#boring and maybe a little too entertained by fictional idiots having emotional problems

[egophiliac]

Hi!

What's your favourite Disney movie? And does your preference for the dorms have any influence on their movies and vice versa? Like I know you love Diasomnia so is Sleeping Beauty high up there for you?

I'm just asking because Snow White is actually my favourite Disney Princess and her movie is my favourite yet Pomefiore is my least favourite dorm (but Lion King and Savanaclaw are both in my top two) and I was wondering if it's similar for you?

yessss someone else whose favorite princess is Snow! ❄️

that said, it's hard to say what my favorite movie is, because I'm one of those annoying people who's like "well it depends" (on different aspects, on my mood, on the phase of the moon, etc). though out of the ones represented in Twst, I think it probably is Sleeping Beauty! I think it's really pretty and just a delightful movie! it hits a nice sweet spot for me of being kind of...gently grounded while still having that floaty-fairytale feeling, if that makes sense also I might have had a huge villaincrush on Maleficent that is being massively projected onto Meleanor, shh

although I actually sort of hated Diasomnia at first (l-look, they didn't have cards at first and all we had to go on were the website descriptions that make everyone sound horrible). so I dunno, maybe the influence helped win me over to them! or maybe just because, like everything else in Twst, they were unexpectedly enjoyable in practice?

(I don't think there are any that had a negative influence either, because I am also one of those annoying people who's like "well I don't have a least favorite, I like everybody!") (sob. it's true though.) (I just, I just love characters so much --)

[minsugayoongiagustd]

Her (Series)

Heyho, Fam!! It's my first time to write any sort of fan fiction. I have no idea if this is good enough for anyone's reading entertainment but I did have fun writing it. Let me know if this passes standards so I can upload the next part. If not, then I'll keep my writings to myself. No hard feelings! I really just wanted to try. :)

Parts alternate from the the character Andie's POV and Yoongi's POV.

Fluff only

**Part One: Andie**

It was such a cold day that I was actually happy to be inside, even if I was stuck waiting in the longest line ever. Seems like everyone wanted warm drinks today, so everything moved at a snail’s pace. But I didn’t mind. I woke up in such a good mood—thankful for everything that was happening in my life lately. I had gotten into the firm that I wanted to work in, finally was able to move into my own place and living the life that I had always dreamed about. I had the love of friends and family and have never felt more content. I literally could not ask for more… Except maybe warm strawberry tea. This line is taking forever. Just then, a message comes in:

Today I made french toast and strawberry tea just like we always have on cold mornings like this, but I forgot that you don’t live here anymore. I am a bit sad but I am enjoying the food and the memories it brings. I miss you and I am proud of you, my daughter. Be safe.

My Dad is the sweetest. He is a music professor at a University nearby so we often spent snow days together since I was little. French toast and strawberry tea had been our little ritual. I always crave for a cup on mornings like today. I miss him… I’m glad he SMS’d me. I start composing a reply when the barrista calls out. I realize that I am finally next in line. I put my phone away, rest my bag, coat, earmuffs and gloves on the counter and open my mouth to give my order when someone appears right beside me out of nowhere.

“Hey, I’m back. I forgot. I meant to give the change,” he said.

A strangers’ hand clutching small bills was suddenly beside mine that were already on the counter. They were possibly the whitest hands I’ve ever seen in my life. He sounded disengaged, like his mind was actually somewhere else, but his hands betrayed his cool demeanor. They were lined with veins that no doubt bore witness to countless stories.  Funny how I could tell with just one look that he was no stranger to hard work. Hard work means passion, my Dad always says. And judging from his hands, he was undoubtedly a passionate guy.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Oh, it’s alright—I don’t mind,” I say, smiling awkwardly, being careful to not meet his gaze. I was painfully aware that I bluntly stared at his hands and was a bit worried that he might have caught me. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. Why do I always blush this way? I hate that my cheeks always betray my emotions.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he said coldly.

I look up to find that I was actually an intruder in the conversation between the barrista and this strange white-handed man. “Thank you very much, Sir. You didn’t have to come back,” the barrista replied.

