#although all of them are relevant bc it is not thoughts u have ONLY within fandom ?? yea | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

liquorisce · 2 years ago

Note

Do you have like little observations or details about IDILY's Eren and Mikasa that didn't make it to the final story? Like very little facts about them that you thought about but weren't relevant to the story, or you just didn't incorporate but thought about, or even your own "headcanons" about them in the story?

I've been waiting for a long time to answer this bc i needed to be at my desk but!!! tysm for this question

i wrote a huge bit about mikasa's childhood and how she became friends with armin... that didn't make it in the story :( idk if i will be able to fit it in later or when i finally finish it and go back to revise it maybe i can fit it in... if u have any suggestions pls share :)

but here u go!!

i dreamed i left you - deleted scene [4.5k+]

MIKASA

[14 years old]

One day when I was fourteen, my mother told me I’d be changing schools. I blinked at her slowly and asked only one thing, “But Mother, it’s the middle of term. Won’t it affect my grades?”

“No, Mikasa. They said they’ll take care of it.” And then she sat next to me and did something she did often when she wanted to tell me something she deemed important; she caressed my hair and tucked it behind my ear. “Listen to me carefully.” I was right. “This is a really good opportunity for you, Mikasa. It is a very prestigious school. And we are so lucky that we have a chance to send you to a school like this,” she hesitated at this, looking somewhat shameful, “with our limited means.”

Growing up poor makes you understand these sorts of euphemisms well. Limited means, Our station, Within our status; these were just different ways to talk about money and our lack thereof. “Then how will we manage, Mother?”

She gave me a forced smile. “One of the patrons of the restaurant has arranged it. You will have a full scholarship until you finish your studies.” She patted my head, signaling the end of our conversation. “Pending good grades, of course.”

My mother never had to worry about that. My grades were always excellent. It was something she’d beaten into me when I got my first grade: A–, on a math test. Turns out I had made a mistake and added two lemons into the basket instead of removing them, and hence arrived at an incorrect total. I made sure to read every question at least twice, ever since then, just to be sure. And if I ever forgot, she was always happy to remind me, ruler in hand.

“What does that mean then? A prestigious school?” My friend Sasha had asked me when I told her we could no longer eat lunch together every day. That was my comprehension of friendship back then. My life had little in the name of adversity, for a friend to adopt any opposing significance. And I didn’t have much time, with all the extra-curriculars my mother had packed into my schedule, for playdates or any such thing.

“Mother says it means a lot of important people send their kids there to study.”

“So does that mean they’re all smart? That would make sense,” Sasha says thoughtfully. “You’re a smart girl, Mikasa.”

“I’m not sure,” I say honestly. “I do think they’d have much fancier lunches than you or I, though.”

Sasha pouts at her egg sandwiches. “I’m jealous. Although I love your lunch! Mama Ackerman makes the best stir-fried noodles.”

I passed her the rest of my lunch and gave her a small smile. “She only makes it because she knows you eat more than half of it.” It was true, the cut apples and bananas were meant to make up a significant portion of my lunch.

My uniform arrived the weekend before I was meant to start. It was fancier than my current one. It had a little gold logo, with three ornate circles intersecting with each other. And the fabric was better too, the sweater was actually warm, and the colours were a pleasing cream and white instead of the ugly grey that I wore until last week.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror as my mother pulled on my hair ungently and combed it back into a braid. My bangs covered my forehead. “Did you memorise the list that I gave you?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s important for you to understand who is who. This isn’t like your public school—”

“I memorised it and went through it twice again this morning.”

“Okay…” I look up at her. My mother and eye have the same eyes, the same hair and probably the same face shape as when she was about twenty years younger. “I know I’m hard on you,” she says, with considerable discomfort.

I don’t say anything back. What would be the point of acknowledging this? Yes, I breathe air. Yes, my mother treated me harshly. Felt equivalent. Felt normal. She turns me around me and slicks my flyaways down. “But we need to work hard. People like us don’t get the opportunity to take it easy.”

As I walked the entire way to school that day— my new school was thirty minutes away by foot, whereas my previous school was just one block away— I thought about what she said. At first, I thought that she meant people like us, people without money, could not afford to take it easy, but when I think back to it, she had a faraway look in her eyes. Perhaps she meant the other thing— the matter of our otherness.

My mother was from overseas. That’s all she said about it. Nothing more to be said, she’d tell me whenever I dared to press her on the subject. As far as she was concerned, I was from here: a real, proper citizen of Paradis. Born and brought up here, I’d never stepped foot on another land. But it didn’t matter. Paradis didn’t have the best of international relations, and here I am, with the face of an outsider.

I thought this is what had worried my mother, who had obsessively made me memorize a list of “important people” and their children who apparently attended this school. So I now stare at the tall, iron gates that housed a school that looked more like a castle, replete with towers and a medieval facade, with my head filled with names of people I’d never met before.

<hr>

I didn’t get it at first, but eventually, I understood why my mother made me do it. Apparently “Hi, my name is Mikasa Ackerman,” didn’t really cut it as an introduction around here. There was a lot of “who’s your father?” and “what does your father do?” talk that sounded plain odd to me. I doubt anybody other than Sasha and a couple of other girls, from my previous school, cared to know that my parents owned a small but popular noodle shop in the city centre. But my answers of “Henrik Ackerman,” and “He owns Lemongrass, a noodle shop on 17th Main,” didn’t seem to impress many. So eventually, I just kept my head down and avoided introductions altogether. You didn’t have to speak to anybody if weren’t in anybody’s way.

It wasn’t always easy though. On one such occasion, I was paired up with Armin Arlert for a history assignment, and as my list of names would remind me, he was the grandson of a very influential ex-Foreign Minister. I stuck my hand out towards him but he didn’t take it. “Mikasa Ackerman, I know,” he says, giving me a small smile, as we head out of class. He saved me the trouble of introduction, but I couldn’t help but wonder what else he knew about me, what else he had heard.

“My name’s Armin, which you also know, I suppose.” He watches me with his clear blue eyes from across the table. His voice is not fully broken, and he wears his hair in an adorable bowl cut, but as soft as he looked, I could tell there was a hardness within him. It felt comfortable, to be honest. After all, I had a hardness within me too.

“So,” he said, the next day, when we sat at the library going through a list of potential topics for our paper. “How do you like it at the Academy so far?”

“It’s nice,” I say automatically. “It’s a wonderful opportunity to be here.”

“Is it?” I can hear the laughter in his voice.

“Isn’t it?”

“I haven’t been anywhere else, so I couldn’t tell you.”

“The cafeteria is better,” I decide to say, after a moment’s pause. “Than my previous school.”

He hums and looks back into his notebook. After a few minutes he looks up at me again, “And the people? Are you liking it around here?”

I’m not sure if he genuinely wants to know, because it was rather obvious that I wasn’t the very social kind. Or perhaps he really doesn’t know, it’s not his business after all. So I tell him, “I’m a bit of a loner, actually.”

“Amongst this crowd who wouldn’t be.” I raised my eyes at this. Why would a boy like him be a loner, in this school? He had the wealth and the status that, as I had understood after the first four weeks here, would attract anybody into friendship.

I’d been so absorbed in myself and my desire to stay out of everybody’s way that I hadn’t really noticed anybody else. And when I actually cared to notice, I realised that he was being truthful. Armin didn’t appear to assimilate easily into the crowd of designer brand-wearing, father’s name-touting, genus of Academy students. Instead, he quite often disagreed with them, vocally, sometimes even resulting in skirmishes.

One day at lunch— we’d started having lunch together after Armin had shown up on the bench where I ate and said, “figured you wouldn’t mind if another loner joined you,” — he turned up with a swollen cheek and angry tears on his lashes. “Jesus, Armin.”

“Can you hold up my bangs?” He asks, sounding sulky. “It hurts when my hair keeps touching my cheek.”

I pull out a bobby pin from my own hair and stick it into his. “We should probably get some ice for you.”

“Already got it.” And he begins to press it onto his cheek, grumbling incoherently.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“If that’s your question, no, I do not want to tell you—”

“Just tell me what happened.”

He sighs. “It’s nothing new, Mikasa. Just…”

I take the ice from him and hold it against his cheek. “Some of the guys from the hockey team were asking if we’re dating.”

“Oh? That’s— well,” I blush slightly, but I’m not sure why. It’s definitely not because of any secret feelings. “I’m not really allowed to date, you know.”

Armin looks at me like I have two heads. “Well, parents aren’t really going to be out here saying hey, why don’t you go around smooching that other kid over there! Not when you’re fourteen, but kids do it anyway.” He cringes visibly. “Well maybe Ruth’s mother does, but you know what I mean.”

I look at him like I don’t know what he means. “Wait,” he says slowly. “What do you mean you’re not allowed to date?”

“I’m not,” I shrug. “My parents have a very clear no-boys policy while I’m in school. Or probably until marriage, but I haven’t really pressed the details to be honest.”

Armin is gaping at me. “And you have never wanted to…”

“We’re only fourteen,” I say somewhat defensively.

“Almost fifteen,” he corrects sharply, and then, blushing, he says “I-I’ve had crushes before.” He is hiding under his long blonde bangs, which I somehow thought was very cute.

“Really? What’s it like, then? Having a crush.”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that.” He looks somewhat mortified. As if the question I asked was not the logical follow-up to his admitting to having crushes on people.

“I suppose I could ask you who you have a crush on. If that’s what you want.”

“Mikasa, you’re weird,” he says, cheeks still giving away his embarrassment. At least he didn’t look upset anymore.

“So does that mean I won’t be getting any answers?” I tease him.

He takes a deep breath. “Okay. You promise not to judge me or anything?”

“Do you have a crush on a teacher or something?” I grin. I could see that with Armin. His naturally inquisitive nature and excellent grades made them quite fond of him. I’d even heard some of the other students grumbling about how he was a ‘teacher’s pet.’

“No! What?” he sputters, “I don’t think we should be making light of the power imbalance in that dynamic—”

“It’s a crush, Armin, not a relationship. Anyway, if not a teacher, then who is this mysterious crush of yours that you are so hesitant to tell me about?”

He huffs. “Ok but you have to swear not to tell anyone about it.”

I roll my eyes. “Pinky promise.”

“You know that guy in second year? Boris Feulner?”

I can vaguely recollect such a name on my mother’s list. “Mm-hmm.”

“We go to swimming lessons together. And I, um—” Armin is positively pink at this point. He is twisting the pink ends of his fingers, there is a pink flush along his neck, and his cheeks have also attained that colour; impressively, his entire body is pink. “Well, let’s just say that I have spent an ungodly amount of time imagining him in his swimsuit when I’m back in my room.”

I blink at him. And then I burst out laughing. “That’s your way of saying that you find him attractive?”

“It’s not funny.”

“No, I guess not,” I say, still laughing. “What’s to judge here? He’s one class higher than us, is he?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s the fact that, well, that he’s a he. That I find him attractive.” A stupid look crosses his face, and it’s Armin, so stupid looks seldom cross his face.

