#if you notice inconsistency in character no u dont

[seaweedbraens]

Honestly ricks new book has just inspired me to reread wcwsthwas again.

I'm convinced Rick doesn't remember who his characters are anymore.

ill be the first to admit my characters can also be ooc! i think ive also fallen into the 'annabeth as a mom friend' trap (though piper is usually annabeth's mom in my fic) and i do think i have a lot of work to do keeping my characterizations consistent.

but heres the crux of my problem, right: this isnt my job. im a girl in my twenties who works full time and writes for fun. my ao3 is my hobby, and the characters i write are not canon. thats why it KILLS ME that rick writes with such a loose pen. in this new book, ive seen at least 5 inconsistencies, and thats IGNORING the timeline one (because why are people acting like leo is alive???). he has changed....just core things about characters. like grover the vegetarian eating a bacon sandwich and clovis now being morpehus' son. lack of attention to the little details, imo, just shows a lack of care. and as @glove23 pointed out, it shows that he really doeant respect his readers. he's acting like we're idiots, like we arent going to notice the changes. and, at the risk of aounding like a scooby doo villain, HES GETTING AWAY WITH IT TOO!! twitter laps up everything he does. it infuriates me to a whole other level.

this man is retconning shit left and right, tweaking stories previous to suit whatever new one he's writiig at the moment, and it just comes off as disrespectful and sloppy. fic writers are doing better than him at just about everything at this point. im not even talking about ME. there are heaps of really incredible pjo authors who seem to understand and respect the source material far more than rick seems to these days. and thats a goddamn shame.

ive read snippets of the book - some parts are okay and some are passable but most feel...weird. i dont know if its just me, but even the percabeth felt off. i hate how percy calls himself dumb in, like, every second sentence. when did that become a thing? and WHY? i wouldnt be surprised if this was ghostwritten. tbh, i hope it is. like you said, it feels like rick doesnt know how to write his characters anymore :/ sucks but i feel like i need to add a disclaimer to every fic now: this author has read only the original pjo and hoo books and all characters are written based on the ones of those series.

ANYWAY THIS IS NOT WHAT U ASKED FOR I WENT ON A BIGASS TANGENT IM SORRY SHSKSKSJSKSK

sidenote: to the poor souls running the riordanverse wiki, GOOD LUCK

[crowkip]

hi there!! i came across your art recently and love how you simplify forms for your style!! Do you have any tips on what you did to learn art and develop your current style? Did you take figure drawing lessons or just hyperfixate on an anime?? Any materials/exercises that were particularly helpful for learning how to draw humans? Thanks for your time!

thank u so much!!! i do have some handy info but im gonna put it under the cut so it doesnt clog up ppl's feeds bc it's gonna get a little long, hope this helps out!! ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)

ok so!! my top tip is to try out some life drawing classes! you'll often be expected to capture a full body gesture in 5-15 minutes which really helps you learn break the body down into its simplest forms since you wont have time to work on all the details. i only ever did a few sessions since they were part of a design course i was taking but even that alone definitely helped me streamline my process when it comes to planning out poses and making sure things arent looking too stiff

as for developing a style i honestly dont have a super clear answer bc i still find that i feel like my art is vERY very inconsistent, but even with that being said i do still have a few things that've helped personally!! easiest place to start is finding the tools you enjoy working with, for me i have a handful of brushes in csp that i tend to default to which helps form a little bit of consistency across my drawings (ofc dont be scared to branch out!! it's just handy to know what brushes work best for you). the other thing that's influenced my style is reading lots of comics and spending a lot of time looking at other artists' sketches, if you see a specific feature you like in their work try giving it a go yourself!! i remember noticing the contrast of soft and hard shadows in old oil paintings a few years ago n thinking 'ooh ive gotta try that' and ive been using it on my own art ever since. in the end your own style is greatly just a reflection of little things you've loved seeing in other peoples art and once you combine all those you end up with smth uniquely yours which i just think is awesome tbh

and as for shows n stuff that got me drawing, i dont have the coolest answer but as a kid i got super into drawing my friends as my little pony characters lmao i would spend every minute between classes drawing these stupid little rainbow horses and it actually really got me into picking out colour palettes and helped me build up that muscle memory which was what led into me drawing things that were a little more challenging. even if whatever motivates you to draw is considered kind childish or 'cringy' or whatever, dont stop drawing what you enjoy!! i wouldnt be drawing now without the years of pony doodles on homework as a kid and im glad i embraced it. i hope this can be helpful to you, so sorry for the long read but thanks for getting through it all!! good luck as dont be scared to dm me if you ever have any questions, i'll always do my best to help out :D

[heliianth]

hey zelda nerd tell me about the inconsistencies in aoc i don't know much abt botw and i wanna hear

holy fuck. u have unlocked a pandoras box

ok to preface: i do not hate aoc. i clocked over 100 hours in the original hyrule warriors and i think aoc is better, and the only reason i dont have as much playtime is due to the fact that i am not 11 with infinite free time forever anymore. for a dynasty warrior type game where spamming ur light combo chain is typically a viable option no matter what it is actually decently difficult (at least to me) and the skill trees are engaging. there are no characters that feel like an absolute slog and the campaign is fun, if short. it is a fun game. and there ARE some character interactions that are gold—notably, the ones between sidon and mipha are genuinely heartbreaking, the DLC scene with revali and tulin is the best shit to happen to his character ever, and this version of link and zelda are adorable, despite what im going to talk abt for the next like. hour

the inconsistences that ive noticed are ones that like. u guessed it. have to do with link and zelda. in botw, they're the ones with the most screentime, and therefore have more material to botch compared to the champions who are pretty simple to understand and don't have more than a few establishing scenes outside of the divine beasts. they serve to support the theme as simple anchors for the player to relate each area in the game with the story. in comparison, link and zelda carry the themes of botw on their backs

botw is About a lot of things, but the main About is healing from failure by finding connection and beauty in yourself and the people around you. the story is fundamentally set up on a tragedy—the apocalypse happens, a countless amount of innocent people die, and in hindsight it seems entirely preventable, but it happens anyway. the entire game purposefully and starkly contrasts this backstory with serene, peaceful, grassy landscapes and an anxiety-free method of story delivery. there's melancholic optimism in the fact that even the most world-ending disaster is moved past by trees and wildlife and people. this video is an excellent deconstruction if you want something to listen to for like, an hour. it phrases things better than i ever could (it also dives into what im going to say abt zelda as a character but hang on with me for a little bit). to paraphrase it, botw says "life is tenacious". but it's also kind of hard to grasp this, for an audience, when it's on such a magnitude---most people cannot relate to the calamity ravaging hyrule and forcing it into a state where it takes 100 years to heal as a failure. to actually convey the theme, it needs more personalized representations for the audience to connect with

zelda and link, as characters, show different failures and ways to react to them. before i start i want to say that when i say "failure" referring to them, im talking about what is considered by the people around them as a failure. zelda physically not being able to unlock her magic or link being like, an actual person, is not a failure. social construction and all that. the importance is them believing, perceiving, it to be a failure among themselves. capiche?

im going to talk about link first, because link is the foundation that zelda builds on. ive made posts about it before, but the way links backstory is constructed as a collection of clues that must be strung together by people who are dedicated to it is representative of him as a person, or at least who he used to be. link is a child soldier who draws the master sword at 12-13 years old and finds the weight of being one of two people with the responsibility of killing the prehistoric incarnation of hatred and death unceremoniously dropped on his shoulders. to cope with that, his response is absolute conformity. he shuts down so completely that he doesn't speak, or even emote, to anyone, for fear of not being what hyrule needs from the mythical hero of legend. he decides dehumanizing himself is easier than not living up to that expectation.

zelda is similar but different in some very key ways. she has a direct lineage tracing back to the goddess hylia, all of whose female descendents possess some form of holy sealing magic that vanquishes ganon. she loses her mother at age six and the king thinks it is a brilliant idea to give her one year to mourn before forcing her into trying to unlock her sealing magic via rigorous prayer and devotion. despite her best efforts, she finds she cannot conform, that she genuinely cannot do what people are asking her to. instead, she tries to put herself to use somewhere else, finding passion and connection in the sheikah and their ancient technology, and holds onto a spirit of individuality for 10 years straight.

