#also if i do get in my english class will be early modern lit and i’m so excited…

[gawainism]

i am going to move out and make friends. manifestation is real and im doing it

[astronnova]

Okay but I wouldn't purely blame LMK for the flanderization of Tripitaka. All the flanderized depictions in fan works I've seen are from people who actually read the book and made fan art of the original source. And both versions of Trip develop into better people, anyways. Also, it's a little hurtful to say that most people don't analyze what they read, no? Granted, it's a kids show so much of the fanbase are minors, but like...kids will be kids.

my bad that it came across as hurtful! thats not my intention, i meant it as more of an objective viewpoint on something that's become widespread online and irl then just an insult to people.

unfortunately, a lot of people within the uhhh lets say 15-early 20s range dont... dive as deep into literature as they should. you ever heard of that one meme about "the door is blue because the author liked the color blue" ?

this is just one of many, and you couldnt go anywhere online without seeing somebody make this kind of joke. schools dont even really teach deep analysis of literature recently (i should know, ive been in multiple english lit classes and most of them don't dive as deep as you could and should. the only one that does that is with my most recent professor), and this stuff happens in highschool. yknow, during students most formative years of learnin stuff.

kids shouldnt just get a free pass on choosing to ignore the main point of a piece of literature because "kids will be kids". literature is the backbone of critical thinking, most people develop that skill through reading, and stories have a greater purpose, especially classical ones, than just "heres a show that provides constant stimulation with no reason".

i probably sound a little crazy or something, and im not articulating this as well as i could due to me taking *checks notes* two melatonin like 30 minutes ago BUT anyway tldr for that section is that a lot of people just dont dive deep into literature and its true meaning. a lot of folks like only looking at the surface level bits because its so much easier and simplier than writing an 1000 word essay about the importance of a certain theme within a piece of classical literature or something

steering this back to monkie kid,

the thing i explained above i think is one of the sources as to tripitaka, and sun wukong's, flanderization within the monkie kid fandom. instead of looking at the characters with the original intent of the religious text, its looked at as more of a "well he did X so he's a bad person". its too literal for a religious allegory. trying to apply strict "real world black & white morals" onto characters like this just wont work and will end with every character from the original jttw with the label of "bad person".

i could go onto a whole rant about how the recent decline of deep analysis of literature is the reason so many people seem to prefer "childrens cartoons" (because of the easier to understand morality/lessons) over, say, classical work or hell even some modern classics. this isnt an insult towards ppl that like "kids cartoons" btw, like look at my whole blog its just about cartoons LOL . i think theres more than just that one reason as to why people, at least online, gravitate towards childrens cartoons (likely because theyre more fantastical rather than trying to cater towards "adult gritty realism" and are animated, which is hard to find nowadays with all this "live action remake" junk), but i do think its one reason.

again, my bad if i sound like an ass or something or if i dont make sense, its like 12 am and i shouldve been asleep like an hour ago but im easily distracted LOLOL . but yeah, i think the source of the flanderization is just people misunderstanding the point of the original text and trying to apply modern storytelling conventions to something thats meant to be a big ass metaphor for enlightenment

[mistermaxwellboucherdieasilived]

Tagged by @nizynskis THANK YOU to post my 9 favorite books of all time

In no particular order and idk if these are my fave of all time but I thought they were all worth including

Tagging @verpaso @prozac @osyter @doffy @charlottan @didntitrain @bashirs @punkspike @skoople @sucrefemme @turochamp @63 all my mutuals also do it and say I tagged you I love you

More detail v

Stargirl - SOOOOO IMPORTANT TO MEEEE this was my favorite book in elementary school and I just reread it recently and it still means so much and shaped so much of who I am. It reminds me to be ME and enjoy being me. Im gonna get a stargirl tattoo hopefully soon

We'll Fly Away - So underrated no one ever talks about this book. I have critiques ofc but it talks about the prison/justice system and child abuse and the education system and so much its a tragedy and its beautiful Ive read it like 3 times I need to read it again

Everyday - Ive read this like 5 or 6 times my favorite book in middle school. I barely know what to say about this book but its such a unique and gorgeous concept that Ive never seen anywhere else. No one does it like David Levithan

Bridge to Terabithia - The first book that made me cry while reading it. Ive only read it once

We Were Liars - FUCKKKKK ME OK I LIKED E LOCKHART BEFORE THIS i LOVEDDDDD her books she has two series that i read all the way through and she wrote comedy and then she wrote THIS and I was like HOOOOOOLY FUCKING SHIT anyway this book is fucking amazing I won an advance readers copy at a library contest I love this book

Flowers For Algernon - I literally read this twice in a row I couldnt get enough of it. So fucking painful

The Duchess of Malfi - Sorry this is a play not a novel but this is important to me because I do love early modern english lit sorry and this play is so fucking amazing and my essay on it was SO GOOD and I presented it at the english honors society convention last spring so. Anyway I ❤️ women and overcoming misogyny

Catcher in the Rye - You know how I am

The Street - I read this for class a couple semesters ago it was just so amazing and beautiful and etc it has haunted me since then. I think about it every day. So good

Ok I love you ❤️💕

[notasapleasure]

a meme!

Thanks for tagging me, @grimm-lynn :)

1. Are you named after anyone?

I think the intention was to name me after my dad's mum (who died when he was very little), but to spell it in a more modern way. Inadvertantly, it's also a portmanteau of my parents' first names.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I was very sick and very tired and very frustrated when the removal guys broke it to me midway through emptying the house that they absolutely couldn't take any of my garden plants over the Irish Sea because of fucking BREXIT. I was also very angry with my husband, who was meant to have checked this. In the end, we managed to palm the plants off on friends and family and we'll try to bring them over later, once we've looked at the paperwork involved.

3. Do you have kids?

No!! I have known for a very long time that I never wanted them and do not have even an iota of maternal interest let along instinct.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

It has its uses.

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

My weekend hobbies as a kid were horse-riding and karate, and I played field hockey at school, did long jump and 200m sprint. But then, y’know. Everyone else got taller and I didn’t really. I dabbled in rowing at uni, because it was kind of expected that you'd try it, but my late-night carousing rather interfered with the early mornings. Also, as mentioned, I am short. Since then I haven't really done anything regularly except about a year where I got into weights. I'd like to get back into picking up heavy things and putting them down again, but I resent the cost of gyms and I need to have a structured class where someone tells me what to do, I don't have the willpower or imagination for solo training.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

Hm, it's tough to describe (my mum would say 'their energy') but like...whether they're engaging with me, like really with me and curious about what we're talking about, or if there's that feeling that you're on the clock to prove you're interesting or whatever before they get bored.

7. What’s your eye colour?

Blue

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Weird things to compare?? But uh. Happy endings probably? Not in my scary movies though. I like scary movies with bittersweet endings. Though the more I think about this choice the more confused I get.

9. Any special talents?

I'm so bad at answering these things, my mind just goes blank and I'm like 'oh pffff I don't do anything special, there's always going to be someone who's better than I am'. Assigned Jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none. There are lots of things I like to do and I try to do them well. I guess I will say that you probably want me around in a stressful situation - I'm calm and I love coming up with solutions to things.

10. Where were you born?

In a county hospital in a large and rural county of England.

11. What are your hobbies?

Ok, well. Writing, obvs. Fic and poetry now and again. There's an original idea that's been rattling round my head for a few years that I keep saying *this* NaNoWriMo I'll do it! And then don't. Art used to be much higher up the list but I'm so rusty. I haven't painted in years (...has it been over a decade?). Gardening (I miss my garden so much SO MUCH rn). Baking and cooking. I go through phases of manic knitting interspersed with a little crochet, but I want to improve my sewing - I have my granny-in-law's sewing machine I need to learn how to use. If we get this amazing house we’re looking at I’m going to have to get good at DIY, too.

12. Do you have any pets?

Two greyhounds and six (yes. six.) ferrets.

13. How tall are you?

5'1"

14. Favorite subject in school?

Art and English lit.

15. Dream job?

Not to be all 'I don't dream of labour' but I for sure don't dream of working for other people/companies. As you can see from the hobbies section, I like to DO stuff and be busy, but I like to work on my own terms and I like project work. So my freelance editing and proofing stuff suits me fairly well right now, though I dream more of a UBI that would let me do more with my time that wasn't just about earning, but could encompass more volunteering and community stuff. Being on furlough during lockdown suited me so well - I did so much and recovered so much energy that I was much more willing to engage with strangers as well as friends through video chat etc.

Tag fifteen mutuals - FIFTEEN?! huh ok, I’m tagging y’all but no obligation, right? And Idk who’s already been tagged, sorry if you’ve done this already and I didn’t see! @stripedroseandsketchpads @notfromcold @erinaceina @bellaroles @batri-jopa @donnaimmaculata @notabuddhist @kheldara @blxcksqvadron @boogerwookiesugarcookie @elwenyere @thatonelemontreeiforgorabout @jimtheviking @weirdsociology @rapidashmascot

[anghraine]

Elizabeth, you inspire me. A while ago, I ranted to you (and asked for your advice) about my wish to major in Literature, if you remember me. I just wanted to tell you that every time I lose my motivation, I come back to your blog and just get inspired to be like you. Btw I'm getting myself prepared by familiarising myself with some of the things that might be challenging in the long run, and I'm finding myself quite frustrated with the History of English Literature. Any advice for that?

Belatedly, thank you very much! That's a lovely thing to say.

With regard to the history of English literature, that's a very broad topic. Maybe it seems more so to me because I've always tended to focus a lot on particular subjects I find compelling, and I pay probably less attention than I should to the areas that I don't specifically study or want to study—nearly all my undergrad and master's literature courses were in early modern, eighteenth-century, or nineteenth-century British literature, because I had a lot of freedom of choice and those were what I was interested in (I managed to arrange things so that I took eighteenth-century literature five times, for instance).

Apart from Tolkien classes, I think I've taken maybe three twentieth- or twenty-first century literature classes ever (the only one I much cared for was a bell hooks seminar). So I often don't weigh in on discourse around most twentieth-century literary controversies because I genuinely don't know much about them. On the other end, I've taken late medieval English lit classes but I don't know much (or care much) about early medieval literature. I've taken enough survey courses to have a general sense of most periods, but that's about it if they don't fall within my range of interests.

So I'm probably not the best person to give advice on studying English literature broadly because I did my best to specialize as often as possible, as early as possible. The only advice I can really give about English literature as a whole is to try and take it piecemeal.