“That’s quite last decade of you to be embarrassed about something like that,” I say thoughtlessly. “Isn’t it legal now to be with whoever you want?”

“My sexuality is not about keeping with the times, Mikasa,” he snaps. Ok, I guess I deserved that.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, “I didn’t mean it like that, Armin.”

He waves me off impatiently. “Anyway, in case you hadn’t noticed, what is legal isn’t always what is accepted. Here,” he makes a circle to denote this school, “amongst this world, everyone plays by a specific set of rules. What you study, who you date, who you marry, it’s all scripted. Sons take over their father’s businesses, whether it falls into legal or illegal lines, and women frame their fancy diplomas and stand by their husbands at galas and make polite talk, and when it’s time, they pop out a baby or two to do their ‘duty.’”

I listen to him, stunned. “What do you mean… They don’t go to work, after all this?” By all this what I meant, was the ridiculous amount of tuition that was being spent on a school like this. Followed by, no doubt, even more expensive tuition for a college degree they would never use.

“They don’t need to.” Armin’s voice drops to a hushed murmur. “Half of the kids here belong to Mafia families, the other half mostly politics or business. All of them, every last one, is corrupt.”

“B-but I thought—”

“Everyone’s got legitimate businesses to cover up anything shady, so no, nobody is going to introduce themselves as the daughter of an Underground Family.”

He gives me a pitying look, probably at the cluelessness that I can’t hide. “Sheesh, you don’t know anything, do you? Where are you even from?”

“I told you already,” I say, somewhat irritated, “... we live close to the Oriental Quarter. My Father just owns a restaurant, I know that there’s,” I gesture vaguely, “some sort of mafia, but I don’t really know much more than that. I can’t really tell the difference between the Mafia and the police anyway.”

“And that’s the real problem with our society,” he mutters angrily. His blue eyes return to mine. “I know that’s what you said, but I thought… Usually, everybody has more of a story here.”

“No story here,” I say blandly, “Just the daughter of a restaurant owner.” Who is apparently clueless and kept deliberately misinformed.

It’s not that I didn’t know about the Mafia. In Sina, it’s something you grow up with. You have the government, you have the police, and you have the Mafia, or the Underground, as it’s called here. The truth is, there’s no way to ignore it. When I was old enough to be at the restaurant to help with small chores and odd jobs, my parents drilled it into me: Keep your head down, be polite, give them what they want, and get on with your day. I’d seen Mother and Father do it too, to ‘important customers,’ treating them like God as soon as they stepped into our small joint. Handing envelopes of cash to men with guns hanging off their low-slung jeans, and unruly hair.that Money that my parents spent their blood, sweat and tears on. That’s who I thought of when I heard ‘Mafia.’

When I was younger I almost asked them why they gave away their own hard-earned money to somebody else when it was them who worked for it. Don’t we own the restaurant, Papa? I almost asked him once. But something held me back. Much later, after eavesdropping on an argument between my parents, I learnt that it was “protection.” That these men— who I’d grown to believe were so important— were just enforcers who collected payments from us in turn for their ‘protection’, a heavily jargoned word that people would often mistake for defence against an outsider, but what it really was, was a bribe. A fee extorted from people who had no other choice. I guess I’d always known that the Mafia was a bigger thing, something I couldn’t even comprehend, invisible but everywhere.

What I had never imagined was that they would exist in a world like this: Shiny and filthy rich, dressing their children in the most expensive linens, while they were up to their arms in blood. Milling companies, Breweries, Textile manufacturers, I saw literally everything on that list and didn’t suspect once that they had anything to do with the Underground. And now they were all around me.

“You’re shaking,” Armin says, softly. “Mikasa, are you okay?”

I nod, and try to say something, but I can’t find the words. Something has happened to me. I feel choked, my heartbeat has begun to pulse rapidly. My hands are balled into fists on my skirt. “I just—” I suddenly remember the time I’d seen my father with a gun to his temple, his voice shaking as he asked me to leave the room. I remember that when he came home that night, my mother was crying and we ate little more than leftovers that entire week because “business was not that good”. “I—” I remember the time I went to fetch onions from the store because we ran out. When I came back one of the men had his hand on my Mother’s behind as he ordered food and my mother was frozen still. “I hate them,” I manage finally, and my voice is raspy and unlike myself. There are little crescent moons in my palm from where I have dug my fingernails into them. “I hate them,” I say even louder, this time more frantic, “I hate them so much–”

“Mikasa!” Armin’s hand is heavy on my shoulder and he looks at me alarmed, baby-blue eyes filled with concern. That’s when I realise I was almost screaming. “I know.” He squeezes my hand. “I know. I hate them too.”

It’s been so long since I’ve felt this feeling. Every now and then I feel it, this shaking, violent, urge that spills out of my throat and into a bottle inside of my heart, every time topping up and up and up until now, when the lid shakes and it threatens to spill over. “I feel angry too,” Armin is saying. I don’t hear him fully because the violence inside of me is loud. “It isn’t right. None of this is right.”

Angry? Somehow that word doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like it’s enough to contain everything that this feeling really is.

Eventually my vision refocused, and my breathing calmed. Armin was still watching me carefully, his cheek swollen and his lips bitten. “Anyway,” he said tentatively, after he had given me enough time to be in my own head. “Do you want to know the rest of what happened with the hockey boys?”

“Sorry,” I say, distractedly, “... We veered off.”

He waves me off again. “I told them we weren’t dating. They didn’t believe me at first. But then one of them said,” he puffs his shoulders up and deepens his voice comically, “She doesn’t date faggots, probably.”

“Armin,” I gasp, shocked.

“It’s fine, he’s not wrong.” He shuts up my sputtering buts, and grins, looking mighty pleased with himself. “I told him you didn’t date braindead morons like him either.”

I groan. “And that’s why you got socked?”

He shrugs. “Well was I wrong?”

…

Two months into our second year in high school, our class teacher announced that a new student would be joining us. By this time, Armin and I had grown comfortable enough to pick our seats side by side. This school was well funded so we had nice seats, with a little cushion on the chair, and a large enough desk to spread out your things comfortably. There was little space between us, so a mid-volume whisper was sufficient to communicate during class, most times.

Armin looked disinterested, but I was curious about this new student. It was somebody outside of my list, after all. A few minutes after being told by Miss Langnar to welcome the new kid and help him cover up anything he might have missed, the ‘kid’ in question walked in. It was probably strange to refer to another student, at my grand old age of fifteen, as a ‘kid,’ but it seemed to suit him. He was tall, with dark brown hair that didn’t sit very neatly atop his head, and large green eyes that seemed like a mirror to his soul. Perhaps it was quite a dramatic thing to say about somebody whose name I didn’t even know, but I felt certain of it. For example, I could see now that he was angry. He wasn’t happy to be here, and it shone in the brilliance of his verdant eyes, making even a thing like anger appear to be beautiful. I wondered what it must be like to live in that way, to be so honest whether you wanted to be or not.

I felt a sting of envy at that moment, just as my Mother’s words resounded in my head. “Save your anger, Mikasa,” she’d tell me, after whatever punishment she was ‘forced’ to give me— she was always forced to punish me, you see, she didn’t have a choice, it was the only way I would learn my lesson— “it makes you look ugly.”

“Eren Jaeger,” he says, his voice clipped, not offering anything more as an introduction.

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell your classmates about yourself, Eren?” Miss Langnar prompted kindly, after the awkward moment of silence.

“Nope. Not really.”

She looked taken aback, not having expected that response. “Well, why don’t you take a seat next to Mikasa?” She pointed towards the empty desk to my right. “I’m sure she’ll be willing to show you all the important resources in the school and help you catch up.”

Eren Jaeger looked at me then, his large green eyes came to rest on mine. My breath hitched ever so slightly, and I tugged on my lower lip with my teeth. “Sure, Miss Langnar,” I said, sounding somewhat different than usual.

He watched me as he walked to his desk, as he slid into his seat. And then, unexpectedly, he gave me a small smile. “Hey,” he said. His eyes were still stormy, a deep annoyance swirling within them, but his gesture let me know that it had nothing to do with me. My teeth dug further into my lower lip, any more and it would have bled. Forcing it loose, I replied, “Hi.”

He craned his neck and looked past me, and then said, “Armin.”

Armin lifted a hand and gave him a small smile.

I looked at Armin, my eyebrows arched. You know him?

Armin wasn’t telepathic of course so I don’t know if he understood my unspoken question, but he just shrugged at me and turned his attention to what the teacher was saying.

I watched Eren out of the corner of my eye. He sat back in his seat in a sort of slouch. It instinctively made me sit up a little bit straighter; I would have been beaten at home if I ever displayed that sort of posture. Miss Langnar has begun her lesson and Eren looked straight at her, but I can tell it was that sort of vacant look where he was looking but not really seeing. Primarily because she asked us to take out our textbooks and turn to page 53, and Eren hadn’t moved a muscle.

“I can share with you, if you like,” I whisper, hoping it was loud enough and that I wouldn’t have to repeat myself because, surprisingly, these words had taken considerable effort.

He blinks at me, somewhat lost, and then looks at my textbook, which I have pushed towards him. “Oh,” he said. And then he pushed his seat closer to mine, making his desk incongruent from the rest of the line of desks, the noise attracting glances from everybody else. I can feel my cheeks heat up. “Thanks.”

I nod, feeling inexplicably shy, for no apparent reason, pushing my book further towards him until it was half on his desk and half on mine. When Miss Langnar is done with what is on this page and it is time to turn the page, my hand brushes his. I jerked my hand back, feeling an electric tingle on the tips of my fingertips. My heart felt as if it was in my mouth. Eren looked at me strangely. “Sorry,” he said, sounding more confused than sorry.

I sank back into my seat feeling a bit foolish. I wasn’t sure why I was behaving this way, and I was even less sure of why I felt this way. Whatever it was that I was feeling, that is.

A small folded piece of paper falls into my lap. Are you okay? It reads. I turn around to give Armin a reassuring smile, but when he saw me, his blue eyes twinkled with humour, and his mouth curved into a smirk.

He throws another wad of paper at me. You’re blushing.

I am not. I write back. But as I write it, I can feel my cheeks grow warmer with embarrassment. What was going on with me?

“Armin,” Miss Langnar called. For a second I worried that she had caught on to our secret messaging system, but it turns out she just called him to hand out worksheets, as she always does, always preferring Armin to do these types of things.

He still has that smirk on his face when he hands us our worksheets, and for some reason, I feel even more embarrassed now, in front of Eren.

Later, after two more classes of me sharing my textbooks with Eren, our hands touching inadvertently, and me getting slowly better with my reactions, I slip Armin another note.

The new boy is pretty, don’t you think?