the way zelda builds on link is in the fact that she has a character arc. eventually, after a while of hating and projecting insecurity onto link, who refuses to communicate back to her, she develops the courage to reach out an olive branch. with that, she finds connection and worth and, yeah, love. link opens up to her a little bit, but cannot bring himself to lower his facade completely. this uhhh fucking kills him. he dies (or, i guess, "falls" but the place they put him in was called the shrine of resurrection. he was dead). and zelda lives because this newfound connection and understanding was the key to unlocking her sealing magic, which saves both her and fort hateno. with link and zelda, pre-calamity, botw says "finding worth, connection, and love (im really trying to dodge amatonormativity please see my attempts . please) within yourself and others is the key to overcoming failure. by denying your own humanity and isolating, you're dooming yourself." zelda uses her connection and love to ward off the calamity for 100 years. basic magic of friendship stuff

link has more development in the fact that hes the personification of the literal land of hyrule itself and the themes come full circle by his death healing him in the same way the land healed after 100 years and only when he regains his connection to zelda, uninhibited by the restrictions he placed on himself pre-calamity, can he go help her blah blah blah thats largely unimportant because that's post-calamity stuff, which is irrelevant to aoc.

and god we JUST arrived at aoc im so sorry but i needed to explain all that to succinctly explain why i'm bothered by the way it writes these two. ok. you see all that i just splurged out? with help from all my brainworms and 500 hours of playtime? aoc does none of this.

aoc was kind of doomed from the beginning. botw being post-post-apocalypse is so important to its themes and narrative that everyone and their mom expected aoc to be the darkest zelda game ever released. it was marketed as a botw prequel--- the fleshed out story of the calamity, which, as i mentioned, ends with everyone including link fucking dying, and that was what people wanted out of it. i personally had suspicions back in, what, 2021? that it wasnt going to end on a note like that but everyone was largely hopeful that it was going to remain faithful and let us experience the story that was largely told through flashbacks in botw. this is not the case and it was so obviously not the case that i feel silly for believing otherwise, because its hyrule warriors, and more importantly, its a video game. they're not going to end a video game, especially not one in a genre which has a gameplay loop that relies on post-campaign content and grinding, on an unwinnable final boss. would it have been metal as fuck? yes. but from an actual game content standpoint, where they want to reward the player for more playtime? not gonna happen.

so already were off to a bad start. but an everyone lives no one dies au isn't the worst case scenario, i suppose. but. um.

aoc not only straight up does not include the important parts of link's backstory that i mentioned (that is, the fact that he is deathly anxious and traumatized and that this is the reason why he's quiet), but it also doesn't really... have a pronounced "zelda finds connection" arc. at least, it's not notable enough for me to remember it. sure, she grows closer to link, and her love of him is still what unlocks her magic, but she never despises him like she started out doing in botw. there's little to no projection in a way that emphasizes her independence and self-respect that's in conflict with her self-loathing. there's no interpersonal conflict to link's conformity that makes them thematic foils. this all makes her revelation in fort hateno where link originally dies much less potent, discounting the fact that originally the result of her revelation gives her the strength to hold back hatred incarnate for 100 years. but that doesn't happen either because as we've established this is an everyone lives nobody dies au and link's character arc goes unfulfilled as well because, well, everybody lives.

for all the time travel stuff is weird and the egg is a retcon and king rhoam's death is set up as a sacrifice and then later rug pulled for the sake of another playable character (and also sympathy-baiting) its what ive mentioned above that grinds my gears the most because my favorite thing about botw is its themes and the way it handles them in relation to link, zelda, and the open world gameplay. and age of calamity doesnt tick any of those boxes. so while there are more gaping plot holes or nitpicks i could make, i don't really think theyre worthwhile in comparison to the issues ive described. thats why i cant love it the way i love botw and am loving totk right now, even though its technically part of the trilogy. its fun to think about in isolation, and it doesnt ruin everything the way a movie like httyd3 does, but it's also one massive "they would not fucking say that" which bothers me occasionally

woo. there u go. hopefully u had fun hearing

[starlightkun]

hi, i was rereading your sleepless cinderella fics, as one does, when i noticed a weird inconsistency!!! i was on yangyang’s route, when the reader visits the lounge area for the first time in a while and is trying to remember what occupation yangyang has, when the reader says they recall meeting seven men. i think it’s supposed to be six, but idk!!! i know u have a note on the top about there potentially being errors and to let u know, so i just wanted to see if i’m crazy or not. i love your fics though!!! i go back to them all the time… u have so many classics that i adore, and reading them again brings me so much comfort. i also love tuning into all your new releases!!! ur the biggest sungchan fan i know… i feel influenced… swayed…

ahhh ur so right that should totally say six at that part thank you!!! all fixed now! sleepless cinderella truly is such a classic im still so fond n so proud of that one esp now that i made those edits.....

and honestly can i just say i feel like so many readers only browse by new and are only looking for the newest fics and read stuff once and never just sit with fics and absorb them i partially blame tiktok/booktok for that but dont get me started on the commodification of reading and fanworks etc etc and are 1) unwilling to go back to find and read older/unfinished works and 2) reread stuff they've already read,, while i think ppl tend to think they're coming from a good place when they comment asking authors for more fics, it can be draining being treated like a content farm when ur just a person sharing stuff u really like. it's just really refreshing to hear from the people who come and say "i found your blog through [insert older fic]" or "i reread x fic all the time, it's so comforting" like those r the ones that really make me feel good, because it makes the days and months that i put into these fics feel like they have more permanence to people than just the hour or two they spend reading them once and then never thinking abt them again.

i guess that was my roundabout, long way of saying thank you, really 🫶 i like knowing when people read my fics over n over, which are their favorites, which are their comfort fics (which, the idea just makes me melt every single time), which were their first, and which ones they still think abt even long after the first time they read them

and not to brag or anything......but last time i checked like idk a week ago 12% of the jung sungchan/reader tag on ao3 are my fics. there are only 33 fics in that tag, so it's 4/33, but still.....12% 😎😎😎

im so happy ur tuning into my new releases too, im so so proud of the stuff i've been putting out, they've been like my favorite stuff i've ever written both technically and from a creative standpoint in terms of worldbuilding, characters, and the relationships (romantic and platonic), and i'm so excited for what i've got planned too this kun sci-fi au will be so much longer than i first expected but if i can pull it off it's going to be. insane. possibly the starlightkun fic ever

[honeytonedhottie]

Hi love. So just wanting your opinion. I’ve been spiritual for a while and last year I met this guy who’s prob the most spiritual person I know consider my other friends. It started as a crush but for other reasons we stayed friends. And I’m super glad to have spiritual people like that around me. It’s something I’ve been wanting since forever.

I’m now at the place when I highly consider who’s good to be around me, I count things I don’t want and things I want. And one thing I def don’t want is inconsistency. I don’t like to wonder about people, I like to count on them not only about big things but also small things such as knowing we’re going for the coffee we scheduled a week ago and didn’t forget. So consistency also involves being true to your word and actions.

Anyway this guy travels a lot as he didn’t find his base yet so while he was in another country he didn’t even text me once, which is not only inconsistent in terms of actions but also inconsistent in terms of his feelings.. since he says I mean so much to him and he’s never had a person who understood him like I do and our connection is super spiritual and deep..but how is he cherishing and valuing that when he doesn’t remember to send a tiny text while he’s in another country? So this pissed me off cause if I mean so much to him I expect him to act like it.

Recently he moved back so he texted me saying he knows he’s terrible for not texting me all this time but wants to ‘regain my trust’ and ‘fix our relationship’ to which I replied saying my needs are to have consistent people around me otherwise I don’t trust. He said he will try but even now when two days passed I don’t see him showing consistency.

So inspired by your post you made about next year, you wrote to be careful who we surround ourselves with.. so I’m sitting here contemplating, should I just tell him to F off and that I no longer believe him since he’s not showing signs of consistency or should I give him more time?