This doesn't have to be breaking it down into the traditional periods of things like medieval literature, early modern literature, etc, but I would be wary of sweeping generalizations about trends or about what English literature is or what its history looks like unless the evidence is incredibly strong and you're familiar enough to evaluate it.

The attempts to create large-scale narratives often leave out the specific details that make literature interesting, and also often leave out details that are inconvenient for those narratives, the voices of marginalized people, genres the generalizer doesn't personally prioritize as much, etc. A lot of accounts of the history of the English novel do all these, for instance.

When you're looking at literature, IMO the most important thing is to look at the specific details of the particular work you're reading, before you try and fit it into any of these grander narratives or even engage closely with those narratives. Afterwards, you can dig around for context, you can learn things about the era or the literary moment that clarify things in the text, you can look at others' interpretations and learn from them, but I think it's generally better to experience your own unforced reactions to texts as much as you can before you start looking at surrounding material.

[servantofclio]

12 and 17 for the book meme!

12: did you enjoy any compulsory high school readings?

I did! but also my experience of high school literature was... idiosyncratic.

We did American literature in my junior year. That fall we read a bunch of 19th-century stuff, mostly poetry and short stories, and I did enjoy the Edgar Allan Poe in particular. Then my English teacher came to me and offered me the option of doing an independent study in the spring semester. For context, I went to a very small high school -- there was only one section of the class and no honors track or anything like that -- so this was his way of offering me a more academically challenging experience. So he basically gave me a list of 20th-century American novels and my job was to hang out in the school library and read them, keep a journal, and periodically write papers. I did get to pick and choose from the list, so it wasn't entirely compulsory. But the list included a lot of the typical American lit canon. I liked The Great Gatsby a lot, I didn't care much for Catcher in the Rye, I had mixed feelings about Hemingway, and I'm kind of forgetting what else was on the list. But overall it was a pretty enjoyable way to experience literature in high school.

17: top 5 children’s books?

Hmmmmm, this one is a little tricky because i know there are a lot of great modern children's books that I'm not familiar with, and some of my childhood favorites have assorted issues. But I"m going to stick with some of my childhood favorites anyway.

(Also I started picking up sf/f from the adult section when I was like... 10 or so, so a certain amount of what I read in childhood were not strictly speaking "children's books.")

Frances Hodgson Burnett, A Little Princess (for all my tragic-orphan-fantasy needs)

Lloyd Alexander, The Prydain Chronicles (and also Westmark and its sequels, which are pretty brilliant)

Sydney Taylor, All-of-a-Kind Family and sequels (I was actually just thinking about these, they are really lovely books about a Jewish family in early-1900s New York, and closely based on the author's growing-up years)

Noel Streatfield, Ballet Shoes (about a trio of orphaned sisters at a theatrical school, there were also a string of others in this series)

Susan Cooper, The Dark Is Rising (still a favorite! and also the rest of the series, but this one was my personal favorite)

[marsandsaturn]

being with eren - headcanons

| based on the headcanons that live rent free in my head. also this is me trying to get my friend sal to love eren again. you horny eren stans are ruining his character so stop it😤

• modern!eren ; fluff ; gn!reader (as always)

• if they are typos im sorry, it is too long to look over and im lazy, sorry :/ edit: proofread now so hopefully its better 😛

; before dating eren ;

• okay so everyone makes out this angry boi to be a player. like he only likes to fucking around.

• but i headcanon that this man has only had sex like 3 times. like if were talking modern!eren then like he lost his virginity in his freshman of college. so he had sex in his freshman year (1) in his sophomore year (2) and in his junior year (3)

• now he’s a junior and you’re a freshman in college. okay keep that in mind for this part of the headcanon

• he meet you through levi, because somehow you and levi are like childhood best friends. but anyhow.

• he “stopped fucking around” (pls he’s not a fuck boy, stop making him out as one) when he met you.

• you were just so beautiful in his eyes, that he didn’t want to sleep with anyone.

• he wanted a whole life with you, and if he’s able to sleep with you, thats a plus.

• (he wants grow old with you,,plss thats so cute)

• this man is dense (whether that is canonverse or modern!au) so he doesn’t know how to approach you. like does he do it the cliche way that he’s seen in movies? or the romantic way, which he learned from his english lit class?

• he decides on the former but luckily mikasa stops him and tells him that he should approach you slowly instead on plainly asking you out.

• yup mhm even armin tells him (heck the whole squad tells him) to take it slow. none of that kissing booth crap. none of that. (its an okay movie, but its not my cup of tea)

• also fyi he knows levi because levi is the captain of the soccer team, which eren, jean, and connie are apart of. (don’t argue with me i headcanon that he is either on the soccer team or or the baseball team)

• so boom, he walks up to you and says if you want to hang out. ya’know all casual and what not.

•except for he might have stuttered a bit because you turned around confused but when you saw that it was him you showed him your beautiful smile. (he’s already in love but he’s denying it)

• so now you guys are “hanging out” (little does he know you kinda consider this a date)

• btw the “hang out” was at an arcade because he found out you love games.

• eventually you went on more dates and then when your freshman year of college and his junior year of college ends, the two of you date.

; dating eren ;

•im a sorry (no i am not) to all the eren stans who think the only thing he will do is rail you.

•i mean sure but not so early on into the relationship (probably when the two of you are close to a year of dating, will get more physical)

• at first he’s pretty much a sweetheart. after class (he’s now a senior, you are a sophomore) he’ll bring you some sort of food, or he’ll buy you like a bracelet or something because he felt like it ( his family is rich because his father is a doctor. like it kinda makes sense, butttt he doesn’t like that rich life get to his head, he keeps it humble😌)

• but then you know the urges that comes with being with someone comes the horniness (is that a word??) he’ll want to slowly ease into sleeping with you.

• he doesn’t want to immediately degrade you, and do all that kinky stuff. sure he’ll have some dirty talk but he’s wants it vanilla at first because remember he wants to grow old with you, he wants a life with you. (how sweet🥰)

• this man loves to tease you. light teasing because that is just the man he is.

• he sees you as his other half, so whenever his anger gets the best of him, he needs to find you immediately. you calm him down.

• he’ll call you his angel, his dearest, his pretty girl/boy, his other half, his miracle. he’ll call you whatever

• he loves cuddling with you, and he hopes you love cuddling as well. if he could he’d rather stay in bed in cuddle with you for the rest of his life, then go to class or work.

• he loves taking showers/baths with you. and no not because he wants to have sex in there, i mean every once in a while is okay. but he likes it when you wash his hair, or whenever you play with the bubbles, or listen to music while washing each other.

• he wants you to meet his parents. ESPECIALLY HIS MOM. (he is such a momma’s boy i swear)

•if his mom doesn’t approve of you, he doesn’t know what he would do. (he would probably try everything in his power to convince her but lets admit it, if you make eren happy, she approves)

• he loves morning kisses with you. like the both of you are sleepy, his eyes and your eyes are slightly closed and then you kiss. (ahhhh😫🥰) then he smiles. (that smile makes you sqeual because its so cute)

• he likes to talk to you about kids. it scares him but it also excites him to have a family with you. he loves seeing the way his dad looks at his mom, so he wants that.

• if you two can’t have kids because of your anatomy, or because or some other reason, he is happy to adopt. if you don’t want kids, that is okay because he wants to be with you for life.

• he is humble and is greatful for you, and thanks the heavens or whoever let you come into his life.

ahhhhh im surprised i actually finished a post instead of leaving it in my drafts

i love eren so much. also im gonna a levi one similar to this. also of jean, connie, armin, erwin, wtc.

my request are open but plesse don’t request match ups. those take a lot of time.

[treescape]

trees my beloved if you ever wrote a professor kenobi story i and many other people would spontaneously combust

Sooo….not going to lie, over the last couple weeks I’ve been throwing ideas around in my mind waiting for the energy to get a first chapter written, at least 😅. So far, where we’re at is:

Obi-Wan teaches...my instinct is always to say literature because my degrees are in early modern English lit and the idea of Obi-Wan reading Shakespeare or Herbert or Donne to his class just does something to me. But actually maybe political science, or history, I think. And Anakin is a new-ish instructor in mechanical engineering. Because faculty and staff can audit courses for free, he ends up auditing one of Obi-Wan’s classes on a whim--except that Obi-Wan doesn’t realize he’s not just another student and there is agony for a while. Even after he realizes that Anakin also teaches, there’s plenty of agony because he gets a glimpse of Anakin teaching his class one day and holy fuck.

I am also interested in continuing the Hogwarts AU that I posted a couple snippets for a while back, in which Obi-Wan and Anakin are both profs.

(Also, having said all that I would be--one million per cent open to Professor Kenobi prompts, or just prompts in general. I just quit my part-time copywriting job yesterday because it was so stressful, which means I am now back down to only my full-time job and whatever freelance projects I decide to take on the side, so--yay! The copywriting was eating up so much of my time over the last few weeks. I know my track record with filling prompts in a timely manner is not great, though I do have like, four that are nearly done I swear. But prompts seriously keep my creativity going when I’m tired and stressed about work, which is...most of the time, to be honest.)

[yelenasdog]

il un a visage gentil (prof!gwilym lee x prof! gn reader)

genre: fluff

summary: who knew the attractive english lit professor also happened to speak french? not his new coworker, that’s for sure.

words: 1.7k

warnings: reader embarassing herself a lil bit, that’s it :)

a/n: hi!! first of all, no pronouns are used as this is from readers pov, so anyone can read. second of all, so i typically don’t write for gwil, but i had this idea in french the other day when my french teacher (sweet old french man who deserves better LMAODSJO) was going over some assignment that for some reason had il un a visage gentil in it LOLOL. that being said, i obvi don’t speak fluent french and this is all fictional! love u, hope u enjoy!!

。·☔︎◎❦·。·

“Hello everyone, and welcome to your first day. I’m Dr Gwilym Lee, and I am the head of the English Literature Department here at Oxford University. Feel free to call me Gwil, it’s what all my students do.”

I slanted my eyes from my position at the door, gripping the frame just a tad tighter than I had been before hearing his voice. I continued to listen to the doctor talk as I made my way behind the last row of seats in the lecture room, trying not to make any noise. My heels were thankfully mute against the carpet, not drawing any attention towards me, the professor keeping complete focus on his students.

“One of the first things I wanted to kind of, um, touch on, is that I will be quite flexible. I understand that you have lives, as do I. As long as I can see an honest effort being put into my class, I will hold no repercussions for late work or being physically late to class.”