I watched Armin as he opened it, feeling unbearably hot in anticipation that he was about to read those words. I wished I could reach out and take it back from him. But I already felt like enough of a fool today. He almost bursts out laughing when he reads it and I want to bury myself in the ground.

I glance at Eren, and he looks utterly bored— and I thought to myself that this person next to me could even make boredom look pretty. Like it was more of a meaningful thing, as if this plane, and all of us mortals who roamed it, weren’t interesting enough to keep his attention.

Another paper falls in my lap. Mikasa, do you have a CRUSH?? On Eren Jaeger??

I crumple the paper as quickly as I can, casting a furtive glance at my neighbour, who thankfully, seemed blissfully unaware.

Ignoring what Armin said, I wrote back, He is pretty, though. Don’t you agree?

Armin rolled his eyes. FINE. Sure. But I can’t believe The great Mikasa Ackerman finally has a crush on somebody!!!!

Despite my embarrassment, I felt a small smile creep onto my face. I folded the paper neatly and put it in my skirt pocket. So that’s what this, I thought to myself. A crush.

#eremika #anonymous conversations #mafia au #deleted scene

10 notes · View notes

2018shawn · 5 years ago

Text

the anatomy of you and i | s.m

Hi I was wondering if could do prompt cozy 3 and 12 with Shawn and inexperienced!y/n she’s never shared a bed with a boy before or something only if ur comfortable u don’t have to of course just thought it would be soft and sweet 🙈❤️

cozy prompt 3: “Don’t be nervous, you can come closer”

cozy prompt 12: We could... take a nap together?

a/n: so it came out like college!shawn x college!reader au bc that’s just kinda what flowed so i hope that’s ok and i also really kinda wanna do a part 2 to this because it turned out more of a fic than a blurb lmao 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 also pt 2 i’m sorry the layout of this is gross i’m on my phone and can’t figure out how to do anything ok bye

warnings: just swearing and i think that might be it

the music from the room next to yours was something you imagined only happened in movies. it was loud and bassy and everything you didn’t want on a wednesday evening; you knew part of living in dorms would entail disturbances and inconveniences, but a party? on a wednesday night? you picked up your tote bag full of reading and text books after throwing your trusty vans jumper over your head, all ready and prepared to head down to the 24/7 library on campus.

if you thought the music was loud in your room, you could think again, because in the hallway, not only could you hear the echos from the speakers, you could hear the shrill screams and yells from the party goers. the further away you got from your neighbouring apartment, the (thankfully) quieter it got and your short trip to the library was soon complete, the dull street lamps and soft breeze in the trees accompanying you along the way.

just as you thought, the library was empty, nothing but the sound of the door clicking shut behind you filling the room. a relieved sigh left your lips as you tugged your bag close to your body, as if the room was full of robbers who were about to mug you for your oh so precious books. opting for a more relaxed approach, seeing as it was 10.45pm, you headed to the sofa area, half thinking it would be a great place to take a nap.

instead, the anatomy of the heart was more important and your assignment was due in within a matter of days. you grabbed one handle of your bag, stretching it away from your body so you could pull out your book of choice before coming around to the front of the sofas so you could finally relax and take your time and- oh. you weren’t the only one here.

even though he was sprawled across the sofa, you could tell he was tall, really tall. the cap, embroidered with the college logo, covered his hair, but from the few stray strands, you could see wild, chocolatly curls falling loose. his eyes were shut, almost peacefully, arms crossed across his chest and very, very quietly, you could hear the soft sound of music coming from his headphones. his eyes flickered open, feeling a presence above him, and he laughed at you when you freaked out, realising you were staring at him. creepy or not, he thought you were cute; the way your finger twirled the front sections of your hair, the way your hip popped to the side as you watched over his resting frame, the way your eyes pulled into a squint as if it was the most bizzare thing to see another person in the library. the very public library.

you muttered a very embarrassed i’m sorry, before turning to walk away from the chilled area of the building. he pulled out his headphones, the sound of the 1975 becoming much more prominent, and propped himself up on his forearms. “hey, no...” he spoke, “come sit.”

scoffing, you rolled your eyes as you thought to yourself, as if you was going to let a random (but incredibly handsome) boy tell you what to do. as if you was going to actually listen and do as he said. as if- who are we kidding; your feet brought you back to the sofas, perching awkwardly on the end of the seat opposite his. he smiled, not smugly, not suggestively, not even cockily, but just a pure, genuine smile. “sorry i didn’t realise people actually like...”

“used the library?” you raised an eyebrow and he threw his head back in laughter, forearms still supporting his body which only made his t shirt strain against his chest. you recognised him from around campus, and you thought he was one of the music kids, one of the ones that did open mic nights and played guitar on the beach until 1am, but from the judgment of his toned physice, you thought maybe he played a spot of sport on the side, just for fun. not like the serious jocks who lived, breathed and worshiped football. he was definitely friends with your roommates boyfriend too, or friends with one of his friends, or- something like that, there’s a lot of people at college.

“yeah, well, no. but at this hour? why don’t you just read in bed?”

you sank back into the cushions, bringing up your legs and crossing them infront of you, looking like a little buddha wearing a vans hoodie and comfy leggings. “why don’t you just lay down in bed?”

this time, when he smiled, he smirked. “touché.”

he popped his headphone back in his ear, and the music died down again as he let his head fall back to the sofa, eyes closing shut. you wondered what had happened to bring him here, why the somewhat popular boy was cooped up in the library at this hour with clearly no intent of using the facilities. he thought the same about you. you felt awkward at first, pulling out your reading and note books, turning to the pages you had marked and setting them down around you. unbeknown to you, he cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes opening into thin slits as he watched you. he’d seen you around, even told one of your friends that he thought you were cute, but you were from different stretches of the college and really, he was nothing but the friend of a friend of a friend of a friend. he wanted to tuck the fallen piece of hair behind your ear and help you lean onto him as he noticed how you struggled to manage holding two books at once and tell you not to grind your pen in between your teeth as you thought about your work and- “can i help you?”

busted.

“sorry, i just... what you reading?” he asked, even though he could quite clearly see the front cover of the book, which read a bold title of the essentials of human anatomy and physiology. and even though you held the front cover up further, showing him more of what he could already see, you confirmed it with words.

“i got an assignment on the heart, so, yeah...” you shrugged, peeling off a post it note marker and sticking it to a relevant paragraph in the book.

“can i see?” he didn’t know why he was asking, he just knew he wanted to be closer to you. he genuinely was interested in what you were learning, and although you’d only spoken a handful of words to each other, he thought the way you spoke and tone of voice was the nicest he’d ever heard. nicer than any voices he’d heard during his classes and he studies with people who sing all day. he pushed himself up, body resting into the corner of the sofa, leaving an empty space on the pad next to him. you took that as an invitiation, not entirely sure where your sudden confidence and welcoming of strangers had come from. “what are you studying?”

“human evolutionary biology and biological science.” it rolled from off your tongue like you said it every living minute as you rested down on the sofa next to him. “you?” even though you were 95% sure you already knew, you didn’t want to let on.

his answer was much simpler, and in all honesty, he felt like a fool. “music.”

“that sounds fun.” you nodded with a smile. he reached over for your book, fingers running down the edges as he looked over the words which looked like a completely different language. your body was tense, and the closer he got, the more you could feel your heart beating, which just felt highly ironic.

“these words...” he laughed, mentally kicking himself for sounding like a dumbass who literally just knew how to strum a few chords. “chor... da? tend.. in.. ee?” you giggled innocently at his attempt, but he found it in no was patronising or belittling. in fact, he thought it was cute.

“chordae tendineae.” you confirmed, looking up and directly into his eyes for the first time. you were instantly lost in the hazel pools that looks slightly lighter when certain flashes of light fell across his skin. “heart strings, to you and i.”

you went on to explain that heart strings were in fact not just an expression that people used when they felt some sort of emotion, that you could actually physically hold a heart by their - chordae tendineae - strings and they wouldn’t break because they’re so tough. you told him it would take a lot of strength and pain to actually break one. he admired how passionate you were about the subject, reeling off facts as if you could tell them in your sleep. “sorry, i get carried away.”

your cheeks blushed a deep shade of pink and you did that hair, twirly thing you did when you felt nervous. “don’t apologise, it’s nice.” he restored your faith that not all pretty boys were assholes, and maybe it was just your poor judgment in the past that had led you to ever think that. as you stared down at your book, he stared at you, wondering if he was being overly friendly or super creepy or just a total inconvenience to your evening. you thought he was neither of those, but simply a nice addition.

“so, what brings you here at...” you looked at your watch for time reference, eyes widening as you realised you been sat boring him for the past 20 minutes... about heart strings. “11.30 on a wednesday night.”

he shrugged, leaning back and falling into the cushions, hoping a more relaxed body language would help you to relax a little more too. he could tell you were just perched on the edge of the sofa for fear of touching him. “sick of my room mate fucking his girlfriend like a porn star, dont know how he’s got it in him.” your lips formed an open ‘o’ shape, not expecting the sudden change in tone or language. “told him i was going out, he said he’ll be done by 11.30.”

“and they said chivalry is dead.” you dryly commented, only to make his eyes crinkle up as he laughed. “do you have a rota for that kinda thing or is it just a come and go as you please kinda rotation?”

“well, my rota’s severely empty.” you were shocked, and thought maybe he was just saying it because he might be a total fuck boy. you could imagine he had girls falling at his feet, and you wouldn’t blame them, because those eyes. “what about you?” you furrowed your eyebrows at him and tilted your head. “no... i mean... the why are you here part... not the sex rota part...” he pulled his cap further over his forehead, wanting to bury himself in a pit of embarrassment. if you didn’t think he was a creep before, you most probably did now, he was sure of that.

to say you were, inexperienced, would be total honesty. you’d slept with one guy and one guy only, and he was someone who thought having sex on the foot of the bed was adventurous, and you vowed never to distract yourself from your studies with boys who would waste your time. it was also just a couple of hook ups, nothing serious, in fact, you’d never even shared a bed with him overnight- and you laughed at yourself for ever being the naive girl that thought he wasn’t just using you to get laid. “there’s a party next door, they usually go on until the early hours, so whether i’m here or there, i still get no sleep.” you confirmed, and he nodded, half wishing you were going to tell him your rota was also empty. not because he wanted to pounce on you and take advantage, but because the hopeless romantic inside of him thought maybe there’d be a pathway to something special. “also, it’s 11.30, so your probably safe to head back.”

he thought maybe he was an inconvenience to your evening, that you said that because you wanted him to leave you in peace so you could crack on with what you’d set out to do. shoot your shot, shawn, he thought to himself, pulling his bottom lip inbetween his teeth and you had to force your eyes away from him because you suddenly felt all warm and bothered. “you wanna come?”

“huh?” your head snapped up, book also falling from your grip and you fumbled to stop it from landing on the floor. it was an expensive book, and you weren’t about to let some cute ass boy ruin your pages.