I don’t want to be bitter when we meet cause i don’t like being vibrationally low but I think my anger and disappointment is valid, and at the same time I have people pleasing tendencies so if I see him sad while we meet I’ll basically forgive him even though he didn’t show consistency yet. But how do I stick to my boundaries without sounding mean?

a way to stick to ur boundaries without being mean is by making them clear and communicating them clearly. do it in a tone that doesn't suggest that ur being mean, but also make sure that the tone u use suggests that ur being serious.

i believe that people will reveal themselves to u thru their ACTIONS and the longer that u know someone, the more that they will subconsciously reveal aspects about their character. in this case, if you've never witnessed him doing this before and hes just starting to then that probably means that hes just now showing you his true colors and its good that u noticed 💗💗

but now the decision is up to you if you'll stick around or move onto better things, hes already shown u his character. honestly, stick to ur boundaries and what u value bcuz you'll be SO much happier for it in the long run and thats all that matters

i recommend u separate urself from that situation so that u dont stay vibrationally low 🧿🧿🧿

[mysicklove-main]

Is there anything else you wanna rant about with “your new pack” ?

u just want me to make-out with u don't u 🙄 🙄🙄

but yes sure i can talk for hours, especially since im working on the next chpt currently. (might take bout a week to post tho considering im so busy)

for everyone else not reading this fic, I will post your requests and other stuff after i finish the next chapter!!!

to begin with, i dont know how the hell to make everyone have equal amount of time shown. I want everyone to like all characters, but i accidentally write way more for specific characters than others which is unfair i feel to my (very fictional characters who dont give a fuck) boys. for example, think bout how much we see Keigo compared to Izuku. Its just hard to do it with 5 different ppl so.

I want to rewrite all my beginning chapters bc I feel like i rushed it thinking it was going to be a short story. But here i am, 79k+ words in and the beginning i feel is so so so bad. like i can't even reread it bc i cringe. but i am also so lazy and rlly dont want to rewrite it lol so i just pretend it doesn't exist.

comments, mean way too much to me. Like all writers i love getting a notification that someone commented on my fic, but now its getting to the point where im like, "damn this chpt didn't get many comments, did i do something wrong?" so that's embarrassing and i def need to chill and be grateful for what i have. Im working on it.

Eijiro, Izuku, Shoto are so fucking hard to write and Katsuki and Keigo are so easy to write. Its so strange that im struggling with Izuku, bc he is my favorite, but im trying to show that he is a little fucked up from his past but I also dont want to write him as super quiet. Idk i feel like i kinda brushed off his trauma and i didn't mean to. so that sucks. with Eijiro his actions are easy, simply cause i wrote him as someone to be very touchy and affectionate off the bat. plus he talks alot so. but his internal thoughts are so fucking difficult to write. like what are you thinking bout?? you know she is your mate, but he is trying to get his best friend to get with you. it is so hard. Shoto is the complete opposite. I dont know how the hell he would react in different situations, bc he is more quiet out of the boys, but I want to also show that he is also trying his best too. his deranged thoughts are easy to do, but everything else is a wreck. i think he is the hardest to write for by far.

speaking of shoto his character is so inconsistent. idk if ppl notice, but i do. in the beginning his is more obsessive and has the most negative thoughts. he kinda crazy, u feel me? now, i dont write as much of his creepy perverted thoughts. i just kinda forget to. so now he feels kinda bland and i need to figure out how to bring back some excitement back to his character. maybe this chapter ill go back to the creepy, obsessive, thoughts. it was so fun to write. this all goes back to how hard shots is to write.

I switch perspectives alot and I hope ppl understand what's going on and who is thinking what. I think I have a mix of second person (obvi, with the "you") and 3rd person. bc i narrate others reactions to the situations, and kinda treat Y/N as a character in the story, not as your self. does that make sense??? idk.

since hybrid stories are my fav, i would like to write more, but in different scenarios. for example, another Y/N x Wolf! Katsuki fic, but this katsuki would be a diff one from the other wolf katsuki in Your New Pack. Like i did with the Bunny! Izuku Headcannons. That izuku is diff than Your New Pack one. but would ppl be bored of it?? ik i will never lol.

i wish i could post a poll on who ppl like the best on ao3, just bc im curious who has the most fanboys. (it would prob be keigo tho lol)

i got bored of katsuki wearing the muzzle in the house, so i just trashed it. def poor writing thing to do, but idc at this point, it would throw off my plans for chpts if he was always wearing the muzzle.

sorry i talk alot, but hey u asked for it.

[wincore]

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff 

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of. 

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low. 

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours. 

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget. 

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore. 

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume. 

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type. 

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises.  If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts. 

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself. 

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask. 

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it. 

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it. 

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.  

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily. 

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year. 

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately. 

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one. 

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt. 

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover. 

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours. 

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth. 

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words. 

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.  

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table. 

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad. 

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back. 

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing. 

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters. 

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs. 

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.���

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.” 

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can. 

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off. 

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating. 

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know. 

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young. 

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It���s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.” 

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling. 

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung. 

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses. 

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention. 

Inviting him somewhere. 

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure. 

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more. 

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter? 

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.  

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him. 

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.” 

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.” 

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.” 

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts. 

You’re disappointing. 

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose. 

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps. 

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask. 

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you. 

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue. 

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.” 

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you. 

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families. 

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe. 

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard. 

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them. 

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out. 

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure. 

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up. 

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt. 

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart. 

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it. 

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him. 

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak. 

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.  

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time. 

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional. 

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love. 

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved. 

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding. 

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either. 

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next  meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple. 

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action. 

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t. 

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days. 

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.” 

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by. 

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers. 

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever. 

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout. 

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!” 

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?” 

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this. 

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose. 

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond. 

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—” 

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder. 

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him. 

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too. 

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again. 

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling. 

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you. 

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care. 

 “Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there. 

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally. 

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer. 

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand. 

[irkenheretic]

2, 5, 9, 13

2: Do you focus on attention to detail when you read fics? Are you more or less attention to detail focussed when you write fics?

when i read? ehhh, fairly? there are some pet peeves i have that are in the grand scheme of things, inconsequential and tiny little details (zim isnt allergic to WATER hes allergic to the POLLUTION IN THE WATER) but other than that its just, i dont notice any "discrepancies" ig on my first go-around but if i read, say, a multichapter multiple times i start to notice things like character inconsistencies and plot holes, but if i read it that many times it means i already love it, and those things wont stop me from liking it still

and my fics have way too much fucking detail in them i could make a whole post about the music scene in annexed. im making a conlang. someone stop me. the weird thing is i have a good deal of oneshots that bank on Telling You Fucking Nothing (trials, for one, and one im sitting on for now)

5: Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

i love u first off. theres a line from a fic called hum that im really proud of but it doesnt really make much sense without context

but this paragraph from The First Annexed Fic is good i think

The thing could easily be described as being the size of an Earth cantaloupe— but, since Red didn’t know what either of those things were, he internally described it as about the same size as one Irken egg. It was a dark plum color, darker than the pictures he saw in smeet school, with darker flecks all over it. It resembled its layer with an uncanny similarity that left Red in awe— there was no denying the thing was a product of his own biology, as he gaped at it in the Medic’s arms, small and innocuously holding a little life inside of it, blissfully unaware of the implications of its existence.

