have time for that shit,” Yoongi deadpans.

“But you have time for Y/N,” Seokjin points out.

“Because he’s whipped, you guys,” Namjoon adds in.

“Whatever,” Yoongi dismisses his friends comments. “All I know is that I love her. I really, really, do.” Yoongi confesses.

“Then tell her!” His friends say in unison.

“I will! I’m just,” Yoongi pauses and they look at him expectantly. 

He looks at them before continuing, “I’m just trying to find the right time to confess, I think she feels the same way.”

Seokjin flips his bangs and sighs. “Not think, but know. It’s obvious how much you both love each other, Yoongi. Literally anyone with two eyes and common sense can see that.”

“Except maybe for those girls the other week,” Namjoon coughs into his shoulder and Hoseok bursts out in laughter, holding his hand up for a high five which Namjoon gladly reciprocates.

“Yah, don’t be mean, I think they’re really nice,” Seokjin defends them and Yoongi shakes his head at them.

Namjoon and Hoseok turn their attention to Yoongi and forget about the handsome elder. 

“So, do you need our help with confessing?” Namjoon asks.

Yoongi looks up in thought. “I haven’t really thought that far yet, all I know is that I want it to be something she’ll never forget.”

“You can maybe write her a song?” Hoseok suggests.

“I write her songs all the time,” Yoongi points out.

“Maybe you can take her out somewhere and prepare this really extravagant surprise,” Namjoon tries.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Y/N’s not into that, remember? I need this to be perfect,” he stresses.

Yes, Min Yoongi was hands down whipped for you because instead of worrying about his next exam set to happen in thirty minutes, he’s busy worrying about how he’s going to confess to you.

His friends sigh. 

“Hyung, I think you should take a break. Go prepare for your exams, yeah?” Namjoon suggests and Yoongi gives in.

“You’re right, I have one in thirty minutes.”

Hoseok smiles and stands up. “I’ve gotta go, mine’s in fifteen minutes.”

“And you’re that chill?” Namjoon looks amazed. Hoseok grins.

“The perks of being a dance major, baby,” Hoseok shrugs casually before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and making his way out of the café.

Seokjin lets out a relaxed sigh. “I’m all done for the day, so I’m going to go eat something somewhere and think of how you can confess to Y/N.” Yoongi gives his hyung an appreciative smile.

“Thanks, hyung, but don’t you have exams to prepare for?” Seokjin snorts.

“I studied all of last week, I think I’m all done. One more and I might actually go crazy.” Yoongi and Namjoon laugh at that.

Yoongi makes his move to stand up. “I’ll see you guys later, good luck.” He pats the guys on the back before he leaves.

On the short walk to his building, Yoongi pulls his phone out and presses on speed dial 1, of course, the one and only Y/L/N Y/N.

Y/N picks up after three rings.

“Hey, why’d you call?” Y/N’s sweet voice rings through the phone and a smile automatically makes its way to Yoongi’s face. 

“Hey, how are you feeling, bubs?” Yoongi inquires.

“All better, thanks to you! Although I’m kind of starving, I have an hour and a half before my first test,” Y/N chirps.

“Joon and Jin hyung are at the café, maybe you can go grab something to eat with them, I have an exam in twenty minutes,” Yoongi informs her.

“Okay! Good luck on that, you’ll do great,” Y/N tells him sweetly.

“Aaah, I know I will. You’re my lucky charm,” Yoongi smirks and he can just see Y/N’s blushing cheeks from the way she started to stutter.

“Uh...ha ha, okay, uh, gotta go, Yoons! Bye!” She immediately hangs up and Yoongi chuckles when he hears the line drop dead.

Yoongi shakes his head and slides his phone back into his pocket as he walks inside the music building.

The smile never leaves his face, even as he starts to answer his test all the way until he finishes it. The people he shared that class with started to worry for his mental health, because Yoongi never smiled this much, never smile this genuine. Well, he did smile occasionally, but there was something different with the way Yoongi carried himself that day that left his classmates slightly concerned for him.

“Hey, Yoongi. You alright, man?” Kyungsoo, a friend he talks to occasionally in his class asks.

Yoongi nods, a smile on his lips. “Yeah, why?”