“not like... i mean... if you want somewhere to stay. i can take the sofa.” in the 8 months you’d been at this college, not one boy had offered you an invitation back to his dorm. mainly because you hid from any form of human contact and spent most of your time cooped up in your own room with no intention of leaving.

something in you switched, when you looked back to him to see he’d taken his cap and flipped it backwards, the peak of the hat now dipping behind the back of his neck. more light hit his features, and you felt like jelly, realising just how incredibly perfect he was. even the little scar on his cheek was kissable and you don’t know where this new confident you had appeared from this evening. you leant closer, placing your book down - carefully, of course - on the sofa, letting your hands rest on his thighs and you thought you felt him tense up, but you were probably just imagining it. “only if we can stop for hot chocolate.”

“i think we have some.”

“whipped cream?”

“is that for the hot chocolate or for me?”

although he was joking, he didn’t know if what he had said had sent a wrong message, because on the walk back to his dorm, you went back to being your quiet little self, answering questions briefly and turning the questions around onto him more often than not.

you didn’t think he had sent a wrong message, but you were well and truely helpless at flirting and maybe he wasn’t even flirting with you and you was completely overthinking it, but nevertheless, it made your stomach tighten and breaths deepen. whether it was an accident or not, your hands brushed against each other’s several times on the walk back, and it was one of those cliche, awkward moments where you both look at each other and laugh awkwardly like little kids. both of you also introduced yourself, coming to the realisation that no names had been exchanged but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t already know yours because he definitely searched for you came across you on facebook. “are you sure you’re okay? i can stay with you in the library if you prefer?” he asked, although you were both nearly at his door.

“you think i’m walking all the way back over there? nuh-uh, plus, you promised hot chocolate.” he smiled and nodded, “unless... you don’t want me, and then i totally can leave you alone.”

“no i do want you.” he spoke so quick he thought he must’ve sounded so desperate. “do want you to be here, i mean, like, if you’re cool.”

you nodded, feeling somewhat... wanted? by a cute boy? who treat you like a lady and offered you his jacket even though you had your own? who literally peeled your bag from your shoulder, just so he could carry it for you? and made you walk the side of the sidewalk furthest away from the road? and took a genuine instrest in what you said?

you’d be damned if you didn’t wake up and it was all a dream. this was by far the most college-ey thing you’d ever done; meeting a random guy in a random location and deciding to risk your life by going back to his place. maybe risking your life was a bit dramatic but we’ve all seen what happens in horror movies.

when you both reached his door, he unlocked it with the key and swung it open, holding out his arm as invitation for you to go first. of course, you thought, just be even more of a gent. inside the room, it was very similar layout to yours - you walked straight into the living/kitchen area and three doors were spread across the two back walls, one of which you guessed to be the bathroom and the other two to be bedrooms. the room was dull, the television being the only thing to illuminate the area and shawn sighed with relief when he saw his roommate and his girlfriend chilled on the sofa. “well, looks like we’re safe from the porn.” he whispered to you, throwing his keys on the table next to the door.

when his roommate’s girlfriend heard shawn speaking, she shot up and peered over the back of the sofa. her eyes flickered between you and shawn, before she poked at her boyfriends arm to get his attention. “brian...” he ignored her at first, popping another piece of popcorn in his mouth. “brian. shawn has a girl here.”

“girl can hear you. and so can shawn.” shawn said, rolling his eyes as brian also shot up, smirking as the four of you all entered a staring competition.

was it such a big thing he had a girl here? because you didn’t think it would be so much of a huge deal. have you seen him? perfect college boy with incredible muscles (from what you’d seen in your imaginatation), and here you were, stunning the members of the household into silence. “hi, uh, i’m y/n?” you almost sounded like you were questioning yourself, unsure whether you were meant to say anything or not.

the girl got up from the sofa, offering you some popcorn as a peace offering before she finally spoke to you, instead of about you. “so sorry, shawn just, never brings girls here because - ow!” shawn lightly jabbed her on the arm, taking the full bag of popcorn for himself and grabbing a handful. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m winnie. and brian...” she pointed at the boy still sat on the sofa who was too busy sending brain signals and eye expressions, about the random girl in their apartment, to shawn to notice he was being introduced. “brian was actually just talking about getting a mcdonald’s so, we can go do that and you can do... your thing.”

“nothing like that,” shawn was quick to jump in and although you weren’t necessarily here for a quick fuck or a one night stand, you felt slightly disappointed.

“oh? okay, well, let us know.” she smiled and snatched her popcorn back from shawn. “i know shawn doesn’t take long.” she laughed, clearly joking about the situation which only made shawn feel like he was dealing with bringing a girl home to his parents for the first time. before thinking about it, shawn grabbed your hand and dragged you towards one of the back rooms, presumably his bedroom.

you figured it must be when the door opened and you saw three guitars perched against the wall, an unmade bed, a laptop open on the desk and a bunch of photos on the wall of him with numerous other people. “make yourself comfortable, i’ll be back in a second.” he smiled and vanished back out of the room.

taking the time to be a bit nosy, you let’s yourself study the photos on the wall. a shorter, younger girl appeared in a fair few, along with two older adults who would appear to be his family and it made you smile at the fact he wasn’t afraid to have them on display. you felt a light twinge in your heart as you looked at a picture in which a girl was kissing his cheek, even though you had no right to feel any form of jealousy. moving on, you found the notebooks on his desk that was already opened up on a page which sent your notebook organisation through the roof. the page was full of messy scribbles, more than half of the words had been crossed out aggressively and replaced with new words. it was quiet, only the sound of quiet mutters could be heard from the other side of the door and you tried you’re best to listen in to what they were saying.

dude, she’s hot

you’ve never made any other chick hot chocolate

go back in that room and get some

at least try

you tried to look like you weren’t eavesdropping when he came back into the room, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, and just as you’d requested, with whipped cream. shawn thanked brian and winnie and their weird ass sex kinks for that. “thank you.” you smiled, taking it from him and wrapping your small hands around the mug to be met with warmth.

“i’m, uh, sorry about them..” he said, setting his own drink down on the bedside table.

“don’t be. they seem nice.”

“so, if you wanna go to sleep i can leave you be and like i said, i can take the couch and you can have the bed.”

“we could both have the bed?” you’d said, before even having time to think about letting the words fall from your mouth. his eyes almost looked like they’d lit up and you blew into your hot chocolate just so you had something to do instead of awkwardly staring back at him. “if you want, i mean, i can go home, i’m sure the party will die down soon.”

“stop doing that.” he rolled his eyes, leaning back against his headboard as you sat cross legged at the edge of his bed, surrounded by the navy duvet.

“doing what?”

“doubting yourself.”

“well i’m good at it.” he laughed at you, reaching his hands out and taking your hot chocolate mug from your grasp.

“i wanna know more about that heart shit.” he admitted, missing how you passionately spoke about something you were so interested in.

“heart shit... you mean the thing that keeps you alive? maybe tomorrow, i’m all organed out.” he looked a little disappointed and you thought maybe he was thinking you’re suggesting you don’t wanna stay up with him. he was wrong. “although, modern family is back on netflix now and that is something i will never turn down.”

he grabbed his laptop from his desk, setting it next to you at the edge of the bed. you adjusted yourself, moving more to the middle of the mattress, therefore, slightly closer to shawn. you could smell his cologne, just like you could when you sat close to him in the library.

smiling at how you twirled your hair, bit your lip when you concentrated on what people were saying, covered your mouth with the sleeve of your sweater when you started to yawn, he thought; it was weird, how he just had this feeling that he wanted to spend countless nights with you, learning about whatever organ you needed to. and you thought too; how you felt more comfortable around him than any other person you’d met at college thus far.

still sat upright, cross legged in the middle of his bed, your back started to ache and legs started to feel numb as the second episode started. you stretched out as much as you could before looking behind you and eyeing up the empty space next to shawn. “i was wondering how long before you couldn’t sit like a buddha anymore.” he laughed, speaking over the familiar theme tune coming from the laptop. “please get comfy, you look in pain.”

“i am not in pain, i am simply just... respecting personal space.” in all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time you cuddled up to a boy. the last guy used to literally leave as soon as he’d done what he needed to do, leaving you empty and alone every night. “and you might not want me, all up in your space.”

“oh my god, just stop!” he laughed, despite his demanding tone.

“stop what?!”

“doubting yourself... again!”

you huffed, uncrossing your legs and crawling up to where shawn was sat. he smirked as you got closer, settling down next to him, your back also against the headboard. your legs were outstretched, finally free from their crossed positioning, and your hands fell to your lap. another ten minutes of the episode went by when you get yourself getting tireder, head leaning to one side a little more.

shawn noticed how your body was a little more relaxed, less rigid than when you first joined him at the head of the bed. risking his move, he stretched his arm behind you, draping it over your shoulder which caused any relaxed part of your body to stiffen back up. “don’t be nervous, you can come closer.”

you looked up to him, shooting him a warm smile. it didn’t take long for your body to relax again, and it actually felt nice how natural it felt to be curled into his body. his fingers traced patterns on your shoulder as your head moved in time with his chest, a loud yawn escaping your mouth. “tired?”

“mhmm,” you answered, evidently too tired to even speak an official word.

“we could... take a nap together?” he stuttered.

“a nap? shawn it’s like 12.30am, we need a full ass sleep.” you giggled, leaning up off him to pull your sweater over your head.

“then a full ass sleep we shall have.” he sorted the set up out, turning off the laptop and placing it back on the desk. he took out a t shirt and shorts from his drawers, putting them on the edge of the bed before retrieving and additional pair of shorts. he told you he was going to change in the bathroom, and to put his clothes on, only if you wanted, before disappearing out. you took advantage of the empty room, immediately peeling off your own clothes and replacing them with his. they smelt like him, like citrus and cassis and as you climbed back into the bed, where you were previously sat, a light tap on the door sounded.

“yup,” you said, popping the last letter as he shot his head around the door, smiling when he saw you’d taken up his offer of borrowing his clothes. he says borrow, but he’d be more than happy for you to keep them, because you looked a hell of a lot better in them than he did.

he’d lost his t shirt, not that you were going to complain - and yes, he did have muscles exactly how you’d imagined him to - and the sweat shorts he’d changed into hung low from his hips and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen a sight like it. shawn wasn’t the type of boy to feel embarrassed or nervous; hell, he’d managed to shit talk his way into getting you to come back to his dorm, just in a bid to keep hold of your company because he’s never felt a feeling like it. shawn’s clothes were the first you’d ever borrowed from a guy, never having the experience of the morning after or spending a long night with someone you really like, staying up all night and talking about nothing in particular. it was also a first that you’d let yourself be conned into coming back to a guys dorm.

“you sure you don’t want me to take the sofa?” he asked as he stood at the side of his bed, unintentionally towering over you, almost making you feel as big as ladybug.

“stop doing that.” you raised your eyebrows, pushing back the duvet so there was an empty space next to you.

his face showed pure confusion, having no idea what he’d done. “doing what?”