9: Are there any fics you’d love to see but don’t want to write yourself? What are they?

more razr? more fucking razr? spare razr anyone? or razf. please. why doesnt anyone write rapr anymore either all the good fics r from like, the 2010s

13: Do you prefer writing multi-chapter fics or single-part fics? Do you prefer reading multi-chapter fics or single-part fics?

this one is a very "it depends" thing, honestly. i sure do prefer thinking up long multichapter epics (like annexed) but i have more fun with quick n dirty oneshots but its like. fuck it! im gonna do annexed anyway and i think ive found a style that basically makes every scene kind of like a oneshot so theres that at least? wrt reading, i love me a good multichapter but some multichaps kinda lose me at some point, but some are fucking amazing! even when i like a multichapter, theres usually a part i deem my "favorite" and i just read that chapter/those chapters over n over again lmao, take of that what you will

[coletteuwu]

helllo hello hellooooooo~

today i have decided to rank my favourite starkid+tbc musicals :)

now please keep in mind that these are based on my opinions & you have every right to agree/disagree, just don't be a dick to anyone and enjoy

(i havent seen ani, starship nor mamd, so these wont be included here)

#10 The Trail To Oregon!

nothing wrong with it, just not my cup of tea

good idea tho

your wagon is on fiREEE is iconic

humour was inconsistent and overall a bit too childish for my taste

boring

#9 Twisted

this is really controversial, but i practically fell asleep while watching it (maybe because i didnt grow up as a disney fan in a post-communist country)

dylan saunders did an amazing job and i love his singing and he kinda was carrying the whole show (yikes)

costume design was on point tho

also "no one remembers achmed" is one of my fave starkid songs

#8 Holy Musical B@man!

i actually dont have any criticism for hmb, because i think its very well executed and jokes are... good... i guess...

a pretty neutral one, bc the songs were kinda mediocre and so was the humour but i really liked joe walker as batman and nick lang as robin

batman has a cool plane

#7 Black Friday

the new style of the lang brothers is very cool and exciting

the plot was very well written, but it felt a bit,,, rushed?

like they were trying to cram tons of information into one play and for that reason i dont really come back to watch it

and at the same time the pace was a little too slow for my liking?

idk it felt a little off

but characters were iconic, acting was 12/10 (especially joey, lauren and dylan)

#6 Solve It Squad

ACTING ON POINT

comedy was well timed and relevant

brosenthal's scene where he plays all the hotel staff just left me like this -> :o

one of joey's best roles

lauren too

#5 AVPSY

the thing is, initially i wanted to put all the avp parts together but that would have been hard to catch so i guess we're doing this

t h e s o n g s (❤️❤️❤️❤️)

AJ delivers such a good lockhart

joey's sidekick is just mwah

the songs are just so fcking good ahh

they got the real luna!

really emotional

the best ending to the trilogy

in the middle i kinda skipped some scenes bc i got a little carried away

but the ending is just so GOOD

everything has an end.... (i cried a lot guys)

jeff's spider was i m m a c u l a t e

both brians & joe walker 😳❤️

i didnt like the scripts for the first 10 seconds but then after that i didnt even notice them

#4 AVPS

one of the best intros in starkid (if we cannot move forward, why shouldn't we move back? gives me chills everytime)

lucius malfoy is so hot and terrifying at the same time idk if im scared or turned on

story was a little inconsistent and i missed quirrell and the lack of brian rosenthal, but thats okay i can settle for a seamus finnigan

JOE WALKER IN A DRESS. THATS IT THATS THE TWEET.

ron is canonically bicurious????

comedy on point

the best soundtracks in starkid, come @ me im not scared to fight

like for real who wrote the music i just wanna hug them and give them every penny i got to work with them

#3 The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

lets get the criticism out of the way first

i see that they tried to write the music in the same theme, but some songs were repetitive and jeff's falsetto screaming kinda got boring

not your seed is not that good of a song

corey got me in the fEELS

joey's homeless man was iconic

first i didnt like paul's acting but it grew on me and now i love it

LET IT OUT IS THE BEST SONG OF THE PLAY. PERIODT.

the best written starkid show :)

comedy was, again, relevant and well timed

overall, i loved the simplicity of the design

prof. hidgens = hips™

#2 AVPM

i may be biased bc of nostalgia and bc it was the first starkid musical i ever saw but idc

not that well written, but its just so damn entertaining

QUIRRELMORT

different as can be is just chef's kiss

the chemistry between brian and joe is so good

I CAME HOME

*soft boi brian in a jail dress with a fist in his mouth*

everything just started from there

red vines

snape <3

STARKID POTTER, MOONSHOES POTTER

a gift that is lauren lopez as malfoy

the funniest starkid show idcidc

i was a huge potterhead growing up and hp is so important to my life -> thats why the avp trilogy means so much to me

#1 Spies Are Forever

i saw it recently and im mad i didnt watch it earlier

joey is so hot with a british accent

the history behind all of the show just makes it so good, 1950-60 was the scariest time to be gay and it portrays everything about living in the shadows of the cold war perfectly

choreo on point (thank you lauren)

mary kate as tatiana is very dangerous for my weak bi heart

good music

VERY WELL WRITTEN (PROPS TO BRIAN, COREY AND JOEY)

i really like spy movies so

the whole ordeal that is baron von nazi played by brian rosenthal, a jew

wizz waffle fries

glitter waka waka

i just really love brian rosenthal

the ending :'((((((

torture tango and one step ahead = thats some good shit

joe walker as deadliest man alive oh boy oh boy let me tell you about how much of a latte hottay he is in saf

i LOVE that tati and curt are in a platonic relationship, it just throws the stereotypes out of the window

the whole scene where joey and curt fight

[crimeronan]

when you mentioned that when reading u take mental characterisation notes for fanfic, how do you do that? when i read i dont really think and it often takes me a million read throughs to notice some things, and i wanna try thinking lol. im not necessarily looking for instructions, but more like description of your process?

oh!

some books are more complex than others re: this, i’m trying to figure out how to describe the Process since it’s something i tend to do pretty automatically

as i read, i pay attention to a few key elements that differentiate characters from one another, and i try to consider how their backstory may have informed these elements

how they think

how they interact with people

how they speak

how they feel

how transparent they are

habits, tics, mannerisms, etc

with how they think, i’m paying attention to, like - what are they observing around them?  what are they observing about their own thought processes?  how close is the POV narration?  are they picking up on things i wouldn’t notice?  are they NOT picking up on things i WOULD notice?  is their perspective flawed?  how much can i trust this narration?

with how they interact with people, i’m paying attention to all their social interactions - friends, family, strangers.  what social conventions do they adhere to or discard?  is it easy for them to get along with people?  does their demeanor change depending on the person they’re talking to?  how many people are they close to?  how many people THINK they’re close to them?  is it easy for them to make friends?  what about enemies?  what about their personality attracts or repels people?

with how they speak, i’m taking mental notes on their dialogue - the language they use, the way they compose sentences.  do they use words or expressions that other characters don’t?  do they swear more or less than other characters?  are there some words you’ll never catch them using?  how verbose are they?  do they use a lot of metaphor and illustrative language, or are they sparse and to the point?  is their use of language influenced by their culture or particular dialect?

with how they feel, i’m paying attention to both baseline emotions and reactions.  is this person generally happy, sad, angry?  are they satisfied or dissatisfied?  how quickly do they react to a situation?  are they more likely to make choices based on their emotions or their logic?  does their past trauma or their upbringing influence their emotional balances?  how self-aware is this character regarding their own feelings?  what about the feelings of others?

with how transparent they are, i’m thinking about the reliability of everything to do with their narration.  are they telling the truth when they speak?  are they obfuscating their own emotions?  what are they hiding, if anything?  are they keeping secrets for other people?  are there inconsistencies that raise questions?  what defense mechanisms do they use to guard their secrets?

and then habits and tics are just little unique characterization things to pick up on.  things the characters do that set them apart.  gestures, stims, stutters, routines, etc.

my background is in theater and writing; in both areas, these are the building blocks i use to create character.  whether i’m acting onstage or penning an OC, all of these elements come into play.  so i think about them a lot when i’m reading as well!

[draw-you-coward]

how to write more realistically

a general guide filled with things I’ve learned ;u;

Pacing of Sentences

let’s start with one of the most important things: syntax! since it’s going to dictate the voice in which your entire work is read, it’s important. people say “vary your sentence length”, but what do they mean? how do you know what to make short and what not to?

it’s actually not super hard! Make shorter actions or events have shorter sentences. drag a sentence out when you want what it’s describing to take a longer time. this works with dialogue, action, descriptions, everything. if you notice that a bunch of sentences are dragging, try to cut at least one up into two shorter ones. if you find everything . is happening. way too abruptly. then either stop using sentence fragments, or join too short sentences.