With that, he looked up to where I had just sat down, quirking a brow. The eye contact was momentary, only lasting what seemed to be a second, if that.

I cleared my throat, looking to my feet.

“We at the english department are quite proud of our status, ranking 4th in english programs overall in the UK. Now I won’t continue to bore you with the statistics, but-“

I made a scan of the room, seeing how only 1 or 2 pupils were actually listening, the rest either slumped over looking at their phones, or pretending to take notes on a laptop while really watching netflix. (More than one student was watching gossip girl, oddly enough.)

Considering it was only 5 minutes into the hour long lecture, I was confused, as he was holding my attention, at least, quite well.

After about 30 minutes, I realized that my own “first day lecture” was in 15 minutes, which assured that I most definitely had to leave. I was saddened by this (even though I had only even planned on staying in Gwil’s room for a small while.

I sighed quietly, picking myself up from the surprisingly comfortable seats and making my way towards the door. Just as I was about to go, I felt eyes boring holes into the back of my head. I turned, realizing Gwilym to be the perp. I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again, quickly walking out and down the hallway to my own room.

I made it in, hurrying down the many stairs, past where a few students were waiting.

“Hi, everyone, I’ll just be a few moments, just waiting for the rest of your new classmates to arrive.”

I smiled briefly, before slamming my office door audibly, chest heaving with my back against the shaded window. I closed my eyes, unaware of why I had been so panicked by the brief interaction, not to mention the butterflies it hatched in my stomach.

After giving myself some time to decompress, I exhaled, smoothing out the skirt of my dress and rotating. I placed a hand on the handle, preparing myself for the fresh faced freshman.

As I opened the door, I heard half a knock, before whoever was behind the door (poor soul) essentially fell on top of me.

Expecting to see a red faced pupil who had just made a very interesting first impression, I looked up, suddenly becoming the one with a warm and itchy wave of embarrassment making its way up my neck.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” He stood up, reaching out a hand. I hesitated before reaching forward and gripping tightly, allowing him to tug me up.

“It’s alright, Gwil, really.”

He opened his mouth (not that I was paying any mind to his lips), presumably to ask my name. Before he got the chance, I beat him to it, blurting out my full title, unfortunately in a quite awkward way.

The students that had gathered had mostly turned their attention elsewhere by now, only a few of them still watching the live disaster that was my interaction with the incredibly attractive man in front of me.

He spoke up as I tried to maneuver my way around him to the podium positioned in the front of the room where my laptop was waiting.

“Well, I had assumed you were a student who was trying to sneak off early, but I stand corrected, then.” He looked around my slowly filling space, a slight amusement hiding in his gaze.

“Yes, sorry, I had caught you at a bad time, I was hoping to introduce myself, you know, trying to make a good impression. Feels like the first day of school all over again.” I laughed, bringing a hand up to brush away a stray strand that had somehow managed to escape my bun.

“It’s alright, don’t stress about it. And trust me, I get it. New jobs are scary.”

I huffed, looking out at the sea of judgmental young people that I now would have to face after that fiasco. Lovely.

“You could say that again.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a short amount of time, the clock striking 2:30 being what woke me from my trance.

“That’s my queue.” I gave a small wave as he walked off, a smile spreading across his face at the motion.

I turned to my teaching assistant, fully believing he was out of earshot.

“Il un a visage gentil, eh?”

She only laughed, nodding her head and plugging in my macbook, allowing the screen to come alive with a flurry of colors in my powerpoint.

“Hi guys! Or should I say bonjour!” I paused, receiving a few chuckles in the crowd.

“I’m sorry for getting us started so late, I had a small mishap. I’m Dr Y/n Y/l/n, and I am your professor this year in the French undergraduate course, where you will have the opportunity to study medieval literature, modern day linguistics, and much more, which I will get into later on.

 We here at Oxford have the single largest French department in Britain, which we have come to have extreme pride in. We also have a french cultural center, where you will find a large selection of programmes and literature to choose from. If you haven’t yet checked it out yet,” I briefly looked up, seeing Gwilym still stood at the top of the stairs. He gave me another small smile, crossing his arms.

“Sorry, lost my place. Where was I?”

-

After class, I walked up to where the tall man had now moved to the side, allowing students to flood right by him.

“Gwil, hi!”

“Hi to yourself.”

I blushed, the feeling of fuzzy-ness once again flooding my entire system at just the brief statement. Odd. Extremely odd.

“That was very nice, I have a feeling this class will be quite popular in the coming years.”

I smiled and nodded my head. “Thank you, I appreciate it, truly. Although, I must say that I can tell everyone is racing to get a spot in Professor Gwilym Lee’s class 100% percent.”

He cocked his head, slimming his eyes.

“Really, you think so?”

We continued to walk down the long hallway, neither of us quite aware of where we happened to be going.

“Oh for sure, I can imagine you’re especially popular with a certain demographic, too.”

His confusion seemed to only grow, stormy blue eyes seemingly lost.

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” His voice slightly raised an octave at the end, earning a chuckle from me.

“Look, all I’m saying is that with looks like that, I bet your roster was full in seconds.”

I paused, the flow of conversation stopping as I came to terms with what I had just accidentally said. Out loud. In front of my new coworker, who happens to be incredibly gorgeous. A wonderful first day I’m having.

We resumed walking, a blanket of complete silence falling upon us all the way until we reached the entrance to the facility.

The chilly December air hit my face immediately, as well as droplets of rain that were falling so hard it felt like small bullets were grazing my nose, which I could barely feel after just a few moments outside.

“Here.” Gwil muttered, pulling out a bright red umbrella and using it to shield us both from the angry pellets sent from above.

“Ah, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Then it was quiet again between us both, minus the sounds of chattering students and the rain hitting and then sliding off of our cover, coming in contact with the ground with a final splat.

“You know,” Gwilym began, always the one to break the silence.

I hummed, turning my head in his direction.

“I speak a little bit of French, as well. And I think you also have a nice face.” He nudged my elbow and laughed, while I closed my eyes and sighed, hanging my head.

“So there really isn’t any other way I could possibly embarrass myself right now, is there?”

He only shrugged, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, now that I think of it, there might be one more thing I can think of?”

“What would that be?”

“Saying no to a cup of coffee?”

It was like I froze over completely, my mind suddenly growing blank when I needed it mostt.

“With me?” I asked, the question more aimed towards myself, a miniscule act of reassurance and affirmation.

Gwilym smiled brightly as he shook his head, and I swear, I had never seen anything more amazing.

“Yes, Y/n, with you.”

I stuttered, embarrassed for what seemed like the millionth time that day, specifically at my lack of verbal skills.

“Yes, yes of course, that sounds amazing.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

He offered me an arm which I gladly took, and we started walking to the quaint campus cafe just across the street from our building.

It was the same cafe where (not that we knew it yet) the both of us would make many late night coffee runs together during midterms week, the stressful time growing to become one of our favorites as it was now filled with giggles and caffeine. 

Usually it would end up with one of us, that one of us usually being me, leaving a ring of coffee on the other’s ungraded assignments. Or even better, spilling an entire drink on the paper, only a “sorry!” written in Gwil’s rushed handwriting at the top of the curiously scented paper as explanation.

But as I said, we didn’t know that yet.

。·☔︎◎❦·。·

kinda gross but whatevs, like and rb if u did indeed enjoy it. mwah, go eat some protein, take an electronics break and drink some water. love u 

xx hj

[jeannereames]

What Genre IS Dancing with the Lion?

(N.B.: This post should not make anyone feel guilty for mislabeling the novels; I’m posting it because there seems to be some confusion.)

One of the most important parts of selling a book is getting it into the right hands: that is, to the readers most likely to enjoy it. And that involves labeling it correctly.

If you picked up Dancing with the Lion because you’re a fan of Alexander the Great or ancient Greece, the book’s genre probably matters little. I’ve read novels about Alexander in everything from lit mainstream to SFF to mystery to old-school Romance.

Yet such readers are a fraction of potential readership. For those with no particular inclination to a book about Alexander the Great, naming the genre matters. Will it meet reader expectations and appeal, or frustrate and annoy? That’s why authors worry about genre labels.

So, to answer the question: Dancing with the Lion is a mainstream historical coming-of-age novel with touches of magical realism and queer themes.

Below, I’ll explain in brief why it’s some labels and not others. But I want to stress that getting a book correctly labeled is NOT a diss at genres it isn’t. Again, it’s about getting it into the right hands so readers like it instead of hate it.

Novel: At root, two basic story types exist—those that focus on plot (romance, small /r/ = adventure story) and those that focus on characters (novel). I write both, incidentally; my current WIP is an historical fantasy adventure series. But DwtL is a novel. Characterization IS the plot, rather than characters moving the plot along.

Mainstream: Just means the book doesn’t fit into the plot conventions of commercial genre fiction. Saying something is “mainstream” therefore says mostly what it is not: not mystery, not horror, not Romance, not fantasy, etc. Some folks will subdivide it further into “literary” mainstream versus commercial mainstream with the distinction that the latter sells better and/or the former is more artsy.

Historical: A subcategory of several genres, including mainstream. Readers of historicals tolerate more historical detail and unusual names, although genre historicals can alter that. Too much historical detail in an historical Romance that slows down the love story can get an author in trouble. Mainstream historicals may include glossaries, character stemma, timelines of historical events, or other reader guides. Afficionados of historical novels are reading for that detail, not in spite of it.

Coming-of-Age: as the name suggests, this very old story archetype is all about the characters growing up. In DwtL, three characters have coming-of-age arcs: Alexandros, Hephaistion, and Kleopatra.

Magical Realism: Unlike genre fantasy, magical realism combines realistic/non-magical elements with supernatural ones. They also take place in this world, not a different fantasy world in which magic works. Yet the line between historical fantasy and historical magical realism can be fine because, in the past, people did assume magic worked, and the better authors of historical fantasy employ magical systems appropriate to that place and time. The biggest difference is that magical realism is subtler, and the supernatural elements may not be perceived by all, or even most characters. (So while Alexandros sees Dionysos, no one else does.)

Queer Themes: This is more than just Alexandros and Hephaistion as lovers. Especially in Rise, one sub-plot for Hephaistion’s coming-of-age is his own growing awareness that the way he experiences desire does not conform to the expectations of his society. He is what we, in the modern world, would call gay. I wanted to explore how it might feel for someone to be gay in a world that doesn’t have that label, and which might, on the face of it, seem more accepting…but really isn’t.