“doubting yourself.” you mocked his voice the best you could, dropping a few pitches and moving your head theatrically.

he rolled his eyes, plopping down into the empty space next to you, and although his clothes smelt like him on your body, he could still smell the orchid and vanilla scent that covered your skin. “i don’t sound like that.”

rolling onto his side, he turned to face you, slightly closer for comfort than he would normally like to be, but with you, he didn’t think he was close enough. you were on your back, eyes tracing the outline of the shadows on the ceiling that crept through from the blinds. “you kinda do.”

“oh... as opposed to, the deoxygenated blood travels into the left ventricle-” he’d put on his best higher pitched voice.

“right atrium.”

“-and opens those little valvey things-”

“just valves is fine.” you rolled onto your side to face him, but he was too busy mocking you to notice.

“-which make your heart do the ba-dum thing that i’ve been able to feel in my fucking throat all night-”

“you mean the heartbeat?”

“-all because you’ve been pulling on my chordane tendineae because you’re just too fucking amazing.” you swolled hard, and suddenly it was you who could feel the ba-dum thing in your throat. he was just looking at you, now aware you were face to face with him, only inches apart in his queen sized bed. he had just tried to twist your words in a confession of admiration, but couldn’t help but think he’d just sounded dumb instead. “no smart ass comment?”

normally you’d be offended at someone calling your comments smart ass, because they were in fact just the truth, but you knew shawn was messing, although, maybe not about the heartbeat part. you’d found yourself being drawn in, faces getting closer together with each breath, so much so you almost didn’t notice how his hand was stroking over the skin of your hip. he was searching your face for an invitation, he wanted to kiss you so bad, but at the same time, didn’t want to scare you off. the air was thick, and you were sure you could hear your heartbeat, but shawn was convinced it was his. his breath fanned against your lips, creating a cool minty sensation, and as your eyashes fluttered, your eyes looked straight into his. “kiss me.”

shawn taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @mendesficsxbombay @fallinfortom

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut

194 notes · View notes

katierosefun · 4 years ago

Note

Go Back Couple made me cry it was so sweet and wholesome ;-;;; and it was really clever too! And I thought it said a lot about people it really made me think about how we really see only one or two sides of someone else in a relationship. I saw Hospital Playlist at the start of quarantine and I spent the whole time just being “I miss my friends!!” bc it has such beautiful friendships and platonic relationships (and cute romances too)

Also if you have more recs please share bc once this quarter finishes I really want to watch more dramas I’m collecting recs ^^

ooooh, i just read the plot of go back couple and i’m so curious, and i’ve added it to my to watch lost! and yessss, i’ve been meaning to watch hospital playlist! i think i watched the first 10 minutes of the first episode, but i never got around to continuing, but i most certainly will resume my watch once finals finish for me too :’))

oh yes, but as for more recs...well, there’s this list that i compiled a few months back, but since then, i’ve been thinking of other kdramas i’ve watched and liked, so...below the cut!

1. penthouse (1 & 2, renewed for a season 3, which will be coming in june!)

where to watch: viki (although with some kind of plus plan, but if you don’t have plus,,,here’s a place where you could theoretically watch)

favorite track on the ost: idk, i haven’t really been paying attention to the ost because like...this kdrama is also so incredibly focused on opera / classical music, and it’s actually introduced me to a lot of wonderful pieces, one of my faves being mozart’s die zauberflote.

listen: it usually takes me a hysterically long time to get through a new kdrama, but i was so invested that i got through the first season (complete with 21 episodes!)n within like,,,two or three weeks, and i have about 3 episodes left of the second season (which has 13 episodes!). this kdrama is just that good. it’s basically about these families living at this super fancy apartment complex called hera palace (which is fitting...hera, the queen of the gods, also the goddess of maternity...). honestly, there’s so much going on in this kdrama that it’s kind of hard to explain everything that happens, but essentially, the show opens up with the murder of a young orphan girl and works backwards from there. we learn about each of the families’ secrets, ambitions, and some really shocking twists and turns along the way.

honestly, i’m surprised by how much i love this kdrama. there aren’t a whole ton of likable characters--literally almost every character is deeply flawed and obvious about it, but honestly, the complexity and layers built into each character is worth it. we really see how environments shape people, especially with each of the family’s children. we see all these moralities clash with each other, and we see how greed and ambition can muddy those waters, even amongst the children. i’ve been super enjoying season 2 especially, because we’re learning even more, not to mention that i’ve been so surprised by the level of character development going on here. i won’t spoil anything, but like...it’s wonderful and impressive, and i cannot believe this kdrama has me actually rooting for certain characters. also, on another note: this kdrama does a lot with addressing exactly how far a parent would go for their kid--and it’s bonkers and wonderful. honestly...an addictive kdrama, full of suspense and drama and with deeply complex characters.

a fair warning: this kdrama is rated r, although i’m learning that rated r in south korea would probably pass off as pg-13 in the us--there’s more explicit scenes of violence, really harsh bullying, murder (of course), and implied sex scenes (nothing ever shown, very much a “camera pulls away” situation).

2. pinocchio

where to watch: viki

favorite track to the ost: pinocchio by roy kim

okay, this kdrama is...just really sweet, and again: i liked it a lot more than i thought i would? it’s a little older, like it started airing in 2014--but i just...really liked it. it’s about these two people from separate families (but they grow up together under the same roof, it’s a whole complicated thing), and both of them become reporters. the only issue is that one of the characters has pinocchio syndrome, which is basically that she can’t tell a lie without hiccupping. you’d think this makes for a goofy drama because of that, but this kdrama def. has a lot of heavyhanded/serious moments. it’s so weird to think this kdrama aired in 2014, just because i think a lot of the themes--all of them about truth and what counts as the truth especially in journalism--feel still so relevant today.

this kdrama also has a lot to say about generational trauma/the burdens we inherit from our parents and our older siblings, and it also has a lot of stuff about taking responsibility for the sins of our parents, etc. it’s so wonderfully and beautifully done, and i’m honestly...again, surprised by just how deeply they ran with this concept. the romance is also cute, although i’ll def. admit there’s some stuff that still makes me “???” but overall, i really enjoyed the actors’ chemistry with each other, and i was still satisfied with the ending!

3. fight for my way

where to watch: viki

favorite track on the ost: i don’t think this kdrama has too much of an ost? and i don’t think i was paying attention to the ost in this kdrama either, oops

i’m still watching this kdrama / have i think 5 episodes left of this kdrama, but i’ve been really enjoying it so far! it’s following the story of these four twentysomethings, and they all have these big dreams for themselves. unfortunately, they’re also twentysomethings, and achieving their dreams is...kind of hard. honestly, this kdrama is just so wholesome, and it has its serious moments, but i really love it. the friendships in this kdrama are solid, and the romance is super sweet, and it’s very much so the classic childhood friends to lovers that just makes me :’))

also, just like...it’s hopeful. and empowering. and just like, seeing characters go “i know this is hard for me to achieve and i know it would make so much more sense for me to just sit down with my head low and quietly accept where i am, but i’m going to pursue my dream anyways” just...idk, i feel like it’s a kdrama that a lot of young dreamers can relate to, and i really need to finish this kdrama, but it’s...really sweet and relatable.

4. space sweepers

where to watch: netflix

okay, so this isn’t a kdrama, but i need to rec this movie because it’s...so good. this is a science fiction film following this crew of...space sweepers. basically, earth is now uninhabitable/unsafe to live in, and the wealthy are all living on a repurposed mars. (bro doesn’t that sound familiar?)

in order to get money, a lot of people risk their lives by cleaning up debris still floating around orbit. these people are known as space sweepers, and they’re basically space janitors, only with a lot more flying and swearing. this crew winds up accidentally getting ahold of this mysterious child, who may or may not have a huge bounty on her head. i won’t go any deeper than that, but...this movie is so wonderful for its found family elements, and each character has such an interesting background, and i’m honestly surprised by how this movie went so deep into each character in such a short amount of time? (although honestly i would 1000/10 want a netflix series following each character’s lives just because)

admittedly, there’s some issues i have with this movie--like, idk, one character wears dreadlocks, and i’m just :/// about that, because :///// it really shows that south korea isn’t exempt from cultural appropriation. i still like the character, and i still like the movie overall, but that’s just a heads-up.

but besides that, this movie is really good at showing how sometimes the villain is just a wealthy old white dude, and sometimes family can really just be a ragtag team of outcasts, and sometimes it is really the younger generation that can literally bring hope and etc. it’s very much :’))

and that’s all i’ve got! thank u for asking me about kdramas, because...as you can tell: many thoughts.

#answered #i have....so many kdramas to watch too #like hospital playlist and king eternal monarch are def. kdramas i need to resume watching #and i've also....steadily been making my way through romance is a bonus book although i still don't really know how to feel about it #it's cute but i don't have too many thoughts/enough thoughts on it #i've just been watching a lot of lee jong suk's kdramas let's be real #i've also been meaning to watch what's wrong with secretary kim? because i remember liking it but i've only watched the first 3 eps #so i wasn't sure whether to rec it #tbh check back on me in a few months and i'll def. have more kdramas to rec asdfsfasdf #i now have the yearly viki plus plan and as you can tell: i am using it

3 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Note

hi! i just started reading your series particularly the storyline around namjoon x vixen and i’m really enjoying their dynamic so far bc it’s also what i’m personally interested in. but that being said i felt that it was necessary to mention that the book lolita specifically (which i saw was mentioned a couple times in their canon) shouldn’t be taken lightly as it’s been skewed from the authors intent by our society and has had ramifications that were still seeing today namely pedophilia. i’m not sending this ask to make u feel bad i only sincerely mean to educate as i recently learned about it too :// a friend of mine showed me ‘the lolita podcast’ which is on spotify and i was mortified to learn about the true depth of the book so yeah. while i personally am into certain kinks and am totally fine with other people having their own, i thought i would just warn abt that book in particular and how it’s unfortunately been misinterpreted by so many for so long

Thank you for making this clarification. Apparently I thought that the subtext was clear to everyone and I thought that I had transposed Vixen's character well enough to let everyone understand that she reads Lolita for what it is: a book that denounces disgusting, despicable behaviour and that every person that is involved in DDLG content and dynamics should read in order to understand the darkest, most dangerous sides of such topic. I am glad we can face this controversy.

If anyone would like, under the cut there is an in-depth analysis.

TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of controversial themes of Lolita, namely sexualisation of minors and pedophilia.

What is Lolita

Lolita is a novel written by Vladimir Nabokov, one of the most important authors of the 21st century.

The content

Basically, within the fiction of the novel, the book turns into the diary/defense of a criminal, who is undergoing trial as a pedophile after he became physically attracted to his step-daughter — who is a minor — and proceeded with running away with her after her mother's death, in an attempt to marry the girl. It is set in the USA during the mid-20th century. The man and his underage step-daughter explicitly get involved in sexual intercourse within the book. Through the book the man offers several excuses to pedophilia, even explicitly saying that it was the girl tempting him.

