#We don't read books like you do in language arts class or whatever

[labialockercolourised]

I must speak my truth. I get the "Phil has an English degree lol" jokes, I really do...but every time I see them it has the same impact as "you're a linguist, how many languages do you speak?" And as someone who primarily works in phonetics, y'all, it made my spelling worse

[chameleonspell]

HTDC commentary - 17: VCDRKAA & 18: language & 19: knowledge & 20: again

[Looking back at HTDC after nearly ten years: comments on lore, character notes, influences, art, whatever. May contain spoilers for later chapters.]

chapter text: 17: VCDRKAA & 18: language & 19: knowledge & 20: again

I hope no one was expecting a line-by line complex exegesis of chapter 17, because I generated a wall of TEXTSLOP. It was never intended to mean anything specific, although I did edit it selectively, for poetry and interest. I didn't really expect anyone to read it, I just wanted them to open the chapter and go "what the fuck is this shit??"

I think I used this page to generate it, which must be twenty years old, at the absolute minimum, and the code is from the 1990s. It's beyond irritating that Markov chain text generators, along with other venerable methods of cut-up and creative mixology, are probably now tarred with the same brush as bullshit like chatGPT. Anyway, you could call it a Small Language Model, in that it only uses the text you put into it, doesn't steal it to do plagiarism, and doesn't require the energy and water usage of a small country to run.

I... had totally forgotten which texts I put into it, and had to spend way too long cross-checking fragments. All I remembered was that the nonsense-title of the chapter was taken from the title-letters of the input books, and it was supposed to be things Iriel had recently encountered, to represent a chaotic vomiting of his subconscious.

I think it's this:

V = 36 Lessons of Vivec

C = Chimarvamidium

D = The Book of Dawn and Dusk

R = A Less Rude Song

K = The Ruins of Kemel-Ze

A = Song of the Alchemists

A = Words of Clan Mother Ahnissi

...but I'm pretty sure there's also Special Flora of Tamriel there, in an uncredited role. I don't think that, or Song of the Alchemists is mentioned as something Iriel reads in-fic, but since Ire's an alchemist, I shovelled them into the word-hopper, too. I suspect I never noticed at the time that Song of the Alchemists is not an alchemical textbook, but silly Marobar Sul doggerel, and not exactly something Iriel would read.

Anyway, please do go ahead and cancel me for "writing fic with AI".

Playlist pick: Of Montreal - Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse. For when you really, really need the drugs to work. Or something to work. Anything. It's all just chemicals, right? C'MON, CHEMICALS!

Once we're done with the psychedelic breakdown, we have a temptation scene, specifically, Iriel wakes up in a wizard's bed, and barely resists intellectual seduction by House Telvanni.

The mage laid the book across the bed and opened it, revealing page after page of writing in Dwemer script.

Neither of them can read it yet, but the book is Divine Metaphysics, one of the three books you need to solve Trebonius' Dwemer mystery quest.

He sighed, and turned another page, revealing a complicated diagram of… Iriel wasn’t sure, but he was interested enough to sit up fully, and examine it. “Chimarvamidium,” he said, eventually.

Iriel is reacting to the diagram in the book of an anthropoid Dwemer construct, a theme that also occurs in Chimarvamidium. The picture under his nose is almost certainly Numidium, something he should be at least theoretically aware of. Tiber Septim used it to conquer Summerset in the Second Era, within living memory of older Altmer, and if Ire wasn't concentrating in history class, he was fourteen years old at the time of The Warp in The West. Admittedly, the giant robot was stomping about in Daggerfall, by then (so no trying to claim it had any weird effects on Ire's developing psyche!), and perhaps even a Dragon Break was barely a blip on his radar, compared to the horrors of being a teenager in Lillandril. Either way, Ire misses the obvious fact about the picture, and makes a more remote connection, something Baladas takes as evidence of a subtler, more esoteric intellectual approach, when it's actually far more to do with:

“I’m sorry. I think I’m still sssomewhat under the effects of an Imperial fuckton of skooma.

Iriel was previously only ever doing moon sugar. Skooma is much, much stronger, more addictive, and, for a magic-sensitive Altmer, extremely psychoactive and hallucination-inducing. He also drank two bottles, straight. Skooma is a liquid, and can be drunk, but is more commonly smoked (inhaled as a vapour?) through a pipe. I am assuming that smoking is the preferred method because the effects are slow and gentle, whereas drinking it is extremely neither of those things.

Yes, fine, the line about skooma being like "eight hundred orgasms tied to a brick" is an echo of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy description of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster cocktail as being "like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick". NO that is NOT a pop culture reference, that's just me stealing shit, which is totally different okay?

“Was that a Daedroth back there?”

Baladas keep a pet Daedroth. Wait... is it a pet? Are they sentient? Some of them are named, and have relationships to other characters that could imply they were intelligent. But... hmm. Dangerous tangent. Let's assume it's just a pet, yeah?

“It’s adorable! What’s its name?” Ire poked it, giggling in delight as it contracted its metal limbs back into its shell.

Again. Please let the record show that the first time Iriel interacted closely with a non-hostile Dwemer automaton, he was overcome with nothing more lascivious or sinister than childlike glee and wonder. You filthy animals.

Poor little centurion, does your daddy not even care enough to–”

He did indirectly call a Telvanni wizard "daddy", though. I can't really defend him from that one, since I'm pretty sure he knew exactly what he was doing*. And so did Baladas, because he shut that bullshit down FAST.

(* exactly what he was doing = being very silly and no-filter. Iriel is not actually looking to get "mentored" by a much older wizard, even if he could find one more interested in doing it.)

“The miners report that a screaming, semi-transparent Altmer, covered in weeds and soaking wet, broke into the eggmine from the lower levels.

This whole bit is confusing, and I don't like it. It's not funny, and it really doesn't matter about the stupid route Iriel took to end up with the book on Baladas' doorstep. But yes, you can get into the Gnisis eggmine via the riverbed outside town, and from there, into the Dwemer ruin and back. If he knew, Iriel would feel smug about the fact Edwinna would have tried to make him go there, on purpose, later, if she hadn't expelled him by then.

“Auri-El, what did you do to them?” Ire had heard about Telvanni methods.

While he hasn't encountered many Telvanni in Morrowind, he would have read things like this, in which Telvanni mages are notorious for being fans of inventive magical torture.

Iriel knew the score. Baladas Demnevanni was a serious Dwemer scholar, [...] He could make far better use of it than Ire ever would. And yet, something in Iriel resisted.

Iriel does know the score, and part of the score that he knows is: while Baladas is much older and more powerful, he's not technically Iriel's senior. Because Ire's not in House Telvanni, or any other structure that makes him Demnevanni's subordinate. Which Ire leaves free to resist. Sure, Baladas could take the book by magical force, but Iriel has enough pride to want to force him to do that, to not capitulate based purely on academic bluster. (Yes, of course Iriel can have a powerful and resilient scholarly ego, while simultaneously having zero self esteem. You've met academics, right?)

“It’s mine,” he said. “I found it. And I never asked you to take care of me.”

Saying this feels good. It's true: he didn't ask to be taken care of. And Baladas' reasons for doing so are cleanly self-interested, and make perfect sense to Ire. There's no messy pity involved, no need to spare the feelings of someone who thought they were being a good person, when you're too bitter and damaged to be grateful. This whole conversation is, in many ways, Iriel's ideal type of social interaction.

I will give you information about the location of Dwemer ruins on Vvardenfell, and in return, you will bring me any more books that you find there.”

The location of known Dwemer ruins on Vvardenfell is not, at this point in time, especially secret information, so Baladas is rather getting the better end of this deal. But if he wasn't, he wouldn't be making it, would he?

The only people qualified are my fellow mages, but Telvanni do not co-operate. Anything they found, they would keep for themselves.

His reasoning checks out, though, so Iriel is inclined to trust him. I really did think Ire would take him the other books at some point, and Ire himself intended to at various points, but... in the end, things got complicated. Iriel comes back to Gnisis, but not to Arvs Drelen, and he keeps all his findings to himself.

“Sweet Mara, no. I just want to be left alone to read.”

“You have just spoken the unofficial motto of House Telvanni.

The problem, I suppose, is that Ire is entirely too Telvanni at heart. It was always touch-and-go, as to whether he'd find an excuse to join the House. After all, he's perfect for it... but that's exactly why he resisted.

Iriel knows he's an obsessive, isolationist weirdo, who's probably going to end up alone in a tower, reading esoterically taboo books all day. Surrounded by robots and summoned Daedra, because that's the only level of social contact he's capable of tolerating. He knows all that, he knows exactly the sort of person he is. He just doesn't like that person. And when Telvanni start tempting him to fully embrace weird hermit mage life, he's forcefully reminded of what Telvanni are known for, and how isolating yourself with only Daedra for company makes you lose all contact with pedestrian concepts like "morality", and "not torturing people to death with lightning spells".

Clearly, Ire's being ridiculous to think his own morality is so fragile, but after the day he's had, he's feeling fragile in all sorts of ways, and unwilling to trust his own limits.

each mage seeks only solitude and freedom to continue his or her work.” [...] “Knowledge may be power,” he was declaiming, “but for some of us, it is enough that knowledge is knowledge.

And Ire's right to question the actual content of Baladas' rhetorical  flourishes: freedom to do what? Power to do what? Knowledge of what? Doesn't it matter? The Telvanni answer certainly seems to be "no". But Ire's experiences with education have left him questioning the value of the "knowledge" he obtained. Certainly, if he was supposed to convert it into power, he appears to have missed a crucial step in the process. He's not sure he wants Telvanni instruction, for taking that step.

He stood up, and began to concentrate a sphere of magicka between his hands. “Where should I send you?”

I have a question about teleportation. What are the rules? Guild guides only transport people to other guild halls, but is that restriction due to rules, or ability? UESP says that guides "maintain magical contact with their counterparts in other branches", but I can't find an ingame source for this. If true, that would explain the restriction, but I'm not sure I buy it. It's possible for a guild guide to send you into a guildhall where the "receiving" guild guide is no longer there, for example during this quest. And the mage who sends you to Mournhold in the Tribunal expansion isn't a guild guide, but sends you as a favour, since she's a "powerful mage".

So: my theory is that it's totally possible for a skilled mage to teleport people to other locations without another linked mage "catching" them, but the right location helps. Receiving chambers are magically set up in guildhalls to act as teleportation beacons, and that's the focus, rather than the other guide. This fits with how Divine and Almsivi Intervention work, not to mention Mark and Recall. Guild guides are trained to be specially attuned to these beacons, but any sufficiently powerful Mysticism expert can sling people into them, as Baladas does, here. Really powerful ones might not even need beacons, though I imagine there are exponential risks to the subject, as the location gets more distant and/or unfamiliar.

So, because it's theoretically possible, if difficult, I also think there are strict rules about where guild guides can send people, just like you can't ask the bus driver to take you anywhere you want, even if he technically could. Because teleportation would have to be a highly regulated skill! You can't just send people anywhere, that could cause all sorts of trouble.

As an aside, every guild guide in Morrowind is a beautiful woman. There's something a bit retro air stewardess about that, isn't there? Male game devs thinking women should be in travel service roles, or something? Hmm.

“Um… Ald'ruhn, please. The Mages’ Guild, for preference, but as long as you don’t teleport me inside a wall, I’ll be happy.”

Iriel's not keen to launch into his Queer Coded Villain arc, yet. So despite Baladas' blandishments, it's back to the loving arms of the Mages' Guild, for now.

“I want you to know,” Edwinna was saying, “that this is not about the Dwemer tube.

...Ah. Never mind.

“Whilst you were gone, some disturbing information came to light. When I agreed to mentor you, I was unaware of the crimes for which you were convicted in Cyrodiil. I’m sure you understand why the theft of magical artifacts is not something I can simply ignore.”

I realised something really funny just now, which is that if Edwinna has been digging into Iriel's background check, presumably through a contact at the Arcane University, then she must know Iriel is also supposed to have straight-up murdered one of his professors. But that's not what's bothering her at all!

“In addition, there is the matter of your drug abuse.

I can only assume that when Iriel took a little too long returning with the Dwemer tube, she couldn't resist the temptation to go through his bedroom. In her ensuing freak-out at finding DRUGS, it emerged that no one had ever actually looked into the squirrelly-looking Altmer's claim on application that he'd studied at the Arcane University.

Ire stopped recasting the Paralyze spell on himself

I was determined to try and find creative ways to use Illusion spells, and to some extent, that was the motive for this whole scene.

He had fully expected to burst into tears as soon as he was alone, possibly sooner, but instead, he found himself gripped by a cold fury.