Pacing of what’s happening

this ties in with sentences! if your character is startled, they’re going to notice what’s startling them first and foremost. they’re not going to waste time thinking about the tree they’re under, or the weather, or what they had for breakfast, or how attractive their boyfriend is. if you’re writing from third person limited, which most people are, then make sure you only mention what is relevant to what is happening in that moment. you can describe the rest later or earlier!

think about it this way: if someone hit you, in that second that it happens, would you think about anything other than how you felt about it? you would go “ow, that hurt,” you would feel the pain, you would be surprised, maybe offended, angry, upset, etc. you wouldn't start reminiscing about how the sunset was the colour of blood and how that’s a metaphor for your tumultuous relationship with character B. again, that can happen later.

for action especially, make your sentences short! the shorter the sentence, the faster the action. Your character gets hit. They go down. They spit out blood, fingers curling in the dirt as they struggle to overcome their dizziness. they’re taking too long, and it’s costing them. make your syntax mirror what you’re writing.

Redundancy

try to be concise when you can. this doesn’t mean “barely write descriptive or purple prose.” it means “don’t say something in five words when you can say it in one.” you may write, he murmured softly. why? we know a murmur is soft - the extra descriptor is redundant. unless you’re really laying it on thick (which should be done incredibly sparingly if at all), it’s going to dam your flow.

this also applies to other things (epithets are a major one which should really be looked up separately. also watch for: inconsistency due to forced actions, repetitive actions, redundant descriptions) but overall what i said earlier is a good general rule to keep:

don’t say something in five words when you can say it in one. that’s fat to trim, not stuffing to keep.

Character dialogue

this is where I personally struggle the most, I find. generally, especially in fanfiction where you can’t hire someone to be like “stop.” , we tend to overindulge in writing dialogue. would someone really talk like that ? would a real life person say that sentence just to be part of a joke that sounds funny in your head but is weak on paper? no. they wouldn’t, sadly.

“but nae”, you say, “if i said that to my friends they’d laugh :(” i’m sure they would! that’s because it probably is funny, at least to someone. but you have to take a step back and ask yourself whether your readers are going to be amused, or if they just won’t get it. is it going to be awkward? does it read awkwardly? do your characters speak like people would actually talk, and does their dialogue work as individual lines instead of just with another person(s)?

think of it like this: if you can’t make a joke with a complete stranger in person and have them get it, your readers probably wouldn’t get it if you tried to make that joke in your writing. but don’t worry! people are everywhere . so overall...

just listen to them talk enough, and you can replicate it. make sure you listen for the awkward pauses, observe their body language, etc. the more of these details you add in, when it would fit the pacing, the more realistic your writing will be! i dont know how to end this or what else to add so i’m going to do that now !

as always, if you have anything to add or disagree with respectfully, please feel free to do so!

[zombiequincy]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all had witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

MUN NAME: Hela     AGE: 21       CONTACT: IM

CHARACTER(S): Giselle Gewelle, Yumichika Ayasegawa (inactive)

CURRENT FANDOM(S): Bleach

BLEACH FANDOM(S) YOU HAVE AN AU FOR:  I have gory Bloodborne au but that one just exists in my head on my lonesome.

MY LANGUAGE(S): English and one very specific Middle Eastern dialect.

THEMES I’M INTERESTED IN FOR RP: FANTASY / Science fiction / Horror / WESTERN / ROMANCE / Thriller / MYSTERY / DYSTOPIA / ADVENTURE / MODERN / Erotic / Crime / MYTHOLOGY / Classic / HISTORY / RENAISSANCE / MEDIEVAL / Ancient / WAR / FAMILY / POLITICS / RELIGION / SCHOOL / ADULTHOOD / CHILDHOOD / APOCALYPTIC / GODS / Sport / MUSIC / Science / FIGHTS / ANGST / Smut / DRAMA / etc. 

PREFERRED THREAD LENGTH: one-liner / 1 para / 2 PARA / 3+ / NOVELLA.

ASKS CAN BE SEND BY: MUTUALS / NON-MUTUALS / PERSONALS / ANONS.

CAN ASKS BE CONTINUED?:   YES / NO    only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO.

PREFERRED THREAD TYPE: CRACK / casual nothing too deep / SERIOUS / DEEP AS HECK. (i love it all sorry I am quite the mixed bag lmao)

IS REALISM / RESEARCH IMPORTANT FOR YOU IN CERTAIN THEMES?:   YES / NO. i gotta know what certain human body parts taste like u know

ARE YOU ATM OPEN FOR NEW PLOTS?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.

DO YOU HANDLE YOUR DRAFT / ASK - COUNT WELL?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. it’s SO BAD FOR ME RN ASGLDKJDJKA i’m very inconsistent i’m so sorry.

HOW LONG DO YOU USUALLY TAKE TO REPLY?: 24H / 1 WEEK / 2 WEEKS / 3+ / months / years. / a lot of it has more to do w my general writing mood and if the thread im writing catches my interest, and rn im writing a TON of really wonderful and fascinating threads so they’re all super captivating for me and i try to reply asap

I’M OKAY WITH INTERACTING: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / MY FANDOM / CROSSOVERS / MULTI-MUSES / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYALS / AU-VERSIONS.

DO YOU POST MORE IC OR OOC?: IC / OOC. (i have a lot of stupid shit sorry) 

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WITH FOLLOWING OTHERS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

BEST WAYS TO APPROACH YOU FOR RP/PLOTTING: just send me a tumblr instant message, i know it sucks shit but im not comfy releasing my discord w everyone just yet cause i use it for personal use as well. i check tumblr on the daily so if you send me a message chances are i’ll see it and respond!

WHAT EXPECTATIONS DO YOU HOLD TOWARDS YOUR PLOTTING PARTNER:  i guess just be able to put up with my rambling and stopping and starting, a lot of characterisation choices i do go through various stages and its pretty messy so when i communicate that with others it usually ends up equally messy. just be patient with me please.

WHEN YOU NOTICE THE PLOTTING IS RATHER ONE-SIDED, WHAT DO YOU DO?:  i don’t mind! sometimes ppl have more ideas that they want to share first and i’m always super happy to listen to those ideas !! sometimes its nice to have someone with a clear guide or structure and be able to work around that rather than trying to fumble through a plot together.

HOW DO YOU USUALLY PLOT WITH OTHERS, DO YOU GIVE INPUT OR LEAVE MOST WORK TOWARDS YOUR PARTNER?:  i try to map out some basic info abt their characters that i otherwise don’t know from their bio or verses and try to pick out points of confrontation or similarities to expand on with giselle that can be used as points for like a starter to happen. its either that or sometimes i have really stupid ideas i just toss out there like ‘LMAO THEYRE BREAKING SHIT AT DISNEYLAND’ and go buck wild from there if the other person is down. i also always try to warn people or get a gauge for what subjects to avoid and steer clear of considering that giselle is a bit of a Freak(tm) and will say and do bad things.

WHEN A PARTNER DROPS THE THREAD, DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if there’s something giselle did or said that upset you, i would love to know not to repeat it again (since i do still feel pretty new to the rp game, theres still plenty of time for me to make stupid mistakes). if its just a general lack of interest or uncertainty of where the plot should go, then you dont have to tell me i wont take it personally i promise ! 

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD YOU TO DROP A THREAD?: sometimes i can be made uncomfortable by certain things mentioned... it happens but its rare 

- WILL YOU TELL YOUR PARTNER?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. i don’t want to upset anyone personally and sometimes explaining the ins and outs of my discomfort make things ten times worse so i just. would rather not.

IS COMMUNICATION IN THE RPC IMPORTANT TO YOU? YES / NO.

- AND WHY?: i am the most nervous person you can meet and my brain is always giving me misinfo abt paranoia and random shit so i having clear concrete communication between two parties abt if something is going wrong or is being received poorly means the world to me.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH ABSOLUTE HONESTY, EVEN IF IT MAY MEANS HEARING SOMETHING NEGA1TIVE ABOUT YOU AND/OR PORTRAYAL?: i need it !! i still feel relatively new to all this and i need to know whats going wrong to improve !! 

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SUCH SITUATION IN A MATURE WAY? YES / NO.