My statement on the book and its relevance within Namjoons' Love Talk

As a person who has read Lolita and has studied specifically the power dynamics in that book, I do not condone IN ANY WAY the sexualisation of minors, or ingaging in sexual acts with them, may them be consenting or not. Just so that we're clear.

I don't think that reading or studying Lolita means that one condones pedophilia, and a person like Vixen has surely read that book specifically because she thinks it's an important part of her culture that she needs to be aware of, just like one person would read books about the Holocaust to be aware of tragedies of the past and make sure that they do not repeat themselves. Lolita is not romanticised or idealised by Vixen. She is very aware of the content of the book. She read it because you need to know the good parts and the bad parts of your culture: knowing the bad parts allows you to know the risks and dangers of it and helps you stay away from acts and behaviours you do not condone.

Personally, I want to clear things up. Vladimir Nabokov was a Russian intellectual, reader and writer. It means he had a Russian perception of the role of literature, which is that of openly dealing with injustice and denounce acts that weren't all that uncommon back then. Lolita is a book that shows how despicable and how deprecable the mind of an abuser is. It was written to disgust people and to raise awareness against pedophilia, to improve regulations (the author openly names American States where at the time you could legally marry a minor. Nabokov wanted those states to be shamed! And many publishers didn't publish his book because they were afraid of political repercussions! They were afraid to show that their Patriotic, Free, Enlightened Country, aka America, The Land Of The Free, allowed and condoned such disgusting behaviour).

I am solidly aware of how much pedophilia and DDLG dynamics have often been brought in the same conversation.

I am glad this blog can be educational, after all. The important subtext here is that Vixen is an adult woman. And Namjoon is aware of that. Vixen thrives in her maturity and her wits and knowledge and confidence, which are traits of an adult woman. Namjoon knows that his partner is a grown up adult. The connotations of DDLG here are based exclusively on the power exchange between the characters, where one occupies an empowered, educational, caring space, while the other occupies a vulnerable, less empowered space. However, Vixen occupies this space with the maturity and the sexuality of a grown woman. And if I'm not mistaken, there are a few scenes in which she shows that although Namjoon is pretending to teach her something, he and she are both aware that she doesn't need such lesson. She simply feels like she needs a kind of guidance, and the first figure of guidance we meet in our lives are parenting figures, therefore the "daddy kink".

Now, regarding owning several translations of the same book: Vixen has lived abroad. And when you live abroad and you like reading, your key to the country is reading in their language. Vixen is a polyglot. She was brought up speaking three languages. Lolita is an interesting book for a polyglot because Nabokov himself was a polyglot. In my mind I can really see Vixen buying a text she knows — because she has read it carefully without any sort of lightness of heart — and reading it in her non-first languages once she goes abroad. I can see her reading it and confronting the different words that were used, the weight that every translator gave to the different statements and crimes that Humbert Humbert — the protagonist — has committed.

Now, the similarities between Vixen and Lolita begin and end in one thing. They are brats.

When Namjoon asks her about the books and the movie posters, Vixen says "are you asking me if I have a daddy kink or if I like owning multiple versions of the same book", and the reference to the daddy kink is her joking about the public perception of the book; still, this does not mean that that is her perception of the book. I do understand that her using irony as a coping machanism could be misinterpreted, but this doesn't affect her awareness on the themes of the book.

Vixen is moody, mercurial, playful once she gets into subspace — she toys around things like a girl, but she does so with the awareness of a grown woman; she decides to act childlike, coquettish and playful. She fools around like any of us do, and Namjoon likes the idea of conquering her, reassured by the fact that he has a grown woman in front of him, who has all the tools to tell him that she is not interested in starting a scene or behaving sexually in a specific moment. When she is in a bratty mood, she teases and provokes but never really follows through with her taunts. She needs Namjoon — her figure of guidance and responsibility — to actualise her empty threats. That is all she has in commons with Lolita. What is important is that they are two consenting adults, incredibly aware of how dangerous their games could be if they were even a bit less morally and culturally aware or even slightly less prepared.

I hope this gave you all you needed to know, nonnie. If you — or any of my readers — would like to discuss more about the issue, my DMs are open.

Honestly, I was waiting for this conversation to happen. I have been writing Namjoon and Vixen discussing the topic in one of the pieces but unfortunately that prompt hasn't been selected yet. As soon as I'm done with my exam, I will release a specific piece to explain Vixen's relationship with the text since it's part of the character's back story and her past with with her first boyfriend.

Thank you for bringing up the issue.

#anna vents #ask:anon #introducing vixen

5 notes · View notes

grammarkid · 7 years ago

Note

can you rant about Jennifer's body plz? I'm interested in hearing your thoughts on it

oh, my dude.. my dude, ur rly gonna regret asking me this. like, i legit wrote a paper on this film. i analyzed it for a month straight and did research. for ur own sake, i’m so sry. for everyone else, i’m gonna put it under a cut, bc.. it’s a lot.

ok, i just want to preface this by saying that i know that the movie is objectively just bad. tbh, the writing is terrible, and diablo cody? thought she could tap into the hip cool teen lingo™️? but she was rly just pulling words out of her ass, so i always get torn between finding the dialogue laughable and cringe-worthy.

but i love the movie to death and i actually got the chance to write a big paper about it in college. long story short, i took this english/social studies class that was all about monsters – vampires, werewolves, zombies, cyborgs, etc. – and how they were representations of society’s fear of those who transgress social norms. so, basically we spent an entire semester studying ‘monster culture,’ a way of reading texts that parses the social anxieties from within their monster stories, bc the word ‘monster’ comes from the latin ‘monstrum,’ which literally means “that which reveals or warns.” so in monster theory, a monster always signifies something other than itself. & our final assignment was to analyze a monster film that we hadn’t discussed in class and explain the issues behind the film’s monster – but i won’t get into all that, bc that’s kind of a diff story.

but without going into all the social anxiety stuff about teenage sexuality, simply put, the film is an allegory for the ways in which sexuality and one’s self-esteem are intertwined. literally, jennifer gets turned into a demon, and the only way she can remain healthy and beautiful is to kill/feed off the guys at her school – but, rly, the story behind that is about jennifer’s insecurities.

listen. jennifer slept with a lot of guys, even before she was transformed into a demon. needy said that jennifer lost her virginity in junior high. did u know that adolescents who have sex earlier are more likely to be depressed and to have issues with their self-esteem? (i told u, i did the research.) and teens with high levels of “sexual permissiveness” are often low in self-esteem in comparison to those who abstain. (no judgment at all, that’s just what the studies say. and let’s talk about the word ‘permissiveness’ here – it’s explicitly stated that jennifer’s already done anal. i’d say that’s permissive for a teenager.) and studies have also found that ppl who do participate in sex will often experience a temporary boost in self-esteem afterward, bc it makes them feel desirable – shocking!!

so, ok, the point is, what jennifer does with boys after she becomes a demon is rly not that different from what she did with boys before she was a demon – she uses them to improve her self-image. (the only difference now being that she.. u know.. kinda eats them.) bc as confident and pretty as jennifer is, she has a lot of problems with her self-image. she’s peppy and vivacious whenever she looks pretty, but rude and mean when she feels ugly. & like, the biggest fuckin’ insult needy could use against her was that she was insecure?? literally nothing else that needy said had any effect on her, but she rly cracked when needy accused her of being insecure. i mean, she literally starts crying as she’s putting on her makeup for the winter formal bc she can see herself in the mirror and she’s ugly, and the only way she can fix that is to, u know, eat a guy – and it’s not just any guy, ok? she’s not just going around murdering the random 65y/o dude in the mcdonald’s drive-thru or the lady running the convenience store. they’re all young guys, around her age, who very obviously find her attractive.

hmm. deteriorating demon eats boys who are attracted to her to regain beauty vs. human teenage girl with deteriorating self-worth and self-esteem sleeps with boys who are attracted to her to feel beautiful again. and uh let’s not forget that girls who regularly use guys are often called ‘man eaters.’ like, it literally could not be more obvious?? yet so many ppl i’ve talked to about it are oblivious.

but the thing that rly gets me about this movie? it’s the relationship between jen and needy. and i’m not just talking about the fact that they made out in bed for thirty seconds – although that does play a factor. i’m talking about how the film is rly an exploration of how these issues literally destroy their relationship.

bc jennifer is detrimentally obsessed with being pretty and popular and ‘socially relevant’ but she can’t let go of needy. needy even says that it’s to the point that kids at their school literally can’t understand why jen hangs out with her?? and i think that reason is pretty obvious.

like, ppl have their opinions, but i feel like there is clearly something between jennifer and needy beyond just friendship? jennifer is constantly sizing needy up, flirting with her, touching her, etc. jennifer even says that they used to play ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ when they were younger. like, idk, that doesn’t seem like something friends do to me?? & it definitely doesn’t seem like something needy would suggest. no, that had to have been jennifer’s idea. but why? bc she has feelings for needy. hint: jennifer didn’t go after anyone in the film other than ppl she could use to her advantage – she explicitly mentions wanting to sleep with ahmet, jonas is the quarterback so ofc sleeping with him would be a boost to her esteem, colin asked her out on a date despite her lackluster appearance, and she also mentioned finding chip attractive. (if she could get him to choose her despite his loyalty to needy, wouldn’t that be a rush? why do u think she was so adamant when she said ‘tell me i’m better than needy’??) she doesn’t even attempt to approach anyone else in that way except needy. immediately after jennifer’s transformation, she goes back to needy. she’s the first person jennifer thinks of, and the first person we see jennifer approach in that way. and the scene definitely isn’t lacking sexual tension?? but ultimately it just suggests that needy could, in fact, give jennifer the same thing she got from the boys – i would even go so far as to say that, as a whole, the film suggests that needy is the only one who could give her that – but she can’t bring herself to do it. she cares too much about her to hurt her, to use her like that, and she even admits that later in needy’s bedroom. she literally says “i couldn’t hurt you.”

like omg the real tragedy of the movie is that needy and jen are torn apart by their missed opportunities. they’re constantly reaching out for one another, but they’re never in sync. after jen’s transformation, needy tries to be there for her, asks her questions, wants to be sure she’s okay, but jen can’t let her in bc she can’t even cope with the truth herself. after she kills colin, jen goes to needy’s room and tells her what happened to her bc it’s taking its toll on her and she’s desperate for needy’s support and validation, but needy is already convinced that she’s evil and her aggressive questions make jennifer retract. and without needy, jennifer has nothing. that’s why she goes after chip, bc it will hurt needy the same way needy hurt her. & personally, i don’t think jennifer was ever truly attracted to chip – i think she was attracted to his loyalty. & she was jealous of needy’s relationship with him bc it was steady and respectful and jen had no way of obtaining that for herself. and at that point in the film, she’s got nothing left to lose. honestly, like, with the others? jen didn’t hesitate. she made out with them and tore them apart at the first available opportunity. with chip? she took him to the pool and they just.. fucking sat there?? she tells him “i feel so empty” and yea most ppl probably take that to mean that she’s hungry, but if she was starving, then she’d just have her way with chip and be done with it, wouldn’t she? but she didn’t want to. she feels empty bc it’s all catching up to her and she doesn’t even have needy to help her through it. needy pushed her away.