So, I had planned to get Iriel expelled for a while, and originally I, like Iriel himself,  assumed that he would be devastated, because the number of times he's got himself kicked out of magical institutions is ridiculous at this point. But coming right off the conversation with Baladas, that wasn't where his head was at, at all. He was furious, and when a character gives you the gift of an unexpected emotional reaction, you always gotta lean into it, because it's one of my favourite things about writing. Iriel's vitriolic contempt for the Mages' Guild (and Edwinna Elbert in particular) gave him the motivation to do all sorts of fun things later, and really channel that "I'll show those fools at the institute!" energy. Even if he never did join House Telvanni.

At the last minute, he stopped, turned back, and retrieved Vivec’s Sermon 14 from under the bed.

On the one hand, yes, I am making fun of Iriel for considering porn* an essential, but also... not entirely? At the risk of getting too brutally real about mental illness, masturbation can be a key hammer in the mental toolbox, albeit one that tends not to get included on cute little listicles of harm-reduction coping techniques like taking bubble baths or snapping an elastic on your wrist. For people who spend their lives trying to manipulate their brains into staying above the line marked "basic functionality", orgasm can occasionally seem like the brief boost of feel-good chemicals that might kick it over that line. It is, at any rate, cheaper and safer than many alternatives, and while it's not nearly as effective as skooma, at least you don't have to fight smugglers in a cave for it. Or worse, interact with Tsiya.

*Iriel's current opinion of said text. We can make fun of him for this one.

“I’m sorry, Iriel.” Erranil shook her head, primly. “I’m no longer authorised to transport you.

It is the stupidest fucking thing that you don't have to be a member of the Mages Guild to use guild guide transportation, but if you've been expelled from the guild, they put you on a permanent no-fly list! This was often extremely annoying, ingame.

That said, it was funny to be playing the opposite of a "proper" Morrowind character, who ends up head of all the factions, including being Pope of two different religions at once. Iriel, by contrast, got expelled while still Apprentice rank in the Mages, never got past the early ranks in Thieves, and while he got one or two Imperial Cult ranks, he stopped once it wasn't going to get him laid any more.

But yes, I did get Iriel ingame-mechanically-expelled from the Mages' Guild on purpose (possibly by stealing a spoon?). For immersion. Method gamer, y'know.

next: 21: refinement & 22: fragile previous: 13: legs & 14: plan & 15: claws & 16: door

[soracities]

i dont know if it is just me but i feel like art is dying. there’s like a lack of space for the artists to explore. a lot of limitation surrounding making art right now.

* I dont if i were able to articulate my thoughts well 😅 (english is not my first language)

oh no your english is fine, lovely, don't worry 💕

it's interesting to me because i think "art is dying" is a statement that is as old as art itself; it has existed in one form or another in every century--people have said this for as long as humans have been making art and for as long the art being made has differed from the art that came a few years before it, and also for as long as the societies it is being made in have changed. i don't necessarily believe that art is dying, because to me art isn't something that can die—it simply cannot be measured in that way; it's a fundamental part of being human and it is always going to be made, no matter what the external circumstances look like.

sometimes, when we talk about creativity and its current state in whatever society we're in, we tend to lose sight of the bigger picture because we measure so much by works and artists that are already "established" (often without examining what factors allowed them to be established): Art™, as we perceive it in its finest and therefore "purest" state, is what ends up in galleries, or the books that top the bestsellers or the "must read" lists, or the songs that become "anthems of the summer" or endure for decades. but for me those divisions aren't set in stone; i don't draw a distinction between the working father who gave up music and the established musician who didn't; one may only sing and play for his kids now and then and the other may get to sing and play for hundreds or thousands regularly, but the intent behind their craft is the same, the moment they create is the same: you are making something and it is reaching someone and it is, in that moment, binding you together and allowing a moment of joy (or relief or community, the possibilities are many). that is art to me: a moment where the world inside you finally becomes bigger than yourself.

that said, i do think there are growing threats to how art is made and to who gets to make it and how that art then finds its way into the world--creativity requires freedom, not just financial, but also psychological and emotional and you cannot make art when you are run off your feet with a zero hours contract, or living paycheck to paycheck, or grappling with mental health issues, or your mind is crowded with endless to-do lists that leave very little room for you to even just get back to yourself, let alone art-making. i can only speak for what i see in most anglophone western countries and in that regard i agree with you in that there is a lack of space for artists to explore, because that space is only available to those who can afford it: those who do not worry about finances because they have an established safety net, those whose time is not tied up in work commutes or full-time or part-time caregiving etc., those who have access to the resources / people / know-how necessary to succeed commercially in their chosen field, and so on.

art--and the freedom to make art, of any kind--are a necessity for our wellbeing but it is, right now, being made into a commodity that only a few people can have access to: this is not to say that someone lucky enough to be well-off cannot write a beautiful story or paint a beautiful picture or articulate a startling philosophy, but that when the only people who are able to put their art out into the world are all from the same world, or from off-shots of, or sharing in, an already similar experience (middle or upper class, for example), it narrows the potential landscapes that the art surrounding us can contain and the experiences it is informed by (i think it also sends a deeply disturbing message; art is the single most human activity, the single most enduring heritage we have as a species, regardless of race or gender--it has persisted for millenia and established the very notion of our humanity and all the facets of whatever a soul might be; so for it then to be cordoned off like this with the implication that something so primal and species defining belongs only to a chosen few, is deeply insidious). art can be a door or art can be a mirror, but what kind of a world will it be when those lead you, always, to the same place?

i'm deeply against the idea of art as something to put on a pedestal, so when i say that i don't believe art can die, i don't mean that i believe art is something too deep or eternal or transcendent to be affected by the world around it; i just mean that human nature is, quite frankly, stubborn (i don't even mean this in a conscious way, i think it's something that is just blindly instinctive): we will always find a way to make something and this something happens across a spectrum of circumstances--it happens in spite of censorship & totalitarianism, in spite of poverty and in spite of shackles, in spite of the dead-end job with the boss you hate and in spite of boredom in the classroom. in spite of and through all these things people have made art and they have couched it in metaphor, or dressed it up with humour or veiled it in irony, and some have been blatant in their refusal and others have been more circumspect and, yes, some of it has been public and enduring, but a lot of it has been private: lullabies passed down, origami roses made of napkins, a busker at a street corner you share 5 minutes of your life with as you listen to them and then never come across that musician again, a scarf knitted for a friend, a hole in a shirtsleeve stitched over in a heart shape and etc etc etc. some has been big, and some has been small, and some has been made, not for the sake of any kind of endurance or legacy, but simply because: because i am an i and i am in this world and it is what it is (grief-stricken, astonishing, painful, lonely, incomprehensible) and i lend my existence whatever shape i can, even if it's just drawing aimless patterns in the sand on the beach. when i say i don't believe art can die i just mean that, no matter what is happening in the world, someone, somewhere, will crack a dick or a sex joke or craft the most godawful pun known to man and it will still be hilarious.

this is longer than i intended but to sum up i think for me, more than anything, it's the structures around art, the mechanisms through which it engages, actively and widely, with its society as a whole, that are being limited or threatened (or are changing in order to do the limiting and the threatening). and even then, when you get down to it. i think that itself is about something more; i think the only real threat to Art, as it stands, is an existential threat which, ultimately, is not so much about art as a whole but the broader ramifications of what it means to be human, to be a collection of humans, bound together and interacting with the world we are currently living in, with the trajectory it currently has. i think the real focus of whether or not art is dying should be there, because it's not so much about art as an isolated activity: it's about us. x

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Less-Abstract Art

On this trip I've seen a lot of words on the walls and distorted baby faces in all the fine art paintings my son walks past or stands in front of in about a dozen museums. The words on the walls are painted on city street overpasses too. It's not anyone's job to remove graffiti here that I can tell, and I'm glad they leave it. I like reading the writing on the walls, whatever walls it's on.

In Scotland I saw a couple at the bus stop 7 floors below our hotel room window holding each other close. He touched her face. They kissed. I've written scenes like that a hundred times. I smiled at them but they couldn't see me up above. 'Just like a movie,' I thought. 'I'd write a scene just like that.'

I've seen couples holding hands everywhere we go and I find myself envying them with a similar intensity as I did when I was a lonely asexual teenage romantic who wondered why no one wanted to hold my hand through an art museum or riding a bus or waiting in line to buy tickets for something. (Knowledge I wish I had then: it was because I didn't want to fuck them-in order to get hand holding you have to give penetrative sex, or at least the future prospect of it, at least a blow job or something-something-SOMETHING Jennifer. Christ you think holding hands is free?) Now I'm married to a man I fuck and give blow jobs to very regularly but I still don't get the hand holding or the bus stop snuggling sweetness when we travel. He's too occupied leading--Hit the tube station at this time to make the tour slot I booked; I'll walk in front because I'm tall and you can see me and no one will get lost.

There are 3 of us, which means one of us is always alone when seats are paired off. It's usually me. I usually make sure it's me. Just like I eat the heels of the bread; I use the pieces of everything no one else wants. He doesn't feel well, and we didn't pack 250 ibuprofen to not look like criminals in international airports, but that means I'm not taking any for my own aching back and legs so he can take the ones we have for his pain. 'We can always buy more,' he says, and without making any sort of uncomfortable sighs or faces or body language, bought himself and our son kind of pricey souvenirs, but I still feel guilty asking for an 8 pack of over the counter nsaids.

I'm taking care to not do anything that will make me seem like an Ugly American. I don't want to embarrass them. I don't want to need or want anything. I don't want to need the affection or want to go back out now for a sweet after dinner. I don't need the sweet. I shouldn't want it. I shouldn't want to buy different soap when there is some included at the hotel. I shouldn't be a baby and wish I had some Coke in this land of tea and coffee I don't like. I'm trying to stay quiet and small. Take up less space, eat less, want less, kind of be less. Less.

We went to see modern art today. My son's favorite to view. Most of it is abstract-minimalist. I like it too. I like Mark Rothko a lot. I like how he can make some seemingly simple painted squares of color make you feel something big and maybe scary when you look at them (there weren't any Rothkos here today). 'I could make that,' he says sometimes when we stand behind our son admiring the abstract in some world class museum over the past 3 years. 'But you didn't,' I said today, when he said it again.

I feel like abstract art.

I wish I was as simple as I look.

I wish I truly wanted and needed less, was happy with less, like people seem to assume from me. I wish I didn't have to argue that just because I look like less effort doesn't mean I am.

[transmutationisms]

last ask i meant key points instead of bulletpoints lolol :/ english isnt really my first language, sorry !!! and yeah, specifically those lens. sorry if it wasn't clarifying at first

nothing to be sorry for! but yes i have thought about succession in relation to fisher's capitalist realism a lot lol.

first of all, there's fisher's point about how "all that is real melts into pr"—ie, capitalism reduces the real into appearance. waystar is kind of the exemplar of this trend insofar as it's a media company, and we see logan make this type of argument a few times: it doesn't matter what's real, it matters how things look, and he can control appearances (like when he plants tabloid stories or alters public opinion on the president).

there's also the way fisher talks about neoliberal subjectivity, which i see as applying particularly to kendall (ideologically flexible in the way that capitalism is, and driven by the logic of constant pointless self-improvement ie auto-exploitation). i've sketched out an attempt to theorise kendall's drug use in particular using deleuze's remarks on control societies and fisher's discussion of the 'debtor-addict' as the figure of such societies.

although fisher makes gestures toward uncovering a more general subjectivity under capitalism, i do think a lot of 'capitalist realism' is very specifically engaging with the british middle class, and you can see this for example in the section on 'depressive anhedonia' lol. which is not necessarily a bad thing; the book clearly has certain roots in affect theory / psychology, and it's possible for it to be saying something useful and interesting about middle-class affect without necessarily being a totalising manifesto. i would argue that marx's paris manuscripts often move into similar territory in regards to an imagined (and largely imaginary) proletarian.

but that brings me to i think the central issue with both succession and 'capitalist realism,' which is, uh, the capitalist realism of it all lol. like, the main thrust of fisher's critique here is to point out the ways in which capitalist political-economy is presented as the only viable such system. and obviously, fisher disagreed, and the book is like 80 pages long and is more about explaining what capitalist realism is than refuting it, which is fine. but it bears saying that there is a certain strain of leftist (sometimes not even leftist) thought that leans heavily into the nihilism and cynicism that some people pick up from this text.

which is not really something i want to litigate in regards to fisher in this post lol, but i do feel like it's something worth chewing on in regards to succession. in a show that is driven by character studies of murdoch pastiches, what would a leftist or liberatory ending look like? these characters and their real-world analogues are trapped in their capitalist microcosms, which are located within larger capitalist structures; if there's no escape for them, is the show inherently endorsing the idea that capitalism is inescapable and omnipotent in general?

i will show my hand here and say i think an ending where the roys 'escaped' in any way would suck, honestly. this is not because i think they 'deserve' to suffer or be punished (i don't do that kind of carceral logic) but because i think it would feel saccharine and insipid to end on a note of, like, individual liberation for this one family whilst capitalism marches on or whatever. but this doesn't necessarily mean that any ending where they're trapped is good, or compatible with liberatory leftist politics, or narratively satisfying.

ultimately i also think this gets at some other issues fisher was interested in throughout his work: like, when art is made under capitalism, that limits both the meanings intended by the creators and the meanings audiences read from it. ie, what type of genuinely liberatory art is possible if it's doubling as a commodity? i don't ask that to let succession's writers off the hook lol, and if the ending is bad and unimaginative then it's bad and unimaginative. like, i'm not going to sit here pretending otherwise. but i do also wonder what ending is possible that would not be read as somewhat cynical regarding the possibility of escape from capitalism.

anyway i don't have a developed aesthetic theory here and i also don't yet have the succession ending, so like.... i reserve judgment until then lol.