WHY DO YOU RP AGAIN, IS THERE A GOAL?: to help with my confidence in writing! i have v bad anxiety when it comes to sharing my works and i write a lot of other pieces alongside this blog on ao3 and i want to develop my writing skills just in general. when it comes to like the nuts and bolts of why i rp giselle specifically, its mainly to just have fun and have a laugh w my friends who are really awesome quincy writers

WISHLIST, BE IT PLOTS OR SCENARIOS:  OH SO MANY! ive managed to fulfil a lot of my wishlist threads with like, giselle talking to characters she’s already zombified and i love all that angst but i want to do more stupid shit. i want to make it my personal goal to bully every quincy man and woman on sight. although a REAL dream would be if i got to write a thread zombifying a character who managed to escape giselle’s clutches. and more fighting! i want to get better at describing action and fights and i love to write giselle getting beat up and beating people up! more more more!! 

THEMES I WON’T EVER RP / EXPLORE:   hohoho theres a LOT... uh r*pe/dubcon threads for one, even if yeah i know writing it doesnt condone it, it makes me intensely uncomfortable to put my muse in that scenario, i feel like i have an obligation to like, protect her from that shit you know? racism is one i don’t want to transgress, even though i’m a poc, its not really cathartic or groundbreaking to write abt racism in threads its just... really fucking upsetting. also i know the quincy’s have this very close parallel to the whole n*zi imagery and ideology thing going on and i am not about to start even daring to thread that into my writing or bring those allusions and references of real life tragedies into giselle’s threads. i’ve already talked at length abt exploring giselles trans identity in rp and why im not comfortable doing so, so.... yeah! all those i guess.

WHAT TYPE OF STARTERS DO YOU PREFER / DISLIKE, CAN’T WORK WITH?: i like starters where giselle can just immediately get right into being a piece of shit. mise en scene and all that! cut out the build up and just get to the intense horror !! i don’t like starters where its not immediately clear where the characters are standing and what they’re doing and what’s happening around them. those really disorientate me and leave me kinda floundering because i always need some allusion or mention of a setting to ground giselle in a time and place other wise i cant tell what her response should be

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE MOST?:  EVIL WOMEN EVIL WOMEN EVIL WOMEN. also just characters i can wholeheartedly clown on, or also characters who have hidden depths to them and have a single panel of screentime. honestly it’s just all over the place!

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE LEAST?:  angry old men GSADJDKSJA i could never rp yhwach for example or yamamoto because idk. theyre just so crummy and boring to me. i also couldnt rp characters who always have an upper hand in battle like aizen. i like my dumbasses and i like them stupid and adaptive not just, ‘yes i know this because i Know this.’

WHAT ARE YOUR STRONG ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: i think im nice...? FKSJDKDJSA idk i hate trying to toot my own horn. sometimes i also think i make funny jokes and im pretty chill and laid back

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAK ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: my writing style is inconsistent and adapts to whatever i’m reading so sometimes it’ll be really good and i love it and other times it reads like really bad fanfic and i get carried away far too easily and write novella lengths for threads which should be much shorter. i also get shy a lot and dont think i communicate very effectively but HEYO we’re working on it!

DO YOU RP SMUT?:  YES / NO/ DEPENDS. haven’t had anybody brave enough to try yet lol

DO YOU PREFER TO GO INTO DETAIL?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH BLACK CURTAIN?: YES / NO.

- WHEN DO YOU RP SMUT? MORE OUT OF FUN OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?: more for fun i’d imagine because that’s just giselles own attitude to sex and relationships where she doesnt want anything deep. it might show character development in one way of just showing how she regards others in a romantic sense to be used rather than actually appreciated as their own person and show how selfish she is but yeah, more out of fun

- ANYTHING YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO RP THERE?:  theres a few kinks and such but i dont think they’d ever really come up. again, just mainly no r*pe/dubcon.

ARE SHIPS IMPORTANT TO YOU?:   YES / NO lets hope this doesn’t make me sound like an asshole, but its more like a fun little side thing than anything important to giselle’s actual development and characterisation. 

WOULD YOU SAY YOUR BLOG IS SHIP-FOCUSED?: YES / NO. again, hardly anyone is brave enough to try to romance this evil cannibal.

DO YOU USE READ MORE?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES WHEN I WRITE LONG STUFF.

ARE YOU:  MULTI-SHIP / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  MULTIVERSE / Singleverse.

- WHAT DO YOU LOVE TO EXPLORE THE MOST IN YOUR SHIPS?: more how giselle likes to give over her power or dominate in different circumstances depending on who she’s with and what’s being done. BUT AGAIN, not a whole lot to explore yet.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS?: YES / NO. - i mean im down for p much anything if it vibes w giselle.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOUR MUSE INTERESTING TOWARDS OTHERS, WHY SHOULD THEY RP WITH THIS PARTICULAR CHARACTER OF YOURS NOW, WHAT POSSIBLE PLOTS DO THEY OFFER?: if you want an evil woman to taunt and mock and hurt your muse, she’s your gal. you want her to zombify and ruin your muse, shes also your gal. you want her to insult and maim and injure, she’s also YOUR GAL. basically, if you want to do anything fucked up or sad or scary, she can help with that.

- WITH WHAT TYPE OF MUSES DO YOU USUALLY STRUGGLE TO RP WITH?:  uh muses who get really angry quickly or don’t rise or respond to her jabs and are just kinda like a flatline. theres only so much pestering and annoying she can do until realises its not working and just wanders off

- WHAT DO THEY DESIRE, IS THEIR GOAL?:  to find a goal worth living for.

- WHAT CATCHES THEIR INTEREST FIRST WHEN MEETING SOMEONE NEW?:  appearance she always takes an interest in girls almost right away. age as well because she judges old people. 

- WHAT DO THEY VALUE IN A PERSON?:  a good set of guts to ruin and strong muscles.

- WHAT THEMES DO THEY LIKE TALKING ABOUT?:  women, gore, murder, herself, music, stupid memes, gossip.

- WHICH THEMES BORE THEM?:  politics, history, quincy ideology, soul reaper ideology, hollow physiology.

- DID THEY EVER WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC?:  her family tried to force the burden of upholding the quincy lineage onto her shoulders, she was thrown into the wrong prison and held in isolation, then pressured to become an undying monster in service of a god and then was nearly killed by that same man and left wandering without guidance or purpose. so, yeah?

- WHAT COULD LEAD TO AN INSTANT KILL?:  transphobia. even a whiff of it in her direction and she’ll gut you like a fish.

- IS THERE SOMEONE /-THING THEY HATE?:  the twink soul reaper who outted her.

IS YOUR MUSE EASY TO APPROACH?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  if you’re smart, you’ll bring a big bone for her to chew on and distract her while you ask whatever you want.

SOMETHING YOU MAY STILL WANT TO POINT OUT ABOUT YOUR MUSE?: i love my evil queen!

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  @bazzardburner​ cheers chicken boy !!

Tagging: @hyouketsu​ @blooming5th​ @viciousvizard​ @glacies-tempestatem​ and whoever else wishes to do this!!

[tumblunni]

Why is gyan amakano so cute. It should be illegal. I hate how he has such a huggable design and then his character is totally wasted on being half super evil jerkman half Every Fat Stereotype Simultaneously. Like seriously how did this even HAPPEN

Artist: ok so ive drawn this round softman in a cute lil fancy tuxedo who always carries lollipops in his back pocket

Writers: ah yes, the perfect Irredeemable Murder Cannibal Man

Or like..

Writers: we need an Irredeemable Murder Cannibal Man

Artist: dont worry bro i got ya *draws a big circle with a happy face*

Or of course theres the alternative universe where nobody involved in this project ever noticed that this character design looks fuckin precious, but i dont want to live in that world

And then he's only in!! Two episodes!! And theyre so weird and not great!! Its like they kept changing their mind whether he was meant to be funny or scary. Goes from "ha ha a fat man enjoys cookies" to "he literally wants to make cannibal cookies out of humans" to "but ha ha look he's cosplaying as the genie from aladdin, lets go back to laughs now".

And also they made him be a huge jerk to Are Bacchino and that pisses me off!! Its already a bit shitty that they made a character whose entire "joke" is that he has ocd/germaphobia and its meant to be funny? Somehow? That he has this mental illness? And is frequently exposed to stuff that terrifies him?? Funny how???? But then theres a really rather disturbing montage of Gyan punishing his sidekick by straight up triggering his phobia and YIKES MAN sorry thats even more evil than the cannibalism! Also why was it drawn all overly detailed and Saw-esque?? Why did we need so much art effort put into showing dirty feet and a guy being forced to stick his hand in a shit filled toilet. Was this someone's goddamn fetish or something???