Kyungsoo looks at him weirdly. He laughs it off. “Nothing. Just, if you need someone to talk to, I’m all ears,” Kyungsoo pats him on the back.

It’s Yoongi’s turn to look at him weirdly. “Huh, okay, Soo. Thanks.” Kyungsoo nods and leaves the room, just as a beep comes from his phone.

It wasn’t just any beep, it was your ringtone. Yoongi had set specific ringtones for your texts and calls, so he’d know if he has to answer the call right away or not.

Yes, Min Yoongi was both smitten and biased when it came to you.

lovely best bub [3:07 pm] : hello there

lovely best bub [3:07 pm] : are your exams done? im kinda hungry

Just seeing your contact name — which you set, not him, already sent a smile crawling up his lips.

Yoongi [3:07 pm] : yea, see u

Yoongi [3:07 pm] : hoseok still has one exam left, I’ll meet u and joon there

He begins making his way back to the café, navigating his way through the students and the hallways with his phone in his hands.

lovely best bub [3:08 pm] : it’s just me, joon says he still has something to do

Yoongi wishes he can go give Kim Namjoon a hug (but he would never admit that in front of him) right now.

Yoongi [3:08 pm] : okay lol

lovely best bub [3:08 pm] : see u there :DD

When Yoongi reaches the café,you’re already sitting in your usual spot, going over some of your notes while you sip on your iced latte. Yoongi walks over, a soft smile on his lips. He knocks on the table gentle. You look up, and a smile immediately graces your features.

“Hey, how was your exam?” You greet as Yoongi sits down in front of you.

“It went really well, how about yours?” Yoongi inquires as he reaches forward to hold your right hand, playing with your fingers while he waits for your response.

You blush at the action and Yoongi marvels at your flustered reaction. You soon brush it off like it was nothing and take a sip from your drink to, hopefully, help cool down your flaming cheeks.

“Great, too! I hope I really poured all of my heart into it that Professor Bang will be proud of it,” you reply and Yoongi squeezes your hand gently.

“I’m sure you did, you worked hard last night,” Yoongi reassures you and you laugh.

“I’m pretty sure I got wasted last night, Yoongi.” He laughs at your retort, agreeing with you.

“Yeah, I know, but I think you did study before I arrived with the soju.” Yoongi’s reply makes the two of you laugh.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Yoongi.” You give him a gentle smile.

He returns it with one of his own. “Anything for you, Y/N.”

Were you dense? Or was Yoongi not obvious enough? No, that can’t be it. He’s very transparent with his feelings for you, right? Min Yoongi can’t seem to understand why you don’t seem to notice his advances on you. At all. 

Finals week was done and over with, and for an entire week Yoongi has been trying to get you to see how much he likes you. Even during the break, Yoong did everything; he took you out on dates, gave you more gifts than usual, paid more attention to you (if he was attentive before, he got even more attentive now), and flirted with you every chance he got.

But it’s the start of the second semester now and he still hasn’t confessed to you yet. 

“I’m telling you, hyung! It’s like she pays no attention to anything I do at all. Are you guys sure she feels the same way?” Yoongi stresses, ranting to the broad shouldered male sat in front of him. The other two younger boys look at each other, giving each other that I’m tired, he’s spewing nonsense again look before grabbing Yoongi’s attention.

“Yes, she does! She probably thinks you’re just being your normal self around her,” Namjoon responds.

“But I’m not being my normal self around her…?” Yoongi trails off.

The boys sigh. “You are, you’re normally affectionate with her, Yoongi. So Y/N thinks you’re just being you,” Seokjin adds.

“Yeah, hyung. Y/N doesn’t think anything’s changed at all. Well, maybe she thinks you’re a bit more affectionate but she’s just probably just brushing it off as you being you.”  Hoseok pipes in.

“Then what do I do?” Yoongi asks, clearly pressed about everything.

Just then, the bell to the café’s door rings noisily and the four turn around to see Y/N rushing over to them. 

“Speak of the devil,” Namjoon mutters and Yoongi stares a him. “She’s not a devil, Joon.” Namjoon slaps his forehead.

“It’s an expression, hyung --” Namjoon’s cut off when you blurt out, “I need food.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow at you. “There’s food? Over there?” He points toward the cashier. You look over to where his index finger is pointing before turning back to them, shaking your head.