Now, for the genres it’s not, and why:

Not Romance: Capital /R/, Romance the genre has fairly locked-in plot arc expectations. The Hero and Hero (if it’s m/m) meet, go through trials and tribulations, then finally hook up in some sort of permanent way to live happily-ever-after (HEA) or at least happily-for-now (HFN). The focus of the novel must remain firmly on the Hero and Hero and their relationship. Other relationships and events should serve to frame the main one, never distract from it.

DwtL: Becoming simulates some of those things. The book does begin when the boys meet, and they go through a friends-to-more plot arc, but there’s too much Other Stuff, and in Rise, the story just keeps going even after they get together. Furthermore, Rise is not a Romance plot arc, even loosely. It’s all about Alexandros and Hephaistion entering the adult world of politics and war, and the larger theme (of the whole series, not just these books) asks what it means to be a moral/ethical sovereign?

Not YA (Young Adult): Although YA novels should have an adolescent protagonist and will often be a coming-of-age story, not all novels with an adolescent protagonist or coming-of-age story are YA. So what’s the difference? The themes and the language employed.

The plot of YA should focus on things important to that age group (13-18), not necessarily what could equally matter to someone in their 50s. That doesn’t mean adults can���t enjoy YA stories; about 55% of YA books are purchased by adults. Another aspect of YA is the vocabulary used and complexity of ideas. Sometimes adult coming-of-age stories are called more “sophisticated,” which isn’t a term I like. Intricate might be better, in characterization and theme.

Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch, Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye, and J.D. Salinger’s A Catcher in the Rye are all coming-of-age novels, and some are even assigned in high school English classes. But they aren’t commercial YA in language or theme. In contrast to, say, Madeline L’Engel’s A Wrinkle in Time, Jane Yolen’s Pit Dragon trilogy, or Ursula LeGuin’s A Wizard of Earthsea. Yet I don’t think anyone would call those latter three “unsophisticated.”

In short, a teen protagonist and/or coming-of-age story does not qualify a book as YA.

Finally, most YA treats sex gingerly as they must be appropriate for readers as young as 13, 14, 15. They may have some romance or none at all, and they may have elided sexual situations light on description. It shouldn’t be shocking, but age-appropriate to adolescent curiosity about sex. (By contrast, the category of New Adult [18-25 readership] may have quite a lot of graphic sex in it, although in other ways NA resembles YA.)

When I wrote Dancing with the Lion, despite the age of the main protagonists, I made no attempt to moderate the language. There are also POV scenes from adults, and three of the chief thematic concerns—what does it mean to be a moral king [Alex], how does one support the powerful without losing one’s self in the process [Hephaistion], and how to exercise personal agency when one has none legally [Kleopatra]—are themes that can apply to any age group. Last, the sex scenes have no stop on them. If two are over fairly quickly with general/poetic description, the third is graphic because it needs to be as what they are doing matters very much to Hephaistion’s character arc. There is also reference to the rape of women and children in war; only the aftermath is shown, but still. While I realize emotional maturity can vary wildly, I wouldn’t recommend the second novel for readers under 15/16. (I told my niece not to let my great-niece read it yet.)

That’s why I’m concerned about Dancing with the Lion being labeled YA. An unsuspecting parent might buy it for their early teen child, only for that child to get a textual eyeful in book 2!

Also, readers who pick it up thinking it’s ___, get angry when it’s not. E.g., in an otherwise fairly positive review, at least one reader wrote:

“Because the western spellings/pronunciation are so ingrained using the stranger sounding Greek slows the pace even further and seems to over complicate things merely for the sake of it. This is clearly aimed at a YA audience and so I find the choice doubly baffling - Because you want to encourage teens reading not put them off by making this harder than it needs to be.”

But it’s not YA, was never meant to be YA, nor marketed or labeled as YA on the cover. Apparently, some folks on Goodreads labeled it that in their tags, so now “Young Adult” shows up as one of its genres…and I can’t get rid of it because I don’t set those tags (nor does my publisher).

In the above case, the reader mostly enjoyed it, but her perceptions affected how she reviewed it. Authors can’t always control those perceptions and expectations, but as we really do want readers to like the book (not feel deceived), we endeavor to use the right labels on them.

[fromashescomephoenixes]

Sirius Black’s Day Off

author’s note: this is a collab of 80′s movies with the lovely @probably-peeves@thegrxywitch @flymyhp @quadrupledeckertaco @shaynawrites23 please go check out what they wrote for this!

word count: 2.6k~

summary: imagine ferris bueller’s day off.... but with sirius!

****

"Rise and shine beautiful!" Sirius sprang up, flinging my curtains open. The reddish gold morning sun greeted me. In my opinion, it seemed angry and pushy but many might call it 'gentle' and 'beautiful' I knew better.

"No," I grunted. I placed the pillow over my face to block out the sun, and Sirius's loud announcements. Who really knew what he was up to?

"That's the spirit, now I'm going to transfigure some nice yellow warts on your face and you have to cough occasionally. Okay?" Sirius continued bounding around the room before finally leaping onto my bed and planting a kiss across my cheek. I tried to shove him off, but my morning fog finally cleared enough to let me remember why I loved Sirius: it was an adventure every day with him.

"Fine,"I sat up rubbing my eyes, and gave Sirius a morning kiss. "Good morning," He leaped off of the bed, happy to have completed a succesful mission.

"Fantastic! So I'll transfigure us both to-"

"No," I said again, thinking a bit about this plan. Whatever it led to, we certainly would not be taken siriously if we both showed up to Madam Pomfrey with a bizarre illness at the same time. "We need to go in separately or she'll get suspicious."

Sirius nodded, considering.

"You're right!"

"I always am, love," I winked as I pulled on my comfiest trackies. "So are you going to take me to breakfast if you got me up this early?" With a cough, Sirius fell dramatically on to my bed.

"I can't, I'm sick!" he cried, practicing his fake illness.

"Breakfast in bed it is then!" I decided, as I summoned a house elf. Over jammy toast and Beatles tunes, Sirius explained his idea.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." He began. Of course this was going to be a dramatic monologue. When wasn't it with Sirius? I brushed the toast crumbs from my lips as he spoke, excited to here the rest of the plan. "And so, today we are going...." He paused and appeared to be doing some difficult mental math.

"Actually, it would be quicker for me to say where we aren't going!"

"How are we doing this with classes though?" I frowned. Clearly Sirius had banked on me asking this question, and he began to preform various charms which were set to give me an extremely ill appearance in the first class of the day.

"I am excused from class due to a death in the family." He said much to happily, and I recalled that one of his pure-blood supremacist great-aunts had died recently.

"Sorry for your loss?" I said trying to hold back giggles at his jubilant behaviour.

"Don't be!" He shrugged, "Anyways, you'll be sick. And we'll call Remus out with some message from a teacher once I pick you up!"

"Remus is okay with this?" I was incredibly confused now. Typically Remus steered far away from anything which would cause him to miss classes due to his... unique.. schedule.

"Once he knows I'm sure he will be!"

"Famous last words my love, famous last words."

****

Midway through charms, I noticed a couple of strange glances coming my way. I paused my readings about The Art of Life in Inanimate Objects and looked around for anything that was causing these looks.

I quickly figured it out as I realised multicolored spots were popping up all over my arms, and I realised slight puffs of steam were currently exiting my ears. Godric Sirius. Madam Pomfrey was going to have some issues with that one.

"Professor Flitwick?" I raised my hand and waited a moment for him to notice.

"Yes Ms. y/n!" He responded in concern.

"I think I need to see Madam Pomfrey,"

"Yes, right away!" He agreed in his high pitched voice. I raced into the hall with my bag and bumped into Sirius straight away. He pulled me into the nearest secret passage way.

"Oh bloody merlin, my charms actually did work!" Sirius exclaimed, sounding extremely surprised at their success.

"How do we make them un-work?" I begged, uncomfortable at the site of pulsing pustules that were spotting my arms.

"I don't know y/n I think the multicolored look kind of suits you!" He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine." I crossed my arms. "But no kisses until I'm back to normal," I challenged smugly. A horrified look crossed Sirius's face, and he quickly got out his wand. After a few muttered spells, I was good as new.

"Thank you darling," I kissed his cheek softly before stepping into the corridor. He blushed and quickly followed me. Pulling out a piece of scrap parchment, aka the Marauder's map, we expertly dodged Filch on our way to  Remus's classroom.

"You go in," Sirius suggested, quickly forging a note if needed. Given it was the arithmancy teacher, I was sure it wouldn't matter. She was usually too focused on the topic to break away from it.

"Pardon me?" I knocked lightly on the door as I came in. "Professor Binns requested I borrow Remus for a while, he needs quite a lot of help with something." I carefully laid the foundation for a long absence to be suspected of Remus. He was currently eyeing me suspiciously, no doubt seeing right through my preformance. I threw him a wink and he simply rolled his eyes.

As we got into the hall he checked his suspicion.

"So, I'm guessing Professor Binns doesn't need my help?"

"Ah, you are smart!" I said in feigned surprise. Remus's lips twitched, nearly smiling.

"And where's Sirius?"

"Proving your smarts again!" I teased. "He's right round this corner, in the Hogsmeade secret passage." I whispered and tugged Remus into the hidden tunnel. That was where our adventure truly began. Huddled between the stoney walls of yet another secret passage.

"So!" Sirius clapped his hands together softly, before letting one hand fall down to hold mine. "Where do you guys want to go today?" I looked at him in amazement, as I had thought we'd be going to Hogsmeade at most.

"We're leaving Hogsmeade area?" I clarified. I glanced at Remus, and saw he shared my expression of shock. Sirius nodded with a glow of glee in his eyes.

"That we are!" He announced dramatically. I giggled while hushing him, sure that Filch would somehow here through the stone wall. Remus shrugged, unsure of where on earth he'd like to go.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, suddenly remembering one of the wizarding villages I'd heard about. "What about Pitlochry?" The small scottish town actually had a thriving wizarding community living right under it's very nose. It's actually where the famous wizard, Michael Scot, spent many years.

Remus's eyes lit up "Oh yes! Let's go there!" He agreed, eager to see what is said to be a beautiful town. Sirius was ecstatic, and jumped at the idea as well.

“Well?” Remus asked, trying to sound slightly bored with the lack of adventure he’d been forced to miss class for so far.