So yeah. Upset.

U P S E T T I. R E G R E T T I.

I'm so mad they wasted a cool character deisgn and cool concept on such a shitty execution. Like even the plot could have been cool? They could have got a lot more episodes out of the idea of these two runnibg thru fairytale books and cosplaying as different classic villains. And if theyd just made a damn decision and gone with either funny cute or scary bad then it could have worked! Personally i am voting for funnycute obv course. But also thatd work best with this plot, it would have been better if it was just a low stakes goofy adventure with something like "oh this dude wants to find the legendary magic wish thingie to wish for a lifetime supply of chocolate and our heroes wanna wish for something actually important so thats why they fight". Could have even added some drama cos like he doesnt know the thing is actually dangerous and then what if he ends up possessed by it and you still get a fight with him thats pretty high stakes without having this weird inconsistant personality thing. Could be quite a dramatic twist to suddenly have comedy villain man as a genuine threat! Ans could be a way to resolve it all with friendship cos you could have Are Bacchino teaming up with the heroes to save his boss and then Gyan is like "whoa i guess you guys were 100% right all along" when he gets saved from his own bigass mistake and all. And then THE GAMES COULD ACTUALLY MAKE HIM PLAYABLE PERHAPS, JUST SAYIN

Also PLEASE rewrite like every single thing about the relationship between the two of them. Please take whoever said "yeah gyan should outright torture his one and only friend with a messed up Saw movie ocd-triggering machine" and throw them out the window. Consider this: what if..they were actually...friend. Like i feel they'd have enough comedy potential already just from being a "rival mafia" thats literally two people who are ludocrously incompetant at everything they do and only ever succeed at (literally) stealing candy from babies. Play up that side of things more! No need to throw random super evil shit at the funnymen to make them seem more intimidating, theyre at their best when theyre not intimidating at all. And you could still have the same gag of the fairytale world forms always being Gyan as some sort of classic villain and Are as a talking carpet or whatever, like just say thats how the magic works instead of Gyan doing it on purpose to be a jerk. And you could even still have Are being the funny underdog just from sheer bad luck instead of being purpisely mistreated by every single character in the entire cast. Or have it that Gyan is just a bit of a bumbling idiot boss who doesnt notice his mistakes and Are is like the hypercompetant sidekick who always ends up taking the consequences of those mistakes because he's like an overportective bodyguard. Which could also be a way to establish some cute friendship moments! Like i dunno someone's about to throw a pie at Gyan and Are does an overdramatic diving save and a whole fake death scene from the sheer horror of getting banana cream frosting on his suit. "Boss...go on without me..." *cough choke* And Gyan is like *equally overdramatic tears* "He made the ultimate sacrifice! I will avenge him!!" *charges forward to fight the heroes and just gets easily beat up like usual* And then its like *even more continually dramatic narration* "and the boss was beaten and bruised, but he carried me for miles through wind and storm" *over footage of like ridiculously impossible heroic adventures thay clearly didnt happen* And then it just cuts to the two of them sitting at like...ye olde fantasy laundromat. Are sobbing like "oh boss i'll never forget this" and Gyan is just like *thought bubble* "i wish i got to eat that pie tho"

I dunno maybe im naive but i just think shows are generally more fun when characters actually like each other and have motivations beyond self interest. Obvipusly not EVERY character has to be like that, but nobody is ever kind at all in the damn anime whether theyre villain or hero. And also specifically these sorts of minor role villains can benefit a lot from being fleshed out this way to become way more memorable! Like gin and kin became way better in Psychic Specters when they got the added trait of loving and cherishing their little brother. (To the point of it being a literal battle power that made their horribly hard boss fight even worse, lol!)

Also just...plz dont make a man so cute if hes meant to be big badness. Like seriously Are looks scarier than him and Are is like the least scary man to ever have those scary ass eyes! Smol depressed man with ocd and tol round lollipops friendo. I WANT TO LOVE THEM

Im gonna just cross my arms and sit here stubbornly hoping for The Anime/Game Effect to kick in. Like 99% of all characters in the anime are jerks and even when anime originals end up cameoing in the games they tend to become generally nicer and more well developed as people. So fingers crossed for a yw4 appearance thats full cute and 0% cannibalism!!!

Seriously fuckin.. CANNIBALISM

Why does the anime do that so much as a "funny" "joke"? The episode where Jerry murders a sentient dessert yokai in graphic gory detail still haunts me. "Ha ha its funny because technically theres no blood so we can show her gasping for breath with a hole in her lungs as a man eats her corpse" Did they put the entire budget into that one death animation??? Oh no cos they saved at least a little of it for the Herbiboy Gets Murdered By A Lawnmower episode T_T

Anime why u be this way.

[himurakenshin]

ok ko storyboarders

ok so i made a post talking about some stuff i really loved about ok ko and one thing i wanted to bring up was all the styles of the storyboarders! in this i’ll talk about each of them and their styles individually. maybe in another post i’ll talk about the dynamic of the pairs because this post on its own is insanely long and adding that would make it even longer

also everything here is subjective

geneva

so one of the first things ive noticed with geneva’s style is how... on model she is (next to ryann). i find it to be really interesting seeing how everyone has taken their liberties with ian allowing them to go off model and she’s stayed the most accurate to the style. 

for the most part, i really like how she draws! i feel like the best part about her style is the improvements that she’s made over the course of the first season. the way she currently draws ko is just a little bit more off model than usual, but that’s literally only due to the height of his hair. it’s really good to see that she’s making the ok ko style into her own.

(episode 44 to episode 13 (the first episode she worked on and produced))

i would point out the poses of some of the characters but i feel like i cant since she’s gotten much better at it. none of the silhouettes of the characters she’s drawn nowadays seem very closed or stiff, they express much more than in the earlier episodes!

mira

out of all the other storyboarders, mira seems to go the most off model. it’s very very anime-esque and generally feels very fancy? i’ve noticed that in most (or maybe all) of the episodes she’s boarded, she’s also done the fight scenes that were in it and she’s really good at it! they’re all really smooth and expressive and its clear that she puts quite some thought into her poses like this one.

they both have really clear silhouettes and i love the simple shapes incorporated with them.

she seems to have an issue with facial variety, seeing as everyone she draws seems to have big eyes, big cheeks, and only rarely does she ever draw a circular head with the eyes not hanging over the side of the face. its also a little apparent to me that expressions are not her strong suit, which is a little essential when it comes to a show as exaggerated as ok ko.

these are all from 4 completely different episodes. they all have big cheeks and big eyes and that seems to be about it when it comes to her humanoid characters

ryann

ryann’s style is really cute and gives a nice contrast to parker’s without it seeming like a really big shift. they usually board more wholesome scenes and succeed at it because of how adorable the characters are in her style.

ko also tends to act much cuter with her scenes and more like a child which is something i really really like a lot about her style. i do want to see a fight storyboarded by her in the future though!

i dont have much to say for ryann’s style except for its good.

parker

parker has a really smooth and professional style, it always seems like his lines are a lot smoother than most of the others. i personally dont think there’s too much to say about his style apart from the fact that he has some issues exaggerating expressions and also poses sometimes. he usually has some really funny scenes.

i want to see more dynamic fights from him though, for what we’ve seen from him is average but very smooth. my favorite fight from him was carol vs succulentus. short but really fun.

he also seems like a chill guy (also im sorry i dont have much to say on him oml)

stevie

the first thing to notice about stevie’s boarding style is her strength in like. everything. especially the way she draws expressions. they’re wonderfully exaggerated and really expresses emotions extremely efficiently. 

if you tell me that you havent laughed or smiled at any of these scenes then youre probably lying and i will fight you behind cartoon network studios at 3 am. 

another thing to note are the poses she draws. more often than not (specifically in action poses) there’s always a ton of movement and they’re always really really dynamic.