“I have class in like, 15 minutes, but I was hungry so I ran over here - because my building’s all the way on the other side - to buy something but when I was a few steps away from the door I realized I forgot my wallet at the dorms and the dorms are even farther away and I don’t have much of a choice anymore because if I still tried going back that would take me another 10 minutes or so and like I said, I only have 15 minutes and I’m really hungry so I can’t go back anymore and I just really need money for food.” You finish all in one breath, heaving lightly because you’re out of breath from running and explaining yourself.

The four look at you before Yoongi shifts in his seat, pulling his card out for you.

“Here, go buy something,” he holds it out to you. Your eyes lighten, and just as your about to take it, a light bulb goes off in Yoongi’s head and he withdraws his outstretched hand, halting your actions.

“What?” You ask, slightly agitated. 

Yoongi smirks. “Kiss me first.”

Your eyes widen, Kim Seokjin’s eyes widen, Kim Namjoon’s eyes widen, and Jung Hoseok’s eyes widen.

Wait, what?

A blush creeps up your cheeks, your palms start to clam up, and your heart starts beating faster. Oh, and your stomach grumbles for the umpteenth time too.

Yoongi only looks at you, the smirk still on his face, and his credit card resting in between his index and middle finger, just close enough for you to reach if you moved just a tad bit closer.

If you kiss Yoongi, he’ll definitely know your feelings for him. If you don’t it would make things awkward between the two of you. If you kiss him, at least you’d get food, right?

Yoongi’s starting to slightly regret his impulsive decision, but he freezes when you just go for it, and lean down to kiss his cheek, snatching the card in his fingers before you run out.

“What the fuck just happened?” Hoseok manages to speak up and Yoongi snaps out of his trance.

“Dude, what the fuck, go after her!” Hoseok shakes Yoongi who soon realizes what’s really going on. He stands up abruptly and goes after you.

“Wow, they’re a mess,” Seokjin comments as they watch Yoongi through the glass of the cafe.

“Come on, let’s go after them,” Namjoon stands up and Seokjin and Hoseok follow suit.

“Y/N, wait!” Yoongi calls out to you and when you hear his voice, you skid to a halt in the middle of the field, where some dance majors are running a routine. You attract the attention of the dance majors and they stop dancing to look at you. Clutching Yoongi’s credit card in your hand, you slowly turn around to face him.

He’s running over to you and he’s panting. When he’s close enough, he leans forward and rests his hands on his knees.

“You’re going to be late to class anyway, just, listen to me,” Yoongi wheezes out.

You bite your lip, your heart racing as you stare at the boy in front of you. When he finally catches his breath, he stands back up to his full height and looks at you.

“Yoongi, listen,I--” You begin, but he cuts you off.

“Y/N, I know you’re going to be late, I’m sorry but wait, just...let me get this off my chest because I might explode if I don’t let this out anymore, okay?” He holds you by the shoulders and you can only nod, flustered and confused at the same time.

From his peripheral, Yoongi can see a small crowd starting to form, he can see the boys somewhere too and the dance majors all stopped dancing to look at you both.

Oh, well.

Yoongi breathes deeply before he fixes his eyes on you and on you alone. 

Here it goes.