“Well what?” Sirius asked, glancing up from the Marauder's map he had been studying while we discussed where exactly to visit.

“Well how are we getting there dummy?” I grinned with a hint of mischief.

“Hey! You’re my girlfriend, you don’t get to call me dummy!” Sirius yelled indignantly.

“On the contrary darling, it’s one of my special privileges!” I smirked. “Like this!” I gave him a quick peck on the lips, and then raced raced down the passage with a smirk.

"We could apparate?" Remus suggested, but I shook my head slightly. Despite passing my test, I freaked out about trying it with anything farther than a couple of feet away.

"Perhaps use the Floo?" I thought out loud, hoping this would be the chosen idea.

"Or," Sirius began with a gleam in his eye, "We could use my motorbike." Sirius's cherry red motorbike had been bought last summer, and was currently stored in Hogsmeade. It was practically begging to be used. There was just one little snag:

"It's not like it flies or something," Remus shook his head with a small smile. "It would take ages to get to Pitlochry on it!" Sirius's smile grew all the wider. I could practically predict what he was about to say, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to believe it.

"Ah, but my friend, it does fly!" He exclaimed triumphantly. My eyes must have been boggling out of my head, because I simply could not believe it. For some reason it was perfectly logical that magic could give me pulsing polka dots all over my skin, but complete unbelievable that it could make a motorcycle fly.

****

"Wheeee!" I shouted gleefully as we soared through the clouds. Remus also looked like he was loving it, especially since he got the beautiful view out of the side car. He laughed along, as Sirius grinned proudly. As we began our descent, I wrapped my hands slightly tighter around Sirius's waist.

"Be careful!" I gasped as we pointed towards the ground. It was fairly terrifying to be staring straight down to the ground. I pressed my forehead against Sirius's back.

"Alright love?" He turned slightly, a note of concern in his voice.

"Yep," I squeaked while taking a few deep breaths. I was a Gryffindor. I was brave. I was completely fine with being a few thousand feet off of the ground.

****

After many impromptu loop de loops, we finally landed in Pitlochry. My feet sunk into the soft snow, and I felt more grateful than I’d ever admit to be back on the ground again.

“Where to first?” Sirius clapped his mittened hands together in anticipation.

“The museum!” Remus suggested straight away. I nodded, thinking it would be fascinating to learn more about Michael Scot.

The museum was filled with fascinating Latin texts, of which a few had been transcribed into modern English. I perused these before following Sirius into the next part of the museum.

Remus stayed outside once he caught a glimpse of the starry sky. I patted his back gently, attempting a comforting action, before I went in.

The room was a doom filled with a moving mural of the night sky. The only difference was that it had been painted here directly by Michael Scot during his time studying astrology.

“That’s you!” I pointed up to the star Sirius as I took the real Sirius’s hand. “I think I like you better as a star,” I joked, leaning on his shoulder.

“Well you get the best of both worlds here then, because I’m a star as well as me!” He responded, overestimating his rockstar career for a moment.

“You’re my star,” I smiled softly towards him, and we walked back to Remus. I caught Sirius redden slightly before grinning.

****

On our path back to the main wizarding village (hidden from the view of muggle Pitlochry), we came across a small scrimmage of community quidditch. After preforming a few warming charms, we stood and cheered for each of the teams.

"Here snitch-y snitch," Sirius started to call, as if attempting to make a dog come to him. I grinned and joined in,

"Who's a good snitch?" I shouted, and surprisingly, the snitch seemed to respond. It veered towards us and whizzed right over the head of a chaser into the hands of Sirius.

An astonished look filled his face, and both the teams swooped over to congratulate him. After a series of pats on the back and handshakes, we finally excused ourselves and continued our walk to the main village.

We spent the rest of the morning wandering through various shops filled with owls, and potions, and parchment until eventually all of our hands were a bit too similar to ice blocks.

****

“Shall we duck in here?” Remus nodded towards the busy restaurant.

“M’lady,” Sirius bowed and opened the door for me. I giggled and passed elegantly through the door frame.

I wrapped my hands around the warm mug of Butterbeer, and breathed in the sweet, ginger scent. The band was playing a recent Weird Sisters release, and I tapped my toe to the beat.

As the chill wore off, I relaxed into Sirius’s arm which he had wrapped around my shoulders.

“What’s next?” I asked eagerly.

“Going back to Hogwarts?” Remus begged in a tired voice.

“Oh come on! You’ve had a great time Moony!” Sirius slugged his arm, with friendly affection of course.

“I have,” Remus admitted with a sly grin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about our grades!” I did see his point, it was NEWTs year. But a little break never hurt anyone!

“Please Moony, your grades are of the least concern. You probably have three O’s and an E or something,” Sirius waved his hand, brushing away Remus’s concerns. Remus looked down bashfully, telling me that Sirius had guessed nearly right.

“Plus Slughorn’s been a real dragon in potions lately,” I recalled the terribly involved animagus potion we had to create last class. Fortunately I was paired with Sirius, which made it ten times easier.

"Fine! Get outta here Abe!" Our cheerful banter was interrupted by the shouts of the lead guitarist of the band that had been playing during our lunch. It would seem that the lead singer had quit for some reason unknown to us. The two other band mates looked shattered, despite their previously amazing performance.

I nudged Sirius. Of all the people I could think of that might be able to help this situation, he was the best fit.

"You should go up there!" I encouraged him. I saw a rare flicker of doubt cross his eyes, but with a friendly smile from Remus and I, he seemed to gather his courage.

"Yeah," Remus nodded enthusiastically.

"I promise to remember you both when I'm famous," Sirius shot us both a winning grin before heading up to the stage. We watched him whisper to the abandoned band members for a moment, who eventually looked enthusiastic.

We heard the energized strumming of a few opening chords, and Remus and I began to tap our toes in time. The song seemed to ring a bill, but I wasn't entirely sure where I'd heard it.

"Well, shake it up, baby, now!" Sirius began to sing. I grinned, realising it was the exact song we had eaten our breakfast to. Pausing to listen for a line or two, I saw how the energy of the quiet pub room changed. Gradually, it came alive. Sirius's energy was contagious. He nodded up to him, and I ran up.

"You know you look so good," He winked, grabbing my hand and giving me a quick spin. As I spun around, I noticed Remus inviting another girl close to our age to dance. And I spied an elderly couple doing a small shuffle together. Something about this tune just brought people together!

After pulling out my finest dance moves alongside a singing Sirius, I collapsed back into my seat and chugged the rest of my butterbeer.

"Merlin," I grinned with a bubbly happiness towards Remus. He grinned eagerly back.

"Don't tell Sirius," He teased, "But I have actually had a fun time today." He admitted slyly.

"I'm glad," I nodded. "I have to hand it to Sirius that this was a pretty fantastic day off."

[vfdarkness]

Love AVFD, the season finale was amazing and I can't wait to see what you do in season 2! I'm curious, what are some of your favorite horror podcasts?

Thank you! 

I’ll answer - at the same time - I’ll give the caveat that I’m less inspired by other horror podcasts for AVFD and more so by horror and other sorts of fiction (magical realism, weird fiction, surrealism) in other mediums. I might make a follow up post to this one in the future and list out a few books and authors that’ve been especially influential for the show. 

For podcasts though - 

Welcome to Night Vale was what got me to listen to modern fiction podcasts. It’s not horror per se, but walks a strange line that I appreciate and the single narrator radio host format is inspiring for those of us too poor to put on larger productions. I heard the show while living in Chicago back in 2013. At the time I tried doing a Twilight Zone-esque podcast called The Night NeverEnding (you can’t find it online anywhere anymore) but I was doing everything myself and the writing and narration quality just weren’t there.

I am in Eskew - I really love this show. It plays with so many themes and things that I’m also attracted to. After I’d been writing NoSleep stories for awhile and wanted to do something more, I heard this show, and again thought about making a podcast. So Night Vale and Eskew are probably the two biggest influences on AVFD coming into existence.

The Black Tapes - great production, exceptionally well acted, and some individual episodes and ideas that carry across the series are excellent. I feel this show has gotten enough praise elsewhere though that I don’t need to write further about it.��

Nightlight - I only started listening to this one recently, but it’s wonderful. Really well written stories, great narration. In particular, the last two episodes as I write this have been really good - if you’re looking for a jumping off point. Back in their first season they narrated a story by W.E.B. Dubois that’s just amazing. I had no idea Dubois wrote fiction. The story’s called The Comet - about NYC being destroyed and the only two people left are a poor black man and a wealthy white woman. This was decades before The Twilight Zone but it’s that same sort of story - using speculative fiction to smuggle in social commentary. 

The Magnus Archives - shortly into our series people told me our show reminded them of TMA. I’d not heard it before. I’ve since listened to the first several episodes, but stopped shortly into the first season - not even ten episodes in if I recall. It’s fantastic, I love it. But as I was writing the first mirror leeches story initially the second part of that story ended in an identical manner to a story TMA did. I didn’t want to be influenced to do - or not to do - stories based on another show so I didn’t want to listen further. I’ve had second thoughts on this though. Especially since I feel the world, direction, and mythology of AVFD is established enough in my head that it can’t be further influenced by other series.

Old Gods of Appalachia -  another exceptionally well-written story with phenomenal narration. I didn’t get very far into the first season for the same reason I didn’t listen much to TMA. I’ll probably listen further to this one too soon though.

Nocturnal Transmissions - I have to mention Kristin’s other podcast. He’s the best narrator in the business and he curates incredible stories. When I was contributed stories for NoSleep I got asked a dozen or so times to have my writings used by Youtube narrators and various podcasts. Most of these weren’t bad - but you could tell it was just someone doing it for a hobby. Kristin’s show is as professional as it gets - in terms of production value and his talent as a narrator. He asked to narrate a story I wrote - a quick, silly thing about a guy being upset that his neighbor is just a giant spider in a trenchcoat and no one seems to notice. Several months later, I was thinking of starting an audiodrama of some kind. I really liked the idea of a parapsychologist (Peter Venkman’s job in Ghostbusters) having Frasier Crane’s radio psychiatry job. I pitched him that and so we made AVFD.