danny

danny’s style is really interesting. her style has the most noticable development in it. it used to be quite on model but would give some of the characters a little more exaggerated features (specifically with enid and her really huge thighs). in the most recent episode that she’s boarded which was let’s take a moment, there is quite a contrast in the style. the heads are a lot bigger, bodies are smaller and.... that’s it.

it looks a little off putting because its a really big contrast to every other style, but its certainly not bad. its really cutesy. another minor problem i have with her style is that the arms tend to look kind of not connected to the body. it’s nothing too noticeable but i have an awful habit of seeing stuff like that.

regardless of some of these flaws, danny’s style is really cute and i love how she draws. she’s also pretty good at fight scenes as well.

dave

i dont really know what to say for dave except fo uh?? really good? very dynamic? probably one of the most detailed styles from all of the boarders. there’s a lot of lines on the faces which makes them feel more organic as well as expressive and also adds to the humor a lot. 

also have yall seen the amount of detail he puts into gar’s muscles like holy shit

haewon

haewon is probably the most cryptid storyboarder on the show since she doesn’t post anything too often on social media. i also dont have too much to say about haewon’s style except that its really unique. its really flowy as well and inconsistent which always kinda makes it hard for me to tell what scenes she draws. all of her scenes are really funny though and i think that has to do with her style. 

one of my favorite scenes that she’s done is from sibling rivalry, that entire sequence with rad and enid arguing. they’re all really squishy and maluable quick is a good quality, especially in squash and stretch.

 i dont think she’s done any fight scenes so far but i think it’d turn out well if she did so. 

ian

b-whuh? what do u mean ian. hes not a boarder he just does some revisions sometimes

yea i know, so i’ll keep this short and sweet. i feel like i shouldve left him out but at the same time i also feel like i couldnt? yall remember the driving scene in ko’s video channel?

yeah ian did these and hell they’re both really good despite being extremely short scenes.

1. the posing for one is amazing,the silhouettes with each is very clear in both pictures

2. the movement is GREAT, especially in the second one. u can tell that they’re going super fast and that the force is pushing them back without even needing to see outside the window.

anyway i want to see him do one part of a fight that seems like it’d be cool

-

thank u for reading this hellishly long post. i love all the boarders with all my heart and would sell my soul for their skills.

[petergriffinhateblog-blog]

ok like... i make fun of family guy a lot, but for being a shit show, the plot is more put together than this

at the very least they notice their inconsistencies and the Status Quo and all of their plot/animation flaws, if only to poke fun at it (such as ending an episode mid plot in a wacky way cuz they ran out of time)

the emoji movie blatantly ignores them in lieu for... pop culture references that will surely go outdated within a few years. i’m fucking surprised that when the youtube app was opened, there wasnt a five minute segment of pewdiepie

im starting to ramble so heres a readmore

listen tho- the ‘meh’ emoji was a fun concept at first to make your main character, but between watching cliches (did u kno the hacker girl named jailbreak is actually THE PRINCESS EMOJI???) and then high five being, uh... the closest resemblance of comedic relief, it’s Very Hard to feel very bored at the concept of the two ‘meh’ parents of the main char talk to each other.

like... they broke up and it was boring. and then they got together and it was boring. i get it was supposed to be a joke about how their emotion goes against what they’re saying, but when your actors speak in monotone the whole time it conveys pure boredom and nonchalance

i told someone earlier that watching this movie is like watching a middle school play- everyone either says their lines like they’re reading it directly off the script... or they’re overacting. none of it sells.

combine that with the fact they’re unironically saying shit like “slay!!!” during dancing or “bye, felicia” as an ‘insult’ as if THAT’S not going to seriously date them more than the references are??

and the fact that movies take Actual Time to fucking Make means that by the time this thing came out, it was already... dated and ancient. to put that into context- there aren’t any mentions of fidget spinners, nor slime challenges (or slime making in general). yea, those are passing trends (except in the stim community, which isnt so much about making slime in the first place), but.. that’s the point. these things move so fucking fast that you CAN’T make a movie off pop culture like this.

remember those lists of emoticons that went around for a while that were like “im gonna rate every cow” and how they compare apple vs android vs google vs every other fuckin chat system?? they aren’t even consistent with THEMSELVES every year, how the fuck are you gonna cash in on making those emojis represent your CHARACTERS without completely alienating some of your targeted audience

at least fuckin Angry Birds or even Minecraft or Five Nights At Freddy’s have more to go off of. sure, they’re as bad as the emoji movie on that they’re gonna just be about current popular shit, but... each one of those things actually had a foundation you could build off of. the first two things (angry birds and minecraft) arent gonna go away, they’re INSANELY popular. and five nights at freddy’s? sure, yea, there was a risk that the series dropped off the face of the planet after that first month the original game came out, but there’s still shit to build on- say what you want about the fnaf series, but you gotta admit that if you take the setting of the whole series (and not just fucking retell what happens in the game just in movie form), you have something that could be interesting! HELL, i can come up with an okay idea off the top of my head- matpat (the guy from Game Theories) is the detective behind Some Fucking Murder Case and has to get to the bottom of it, involving a lot of hijinks that become progressively sillier as he goes on and gets less sleep (due to the nature of the game being At Night), until the ending where his silly hijinks and wacky theories save him from death and help him find the Lost Child that everyone assumed was murdered

- but, uh. the emoji movie? it has NOTHING. there’s no plot to texting, there’s no emotions or memories or setting or backstory to ANY of it. you take away the memorable faces and there’s literally nothing there to go on- never mind that 60% of the emojis look So Alike even on the big screen that ‘meh’s ability to change emotions makes him literally able to disguise himself as another person.

and, personally? im still bugged that shit like high five or aubergine are also referenced as emojis beside the faces, considering... i dont think there’s a fuckin aubergine emotion. what personality do you give them. why is this movie about Being Yourself when thats what literally half of your cast does. why does no one feel sympathy for this character being forced into a small Literal Box of expectations when... a lot of random smileys dont experience this weird Universal Law That Only Applies To Some Of Them.

im not a movie expert, but im pretty sure thats Bad in a few number of ways.

also the main char basically gets Friendzoned and then immediately just loses all emotion and gets depressed until she comes back and is like “IM SORRY I LOVE YOU” so like...

this is terrible

as a fucking family guy hate blog who goes out of my way to watch bad shows and movies??? dont bother here. its Not Worth It.

(the overall plot, too, is that Malware is Okay as long as the emojis are good, which is probably dangerous, but, you know. whatev)

[binkybun]

i caught up with taz and made the mistake of looking at reddit and youtube comments to read about theories n stuff and i noticed that apparently a bunch of people think merle is a bad/boring character and i am havin some Thoughts (tm) about it

the main points that people were making is the inconsistency in his characterisation and the lack of interesting drama in his backstory and i mean. i guess i can see where the ppl with these criticisms are coming from, bc yeah it is rare to have characters like this in western mainstream media?

(i read a post once about a genre of japanese (?) stories that dont involve conflict and that seem really boring to western readers who are used to these really dramatic narratives, man i gotta find that again)

but characters with a clean-cut personality that either doesnt change or very slowly developes and a tragic conflict in the past that shapes them as a person (like taako and magnus) are not the only way to write a character, and imo its not even realistic, like, its an efficient way to write characters but people aren’t (always) like that u know? 

im using myself as a point of reference here, and i’m not like that, which i guess is why i feel so defensive of merle. my view of the world and myself and my place in it is constantly shifting, just like his faith in his deity (going from “i didnt really care much for pan” to “i desperately need pans approval”) and his past (going from “loveless marriage” to “i still carry the ring with me wherever i go”) and so on, and the way i talk about myself or take actions strongly depends on where i’m at mentally and emotionally in that very moment. which leads to a bunch of contradictions and confusion and identity crises and yeah its super frustrating, but having a character also be sort of confused/confusing regarding his personality and his role is really cool and new and interesting to me.

the same goes for the backstory, like not every character needs death and loss in their past, sometimes you just bumble along, never really knowing what your purpose is, being insecure about what you even have going for you and thats enough background to make a character. not neccessarily a conventional one but definitely an interesting one

does any of this even make sense? idek. i might just be projecting my on identity issues on him lmao