“Y/L/N YN, I love everything about you. I love the way you eat your ramen with a spoon instead of chopsticks because you’re always complaining about how your fingers hurt because you’re not the best at using chopsticks even though you’re supposed to be good at it, I mean gosh, you’re Korean you’re supposed to know that shit. I love how you can’t fall asleep without your blue and white flannel blanket because it’s the only blanket your body seems to like. I love how even though it’s beginning to smell so bad because of your drool and the food crumbs and the drinks that fall on it you still choose to use it. I love how you also sleep with that one pillow of yours that’s been there the moment I walked into the hospital room to see you bundled up in Auntie’s arms, eyes closed and without a care in the world because you were just born moments ago, and it’s so old that it’s not so fat and fluffy anymore, and oh, it also smells so bad too, seriously what is it with you and your things in bed smelling bad? Can they seriously not get washed? I love how you never use a brush to fix your hair because you’re that kind of person that just runs a hand through their hair a couple of times and you’re already good to go. I love how you scrunch your face up every time you insult one of the boys, every time you want to tease me, and every time you have your way because yet again, I’ve fallen victim to your ridiculous wishes and ideas. I love how every time you put food into your mouth, you’re pouting and chewing at the same, fuck, do you know what that fucking does to me, Y/N? It makes me go crazier and even more head over heels for you. I love how you always come to me for everything because you know that I’d never ever say no to you, it makes me feel like I matter so much to you. I love that you depend so much on me because yes, I want that so much, I want to spoil you so damn much. I love giving you all that you want, I love spoiling with anything that you want and need, no matter how stupid or out of this world or irrational it may be. I love it so much because I love the way your eyes light up like a thousand stars whenever I say yes, and fuck that’s so, so fucking cheesy but I don’t fucking care anymore because I’m pretty sure I’ve said too much that it’s enough to complete one whole damn song and I know I can’t sing but I can play the piano and compose songs so maybe I can rap too? And dammit, Y/N, I’ve loved you so much since the moment I probably first laid my eyes on you, or maybe when I wrote my first song for you and you asked me to play it for you every day. Hell, I may have even started loving you when you scribbled all over my sheet music with your big fat, red crayon. I love how you’re so selfless, how you get along with my boys, how you’re damn smart and ambitious but you’d much rather watch How I Met Your Mother and listen to angsty Day6 songs for hours on end while you wrote equally angsty prose and poetry. I love you every time you get wasted the night before an exam, drinking your stress and worries away with soju, complain about the hangover the next day and do it all over again despite promising to never do it again. I love that even though it gets you wasted because that just gives me an excuse to take care of you and have I told you that I love taking care of you? I love you for everything that you are and I’d fucking say more but dammit, we’re in public and people…people are beginning to record my confession, they were just looking at us…wait what the fuck? And I’m a blushing, stuttering mess and I’ve just poured my entire heart out to you, all these feelings I’ve kept bottled up since I was, I don’t know, five and you were three, and I’m not even fucking sure if you feel the same way but you just kissed my cheek back in the café so maybe that counts for something? Maybe it really was for the food, I don’t know. But god, I love you so much, Y/N and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way but I just want you to know that I don’t want things to ever change between us even if my feelings are out in the open already and I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve because I’m just so damn smitten for you. I love you, Y/N.” 

Yoongi finishes his rant, and he’s breathing heavily and his heart’s beating out of his chest and he doesn’t know what to do next because you’re just standing in front of him, eyes wide, cheeks a dark shade of red, and your heart ready to burst out of your ribcage at his confession.

For someone who’s a creative writing major, for someone who’s so good with words, you’re speechless. For the first time in your entire life, you’re speechless.

“So,” Seokjin shouts from the crowd, effectively catching both yours and Yoongi’s attention, “are you just going to stand there and keep him waiting or will you tell him you love him too?”

The crowd coos, and your eyes dart back to Yoongi’s. 

“Yoongi, I love you too.” You say simply and the crowd interrupts into cheers as Yoongi lets out a relieved sigh, stepping forward and pulling you into his embrace. Yoongi bends down to bury his face in your neck and you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he wraps his around your waist.

“Thank God you love me too, that would’ve been so embarrassing if you didn’t,” Yoongi whispers and you giggle.

You both pull away, and then turn to see that the crowd has dispersed, while your friends shot you thumbs ups before walking away to give you some alone time.

You look up at Yoongi, your smile bright as you see all the love and adoration Yoongi held for you.

“Well, you feed me well, Min Yoongi.” you reply, rising up on your tiptoes to kiss his nose.

“Oh yeah, let’s go get your food, I know you’re hungry.” Yoongi intertwines your fingers with his, leading you both back to the café.

“See, this is why I love you so much,” You grin, swinging your hands together.

Yoongi stops walking and turns to you. He cups your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks softly. “I love you so much, Y/N.” 

You hold onto his wrists and give him a mischievous grin. “More than your Audi?” You challenge, and Yoongi laughs heartily, kissing your forehead.

“A billion times more than my Audi.”

⇒ let me know what you think or hmu with anything under the sun here!