Wolverine: The Long Night - Not horror, but I have to mention this. It’s written by Ben Percy who taught me creative writing in college. He had a huge impact on me. At that time, at the university, I was being led astray by the rest of the English dept - told that you couldn’t write speculative fiction stories - horror or weird fiction - and get taken seriously. If you weren’t writing about married couples having passive aggressive arguments where nothing really happens - then you weren’t writing “literature”. Not so in Percy’s class. He had us read Jorge Luis Borges, Angela Carter, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Joyce Carol Oates - authors celebrated across the globe as literary yet they wrote amazing mythic, strange, horrific tales. He had us read an anthology of stories put out by McSweeny’s where literary authors wrote speculative fiction - showing how to use literary techniques to write genre lit. Today, in 2020, that all might read as obvious - of course you can write literary speculative fiction. I’m 37. I was in college in the early 2000s. It was far less obvious then. Anyway, a lot of the best advice I got on writing came from him. A lot of authors who’ve influenced my writing - I was introduced to in his class. And when I went to create AVFD - I felt confident I could write in the audiodrama because I was taught by someone who’d already written a breakout series in the medium.

And finally I should mention The Storage Papers and Weeping Cedars. The first is about Jeremey, who purchases an abandoned storage space that’s filled with files on strange and horrific things happening in San Diego. It’s a really well-produced single narrator show. And Weeping Cedars is more in line with The Black Tapes in terms of medium - a journalist doing an audio documentary. in this case about a small upstate New York town. The show unfolds very slowly - like a long Stephen King novel. I recommend them both. 

[complcatedfreak]

we’re soulmates.

in which y/n and peter's class go to MOMA and they discover a big secret.

part one part two

A/N: this is a soulmate au series, which will contain both endgame and infinity war spoilers. however, this part is when they begin. Parts after this will ignore the canon.

Mj: ice cream date tonight??

Ned: I’ll ask but I don’t think it’ll be a problem

Peter: what time? it depends bc of the stark internship

Y/N: i can go :)

 Peter’s smile faltered a bit when Y/N said she could go. Something inside of Peter just wanted to be around her. For the first time since he’d discovered his powers, he considered taking a day off. It was only for a brief moment before he remembered the entire city of New York is probably more important than getting ice cream with a girl he met two days ago. Just probably. Plus, he still got to see her in school and would be able to text all weekend without it being weird, you know, because of the whole groupchat thing. Peter had come to really enjoy texting Y/N. She was funny and always had an appropriate meme for whatever they were discussing. She fit right in with himself, Ned and Mj. It was nice to have her around.

Y/N was happy when Mj sent the ice cream date text to the entire groupchat, rather than the individual message Y/N had woken up to. It was originally supposed to be a ‘get to know you’ hangout session so that the girls of the group could bond, but both ladies quickly agreed it would be more fun if everyone was there. It’d be a nice way for all four of them to relax into a dynamic that worked outside of school. Plus, it would allow for Y/N to get comfortable enough for her to ask to join their group for the class field trip to MOMA that was coming up in a next week. It had only been about a week since she met them, but there was something interesting about each one of them, and it only made Y/N want to continue being around them.

The school day was about as easy as it gets for Peter. It being a Friday meant the teachers wanted to relax just as much as the students did. Maybe even more, considering it was a long weekend. Most of his day was spent trying to catch up on the novel they were reading in English and trying to keep up with the mass flood of text messages from the groupchat. Peter kept thinking about how well Y/N seemed to easily filter into their little nerd group. He was happy to have her there, but something seemed off. A pretty girl like her who’s also funny would never usually pick the three least cool kids in school to hang out with, but here she was. He was grateful she chose them. “What’cha thinking about?” Mj cheerfully interrupted his thought process, while also pulling his eyes away from the pages of the book he was supposed to be reading. “I don’t know how to explain it,” Peter answered, shocking himself. He has never been this open with Mj. “Well, Parker, I’ll listen to whatever first-world problem you have going on for a little bit,” Mj said with a fake smile plastered on her face. Honestly, Peter wanted to tell someone about it, even if it was Mj’s ridiculously sarcastic self. “Mj,” Peter started, wondering how to approach this subject, “my initials match someone’s name, they even had a line through them.” Mj’s face lit up, “PETER WHAT?” She exclaimed, drawing the eyes of everyone in his last period class. “Shut up!” Peter shushed, “It’s not a definite thing, I don’t know her middle name, but the first and last names work out and I’m scared because I kinda like her already, but I’m scared.” Peter was talking way too fast, but it seemed as though Mj understood. “Is it Y/N?” she whispered. Peter’s face immediately went red, “n-no,” Mj smirked as the bell rang, “Whatever, Parker.” “This is the last time I’m telling you anything!” Peter called as she disappeared out of the classroom door.

MJ: y/n you’re joining our MOMA group right

Y/N: is that okay? i don’t wanna intrude

MJ: i mean ur name is already on the sign-up list with is

MJ: *us

Ned: I did that :)

MJ: oh okay im excited for you to join

Why wasn’t Peter answering? After waiting for two hours after MJ’s last text, Y/N began to get insecure about joining the group because she didn’t have his approval. What if he didn’t want her around? What if he didn’t like her? Suddenly feeling very small, Y/n tossed her phone to the other side of her bed, deciding to catch up on her reading for English. She had been lost for the rest of the last unit with the whole transferring schools thing, so she didn’t want to fall behind this time. A few hours passed and she hopped between reading her novel and digging through food in the fridge. She knew she was eating out of nerves and boredom, but hey, what’s a few calories when your potential soulmate may hate you?

Peter quietly closed his bedroom window and quickly pulled off his mask. He didn’t necessarily have to be secretive anymore but walking through the front door in his spidey suit wasn’t something he wanted to risk. Stripping out of the rest of the suit, he made his way to the bathroom. He pulled out his phone to connect to the speaker in the bathroom and noticed the missed texts from the “peter “i drop chemicals because i cant do math” parker” groupchat. Y/N’s joining their MOMA group. Y/N’s joining their MOMA group! Y/N’S JOINING THEIR MOMA GROUP! He fist bumped the air, instantly feeling ten times more excited for the field trip next week. Maybe this would be his chance to find out if her middle name started with the second letter on his wrist. Peter hopes it does. Truthfully, Peter really hopes Y/N is his soulmate. He really likes her.

The weekend flew by for Y/N. Peter finally answered in the groupchat and was equally as excited that she was joining as everyone else. Besides that, it was full of homework and studying. The group did meet up for ice cream on Monday, since they were off, but Peter had to leave early, due to an internship he had with Tony Stark. Y/N liked that he was dedicated to things, as well as the fact that he was intelligent enough to be working for THE Tony Stark. Y/N has decided she really, really likes him. He’s funny, cute and smart? How could she not? He’s also really kind, which Y/N learned while they were out getting ice cream and she dropped hers. Peter instantly offered her his, as well as offered to pay for a new for her. Y/N was too shy to ever let either of those things happen, so she bought herself a new one, but even just the small gesture had her heart fluttering. So, once they got back in school on Tuesday, Y/N felt very comfortable with Peter. They hung out during homeroom, walked to classes together, and hung out at lunch. Y/N thinks Peter even tried to hold her hand because she felt his hand brush hers when they were standing together in the lunch line. She wasn’t sure, though.

To say Peter was distracted when he went out as Spider-Man after school would be an understatement. Of course, he still did his job and did it right, he just did it while recalling every moment he spent with Y/N. He knew it was becoming redundant, but he couldn’t help but to give Happy the run-down about his new updates with his potential soulmate. Happy was annoyed, but Peter thought he detected a small hint of fondness behind his tone. When he got home, Peter had the best sleep of his life. The next morning, he got up, got dressed and ran to Del-Mar’s to make sure he had something to eat on the trip. Then, he made his way to the school to check-in and find his group.

“PARKERRRR,” Ned yelled down the hallway, making both Y/N and Mj jump. Mj turned towards Peter, waved and then flipped him off. Y/N laughed, shooting him a little wave with a smile. “Aren’t you two gonna get hot?” Mj asked, gesturing to Peter’s jacket and the flannel Y/N had thrown over her shirt. “No!” Peter said very defensively. “It makes my outfit cuter,” Y/N pouted. Ned laughed, rolling his eyes at his friends.

Soon, they were all sat in their seats on the bus. Y/N and Mj were across the aisle from Peter and Ned, due to the ‘boys can’t sit with girls’ the bus-driver had instilled. Y/N happily shared her headphones with Mj, showing her new songs as her head rested against the bus window. It was a very short, comfortable bus ride and before they knew it, they were inside of New York’s Museum of Modern Art. Each group broke off, allowing the teenagers to see what they wanted to. Mj and Ned were very adamant about Elle Pérez’s Diablo exhibit, so the group headed there first. Due to their enthusiasm, Ned and Mj strayed ahead of Y/N and Peter, giving them a chance to chat. It was mindless chatter; pointing out pieces they liked along the way, pointing at some creature in the works and saying “it’s you” to each other, things like that. Nothing important.

Until they got to their final exhibit. Peter mindlessly rolled up his sleeve. Mj was right, he was getting hot, and he was too comfortable to remember he was supposed to be hiding his wrist. It was fine for about five minutes, before Y/N let out a gasp. Mj, Ned and Peter turned around to face her. Peter cocked his head, “Are you okay?” Y/N answered quickly: “Can I talk to you?”. Before Peter could even answer she was grabbing the wrist that had her initials across them and dragging him away from their friends, leaving Ned and Mj with confused stares.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked once Y/N freed him from her grip. “Peter,” Y/N’s eyes were wide, as if she was putting on a puppy-face, “my initials are on your wrist. I think yours are on mine.” She tugged the sleeve of her flannel up, showing Peter the crossed-off “PBP” that went across it. Peter broke out into a huge smile, reaching up to run his fingers across the letters. He stared at her wrist for a second before looking her in her eyes, “We’re soulmates.” Y/N nodded at his statement, pulling him in for a hug.

It was time for the ride home. Peter let go of Y/N’s hand for the first time since they had their revelation when it was time to get on the bus. They texted through most of the ride, until Y/N’s phone died. Peter sat and played games on his for a while.

Peter felt the hairs on his arm stand up (the one with Y/N’s initials on it), and immediately looked away from his phone. His eyes landed on the spiral ship behind the bus. He was immediately grateful that he brought his suit, scanning over the bus full of his classmates. His eyes lingered on his soulmate, who met his gaze. She flashed him a smile of reassurance before turning to look back out of the window. Peter tapped Ned, “I need you to cause a distraction.” Ned was panicked before his eyes landed on the ship, “oh shit. WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” Everyone on the bus began to panic, causing the chaos Peter needed to escape. He waited until Y/N had moved from the seat across the aisle to join the crowd in the back of the bus to web out of it, prepared to help the city, and the avengers, with whatever it needed.