[magpiemirroring]

I do not find solving math problems particularly enjoyable and never have. I have never really experienced that joy and sense of pleasure from contemplating a nice/clever/beautiful equation or the satisfaction of solving a an interesting math problem. I envy those of you who get to have those experiences! Sometime in middle school I lost whatever connection to math I had and I nearly flunked algebra in 8th grade which kinda did a number on my relationship with math. Luckily, I did not have my heart set on a career in a math-focused subject and went off to study art instead! But I've been trying to stop saying I Hate Math, so here's some experiences with math that were positive for me a Non-Math Person:

10th Grade Math Class (Geometry? I think?) where the teacher always set aside time at the end of class for us to start on our homework. We were encouraged not only to ask him questions, but to talk to each other. This was great. Teamed up with a couple of other weird kids in class and took turns asking each other about stuff we got stuck on and trying to explain the ones we felt like we got right. I got solid Bs that year! Explaining things and working with peers gave me back a lot of math confidence and I started to connect to math again! (This was utterly torpedoed next year, lolsob!)

Physics. Ironically, despite being Bad At Math, I really liked Physics class. It was very very basic physics, but I think having concrete ideas that made sense helped a lot. Math felt like it had substance and weight that I could hold onto with my mind and that was very exciting!

Honestly, there's a lot of math concepts I find fascinating. I used to to zone out in math class staring at posters about the fibonacci sequence or fractals or get distracted pondering prime numbers. So I've read a fair number of "math concepts for people that don't like math" books that talked about trying to conceptualize infinities or the 4th dimension, or different counting base systems, or weird topology hijinks. It was interesting to see how those ideas were expressed in mathematical notation even if I couldn't do enough math to do anything with these things. I stayed up way too late one night when I was in art school happily trying to visualize some of things I was reading about. I'm suffering from burnout right now and reading is hard much less reading things that challenge my brain like that, but I do look forward to shoving my brain at concepts again someday and rotating them in my head like the weirdest blorbo.

I'm a digital artist. I haven't had to do algebra in awhile. But math underlies the tools I use and can inspire interesting work so I I am trying to find reasons to appreciate it. Geometry and other mathematical ideas can be used to codify ideas of balance and shape and form in a composition. Math can be used to describe the rules of perspective. Math is a language that can be translated into the language of color and motion that I speak, so that like a translated poem, I can understand the ideas, even if they're not quite the same in translation.

I didn't wanna derail the other post but I still wanna spread some love for my favourite subject...

Reblog if you've ever felt genuine joy or excitement from doing and/or thinking about math

[sehodreamsthoughts]

yess i looked up his age before i started going tooo crazy but plsss 96…. 😩😩😩

also!! i missed this earlier but did u still wanna do that ask game? if so, i wanted to ask bamboo, sage, ivy, and aloe vera 🫶🏻🫶🏻

- 🥟 anon

YES, EVEN HIS AGE IS PERFECT, PLEASE SM I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THIS MAN OUT THERE AND WRITE 40 FICS ABOUT HIM 😭🩷

Hi babyyyy, here are my answers 🐥

bamboo ⇢ do you change into a different outfit when you get home?

I'll be honest here, and some may think I'm a bit insane, but not really, it depends. If I arrive from the gym (if I go at night) I take a shower and change, if I arrive and have nothing to do (pretty rare, and usually it's when I arrive at 11pm or later and I'm too exhausted to do something else) I change to my pajamas, BUT if I arrive early from work and continue doing stuff in my house (for example, i have three classes a week in the evening/night and I get there exactly to just turn on my laptop and pay attention, or sometimes I continue doing work I have for the next day) I just keep wearing my clothes until I can't continue anymore and change into my pajamas if I can, but there are a few times (MANY TIMES) in which I just take off my bra and go to sleep with what I'm wearing (please don't think I'm crazy, I just really don't mind at all sleeping in jeans if I'm too exhausted 😭. My friends cancelled me for this -wearing jeans to bed- because in this last trip we had to leave at 4 am one day and I directly went to sleep with the clothes I'd wear the next day, IDK why I'm like this 💀)

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

I guess it could be said music and fiction since it's what I mostly consume, I don't really go to many museums since I don't think I have a real connection with paintings/statues/photographies (I do still enjoy going to the movies and theatre if it counts). HOWEVER, if I use the word touching, I'd say those first two. I've loved reading since I was pretty young and I've always done it with music, it's like, I need those two to be connected almost all the time. I think this is, and I don't know how this will sound, because I feel like books are different lives, and they're lives you can temporarily live, not matter your sex or appearance, when you read, you can imagine things, and if you want to (what I usually do), you can become part of the story too! It's like, you can feel things through the sentences, and it doesn't matter if the character is a man or a kid or a grandma, you can still become them if you want to. I don't know, I think I could talk a lot more about it but I would be just saying whatever comes to my mind, like I guess it could be said that I function with music, and I live through fiction or something along those lines 😭

ivy ⇢ what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired?

Oh, this is easy, people can totally see it in my face, I'm pretty expressive, so if I feel something, most of the time my face will show it before I can do anything about it 😭. Of course I don't think it's a negative trait when it shows I'm happy, but It's still a bit problematic since when I'm working and people put obstacles to get on my nerves I try to look nonchalant, and even if I tell myself to not do it, sadly a lot say that my eyes are enough to show what I feel. Also, idk, I guess it's the way that my smile becomes fake AF too (I try to smile most of the time because when I'm not people say I scare them or I look mad when I'm not 🥺). I don't know what else could be a tell, I don't think there's anything else apart from my smile and my eyes, everyone says that I have a strong aura/energy and sometimes even from behind they can sense that something is happening when I'm upset or happy, but I don't know if that counts, it could be body language too but I don't really do anything in particular more than smile and look at people in the eyes🫠 (hahaha when people say my eyes and energy are intense I blame my parents because how could a Scorpio and a Leo have another Scorpio, insane!)

aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?

Mundane... Woah, I don't know, maybe prepare my own drinks at home? I thought about this yesterday when I was out because I still haven't tried to do it and I really like to drink matcha. I was more into normal coffee but I try to not don't drink too much these days because I have pcos and recently it was discovered that I have hypothyroidism (yeah, when I thought my results were okay, and there was just a little weird number, barely high, well when I came back from my trip and had my doctor's appointment they told me it was hypothyroidism lol) so I'm trying to drink only matcha and I'd like to learn how to make it because none of the coffee places that I frequent to sell it and I still refuse to buy Starbucks 💀

Well, that's a mundane thing I could try, but if I'm honest, I'd love to clean my own house, which means, I'd need to get my own house first, and that's not so mundane 💀

Can I ask you too? 🥺 I don't know if you can ask back in the game, but if you don't mind, I'd like to ask orchid, bamboo, sage and palm tree 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[my-my-my]

You have many? 👀👀 Uhhh can we get some more please? I’m a whore for Aizen 🥵 lol

Haha if you have prompts or themes, it'd def help organize my thoughts, but here are a few more!

Aizen's "modern" attire leans towards classic and timeless pieces. Kubo lovesss to draw his characters in modern clothing, and if Aizen is drawn, he's usually in some kind of suit, or at least nice slacks and a button down lol (although there is one of him in a hoodie THAT I MUST FIND A FULL IMAGE OF). This man would also be That Guy who owns some fancy-ass sweats (maybe cashmere, maybe Fear of God)

Some brands I can see him wear: Thom Browne, A.P.C., Bruno Cucinelli, Fear of God... wears Oliver Peoples sunglasses, Breitling watches and Berluti accessories.

I previously said that his love languages were "acts of service" and "quality time", but when it comes to special occasions, Aizen plans EVERYTHING. He will make sure it will be a birthday/anniversary/whatever day that you will remember. He's an observant man, and for you, he'll give thoughtful gifts.

It's a pretty common headcanon for him, but I do believe he would be a professor or a teacher in a modern AU setting (even Kubo mentioned it in passing when talking about an art piece that had Ichigo and other characters in school uniforms. He originally planned to include Aizen but felt that Aizen would be their teacher rather than a classmate lol). I'm not exactly sure what he would teach though!

Some days I think he would teach some introductory philosophy course, or maybe higher level metaphysics classes. I think he would be a decent thesis supervisor at the graduate level (esp if he has his Nice Guy act on).

I also have headcanon'd him as someone who works either as a psychiatrist or a neurosurgeon (both are medical doctors, but with differing mental demands).

I see him as someone who genuinely enjoys people-watching. I can see him going to a cafe, order a cup of tea or coffee, a book he's reading, and just observe people. Yes, he may find humans/mortals/shinigami "weaker" than him, but he likes to observe people - it's why he became good at reading them in the first place!

I know I wrote a fic alluding to it, but I don't think Aizen gets jealous easily, unless it has to do with Urahara and MAYBE, and a big maybe, Shinji. I personally would have loved to see more interaction with the 3 of them either during the last arc, or TBTP, but I think Aizen has absolutely 0 patience for the two of them.

I suspect that some of Hiyori's pranks on Shinji were aided with Aizen during TBTP lol.

Thanks for asking!!

[wypapichulo]

𝟕 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬.

pairing ; lee donghyuck x reader genre ; fluff, very very slight angst / high school au word count ; 5010 words warnings ; some explicit language? the use of the word 'shit' a few times? playlist ; dive into you – nct dream | walk you home – nct dream | best friend – rex orange county | anti-romantic – txt | can't take my eyes off you – frankie valli | backyard boy – claire rosinkranz author's note ; i hope the ending doesn't sound too rushed,, aah i just lost the vibe and wanted to get it done ;,, i hope it's alright🚶 dt ; @matchaeee <3

Making someone you don't know fall for you would have been easier. Making your best friend fall in love with you? A little bit more of a hassle But not unless they've been in love with you from the start.

“I can make her fall in love with me in 7 days”

Haechan had said this whilst he was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the small convenience store beside an exasperated looking Jeno. “Hyuck, I’m pretty sure you can’t.”, “No I’m confident!” He continued, sipping his carbonated drink and cutting Jeno off as he spoke, “Look– I know her inside and out, I’m sure I know just the right tricks to make her fall for me!”

Jeno sighed slightly, knowing it was no use to force Haechan to listen to him. “You shouldn’t play with feelings like this…” He started, taking a sip of his own soda, “Can’t you just tell her you like her like a normal person–“, “you’re seriously no fun.” Jeno deadpanned at the statement, hand ready to reach for the brunets to pull his fingers back, “I just wanna see if she really likes me back for real!” he said, hands fidgeting with the rim of the soda can, “I don’t know, what if she doesn’t like me and rejects me when I ask her!”

“So the only logical way to fix that is by ‘making her fall in love with you in seven days’?!” Jeno exclaimed, nearly in tears at his own friend’s stupidity. Haechan grinned, “well if she doesn’t like me yet, she’ll definitely like me by the end of this.”

“I’m going to forget about him in the next 7 days.”

Renjun looked up in surprise at the girl’s statement, never having thought of the day she’d finally say it.

“You won’t.” He stated simply, continuing to sketch the tree outside the window of her room. She whined slightly, turning her attention to the boy in her room, “and what makes you say that?”

“You said that two years ago.”, “I was younger then!”, “Sure you were.”

She groaned, falling back on her bed with a thud, “I need to try… this one-sided shit is getting to me…”

Turning to look at the heap of sadness on the bed, Renjun sighed quietly. “I definitely won’t question you if you tell me you’re still in love with him by the end of it.”

“I’m only trying right?”

DAY 1

“How you doin’ gorgeous~”

To say she was shocked was an understatement. What?

“What do you want Hyuck.” She asked with a deadpan, staring down at the blank page of her notebook. Her plan was to study but it seemed as if the man duped as her best friend had other ideas. “I don’t want anything! Can’t I say nice things about you?” He said, taking the seat across from her.