#bts one shot #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts yoongi scenario #bts yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi imagine #min yoongi #yoongi one shot #yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #sfw #yoongi fluff #nise writes

[sage-nebula]

Okay, so, I haven’t seen the live-action Aladdin. And while part of the reason why I haven’t seen the live-action Aladdin is because I didn’t want to pay sixteen dollars to go see it in theaters, the bigger, real reason I haven’t seen it is because I hate the way the changes to Jasmine’s character were marketed in order to try to draw people to this movie. (Side note: I realize this is a really old topic, but I just saw some people talking about this / agreeing with the marketing on YouTube, so it reminded me of why I was salty in the first place, and so I just need to get this off my chest.)

The long and short of it is this: In the original animated movie, Jasmine’s subplot was that her father, the sultan, was in a rush to marry her off to a prince before her sixteenth birthday. Jasmine, quite understandably, didn’t want to be married off to some rando who only saw her as a trophy (i.e. “a prize to be won”). Additionally, she was typically never allowed to leave the palace in normal circumstances, and she (quite understandably) longed to see the world outside of her home. Thus, she took every opportunity presented to her to not only do just that, but also tell her suitors (including Jafar, multiple times) to screw off. 

In the live-action remake . . . again, I haven’t seen the film myself, but to my understanding Jasmine’s subplot is now about wanting to become sultan herself, because she wants to do what’s right by her people. And that is a noble goal; I’m not about to criticize portrayals of royals who actually want to do something positive, because god knows we need more of those wherever we can get them. It is admittedly also nice to see a female royal who wants to (and I presume gets to?) step into that leadership role, to do what’s right by her people instead of just having to be secondary to whatever man she marries. So in theory, I don’t really have a problem with this.

But what I do have a problem with is all the people bashing animated!Jasmine, claiming that she never had agency, that Jasmine gets more agency in the live-action remake, and so on and so forth. Because live-action Jasmine has had “feminist” slapped on her by the marketing teams, suddenly she’s “better” and “more progressive” than the original Jasmine, who, mind you, was an extremely feminist character already!

Let’s review the facts, shall we? 

First of all, just to clear this out of the way: “agency,” in terms of literary analysis, is the ability of a character to make choices on their own. The only time in the original animated film that I can think of where Jasmine did not have agency is when she was in the hourglass. That’s it. Even when she was Jafar’s captive in scenes prior to that, she was resisting him at every turn, and took matters into her own hands to trick him into thinking she was finally interested in him as a husband. (Which, again, is gross considering she was about fifteen, but it was nonetheless a choice which was in her power to make. She had choice, therefore she had agency.) The very fact that people around her were trying to take her agency from her is the very thing Jasmine was rebelling against the entire animated movie. She was told to stay in the palace walls? She said “no u” and sneaked out. She was told to pick one of the rando princes to marry? She said “no u” and insulted said princes to their face until they stormed off. Aladdin tried to woo her with a giant parade? She said “no u” and rejected him as well until he showed her gentleness and a sincere consideration for her feelings. Her hypnotized father told her to marry Jafar? She said “no u” and wrenched her arm from Jafar’s grasp. Jafar put her in chains and told her she WOULD marry him? She said “no u” and continued to resist him every step of the way. In the original animated film, Jasmine continuously and constantly rebelled against any efforts to take her agency away from her. The entire reason why the sultan is so frustrated with her is because she insists on doing things her way or not at all. And that is incredibly feminist! The entire point of feminism is that women should have the power of choice. If a woman wants to be the ruler of a country, great! If a woman just wants to marry someone she loves and then go road tripping forever, awesome! If a woman wants to be a housewife and stay-at-home mom, that’s cool too. It doesn’t matter what the choice is, so long as the woman has it. And since Jasmine was fighting for her right to choose throughout the goddamn entirety of the animated movie, and ultimately won, that indeed makes her quite the goddamn feminist princess!