[yamayamawrites]

Wishing You the Best - TodoDeku

Hi friends! As a birthday present from myself to you, I’m coming back from my month-long break to give you....a TodoDeku pen pals AU! I’ve been very busy writing this past month and trying to start and finish fics before posting them (I say, as I post the first chapter of an unfinished fic). This one is kind of different from my normal stuff because it’s shorter - each chapter is only 1-2k words long. I have something else in my drafts that should be coming out shortly that I’m really proud of (100k+) so please be aware that’s coming, too!

Anyways, this one is a university AU in which Midoriya and Todoroki (and the rest of class 1-A) are university students! It has a little hint of coffee shop AU vibes, but for the most part it’s just a university AU. Hope you enjoy this first chapter!!

Week 01

Izuku’s never been a fan of English classes. He’s not bad at speaking the language; in fact, he’s quite good at it. The problem is that it’s not nearly as intriguing as some of the other courses he’s taken. He’s more interested in science and math classes, in solving complex problems and studying the way the world around him works.

Which is why he’s so nervous about these three words written in sloppy English on the board in front of him.

‘PEN PAL PROJECT’

He drops into his seat with a huff next to Ochaco, who has already arranged her notebook and colored pens in preparation for note-taking. Izuku has English and Chemistry with her, and they sit together for both; naturally, at the end of the day they trade notebooks – Izuku takes her English notes and she his Chemistry notes – and they review and fill in holes where they missed them. It’s an effective system, and Izuku especially likes looking at Ochaco’s neat handwriting.

Ochaco tosses a friendly smile over her shoulder at him and he returns it, wide and a little winded from sprinting the campus to get here. It’s a nine in the morning class, and his alarm clock has a habit of not going off in the morning. Izuku sometimes gets the suspicion that Kacchan, his roommate, has some part in that. “Morning, Deku!” Ochaco chirps, then returns her attention to writing today’s date at the top of her notebook page. She’s deciding on a color scheme for her notes.

“Morning!” Izuku replies, bright and chipper. “You should go with blue and red today.”

“You always say that,” Ochaco laughs, but still she settles on her blue and red pens. “What do you think this is all about?” she nods vaguely at the board, and all Izuku can do is shrug and open his mouth to reply before their professor is proudly proclaiming his entrance into the classroom.

“Good morning!” Professor Yamada is shouting, and he really doesn’t need to yell because the classroom is relatively small but he does anyway. Some of the less awake students wince at his voice, but Izuku’s come to expect it, having been briefed by a few friends who have had Professor Yamada in the past. “Welcome to English one-oh-six!”

He’s speaking English right now, and Izuku’s taken enough English courses in middle school and high school to know most of what he’s saying, but it does take him a moment to piece the number together. He uses context clues to assume Professor Yamada is talking about the class number and he nods his head once, glad to make a connection like this so early in the morning and without any caffeine. (It’s not something he should be as impressed about as he is.)

Yamada switches gears and begins going through the plans of the day in Japanese. “Let’s talk about the Pen Pal Project,” he claps his hands together as he finishes going over basic syllabus information. “For the next semester, you will be exchanging weekly letters with a pen pal in English. It’s much easier to learn a language when you write in said language and communicate with others in that language. I’ve assigned each of you a pen pal from the other sections of English one-oh-six, and you’ll be expected to write them a note each week for class.”

The class around Izuku is convoluted. Some are whispering about how they think this is a childish lesson, others are excitedly chattering with their friends at the possibility of getting to write letters back and forth with another friend from a different section of this course. Ochaco leans over to Izuku, and she appears to be part of the latter group of students. “Isn’t this exciting?!” she whisper-shouts. “Maybe I’ll get to write letters to Tsuyu!”

Izuku hums, taps his pencil on the desk. He doesn’t know many people at this university yet – he really only knows Ochaco, Kacchan, and the acquaintances he works with at the on-campus café. “I think it might be fun,” he decides finally. He’s always been a friendly and outgoing person, and while his English isn’t perfect, he doubts the person he gets paired up with will judge him for it. In all, it seems like a creative way to teach a class, and it really does seem like a nice change of pace.

***

“He’s still doing that stupid pen pal thing, huh?”

Kacchan is leaning against the counter of their kitchenette while Izuku works on drafting his pen pal note at the island counter. “Mm,” Izuku hums his affirmation.

“I had him last semester,” Kacchan grunts, turns back to the microwave where he’s waiting on his ramen. “Thought that assignment was kinda fuckin’ stupid.”

“Who was your pen pal?” Izuku asks, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. He’s drafted his first letter three times now, trying to make sure it has as little errors as possible while also trying not to have scribble marks and pencil erasings.

“Some guy named Hitoshi,” Kacchan shrugs. “He wasn’t all that good at English. I could barely understand what the hell he was trying to say half the time.” He peers over the counter, eyeing Izuku’s paper. “You used the wrong tense there,” he points after a moment, and Izuku groans and throws his head down.

“Why don’t you write it for me?” Izuku whines, turns his cheek so it presses against the counter and he can stare up at Kacchan with big puppy dog eyes. Kacchan just grumbles under his breath and turns away, irritation in his voice even when his words are unintelligible.

“I’m not doing that stupid ass project again,” Kacchan gripes. “Who’s your pen pal or whatever, anyway?”

Izuku blinks to try and focus his eyes on the paper that is much too close to his face to be able to read. Finally he sits up and rubs his eyes, glares down at the name he’s written at the top of the paper. “Todoroki Shouto,” he says.

“Oh, that guy?” Kacchan keeps his eyes on the microwave as it ticks down. “Should be fuckin’ delightful to talk to,” he teases.

“What’s wrong with Todoroki?” Izuku asks, means not to sound defensive but he always seems to get this way when Kacchan acts abrasive.

“I had him in my Japanese lit class last semester,” he explains with a wave of the hand. “He’s just like, the exact opposite of your type.”

Izuku’s ears redden at the tips. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” he says quickly, his voice jumping up a few pitches. “It’s a school assignment! Why would you think—”

“Deku,” Kacchan interrupts, stern and a little intimidating. “It’s been months. You’re getting irritable.”

“Am not!” Izuku shoots back, then covers his mouth. Kacchan just smirks, knowingly, as if those two words have proven him right, because they kind of have.

“Whatever you say,” Kacchan grunts, opens the microwave just before it beeps and takes out his bowl of ramen noodles. He grabs a set of chopsticks from the drawer and migrates to the couch in their tiny living space. The television drowns out whatever Kacchan’s grumbling under his breath, and Izuku doesn’t quite care to ask him to repeat himself because honestly, he’s a little scared of the answer he’ll receive. So he returns his attention back to the page in front of him.

It’s a simple note. Professor Yamada has given everyone a topic for their first letter, ordering the class to talk about what they’re going to school for and what classes they’re taking this semester. He’s told everyone it needs to be around fifty words long to get full credit, and that they’re not being graded on English accuracy so much as on participation. Izuku knows he doesn’t have to put as much thought and effort into it as he is right now, but he can’t help himself; he wants to sound smart. That’s his downfall, is that he doesn’t want his first impression to be terrible.

Dear Todoroki Shouto,

Hi! My name is Midoriya Izuku. I am just turned twenty and this is my third year attending Yuuei University. I study natural science, chemistry, and modern history also with English. I major in Engineering, but I do know not what I want to do with that degree. I live on campus and have one roommate. It is nice to meet you!

Wishing you the best,

Midoriya Izuku

By the time he’s finally settled on his letter, it’s nearing ten at night. He knows he’s taken a lot more time on this than probably anyone else has, but that’s just his personality – he never puts less than a hundred percent into anything. “Kacchan,” he calls through the dorm; he heard Kacchan get out of the shower twenty minutes or so ago now and he really needs someone who’s better at English to revise for him.

“Fuck off, trying to sleep,” Kacchan calls back, his voice muffled through his bedroom door. Izuku sighs, wonders if Ochaco is still awake.

She must be, considering when he grabs for his cell phone that he’d put on silent just before he began working he sees sixteen new text messages, the most recent of which being from eight minutes ago. He exhales and decides that, rather than responding to all sixteen messages, it might be easier to just call her, so he scrolls through his contacts and hits the button to video call.

She picks up after two rings. “Deku!” she cries, but she doesn’t really sound angry, which is unusual when Izuku’s missed so many of her messages. “You got paired up with Todoroki Shouto?!”

“Ah, yeah?” Izuku’s beginning to wonder if he’s the only one who has no idea who this guy is. “So what?”

“So what?!” Ochaco repeats, her voice shrill with the question. “So, he’s like one of the hottest guys on campus!”

Izuku flushes. “I don’t really see how that—”

“You totally need to get with him! You’re getting irritable, Deku!”

Izuku feels his ears reddening again. Is it really that obvious? he thinks hopelessly. “I’m not,” he replies, tries not to sound as irritable this time when he says it.

“Are too,” Ochaco sing-songs.

“I don’t even know what he looks like,” Izuku whines finally, throws his head down on the note. “Who did you get paired up with?”

“Iida Tenya,” she says after a moment. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” Izuku sits up again. “I work with him. We usually have the same shift at the café.”

“Oh! The tall guy with the glasses?”

Izuku nods, grateful that his topic change has been so successful. Ochaco seems to notice what he’s done a moment later though, because she’s scolding him in mumbles and all Izuku can catch is “you can’t fool me, Deku”.

“Can you help me review my note?” Izuku asks, remembering now his main reasoning for calling in the first place.

Ochaco sighs and rubs her temple in a gesture that’s meant to be teasing but feels almost genuine. “Sure, sure,” she says with a fatigued smile. “But only if you’ll help me with Chemistry.”

[harry-leroy]

Fir, olive, and laurel please. 🌳

Thank you so much for the ask! I really appreciate it:) 

FIR: Which tropes/archetypes do you find the most and the least compelling?

Already answered! 

OLIVE: Do you enjoy poetry? if so, what kind?

Poetry is actually my least favorite thing about being an English major. Every time I try to read a poem, it takes me nine million years to understand just what on earth is going on and I need someone to walk me through it line by line. It’s frustrating, and definitely something that I have to work on. Thing is, I’m totally fine reading an early modern/ Shakespearean drama where the rest of my class is struggling, but reading a fourteen line poem? - nope, I get so lost. It’s probably one of the reasons why I didn’t score very high on my Lit/Lang AP tests because half of the tests asks you to analyze short poems. *heavy sigh....* oh well... 