The library was quiet, save for the few students chattering mutedly by the computers. The whole day Haechan had been fine– normal, so to speak… He sat next to her as usual during lunch–as they barely shared any classes this school year–and joked around for a bit, he stole the milk that she had painstakingly waited behind a line of first years to buy, giving her a presumably empty promise that he’d buy her another one… but then he came in the library and said that?

“You’ve never called me that before,” she scoffed, “and if you have, I’d remember.”

Of course she would. Somehow every compliment he had given her always stuck in her mind, even the few ingenuine ones that came out as jokes. The time he called her quick witted when she replied to one of his jokes, the time he said she was pretty good at math’s when she had explained to him how to find an axis… And of course there was the time he had exclaimed how she was prettier than the girl she had been talking shit about… not one of her best feats but... it was something.

So to have him call her gorgeous, even if it was just as a passing nickname… it was something that made her cheeks burn when she remembered his exact wording of the sentence.

“Well that doesn’t matter does it?” he said, leaning over the table to read through the same passage as she had been going through for the last hour, trying to fit anything and everything in her head. “Are you having trouble with anything?”

“Nothing you can help me with.” She scoffed, turning a page. “Aw, come on, don’t say that!” he laughed aloud, earning him an abundance of shushes from the few students scattered around the area. “I’m sure I, with my great expertise, can help you in some way with–“ he looked down at the chapter’s name, “intercontinental… exchange… what the hell is this–“

She laughed lightly at his confusion, “It’s economics,” she smiled, making his heart race with anticipation for some unknown reason, “you won’t get it.”

“Well maybe if you taught me, I’d understand.” He chuckled softly, sitting properly once more and sighing as he stared at the soft curve of her lips. She blushed lightly, realizing the direction of his eyes and looking back down to her book.

Barely the first day and she was already smitten once more with him… she wondered if she’d ever manage to escape from the trap that was Lee Donghyuck.

DAY 2

Closing her locker up, she nearly went into cardiac arrest as she saw none other than Haechan leaning on the locker right beside hers.

“Donghyuck! You almost gave me a heart attack!” she exclaimed, heart pounding at a thousand beats per second… or not– maybe she was just exaggerating…

He smirked, an image that had always and forever will be engraved into the crevices of her mind. “I hope that’s a good thing?”

She merely rolled her eyes at him, shoving her textbook into her backpack. “no.” she stated with a deadpan, turning to walk away. “Wait uppp!” he whined, following along behind the exasperated girl. If Jeno was tired of him, then she was something else entirely. How she managed to keep up with the outgoing boy was a mystery even to herself.

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked as he caught up with her and took long steps to follow along with her short quick paces, “I was thinking maybe we could go to that new café that just opened– you know, the library one?”

She kept on walking, but her pace slowed significantly. A small tell to her interest in the subject. He smiled.

“You don’t even like reading much.” She said with a chuckle, “why’d you wanna go there?” She asked softly glancing up at him. “Well… you like reading… so–“ he shrugged slightly “–I thought you’d enjoy it…”

See this was the thing about him. Whenever she had made a commitment to stop thinking about him–leave her feelings for him in the dust–he’d always come back strong, making her feel as if he never wanted her to stop liking him. But what could she do? It seemed as if he never had the slightest interest in being anything other than friends.

She smiled softly, sighing as she opened her mouth to give out a small, “alright.” As her answer to his invitation.

“Great! It’s a date!”

The four words stopped her in her tracks between the horde of students walking to and from to get to their classes.

He only grinned, turning to face her as he walked backwards. “I’ll see you after class!”

She was frozen in place it seemed. Blinking as she watched the retreating back of the boy who had… just asked her out?

Again, confusion had begun to settle in. Was this ‘date’ meant to be a romantic date? Or just– one where they hung out as friends and had coffee?

In her confusion, she had forgotten to ask him about the exact day of which their little ‘date’ was supposed to be on… but she was sure he’d text her everything she needed to know about it, right down to the dress code.

Retracing her thoughts, maybe she was wrong… this might have been the first time he’d ever shown any interest in being anything more than friends… And to be quite honest, it may or may not have scared her…

What would she do if it turned out he really had feelings for her…? DAY 3

“I thought you said you were going to stop liking him.”

She had found Renjun in the art room as per usual, painting away at whatever his heart had decided to explore. The golden particles drifted in from the late afternoon sun as she had just finished up her own after school activity. “I want to… But he’s making it so hard!” she exclaimed, sitting on a table to the side at the back of the room.

Renjun was somehow her only sane friend, and even so, he preferred to stay out of her messy love life with the undeniably annoying Haechan. Not to mention that he couldn’t even talk to Haechan without bursting a nerve. “I don’t understand how you don’t see how annoying the boy is.” He said nonchalantly as he continued to mix and match an array of greens to the trees he had started on. “Just thinking of that should be enough to stir you away from him.”

Sighing in aggravation to her situation, she sticked out her tongue at the back of his head. “I saw that.” He stated, barely even looking up from his canvas. “’course you did…” she grumbled lowly, pouting and looking out of the window.

“That’s just the thing…” she started, her tone soft and her eyes unfocused, “he’s not… annoying…”

Renjun scoffed aloud, nearly keeling over in laughter. “Are you sure about that?” He said in between his dying giggles, turning to finally look at the girl who was now looking at him with an unamused look. “Shut up– you know what I mean!” she cried out in annoyance. He made a face, turning back to his painting and continuing to work on the piece. “Really, when you get to know him– he’s more than that!” she tilted her head back to rest on the cool wall of the classroom.

“Today he actually got me the milk I wanted…” she muttered softly, “It’s not much of course… but…”

“You said the other day that you had to wait a long time to get the milk cause of those underclassmen, so– y’know– I got it for you.”

“But it’s enough for you to stay deeply in love with him isn’t it.” Renjun sighed, knowing that she would start yelling as soon as the thought sunk in her head.

To his surprise, she didn’t. She simply sat in thought in the back of the class, watching as Renjun shrugged and continued with his painting. She mulled it over, what he said, and came to the personal conclusion that he in fact was right. It was no use in fighting the feeling. She really did care for him… a little afraid to say love– but she cared for him immensely nonetheless.

She got off the table and walked towards where Renjun sat with his canvas and patted his shoulder lightly.

“Thanks Renjunnie.”

“I told you not to call me that… makes me sound like a child...” He murmured, rolling his eyes before continuing, “what are you even thanking me for anyways? I didn’t do anything. The feelings were there the whole time.”

Her lips turned up slightly, and she hummed softly before walking towards the door.

“You did more than you think.” She said, turning to look at him once more as she opened the door. He merely looked at her in puzzlement, not understanding just how he had helped her in her quest of love. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”

“Yeah… see you…” he muttered quietly, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion, before shaking his head as the door fell shut.

“Why are all my friends so weird…”

DAY 4

The living room of her house was spacious.

Very much so that she wondered why it felt as if she couldn’t even get a distance away from the clingy boy.

Haechan had come over to help her with some of her class work she was struggling with, and truly, she couldn’t thank him enough for the help… but why did he have to sit so close to her?

He had been reading a passage out to her from the book, shoulders brushing ever so slightly against one another, causing her cheeks to flare with heat. Every single move he made seemed to make her tense up all the more.

She was never like this! Each time they had studied together, even as much as she liked him, it never caused her to blush or fidget as much as she was doing now.

Maybe it was the effect of realizing that he might like her after all… The last three days were such an improvement in that area of their relationship that it made her wonder if he actually had liked her all along and just decided to showcase it all now.

“And that’s why the tectonic pressure in this area is much larger than here.” He explained– arm stretching slightly over her to point at an image on the book. For some unknown reason, she had held her breath ever so slightly as to maybe become stone in the next few seconds. He turned to look at her– their faces not too far from one another, and it was like time had stopped right in that moment, just to make her realize how much trouble she was in by falling for this forsaken boy. She could feel her face redden to the deep color of the roses on the front porch of her house, and suddenly, all she wanted to do was melt into a puddle right there and then.

Oddly enough, he seemed to be reactionless. It was as if the proximity of their faces had absolutely no effect on his own heart, bringing up the question in her mind once more whether he actually held any feelings for her other than the simple platonic ones.

“You weren’t paying attention were you?”

Her eyebrows raised to her hairline, quite literally, at the accusing statement he had thrown upon her. “I– Hey! I was listening!”

Suddenly every single feeling of embarrassment left her body as she pushed him playfully, as a means to get away from him as well. He yelped aloud, his back hitting the couch. “You weren’t!” he called out, a smile beginning to grow on the edges of his lips, “I can tell when you’re listening and when you’re not! And here, you were clearly not!”

She laughed loudly, throwing her head back as she did so. It had been ages since she had laughed so freely, and Haechan soaked up every single moment of it. His smile softened as he watched she tips of her eyes crinkle up and turn into crescents– the sound of her laughter as melodious as his own favorite song. In the moment, he wished so dearly he could just reach over and kiss her face all over, his heard filling up with affection he wished to shower her with.

Her laughter died down and she simply turned to look at him with a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “I really haven’t laughed that much in a while…” she said softly, watching as he nodded in listening. “I can tell.”

She giggled lightly once more. “Should we go back to studying?” she asked, a teasing smile gracing her features, to which he merely scoffed and laughed at.

“Only if you’ll listen properly this time.”

Another 3 days to go. If he was able to successfully make her fall for him, he’d be able to do all he wanted and more. DAY 5

So maybe accepting a walk home from the person you’re trying to forget about isn’t the best strategy to go with… but– in defense, Haechan had been more the one to tag along home, rather than ask her if she wanted anyone to walk her.

She had gotten used to it… but with the antics of the past week and the upcoming date on the Sunday (Yes he had given her all the information the night before. Yes he sent her every available picture there was of the place. Yes he was very excited and honestly, so was she.), who wouldn’t?

As Saturday was a day where she and the rest of the ’00 liners’–as they all preferred to call themselves (though their whole school year was the ’00 line’ so honestly that nickname was rather stupid)–usually had a game night at either Jeno or Jaemin’s house, both she and Haechan had settled on going to the cute little library-esque café on the Sunday.

The whole way home, Haechan couldn’t help but stare softly as she recounted the events of the day. Again, being in different classes had its perks, as there was always something new to tell each other about.

Every step he took felt heavier. He knew they both were getting closer to her house– every time he saw a bench on the side of the street his instinct would tell him to sit down with her and just talk for longer, wanting to keep all her minutes for himself selfishly.

“So that’s why she was kicked out of the class today– I honestly can’t believe she had the nerve to pull that off!” laughing slightly, she turned to face Haechan, “I’m sure you’d do some stupid shit like that too.”

Haechan snapped out of his short daze if not to cry out words of denial, causing her to laugh even louder at his insistence that he would not blend and eat drink his homework just to get extra time on a project.

“After all, I’m not stupid– I don’t need extra project time since I’m just that smart!” He huffed, glancing to the girl beside him to see if he had gauged a reaction out of her. To his delight, she laughed once more, letting him relish in her melodic laughter. “you’re really full of yourself you know?”

This erupted another fit of laughter and denial to spurt from the two, pitter patting home for the day. “I’m not full of myself! I’m just confident!”, “same difference, Hyuck.” She said between breaths as her laughter finally died down.

He merely huffed and pouted­– turning to the side and glancing at her a few times to gain her remorse for her mean words ; it clearly didn’t work as all she did was giggle softly and shook her head.

The brush of the back of their hands made his heart pound faster. He glanced down to look and there it was, the soft hand he wanted to hold in his so much. He looked back up in a panic– noticing that they were getting closer to her house.

Unknown to him, her heart was just as heavy at the thought of having to part with him for the day. Though she knew tomorrow would be another day that would definitely be spent with him, it made her sorrowful to think of the fact that they’d have to be apart for the night. Cheesy as it may seem.

As they stood in front of the pathway up to her front door, he debated internally on whether or not he should do what he wanted to do or not, his head spinning at the thought of her maybe thinking he was an idiot for what he was about to do. She smiled up at him, a silent goodbye being exchanged between them, before turning around to walk up the pavement to her house.

“(Y/N)!”

Her feet stopped, and in turn, so did her heart. In a good way, of course, but it stopped nonetheless. She stayed silent for a moment before turning to face the brunet once more. “Yeah?” she asked quietly, a soft smile present on her features.

His mouth dried up. He had nothing to say– stupid! Why did he stop her like that then?

“I– Uh…” he faltered in his words; eyes still stuck on her face. Lips, to be specific.

She tilted her head slightly in question, wondering what was going through that enigma of a mind everyone called Haechan. “Hyuck?”

He smiled and shook his head, opting to grin at her like the idiot in love he was. “Until we meet again tomorrow~” he said in a mock posh accent which made her giggle lightly behind her hand. She merely shook her head and turned once more, walking up to her front door and opening it slowly, turning to give him one last smile before she closed the door.