“There’s more than enough there, maybe this could also pay for whatever she’s having. I did cut in line.” The tone in his voice was almost robotic.

“Me?” I asked, almost shocked at his audacity.

“I’m still not talking to you--but do you really see any other girl here apart from you right now? Tss…” He said, sounding very much annoyed.

What? Did I do something wrong? What was his deal?! Was he really annoyed at ME? Wasn’t HE the one who had cut in line? I had never met anyone more rude in my entire life! So many questions came flooding all at once and I prepared to release it all on him. I turned to face him and all of a sudden his gaze met mine. Wow. I was too stunned to speak. He was almost like a shadow in all black. He had on a baseball cap, a scarf that almost came up to his ears and a long winter coat. With all that on, I could clearly see the most expressive brown eyes I had ever seen staring back at me. His skin was porcelain and flawless. But those eyes… I could swear he saw right into my thoughts. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. Absolutely nothing. I stood there with an open mouth like an idiot, grabbing onto my purse for comfort.

He shot me a steely look as if to challenge me to say something and when I obviously couldn’t, he smirked. And in a split-second snapped out of my trance. I had never felt so provoked in my life!

“I’m going.” And just like that, the mystery man walked away without saying another word.

“Thank you again very much, Sir!” The barrista said happily. Turning to me, he said, “And what will you be having today, Ma’am?” His words hung in the air as I tried to process what had just happened.

I’m usually a pretty feisty girl. I never let anyone get away with disrespecting me. Ever. I never saw this guy’s face before in my life and he somehow he is getting away with mistreating me for no cause at all. I had never felt so insulted so early in the morning. Did I not look like I could buy my own drinks? Did I seem like the kind of girl who could be talked to in that manner? So many thoughts filled my head. Who does this guy think he is? I completely abandoned my cravings, grabbed my stuff from the counter and marched straight out the door after this rude man.

A rush of cold wind hit me like a ton of bricks but I was too upset to worry about it. I fumbled with all my winter gear that I was absent-mindedly carrying instead of wearing and hurriedly opened my wallet to take out a few bills.

“Ya!!! Hey you!” I said, trying to catch up to the mystery man.

His long black coat was flapping in the cold January wind behind him. He walked faster and pretended to not hear me. All I could really see from his face was the black baseball cap bobbing up and down as he stared down at the pavement.

“Hey, you owe me an apology too!” I half-scream toward his back. “I really didn’t do anything for you to talk to me that way! Hey! You! In the black coat! YA!!!”

Finally catching up, I took his arm and turned him around to hand him the bills. “Here. I can buy my own tea, thanks. Can I just remind you that YOU were the one who cut in line. AND! By the way, you can’t just disrespect people like that and throw them a few bucks to make it up. It doesn’t work that way.” The guy does not look up at all.

“I don’t know what you want. I don’t want your money,” he said under his breath, swatting my hand and starting to walk away again.

“Well neither do I!!” I say loud enough that some people on the busy sideway turn to look at what was unfolding.

He finally looked up with a frustrated expression on his face. “Look, Miss. I don’t know what you want from me. I tried to buy you coffee to apologize. It’s not my problem if you don’t want it. Take your money and leave me alone.”

“What I want is an apology, and this is YOUR money.” I say, grabbing his wrist and firmly pressing the money into his palm. “I’m just giving it back. So say it—apologize to me.” I tried to look him dead in the eye so that he would know how serious I was.

So there we stood in the middle of the street, our hands still somehow connected to each other, in the freezing cold staring each other down. My breath catches in my throat. Those eyes… I feel my cheeks burn—from anger, or the cold or how this guy is making me feel right now, I don’t know. Oh, God, please let it be anything but the last option.

“You really shouldn’t step out into freezing weather wit not even a coat on. See? You’ve turned so red from the cold.”

He takes my hand and makes it into fist, securing the bills into my palm. I am surprisingly resigned to his touch. He suddenly takes the scarf he is wearing from his around his neck and puts it around mine. It smells clean but well-worn. It instantly makes me feel safe.

This time, I really didn’t know what to say. And I can’t move. He looks at me intently the eye, turns around and walks away.

Damn.