LAUREL: How would you describe your music taste?

A little all over the place, if I’m real. I love classical music and opera, but I also love alternative and some folk, and sometimes lofi music. If the vibes are there, I’m here for it. Here’s my spotify page if you want a little better glimpse of it though! 

[goldenuwuswriting]

Siren’s Song

A/N: Just in case you haven’t heard this man’s heavenly vocals: A video or two! Also credit to @ncttrinities for feeding into my zero self-control and helping plan this. I might be slightly wh*pped for him.

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

AU: Siren! and College!

Summary: Sirens don’t exist or do they? 

“Sirens were originally Persephone’s three handmaidens. When Hades kidnapped Persephone to be his wife, Demeter gave the handmaidens beautiful golden wings so they could search the earth. They eventually gave up, making Demeter mad and causing her to curse them to an island.” Professor Nakamoto lectures alongside the powerpoint made by his TA, Johnny. You took this Greek Mythology 101 class for the easy A or so you thought. Professor Nakamoto grades based on how much effort you put into the assignment and how much you participate in class. 

“Time’s almost up for today, so your assignment for this week is to write your own siren myth.” The professor always had assignments like that. You thought that he set the class up like that to see how much the students retained from his lectures, but little did you know that he was hiding a big secret.

Professor Yuta Nakamoto was a siren and trying to teach that sirens don’t exist. The curse was just that in his opinion. The man literally looks like a god and could have been an Idol but had decided to teach to protect his secret. Johnny, his TA, came from America and was just as handsome as Yuta. Johnny was older than Yuta, but messed around and never graduated college and was the only one in the history department who knew Yuta’s secret. 

You, on the other hand, were halfway through a Master’s degree in History. You were trying to take all of the credit hours you could, just to graduate early and start your life. Midterms were a few months away, so you had to make at least an  A on them to give you a little wiggle room for the finals.

Johnny, being the greatest TA bless him (bless me achoo), hosts a study group and has office hours in Professor Nakamoto’s office before and after class almost every time. 

You had a question over the study guide that Johnny had handed out, so naturally you went to office hours to ask before heading to your next class. There was something magical about the voice you heard coming from Yuta’s office. It was so pretty and drew you in. Your feet kept moving towards the door, as if they weren’t controlled by your brain. You reached out for the door handle and turned it. Something compelled you to keep walking into the office, where Professor Nakamoto was sitting in his chair and singing under his breath. 

Yuta was shocked. You weren’t supposed to hear his ‘true’ voice. He quickly cleared his throat and asked you what you needed. You were frozen for a minute, as all of the gears in your brain started to move again, you remembered why you were there. 

“I have a question on the study guide that Johnny made. Do you know where he is?” 

“I don’t know where he is, but I could probably help you since I am the professor.” 

You wanted to laugh at yourself for being such an idiot. “The question asks for the differences between harpies and sirens. Is it for the modern idea of sirens or the original idea of them?” 

Yuta looked at you confused, shouldn’t you be questioning him on the fact that he is a siren (the answer is yes but you are too tired to realize it).  He looked at you for a moment before answering, giving you his perfect, healing smile. “Its for the modern idea of sirens, Y/N. You’re the only student who caught that.” 

“Alright, thank you and see you in class.” You took off towards your next class, mind still piecing everything together. Professor Nakamoto can’t be a siren because they don’t exist, right? Your next class went on for what seemed like hours. 

Yuta was freaking out. He called Johnny, hoping the sentient tree would answer the phone. 

“Hello?” Johnny’s disembodied voice flowed through the phone.

“I, uh, may have done something stupid and exposed myself.” 

“Nakamoto Yuta, What did you do?”

“I may or may not have been singing under my breath and Y/N got captivated with my ‘true’ voice.”

Johnny sighed and Yuta could picture the taller man rolling his eyes.

“You want me to convince them that their mind is playing tricks on them, don’t you?”

Yuta just hummed in response. 

Johnny hung up on him, not before telling him that he should be more careful. 

You were finally dismissed from class. Johnny had texted you and asked if you want to meet up at a café near campus. It was about a 15 minute walk from the building you were at. The only thing in your head was the sound of Yuta’s voice. The voice that mesmerized you, the one that belonged to a forbidden object, and the one you couldn’t have. The more you thought about your professor’s voice, the more it dawned on you that he might be a siren. You walked towards the café, pulling your jacket closer to your body, trying to get as warm as possible while walking into the wind. The fall weather was your favorite, but it still had its downsides. You pushed the door open and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of fresh roasted coffee beans and fresh baked goods. 

Johnny waved you over to the table he was sitting at. Your TA had two cups of coffee in front of him of which he handed you one. You gladly accepted the bean juice and took a sip. The two of you exchanged greetings and talked about random topics. 

“Johnny, how much do you know about Professor Nakamoto?” 

“He’s like my best friend, why?” Johnny was concerned about what you were going to say and it showed.

“I want an honest answer. Is he a siren?” You whispered those sentences. Perhaps you were going crazy with all the credit hours you were taking and the disturbing amount of sleep you were losing due to it. Everything about the professor seemed to match the exact creatures he was teaching about, obviously there were small differences. 

Loud Laughter broke you from your thoughts. “You honestly can’t believe that, Y/N. Sirens don’t exist and he is not one. I think you need to take a break from your course work or take a long nap.” 

“I guess so, but no one should have a voice that pretty.” 

Johnny helped you with a few questions on your study guide before it was time for him to go help Yuta get set up for the Introduction to ancient civilizations class. You decided to head to your dorm and sleep as Johnny suggested. 

The nap was just what you needed. Your roommate woke you up and asked if you had notes from your english class that they could borrow. Your phone’s screen lit up displaying the current time and a message from your best friend, Kun. Kun is the mom friend. He brings you food and takes care of you, so it’s no surprise when he texted you asking where you were and why you weren’t in class today. 

Johnny had met up with Yuta and practically clowned him for letting you catch on. 

“I didn’t know that they was there.” 

“Well, It would take a genius to figure out that students are going to stop in during office hours.”

“If you’re so smart, Johnny, then why aren’t you a professor?” Yuta was becoming dramatic. He picked this habit up from a few of the freshman students. The students called themselves the dream team. 

You weren’t prepared for class on Monday, knowing that you had to take the chapter test. Johnny had warned you that the professor had a project planned but he was picking the partners. You asked him to put in a good word for you, so that you would hopefully get paired with Dong Sicheng, who goes by WinWin and happens to be the professor’s favorite. WinWin was a cutie and very babie so you understood why he was the favorite. A plus to working with WinWin is that he was friends with Kun as well, so study snacks would be made for you both. 

The test was easy, probably because Johnny had explained everything to you when he asked you to get coffee. Yuta had waited for everyone to turn in the test before explaining the project, which was to come up with and market a product as business entrepreneurs (Johnny’s idea after writing an essay at 3 am and drinking red bull).  He started to call each pair.

“Dong Sicheng and Mark Lee.” There goes your chance at a decent grade, Mark was the only other student who wasn’t a freshman and had a great work ethic.  “Y/L/N Y/N and Huang Renjun.” You have heard that Renjun was a responsible boy who loved art from Kun constantly talking about him and Sicheng. Kun also said that Renjun and his three other friends referred to themselves as the dream team and they did everything together. 

The said boy came up to you and introduced himself and gave you his number. When class ended, you marched up to Johnny.

“I thought I asked you to make sure I was partnered with Sicheng.”

“I tried. Professor said no multiple times.” Johnny was trying not to smile at the memory of teasing Yuta. 

“What would he say if I ask him? I really don’t want to work with a member of the self-proclaimed ‘dream team’.” 

“He would most likely say no and to get over it, but you can try. He’s in his office.”

Johnny was sending you to war with a dangerous (read: Soft) enemy. Johnny immediately texted Yuta a heads up after you stormed out of the classroom. Yuta had anticipated someone was going to be upset at the partner choices, he just didn’t think that it was going to be you. 

You furiously rapped on the door to Yuta’s office and waited for him to tell you to enter.

“Y/N, what can I do for you?” The male had asked in a sing- song tone. The cadence of his voice quickly quelled your anger. 

“I wanted to know if I could switch Renjun for either Mark or Sicheng.” You smiled at him, silently praying to whatever gods or goddesses existed that he says yes. 

“I’m sorry, but partner pairings are final unless one partner is doing more work than the other.” 

You exited the office in a slightly better mood than before,  which Johnny noticed when he passed you in the hall. 

“Yuta, was Y/N just here?” 

He nodded.

“They were furious after you assigned partners and then is suddenly in a better mood after talking to you. What happened?”

“We had a great conversation, that’s all.” 

Johnny shot him a look that conveyed his thoughts. Yuta was slightly annoyed that the elder could read him that well. 

“I just charmed them a little. Y/N might be short but They’re kind of scary.”  

“I know, but we’ve had this discussion. What happens when they figure out that you are in fact a siren. Y/n already asked me if you were.”

Yuta knew that Johnny was right. He should probably stop while he was ahead. You were too pretty to die and he really didn’t want to move again. 

You messaged Renjun and asked him to meet you at Kun’s after okaying it with him. Kun was already working on snacks for the three of you. Three hours later and Renjun never showed up, Kun tried calling him but the boy never answered and Kun knew the boy didn’t have class until tomorrow. You already texted Johnny and told him what happened and that Renjun hasn’t shown up. You made sure to ask where the professor was, hoping that this would get you a new partner. Your favorite and only teaching assistant informed you that the was hour left in Yuta’s office hours. The walk from Kun’s dorm to the office to you about thirty minutes compared to the usual hour. The anger boiling in your system at the freshman kept you warm and was what caused you to practically slam the office door open. 

The Japanese man had heard angry footsteps coming down the hall, so he started to sing in order to calm the anger. It worked after a while and you could feel the anger melt away as waves of relief washed over you. The song continued and something about it compelled you to start walking towards your professor. You closed the distance between your lips and Yuta’s. The kisses were filled with passion and need. 

“Get a room!”  

That phrase startled you. Yuta grabbed your waist, not ready to let you leave, and looked at the source of the interruption. Johnny was standing at the door, rolling his eyes. You didn’t even notice the glare that Yuta shot him.

“Get Out, Johnny. Office hours are over.”  (WiNk WoNk)