There he stood like a lovestruck fool in the middle of her driveway as he watched her back turn as she finally walked into the house.

“I wish I had the courage to give you that hug…” DAY 6

Jeno’s house was the choice of the week, Haechan and Jaemin having pestered him into agreement over where they’d all be bundling into for the afternoon.

“I really don’t see why it should have to be my house!” Jeno whined as he stepped into the living room with snacks in hand, “It was already my house last week! It should be nana’s this week…” he trailed off, grumbling as he stepped over the legs of a serious Haechan and sat between the sole girl in their group and Jaemin on the floor. Jaemin laughed aloud, “you have the comfiest sofa!” he hollered out, earning him a kick from Renjun, who’s legs he was sitting in between.

“You’re not even sitting on the sofa,” Renjun retaliated for Jeno, cutting him some slack, “you’re leaning on my legs.”

“Well they sure are comfy if that’s what you’re implying.” Jaemin said, pressing at the buttons erratically as he flurried to beat Haechan at what seemed to be a simple game of mario kart. Hey, anything to beat Haechan right?

“DAMN!” Haechan yelled, causing the girl seated beside him to jump slightly in her seat. Jaemin only laughed, leaning his head up to look at an unimpressed Renjun.

“Hyuck give me the controller, I’m gonna beat Jaemin.” Renjun said with some form of courage to beat the one and only Nana. “Sure you are,” he said, standing up and handing the controller over to Renjun. “Anymore soda anyone?” he asked, stepping to the side to head over to the kitchen. “I’ll have a soda!”, “alrighty! One soda coming right up!” Haechan called out, turning right out to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna run out of sodas at the rate you’re drinking them…” Jeno murmured to her softly, a giggle erupting out of her lips, “fine then– I’ll have a cup of tea instead, ‘s that better?” she asked softly, smiling at the black-haired boy beside her. Jeno smiled back, his eyes disappearing behind his perfect crescents, “I’ll go get you some then.” He said, standing up from his seat to get her some tea.

Walking into the kitchen, he tutted lightly as he found Haechan going through his fridge. “And what if my mom was the one who had walked in?” Jeno stated with a deadpan, rolling his eyes at the idiotic grin his friend gave him. “First off– she’s not home. Second off– your mom loves me!” Haechan exclaimed, closing the fridge behind him after finding nothing of his interest. He picked up the sodas on the counter– before Jeno stopped him. “She changed her mind on the sodas, said she’d have tea instead.” He explained, moving to the cabinets to take out some tea to brew for her, to which Haechan simply hummed in understanding before cracking one of the soda cans open and sipping it.

“So…” Jeno started, turning to face him as he leaned on the counter behind him, “how’s the love quest?” He queried, wondering about his best friends own pursuit of love. “Is she ‘in love’ with you yet?”

Haechan shrugged slightly, “I sure hope she is… if not then I’m not sure what I’m gonna do tomorrow…”

“Why… What’s tomorrow?” Jeno questioned again, tilting his head in confusion. In Haechan’s mind… he looked rather like a lost puppy…

“Date.” The only word that came out of Haechan’s mouth as he stared with a smirk on his face to the boy standing opposite him.

Jeno’s eyes widened significantly, “Date? You mean you asked her out successfully?”

Haechan grinned, “Of course I did!”, he boasted smugly, “only a fool wouldn’t be able to make her fall in love! Especially with the shitty dudes she’s liked before.”

Jeno looked up in glee, “then– after that– my days of hell are over! I won’t have to listen to your lamenting again!” He whined when Jeno exclaimed that, shaking his head, “I wasn’t lamenting, you were the one who complained about my topic of conversation–“ he paused, rolling his eyes at the grinning puppy-like boy.

“Alright fine maybe I was,” he agreed begrudgingly, “But hey! I managed to make her fall in love with me AND score a date in 7 days! My lamenting wasn’t for nothing after all!”

Their shared laughter was cut short by the sound of the slamming of the front door and the cries of both Renjun and Jaemin. Haechan looked up worriedly at Jeno, who in turn gestured him to the kitchen exit.

“what’s wrong?” Haechan asked once he reached by the front door beside the other two boys. “You!” Renjun seethed, turning to glare at the brunet, “She was already trying to forget about you and now you play with her feelings like this!”

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Haechan scoffed, “I never played her like shit! I was always honest!”, “Then tell me what this stupid 7 day bet is all about!” Renjun yelled in his face, angry for his best friend who had muffled out in tears the short reason she was leaving so early.

“Bet?” he questioned, truly confused as to the entirety of the situation, “what fucking bet?”

Renjun rolled his eyes, “Don’t play stupid Donghyuck. You were talking to Jeno about some 7 day bet to get her to like you or something–”, “wait, this is all wrong!” Jeno exclaimed, “We never made a bet! Hyuck wanted to confess to her at the end of the week, and that’s why the whole week he had been making proper advances to her…”

The room stilled as the clarity of the situation which was misunderstood settled into their heads.

“I need to talk to (Y/N).” DAY 7

Checking her phone, she grumbled slightly, rereading the message that Haechan had sent to her the evening prior, or rather, spammed her endlessly.

hyuck ♡ : please come tomorrow.

hyuck ♡ : i really really have to talk to you about this :((

hyuck ♡ : please please please

hyuck ♡ : I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t come :(((

hyuck ♡ : please? At least consider it?

Sighing quietly as she scrolled through the abundance of messages of theirs from previous sleepless nights, she jumped when she heard the call of the voice she had cried herself to sleep over the night before. Oh his treacherous voice, hurting her feelings like that with the words that came out of his wretched mouth yesterday.

“(Y/N)!” he said, jogging up to her with a grin spread on his face, almost as if yesterday had been a dream and she had simply hallucinated the entire event. But she knew better than to believe him that fast.

Giving him a curt nod, she spoke up before anything could leave his mouth– “Tell me, Donghyuck, what happened yesterday?” she started, face hard with the cut still deep in her heart. His smile faltered, realizing just how much his words had hurt her feelings the day before.

“Do you take my feelings as a joke?” she asked again, looking to her feet in fear of her eyes betraying her and leaving tear stains across her cheeks, “because if you do then i–“

“No!” he cut, knowing that if he let this go on for longer it would only hurt her more, “No, I’d never!”

She was quiet, listening to the sound of his ragged breathing, almost as if the quietness would let her hear the sound of his heartbeat.

“Then what… what…”

He sighed softly, “I was… scared.”

Looking up, she was met with the troubled face of the person she once thought to be the largest of mysteries. “I didn’t want to be faced with rejection, I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you, as a friend or as…” he cleared his throat slightly, turning to the side, “as something more.”

The tension was thick, the street around them continuing on its route of life whilst they both stood in their own quiet bubble. Her eyes softened at his statement, the pieces of the puzzle which was Haechan starting to become clearer by every word.

“And you thought the most logical way to go, was to ‘make me fall in love with you in seven days’? come on Hyuck we’re not in some stupid romance movie–“, Haechan’s whine cut her voice short, “You sound just like Jeno now!” he cried, making her laugh softly, before stepping forward to take his hand in hers.

He looked down at their intertwined hands and looked right back up at her questioningly. “what…”

“If you liked me, you really should have just said so…” she muttered softly, shaking her head with a slight giggle, “If you did, it definitely would have saved us 7 days.”

He grinned widely, “so this… makes us boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?” he asked, grin turning into a teasing smirk on his face, making the girl before him scoff and laugh.

“We’ll see in 7 days.”

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

So like. Functionally. The concept of Media Literacy is the ability to, with some level of proficiency, comprehend and interpret a text; not just as in being able to read the words and process the structure of the sentences, but to derive an underlying ethos from that text. It's the difference between 'I like Ritz and other salty snacks' and 'Lotta nuance to a Ritz cracker if you really pay attention'.

I think at the core of people saying media literacy is dead is the attitude amongst a slowly growing (or at least slowly growing louder) contingent of people attempting media analysis who try and Come To The Correct Conclusion and the way that attitude clashes against Most Other Things. The people saying they know the one thing this art is Actually saying and Actually about say people are either foolishly blind to or willfully ignoring The Important Parts, so they say media literacy is dying. The complex soup of people who think those people are being ridiculous for one reason or another say those guys aren't actually engaging with the text on its own terms, or under the lens it is meant to be seen, or with the proper amount of grace and good faith, or any other way to criticize someone's approach to media analysis. So they also say media literacy is dying.

This further clashes against casual enjoyers who only consciously know their own personal tastes and intuitively vibe check pieces of media based on what those tastes are. Either you own being a casual enjoyer of a thing and chafe at all the people talking over your head about What's Actually Going On And What It's Actually About/Saying/Implying/Endorsing/Whatever, or you feel the need to be on the same level as everyone else and try to articulate and justify intuitive vibes-based things inside yourself using the only language available to you, which is often other people on the internet. This is a bonkers unreliable way to develop and articulate an argument, opinion, or interpretation about anything. Like, example, I initially got as interested in media analysis as I did when I was a middle schooler because I watched Friendship is Magic and there was a very active community of randoms making videos about it on YouTube. Most of them were doing high school freshman levels of analysis on these pony cartoons for elementary schoolers, which was incredibly convenient for me, a 7th grader with a lot of expendable energy, because it felt novel and challenging without being inaccessible to hear words like 'continuity' and 'character development' and 'metaphor' getting thrown around and broken down. However, it is important to note, I was Also paying a lot of attention in my PreAP English classes IRL. I graduated highschool with a college freshman level of English literature education and media literacy, at least according to them institutions what say who's smart and who's smartn't.

If I was dismissing my English classes out of hand because I figured 'I have other plans for my life, I don't need to dig into this gay little book about boys at a boarding school.' (Go read A Separate Peace) 'What was the takeaway from Lord of the Flies? People are weird and do bad stuff to one another, idk.' 'Why are we reading Shakespeare? Romeo and Juliet is depressing and I don't care about any of the other ones.' If I'd decided not to expend the energy becoming excellent at media analysis, I'd still be at that level I was in the 7th grade, kind of understanding that character development is important and things *can* mean other things and reference older stuff like myths or historical events, but not having a backlog of experience and texts I've paid close attention to which I can then apply to this random weird indie game or that shakily executed anime or that Really Visceral black humor podcast.

So basically what I'm saying is it boils down to a combination of too many people talking, too many people talking past eachother, and a lot of really underqualified analysts attempting to participate and muddying the waters.

"Media Literacy"

I know it is a problem, but everytime I hear someone say "Media Literacy is dead", I just hear someone saying "I'm so much smarter than these idiots!", like they themselves already know everything about how media literacy works, have never had an uninformed or biased take and that stories have ONE WAY they can ever be read or experienced or understood.

But maybe I'm misunderstanding the trend, so let's get this out: when people say there is a media literacy crisis, what EXACTLY do you mean?

[soothingaura]

it's so cool that you're practicing japanese tea ceremony, i'd expect nothing less from a person as graceful as you. we have similar interests in terms of exuding elegance and femininity so may i ask where you started in terms of your hobbies? i enjoy the arts and cuisine but it's such a broad space that i don't know where to start. thank you for your time, dove!

Oh I’m not practising it, just reading a book on it :) would love to take part in chanoyu whenever I visit Japan though! 🍵

I suppose I started with sketching when I was younger. I also used to dance (Bharatnatyam and ballet), play tennis, play piano and guitar, took candle making and pottery classes in school, was exposed to different cultures from travelling at a young age so I explored music, art, dance, and culture when I was a child and that just blossomed into more as I grew older. For instance, I may not dance ballet anymore but I do watch it—I’d visit my local opera house and watch whatever perfomances they had on (last I watched was Swan Lake). A tip for you would be to tap into things you liked as a child and explore that.

At the moment, I love reading and learning about different topics from spirituality to science to languages, so I tend to peruse books, academic papers, etc. I supposed that’s my current hobby (and probably will be something I always do). I’m also learning calligraphy on my own!

If you’re having trouble with finding a hobby just narrow down what you already like, for instance if you know you’re fond of cuisine perhaps you can brainstorm and break it down. Maybe you could tackle different parts of the world, for instance start with East Asia and start watching documentaries/shows, reading books by chefs you like, and cooking recipes of certain countries in East Asia like Japan, Vietnam, and Korea. Learn the etiquette. Then maybe learn their terms for food and segue into learning the language! This is how I pick up on hobbies.. just a snowball effect really!

Hope this helped :)

[9tzuyu]

the art of delicate hands ��� pt. i

[ wandanat. ]

College AU.

Multiple part series ;

↳ snippets of their relationship and how I perceive them.

sumary:

wanda doesn't like to talk very much, only to her brother (and sometimes her lovely redheaded girlfriend).

notes:

if anyone international is reading this, ASL is shortened for american sign language (language of the hands).

+

this is a revised and edited version from when i wrote it on ao3 in 2018.