I also have to say that I do kind of bristle a bit at some of the other commentary surrounding the animated vs. live-action princesses as well, namely with regards to the, “Live-action Jasmine is better because she wants to take care of her people, whereas Animated Jasmine is petty and selfish.” Again, I think it’s great to see royalty in fiction who want to do right by their people. This is doubly-so for when those royals are princesses or queens or what-have-you. But I feel like this critique that implies that Jasmine is only a “good” princess or character when she’s wanting to take care of others instead of doing what makes her happy is a bit rooted in sexist stereotypes---that women aren’t allowed to be “selfish,” that women aren’t allowed to do what they want, and that’s not cool. Yes, it’s great that Live-Action Jasmine wants to do what’s right by her people with the power granted to her as sultan. I applaud her for that and think that’s great. But it’s equally as great that Animated Jasmine wants to go on adventures around the world with the man she loves. Animated Jasmine is not lesser because she wants to be happy. She’s not lesser for wanting to do what’s best for her. If she wants to abdicate the throne to travel the world (which isn’t what she does, mind you, but if she DID end up doing that), then by all means, that choice should be celebrated, because royal or not Jasmine doesn’t exist solely for the needs of her people. She exists for herself, and she should have the freedom to act on that. Again, that’s pretty much what feminism is all about.

So tl;dr: I haven’t seen the live-action Aladdin, and so I’m not commenting on that movie specifically. But I have seen the animated one many, many times (it’s one of my favorite Disney movies), and I’m so beyond tired of seeing the Jasmine from the animated movie bashed. It’s perfectly fine to like the Jasmine from the live-action remake. It’s even fine to prefer her! But to bash the original and say she’s not a feminist character, or that she’s not empowered, or whatever other nonsense just because she doesn’t particularly want to rule is just that---nonsense. Princess Jasmine has always been a feminist princess, fighting for the right to make her own decisions about her life, to be seen as a person to be loved rather than a prize to be won. And Disney’s marketing companies (along with their ride-or-die stans on the internet) don’t need to pretend like that isn’t true just to market the live-action version. It’s really not necessary.

#disney #aladdin #princess jasmine #Mulan is my favorite Disney heroine (along w/ my favorite Disney movie) #but of all the Disney princesses who are ACTUALLY princesses #Jasmine is probably my fave #and I really hate to see her (animated self) bashed like I have been #I really really do #that said ''Speechless'' is one helluva song #A+++++ i could listen to it all day

[bulletdove]

if u could change anything about aoaf what would u change?

AAAA this is such a good ask, thank you, i spent Way Too Fucking Long on this

(disclaimer: i don’t exactly support RPF, but i think it’s fine to consume it critically. it’s part of fandom, whether we like it or not. and fandom is an area of academic interest for me, so... you can’t understand something without researching it. yeehaw.) 

so here’s AOAF: the extended cut. ideally part of a critical edition, because i have academic aspirations.

AOAF stands on its own really well as original fiction, because it didn’t get into heavy speculation and based itself off of “what if”. but the plot was more emotionally loaded than the characters were, i think? (so as far as RPF goes, it’s not that scandalous or ethically dubious.). extended cut would be an Original Fiction type of deal, the same basis as the original one but taking the characters in a different direction and obviously renaming them

the ship plot was good, but that’s extremely Fic (which is a draw of the genre, but also seriously limits the development of non-romantic relationships) so that’d be changed. more family interactions in the present that aren’t for the sole purpose of advancing the ghostf*cking plot, flashbacks to frank and his mom and frank and ray and frank and dewees. other friends hanging out, getting to know mikey. (i need to do a reread, but ray and bob and co. weren’t really that memorable...)

higher stakes. the kidnapping scene fell flat because you knew nothing was going to happen, mikey couldn’t die because he’s mikey, all that stuff. higher stakes for the dead character, too - i need to do a reread, but plausible risk of permadeath would help intensify things.

mikey subplot is of utmost importance. barely anybody who writes RPF seems to know what to do with him as a “character” - since his public persona is/was awkward, super quiet, but still super well-liked? and nobody really wants to figure out the why and how for a minor character, since he always ends up being a minor character - but i’d like some in-depth exploration. bringing out the parallels and differences between him and frank, the dead kid and the maybe-dying kid (assuming heightened stakes), and having them hang out more, is something i’d really like.

i’d have mikey and frank be friends, but also butt heads a lot and rub each other the wrong way - mikey’s a kid and he’s terrified of dying, doesn’t want his mom and gerard and his friends back home to go on without him, wants to explore this freaky town that feels like it’s breathing down his neck [it’s creepy, but he has a good feeling about it], wants to get the chance to be a kid again but also doesn’t want to die before he has the chance to grow up, and keeps having these freaky dreams about a marching band dressed in black. frank has (mostly) made his peace with being dead, thinks his family and friends have moved on without him and been pretty okay, wanted to get the fuck out and grow up but not sell out (gay punk rights), and he knows everything about this shithole and hates that it kind of feels like home. he’s a perpetual kid who knows he can’t grow up until he leaves; mikey’s too grown up already but he’s younger and moodier and both more and less at peace with life and death. they have a lot in common, but they can seriously butt heads.