which is why i personally think that jennifer looks her absolute worst in the final scene with needy in her bedroom. she fed a bit off chip, obv, bc it was enough to kill him, and enough to completely heal the giant gaping hole in her stomach – which she plainly says to needy only happens ‘when she’s full.’ and yet she’s still so ugly. her skin is pale and her eyes are yellow and bloodshot, why? bc her physical state is a literal representation of her self-image and she feels terrible about herself so she looks terrible. ok, another hint: immediately after jen dies? she’s beautiful again. you literally watch it happen. & yeah, bc the film is about demons and the occult, u could say that the demon left her body, blah blah, but i think she becomes beautiful again bc that’s what she looks like when it’s not being distorted through the lens of her own self-view. all her insecurities aren’t killing her anymore, bc there’s nothing left. (and, just one last note about this final scene. what allows needy to kill jen? she tears off her bff necklace. and then jen literally loses all her power. she falls out of midair. it’s like everything stops, bc she still wore the necklace, she was still holding on to needy, even tho needy pushed her away. that was the last thing holding her together and needy took that too. and i think, rly, that’s what ultimately killed her. sure, the boxcutter had something to do with it, but there’s a reason that moment took up so much screen time, why it had such an impact, whereas the knife going in and that stupid ass ‘my tit’ line were so rushed in comparison.)

ugh, gosh. ok, i rly need to stop now. all that is already all twisted up and it hardly makes any sense bc i was rushing. i could literally go on for days about this movie, but this has already taken up like an hour of my day?? and i’m sure no one has even read this far anyway. but yeah. i have a lot of feelings about jennifer’s body, because imo it’s rly a tragedy disguised as a horror film.

#r u sry u asked?#i'm p sure u are #i'm also sry i'm such a loser #feel free to unfollow me i'm trash

21 notes · View notes

dxmedstudent · 7 years ago

Note

hello dr. dx (i hope u dont mind me calling u that), i've noticed that in a lot of medical tv shows/movies there's always an ep where the patient/their families refuse medical help bc of their religion (Jehovah's witness seems to always be the reason) and the doctors portrayed almost always just gives up. im curious about how you and other docs go about this in the real world. i understand u have to respect the pts. wishes but do u just give up after informing them of all the consequences?

Hello! I’m fine with you calling me Dr Dx, even Dx is fine. Unless we’re in hospital and you’re my patient, then I’m pretty much another normal person * :) Medical ethics is a really interesting subject; like many of us, I could probably wax lyrical about it all day and still have things to say. It’s sometimes clear cut, and sometimes it’s less than evident what the ‘best’ way forward is. But what’s important is knowing what the laws are, within the country we are working in. I’ll start with something important. People usually (almost always wrongly) quote the Hippocratic oath, which is archaic and technically legally irrelevant. But that’s not the only ethical code we have. More simply, and importantly, we have four basic pillars in medical ethics; four rules that fundammentally govern how we act:

Autonomy – we must respect the patient's right to make their own decision.

Beneficence – we must 'do good' for our patients.

Non-Maleficence – we must aim to 'do no harm'

Justice – we must treat people fairly and equitably.

So it’s built into the basic rules of doctoring that we have to respect the patient’s right to choose what happens to their body and their health. In the UK, the laws are clear regarding whether a patient is capable of making this choice; that is, whether they are competent. Every adult is presumed competent unless we have reason to suspect otherwise, in which case we assess their competence. Teenagers can be found to be Gillick/Frasier competent if they are mature enough to understand the decision, but that’s a more complex issue. Exactly where the line is for whether a patient is competent can be complex. But to summarise the essence of competence, it’s something like this: that the patient has the ability to take in the relevant information, retain that information long enough to decide, process it and weigh it up, come to a decision and communicate that decision to us. It’s absolutely vital for us to realise this: the decision that the patient has come to does not need to be rational to us; patients, if the are competent, have the right to make a ‘bad’ decision. We as a society don’t go around interfering with everyone’s lives when they are making a decision that may be regrettable, and that holds true for medicine as well. Someone like a Jehovah’s Witness (and I’ve treated a few) has firmly held beliefs about which treatments they will consider, and which they won’t. It’s absolutely fine for us to discuss the potential options with them (including alternatives to blood products), and the risks of refusing treatment we think is medically necessary. To be fair, most Jehovah’s witnesses are very, very informed about this already, because it’s one of their core beliefs. So quite often, they already know everything there is to know. And it’s important to realise that they aren’t acting out of ignorance, but out of beliefs. Ignorance of medical science is something you can potentially change, if you take time to build up their trust and discuss things together. But beliefs are a different matter; it’s unlikely that I or anyone else will change how they feel about something that was never based on fact to begin with. Now, I can attempt to inform a patient who just doesn’t know enough to make a decision, and I can work with a patient to clear up any misapprehensions they may have about treatment options. But I probably will not be causing any massive changes in peoples’ idealogies. I’m not out to convert people to a different religion or make them stop believing in what they already practice; I have to respect that this is a part of them, and support them with this in mind. The conversations we have with each patient is different, and so are the pressures acting on them. So with some patients you can barely touch on a topic at all because their mind is decided, whereas with other patients it is much easier to have an indepth discussion about a difficult topic. But there’s only so much talking we can do before the clinician has to accept that the patient has made their choice. I don’t watch many medical dramas (heh, you can have such a thing as too much medicine, I usually flick the channel onto somehting else as if something awful came on, whenever I happen upon a medical program on TV these days!), but perhaps they aren’t quite doing these kinds of interaction justice when they portray the topic. I guess that happens because TV likes to show medicine as being dramatic, with constant life-and-death decisions and people butting heads over everything, and egos blazing on all sides. But in real life, everything is much more slow-paced, most decisions aren’t imminently life threatening, most people are more mellow and eveything is generally a lot less exciting. I dare say nobody would watch an average doctor’s shift on TV if it wasn’t jazzed up a bit. From where I’m standing, I don’t see it as ‘giving up’ if I respect that my patient with particular beliefs will choose to go along with them. The rules are there for a reason, and I must follow them, but it’s more than that; I have to respect the free will of the patient to choose for themselves. I have to respect them as an individual capable of reasoned thought and free will, even if I disagree with their choice. Although it’s sometimes uncomfortable when patients choose what we would consider to be a bad course of action (most frequently, self-discharging when we think they still need treatment, please don’t do this), it’s part of our job to support their right to decide. And it’s just as much a vital part of doctoring, being one of the 4 core tenets of our care. If I think someone will die as a direct result of refusing treatment, I’d be pretty negligent to not make that clear, and it’s never fun to have to go the ‘you know, if you continue with this, you may die, and I have to make you sign this paperwork to demonstrate that you understand that I’m telling you that you may die, because you may die’ route. It’s never a path we like walking down, because we like treating people, and we like fast solutions, and we like to know that we’ve done our best, sorted someone out and they are now safe. That is literally all I want from every patient interaction, for them to be stable, safe and be getting better. In the end, doctors are simple people at heart. We want to make things better and keep people safe. But, in the end, I have to respect their right to decide, if they have capacity. It doesn’t matter if someone decides to refuse treatment A because of their beliefs, or because they think it won’t work, or because they prefer holy water and homeopathy, or because they just don’t like me and think I’m stupid. As long as they are competent (i.e. mentally there enough to be able to decide), then it’s their call. Now, sometimes people aren’t competent to decide. In which case, in the UK we treat them either according to the mental capacity act (if the illness is physical) or the mental health act (if the illness and treatment is mental health related). We can treat people in their best interests (i.e. to save their life) knowing that they cannot make a decision at this point in time, because their ability to do so is significantly impaired. This might be due to something physical like an infection causing them to be delirious, or something mental like an acute episode of mania. If they can’t make the decision because they lack capacity, we act in their best interests, with the aim of restoring their ability and capacity. We try to be the least restrictive or invasive that we can be, and to act purely with their interests in mind. And if the patent is a kid, things get more complex. If doctors believe a kid needs lifesaving treatment and the parents refuse (whatever the grounds), odds are that the doctors and hospital will probably have to take the family to court and treat the child in their best interests, regardless of the beliefs and reasonsings of the parent. Because, although we’re allowed to make rash or silly decisions about ourselves, we aren’t necessarily allowed to do this for our children. Because our children are not chattel, and have their own inviolable rights to life and to treatment. So if a child is involved, things get a lot more complicated, tend to go to court, and the doctors will err on the side of actively treating the child wherever possible. That’s where things can get really complex and bitter. Nobody wants these kinds of situation to arise, and it can be hugely stressful for everyone involved. But for the most part, it’s not as dramatic as TV will have you believe. For the most part, even patients with strongly held beliefs who refuse treatments are generally cooperative and able to make a plan for their present and future care. It adds another layer of complexity to our work, but we don’t sit there every day stressing about what might happen if a Jehovah’s Witness came in. It’s just a situation we have to address every once in a while. * in hospital, I’m just a normal person with a stethoscope and too many things to do...

18 notes · View notes

dirtyhancls · 8 years ago

Note

ask meme: do all of the them Ψ(｀▽´)Ψ

What’s the last book you read? What did you think of it?

hmmm I reread like half of Graceling, and it’s as good as ever and I’m still bitter that Kristen Cashore hasn’t written anything since the series. it’s YA but also Monster novel TM and so thought provoking

What’s the worst book you’ve ever read, and why?

Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry (tbh i read this in 6th grade and HATED it with a Burning Passion but I also don’t remember like 90% of it. just kno that i hated it)

A book you found overhyped, and why

A Hero At The End of the World. I agree with most of the review about it-- it’s very evident the author comes from a fanfic background bc writing fic is very different from novels and there’s some things that don’t translate (character development? relationship development?) if you read the book with the knowledge that its essentially drarry fanfic it makes sense, as its own novel there’s a lot rushed

Ereaders versus physical books is such a false dichotomy. Instead, tell me what other formats (phone apps, tumblr fiction, twitter haikus) you read in

IBOOKS !!!!!!!! ibooks saved my life bc now i can find most books online and then download them and read them it’s amazing

Which genre(s) don’t you read? Why not?

romance jfc i just dont go there sorry (mostly bc of the covers)

If you read in more than one language, is there a difference between the experience of reading in your native language(s) and reading in other languages?

nope cannot read chinese rip

If you’re not a native English speaker, how much do you read in your native language versus how much you read in English? How do you feel about that? // If you’re a native English speaker, go find a book in your second/third/etc language, or in translation, to add to your to-read list

can i count latin as a third language lmao?? screw it i’m doing it one day i’ll read the entirety of the aenied in latin

The book you read when you’re stuck in bed sick

HMMM my go to book is probably The Amulet of Samarkand? or maybe Six of Crows

Fiction or non-fiction or both? In what ratio? Where do you draw the line between the two?

pretty much 100% fiction but i;m aiming to change that (And the Bnad Played On is next on my list)

The book(s) you bought because the cover was pretty, and whether it was worth it

:/ i dont usually buy books but i guess you can count A Conjuring of Light? Bc the cover was super pretty and my aesthetic, although i would’ve bought it regardless just bc it was the final book in the series

The worst book hangover you’ve ever had

HOO BOY Ptolemy’s Gate or Code Name Verity

Do you have to finish one book before you start the next one, or do you read multiple books at the same time?

finish but mostly bc i read so fast that if i finish a book it’s usually in a day or two

The fictional character you want to believe you resemble and the fictional character you actually resemble

i want to believe i resemble Sirius Black but i probably actually resemble Remus Lupin

The book that, in hindsight, really should have clued you in to the fact that you’re _________ (queer/in love/doomed to be an academic/etc)

Artemis Fowl/The Bartimaeus Trilogy that I’m not as clever as i fancied i was

The book that you reread over and over again and get new things from every time

G O D probably The Bartimaeus Trilogy

The book that you don’t dare reread for fear it won’t be the same any more

Hnnnnnnnnng i’m a huge believer in rereads so but lowkey Percy jackson bc now that i’m older i've realized a lot of its flaws

Preferred bookshelf organisation scheme

by my favorites

Do you theme your monthly/yearly/etc reading (eg Year of Reading Women)?

Nope bc i’m super inconsistent with reading nowadays and i’m super picky about tstarting new books

That book with a twist that felt like a blow to the chest. Tell me about it. (But warn for spoilers if necessary!)

CODE NAME VERITY once we got to Maddie’s POV i sobbed my way through it culminating in me having to put the book down at that one BANG BANG moment bc i couldnt see through my tears and also my heart had died inside my chest, AND THEN ALSO when they read her notes/confession and my mind was blown by how clever everything was.

The coolest bookshop you’ve ever been to

i can’t remember the name I think it’s the one world cafe but it’s a cafe/bookshop/bar and super cool, but also there’s a barnes and noble with a fishtank built in an old powerplant thats hella cool

The book you gave up on, and the reasons why

The Wrath and the Dawn, sorry too boring and generic and also like, annoyingly straight

The book you finished even though you hated it, and the reasons why

Heart of Darkness bc i had to for school

The book you expected to hate, didn’t, and then got angry about not hating

Grapes of Wrath tbh

The book that you got into because of the movie/TV series/etc, and the relative merits of each version

HOWLS MOVING CASTLE

i luv the movie ofc, it’s gorgoeus in all ways and delightful but not gonna lie the story telling is not very good and it sorta makes no sense until u read the book. don’t like the witch of the waste plot and howl becomes much too mysterious wizard for my tastes

SOPHIE AND HOWL ARE THE DELIGHT OF THIS BOOK, their characters are what makes it tbh, Book Howl is the best howl bc he’s ridiculous and hilarious and a coward and i luv it. sophie is less of a mouse (even tho she still thinks she is ahaha) and the part where she’s so pissed off she turns water into weedkiller is my fav. it’s also just a complete subversion fo fantasy which i think miyazaki sorta doesn’t get

The only book care question that actually means anything: do you write in your books? If so, in pen or in pencil?

NOPE I WANT MY BOOKS IN PRISTINE CONDITION

Do you read reviews of books? Before or after you read the books themselves? Why? Why not?

usually only read reviews of 1. books that havent come out yet and 2. books after i’ve read them to see what other people say. also occasionally 3. i read reviews to make fun of them

The book you’re embarrassed to admit you’ve read

tbh tbh tbh captive prince just to see what it was like for myself and god jfc

The one where the fanfic was better than the original (and the relevant AO3 links, pls)

like, any number of klance fic tbh or HP fic but here’s some like, absolute amazing ones

As Red as Hearts and Autumn- Mauraders Era fic that breaks my heart everytime, particularly fond of this Sirius

call me, beep me most people kno this, but a staple of klance and very well done

it’s quite bizarre, and will remain this way- more klance but also this made my heart hurt

we must unite inside her walls or we'll crumble from within more respectful of HP women than JK Rowling ever was or will be, i love this so much

Catfished- never thought this would be a thing but draco is turned into a glass fish and harry realizes things

thread our way through a string of stars tbh one of the best klance fics i’ve ever read and probably ever will read

Your vacation reading habits

agressive rereads

The book you read the blurb of, constructed a version of in your mind, and were promptly disappointed by once you finally got around to actually reading it

A Hero At the End of the World :/

Bonus question: rec me something!

READ CODE NAME VERITY FOR THE LOVE OF UR LIFE

#asks #louisxvi #ask meme

1 note · View note

makeroomforthejolyghost · 8 years ago

Text

HERE IT IS!!! i’ve been waiting 700 fuckin pages for this omg; i have such fuckin Collector’s Pride about this passage in proust bc i think it is. the only instance in anything i have ever read??? where an author describes how the interaction btwn feeling compelled to hide vs. to draw attention to their being sick[bats] plays out--and where they get it right, bc proust speaks 1. from personal experience and 2. without either undue self-defensiveness or -mockery. SO I AM GOING TO QUOTE IT AT LENGTH, w/ regrets if ur on mobile.

Neurotic subjects are perhaps less addicted than any ... to “listening to their insides”: they hear so many things going on by which they realise later that they were wrong to let themselves be alarmed, that they end by paying no attention to any of them. Their nervous systems have so often cried out to them for help, as though with some serious malady, when it was simply going to start snowing or they were going to move house, that they have acquired the habit of paying no more heed to these warnings than a soldier who in the heat of battle perceives them so little that he is capable, although dying, of carrying on for some days still the life of a man in perfect health. One morning, bearing within me all my habitual ailments, from whose constant internal circulation I kept my mind turned as resolutely away as from the circulation of my blood, I came running blithely into the dining-room where my parents were already at table, and--having assured myself, as usual, that to feel cold may mean not that one ought to warm oneself but that, for instance, one has received a scolding, and not to feel hungry may mean that it is going to rain and not that one ought to fast--had taken my place between them when in the act of swallowing the first mouthful of a particularly tempting cutlet, a nausea and dizziness brought me to a halt, the feverish reaction of an illness that had already begun, the symptoms of which had been masked ... by the ice of my indifference, but which obstinately refused the nourishment that I was not in a fit state to absorb. Then, at the same moment, the thought that I would be prevented from going out if I was seen to be unwell gave me, as the instinct of self-preservation gives a wounded man, the strength to crawl to my own room, where I found that I had a temperature of 104, and then to get ready to go to the Champs-Elysées. Through the languid and vulnerable shell which encased them, my eager thoughts were urging me towards, were clamouring for the soothing delight of a game of prisoner’s base with Gilberte, and an hour later, barely able to keep on my feet, but happy in being by her side, I had still the strength to enjoy it. (2.92-3)

fjslahgsdf i love that (in addition to being complete nonsense in context) his rationalization re feeling cold teaches him to associate illness w/ punishment and thus w/ bad behavior??? and how he slides right from there to the more obvious connection btwn these phenomena, i.e. that as a child u feel compelled to hide both so as not to let ur parents deprive you of a privilege. also haha notice that in spite of his habitual lack of interest in food the narrator describes the cutlet as “particularly tempting,” vs. his later description of “eager thoughts” inside a “languid and vulnerable shell” holy... shit... yes??? i. get maybe unnecessarily excited, when i see depicted this, like. necessary cognitive dissonance. that comes w/ chronic illness; i often see that phenomenon reduced to “we fake being well, not being sick” but that never quite feels accurate to my experience. like it’s true that’s what ur doing when you go out n try to look nice and have fun, do school &c. w/out mentioning to anyone that ur not well, yeah, but. qua sensation it’s more like a disconnect btwn the state of the fleshcase and the standard by which u judge external phenomena. like? the threshold past which you lose the ability to do that--to aesthetically appreciate or even feel tempted by food you intellectually know would nauseate you, for example--gets way higher; you develop a tolerance to the altered state, i guess, as you would to an actual drug.

anyway, also this:

For some time now I had been liable to fits of breathlessness, and our doctor, braving the disapproval of my grandmother, who saw me already dying a drunkard’s death, had recommended me to take ... beer, champagne or brandy when I felt an attack coming. ... I was often obliged, so that my grandmother should allow it to be given to me, instead of disguising, almost to make a display of my state of suffocation. On the other hand, as soon as I felt it coming, ... I would grow distressed at the thought of my grandmother’s anxiety, of which I was far more afraid than of my own sufferings. But at the same time my body, either because it was too weak to keep those sufferings secret, or because it feared lest, in their ignorance of the imminent attack, people might demand of me some exertion which it would have found impossible or dangerous, gave me the need to warn my grandmother of my symptoms with a precision into which I put a sort of physiological punctiliousness. If I observed in myself a disturbing symptom which I had not previously discerned, my body was in distress so long as I had not communicated it to my grandmother. If she pretended to take no notice, it made me insist. Sometimes I went too far; and that beloved face, which was no longer able always to control its emotion as in the past, would betray an expression of pity, a painful contraction. ... And its scruples being at the same time calmed by the certainty that she was now aware of the discomfort that I felt, my body offered no opposition to my reassuring her. I protested that this discomfort was not really painful, that I was in no sense to be pitied, that she might be quite sure that I was now happy; my body had wished to secure exactly the amount of pity that it deserved, and, provided that someone knew that it had a pain in its right side, it could see no harm in my declaring that this pain was of no consequence and was not an obstacle to my happiness (93-4)

i just?? yes? exactly!!! that is exactly how it works like it feels fucking horrible not to tell anyone but also u. don’t want to, because it will inevitably sound like a Big Deal, and sort of is a big deal In The Grand Scheme Of Things re how much it affects your life, but in order to admit that (and thus not have to worry about how to Break The News when and if it becomes relevant) you risk making it sound Tragic or Scary, which it isn’t, because it’s. normal. i like that the only role he gives to fear, here, is worry about how to navigate social situations while ill; i’ve been so indignant lately about all the time i spent accepting other people’s perception that i was afraid of being or becoming ill when... no? he’s right; that stopped being scary ages ago. what u have is a constant quiet knowledge that u are Weak and Ailing--in a way/to an extent that it may or may not be safe or plausible to hide--and a fear of how that might affect ur social existence and ability to function. and it’s so fucking nice to see that mentality figure in a story!!!

#tell marcel i'm ignoring his text posts #screalth tag #alcohol ///#emetophobia warning ///

1 note · View note