The only person that knew was Pietro. It was her little secret, and she could only hope that no one now would find out. She knew she shouldn't be ashamed, it was nothing to be ashamed over. Unsurprisingly however, it became her biggest insecurity – years of relentless bullying ensued that.

Wanda was always anxious. When she was seven she began experiencing panic attacks. The metallic taste of blood in her mouth became familiar over time as her panic attacks worsened.

All because she was mute and didn't feel comfortable to speak to anyone, including her parents. The only person Wanda felt comfortable enough to talk to was her brother (you could say that's because they're twins).

A doctor in Sokovia mentioned to Wanda's parents that therapy may help, that it may get her to speak more than four words a week. So her parents moved her when she was 16 and hoped for the best.

Within a year and a half Wanda was able to develop a clear understanding of American Sign Language. Eight months into the move and Wanda's parents had given up on Wanda ever talking, something that she took personal. They didn't catch on to English as quick as the twins did, their native language stuck closer than expected. Pietro didn't mind learning English quickly as he wanted to fit in school, and he also didn't mind studying ASL to communicate with Wanda on a deeper level.

American high school wasn't much better than her hometown. People talked, whispered and gossiped about her in class, muttered hurtful things about her appearance and the way she carried herself; a shy, quiet, timid girl. The worst part of it was when they mocked her for using a language that was supposed to feel safe for her. Pietro always came to her rescue, shooing people away, reminding them that she's his sister. The silver haired boy had no problem fitting in, it was only when they were apart did people tease the younger brunette.

When their parents died, Wanda took the brunt of the emotional attack it had on the twins. She'd been sitting in the backseat of the car, earbuds in, with her music volume at maximum capacity. Her father had tried to tell her to turn down the music while her mother rest in the passenger seat, window down with her eyes closed. When Wanda didn't hear her father, he reached over, eyes off the road, and tapped her. The second she registered his touch a semi-truck hit her father's door. In a matter of minutes Wanda and Pietro both were left alone to fend for themselves.

Putting the blame on herself only caused her to shut down further. It took over a year for Wanda to speak to Pietro again.

But as per usual, the twins stuck together and finished high school. The only difference was that they lived in foster care, they belonged to the state, up for grabs if anyone wanted them. That came to an end six months into their stay. The foster family proposed the idea of adoption, they had no problem in taking care of the twins for the rest of the time being – or, if they wanted, every day after as well.

At twenty, Wanda and Pietro eventually both went to college and shared a house with a bundle of other people on campus. The younger sibling even found herself a girlfriend within the group, her name being Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha didn't mind at all how little Wanda talked. She was curious, of course, but even before their relationship Nat never pushed her girlfriend into anything uncomfortable. Natasha could tell Wanda always made effort though, that's what drove the brunette into allowing herself a relationship.

When the redhead would sleep, Wanda would continuously practice signing. She'd sign songs and poems, movie scripts and books, everything she possibly could to improve herself. It was a very personal, in touch form of language for her.

Wanda had been with her girlfriend a little over a year and Natasha still didn't know all the unpleasant factors that came about her life. Wanda only told her just enough to get by, and she felt immensely guilty for that. Truth was she desperately wanted to tell Natasha, she just didn't know how. She'd thought about just signing something to her and hoping she would catch on, but figured that would be too much. Anxiety spiked in her chest and in her bones, and she was tired of feeling like a liar.

With a sigh, Wanda plopped down on her bed and pulled her phone out from her back pocket. Unlocking it, she went to her text messages and scrolled to Pietro's contact. When she was sure no one else was in the house, she tapped the call button and listened to the phone ring until Pietro answered.

"You know I'm in the other room, right? You literally could've called my name." He greeted, accent heavy through the speaker.

Wanda giggled as she ran her fingers through her hair. You're safe. Speak, it's okay. She reminded herself.

"Yeah, but are you free?"

"Always."

"Can you come here? I need to ask you about something." Pietro gave out a loud, playful sigh but walked to her room, disconnecting the call on his way in. "What is it, my dear sister? What could possibly be troubling you here on this day? Is it that scruffy redhead?" He smirked arrogantly but sat down in the desk chair across from Wanda, not failing to notice how she rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't have scruffy hair and you know it. It's soft, gentle – and much less damaged than your shit show of an excuse for bleached hair."

"Whatever you say, little chaos."

Wanda groaned, "Why must you still call me that?"

"It suits you well."

There was a shared moment of silence between the two before Pietro spoke up. "What was it you wanted to ask me about?" A small frown was plastered on Wanda's face and Pietro found himself wanting to know even more now. Wanda waited another minute before finally answering. "Should I tell her? You know, about..."

A huge smile took over her brother's face. He was ecstatic that she wanted this for her girlfriend. "Of course you should! I really think she'd be interested to know more about you – y'know, since you don't ever tell her anything."

"I tell her things!" Pietro shook his head, "Does she even know your birthday?" Wanda nodded and turned herself away from him. "I just don't know how to do it. I mean it'd be kind of heavy just taking her out to dinner only to tell her my deepest, darkest secret afterwards. I'm scared she'll hate me, Pietro! And I've never even spoke. More than like, 12 sentences all at once with her!" He softened knowing how much trouble one past  had caused his little sister. "Write her a note?" He suggested, but she shook her head. "I want to tell her, not write her."

Right before he was about to speak again there was a knock at the door. The pair looked up to find Natasha standing in the doorway smiling down at the two. "Am I interrupting?"

Wanda froze while Pietro arrogantly raised his eyebrow and announced his answer. "No. We were just finished talking."

Confusion was written on Nat's face and she stood there until Wanda shook her head and muttered a small "No," giving her the signal that she could come in.

"I'll be in the other room if you need me." Pietro got up, despite Wanda's silent plea for him to stay. He gave her a thumbs up and left the room.

Natasha closed the door and laid next to Wanda, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. "You okay?" Wanda nodded in reply and Natasha knew not to push. For now she'd just keep an eye on her, reassuring her that she could talk to her if need be.

Over the next few days Wanda seemed to be doing better. She was supposed to go to a party with Nat, but opted out to study for classes instead.

"Be safe," she whispered and planted a small kiss on Natasha's lips.

Everyone else went to the same party, leaving the house to just Wanda. She sent out a group message telling everyone to text her or ring her (at the very most importance) if they needed a ride. Wanda didn't drink much anyways so she didn't mind being the designated driver of the bunch. And besides, she didn't mind having some time alone, it gave her the absence of the boys so she could study.

However, after over an hour or so of studying Wanda was beginning to feel stressed. Her nerves were building and she could feel her jaw clench.

She needed a break.

With a small sigh, she got up and connected her phone to her speaker. After scrolling and clicking on her song of choice, Wanda found herself signing the words to a Modest Mouse song.

Green eyes closed as her hands began to string along with the words of the song. It was rather fast paced, but Wanda was able to keep up fairly well thanks to years of practice. Lyrics flowed through her fingertips and in the palms of her hands, her stress levels immediately decreasing as she went on.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Natasha was standing in the doorway watching her every move. She was absolutely mesmerized by Wanda's hand motions. Her finger spelling was very fast, and Natasha was curious to know how long Wanda had known ASL.

When the song was over, Wanda stopped her music and moved herself so she could study again. She grabbed her pens, pencils and highlighters, along with her textbook while her back faced Natasha.

"I didn't know you could sign." Natasha commented. A mix of shock and uneasiness quickly took over the calm look on Wanda's face.

It wasn't until then when Tasha put two and two together. She quickly rushed over to her girlfriend, and carefully engulfed her into a hug.

"Hey, no, I think it's really cool. You don't have to worry now, your secret's safe with me." Wanda began to shake in her grasp, tears forming in her eyes. She backed out of the embrace and against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest.

"No, you're supposed to hate me, laugh at me. You're supposed to be anything but be cool with it." Natasha tilted her head, "Is that what they did to you?"

Wanda peaked out from underneath her arms, the confirmative nod sent Natasha's heart well beyond sinking. She’d never understand how people could willingly be so cruel.

"I'm here to listen, not judge." Her words softly echoed in Wanda's mind, and she watched Natasha carefully to see if she was lying. When she didn't make any remarks or snide comments, Wanda knew it was safe. Accent heavy, she began letting words slip from her mouth.

"I have really bad anxiety when it comes to talking, so I just don’t. Asl makes it easier to communicate, but growing up I was often teased for it. You’re really good at reading me without it, so I hid it from you. Guess their words still haunt me...” Wanda finished, giving Natasha a little more insight on her life.

Natasha moved closer to her girlfriend, bringing Wanda’s shaking body into her embrace. She then kissed the top of her forehead.

Wanda looked up to see Natasha thinking, her eyebrows scrunched together and she was chewing on her lip. She nudged her.

“I think it’s quite beautiful if you ask me.” Wanda cracked a smile and rest her head on Tasha’s shoulder. “Beauty comes from pain, I guess.”

But Natasha shook her head, “No, No, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Wanda nodded. She understood what Natasha was saying, she just didn’t believe it to be true when it came to herself. Nonetheless, she spoke the words, repeating the mantra so that maybe she could start to feel a belief in them.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

[plague-of-insomnia]

Lol I *hate* that post. Also like, most people don't read classic lit, and classic lit in general can be critized as being made up of primarily cis, white, straight men. Women and queer authors often have their works shuffled into YA. And fanfic?? Primarily made of of women and queer folk (and queer women). Which... is often what the reasoning is why it's targeted.

Also, children's lit and YA lit are some of the best works I've read. They deal with harsh topics. One of my favorite books from when I was a kid is Gossamer by Lois Lowry. My class read it in fifth grade (so like, 10 year olds) and it dealt heavily with abuse and coping with and recovery from trauma. The book Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson also deals with very dark themes, and it's YA. (Also both very good books and I highly recommend each. Look up the trigger lists for them. When I say they deal with dark subjects, I mean it.)

Fanfic and YA are such broad categories, and to dismiss them shows a clear lack of true understanding of literature. Typically, when people say they dislike them, it boils down to bias against queer people, women, and romance as a genre (which was spear headed by, you guessed it, queers and women).

Also, there's nothing wrong with liking tropes. I like tropes. Everyone likes specific tropes. We've all just been copying off of one another since the beginning of art creation, and we will continue to do so. Just let people enjoy things ffs. Reading is for fun and creating fanfic is for fun. Just because I read or write something doesn't mean I want to base a master's thesis around it

[In reference to this post: TL;DR - people who only read fan fic/YA aren’t capable of understanding/analyzing complex themes bc they’re obsessed with tropes]

Oof! @gabedemon, this is all a really good point/addition to why that OP’s point was 😬.

Now I’ll confess I do not personally like YA as a general rule, largely for two reasons: 1) I don’t like reading about teens and 2) for a while EVERYONE and their grandparents were writing YA to try and hitch onto the bandwagon of popular novels turned films like Harry Potter and The Hunger Games, et al, and so a lot of people were writing stuff just to try and ride a trend rather than bc that’s what they should have been writing/what their story actually wanted.

However, you are 100% right that there are some amazing novels that fall into that broad category and are worth reading whether you’re 15 or 95 (or somewhere in between).

One of the best novels I read before my headache began (and I stopped reading novels ��) dealt with some really heavy issues (it was focused on suicide) — and it managed to delve into complex mental illness (like BPD, borderline personality disorder) and suicidality in a really realistic and complex way while not glorifying it in anyway. I highly recommend it, if the topic isn’t too tough for you (general you) to deal with, Suicide Watch:

I definitely think you see queer authors and their stories forced into niche publishers or fan fic (I don’t know if I would say only YA here as I’ve read a ton of non-YA queer published fiction).

I think you have some people who are just “snobs” who think only “serious” “literary fiction” is worth reading and has any depth. Those people have probably never read a really good YA novel (I also recommend Freaks Like Us for one that tackles mental illness in a insightful way) or any fan fic at all. (Or if they have, it’s something like My Immortal.) So they make the assumption that all fan fic must be meaningless drivel (as if there isn’t plenty of that in mainstream, published adult fiction or other media for that matter).

They also forget that people read for different reasons, and like you said, not everyone wants to read something to write a master’s thesis on.

Some “pulp” stories, like the Sherlock Holmes tales, have survived and proliferated across time and languages because people find them entertaining and can identify with the characters in some way. (Ofc some people like to analyze those stories but not everyone does; in fact, most people don’t, and that’s perfectly fine.)

So I think you have the snobs who really aren’t looking at it from a “I must crush queer writers,” though ofc you’re absolutely right about the fact that bias still exists among readers and publishers.

As I mentioned before, trying to publish a novel with a queer MC or romance through one of the big ones is really difficult for the same reason we see plenty of queer baiting in film but very few actual queer stories. Publishers are afraid that those stories won’t sell, will offend and affect sales of other books, etc, etc,

So we see the proliferation of queer stories and writers in fan fic where people are free to write whatever they want. And that’s really wonderful, imo. (But I also hope we finally see more mainstream queer stories and authors/creators as well.)