i’d give mikey a heightened awareness of the supernatural, more mobility (definitely an ill-advised wander through the woods or three), and have him and frank have weird effects on each other.

i liked the sense of weird-hazy-small town that exists out of time, and not wanting to be there but also not really being able to leave (in different ways - frank’s literally trapped, the ways are just waiting and don’t know how long they’ll be stuck there, and their estimates keep changing.) deliberately developing that by having the teenage characters thinking about college and stuff or mrs. way thinking about plans for when they move away again and finding that those plans don’t feel pressing, that they might end up there forever, and maybe that might be liveable? (there’s definitely something wrong with that town, and it’s not just frank) good shit, more emotional depth, frank freaks out but they don’t know he’s a ghost at that point and don’t get it, fuck yeah

a more complicated plotline. more subplots. i think bringing in a different mystery than frank would make it more of a traditionally Literary work, and bring out unexplored dimensions in the characters and the worldbuilding. this time maybe it’d be donna? things around town are pretty strange, the police department is definitely corrupt, her kids keep vanishing in and out of the woods and not telling her the whole truth, gothic etc etc. haven’t thought that part out very much, tbh.

more character depth and development for gerard - AOAF would be the perfect time for him, a depressed kid with a sick brother and dead ghostfriend, to get really fucked up about life and death and his relationship to them, and stop feeling like an early death is some kind of romantic inevitability and realize oh god he really doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want mikey to die it’s not fair, frank being a ghost is cool on the surface but really it’s just awful, and is it really fair for him to be dreaming about his plans for after he graduates when frank is trapped here forever, and mikey might be too? (could bring this in in the kidnapping bit, idk. and some late-night chats with donna.)

more explanation of Why Frank Is The Way He Is. more flashbacks, more backstory, more insight into how he has seriously mixed feelings about his undeath and is trying to be okay with being trapped in the woods forever but really fucking isn’t but also feels like him and the water washing over his bones run at the same frequency - it’s part of him, but he wants more. more detail about that part.

ray and frank interactions. frank looking in on ray’s family, years later.

frank exploring more of the town than the woods - he has to have stood at the edge of the woods and stared as far as he could, he must have been curious, he must have wanted to know what was going on. he gets out of the woods, runs around town, is proud of it for changing and getting kinda-sorta-better? in parts? but hates it for moving on without him. 

better ghost mechanics - i really disliked how it felt so easy and handwaved. blegh. the tree-phone was cute tho...  (frank would gain mobility in degrees, not all at once, i think. and there would be side effects. more thought needed.)

the epilogue/sequel/whatever was cute, i wouldn’t change that except to make gerard’s eventual successful career a bit more ambiguous - and maybe mikey would die instead of your suggestion of gerard dying, i think that could work maybe. might be between the main plot and the epilogue, though.

showing more of frank’s unlife, and more of the other ghosts - absolute must. mikey spends a weekend at home, sneaks out, sees a dog in the woods that isn’t there, dreams about guitar lessons. 

i swear there was other stuff that i talked about with you but i don’t remember... i didn’t mean to make this a whole Manifesto but i’m trying to get everything in in detail sfdklkfsdl rip

slower development of the romance plot, slower realization that frank is a ghost (but less over-the-top oblivious gerard), more developed main and side characters, more side characters (this story was a dudefest! where are the girls.), making the ending feel less contrived (all of their friends are suddenly there, and everything is okay? it needed a more drawn-out conclusion)

this wasn’t supposed to be this long, or take this much time >.

[dykejet]

☕️ kyoshi novels

I love them sm..,., literally read the first 1 in two days and the second 1 in a single session .. I’ve wanted 2 reread em 4 months but I don’t have the time💔I think ab kyoshi rangi kirima nyahitha & kuruk too long I go bonkers

send me ☕️ + [topic] and i’ll tell you my opinion on it!

#as u can I’m not a very good literary critic #*can see #answer #all-the-avatars-are-fuckin-queer