And as for tropes, honestly that was the dumbest part of the whole argument. Tropes have always and will always exist bc there’s just some things we humans love to see over and over and over again. I’m sure you could label just about any “high” art with a trope of some kind. Just bc something can be distilled into tropes doesn’t mean that’s all it is. I mean, writing programs always talk about things like “the hero’s journey” or whatever and that’s a kind of trope, too.

Anyway, I’m gonna stop before I keep rambling 😅 but yeah I think you make some really great points/additions, and I absolutely think that “all generalizations are bad” 😅😂 and trying to make a sweeping assessment like that is ridiculous.

Kind of reminds me of how much scorn “genre” fiction has gotten (think mystery novels or romance novels or sci fi, etc) because it’s “shallow.” But that has begun to change, and I do think we’re slowly seeing the attitude toward fan fic changing…. Now, if only we could chuck all the antis and their puritanical BS out the door….

[maellor]

Thanks so much for the tag, @curiouselleth!!

Are you named after anyone?

Yes, both my grandmothers.

Do you have kids?

No XDD

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not really. Only with a couple of people, but not often.

When was the last time you cried?

I have no more tears left to cry. I very often want to, but there are no tears left, so my eyes are just burning. Last time i did actually manage to shed tears was about a month ago, because my dog almost died.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Their hair, then the eyes. But hair means a lot to me.

Eye colour?

Hazel-ish.

What sports do you/have played?

Right now (and for a few years) nothing, as I'm concentrating on my studies. When i was 5 until 7 i used to dance (ballet and latin), when i was 8-11 i did swimming, 9-10 i did Tae Kwon Do and 11-14 i did Kung Fu. Then from 13 to 16 i did archery, which i absolutely loved, but i had to stop at that age to concentrate on the exams to get into uni. I really want to start archery again, but that teacher retired and the new teacher is awful.

Of course I've tried many mainstream sports at school, but I didn't like them enough to do them outside of school.

After all these I came to the conclusion that sports aren't really my thing, save archery.

Oh I also intend to try horse riding this year, but we'll see how that'll go.

Any special talent?

I'm not sure what's considered special?...

I can pick up languages relatively easily, but I don't think that's uncommon.

Uhm.. I have excellent memory, when i want to. But when i want to forget something, i can completely erase it from my memory to the point where, say, if someone refers to that event/dialogue/whatever i cannot recollect at all that it happened and that i was present.

(Then there are some more weird abilities that i have, which i don't think most of you would believe... But if you want, and you're very open-minded, dm about it! I'd be thrilled to be able to talk about those to someone.)

Where were you born?

Greece.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Neither? I don't like scary movies at all, but i also think happy endings are so rare in real life that it seems fake to me, when a movie or a book has a happy ending. How can anyone live "happily ever after" after enduring so much pain, after going through so many challenges?Even if he lives, he'll never be the same.

Like the end of lotr, for example. Yes, they win. Yes, they live. But are they happy? I don't think so. And that's a far more optimistic ending than in the Silm.

I went to see the new Indiana Jones film with my uncles and little cousins, a couple of months ago. The ending was a happy ending. And it seemed to me so damn wrong. The good guys had this big adventure, they went through so much challenges, and they just lived happily ever ever?? Like, how?? I don't get it.

That said, if i were in a group of people and we had to choose a film, I'd vote happy ending just because i dislike scary movies more.

Do you have any pets?

Yes, a dog! Before him i used to have a cat.

How tall are you?

Barely 1.59 cm.

What are your hobbies?

Reading, writing (but hesitating to post it), painting, traveling, trying to translate rock operas. Probably more that I can't think of rn.

Favourite subject in school?

It really depends on the school year.

In primary school it was music and art class.

In middle school it was the ancient greek classics (Odyssey in first grade, Iliad in second grade, Helen by Euripides in third grade).

In high school... in first grade we had a theater class, wish was interesting. In second and third grade we were just preparing for the Panhellenic exams, to pass to university. I was studying language, history, ancient greek and sociology. I didn't like any of those, but sociology was by far the easiest, so i preferred it.

In uni, the best i had so far was British poetry, just because i managed to convince my teacher to let me write a paper on Finrod's part in the Lay of Leithian

Dream job?

Ummm... Realistically speaking? If it weren't for my inability to talk to a group of grown ups, maybe an academic. I don't really want to be a teacher in a school, because I don't have the mental ability right now to pretend that everything is okay, put on a smile and teach kids... Although that's probably what I'll end up doing.

I also really want to be a writer, i have thought of a few original stories... But I don't think that being a full time writer is enough to live comfortably. So that'll have to be a side job...

Unrealistically speaking, i would love to be an astronomer or an astronaut, but I can't math. I tried following that career path, but I'm just so bad at math i had to change to literature.

Also unrealistically speaking I'd love to be a singer/actor in musicals and rock operas, but my voice is truly awful

But it's not like I'm dying about having any of these jobs. And that's because they are all real jobs, in the real world. I don't want to be in the real world. I want to be in Middle Earth. Gosh I'd die to live in the First Age... What would my job there be? I don't know, I'd probably follow Maglor and do whatever he wants which might include kinslaying but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. Then I'd probably die fighting, but that's fine by me.

I'm bored to search who has done this already and who hasn't, so if any of you I'll tag have done it pls let me know!

No-pressure tagging:

@caenith, @general-illyrin, @totally-not-one-of-the-fae, @bloodandsteelwolf, @spiced-wine-fic, @quixoticanarchy, @samarqqand, @solarcola

and anyone else who wants to!!

Fifteen Questions for Fifteen Mutuals

With apologies for answering this so late - thank you for tagging me, @general-illyrin!!

Are you named after anyone? Not my first name - my middle name is named after a character in a very obscure fantasy novel though

Do you have kids? No.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yes, nearly constantly, I'm a snarky bitch

When was the last time you cried? Like...last week? Life is hard rn ok

What's the first thing you notice about other people? Honestly? Probably their hair. I like hair :)

Eye colour? Blue

What sports do you/have played? I used to run a lot if that counts, lately my health has been very borked so not so much anymore. I played soccer in middle school I guess? look im a nerd, what did you expect

Any special talent? ummmm. I play violin. I used to teach an elementary school orchestra so I guess I'm pretty good at wrangling 2nd graders? I'm also fairly good at wrangling Karens, I used to be a retail manager and it shows haha. oh I'm also very good at getting along with unfriendly cats.

Where were you born? USA

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings, i hate scary movies

Do you have any pets? Yes! A cat named Momo (yes, he is named after the lemur from ATLA)

How tall are you? 5' 10.5", or 179 cm

What are your hobbies? Writing fanfic, reading fanfic, running (when I'm less sick), playing chess, playing Mario Party, uhhh does getting boba count as a hobby because i do a lot of it

Favorite subject in school? English/literature by a wide margin. Despite this I am now a chemical engineer

Dream job? Scientist who has the breakthrough that saves the planet and stops global warming. im doing my best ok

No-pressure tagging @eilinelsghost, @curuwen, @arrivisting, @leucisticpuffin, @redbootsindoriath, @mersilisk, @sakasakiii, @skull-bearer, @sesamenom, @aotearoa20, @solmarillion, @welcomingdisaster, @cycas, @idrilsscribe, and @melestasflight! You all are amazing <3

[youreawizardharr]

Cradlesona Event: School Days AU

[the image used can be sourced here.]

Welcome to Milreth

Name: Milreth Academy

Location: Central Quarter

Emblem: Two Staffs Clashing

Motto: "Ever Progressing."

Headmaster: William Latton

Academy Hours: 7:30 a.m - 4:30 p.m

Office Hours: 6:20 a.m - 6:20 p.m

Lunch Hour: 12:30 p.m - 1:15 p.m

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My piece for the Cradlesona AU event

Tagging: @lovingsiriusoswald

The uniform below can be found right here.

The uniform Eirene has worn since she attended Milreth Academy as a first year student. She always wears the jacket during class hours, and takes it off during breaks.

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"Hold fast to dreams,

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird,

That cannot fly."

Basic Information

Name: Eirene Beverly Chapman

Age: 20

Date of Birth: July 9th

Bloodtype: AB

Gender: Female

Height: 5'3"

Weight: 127lbs

Occupation(s): The Classicists

Affiliation(s): Milreth Academy

Alignment: Neutral Good

Item(s): a lanyard with her student ID

Academic Information

Year at Milreth Academy: Second Year

Academic Club: House of Arts

Choice of Course: Art & Design

Major: Fine & Studio Arts

Degree Needed: Master's Degree

The Overview: The coursework of a studio and fine art degree typically focuses on the branch of art students choose, such as painting, sculpture, illustration, animation or performance.

Favorite Subject(s):

Reading

History

Literature

Language Arts

Least Favorite Subject(s):

Mathematics

Science

Grade Point Average: 3.8

Academic Credits: 390

Studying Habits:

Eirene prefers a quiet enviroment to study for exams, complete homework or class assignments, practicing with drawing on paper, painting illustrations.

She sometimes organizes study sessions for upcoming exams or class projects (to which she deems important for social interactions, boosts friendships, and helps others in areas they have a harder time with). Eirene usually studies with almost everyone, but studies with Harr and Loki mostly.

Eirene has an exceptional memory, so she doesn't have to write down everything she needs to do or to get.

Her sleep schedule varies at nighttime, mostly because of projects, assignments, writing essays, or exams.

She makes sure to eat healthier snacks.

Student History:

Eirene received a perfect attendance award for never missing a day, or being marked as tardy for being late to class.

A painting she did of the garden in the Civic Center was auctioned at a museum for an extremely high price.

She has wrote several short stories which were published and sold at bookstores across the Central Quarter.

Student Life:

Eirene doesn't have much of a social life, meaning she isn't the partying type, and likes to spend her time wisely by being productive than some of her friends.

She loves going to Milreth's enormous library, but avoids the cafe because it gets overly crowded during exam days.

Eirene enjoys taking long walks or jogging along Milreth's huge courtyard.

Whenever inspiration strikes, she loves drawing, writing, or painting whatever it is that catches her interest. Eirene usually submits these pieces for classes.

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Relationships

Harr Silver ;

Harr is a third year student at Milreth Academy. However, he and Eirene are taking two completely different courses. With Eirene having chosen art & design, majoring in fine and studio art, where as he's taking a course on engineering, majoring in architecture. The two are constantly busy, but always find the time to spend together.

Eirene leans forward, continuing to run the tips of her fingers through black tresses. "Hey, Harr?" Her inquiry is murmurered, but the man in question hears her, humming to confirm he heard her. "Want to come over for a study session? You can bring Loki along, if you feel uncomfortable being alone with me." Harr opens his visible eye, staring up at his girlfriend of two years. "W-What do you need help with?" He looks away from her, a blush blossoming onto his face. "Are you having problems with math again, Eirene?"

She stops playing with his hair to stroke his reddening cheek. "You know I've never been particularly talented with mathematics, Harr. But you seem to have no issues with figuring out complicated math problems, am I right?"

The third year student sat up, shifting to address his lover. "I can help you in areas you have the most trouble with. If I have issues with drawing and maping things out, I know you will help me. We balance eachoth--- Eirene cuts him off, pressing her lips against his. Pulling away, she smiles happily. "You know I'll do anything for you, right, Harr?"

Loki Genetta ;

Loki is a first year student at Milreth Academy. He decided to take a course on business, majoring in business management & administration, minoring business sales. Loki wanted to take a course on business, so that he can work closely with Harr. Hoping that, when the two of them graduate, they can open up their own business in Cradle.

Eirene and Loki always hang out together on weekends or through group study sessions. If Harr is too busy, Loki will help Eirene with her standardized homework, and even allows her to practice drawing illustrations of him and watch her paint them, afterward.

Loki procrastinates completing his work alot of the time, making Harr lecture him about the importance of his education and that working hard will pay off once he graduates, even reminding Loki about them opening their own business in the Central Quarter, which inspires Loki to complete his work.

"Loki, have you completed your homework?" Harr inquired the pink haired teen, scrubbing a filthy dish with a soapy sponge. "Have you even started your class project? You know, your paper is due next week." Loki silently toys around with his unfinished dinner, causing the tips of the fork to scrap against the glass. "Eirene is writing my paper. And before you start nagging, she offered to write it for me. She said she wanted to practice writing, so I agreed in exchange for doing her math homework for her. I hate writing, you know that. I believe this is fair."

Harr rinces the plate once he finished scrubbing, setting it down in the dish rack. "Your education is important. I've told you this countless times. Both of you should be doing the work yourselves, so that you can learn to accomplish in areas you're weak in." The third year student grabs another plate to scrub. "Do you want to open up a business with me once you graduate from the academy?" Loki stood up from the table to scrap leftover food into the trash with his fork. "I do want to open up a business with you, Harr. I thought this course would be fun, but it's not fun. There's too much work involved." A sigh escapes from Harr. "Loki, you have to work for what you want. Life isn't going to hand everything to you. If you want to open up a business with me, work hard to achieve it. I will support your dream."

Loki ran up the stairs to his room, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing throughout the house. Harr returns to washing the rest of the dishes, making a mental note to lecture Eirene at a later date.

Seth Hyde ;

Seth is a third year student at Milreth Academy. He decided to take a course in art & design, majoring in fashion & apparel design. He wants to be a fashionista, and expand his experience in the fashion industry of Cradle. Seth is confident in his ability to design fashion wear for women.

Eirene and Seth met by accident one afternoon (during break, to be more precise), becoming good friends with one another.

"You made a mistake." Eirene pointed out, gesturing toward the mistake Seth made. The man let out a shriek when he noticed the mistake. "How can this be?! I was certain I drew the curves correctly!" Smiling, Eirene takes the artbook from him, using her own pencil to erase the mistake and correct it. "No worries." She handed the drawing book back to him. "My name is Eirene Chapman."

He grins, placing the artbook down beside him. "My name is Seth Hyde. Want to be friends, Eirene? We can bond over artwork."

The two of them mostly hang out during breaks, sharing their drawing techniques, offering advice about improving styles, etc. Seth and Eirene brainstorm color palettes, and Seth watches Eirene paint his designs.

Jonah Clemence ;

Jonah is a third year student of Milreth Academy. He decided to take a course in art & design, majoring in drama & theater art. He's confident with his performances on the stage, and wants to be a famous, talented actor of Cradle. Eirene met Jonah when she was tasked to help set the stage for an upcoming event the academy planned for.

"This goes against my aesthetics." Jonah remarked, taking Eirene's artwork and throwing it on the floor of the stage. "Make it better." The second year student kept her mouth shut, feeling her eyes sting with unshed tears. Seth came up besides Eirene, picking up the scenery illustration she made. "What do you know about aesthetics, Cling of Hearts? I believe Ei did a fantastic job painting this piece. Do you know how many hours she's worked on it?" The fashion designer scolded the young actor. "Do you?"

The Queen of Hearts scoffed, regarding Seth with disdain. "No, but I don't care. Everything has to be perfect for this play, since I have the lead role. Second best is not an option."

Eirene forces a smile, reaching down to pick up an opened can of paint. "You think my work is second best? I put my heart into everything I draw, paint, and write. If you wanted someone better, then you shouldn't have wasted your time asking for MY help." She dumps all the paint on Jonah, throwing the can off to the side once there's nothing left, storming off the stage, leaving a shocked Seth and an angry Jonah behind.

[sellingmysoulforbts]

You're having second thoughts about your career choice. BTS x Reader Reaction

Genre: mild angst, fluff. College AU. Gender neutral.

Warnings: strong language, self degradation.

as requested by @erraticsoul

A/N: I just wanna say that it is okay to change your career path. You're really young when you are forced to choose what you want to do for the rest of your life and we sometimes make mistakes. The most important thing is that you are happy.

Kim Seokjin

He was there for you, every single time you needed that extra support. This madness began when you started having trouble with some of the subjects that you had to take in college. Thoughts like 'how can I become a professional if I can't solve this simple exercise?' clouded your brain. Jin came on time only to find you crying over your homework.

"Tell me, how am I supposed to do this my entire life?"

"By giving your best, like I know you do, and if that's not enough then it's probably not what you should be doing" he would answer.

Then he proceeded to tell you one of his terrible jokes about the subject your having trouble with. Like if you weren't having it with chemistry he'd go "hey, are you made of copper and tellurium? 'Cause you're CuTe" and if that didn't work, he'd always come to you with a new plate he's made in class because he definitely a culinary arts major.

Min Yoongi

He was confused, like he didn't get how you felt at all. Since he was really young he new what his goals were and started working really hard to achieve them. You, on the other hand, have thought about every single career path, none of them seemed to completely fulfill you. Like you went from wanting to be a model to a rocket scientist in the span of two months, so you knew as soon as you filled that application form to enter college, with whatever career you had landed eyes on at the moment you weren't going to stick to it. Yoongi would try so hard to help you find something you like and would like doing for the rest of your life, just like he did.

"Okay, how about being a teacher?" He suggested one time.

"But I'll have to know the subject first, so what can I teach?"

"Never mind" he said.

He would just enroll you in a bunch of classes that have nothing to do with your current major, just to see if you'd like any of it.

Wanting to become a producer was his lifelong dream, the feeling he got every time he got a step closer was something Yoongi wanted you to experience as well, so he'd never give up on you.

Jung Hoseok

He would be the one to notice and call you out on it. Hobi was a dance major, so he had practice almost every day and you'd come, even if it was late or skip classes to see him. At first he didn't think much about it, and he appreciated the effort you were putting into the relationship, but then you stopped coming like once a week or just skipping a class to have lunch together and began coming like three times a week, and he would see you around campus with friends when he knew you had class.

"Hey, I saw you today walking out of campus" he said one day, after he was done with practice and you were still there.

"Oh, really? I didn't see you, I'd have said hi. At what time did you see me?"

"While you were supposed to be in class" he answered, trying not to sound mad.

"Yeah, the professor cancelled it last minute, so I didn't really have time to tell you" you genuinely thought he was jealous because you were hanging out with boys, but he wasn't. You'd you really be here so late if you were cheating on him? No, and he knew you would never, but he was concerned.

"And has he cancelled classes all week, and last one?" He inquired.

His tone gave away he was implying that you had been skipping class for the whole month.

"No" you answered softly.

"Is everything okay?"

"No" you answered again. He took your hands as a way to show you his support. "Why?" "I just don't feel happy anymore, like when I first got in I was so sure this was what I wanted and now I find it hard and I'm really stressed. I've been looking for other career options and I might change majors so I guess I lost interest and just stopped making an effort to pass" you shrugged, he kissed your hands.

"It's okay. We're still very young and I want you to do something that makes you happy"

Kim Namjoon

You. Felt. Dumb. You were having such a hard time in some classes, and not understanding anything your teacher said. At first you just worked a little harder and visited your professor to ask some questions, but seeing your classmates getting good grades or putting a minimum effort to understand, made you feel out of place and dumb, like actually stupid. Namjoon was an extremely intelligent human being, and that's no secret. He was an English major, and an outstanding student.

He was going to surprise you, you had been busy all week with schoolwork and he knew how hard you worked so he gave you your space, but it was Friday and he missed you like crazy. He didn't expect, when he walked into your apartment, to see you crying over your homework. Like actually balling your eyes out. Your brain was so chemically imbalanced at the moment that you barely felt arms wrapping around your sobbing form.

He managed to calm you down a little bit, and finally asked what's wrong.

"I can't do it Namjoon, I actually am incapable of doing it. I'm just a stupid piece of shit who can't even solve her homework. Why am I even trying at this point? I'm going to fail because my brain does not have the capacity to understand this subject" you basically yelled out and broke down crying again. He was so pained to see you like that and hearing that horrible things from your mouth broke his heart.

"Shh, don't say that baby, you are not dumb" "of course you'd say that, mister my IQ is 148, I only get As with minimum effort. I've being working on this thing for a week. A WEEK, and I can't do it. My teacher is sick of me for going every single day to ask him something." You were getting angry at this point, not with him but with yourself. Maybe throw in your parents as well for making you this way, but not at him, never at him, even though your words proved otherwise.

"Baby, look at me." He said. You shook your head embarrassed at your attitude.

He squatted right in front of you and took your face in his hands, dried your tears and smiled.

"You are not dumb, not because you have to work a little harder does it mean you're less capable of doing something. Besides, you're so far from stupid. When I look at you I see a wonderful human being, smart and kind, and that's what I love about you. Your perspective on the world, and your unique way of understanding things." He told with a sincere voice and that made you smile a little. "Also, I do put effort into my work but I like what I do so much that I doesn't feel like it, now tell me, do you like what you're doing?" He asked. " I don't know anymore" "okay how about this? Let's take a break right now, we go grab something to eat, we get back, cuddle, watch a movie. Just relax and not think about college for a while. And we can discuss this in the morning with a fresh mind."

Park Jimin

He was mostly sad, you didn't choose this for yourself, it was your parents dream. He would just try and comfort you, by hugging you and whispering words of encouragement. You were sad, angry and scared. You couldn't do what you wanted because your parents didn't support you but you also didn't want to disappoint them.

"I'm so sick of this Jimin, I don't think I can keep doing this." You said one day, you had to study for your upcoming tests but finding motivation was hard.

He couldn't fully comprehend your dilemma, his parents were super supportive.

"I know baby, but the semester is almost over."

"And then comes the next, and one after that, and on and on, not to mention the years ahead of me of working in this" you wanted to cry, just let out your frustration.

"Hey, how about, you start taking classes for what you really want, until you build up the courage to talk to them." He suggested. "I don't know I'm so scared." Your voice broke a little. His caring instincts kicking in immediately, so he hugged you. "It okay, I'm sure what they want is for you to be happy and have a safe future financially, that's why you're here, but you can prove to them that you'll succeed doing whatever you want, and I'm here to support you every step of the way. I believe in you, and besides I'm quite thankful to your parents for picking that for you or we might have never met."

"You're right" and with him by your side you had the motivation you needed.  

Kim Taehyung

It was hard, Tae, your boyfriend, always seemed to have more free time, and enjoy his college experience way more than you did. He was one of the few things you were grateful for, during your time in college. The little study dates you had were like the only way to get you to open a book, and they were a 2x1 deal for him. Taehyung was an art history student and it required to read a lot so he could do his school work and spend time with you. You weren't irresponsible or anything but you started to wonder if you chose your career right, because the lack of motivation was really dragging you down. You were in the coffee shop you usually went with Taehyung to study just contemplating how you wanted your life to look in ten years, when he came.

"Hey" he said. "Hi" you answered still a little distraught. "Did you order?" You nodded in response. "Is everything o-" he started but you soon interrupted him "how did you know what you wanted to study?" "well my school took us to a museum for a school trip once, and I was fascinated by the art, but also intrigued as to what led the painters to do such masterpieces and I guess I got hooked on that. Why?" "I'm just not sure with what I'm doing,I never had a revelation moment so I just went with what sounded the least unpleasant at the moment" "Well how about we finish here and we can go find some counselling for you?" "You think I should change majors?" "Baby, when was the last time you felt happy and satisfied with your work and what you learned?" He asked and you grew quiet at that. "Exactly. What you do for the rest of your life has to be something that you enjoy and you're clearly not enjoying this." So you did just that, found help to discover what makes you happy.

Jeon Jungkook

I mean he would be kinda disappointed that you didn't told him first thing and that he had to discover it for himself. You were thinking and rethinking if you had made the right choice, so you turned yourself into a little help from the internet, trying thing from quizzes all the way to astrological birth charts, of course when he wasn't around.

As you were spending the weekend together doing homework and watching movies, he stumbled upon a word he didn't quite know the meaning of. He was studying animation, and taking classes for film production, but he was trying to do some homework for an English class.

"Babe, can I use your phone real quick? Mine ran out of battery" he asked. "Sure, what for?" "I just want to Google this word" he said and have you that bunny smile, you handed him the phone unblocked, not worrying in the slightest. He got it,and quickly clicked on the  navigator, as he was about to type he peeked at your search history, things like 'how to choose your major', 'how do I know if I made the right decision','best careers based on your zodiac sign' that last one made him chuckle but he was generally preoccupied, because something was definitely wrong. He made a mental note to talk to you about it. Jungkook quickly made the research and completed his task. He then approached you, to give it back to you. You were just in the couch reading something, as he handed you the phone with a smile you sensed something off. "So, what's the best career for a virgo?" He wondered. It took a minute for it to click. "Kook…" you trailed of, not sure as to what to say. He sat down next to you. "Why wouldn't you tell me?" "I just- I was.. am so confused. I believe I chose what I did for a reason but now I'm not so sure and it been going on for a while. I guess I didn't want to bother you with stupid problems like that." You told him. He just shook his head. "That's why I am your boyfriend, so you can come to me with whatever is bothering you and we can fix it together cause we're a team, and it works the other way around too." "You're right, sorry" "It's okay, but promise me you will from now on" " I will, I promise" you smiled at him and he answered back "now that that's out of the way, let's find your perfect major" and with a kiss on your cheek, you then proceed to go through a lot of lists and quizzes a lot of websites suggested, together.

~~

a/n: I’m so sorry this took so long but the scenario really hit home and I got distracted, anyways i hope you enjoy it and like it. 

gifs not mine